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“Did you tell them about our agreement?”
“Only Wilder knows about that.”
Cain nodded, accepting this.
“Though I find it funny you’re asking me that right now, if you really don’t have anything to do with it.”
Cain rolled his eyes at me, all his bravado and composure restored. Now that he’d had a little time to let the news settle he had apparently been able to gather himself well enough to be the Beau Cain everyone new and loathed.
But I’d seen it. The tremble in his hand. The terror in his eyes.
“I don’t need anyone else thinking what you came here thinking. I have enough trouble at my heels on any given day without your uncle’s pack thinking I brought Mercy McQueen back from the dead.”
“Could you have?”
Our eyes met and the silence stretched long and awkward.
“I don’t know what you mean.”
“Liar. Answer the question.”
He glanced behind me, his expression unfocused. For a moment I worried there might be someone else in the room, but then he returned his gaze to me.
“I, personally, couldn’t bring anyone back to life. But you know perfectly well I have ways to get things like this done. I can have just about anything done if I want it.” His eyes narrowed and a chill slithered down my back. His words tasted like a threat.
“Who?”
Cain smirked and it was dark and unsettling.
“You know who, Genie.”
Chapter Eight
“I don’t like this.” Wilder stared up at the old plantation house in the Garden District.
“I know.”
“You’re sure we have to do this? Cain could have been lying.”
“I know.” I played with my sunglasses and looked up at the house, hating what was coming.
Last resort option one had become the next stop on my mystery-solving tour, which meant I now found myself standing in front of Santiago’s house. It didn’t matter that it was a lovely, sunny afternoon, and the temperature was warm even though it was November. I still got a shiver looking up at the place.
I’d called Wilder as soon as I left Cain’s place. I might be able to keep him on the periphery visiting Cain, but he would not be okay with me going to see Santiago on my own. The truth was, I hadn’t invited him just to keep from bruising his ego. I didn’t want to be alone with Santiago. I didn’t trust myself with him.
It wasn’t just that he was handsome and didn’t hide his sexual interest in me. I was an adult, I could keep my hands to myself and not yield to the temptations of a sexy dude. But the reason I didn’t trust myself with him was that my power craved him. Whenever we were in the same room together it was electric, and the witchy part of me wanted very badly to know what might come of the two of us joining together.
Trouble was, the combination of power needed… sacrifice. Blood, life, sex, you name it, there was no free ride when it came to getting a taste of his magic, and I worried that the witch in me wouldn’t care about the cost. The thirst for power was hard to ignore.
So I called Wilder, because I had a feeling Santiago knew precisely how to play me in order to make me do something I might regret down the road.
I wasn’t sure if it made me weak, overly cautious, or just smart. It didn’t matter. I was going to make sure I never let myself be in a room alone with Santiago if I could help it.
He rattled my cage.
Wilder just didn’t like the guy. Probably didn’t help that Santiago had openly tried to seduce me once right in front of him. I mean, that’s not going to make a great first impression.
Since then, Wilder and I had better determined what our relationship was, and I wanted to make sure my boyfriend trusted me even if he didn’t trust the man we were here to see.
