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Unmarked Graves Page 8


  The kitchen at Michael’s house definitely was big enough to accommodate a table and chairs, although it was a cozy little bistro set for two and nothing fancy. Still, it was good to sit there and look out at the backyard, still cheerful with its flowerbeds and expertly manicured lawn, even though the sunny weather from the previous week seemed to have taken a break, and heavy clouds had begun to move in overhead, blotting out what had begun as a bright morning.

  He and Rosemary ate their breakfast sandwiches and hash browns, and Will had to admit it felt damn good to get some solid food in his stomach, even though in general he tried to avoid the greasy stuff. Then again, they weren’t real hash browns if they didn’t have a little grease.

  “Much better,” she remarked as she folded up the wrapper that had held her egg and cheese sandwich, then shoved it inside the bag that had contained their food. “I almost feel human now.” A pause, and then she went on, “I just wish I could get my mind wrapped around what I did last night. No matter what I do, it just keeps replaying in my head.”

  “You did an amazing thing,” he told her. Did he dare reach out and touch her hand? He wanted to, very much. After all, they had kissed. It wasn’t as though they hadn’t shared any kind of physical intimacy. And he had the sudden intuition that Rosemary needed him to touch her right then, that she needed to know he wasn’t put off by these powers of hers, no matter how strange they might seem to her.

  In silence, he reached out and very gently laid his hand on top of hers. He saw how her big blue eyes widened in surprise…and also how she pulled in a little breath, as if acknowledging to herself how much she’d wanted that contact.

  “It scares me,” she said, her voice very quiet.

  “There’s no need for you to be scared,” he replied. “You have a remarkable gift, one that helped you when you desperately needed a solution to a problem that confronted you. I don’t see anything frightening in that…do you?”

  A long silence. Her gaze moved toward the tabletop, to the sight of his large sun-browned hand covering her slender, pale one. When she spoke, her voice was troubled. “What are we doing, Will?”

  “I don’t know,” he said honestly. “But I’m willing to find out if you are.”

  Again, she was still. However, she didn’t move her hand, which he thought had to be an encouraging sign. At last, she looked up at him, worry clear in her eyes…but also a certain resolve, as though she’d decided that she wanted to move forward, even if she had no idea where exactly they were headed.

  “I am,” she said. Then, very carefully, she slid her hand out from beneath his and got up from her chair. She moved closer to him, then bent down and kissed him on the cheek. In a quite different tone of voice, she added, “I’m going to take a shower now,” and turned away so she could head out of the kitchen and toward the stairs.

  Will watched her walk away, a cautious joy rising somewhere in his heart. No, he didn’t know where all this was going, but it seemed as though he and Rosemary had both determined that they were going to head there together.

  For the moment, he’d allow himself to be content with that.

  Chapter 6

  Luckily, she’d washed her hair on Saturday morning, so Rosemary piled it on top of her head, secured it with a clip, and climbed into the shower in the guest bath, glad that she could get cleaned up quickly. Yes, letting the hot water beat down on her scalp probably would have felt good, might have helped with the dull headache currently pulsing behind her temples, but she didn’t want to spend that much time on herself. Not today…not with Will waiting downstairs for her.

  She thought she could still feel the pressure of his hand on hers, which she knew had to be her mind playing with her. Even so, she couldn’t ignore how welcome his touch had been, how solid and strong and reassuring even that brief contact was. She needed that reassurance right then, when her own body felt somehow alien to her.

  That reaction, while possibly understandable, was something she needed to get past, and quickly. As Will had tried to tell her, the only thing that had really happened was that the psychic powers she already possessed had decided to grow stronger, for whatever reason. Considering who they were up against, being more powerful had to be a good thing, didn’t it?

  Well, assuming she and Will ended up having a second confrontation with Caleb over the footage. Rosemary had to admit that scenario seemed like a long shot at the moment, since they didn’t even know where the hell — no pun intended — he even was.

  But Michael’s “source” had managed to ferret out Caleb’s true identity, and so that led her to believe it was probably only a matter of time before the mysterious hacker…or whoever he was…also discovered where her part-demon ex-boyfriend had gone to ground.

  Caleb is not your ex-boyfriend, she scolded herself as she got out of the shower and toweled herself off. A few dates does not a boyfriend make. He’s just a guy you went out with a few times.

  A guy she’d kissed.

  A shiver of revulsion went over her at that thought. It didn’t seem to matter that at the time, she’d believed he was only an indie filmmaker from Indiana, nothing more, nothing less. She’d still touched lips to someone who wasn’t completely human, who had the blood of demons flowing in his veins. And she’d almost done a lot more than merely kiss him, except that something within her had pulled back at the last moment, as though an instinct she didn’t even know she possessed had reacted to his alien touch and drawn her away before things could progress any further.

  Demonic radar or something…maybe. Just another hitherto undiscovered talent of hers?

  If that’s what it was, she wished it had gotten its act together a little sooner, like the moment Caleb Lockwood had set foot in Sisters We. Or maybe not. If he hadn’t asked her to help him look for the missing footage, then maybe she would never have met Madeline’s ghost, would never have had any reason to call Will Gordon and ask for his help.

  So many dominoes, so many elements set in motion. Sometimes it was really hard to know what might have happened if that first domino had never gotten knocked down.

  Rosemary did what she could to thrust Caleb out of her head. She should be thinking about Will now, not that lying part-demon jerk. It had been a relief to see how quickly Will bounced back from his concussion, but she knew he wasn’t out of the woods yet. She got the impression he was pushing himself a little harder than he should, and yet there was only so much she could do to get him to slow down and give himself the time he needed to recover fully. And while she knew that was the prudent thing to do, she also couldn’t help feeling that they didn’t have the luxury of time at the moment, and Will was only being practical in trying to push himself as much as possible

  When she went into the bedroom, she picked up her phone and checked it for any messages. Nothing so far, but the hour had just ticked past nine o’clock. Possibly, Detective Phillips was waiting until after ten to call her, or maybe he’d had something more urgent come up and was back-burnering Will’s case for the time being. In a way, that would be a relief, although she doubted the detective would completely drop the matter, despite her wish for him to do that very thing. Dealing with the problem of the stolen footage was hard enough; she really didn’t feel like having to dodge a police interrogation at the same time.

  The cool, gray day seemed to call for a sweater, so Rosemary put on her favorite blue-gray embroidered cardigan, a white tank top, jeans, and some pewter-colored flats she’d bought on sale but hadn’t had a chance to wear yet, since the weather had been so hot for most of October. A bit of makeup, a pair of silver hoops, and she figured she looked respectable enough to handle whatever she might encounter in the coming hours.

  At least, she hoped she’d be up to the task. Considering that she’d had to deal with ghosts and demons and police detectives during the past week, she honestly didn’t know what she might have to face next.

  When she went downstairs, she saw that Will had moved into the library, where h
e sat in the big armchair by the bookcase, a hardback volume in his hands. She didn’t know whether reading was the safest activity for someone with a recent concussion, but she decided it was probably better not to say anything. After all, she wasn’t his mother.

  Thank God.

  “Still no word from Detective Phillips,” she said, gesturing with her phone, which she’d brought downstairs with her.

  Will closed the book and set it down on the table next to his chair. From where she stood, she couldn’t see the title, although it looked like an older volume, dark leather with the dye rubbed off along the edges of the binding. “What about Michael?”

  “Nothing from him, either.” His current silence didn’t surprise her so much. After all, Michael had known she was going to be up most of the night looking after Will, and so he’d probably assumed she was tired and was leaving her alone. If he didn’t have any new information to give her, then there really wasn’t much point in making contact. “I guess we’ll just need to hang tight until we hear from either one of them, even though I know that doesn’t seem very productive.”

  “Maybe this would be a good time to get your car,” Will suggested. “I can wait here while you go with your mother to get it out of hock.”

  She smiled a little at that description. “That’s probably a good idea. It won’t be too early for her — my mother is one of those people who’s always up with the sun.”

  And because Glynis was already waiting to hear from Rosemary, calling before ten wouldn’t be a big deal. She unlocked her phone and entered the number — it was faster than going to her contacts list, and since her mother had had the same phone number for the past six years, Rosemary had memorized it long ago. Acutely aware of Will’s gaze on her — of how crystalline his gray eyes looked in the muted daylight that passed through the library windows — she waited for her mother to pick up, and then briefly explained how she needed to get her car out of the parking structure in downtown Pasadena.

  Of course, her mother said that wouldn’t be a problem at all, and that she’d be over in ten or fifteen minutes, depending on traffic. Good thing it was a Sunday and not a weekday, or even the few miles that separated Michael’s house here in Pasadena from her mother’s place in Sierra Madre could have turned into a major obstacle.

  “She’s on her way,” Rosemary told Will after she ended the call. “So I should be able to get this wrapped up pretty quickly.”

  “That’s good.”

  Because she didn’t want to get into any kind of serious discussion during these few minutes while she was waiting for her mother to arrive, Rosemary instead asked Will what he wanted to do with the rest of the day — maybe take it easy and just hang out here at Michael’s house and watch TV?

  He said that sounded like a good idea, depending on what Detective Phillips needed from them. With any luck, he’d be willing to come here for the interview, but they needed to be prepared to drive to Glendale if necessary.

  “Well, we’ll deal with that when and if it happens,” Rosemary said. “I mean, he knows you’re supposed to be taking it easy. He might wonder why you’re here instead of at your own house, though.”

  Will shrugged. “We can always ask him to meet us there. He doesn’t need to know you came back over here for a shower.” His eyes met hers briefly, although she couldn’t quite tell what was going through his mind. Voice level, he added, “I was also thinking that it might not be a good idea for either one of us to be alone tonight. Just in case.”

  In case of what? That he wasn’t quite as recovered from his concussion as he wanted her to believe, or that he was worried the only reason Caleb hadn’t come after them was because they’d been together?

  Maybe a little of both. To be honest, Rosemary hadn’t been looking forward to sleeping here by herself, even though she knew this house was perfectly safe.

  But it wasn’t, was it? After all, Caleb had walked into the place without any problem at all, had sat at the table over in the dining room and eaten pizza and drunk beer with her while they sorted through Colin’s files from the cache in Michael’s garage. So much for the anti-demon wards Michael had placed all over the property — they clearly couldn’t keep out someone who was only a quarter-demon like Caleb.

  Which meant he could waltz in here any time he damn pleased. A chill went over her at the mere thought of turning a corner and coming face to face with Caleb Lockwood.

  “You’re probably right,” she told Will. “We might as well go back to your house, then — it’s a more logical place for us to be. I can put together an overnight bag once I’m done getting my car.”

  And just like that, she’d committed to staying at Will’s house. Rosemary wondered if she was slowly going crazy and just hadn’t noticed. A distinct possibility, but she knew his home had a spare bedroom because she’d seen it when she’d taken a break during her vigil at his bedside to use the bathroom — the only bathroom, unfortunately. That arrangement might get a little awkward, although she supposed they’d manage.

  “Good,” Will said, and looked as though he was about to say more. However, the doorbell rang just then, and Rosemary went to answer it.

  Her mother, of course. She told Will she was glad to see him doing so much better, and he smiled and thanked her. If Glynis hadn’t been there, Rosemary might have kissed him before telling him she’d be as fast as she could, but such a public display of affection would only invite more questions. Better to get this over with.

  She and her mother headed out on their errand — but not before Rosemary moved Will’s car to a spot at the curb out front so it wouldn’t be in the way when she returned. As they drove off, she had to hold back a sigh.

  Just how many houses would those damn demons end up ruining for her?

  Will had been in Michael’s house several times before, but never alone like this. It felt awkward to sit there in the library and pretend the current situation was entirely normal, and yet he knew the best thing he could do for himself would be to remain in this chair and quietly wait for Rosemary to return.

  His head hurt a little, and so he wasn’t terribly eager to pick up the book he’d been inspecting. Instead, he shut his eyes and leaned against the back of the armchair where he sat, telling himself it was fine to do nothing for once, to let his mind be calm.

  Naturally, that was when his phone buzzed in his pocket.

  Frowning, he dug the cellphone out of his jeans and looked down at the screen.

  Michael’s number.

  “Hi, Michael,” he said, trying to sound rested and relaxed, and not as though he’d been knocked out cold by a demonspawn the night before.

  “How are you doing?”

  “Better,” he replied. That was a safe enough answer, and nothing more than the truth — after all, he was feeling much better than he had the previous evening.

  “Is Rosemary okay? I tried calling her first, but it went to her voicemail.”

  “She’s fine. She went with her mother to get her car out of the parking structure by the church.”

  “Got it. Anything from the police?”

  “Not yet.”

  A pause. Then Michael said, “Well, I guess they do things in their own time. Anyway, I know you and Rosemary will keep your stories straight. That’s not what I’m calling about.”

  Will sat up a little straighter in his chair. There had been a note in Michael’s voice he didn’t quite like, something tense, worried. “What is it?”

  “Have either of you experienced anything strange since your confrontation with Caleb Lockwood?”

  Besides recovering from a concussion? Will thought, although he didn’t say the words out loud. Instead, he replied, “Rosemary saw Madeline’s ghost again, but otherwise, no.”

  “What did she want?”

  Briefly, Will recounted what Rosemary had told him about the encounter, ending with, “I don’t know who or what she was talking about in terms of ‘help,’ but I guess we’ll just have to see what happen
s. But from the way Rosemary described it, it wasn’t a frightening encounter or anything.”

  “Well, that’s something.” Michael released a breath, the sound a harsh rasp against the phone’s tiny speaker. “No, something weird happened this morning. I was thinking about your confrontation with Caleb, how it really feels like you’re getting in over your head — ”

  “Thanks for the vote of confidence,” Will observed dryly. “I thought you asked me to keep an eye on Rosemary because you were worried that she might need some expert help.”

  “Well, true.” Another pause, and he went on, “Look, if this was just a standard demonic infestation or oppression, then that’s one thing. You know how to handle yourself in that kind of situation. But if we’re dealing with cambions — half-demons — and their even more human offspring, then we’re in uncharted territory. The usual methods aren’t going to work.”

  Will knew that already from sad experience, recalling how he’d tried to use holy water on Caleb, only to have the part-demon basically laugh in his face. Anyway, the blessed liquid, which would normally make a demon recoil in pain and terror, hadn’t done a damn thing to Rosemary’s erstwhile boyfriend…or whatever he’d been to her. He related his experience to Michael, who made a grim sound.

  “That’s what I was afraid of. Anyway, I was talking to Audrey about it, and she agreed that maybe it would be a good idea for me to come to California and provide some assistance.”

  “You don’t need to do that — ” Will protested, and Michael cut him off.

  “It’s more like I can’t do that,” he said.

  “What do you mean?”

  “I mean that I went ahead and booked a flight on Southwest, and Audrey was going to drive me to the airport this morning. Only when we got in the car, it wouldn’t start.”

  Annoying, to be sure, but car trouble was kind of a given in that it inevitably reared its ugly head at the most inconvenient time. He said as much, and Michael gave a humorless chuckle.