hers. “I’m sorry about last night. That I didn’t tell you about taking the síúlacht. I wanted to go on that film set after work. And even more, I wanted to be with you. To do exactly what we ended up doing, which we couldn’t have done if I’d been dead asleep. So I don’t regret taking it, but I’m sorry I didn’t tell you. Okay?”
He thought of how she’d looked, naked, lying beneath him. He didn’t regret it, either. “Okay,” he said.
“And I was mad at you, too, for tracking me. Seriously mad. Only now, in the light of day, it doesn’t seem so important. But I have to keep investigating, just like you. I won’t go anywhere else alone. But I’m not sitting around waiting, either. You’re going to have to live with that.”
“When this is all over,” he said, taking her car keys from her, “we’ll talk about what we can and can’t live with. For now, okay. Stick close to Reggie, who’s big enough to discourage anyone who wants to harm you. Now stand back.” He pressed the alarm fob, unlocking the doors.
“What are you doing?” she asked.
“Starting this car. Move back, would you?” He got in.
“Oh, so in case there are any bombs in there I can watch you blow up?” she said. “Like hell I will.”
He could feel his temper fraying. “Will you for once just do something I ask without a fight?”
“When you ask something reasonable, yes,” she said. “But if you plan to blow yourself up in my cousin’s car, I’m going with you.”
Whether that indicated affection or sheer stubbornness, he had no idea. “And you’ll sacrifice your dog, as well?”
“Good point,” she said. She picked up a rock from the ground and threw it. Her form wasn’t bad, and it went sailing down the block, with Jonquil taking off after it at a run. “Go on, start the car,” she said, leaning against the driver’s door. “Quick.”
The Peugeot rumbled to life. It did not blow up. Declan stepped out and held the door open for her. “Go meet Reggie. And stay with him—or someone else you trust—until my meeting’s done. I don’t want you alone until I see you again. Call it autocratic, call it what you want, but that’s my condition. Promise me.”
Sailor snapped her fingers, beckoning Jonquil, who came running and bounded past her into the car. “I promise,” she said, and then surprised Declan with a quick kiss on the mouth.
He was calmer now. Part of it was the kiss. Mostly it was that he’d stuck another cell phone under the Peugeot’s front seat. Wherever this car went, he would know about it.
* * *
Sailor found Reggie on the terrace of the Mystic Café having a cappuccino and chatting up the waitress. He looked reassuringly normal, with his freckled face and baseball cap, and reassuringly muscled, should they run into trouble. Also reassuring was that she once again had the knife. After a quick word with the proprietor, Hugh Hammond, she brought Reggie a to-go cup. “Sorry to be pushy,” she said, “but we’re in a hurry.”
They decided to take Reggie’s Lexus, leaving both the Peugeot and Jonquil at the Mystic Café. Hugh Hammond was an old family friend and Canyon Keeper of the were, half the clientele were Others and everyone knew Jonquil. Hard to plant a car bomb in full view of a dozen latte drinkers. Jonquil established himself near the door, turned in circles a few times and prepared for a long afternoon of intensive napping.
Sailor filled in Reggie on what she and Declan had learned in the preceding twenty-four hours.
“You weren’t supposed to research any of that, you know,” Reggie said with a grin. “You went way outside your district. Shows an alarming degree of initiative. Good job.”
Her cell phone rang and she answered, after a glance at the screen, “Hello, Declan.”
“Hello, love. Where are you?”
There it was again, that word he said so easily, making her heart skip a beat. Stop it, she told herself. It doesn’t mean what you want it to mean.
“Reggie’s Lexus, en route to Alessande’s. Are you checking up on me?”
“That’s exactly what I’m doing.”
“Figured. Have you heard of an Elven woman named Catrienne Dumarais?”
“No. Hey, I have to go. I’ll check in again. Remember your promise.”
“I will.” She hung up and turned to Reggie. “I don’t suppose you’ve heard of Catrienne Dumarais?”
Reggie shook his head. “No. Should I have?”
“She’s a member of some renegade group called the Ancients,