“I take it I missed something?” The lilt in Bruno’s voice made it a question. He sat on the edge of the bed next to me, looking particularly yummy in black jeans, a black dress shirt, and black leather boots, all of which suited his dark hair and eyes.
“Dottie did a reading for me.”
“And pushed herself too hard,” he said, without the question this time.
I sighed in answer.
“She’s a grown woman, Celia, and knows what she’s doing. Don’t blame yourself.”
That was so much easier to say than to do, but I didn’t argue. There really wasn’t any point. I just shook my head and got up, crossing to where the little redheaded nurse, in her pale blue scrubs, was waiting with a wheelchair.
Bruno got up, too, then knelt in front of my wheelchair. Taking my hand in his, he said, “I’m so glad you’re coming home. I love you. You have no idea how badly you scared me.” His eyes grew haunted, then hardened with anger. “I just wish I could get my hands on the bastards who did this to you.”
I shuddered at the look on his face. I didn’t often see a resemblance between him and his relatives on the East Coast—reputed organized crime kingpins—or the man a vision had told me Bruno would have been if he’d never met me. But at this moment, I saw it all too clearly.
I don’t know what expression he saw on my face, but it affected him. As I watched, he swallowed all that rage, forcing himself to calm down. When he had himself under control, he leaned forward, kissing me gently on the forehead. “Let’s blow this pop stand.”
“Sounds good to me.”
He rose and gathered up the plastic tote bags that held the stuff I’d accumulated during my stay—books, magazines, toiletries, and other bits of junk. Bruno promised the same nurse who’d remembered us from the M. Necrose attack that he’d come back for the flowers and plants—and she reluctantly agreed to let him, so long as he did it soon. She wheeled me to the main entrance, where Bruno’s black SUV was waiting in the loading zone. The car has heavily tinted windows, and seats that are more comfortable than my bed. It’s new enough to still smell like vinyl and leather.
We drove in silence until we got onto Oceanview. Something was bothering him. Rather than sit and brood about it, I decided to just ask him straight out.
“What’s up?”
“I need to tell you something,” he said.
“Then why aren’t you talking?”
His mouth twitched. It wasn’t really a smile, but his expression softened enough that I didn’t think he’d be moving to Mount Rushmore.
“I’ve been trying to trace your knives using magic.”
“Wow, um, thanks. Any luck?”
“No.”
Okay, that was just weird. His blood was an essential part of their making. Logically, he should be able to find them anywhere on the planet.
“They haven’t been destroyed. I’d know it if they had been. But they’re being blocked from me.”
I blinked a little stupidly at that. Bruno is a top-level mage. He’s got world-class talent, excellent training, and plenty of experience. It would take somebody—or several somebodies of equal talent—to keep him from finding those blades. Of course, it had taken more than a hedge mage to put together that hologram spell.
I looked more closely at him. Bruno’s handsome features showed worry and exhaustion, and I’d have sworn there was a fine tracing of lines at the corners of his mouth where none had been just a few days ago. I reached out and laid a hand on his arm, gently, so as not to interfere with his driving.
“I hate to lose them. But if some collector has them behind wards that powerful, there’s not much we can do about it.”
“There’s more.” He pulled the car onto the shoulder, cut the engine, and turned on the flashers. I decided that whatever he was about to say, I wasn’t going to like.
“On my last attempt, I came this close.” He held his thumb and forefinger a fraction apart. “I wasn’t quite strong enough, so I called Matty. We made plans to work on it together this afternoon.”
That was a good idea. Matty’s only a level-six mage, but he knows how to make the most of his abilities. And he and Bruno are brothers. Being blood relations would make the bond between their magics that much stronger.
“So what’s the problem?”
“I’m thinking maybe I should reschedule. You see, I got a call from Alex this morning while I was on the way to the hospital to get you.”
“And?”
“She wants me to drop you off at the station. She wouldn’t give me any details and she doesn’t want me to stick around—said she’d give you a ride home when you were finished. I don’t like it.”
I can’t say as I blamed him. After all, until very recently a group of police officers had made it their mission to see me behind bars. The primary instigator was gone, dead through no fault of my own, but that didn’t mean there weren’t others who’d be looking to take any advantage.
Bruno continued, “I don’t like it. It feels … off. I’m thinking either it’s a trap for you or they’ve discovered something about your attack that Alex doesn’t want me to know about.”
I thought about it for a minute and decided the latter was more likely. Alex didn’t always like me, but I didn’t think she’d set me up to be imprisoned or executed. And she was a cop. She knew all about Bruno’s more … colorful relatives. She wouldn’t trust Bruno not to do something drastic. After the way he’d looked in the hospital when I first woke up, I wasn’t entirely sure I blamed her. Still, better not to say that. So I went with, “Alex wouldn’t trap me.”
He shook his head as if surprised by my naïveté. “I wouldn’t have thought Angelina would betray me either. People do what they think they have to, and the brass might not give Alex a lot of choice.”
There was a hint of hurt in his voice. Angelina Bonetti had been his high school sweetheart. He’d loved her once, and he would never have believed that she’d turn state’s evidence against his family. But she had.
I decided it would be best to avoid the conversational minefield Angelina presented and kept on point. “If push comes to shove, I’ve got diplomatic immunity,” I pointed out. “But I’m thinking it’s much more likely that they got a hit on one of the drawings.”
I’d told him about the drawings during one of his hospital visits. I hadn’t given him copies. But Dawna might have. She has some very strong feelings about justice and protecting her friends. As to what he’d do with the information …
“So, you want me to drop you off?” he asked, interrupting a train of thought I didn’t really want to ride.
I smiled at him. Not because I was happy but because he wasn’t trying to make the call for me. Maybe what I’d said to him the last time we were pulled over on the shoulder of a road had sunk in a little. “Yeah. I think so.”
“All right. But call me when you’re finished. If I don’t hear from you by two, I’m calling Roberto.” Roberto was my very expensive, top-of-the-line criminal defense attorney who had, thus far, managed to keep me from getting staked, beheaded, or permanently incarcerated. If I was … unnecessarily delayed … at the police station, calling him would be a very good idea. I nodded, and Bruno got us back on the road.
“You’ll have to expect to see an unfamiliar number when I call. My cell was in my car.”
He shook his head, a hint of amusement coming into his expression. “You and cell phones.”
“Tell me about it.”
The humor drained from his face, leaving him looking sad and grim. I wasn’t trying to read him, but I caught a glimpse of his thoughts. He was remembering what I’d looked like when they’d brought me in from the beach. He’d been absolutely terrified that he was going to lose me, either to death or to the vampire part of my nature.