Both her classroom and her quarry were on the second floor of their respective buildings, separated by an empty and lonely courtyard and a lot of inconveniently oriented walkways. She spotted only the backs of a pair of cops as they rounded the corner of the building opposite hers and descended its open staircase, headed for the parking lot.
Molly ran, cursing to herself all the while. Her boots weren’t bad for running, but they weren’t track shoes, either. With so many people still out watching or looking through windows, she couldn’t risk anything remotely flashy in the way of magic. Even if it worked at all, the number of witnesses would greatly weaken such a spell. The only thing she could think of in her rush down the stairs and across the quad was a brief prayer for luck.
Doubtlessly, she knew, there was probably a better spell to cast, and she would think of it ten minutes after it was too late. She ran.
Rounding the corner into the parking lot, she saw a couple of the police cruisers pull away. A van rolled on out into the street just as she got there, just behind a patrol car. Only one police unit remained. Her luck held.
“Kevin!” she shouted. Her thirtysomething uncle and his partner both paused, blinked and looked around. “Kevin! Tyrone! Hold up!”
“Oh, hey,” smiled Kevin Murray. His partner’s face brightened a bit, too, but only until Molly’s expression was easier to read. Both cops waited for her to close within conversational distance. “What’s up?” asked Kevin.
“That guy you arrested,” Molly huffed, “who was it?”
“Uh,” answered Kevin, glancing uneasily at his partner.
Molly shoved him on the arm. “Dammit, Kevin, it’s important!”
“Hey! Chill out! We’re good,” Kevin grumbled. “Why do you want to know?”
“You think you know him?” asked Tyrone.
“Yeah, and I think it’s probably some seriously dirty bullshit, so who was it?”
“Guy’s name was Carlisle,” Kevin finally answered. He saw Molly wince. “That would be exactly what you didn’t want to hear, huh?”
“Where are they taking him?” Molly asked. Again, the two cops exchanged glances. “Oh, come on, if he was just arrested like any other asshole you could tell me he’d be at the county lock-up or whatever, right?”
“We could,” Kevin frowned, scratching the back of his head, “if he was arrested on state or local orders…”
Molly processed the implication quickly. “Oh, you are fucking kidding me.”
* * *
He would forgive her. Knowing Alex, he likely wouldn’t even be irritated. He would express a little frustration at having his mundane commitments interrupted, but any such protests would crumble under her touch. Long and regular indulgences from two lovers had her at the height of her powers.
Piano music from a small, portable speaker dock filled the bathroom. Lorelei exited the shower feeling every bit as aroused and energized as she had been with Rachel just a few hours before. She hummed along, resisting the urge to dance in favor of quickly readying herself to leave, find her lover and mercilessly ravish him.
There would have to be a talk, afterward, about his newly awakened-or re-awakened? — talent and his selection of composers. Lorelei appreciated Haydn, but he had never been a particular favorite. Still, a man who could play like that could play any number of other pieces.
She couldn’t stop smiling as she dressed in stockings and garters, knowing he would get an extra little thrill when he felt them under her dress. There was more than just the musical talent on display in that message. There was a glint in his eye, a strong hint of confidence and seduction. He knew this would turn her on.
Now half-dressed, Lorelei reached for the phone to replay the video. She knew she was about to fall in love with him all over again.
The phone rang in her hand. She saw Molly’s name on the display. “Hello?”
“Lorelei, I’m at school. Alex just got hauled away by the Feds. They know about the fight after the party.”
Her passion and excitement came to a dead halt. Lorelei’s eyes flared with anger and understanding.
* * *
She sat waiting on his futon for him to get out of the shower. There was little to keep her company besides worry and guilt. The text message from Hauser five minutes earlier confirmed that she wouldn’t be able to put this off any longer.
Jason emerged dressed and ready to go. His good cheer only made her feel worse. “You wanna grab anything to eat on the way?” he asked.
“No. Jason, listen… we have to talk. Sit down?” she requested, gesturing to the futon.
His happy mood immediately diminished. He sat, leaving a little space between them and keeping himself turned toward her. “What’s up?”
“I wanted you to know… well, a lot of things. I wanted you to know that I’ve felt bad about the way I’ve been with you. I’ve been jerking you back and forth and it hasn’t been fair at all. This is two nights now that I’ve slept next to you but not with you and that’s… well, that’s kind of how it’s been all along, y’know?”
“Amber, I’m not in a rush,” he said. “I mean I know how I feel about you, but I don’t expect anything-“
“You should, by now,” Amber interrupted with a shake of her head. “With the way I’ve been acting, you totally should have expectations. Not ‘cause you bought me dinner and I owe you sex or anything stupid like that, but the way I’ve acted with you…” She paused. “I’ve wanted to, Jason. You’re an incredible guy. I’ve wanted to, and I can’t.”
His voice held steady, but gentle. “This sounds like a break-up talk.”
“I wish it were that simple,” she sighed. “I haven’t been straight with you.”
“Please, God, tell me you’re not a werewolf,” he said.
“I’m not, Jason. I’m not a werewolf or a demon or anything like that.” She held the grin off, not wanting to sidetrack the moment with levity. She didn’t have the time. “I am older than I told you, though. I’m twenty-four.”
His expression held. He obviously knew to expect more from this, but so far he had no reason to flip out. “Okay? So that’s an age gap, but it’s still a single digit. I know people dealin’ with four figures. I know that means a lot between us right now, but in a year or two it’ll mean less…” he frowned. “Wait. I’ve seen your ID.”
“Fake.”
“Why would you need a fake ID when you’re twenty-four?”
“Jason… I’ve had other relationships I didn’t tell you about, too. The last guy was… he was Ivy League and rugby and handsome and everything you’d want on the boyfriend resumé, and you blow him out of the water. You’re the smartest, sweetest guy I’ve ever met. You’re brave, you’re tough, you’re funny, you’re not afraid to be who you are… and I honestly think the age difference might not really be that big a deal in the end. You’re more mature than any guy I’ve ever dated, too, when it comes down to it.”
“…but you’re not interested? Is it the weirdness factor? All the crazy?”
“Not even that,” she shook her head. “And that’s the worst part. Even with the weirdness factor, I think: ‘Y’know? All he did was stick with his friends when they needed him. Who wouldn’t want that?’ But I can’t.”
“Why not?” he asked quietly.
Her hand went to the pocket of her jacket to fish out her wallet. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”
The badge and the ID card marked “FBI” all but stopped his heart.
“You’ve been under investigation since before I met you. I have to take you in, Jason,” Amber told him. “There are two cops right outside your door. Please don’t make this harder than it already is.”
Completely stunned, Jason wanted to ask if this was a joke but the question died on his lips. He didn’t know where to begin or what he could say.
Amber stood. “I need you to hold out your hands, please.”
He closed his eyes, now knowing far too many things he could say but too smart to let any of them fly. “How do I know you’re not working for the bad guys?”
“I did everything I could to protect you the other night. That was real. I had no idea that would happen.” She waited. He stared at her. “Jason, this goes way beyond just you and me. Getting away from me won’t change anything. You’ll just be a fugitive.”