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His voice was soft as a breeze as he said, “I never meant to hurt you.”
“Bullshit!” I yelled, pushing past him toward the door, the plaque pressed to my chest.
“Nola, please.” He grabbed my arm. At first, I thought he would grab for the plaque, but he was only trying to keep me from leaving. “The Kerrigans—”
Before he could finish his sentence, a rage I could only describe as volcanic bubbled up from my belly and surged through my arm to my hand. He knew the Kerrigans? Was he working for the Kerrigans?
And suddenly, Jed’s arm was on fire.
He yelped, waving his flaming sleeve back and forth, feeding the fire oxygen and making a small situation much worse.
“Stop moving!” I exclaimed, I shoved him into the kitchen and pushed his sleeve into the sink. I picked up the sprayer and shot an arc of water toward him. After briefly dousing Jed’s face, I aimed the stream at his arm and put the sleeve fire out. His face was pale and dripping wet as we stripped him out of his sodden shirt. While the flames hadn’t left a mark on his flesh, the outline of my hand was clear, as if my palm had given him a contact burn. I jerked my hand away, unable to see anything but the blistered, bright-red handprint I’d left on his arm.
Backing away, unable to take my eyes from the mark of violence I’d left on his skin, I told him, “Don’t come near me again.”
I marched out of Jed’s apartment and drove directly to the shop.
* * *
How could I have been so stupid? How was it possible that Jed was some sort of witchcraft spy? Who was Jed, really? Was he working for the Kerrigans, or was there some new third party involved in the feud? How would the Kerrigans know someone from Tennessee? Was Jed really from Tennessee? Was the accent fake, too?
Oh, good night, I’d let that man see me naked.
I’d been had. I was the dumb henchman in the Bond movies who was distracted by female sidekicks with overtly sexual names who eventually strangled the henchman with their thighs. I’d been used. He’d never liked me. He’d never found me “adorable” or “sweet” or any of the little endearments he’d tossed about so casually. And I think that was what hurt so much. I’d really believed he liked me just for me. Not because of what I could do, because I was Nana’s heir, or because I fit conveniently into his life as his lovely normal girlfriend. For me.
I do not remember anything about the drive, other than that I skipped going to the store in favor of pulling over in the Half-Moon Hollow Baptist Church car park to scream and beat on my steering wheel. And at the BP station. And the Bait-n-Beer.
It was a long drive.
Maybe, on some level, I’d known. Maybe that was the root of whatever had kept me from telling the truth about why I was here, about the search. Some part of me must have known he wasn’t trustworthy, too good to be true.>But where did that leave me with Jed?
I’d told myself I was keeping things from Stephen to keep the peace and to protect him. But that was based on that fact that I’d known he couldn’t accept the witchcraft or the weirdness. I thought perhaps Jed was just quirky enough that he could. At the very least, I could tell him about Dick. Or warn him about Dick.
“So you haven’t told him about the witchy stuff or the Elements or anything?” Andrea asked.
“It’s kind of hard to fit into a conversation,” I told her. “How did you tell people that you were a vampire?”
“I didn’t tell people, really, until I told my parents,” Jane offered.
“How’d that go?”
Jane frowned. “My mother asked me if I could try not to be a vampire anymore.”
“My parents disowned me way before I was turned,” Andrea said. “But they did get really indignant when I didn’t invite them to our wedding.”
“That’s remarkably unhelpful,” I said, covering my face with my hands. I was going to have to talk to Jed about some of these things. And the small matter of my returning to Ireland in a few weeks’ time. Otherwise, we were doomed to end up just like Stephen and me. And that wasn’t fair. If anything, I should let my personality and emotional baggage doom the relationship.
“You want to go back to talking about sending that Spanish guy the naked pictures?” Jane asked, nudging me with her elbow.
“No.”
* * *
It took a while to pry my vampire friends out of my living room. Jed had given up hours before, finding some excuse to retreat back to safe quarters on his side of the duplex. Jane and Andrea finally persuaded Dick to leave before he could try to replace other fixtures by reminding him of a Dukes of Hazzard marathon starting at midnight. I waited until I saw the taillights clear the driveway before sprinting across the porch. Before I could knock, Jed opened his door, yanked me into his foyer, and pinned me against the wall. Without saying a word, he pressed his lips against mine in a searing kiss. I moaned, twisting my fingers in the light cotton material of his long-sleeved workshirt as his hands slipped around my waist. Breathless and dizzy, I pulled away from him.
“Your family scares me,” he said.
I arched an eyebrow. “Family?”
