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“Your job isn’t to take out allies.” I hoped my words would stave off another clash of egos.
Niko, now back in his very human and very naked form—thank heavens for shadows—shifted restlessly. “We need to focus,” he insisted, running a hand through his tousled hair. “There’s a real threat out there, and we’ve just wasted time and energy on a friendly fire incident.”
“Speak for yourself. I expended no energy,” Cairo said dryly, extinguishing the last of the magic in his hands with a flick of his wrist.
“Why were you here?” I asked.
His lips tightened. There was something there—but I could tell he didn’t want to reveal it.
“Sorry for the near-death experience, Cairo,” I offered, willing to change the subject—for now, at least. “Next time, wear a neon sign.”
Cairo flashed a weary grin. “I’ll consider it.”
“Consider it faster,” Niko grumbled.
“Easy,” I soothed, hoping my voice carried enough calm to temper his beastly side. “We don’t eat our teammates, remember?”
“Only because you asked nicely,” he rumbled, a hint of humor beneath the snarl.
“Let’s wrap this up before anyone else tries to kill each other,” I said. I glanced at Cairo. “I’d appreciate it if you came with us—and told us what the hell is actually going on here.”
He gave me a wary glance. “Fine.”
“Stick close, and no more surprises,” I warned, my gaze lingering on Niko for a beat longer than necessary. His wolfish eyes held mine.
When I turned away, I found Riker watching us with an unreadable expression.
With a deep breath, I squared my shoulders against the heat of the moment. If I was lucky, I’d survive long enough to sort through the tangled mess of feelings later.
After all, hunting monsters was easy.
But understanding my own heart?
That was the real challenge.
CHAPTER 6
As we entered my office, Niko, a silent and brooding dark cloud once again clad in denim, was right on my heels, with Riker’s bulk taking up the rear. Cairo, our resident djinni fugitive, seemed to shrink with every step closer to the truth.
“God, it smells like Woodstock in here,” I muttered, squinting through the haze that clung to the room. Elijah sprawled on the rickety couch, his fingers loosely gripping what remained of a smoldering joint. Beside him, Helen sat perched like a fabulous flamingo, her bouffant hairdo defying gravity—and common sense.
“You’re back,” I announced unnecessarily.
“Couldn’t wait to hear what you found,” Helen said.
“Hey,” Elijah greeted, his voice as mellow as the smoke wafting around him. “You dudes catch any bad monsters?”
“Monsters? Maybe. Answers? That’s why we’re here.” I gave Cairo a pointed look, the kind that said, ‘spill it or else.’ The air crackled, not just from the tension, but because when you mix supernatural entities with emotional baggage, sometimes you get literal sparks.
“All right, Cairo,” I started, planting myself firmly in front of him. “Let’s cut to the chase. What’s with the pyrotechnics all across town? You got a fire starter badge on your sash or something?”
Cairo’s eyes, two simmering coals, met mine. “Tessa, I assure you, the fires—they are not my doing.”
“Then whose?” I demanded, channeling the no-nonsense attitude that kept me alive in this business. Well, that and an unhealthy reliance on Riker’s brawn and Niko’s wolfish instincts. “We need the truth, and you’re going to give it to us. No smoke and mirrors—or smoke and anything, really.”
“Please, understand,” Cairo pleaded, his British accent making him sound like he was auditioning for the role of ‘misunderstood villain’ in a Bond film. “It is complicated.”
“Life’s complicated,” I retorted. “Supernatural bounty hunting is complicated. This”—I gestured at Cairo—“is Tuesday. Now start talking before more things go up in flames, including my patience.”
