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Drizzle dripped down her face, annoying her as she waited.
At precisely the time she expected him, the colonel pulled into the parking lot and got out of his big, blocky, camouflage-painted car with the giant tires that looked like it could climb a mountain. It suited him.
“Hello,” she said. He was even taller than he had seemed in her visions.
“Hello,” he said, with a puzzled expression. “Do I know you?”
She hesitated for a moment. In her visions, she also had not noticed how nice his voice was, deep and smooth. It reminded her of Barry White. “We have never met, but I need to speak to you.”
“I’m all ears.” He gave her a broad smile that looked like he copied it from a magazine ad and a hands wide open gesture.
She looked at him with the only eyes she currently had open, her human eyes, unwilling to open any more in a parking lot in broad daylight. He did not appear to have any more than the one perfectly formed ear, since the other was lost in scar tissue. She didn’t see any extra ears. “Um.”
He chuckled a little. “I’m listening.”
“Oh. Okay.” Liliana spoke to the man’s shiny brass belt buckle while scratching at the back of her neck where a drop of liquid managed to work its way through her thick hair to tickle her nape. “The last man I killed was over four decades ago. He tried to beat my elderly second mother and rob her. Before that, when I was much younger, I killed a man who tried to force me into sex, and one from a rival circus who tried to poison my little brother while he slept in lion form.”
The tension changed in his body from relaxed to ready with only a slight shift of his weight to the balls of his feet. “Why are you telling me who you’ve killed?”
“I am not a murderer. I only kill when I must to protect myself or my family. I have not killed anyone in a long time.”
His eyebrows went up. “Are you the one who killed my men?” His eyes traced the path of a drop of water that ran around her eyebrow, down her cheek, over her jaw and neck, and down into her cleavage below the low neckline of her blouse. She became uncomfortably conscious of how the damp cold outlined her body and peaked her nipples.
“Your men?” she asked, shifting her gaze to his pseudo-suede combat booted toes so she wouldn’t notice him noticing her so much.
“All the soldiers who’ve gone missing worked for me.” He took a casual step closer to her as if to explain at a more conversational distance.
She couldn’t take a step back without losing the tension that would let her spring to the roof rapidly. She held up a hand in a gesture for him to stay where he was. It was unlikely to be a coincidence for all the dead men to work for him. Their deaths were obviously also caused by a widow spider, and widow spiders only needed Other blood. “A lot of Others work for you.” That was also unlikely to be a coincidence, since there were so many more Normals than Others.
“Yes,” he said, his expression and lovely deep voice both neutral.
She nodded. So, he knew what his soldiers were. “Call off the Celtic wolf you paid to hunt me.”
“I didn’t pay him to hunt you.”
Liliana blinked water off her human lashes, and even without her third eyes confirming his words, she believed him, at least the literal truth of his words. Sidhe were particular sometimes about their phrasing, but usually told the truth. So, this Fae colonel had not paid Doctor Peter Teague, and probably had not indicated that he should hunt her in particular. That didn’t mean he hadn’t asked the red wolf to stop his soldiers from getting killed, or that he would in any way discourage him now. She tried giving him back the same honesty. “I didn’t kill your men.”
He studied her for a moment, as if considering taking her word, then his fighting crouch became slightly more pronounced. “Teague and Giovanni are a sharp investigative team. I’m more inclined to believe them than a stranger, especially one accused of murder.”
She sighed. This was getting her nowhere fast. He did not believe her, even though she believed him. Now he probably thought she’d killed his soldiers and only came here because he was next on her list. “Detective Shonda Jackson is also a smart investigator. She does not believe I killed your men.”
“The civilian police detective assigned to the case?” He took a subtle step closer to her, making it look like a simple shift of weight from foot to foot. He was trying to creep close enough to grab her so he could use his superior size and strength to his advantage.
A good tactic.
Liliana nodded and sighed again. “You are not going to call off the red wolf, are you?”
“Not likely,” he said, and there was something faintly apologetic in his tone.
She looked into his eyes, meeting them for just a moment. “I did not kill your men, and I intend you no harm either, if you let me be.”
“I’d like to believe you,” he said, and his voice softened. His face up close was compelling beyond anyone she’d ever met. Dark, smooth skin where it wasn’t marred by a burn scar like a ripple in Damascus steel. High cheekbones, a broad nose over full lips, and a jaw so square, construction workers could use it to measure corners. His whole body stood solid, a pillar of determination and strength.
“I’d like for you to believe me too,” she said. That moment seemed oddly suspended in time, as she met his eyes and a drop of water dripped from his hat.
She hurled herself toward him.
He brought his arms up to block an attack, but she wasn’t attacking.
