Page 50 of Caretaker

I sighed. “I’ll be there in five minutes.”

“Perfect!” She hung up.

I wished the necromancer hadn’t been so…nice. She was interesting, strong, funny, and intelligent. She was sweet and compassionate, and she’d have done nearly anything to protect me and her supernatural friends.

But she was also all twisted up inside, full of wickedness and insanity and darkness. She was quite the sadist. And unfortunately, the object of her torment was Clayton. He was her slave, and she hated him above all things.

I had no idea how to free him. If I wasn’t careful, he would suffer for my attempts. But there was a demon inside him—an incubus—and that demon held the key to his freedom. The incubus—Seth Damon—was biding his time. But for what? If I thought about it for too long, it began to terrify me. Part of me believed that in the end, the demon was going to free Clayton by killing him.

“Shit,” I whispered, and squeezed the steering wheel. I did not want to lose Clayton.

By the time I reached the Bay Town Business Park, my stomach was gurgling with stress and my head ached from worrying—not just about Clayton but about the looming trip to the island.

There was excitement there too—Angus might be coming home. Angus would be coming home. And I kept that thought grimly at the front of my mind. I was going to bring Angus home.

I glanced longingly at Stark’s Pizza, which sat quiet and empty in the early part of the day, then headed a few doors down to Miriam Crow’s office.

Clayton opened the door before I reached it, then turned and walked away. Miriam sat behind her desk, tapping at her computer, and Clayton went to stand against the wall behind her.

Miriam looked up. “Sit, sweetheart. Would you like some coffee? Some cake?”

I shook my head. “I’m too anxious to add caffeine to the mix.” I sat in the chair before her desk, then reached up to rub my temples.

“Clayton, get her something to help.”

I dropped my hands into my lap and watched him as he walked from the room and into the hallway, his stride sure and his back straight. I remembered his face when he’d had his release. Images of his cock in Rhys’s hand—and my hand—stole my breath. His groan, so heavy with sex, played like echoing music through my mind.

He didn’t look like he was in pain, but if he’d gone back to Miriam’s with the slightest hint of joy or relief, she would have known. And likely she’d have rectified the situation.

She was watching me when I looked away from Clayton’s retreating body. “Clayton told me about your encounter with the Prince of Darkness. I swear, I miss all the fun.”

“Prince of Darkness? You think Himself is Satan?”

She laughed lightly. “Not really. I just think that title suits him.” She left her desk and came to sit beside me. “Trinity, I wish you hadn’t wanted the house. You’ll be changed if you live there.”

“What do you mean?” I didn’t pull away when she reached over to take my hand. Miriam was a touchy-feely sort, and I’d grown used to it.

“I don’t want you to become the Princess of Darkness, I suppose. You’re full of light and beauty and goodness. I just don’t want to see you change.” Then she smiled, but it was a sad smile. “You’re already changing. Already becoming…bad.”

I squeezed her fingers. “I’m not going to become bad. You’re just projecting.”

She waved her free hand, frowning. “Psychobabble.” She hesitated, then looked down at our entwined fingers. “My father was a psychiatrist.”

I leaned forward. “How is that possible? Wasn’t he a supernatural?”

“Oh. No, I was adopted when I was small. He was fascinated by me. You see…”

“Go on,” I urged, when she hesitated. I was fascinated by her.

The battle to talk about her life was there in her eyes. She wanted to, she didn’t want to. Finally, the part of her that needed to confide in another person won out. “When I was four years old I resurrected my dead cat. I was weak, at that young age, and I didn’t do a very good job of it.”

Clayton slipped back into the room and she stopped talking long enough to give him a nod. He handed me two small tablets and a bottle of water, but he didn’t meet my stare.

I didn’t ask what the tablets were. He wouldn’t give me anything to hurt me, and my head was throbbing. I took the pills as Miriam continued with her story.

“After I brought the cat back to life, my minders saw the potential in using me to make some money. You have to understand, it was a different time then. You think things are bad now?” She shook her head. “They’re better than they were. For us, I mean. Back then, we had absolutely no one. At least now…”

I wondered once again how old she really was, but I wasn’t going to ask her.