Stone Cold Seduction

Chapter Three

Morning came too soon. I’d managed to fall asleep quickly, considering the shock and drama of last night. But as I staggered out of the shower and began putting myself together, the mirror wasn’t reassuring.

Although my hair is nearly black, I have fair skin and big, blue eyes. They are my favorite feature, mostly because I’ve inherited them from my mom. On her, they’d been sky blue and as innocent as the day was long. On me, their expression is usually far more guarded. Today, they looked haunted. Or hunted. My skin was a little more pale than normal, and the dark circles under my eyes weren’t going to win me any beauty contests.

Sighing, I decided to skip the make-up, as usual, even though I could have really used it today. As long as I didn’t make young children scream and run away, I would manage. My looks mattered little compared to my newfound knowledge that not only weren’t humans the only game in town, but I might not even be on their team.

Yesterday had been unexpected and unpleasant, with the exception of one very sexy stone man. However, he wasn’t enough to wipe away the feelings of bitterness and frustration. Despite what they say, ignorance is not bliss. It’s awful.

In the span of a few short hours, I’d made a number of alarming discoveries. My employee is a gargoyle. My best friend is an oracle. My father is a bigger monster than I’d already known. My childhood torturer is hunting me. My true nature is something I’ve never heard of, and I still don’t know half of the story.

That was enough to make a girl cranky. In an attempt to ease the tension forming, I closed my eyes and practiced the deep breathing my yoga teacher always taught at the end of class. There had to be a good reason for twenty-seven years of everyone else’s deception. I had to give them the benefit of the doubt. I trusted Teryl, so that was easy. Jax was a big, sexy unknown for me. Since he’d only been in my life a couple of months, he got the benefit of the doubt by default.

Today, I had a lot of questions and hopefully the guys would have more answers. Except…maybe I shouldn’t be too hasty. Answers would be good, but I preferred not to have any more demonstrations. I didn’t think I could cope today if one of them grew an extra head.

Still, I was supposed to meet them at my organic bath product shop. I grabbed my favorite knit jacket from the closet on my way out the front door. I locked my apartment and trudged downstairs, which pretty much covered my entire morning commute.

I’ve lived in Seattle my whole life. I love the rain and the lush greenery that results. I love the people, the diversity, and the eclectic offerings of my city. With no desire to put down roots anywhere else, I’d opened my own business here.

After unlocking the door to my shop, I stepped inside and flipped on the lights. An assortment of delicious smells wrapped around me. A hint of vanilla, a sprig of lavender, a pinch of cinnamon, a trace of fresh fruit.

This was home.

I couldn’t help smiling. This was my happy place, my security blanket, and my labor of love, wrapped into one. Rain streaked along the window.

In the months since my mother’s death, I’ve spent countless hours mixing, blending, crafting, and packaging my creations. Being able to work in my shop has meant more than ever. The escape it provides has been a source of comfort and healing. Some of my blends are charming accidents. Others are the result of hours of trial and error and precise measurements. Hand lotion and massage oil. Shampoo and body wash. I love them all.

I have a thing for being clean and sweet-smelling. I’m sure a therapist would have a heyday exploring my need for cleanliness. But when you’ve experienced the depravity of my father and his kind, you just can’t bathe yourself enough. How do you scrub your memories, heart, and soul clean? I don’t know the answer, but I damn sure try.

Emmaline’s opened three years ago, named in my mother’s honor. She’d laughed and cried when I’d brought her here for the first time. Her smile had lit up the store on opening day. She’d been my first customer and my biggest supporter. My heart clenched with her memory, and my eyes blurred with unshed tears.

God, I miss her.

She was killed eighteen months ago, but it still feels like yesterday. I was the one who’d found her. It had been staged to look like a suicide. The gun, the note, the whole setup was a textbook case. Or so the responding police officers had said. No one had listened when I said she wasn’t suicidal. She wasn’t depressed. There wasn’t a chance in hell she’d shot herself. Always smiling, always beautiful, she had loved life, the good and the bad. You’d have to have been a saint to have loved my father.

Of course, there’d been nothing to prove it was anything other than a suicide. As much as it galls me to admit it, my father isn’t a fool. He’s a cold, calculating bastard. They’d separated when I was three and maintained minimal contact. Memories of brief but civil conversations and a few custody exchanges stick in my mind. She’d always maintained her ladylike demeanor. Not once had she asked him for anything. And he’d killed her. The vicious, heartless bastard…

I sucked in a shaky breath. I didn’t have the energy to follow that train of thought right now. My rage burned through me and left me exhausted every time I let myself go down that path. Today, I was already at my limit.

Ironically, my father gave me the money for the start-up cost for Emmaline’s. He mailed me the deed to the three-story brick building and a check for twenty-five thousand dollars. Inside was a note: Don’t thank me. It’s a tax write-off, and the only thing you’ll get from me.

I’d been thrilled. It meant a shot at independence, and it signaled the end of any involvement with my father. Or so I’d thought. It was the best—and only—gift he’d ever given me. Not to mention, it is now the best cover I can have as I attempt to rob him blind. I really do love my shop, and I love my career. I am a hardworking, small-business owner. But in my father’s eyes, Emmaline’s makes me seem inconsequential. I’m nothing but a bit of fluff who likes to smell essential oils and test hand cream. And that’s a direct quote from the jerk himself, an offhand comment made at my mother’s funeral.

Walking deeper into my shop, I felt my lips curl into a sneer. I had so many negative emotions toward the man, I didn’t know where to start. I forced my face to relax and felt my features smooth out. He wasn’t worth wrinkles or frown lines. I headed to the small break room and flipped on the coffee maker. I pulled out a new filter, coffee, and mugs.

Exposed brick walls and modern, space-efficient fixtures gave the entire shop an industrial chic look. I kept the walls bare, and had my products displayed on reclaimed wood and recycled glass shelves. The break room was small. I kept appliances to a minimum, because it doubled as storage for items I needed to replenish often. The basement housed most of my supplies, but I didn’t like to leave the store unattended during business hours.

The simple ritual of making coffee soothed me almost as much as my shop did. The normalcy was reassuring in the face of so much unknown. The guys would be here any minute, and there was no need for me to start the day off on the wrong foot by skipping coffee. I had a feeling I was going to need the jolt of caffeine.

While the coffee brewed, I did a few quick yoga poses just outside the break room, to loosen up the stiff muscles in my neck and shoulders. I moved through a few sun salutations between shelves of products. I usually went across the street for a class or two a week, but this week, yoga probably wasn’t going to happen.

I’d just finished preparing our cups when I heard the first knock. As I wound my way through the wood and glass display cases, I saw Jax and Teryl standing together on the other side of the glass shop door. I was relieved to see they’d arrived at the same time.

Let’s get this show on the road. I squared my shoulders. I could handle it.

I hoped.

Unlocking the door, I ushered them in. “Hi. Coffee’s ready.”

I took a deep, appreciative inhale of the cardboard box Teryl waved under my nose. The sugary-sweet scent of maple paired perfectly with the yeasty smell of baked goods. My taste buds were already savoring the first bite. “The catsuit is forgiven if that’s from Dana’s Bakery.”

He laughed and kept moving the box. “I wouldn’t go anywhere else. I’m waving the white flag here.” His hair was artfully tousled, and he wore a pair of designer jeans and a multi-colored argyle vest over a dark purple, button-down shirt. Teryl was the only guy I knew who could pull off vivid colors and retain his masculine appeal. The colors were a reflection of his personality: upbeat, fun, and in your face.

I smiled and pretended to punch his arm. I didn’t really blame him for Luke’s arrival on the scene. I’d known my father would call in his favorite dog, sooner or later. “Done. If you ever put me in a catsuit and send me straight to Luke again, I will post pictures of you modeling for my mom.”

My smile grew when he blanched. My mother had been a talented seamstress who specialized in wedding gowns and special occasion dresses. In high school, after Teryl had accidentally broken her favorite dress mannequin, she’d made him step in and be her dummy for a day. As his ever-supportive friend, I’d snuck in and took a number of pictures of him in evening gowns before my mom noticed and took my camera. Thankfully, I’d saved the film and now have blackmail at the ready whenever he gets out of line.

“That will haunt me forever, won’t it?”

“Absolutely. What are best friends for?” I laughed as he pretended to scowl and made his way to the break room.

Which left me alone with Jax. He didn’t say a word, just stared at me. I smiled to cover my slight unease and rapid heartbeat. “Hey. I’ve got your usual black coffee in the back.”

His eyes flashed silver before his mouth crooked on one side. “Thanks.”

As he walked past me, I couldn’t help but admire the view. His jeans looked like they’d been made specifically for his body. The dark denim molded to his thighs and butt. I bit my lip. His short-sleeved, button-down shirt was loose, and part of me wished he’d turn to stone just so his shirt would come off again.

My first thought this morning had been of his wings and his arm turning to stone. And how very, very appealing I found him. It was a distraction I couldn’t afford on top of the new daddy drama, but oh, what a distraction he was. I’d been secretly drooling over the guy for two months, watching him haul boxes. Now, his drool-worthiness increased tenfold, knowing he turned to stone. A living, breathing work of art.

I must have made a sound, because he turned around and caught me staring at his backside with lust in my eyes.

Although I felt my face warming from embarrassment, I met his gaze. His eyes were pure silver, and he stood very still. A low noise rumbled in his throat, and I nervously cleared mine.

“Ah, okay, let’s go eat, shall we?” I walked back to the break room. The small room seemed smaller with Jax in it. A small counter, cupboards, and a sink lined one wall, and a round table and four chairs sat in the center. Assorted business supplies were stacked in the corner, next to a mini fridge.

I was thankful for Teryl’s presence. To cover my nerves, I grabbed napkins and paper plates, and passed them out before sitting at the table.

Teryl sat at the table and took a tentative sip of his coffee. His eyes closed in satisfaction. “One cream, two sugars. Perfect. Thanks, Elle.”

“Welcome.” I raised my cup and took a sip. I dared to look at Jax, then wished I hadn’t. He was testing his coffee, and I watched his throat work as the hot brew slid down.

Gah. Brain is mush, temperature is rising.

Jax sat to my left, and I swear, I could feel heat rolling off him. And now me. Who knew drinking coffee could be sexy?

Teryl got me back on track. “First things first. We need to determine your other powers.”

I blinked. Other powers? That did not sound promising. “Ah, I thought we talked about the shadowing last night. Is there more to it?”

Teryl snorted and crossed one ankle over the opposite knee. His foot jiggled. Poor guy could never sit still. “That’s just one of them.”

I swallowed more coffee, hoping the caffeine would rev me up enough to get me through the difficult conversation ahead. “There’s more? Like x-ray vision or moving things with my mind?”

Teryl nodded, his gaze softening with sympathy. “Yes, minus the x-ray vision or telepathy. Those aren’t in the shadow elf lines. Think dream manipulation, controlling shadows and darkness, that sort of thing.”

Well, crap. I grabbed a jelly filled donut from the box. No way was I having this conversation on an empty stomach.

Jax sipped his coffee in silence and watched me. I could feel him watching me, which was an odd, though not unpleasant, sensation. “Jax, why don’t you start with whatever info you think is important, and I’ll ask questions along the way.”

Jax had the unnerving ability to still his entire body. He did it now, while he thought about my request. Seeing the power coiled and waiting in his muscles as he thought about my request was surprisingly appealing.

I held my breath. This would be the first time I’d heard more than two consecutive sentences in that sexy voice, if I was lucky.

“As Teryl mentioned, the shadow elves are known for more than shadowing. Most can manipulate stone, which is why the gargoyles have an alliance with them. A few can enter dreams. I suspect your father can also alter thoughts when people are awake, too.” He frowned, and then amended, “I think he can manipulate the shadow of a thought or a memory, but that is only a suspicion.”

Leaning back in my chair, I folded and refolded my napkin. The idea of my father having that kind of power didn’t surprise me, but it was disturbing. It also explained some of my own suspicions.

Still playing with the napkin, I asked, “How would I know if I could do those things?”

Jax held out his arm. “Turn me to stone.”

I blinked at him. My mind immediately pictured his shirt off, arm hardening to stone, wings unfurling…and my libido immediately responded.

He knew it, too. The corner of his mouth quirked, and his low laugh sent a delicious tingle down my spine. I really wanted him to stop doing that. At least while Teryl was still here.

God, this was awkward.

“Touch my arm and imagine it turning to stone.”

I slowly placed my hand on his forearm. He was warm. I closed my eyes and let my fingers settle around him. I envisioned his arm as it had been yesterday: smooth, solid, and that dark shade of gray.

The shift happened so fast, I didn’t have time to react. His arm was suddenly rock hard beneath my hand. I dared to open my eyes. “Jax, you’re still warm.”

Teryl watched with a horrified expression on his face.

I immediately removed my hand. “What? Did I do it wrong?”

Teryl’s voice was strained, “No. That’s exactly what you’re supposed to do.”

“Then what’s wrong?”

The men had locked gazes, and I could swear there was a challenge in Jax’s eyes.

“Guys, we talked about this yesterday. No more manversations. Use your words, please. I’m not up for interpreting meaningful stares and growling.”

Teryl exhaled noisily and his foot continued to wiggle. “You did it right. We need to find your fate. That will explain a lot more about what your next steps should be. It would also give us an idea of what your abilities and potential are. Or your limits. Whichever comes first.”

That sounded like a great idea to me. “You said the oracle who first read it would have a copy, right?”

“Yes, and I can probably find out who that was.” Teryl was frowning. “Clio should be able to access those records.” The reminder of his far-away fiancé brought the mood down in an instant. Anxiety curled in my stomach.

When I say my father has ruined lives, I’m not kidding. Teryl has firsthand experience. Clio’s position with Jedren is closer to slave labor than administrative work. At least, that’s my opinion. Jedren expects complete loyalty from his employees, and he works them to death, some sooner than others. It isn’t hard labor, but working for Jedren is mentally grueling. Teryl has been hanging in there pretty well, probably because he knows his real mission is to help my Robin Hood cause, but since Jedren hired Clio, Teryl’s life has gone from good to bad.

Now, having learned about this shadow elf thing, I wondered just what Jedren did to his employees. If his employees had abilities like Teryl and Jax described, I could see my father using them for far more than crunching numbers and securing international accounts.

Teryl worked in the accounting department for Warlow Imports. I’d always thought he tracked the shipments by the accounting records, but after last night, I doubted he’d done something so mundane.

I swallowed hard. It was all starting to make sense.

“I won’t ask Clio to stick her neck out for me, Teryl.” And I meant that. His contact with Clio had been limited over the last few months, and we were both worried. He’d been turned down for vacation the last two times he’d put in for it. She’d been told she’d be in London for a few months, but just two weeks ago, she’d been told to stay for at least eight more weeks. Teryl was understandably anxious to see her.

Another thought occurred to me. “What kind of…uh…creature is Clio?”

The look Teryl gave me was full of pain. “She’s a rare oracle who can both find things and read minds.”

“What is he using her for?”

“I’m not sure.” His anguish was obvious. Hands in fists, he stared at the wall. “She can’t tell me.” His hands opened and closed a few times before he continued. “The oracles who can read minds, if their gift is overused…” He trailed off and stared out the window.

“They lose their minds,” Jax finished for him.

“They, what, go crazy?”

Teryl stood up abruptly, giving in to his need to pace. “They die!”

He was yelling, but not at me.

“She’s been with Jedren for six damn months. The strong ones last a year or two, but the damage can be done early on. The information they filter strips their personality and sanity, bit by bit, until there’s nothing left. They become a shell. And because Clio can do both, it’s twice as bad.” He slumped back into his chair and dropped his head into his hands.

I placed a hand on his back. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know.”

“I know.” He offered me a weak smile. “I wasn’t about to dump this information on you. You hadn’t shown any signs of your father’s blood, so I wasn’t going to burden you with the gory details.”

Okay, that stung. If I’d known all of this sooner, you can bet I’d have done a hell of a lot more. “If you didn’t think I could handle it…”

His bark of self-deprecating laughter cut me off. “That had nothing to do with it.”

“Then what?” I glared at both of them. “Why would you keep me in the dark? If you even suspected I was part shadow elf, you should have said something. That’s something I deserve to know.”

Why, over the past twenty-seven years, had no one told me any of this? Even worse, how had I not ever suspected?

Jax leaned toward me and in his calm, low voice said, “I think your father might have altered your memories.”

Ice coated my soul. My breath stuttered in my lungs.

Of all the horrific things I experienced at his hands, if what Jax said was true, that was by far the worst. Broken bones I could handle. Name calling I could handle. Even Luke… But having a memory, an intangible and precious experience, taken from me?

A horrible thought struck me. “Did my mother know?” My words came out as a whisper, but I was appalled. Had she known about me? About my father? Was that why she’d been killed?

I nearly jumped out of my skin when someone banged loudly on the store’s front door.

“Great timing,” Teryl grumbled.

Shaken and running on autopilot, I walked to the front of the shop and unlocked the glass door. A tall, beautiful man stood on the other side. He had medium-brown hair with copper strands running through it. Under the circumstances, I wouldn’t have noticed, except the sunlight struck it just right, and for a moment, it looked like his head was on fire. The effect was amazing and a little overwhelming.

“Elleodora?”

I stared at his gleaming hair. I was dimly aware of his smooth, tenor-pitched voice.

Jax was suddenly at my side. “Phoenix,” he said, deep voice dripping with contempt.

The man tipped his head in acknowledgement. “Hello, Jax.”

That snapped me out of it. “Who are you?” I demanded of the new guy.

He gave me a funny look, and then said, “My name is MacLean Douglas. My friends call me Mac.”

His smile was charming, teeth white against his tanned skin. His eyes were the color of a brand new penny. They almost matched his hair. It should have been an odd combo, but on him, it was striking. I estimated him to be in his mid thirties. He wore gray slacks and a light green polo shirt under a slightly wet trench coat. He reminded me of an executive on a Friday, ready to hit the golf course.

“May I come in?” he asked.

“I’m closed today. We’re having an employee meeting, so if you could come back tomorrow, that’d be great.” I had a bad gut feeling about him, and I wanted him to leave. Cute or not, he was an unwelcome intrusion.

“I realize that. I’m here on behalf of the light elves. We have some questions for you. It shouldn’t take much of your time.” The smile stayed in place, but I noticed his eyes weren’t smiling. He was watching me expectantly.

Light elves? My face felt stiff, and I turned to Jax. “Explain. Now.”

He kept his gaze trained on MacLean. “The light elves are the other half. They are guardians of the sun and flames. Just as the gargoyles work with the shadow elves, the phoenix work with the light elves. Each is unique.”

MacLean was watching us with interest. “I’d be happy to explain who and what we are.”

I ignored him and kept speaking to Jax. “Please tell me the Twilight series is not based on real people.”

Jax didn’t crack a smile. “No. Vampires and werewolves are myth. We are humans with…enhancements.” It sounded as if he was testing the word on his tongue. It came out awkwardly.

MacLean laughed, and the sound was rich and warm. “That’s putting it mildly. Elleodora, can I come in? I can answer any questions you have, if you answer a few of mine.” He waited patiently at the entrance to my shop, but none of us moved.

Hearing my given name deepened my irritation. The fact that some guy showed up on my doorstep the day after I found out who and what I was would have to be an amazing coincidence. And I didn’t believe in coincidence. “Ms. Fredricks is fine,” I said, my voice cold, “and no, you may not come in.”

The smile dropped off his face and his pleasant manner shifted to a business-like efficiency. “Ms. Fredricks, I’m afraid I’m going to have to insist. I’ve been asked to look into a matter of some urgency, and we think you might have a few answers for us.”

My shaky control snapped. “You know what? You can take your—”

“Elle,” Jax’s voice was soft, but it stopped my rant momentarily.

Pissed, I turned on him. “What? This is my shop. I don’t want more non-humans in here.”

“Elle,” he repeated with a little more force, “let him in.”

Arms still folded across my chest, I glared at both of them. “Ten minutes.”

MacLean’s smile was back. “Ten minutes is great, thanks.”

We stepped aside. I noticed he was much taller than I’d first thought. He had at least seven inches on me, which put him well over six feet.

He inhaled deeply after stepping inside. “Smells nice in here.”

I forced a tight-lipped smile. I didn’t trust him and wanted him to get straight to the point. His eyes were taking everything in. I had a feeling he didn’t miss a single detail. He was making me more irritated by the second.

Narrowing my eyes, I said, “We’re in the middle of a meeting, so if you wouldn’t mind, I’d like to get this over with quickly.” And then you get out, I silently added.

MacLean didn’t answer me, but turned toward Teryl, who had left the break room and joined us in the main shop. “Hey, Teryl. Haven’t seen you for awhile. How are things?”

I felt my jaw clench. Teryl knew him too? What else was I in the dark about? How could this have gone on around me for so long? I was starting to feel like an idiot.

My best friend gave me a sheepish look before answering. “Hey, Mac. Been good. Busy with work and helping Elle. All the usual stuff.”

MacLean’s gaze sharpened. “Helping Elle? What do you help her with?”

“Oh…you know,” Teryl stalled. “I help her around the shop when Jax isn’t around.”

Crap. This was already getting off track, and I was getting antsy and impatient. “I thought you had questions for me, Mr. Douglas? If not, we have a meeting to get back to.”

His easy smile was back in place. I got the impression my irritation amused him.

“I do, and I promise I won’t take much of your time.” MacLean looked around the shop with curiosity. “Tell me what you do in Emmaline’s.”

I raised an eyebrow in disbelief. Apparently the baskets of soap and rows of bottled lotion weren’t a big enough tip-off. “I sell exotic dog breeds and run an escort service.”

Did I mention I have a problem with sarcasm?

I felt a small surge of satisfaction when his smile disappeared for good. My mother would have fainted at my rude behavior. All I could think was, get the hell out of my shop.

“Don’t,” Jax warned.

“No, it’s okay,” MacLean assured him. He turned back to me, and I was struck by the change in him. All semblance of charm was gone. “How about I get straight to the point?”

“I would appreciate that.” If Jax thought I should try to be polite, I would fake graciousness even if it pained me. And right now, it did.

“Where are the souls?” MacLean demanded.

Silence blanketed the store. I couldn’t hear anyone breathe, and even my mind had stilled. Souls? Could this get any creepier?

“Phoenix,” Jax’s voice dripped menace. It was low and dark. “What kind of question is that?”

I shivered. Jax was scaring me.

MacLean didn’t pay him the slightest bit of attention. He was too busy watching me, waiting for an answer.

I gave him one. “Um…heaven?”

MacLean’s eyes narrowed, and he stepped forward. I think he’d heard my unspoken “duh.” Jax immediately moved between us, and his wings appeared inches from my nose. No wonder he wore those sexy, loose shirts that I’d thought existed so women could get a little eye-candy treat if he bent the right way, revealing one of those pleated slits.

Hello, gargoyle.

Too bad this was not the way I’d imagined seeing this version of him again. Tension rolled off both men in waves, and made my stomach drop. Violence made me sick. Literally.

Teryl was frozen in place, until he saw the look on my face. He jumped forward and put a hand on the gargoyle’s shoulder. “Jax, you need to stop.”

Toe to toe with MacLean, Jax couldn’t have been more different, but the two men both screamed danger. It was in their posture, still and ready. They were poised to attack. MacLean’s eyes glowed and crackled like fire. I could only see Jax’s back, but I just knew his eyes were flashing silver.

If they spilled blood in my shop…

My vision turned black around the edges, and I swallowed. Shaky knees forced me to lean on Jax for support. I felt his body relax a bit, and I was dimly aware of a wing pressing against my cheek.

“Get out,” Jax growled at MacLean. He turned around and gently walked me back to the break room. He placed me in a chair, and Teryl handed me a cup of water.

Just the thought of violence is enough to make me pass out. I hate the sight of blood. I hate the sounds of pain. That may seem odd, but pain is more than an emotion for me. It’s the sound of bones breaking. It’s the sound of flesh bruising or bleeding. A scream that grows and grows from inside until it becomes a piercing wail. Your body gives out, and your mind breaks.

If you’ve lived it, you know exactly what I’m talking about. It’s not something I would wish on my worst enemy. Not even my father, though I want him brought to justice. I just don’t want anyone’s blood on my hands.

“Are you okay?” I felt Teryl’s hand on my shoulder. I was embarrassed by my near-faint.

Jax took the chair to my left, and his presence was comforting. He was back to flesh, with his shirt in place. I could see MacLean over his shoulder, leaning against the doorframe, watching our little scene in the break room with a thoughtful expression.

“Just peachy.” I set the cup down and rubbed my face. “MacLean, I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

MacLean settled into the chair to my right without an invitation, and folded his arms on the table. I sensed Jax stiffen, and I put my hand on his arm. He didn’t relax.

“Over the last seven months, a number of souls have gone missing from all of the lines. We believe you know something about that. I’ve been asked to secure your cooperation and any information you have.”

“What in the hell are you talking about?” Teryl’s boyishly handsome face was flushed red with anger. He stood at the counter next to the coffee pot, a few feet from MacLean.

MacLean sat back and gave us all a hard, flat stare. “They’re gone. Someone has been stealing them and leaving no trace, no clue. A total of twenty-one are now missing. From all of the lines,” he stressed again.

“The keepers aren’t doing their jobs.”

MacLean glared at Jax. “That’s bullshit. Since when do the gargoyles let three of their own be taken?”

I saw a flicker of surprise in Jax’s eyes.

“Look, Mr. Douglas, I’m sorry you’re missing these…souls, but I have no idea what you’re talking about.” And for once, I was thankful for my ignorance. “I’m happy to cooperate, but I don’t have any information, and I don’t think I can be much help.”

“I disagree.” MacLean threw one last glare at Jax before shifting his attention to me. “I think you know exactly where they are. In fact, I think you’re the one taking them.”

Thank God I had my hand on Jax’s arm. His muscles jumped, and he would have stood if I hadn’t said, “Jax, no.”

I deferred to Teryl, who knew exactly what I had and had not been “taking,” to put it nicely. “Do you have any idea what he’s talking about?”

Teryl’s jaw worked for a moment. “The souls he’s referring to are the strongest, most pure of each line. Only a handful come along each century. They don’t necessarily come from a powerful family. It’s a fluke, really. But they’re valued from the moment their fates are read. When they pass, their…” He stopped and struggled for a word. “Their essence, their soul, remains. Each line preserves the souls.”

“Like embalming?” The idea was repugnant. I wrinkled my nose at MacLean. “That’s disgusting. Why would I want something like that?”

“No, not embalming,” Teryl replied. He ran his finger along a seam between the bricks that made up the break room wall, mentally running through his explanation. “It’s not a mummification process. Their bodies are gone, but the core of their power, their magic, remains.”

“So, what…you bottle it up? I can just imagine what kind of scent that would have. Better put it in the freezer.”

“This isn’t a joke.” MacLean’s eyes were flashing fire again. “If they fall into the wrong hands, it will be catastrophic.”

“Better light up the bat signal, because I’m fresh out of souls, in any form.” I pushed away from the table and stomped over to the coffee maker.

“The souls are housed in power objects,” Teryl said.

I didn’t look at him, but I was listening. I dumped my cold coffee out, then poured myself a fresh cup and set the steaming mug on the counter.

“The fae collect the souls, and bind them to a power object, like a ring or book or even a building, though that’s rare. The soul is then handed over or assigned to the keeper of the line for protection.”

The coffee suddenly smelled nauseating. “The fae? Now there are fairies, too?”

Jax took over. “They are not what you read in modern fiction. They are bound to the earth and have simple earth magic. The fae are contracted to collect the souls for protection. Otherwise, they keep to themselves.”

I massaged the back of my neck, and took a sip of my not-so-appealing coffee.

MacLean looked confused. “You really don’t know what we’re talking about?”

I glared at him over the rim of my mug.

“We believe Jedren altered her memories,” Jax said.

Jedren? Jax expected the new guy to know my father by name?

MacLean was silent for a long time, and I watched as his expression changed from confusion to disbelief to fury. “Well, that explains a lot.”

Something about his tone bothered me. “What do you mean?”

He smiled stiffly. “Here I thought you were pretending not to remember me.”

My stomach sank further. “Remember you? Have we met?”

He looked me square in the eyes and drove the final nail in the coffin. “We were engaged.”