Kevin shrugged. “Who knows? I took more video of Ms. Marinelli tonight, so I’ll see if they show up again.” He closed the lid and snapped it shut. “When is your next tour?”
“Sunday,” I answered before I thought to lie.
“Good. I’ll be here.”
“And we’ll come back to help you,” Caro said, tucking a hand into Kevin’s arm.
Leah nodded and claimed Kevin’s other side. “Right. That is, if it’s okay with you, Kevvy.”
Kevvy?
Okay, I was outta there. Even a down and dirty talk with Saber about Triton and the land trust beat listening to that syrup.
The main drag of San Marco Avenue was light on traffic. I was halfway home but dawdled at a lit shop window to look at a display of blown glass bowls. I don’t know what made me turn, but Pandora, in her huge house cat form, came out of nowhere at a dead run and threw herself on my chest.
I staggered back, heard a thwit, and then the sound of shattering glass. A beat later, an alarm went off. Behind the building, Pandora said in my head.
When I didn’t move immediately, she nipped me.
Run.
I stumbled once, then used vamp speed. When I reached the back of the building, I stopped, pressed my back into the nubby surface of a brick wall, and wondered what the hell was happening. Another sniper? The sound I’d heard was different from the gunshots of the other night, but I was no expert. I was the only person I knew who didn’t own a gun. The first police sirens wailed as Pandora trotted around the corner of the building. Follow me, she commanded and headed behind another building to come out on a street behind San Marco. She didn’t morph into panther size, I guess so as not to scare the bejeebers out of anyone who happened to see us. Of course, her house cat size was as big as a bobcat. That was intimidating enough.
“What happened back there?” I asked in a whisper as we hurried along the shadowed streets. The man with the scarred face shot an arrow at you.
“Gorman?”
Pandora glanced over her shoulder as if to say Duh.
“He’s never pulled so much as a pop gun on me. Why try to kill me now?”
Pandora shook her head. This I do not know, but you must tell your man.
Oh goody. Another thing for Saber to feel good about.
Pandora stopped so fast, I nearly plowed into her haunches.
You will tell your man, she said, her amber eyes narrowing on me. There are dangers enough, and you must eliminate those threats you can.
She was saying more than the words I heard in my head. I knew it, but I was tired of the coded messages.
“Are you talking about whatever Triton is hiding from?”
You will learn what you need to know in due time.
She cocked her head toward the bay and twitched her ears, then paced off again.
We reached Maggie’s front yard just as Saber stormed through the gate. He checked his steps, looked hard at Pandora, then settled his gaze on me.
“I heard the sirens. What happened?”
“Gorman shot an arrow at me but broke a shop window.”
Saber clenched his fists. “Pandora saved you?”
“She knocked me out of the way.”
Saber nodded at her. “Good work. Get her in the house and stand guard until I get back.”
Pandora trotted toward the cottage. I stepped closer to Saber.
“Get back from where? You’re not going after Gorman.”
“No. I’m calling the cops from a pay phone to give them an anonymous tip that Gorman broke the window. Any more questions?”
I bit my lip. “Can I have a hug before you go?”
“God, yes.”
He grabbed me fast and hard in a hug that threatened to pop the stuffing out of me, but I clung to him just as tightly. I was about to tell him to forget the call and take me inside—take me, period—when Pandora gave a throaty chuff. Saber eased me away and touched his forehead to mine.
“I’ll be gone ten minutes, and I want to slip into something more comfortable when I get back.”
“S-slip into what?”
“You.”
FOURTEEN
017
Saber cupped the back of my head, pressed a scorching kiss to my mouth, then let me go and sprinted to his car.
“Ten minutes,” he called softly.
I took off for my cottage, my keys in one hand, working the buttons of my costume with the other. My blouse was open before I hit the door.
Lock it, Pandora said from her perch on the tiki bar.
I nodded. “Thanks, Pandora. Later.”
Eight minutes.
I tossed my clothes off on the way through the living room to the bathroom. I didn’t care where they landed. I needed a shower. I was sick of being shot at and ticked at being in the middle of Triton’s skullduggery. I wanted my calm, normal afterlife back, damn it. And I wanted Saber.
I flipped the shower on hot, squashed my hair into a shower cap, and stepped under the pulsating spray. Five minutes.
Creamy body wash. Coconut scent. I inhaled the aroma as I spread the slick liquid on my shoulders, down my arms, over my aching breasts and the quivering muscles of my belly. The last vestiges of fear swirled down the drain. Two minutes.