I grinned as he tugged me closer. “Concentrating as ordered, sir.”
And I did.
“So,” he said, stopping his truck several doors up from Mrs. Wilson’s house. “Who were you talking to when you first woke up?”
He had good ears, because I hadn’t been talking that loud. “Rory.”
“And who’s Rory when he’s home?” He shifted in his seat to look at me, but his expression was nothing more than curious.
“Every phoenix is one of a pair. He’s mine.”
His eyebrows raised. “He’s your mate?”
“Not exactly.” I half shrugged. “He’s my lover, my friend, the other half of my soul, and the only man I can ever have children with. But we cannot, and do not, love each other. Not in the romantic sense.”
“Really? What the hell did your people do to earn that sort of curse?”
“That is a million-dollar question, I’m afraid.”
He shook his head. “Does that mean you’re unable to fall in love at all?”
“No. We can and do, but it’s part of the curse that our relationships end badly. I don’t think I’ve heard of one phoenix having a happy ending in all the centuries I’ve been alive. Certainly, I’ve never had one.”
“But just because you haven’t heard about it—or experienced it—doesn’t mean it can’t happen.”
“Well, no. And I certainly keep hoping every time I’m reborn that this will be the one time it’s different.” I shrugged. “But I know for sure it’s not this lifetime.”
He eyed me for a moment, then said, “Because of Sam.”
“Another one loved and lost, I’m afraid.”
“That sucks. Big-time.”
“Living forever always has a drawback. This curse is ours.”
“Vampires don’t seem to have many drawbacks.”
“They live on blood and they can’t ever walk in sunshine.” My voice was dry. “Those are pretty big drawbacks in my book.”
“Neither would worry me—especially if it meant more time chasing luscious ladies.” He paused, looking thoughtful. “So have you and Rory had any kids?”
“We’ve only had five, because we aren’t fertile every rebirth.” I shrugged. “I haven’t seen any of our children for a generation or so. Phoenix offspring don’t tend to linger near the family nest once they find their mate.”
“And how does that happen? I take it there’s a bit more involved than dating until you find the right one.”
I smiled. “We don’t date. At the age of sixteen, a ceremony is performed and our mates are revealed. From there on in, you’re bonded for life.”
He frowned. “What if you happen to hate your bonded partner?”
“That would totally suck, but it’s never happened. Fate’s not that cruel.”
“I wouldn’t bet on that.” He glanced at his watch and his frown deepened. “How long does it normally take to get your hair done?”
I blinked at the sudden change of topic. “Around two hours if she’s getting it dyed.” Not that I actually knew for sure, as I never got anything other than a cut. Phoenixes aged normally through each cycle, but I’d grown rather fond of the gray over the years. “Why?”
“Because she should have been back by now.”
“Maybe she went shopping or something afterward.”
“Maybe.” His frown deepened. “I’ve just got this itchy feeling something’s not right.”
“I didn’t think intuition was a Fae thing.” My gaze swept the street. There was a white car parked several doors up from Wilson’s place and a woman cutting roses in a garden farther along the street, but neither pricked any sensation of wrongness.
“Generally, it’s not.” He frowned at the house for several moments longer, then dug his phone out of his pocket and made a phone call.
“Your secret source has to be a copper,” I noted in amusement once he’d finished. “Very few other people would be able to get you the location of a car via its GPS that quickly.”
“Maybe.” His voice was noncommittal. “But apparently, her vehicle is sitting in the driveway of her home.”
I glanced at the empty driveway. “Someone’s removed the GPS system.”
“Which suggests the itchy feeling may have been spot-on.” A devilish light entered his eyes. “Shall we go investigate?”
“If you break and enter, Sam will throw you in jail.”
“Only if he catches us. Come on.”
I shook my head, but climbed out and waited while he fidgeted in the back of the truck for several minutes. The day was bright and warm, and I tugged off the light sweater I’d borrowed from Jackson, allowing the sunshine to caress my skin and continue the refuel of my inner fires—although soon I’d need more than just sunshine and the threads of energy I could steal from Jackson, and that meant getting back to Rory.
Jackson shoved several items into his pockets and then headed up the driveway. I followed, then watched from several steps away as he knocked on the door. It was loud, but had an oddly hollow sound, which, for some reason, had visions of death stirring.
I rubbed my arms lightly. I was no stranger to the variations of death, but that didn’t mean I ever welcomed its appearance.
Jackson stepped to one side and peered in through the window. “Not a lot to see—other than dust.”
“Given her husband just died, dusting would be the last thing on her mind.”
He gave me a wry look. “Remember we’re talking about a potential black widow here.”
“I know, but she’d at least want to stay in character until the inquest into her husband’s death was over.”
“True.”
He stepped back, gave the front of the house a once-over, then stepped off the veranda and moved around to the backyard. He peered in a few windows, then gripped the back door handle and hit the door hard with his left shoulder. The lock gave way with very little fuss.
“Remind me to get our locks replaced with stronger ones when I get home,” I said.
He gave me a somewhat absent grin. “There is no such thing as a Fae-proof lock.”
“Then I shall coat the door with silver or something.”
“Which would not stop me or anyone else from getting into your home if we were determined enough.” He took two cautious steps inside, then stopped abruptly and swore.
“What?” I said immediately.
“Blood.” He put a hand into a pocket and pulled out some rubber gloves, handing one pair to me. “Wipe the door handle with your sweater, will you?”
“How bad is the blood scent?” I tugged the sweater free from my waist and gave the handle a thorough wipe-down.
“Bad enough.” He hesitated and lowered his voice. “But there’s something else here, a scent I can’t quite put my finger on.”
“Something you’ve smelled before?”
“Or someone.”
Sparks flickered across my fingertips, bright but not dangerous. I wasn’t sure whether it was a result of the drug or my own lack of strength, but either way, it meant that if we were attacked, I’d be relying on my earthier skills rather than my elemental ones. I licked the trepidation from my lips and said, “Is that someone still here?”
“I don’t know. I can’t smell anything that suggests he is, but then, I didn’t last time, either.” He glanced over his shoulder and added, “Close the door behind you. We don’t want the neighbors seeing the open door and reporting it.”