“Yes, really.”
“At least my victim isn’t going to cry all night about losing the first ten pages of his book report.”
“Well, aren’t you just the do-gooder,” the shifter sneered.
At one time—like, an hour ago—all of this bickering would have bothered her. Right now? Hardly a blip on her radar. She was busy.
Of course, then they’d argued about who got to sit next to her. Flattering, as well as insulting, since it was merely a pissing contest and not a true desire to be near her. Riley won. Barely. And only because he tripped Tucker and the boy fell face-first into the coffee-stained tile.
Now her shifter was leaning back, his arm stretched out behind her, and Tucker sat across from her, scowling at them. Mary Ann continued to pretend to sip and type, breathing in the delightful fumes while searching for answers about Daniel Smart’s brother, Robert.
“You know,” Tucker said. “I’m actually a pretty good guy when it’s just me and Mary Ann. You kind of harsh my mellow, Fido.”
“I’ll pretend that’s true.”
“It’s true,” Mary Ann said without looking up from the screen. “Just like I negate Aden’s abilities when I’m around him, I negate Tucker’s evil.”
“I’d argue the word evil,” Tucker said.
“And you,” she went on, ignoring the demon, “negate my negating ability.”
“Poor Tucker,” Riley sneered. “Having to deal with being a bad boy.”
“And don’t you care that I’m calling you by different dog names, Max?” Tucker said with an obvious sulk.
“No. And by the way, Max is my brother’s name.”
“Wait.” Tucker leaned forward, lips twitching into a grin. “Your brother is a wolf-shifter and his name is Max?”
“Yeah. So?”
“So you do know that’s, like, the most popular dog name of the year?”
“What are you, a statistical handbook?”
Frowning, Tucker ran a hand through his hair. “If you’re not gonna react to insults the right way, I’m not sticking around. First I called you Fido. No reaction. Then I called you Max, and you corrected me. You’re lame.” He slid from the booth. “I’ll be outside. Smoking. Maybe drinking.”
“Don’t stab anyone,” Riley said with a wave of his fingers.
His expression darkened. “Do you have anything to add to this conversation, Mary Ann?”
“That’s great,” she said distractedly, having already tuned them out.
He pushed out a sigh. “Find me when you’re done.”
“Sure, sure,” Riley assured him. Then flipped him off.
Tucker stomped out of the café, the bell chiming over the door.
“What a douche,” Riley muttered. “I’m going to kill him before this is over, you know that, right?”
“That’s great.”
“And you’ll be okay with that?”
“That’s great.”
“You’re not listening to a word I’m saying, either, are you?”
“That’s great.” Seventeen years ago, people had not Facebooked or tweeted their every thought, so finding Robert Smart was a little more than difficult. But she was finally getting somewhere.
She found a news story about him, and that led to another, and another and still another. Each one had to do with Robert Smart’s ability to locate dead bodies and communicate with the dead. But none of them mentioned raising the dead. More than that, there was no mention of his death. So, she might be getting somewhere, but it wasn’t doing her any good. Until—
Bingo! A story about his disappearance. Excitement rushed through her as she read the first few lines. He’d disappeared the same night his brother was killed. And…oh. Disappointment replaced her excitement. “His body was never found, and he never married,” she said. “He had no children, no relatives other than Daniel and Tonya.” Which meant talking to his family was out. Tonya was likely to call the police if she caught sight of Mary Ann again.
“That’s great,” Riley said, mimicking her. Then, without taking a breath, he added, “But he could be out there talking to the witches or the fairies, you know.”
And if he had no family, what kind of last wish would he have had? Not to say goodbye to them, of course, as Mary Ann’s mother had wanted to do with her. So, what had he wanted?
She needed to know. In order to leave Aden, Julian had to do what his human self regretted not doing. But the souls didn’t remember their human lives until someone reminded them. Right now, she was the only one who could remind Julian.
“Mary Ann,” Riley prompted.
Maybe if she printed out his (previous) life story and read it to him? Maybe then he’d remember. Or, maybe it was time to switch gears and spy on Aden’s parents. Yeah, maybe. The deed to their house belonged to Joe Stone. Paula, the mom, hadn’t been mentioned. Were they still together? Separated?
“Mary Ann?”
“What?” Oh, yeah. Riley had said something. Robert, witches, fairies. “Of course he’s not talking to the witches or the fairies. He’s dead.”
A long, drawn-out sigh had warm, minty breath washing over her. “I meant Tucker.”
“Oh. Then go follow him. Kill him. Whatever. Please. I just need a few minutes of peace.”
A beat of stunned silence. “Are you trying to get rid of me?”
“Yes. But for some reason, it’s not working.”
Wonderfully calloused fingers settled on her chin and turned her face. “Mary Ann?” His eyes glittered with amusement.
“What?”
“You’re sexy when you’re focused.” With that, he leaned over and kissed her. Right there in front of everyone, he slipped his tongue into her mouth. He was warm and wet and as delicious as she remembered. She’d never been one for public displays of affection, but she found herself leaning closer, wrapping her arms around him, sinking her hands in his hair.
He knew just how to move his tongue against hers. Just how to apply pressure, how to ease off, how to take her breath and give her his. And the warmth, she couldn’t get enough. She pressed closer to him, so close she could feel tendrils of energy flowing into her mouth, down her throat and swirling inside her stomach.
She knew that sensation.
Panic infused her, and she wrenched away. They were both panting, but Riley was glazed with a sheen of perspiration. Her heart raced as she gasped out, “I was about to feed off you.”
“I know.” There was no upset in his tone, which surprised her.
“And you didn’t pull away from me? You idiot!”
His lips quirked up at the corners. “I liked what we were doing.”
He was amused? Idiot was too kind a word for him. But, see? This was exactly why she’d run away from him. He didn’t take his safety seriously.
Scowling at him, Mary Ann dragged her legs between them and pushed him. Right out of the booth. He landed on his butt with a shocked humph. “Get out of here before I…before I…knee you in the balls!”
More quirking. He took his time standing up. “I’ll find a witch. If you’re hungry, you can—”
Her anger deflated. He was trying to take care of her. How could she stay mad at him? “I’m not.” And she wasn’t. Not fully. Not yet.
“You know what happens when you let yourself go without…eating. Just let me—”
“No.” Yes, she knew what happened. She hurt. Worse than she’d ever hurt in her life. “I’m fine.” She didn’t want him messing with the witches, possibly getting bespelled—although the impotency thing he’d mentioned to Tucker might do them both some good—and she certainly didn’t want to be responsible for another death.
“The witches were going to hurt you. Now you can hurt them first.”
Technically that was true. She could hurt them. When her hunger reached the point of pain, she fed without thought or intent. Witches first, fairies second, but one day neither race would be enough. She’d crave the others. The vampires, the shifters. Even humans. But as she was now, only partially hungry, she would have to touch the witch to feed, and she just didn’t want to get that up close and personal if she didn’t have to. For all the reasons she’d previously mentioned, but also because, well, she liked a few of them.