Rest For The Wicked(11)
“I am still trying to understand what led me here, Claire. The only clear answer I get is you. So, no, I will not stay away from Annie. I will, however, keep from engaging her in any way. Is that satisfactory?”
Oh, yes—here was the Jinn she remembered. Stubborn and charming at the same time. A lethal combination, for most women. Claire was not most women. But even she couldn’t fight straight up stubborn; not when it came in a six foot plus package wrapped in power, however diminished.
“I’m not getting rid of you, am I?”
“Claire.” Marcus stood, laid both hands on her shoulders. She tensed, but he simply looked down at her, no manipulation. “I will not let another person come to harm. Not when I can prevent it. And there is something coming at you, something I can’t yet see clearly. Until I can, you are staying in my line of sight.”
With a sigh, she eased out of his grasp.
“Fine. But you’re going to be doing it from a distance—or not all,” she added when he opened his mouth to protest. “That’s my final offer.”
“Acceptable.”
“Good.” She crossed her arms, a smile tugging at her lips. “Because it’s the only one you get. Are you okay to get home? I’m assuming you have a place to stay here.”
“Yes, to both questions. Thank you for your concern, witch.” Before she had the chance to avoid it, Marcus kissed her forehead. He left an imprint of heat behind, reminding her just how chilled she felt. He must have felt it as well—he frowned down at her, laid one hand against her cheek. “You need to turn up the heat, or that chill may turn on you.”
“Good night, Jinn.”
He smiled at her petulant tone. “And a good night to you, Claire.”
She closed the door behind him, flipped the deadbolt, and clutched the latch when another explosion of pain ripped through her.
Her legs buckled and she lost her grip on the latch, crumpling to the floor. A fist pounding on the door above her intensified the agony.
“Claire! Let me in—damn it, you already locked the door. Claire—”
“I’m—okay.” She managed to make her voice sound close to normal. “Go away, Marcus.”
“Claire.” His sand rough voice slipped through the crack between door and sill, right next to her. “Next time I will not walk away.”
She waited until she heard his footsteps fade, then doubled over, riding out the knife-sharp pain.
When she could breathe without wanting to throw up from the effort, she pulled herself up, and inched along the wall until she reached the comfort of her bed.
FIVE
Annie stomped into the shop just moments after Claire unlocked the door.
“I hope your night ended better than mine.” She plopped her oversized leather purse on the floor next to her, slumped against the counter, poked at the crystals Claire had been sorting. “Because mine sucked. The worst part is, I don’t remember why.”
Thank you, Marcus. Claire patted her hand, then gently lifted it off the crystals that Annie absently arranged in a heart.
“Maybe it’s better that you didn’t, if it ended on such a sour note.”
“Yeah.” She stared at the counter. “It would have been fun, except you bailed on me.”
“I’m sorry for that, Annie. I just wasn’t feeling up to more crowds; not after spending the day in the shop surrounded by them. I’ll make it up on Sunday night, I promise. I’ll buy.”
That perked her up. “All night?”
Claire smiled. “You got it. So, no classes today?”
Annie shrugged, fiddling with the crystals again.
“Melissa figured no one would want to take a full yoga class during the festival. Her highness didn’t even want to listen to my idea for demos, or yoga snacks—”
“Which I thought was a fun way to bring people in.”
Annie smiled.
“Thanks. So did I—until she shot it down. I need to find another studio, before I end up incarcerated for strangling her.”
Laughing, Claire gave up on sorting the crystals and came around the counter to give Annie a hug.
“I have some friends I can call. The studio won’t be in walking distance, but they would be happy to have such a skilled instructor.”
“Are you kidding me? That would be fantastic!”
Annie started to dance around the shop, her tiered skirt flaring out as she whirled past. Her enthusiasm was infectious—several customers who came in smiled at her, and one little girl joined in, her laughter ringing in the air.
Claire leaned against the counter and simply enjoyed. She lived for days like this—when sheer happiness outshined everything else, and the air sparkled with it.