She’d been so young, grieving the loss of her parents and desperately needing comfort, but that wasn’t forthcoming. Nan had exuded such coldness, sometimes Nia wondered if that was why her father had taken his family and moved out of the mansion.
She’d had so many questions, but it made little difference. Nan had refused to answer and never would even if she were still alive?—
A ringing cell hauled her out of a painful past.
With a shaky inhale, Nia fished out the device from her jeans pocket, frowned at the strange number, then answered. “Yes?”
“Rania Deveraux?”
“Who’s asking?”
“This is Steve Landry, attorney for Cora Devereaux. You are a hard person to reach,” he said, his tone as frosty as the wintry air. A flood of heat swept through her at his accusatory tone.“Your grandmother passed yesterday. Her funeral is tomorrow at eleven, and the reading of the will takes place directly after the service at the mansion.”
Choking back the retort that her friends had reached her in Romania, she muttered a cool, “Thank you,” and ended the call.
“Nia?”
She shook her head, crossed to the kitchen, and dropped her phone on the counter. With a trembling hand, she got a glass of water and gulped it down, all the while aware Lore hovered opposite the counter separating the kitchen from the living room.
Not even the chilled liquid calmed her.
“Grief can be a lonely affair.” His gaze skimmed her tight features. “I’ve heard talking can help at times.”
Talk? And highlight her shortcomings? Yeah, no.
She’d never been the kind of granddaughter her grandmother wanted, one who didn’t see demons. God knew she’d tried for a long time to explain to Nan it didn’t mean something was wrong withher, but it had fallen on deaf ears. And had made dinners a trial.
Besides, she didn’t want to reveal the truth of her loneliness, living with her grandmother.
“I have to go to the clinic.”
“Why?”
Nia set the glass down. “I intern there. I have to check on the animals in my care. And no, we are not flashing to the clinic and freaking out the people there.”
She picked up her cell from the counter, swiped to the Uber app, and booked a ride. Two minutes until arrival.
“We need to leave.” She headed for the front door.
“Nia, wait.”
Her expression neutral, she faced him.
He strolled closer, the soft glow from the lamps turning his hair into a fiery halo. “You’re back in the French Quarter. What do you think will happen if you go out that door?”
“Oh, you mean Kas? Well, then you wouldn’t have to hunt him down, would you? We’re taking a cab.” She whirled away, opened the door, and walked out. “You can sit with the driver.”
A short while later, she scrambled out of the Uber.
Sit with the driver?
She should have known better than to tell him what to do. Hell, she should have selected an SUV.
After being packed tight like sardines with Lore squashed next to her, his thigh pressing against hers, his arm slung over the back seat, she was burning up. She didn’t know if her confounding, growing powers were the cause of this wretched problem or her ever-present awareness of Lore was responsible for her lust skyrocketing.
She should have just let him flash them. The torment of being so close would have lasted mere seconds.
Exhaling roughly, she skirted the crowds and hurried to the glass front door, where the neon pink sign with paw prints signaledPaws Vet Clinic.
