“Ballocks.” Kellach nodded at Pyro. “Call Simone and have her meet me at the station.” He sat next to Lex and slammed the door, his bulk taking up most of the back seat. He turned toward her. “I thought we could be friends. You’ll regret this, Detective Alexandra Monzelle, as you don’t want me for an enemy.”
A chill swept down her back, although she kept her face calm and serene. She’d taken down some of the worst criminals in the northwest. Even so, instinct whispered she’d never come up against a force like this man. “That’s your choice.” She turned and leveled her gaze at him. “You want me for an enemy? You’ve got it.”
Chapter 3
Kell sat back on the cheap plastic chair, his hands resting lightly on the scarred wooden table. The smell of sweat and despair filtered through the small interrogation room, going nicely with the dingy yellow walls and faded tile that might have been white at one time. He’d been read his rights by a bored junior detective who had a barely-there mustache, making Kell wonder if the kid was older than twenty.
He waited. Had been waiting for nearly three hours, damn it.
High heels clicked down the hallway, and soon the door was shoved open. “Simone,” he said, half-rising from his chair.
His cousin raked him with a black look as she shoved dark curly hair off her slim shoulders. “I told you I had a spa week planned, Kellach. What the hell are you doing dragging me away from my seaweed wrap? I had to fly back here on the double.” She clicked around the table and sat when he’d drawn out her chair. “For the love of the Liffey, why are we here?”
Shite. He’d forgotten about her plans that week. “I apologize for cutting short your spa trip.” Why would anybody want to be wrapped up in seaweed, anyway? “I shouldn’t have called you.” He glanced down at her dangerously red designer suit, black patent heels, and silver jewelry—including the Celtic Knot pendant he’d given her for her birthday decades ago—and his heart warmed that she always wore it. Sentimental little witch, even if she acted like such a mean girl. “Although you look stunning, cousin.”
She turned and fluttered naturally long eyelashes. “Do no’ even try to humor me, Kellach Gideon Dunne.”
Her slip to the brogue proved she’d been touched, and her deliberate use of the middle name he hated showed he’d truly pissed her off. “Can’t help it. You are beautiful.” True statement, and buttering her up wouldn’t hurt anything.
She tapped long nails on the table. “You’re paying for another spa week for me, and you know I won’t have time for a while because you keep getting into trouble. So you’re buying me a new car for this.”
“All right.”
“I want a Porsche 458 Spyder,” she purred.
His wallet took the hit and vibrated. “Done.”
The woman had just as much money as he did, yet she hated to spend it.
“Now get me out of this,” he said.
“Of course,” she said smoothly. Her main job was as a council member on the Coven Nine, the ruling body for the entire witch species, but she’d multi-tasked through the years. She’d attended law school for fun years ago, and they’d made use of her knowledge more than once during the many years she’d spent in the United States. “Then I’d like to go home.”
“Seattle is home now, sweetheart.” He’d never understand why she preferred New York over the west coast. Too many humans in the cities in the east.
She sighed and then glanced at the face of her phone. “Interesting. Your Detective Monzelle became a cop because her daddy was a drug dealer who was arrested when she was a little girl. He’s still incarcerated.”
Kell’s chest heated. “You ordered a background check on Alexandra?”
“Of course, and these are just the highlights. Alexandra has a younger sister who’s, ah, in a band?” Simone pursed her lips.
The door opened, and Alexandra strode inside, followed by a middle-aged detective wearing a hang-dog expression. Kellach swept his gaze over Alexandra. Black flats, pressed black pants, crisp white shirt, badge and gun at her waist. Her blond hair reached her shoulders, barely, and her blue eyes glimmered with intelligence. She was too fragile to be a garda, and he wondered if there were males in her family other than her incarcerated father, and if so why they were failing to protect her. No wonder she was a crusader. The slight bruise on her cheekbone still pissed Kell off.
She slapped a file on the table and sat as her partner took the other chair. “I’m Detective Monzelle, and this is Detective Phillips.”
Simone nodded, setting down her phone. “Simone Brightston, counsel for Mr. Dunne.”
“You clean up nice, Alexandra,” Kellach drawled, fighting the absurd need to protect her.
A pretty pink climbed into her face, while her gaze focused directly on Kell. “Do you understand the rights as they’ve been read to you?”
“I do,” he murmured.