Rest For The Wicked(5)

Claire jerked herself out of the vision, gripped the counter. Those gold laced eyes studied her, every inch of him unaffected. Then he closed his eyes for a moment, and the pain, the grief she felt in the vision flared across his face.

The moment passed, and his attention returned to Annie, who chatted and laughed, not aware of the light, the power that surrounded him. Claire pushed off the counter, determined to get him out before Annie attached herself to him. She would find out later just what the hell a Jinn was doing in her town.

“Annie.” Her friend stared up at the Jinn, mesmerized. “Annie.”

Jerking around, she looked dazed. “What—” The bell over the door rang, and Annie swung toward the sound, frowning at the empty doorway. “Where did he—what was I just—Claire?”

“It’s all right, Annie.” Claire moved to the front window, and spotted him, opening the driver’s door of a sleek black Jaguar parked across the street from her shop. He met her gaze, then slid in and slammed the car door.

Annie was staring at Claire when she turned away from the window. “I was—just talking to someone, right? I know I was talking to—a man—”

“Help me pretty up these pendants.” Rolling up the sleeves of her blouse, Claire moved around the counter, pulling out the fancy moon and stars paper, along with a handful of jewelry boxes. “Come on—I don’t want to keep my best customers waiting.”

The giggles made her smile—and distracted Annie. They wrapped each pendant, adding a waterfall of curling ribbon. Claire presented the gift to its new owner with a flourish. After the last of them left the shop, Annie asked the question Claire had been waiting on.

“Who the hell was that man?”

“Did he tell you his name?” Claire cleaned up the wrapping mess, using it as a way to stall.

“I don’t remember a single word. Just the way he looked at—you.” Her head snapped around, brown eyes narrowed. “He talked to me, but he wanted to be talking to you.” She rubbed her forehead. “Why can’t I remember what he looks like? I barely remember talking to him—”

“Don’t worry, Annie.” Claire touched her shoulder, and did what she hated most. She manipulated Annie’s memory. “Go on—enjoy the rest of the festival. I’ll meet you tonight over at Billie’s.”

Annie’s eyes glazed over—then she smiled, her bouncy self again.

“Okey dokey. Sit down for a while, Claire. You look wiped. I’ll see you tonight!”

Claire waited until the door closed, then sank to the chair, her head pounding. What she did took more out of her than it should have, and the sudden, debilitating pain scared her.

She could cover, for a while. With some crystal healing, energy smoothies from the juice bar down the street, more sleep. But part of her knew, had known for a while, that her time here was ending.

Claire pushed herself up and reached for the amethyst sitting next to her computer. The moment her fingers closed over the smooth oval stone, heat radiated up her arm. The headache eased, enough for her to think about going out. She decided to have one of those energy shakes now; it would keep her going until after she met up with Annie at Billie’s Pub.

Slipping the amethyst in the front pocket of her pants, she made a mental note to start wearing her amethyst pendant. It would help boost her energy a bit, if nothing else. She pulled open the shop door—and ran straight into the Jinn.



*



Eric slammed down his fifth shot of whiskey. His throat burned, his stomach felt raw, and the grief still tore at him. So he ordered another shot and dug down for the rage.

It came to the surface easier now, with all the whiskey running through his system. But it didn’t, it couldn’t, shut down that last image of Katelyn—

“Hi, Billie. One of the usual, por favor.” Eric lifted his head at the voice, met the eyes of the tall, perky blonde standing next to him. And pain bored through his skull. “Whoa—I’ve got you. Easy now, handsome. Just hang on to me if you need to.”

Her touch ignited fire in his veins. Eric yanked out of her grip and stumbled away from her. She radiated life. And her light seared through the darkness clutching his soul like a flaming torch.

He shoved his way past the people staring at him. Cold air slapped him as he hit the sidewalk. It didn’t quench the fire. And the source followed him.

“Are you okay?” Her gentle hands burned when they touched him. The part of his mind not screaming to kill her understood why. She was goodness, purity. All he had inside him was the hate, the rage, the grief that forced him to move forward. “Sit down, right here’s fine. Nice, solid sidewalk.”