spotted us together and started mocking her for taking care of a mortal. When we tried to simply walk away from him, he used his powers on me.”
“He was an incubus?” Ruse asked softly, but his eyes flashed with a golden blaze of anger.
“I don’t think so, but he had some kind of charm ability. He called out to me, told me to jump around and crawl on my hands and knees and would have ordered me to walk into traffic if Luna hadn’t launched herself at him then.”
A lump filled my throat with the memory. “It was awful, wanting to resist, terrified of what he was making me do, but being trapped in my body that was following his commands no matter how much I tried to stop it. I know that tormenting people isn’t your thing, but the thought of anyone using their influence on my mind brings back that terror.”
If I hadn’t been completely sure of Ruse’s remorse before, there would have been no mistaking it etched in his expression now. “I hate that I reminded you of that time—that you’d need to associate me at all with that dumpster fire of a being. If I can’t manage to keep the promise of never slipping up again, you’re welcome to light me on fire and cheer while I burn.”
My lips couldn’t help twitching upward at the vehemence with which he made that offer. “I think I can manage without burning anyone alive. Let’s just see how it goes. And don’t push your luck.”
“Duly noted,” the incubus said with a playful salute, though his eyes were still serious. I was just venturing onward to resume my search when a joyful voice rang out from the office kitchen. Of course Snap would have ended up in there sooner rather than later.
“I have something!” He loped out with his face beaming as bright as his curly hair. With one hand, he held up a mug that had a jagged shard missing from its side. “This cup belonged to Meriden. He brought it in from his house, and I can see the house in the impressions that’ve stuck to it.”
Excitement raced through me. I hurried over. “Are you sure it’s his?”
He tipped the mug to show us the base, looking so breathtakingly pleased with himself I had to restrain the urge to kiss him. “I can hear someone saying the name while he was holding it—and look. This is for John Meriden, isn’t it?”
Marked on the mug’s base in black sharpie were the initials J.M.
I laughed and settled for squeezing Snap’s shoulder in a fragment of an embrace. “You did it. He’d better watch out now—we’re coming for him where he lives.”
21
Sorsha
Helpfully, the residents of the apartment we’d borrowed had left the keys to their vehicle in a bowl near the door. When Ruse pressed the unlock button in the parking lot at the back of the building, a shiny silver SUV beeped.
We’d treat it well, I told myself as we walked over. We’d even leave them with a full tank of gas as a thank you present.
Then I opened the passenger side door, and my eyebrows shot up. “Oh, for the love of sweet potato fries.”
It’d looked like a perfectly normal SUV from the outside. The inside stunk of the ‘60s. Literally. A waft of musky, earthy patchouli washed over me. As I wrinkled my nose, I took in the bright pink mini shag rugs on the floor in front of each seat and the bejeweled peace sign glittering where it hung from the rear-view mirror.
Maybe walking would be better.
But no, given the house Snap had described from the impressions on Meriden’s mug, we were heading out to the posh suburbs at the north end of town, and that was a hell of a hike even for me. So I clambered into the back of the car with Snap while Ruse took the driver’s seat and Thorn stretched out his expansive legs next to the incubus.
I wasn’t going to let this assault of decades past go unchallenged, though. Tapping at my phone’s screen, I connected it to the SUV’s sound system and started Tina Turner’s Private Dancer album playing. Take that, flower children.
As the opening notes of “I Might Have Been Queen” spilled from the speakers, Ruse gave a knowing laugh. He backed the SUV out of its parking spot more smoothly than I’d have expected from a guy who’d probably only needed to use his driving skills about once