He—whoever he was—had a point. Diana stood, slowly, and looked around. The shadows made it difficult to tell for certain, but she’d have been willing to bet actual cash money that she and Sam were alone in the store. “Where are you?”
“Up in the corner.”
The only thing she could see in the corner was the convex circle of a security mirror. Just as she was realizing the reflection seemed a little off, a familiar pair of blue-on-blue eyes appeared.“You’ve got to be kidding me. They’re using a magic mirror for security?”
“Ain’t life a bitch,” the mirror agreed. “Got pulled out of a well-deserved retirement—quiet hall, nice view out an oriel window—and got stuffed up here by Gaston the Wondertroll.”
“So there’s a real troll?”
“Large as life, and twice as ugly. Actually, larger than life if we’re reflecting accurately.”
“Great.”
“I wouldn’t worry about him, kid; he’s just the front man.” Faint blue frown lines. “Front troll. Those actually running this segue are keeping their heads tucked well down until it’s too late for your lot to stop it.”
Good thing she’d touched that bracelet, then. The energy discharged had been enough to crack the shielding and send the Summons. No touching, no Summons, no chance to stop the…“Wait a minute. Did you say,segue?”
“I did.”
“Okay. This is one of those times when I really wish I could swear.” She took three quick steps away from the mirror. Three quick steps back. “I should have known there was more to this than a cheesy gift shop selling…” A glance down. “…fake fairies on sticks.”
“Look again.”
Under the lacquer and the glitter…
“Eww.”
“Duck!”
“Where?” Diana didn’t even want to think about what these guys could do to a duck. A sudden circle of light hit the back wall of the store and she dropped to the ground. Oh.Duck.
The emporium’s door rattled as someone shook it, testing the lock.
Now who could that be? Two guesses and the first one doesn’t count. Flat against the carpet to keep the curve of her backpack behind cover, she tried not to think about the dark stain just off the end of her nose.
“Think you can get away with anything. Young bodies, supple, lissome.”
Adding that to lithe and limber, there seemed to be a thesaurus specifically for dirty old men.
“You can’t hide forever.” The circle of light swept across the store and disappeared. Through the glass came a muffledshunk kree, shunk kree as the security guard moved away.
Remembering the warning delivered by imaginary fingers, Diana hissed,“Sam, stay down,” a heartbeat before the light flashed back through the window. She counted a slow ten afterthat light disappeared before she stood.“Sam?”
He crawled out from behind a box of glow-in-the-dark Silly Putty and shook his fur back into place.“Don’t worry about me. I’m way faster than a geriatric rent-a-cop.”
“Good. So.” Arms folded, she stared up at the mirror. “Let’s cut to the chase before we’re interrupted again.”
“Fine with me, Keeper. Here’s the deaclass="underline" I give you what help I can; in return, you get me out of here when you shut this place down.”
“Agreed.”
“And you recognize that when the shit hits the fan, I’m breakable and more than just a little exposed.”
She nodded.“We’ll be careful.”
“We? That would be you and the cat?”
“Us, too.” Diana took one last look around the store and decided she really didn’t need to know just what exactly the weights on the wind chimes were made of. “I think we’re going to need a little help.”
TWO
[Êàðòèíêà: img_4]
DROPPING HIS SPRAY BOTTLE of window cleaner onto the old-fashioned wooden counter, Dean McIssac crossed the small office and caught the phone on the second ring.“Elysian Fields Guest House.” A small frown of concentration appeared as he flipped open the reservation book, a leather-bound tome with the phases of the moon prominently displayed by each date. “Yes, sir, we still have rooms available for next Wednesday. We can certainly accommodate you andyour mother. Sorry? Oh. Your mummy. No, that’s fine; many of our guests arrive after dark. We’ll hold the rooms until midnight. A dehumidifier? That can be arranged, I understand how mold and mildew could be a problem. No, unfortunately, I can’t guarantee the Keeper will be here, but I’m sure you’ll find our…” His cheeks flushed. “Thank you, sir. I’ll see you Wednesday.”
“Flushed is a good look on you.”
“Claire!” The receiver fell the last six inches into the cradle as Dean flag-jumped the counter and gathered the smiling Keeper into his arms.
“You made good time,” he murmured when they finally came up for air.
“I had a good reason.”
“One that I should know about?”
Dark brown eyes gleamed suggestively up at him.“Definitely.”
His fingers tightened on her shoulders and he began to pull her close again.
“Hel-lo! Crushing the cat here!”
Dean released his hold like he had springs in his fingers, and Claire leaped back, exposing the indignant, black-and-white cat cradled between them.“I’m sorry, Austin. I just got excited about being home.”
“Oh, yeah,” he muttered as she set him carefully on the counter. “It’s home that gets you excited. Tell us another one. No, wait…” He turned and glared at her from a single emerald eye. “…don’t.”
“Okay.” Her hands free, she slid them up the sculpted muscle of Dean’s torso and around the back of his neck, fingers entwined in thick hair. “I can’t resist a man in a pink T-shirt.”
He shifted his grip to her waist, thumbs working against the damp line of flesh between cropped tank and skirt.“Someone buried a red catnip square in the laundry basket.”
“That’s right. Blame the cat. The starving cat!” Austin snapped after a moment when it became quite clear he’d been forgotten again. “The old starving cat who just spent three hours in a car listening to sappy tales of dear, departed Muffy—who probably threw herself in front of that truck in an effort to escape the schmaltz with what was left of her dignity. The old starving cat who’s going to give you a count of three before he starts making pointed comments about your technique!”
“Austin, there’s a package of calf liver in the fridge.” Dean slid his hands down to the backs of Claire’s thighs and lifted her up onto the counter, hiking her skirt up over her knees. “It’s after being yours if you’ll disappear for ten minutes.”
“Fifteen,” Claire growled, licking at the sweat beading Dean’s throat. She kicked off her sandals, crossed her ankles behind him, and dragged him closer.
“You guys do know this is a hotel, right? Like, get a room!”
Forehead to forehead, Dean stared deep into Claire’s eyes. “You didn’t lock the door?”
“Apparently not.”
Lip curled in disgust, Diana closed the front door, pointedly locked it, and strode across the lobby toward the long hall that led to the back of the guesthouse.“We’ve got a bit of shopping-mall-takes-over-the-world situation here, but you guys go right ahead and continue with that whole blatant heterosexuality thing; there’s probably time. I’ll just make myself a sandwich and feed the cats. Coming, Austin?”
“Finally,” he snorted, jumping carefully down off the counter, “someone who has their priorities straight!”
“Are they always like that?” Sam wondered as the older cat fell into step beside him.
“Are you kidding? They’ve only been apart for three days—you should see them after a week. Spontaneous combustion.”
Sam frowned.“Wouldn’t that kill them?”
“You’d think.”
As the footsteps of the two cats and her sister faded toward the kitchen, Claire sighed.“Well, I’m no longer in the mood. You?”