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Hazel shuddered thinking of the two ancient beasts who’d recently awoken from a millennia-long slumber and now answered to the Demon Lord’s call. “At least he makes sure they don’t prey on humans.”
“Because Maeve asked him to.” She raised one ginger brow. “I’m pretty sure he wouldn’t give a hellrat’s ass otherwise.”
“For what it’s worth,” Hazel said, leaning against the countertop, “it’s his devotion to Maeve and the way she turns him into a somewhat rational being that convinced me to switch allegiance to him. That,” she added with a shrug, “and the necessity to keep our access to additional magic while the Powers That Be are getting weaker. I’d rather ally myself with the devil I know and keep my full powers than stand helpless in front of new threats.”
“I wish the others could see the writing on the wall.” Merle massaged her closed eyes for a few seconds. “It’s not even like it’s hidden writing, you know. It’s all right there, in big, neon letters for anyone to read. Fallen gods like Arawn regaining their power. Ancient beasts waking up. The Powers That Be not even interfering because they’re already too weak to turn the tide.” She raised her hands and let them fall in her lap again. “What else do the others need in order to understand?”
Hazel had grown still, her mind caught on something Merle had said. Her thoughts whirled, clicking together like pieces of a puzzle until part of the larger image became visible.
“Are you okay?”
Hazel blinked, then focused on the witch in front of her. “I’m sorry. Let’s pick this back up another time. I’ve got to go check out something related to the murder case.”
Merle came to attention. “What is it?”
“If I’m right about this, it might help us figure out what the killer was trying to do.”
“Want me to come with?”
Hazel shook her head. “I’d rather not have Rhun snarling at me for years to come just because I let you tag along to a crime scene in the middle of the night while eight months pregnant.”
“Hey!” Merle narrowed her eyes. “I’m not an invalid.”
“I know that, you know that, and pretty much everyone else knows it, too, except your demon husband.” She shot her a smile. “Have mercy on that poor guy’s nerves and stay here. I’ve got this.”
Leaving a grumbling Merle behind, Hazel stopped by the Murray mansion to pick up supplies and headed toward the house with the murder scene. Like the night before, she parked her car a few blocks away and walked along the quiet streets and houses bathed in darkness. Only a few lights were still on, most of the people living here having gone to bed by now.
The eyes watching her, however, didn’t belong to any of the humans of the neighborhood. Hazel rolled her shoulders against the prickling in her neck, paused in her stride, and sighed.
“Don’t you have some other place to be?” she asked without raising her voice, knowing he’d hear her. “Like an Annoying Idiots Anonymous meeting or something?”
“Yeah, well, they kicked me out.” With a fluid move that spoke of the lithe strength of a predator at home in the darkness, Tallak peeled himself out of the shadows, his amber eyes glowing like coals.
Her breath caught at the sight of him—a reaction she hid with a scoff.
“They kept blathering on about making amends and such,” he said with a shrug and a grin that made wicked heat curl in her belly, “so here I am.”
CHAPTER 7
Hazel stared at Tallak for a good few seconds while the night quietly breathed around them. Today she wore her coat open, revealing tight black jeans and a red sweater that hugged her breasts in a way inspiring irrational jealousy in him.
“Oh,” she said and blinked. “Am I supposed to be impressed?”
“Not yet, but I can change that.”
She huffed and crossed her arms, which only made his illogical envy of her breast-hugging sweater worse, what with the way her move pushed them up and made the fabric strain over them. “Why are you here?”
Because I’m horny and desperate and unhealthily obsessed with you didn’t seem like the smartest answer, so he opted for a shrug and a casual “I was in the area.”
“Right.” The look she gave him could have cut steel. “Unlike some other folk, I’ve got things to do, so I’d suggest you mosey along.” Walking past him, she threw over her shoulder, “Away from me.”
Yep, he had his work cut out for him. Biting his tongue, he sauntered after her while he kept his senses open and alert for any stirring of power in the air. She didn’t have to tell him where she was going—it was quite obvious, given the location—and he knew better than to let his guard down when there was a risk of the killer coming back to the scene of the murder from last night.
Hazel glowered at him as she was about to make her way onto the property from the back. “Are you still following me?”
“I’m persistent that way. Consider me your shadow.”
“I usually don’t harbor violent impulses toward my shadow,” she said while easing through an opening in the fence, “but there’s a first time for everything.”
