Demon Song (Blood Singer #3)

Demon Song (Blood Singer #3) Page 55

“Christmas is a time for forgiveness. At least that’s what they tell me.” I forced myself to smile. I might never completely get over the betrayal by Warren and Kevin, but I’d try. For Emma. And for the past we’d all shared.

“Wow. A lot of people showed up!” Her smile grew broader as Gran gave her a peck on the cheek.

Finally Emma reached the couch and sat down. “I wish I didn’t get tired so fast.” She sighed. “It’s the meds. They keep me calm, but they make me sleepy.”

Dawna patted her hand. “You’re getting around. That’s what counts. We’re in no hurry today, girlfriend. It’s a day to take it easy.” She looked at the tree and then dropped to her knees in front of it. I took in her red and white velour pantsuit and wondered if Dottie was having a bad influence on her. But I had to admit the pantsuit was stunning. It made Dawna look like a very tanned and fit Mrs. Claus.

“Wow. You must have had more presents delivered. I didn’t see these yesterday.” She picked the one out of my hand before I could stop her and opened the card. “Ooh! ‘Merry Christmas, Ceil. Love, John.’ ”

I raised my brows at her teasing. “You can see full well that all he wrote was ‘Ceil’ and ‘John.’ The other words are preprinted.”

She refused to be denied and gave me her pretty pout. “He picked out the card.”

I shook my head. “Doubtful. It’s wrapped too well. Does that look like a guy wrapped it? That’s a mall wrapping.”

She started to shake it and I winced, leaping forward to take it away from her and put it carefully under the tree. “He gives things that explode, Dawna. I don’t want Santa to find you up on the roof.”

The girl must have some sort of radar, because next she pulled Bruno’s. “They were both here and I missed them? That would have been something to watch.” She eyed the box critically. “Now, I know Bruno wrapped this himself. Why do men use eight times more tape than necessary?”

I took that box away as well and moved it far from her. He had also been known to give things that go boom.

Bless ’em both.

“Ooh!” Dawna said when she spotted the one I thought I’d hidden behind the bookcase. Damn, she’s got a good eye. It was a small bag filled with fluff. “ ‘MC, Gaetano.’ New player, ladies!” She looked at me and then skeptically at the bag. “Also kablooie?”

I shrugged, because I honestly didn’t know. “He’s a doctor—or at least a medic. I’m thinking not. But he’s also a soldier.”

She handed it to me and leaned forward to whisper, “Go on, then. Open it. First one is always the guest’s pick.” Well … I was sort of curious and I could always put it right back in the bag.

I was frankly a little nervous about opening Gaetano’s gift. Surely he wouldn’t make it too personal. Would he? We still hadn’t even gone out on a date. The last I’d seen him was when he was pulling chunks of melted artifacts from my legs and chest.

I dug to the bottom of the bag and extracted a small, unwrapped box. I let out a little sigh of relief and actually brightened. “Cool!” I held up the box of emergency first-aid charm disks. “Look—two for broken legs and three for cuts up to an inch deep.”

Dawna and Emma wisely didn’t say a word at my exuberance. Only Gran was willing to comment: “That was very … thoughtful. Try not to need them, dear.”

I put the box back in the bag and the bag back under the tree. As much as I wanted to open them and read the instructions, that would be rude. Gran patted my hand. “I need to get back to cooking. When you have a minute, maybe you could make up some ranch dressing for the salad?”

I nodded. “In a second, Gran. I promise.” I leaned back against the chair and let the white noise settle over me. The cop contingent had gathered into a group around Alex and were talking shop. The Murphys were chatting with Adriana, Okalani, and Laka—who had apparently just popped in, because they hadn’t been here moments ago. Dawna touched my hand and I looked over at her wearily.

“So … while everybody’s busy, tell us about the boys. Is Bruno moving back?”

I nodded and smiled. “It’ll be a few months, I think. He doesn’t have a job yet, but I get the impression Creede wants to talk to him. They decided to ride to the airport together. I don’t know what I think of that.” Granted, they had worked together really well at the rift, but I could see a lot of potential problems, given their personalities.

“Speaking of Creede, how did the big lunch date go last week?”

I rolled my eyes. “He showed up at ten o’clock.”

Emma let out a disgusted sound. “I hate it when guys do that. Your hair’s in curlers and you probably just stepped out of the shower, huh?”

“Ten p.m.,” I corrected.

Now their jaws dropped, which was exactly what mine had done. “Yeah. For a lunch date.” I’d been beyond livid. “It was the third time in a row, and frankly, I let him have it.”

“Damn straight, girl. Although, really … it was only the second. You canceled once.”

Okay, fair point. But I raised a finger. “I did text him to let him know the client’s game had gone into overtime. He didn’t even go that far.”

Both girls rolled their eyes and let out an exasperated breath on my behalf. “So what was the excuse?”

I shrugged. “Same as last time. He got busy. But I will admit he made up for it.” I paused and glanced up to make sure Gran was still in the kitchen. Then I lowered my voice and leaned in toward them. “Moonlight cruise on his sailboat to San Diego and a four-course dinner in a private room at the Silver House Restaurant.” I blew on my hand and then made polishing movements on the front of my sweater. They reacted like I thought they would.

“Damn. There’s like a yearlong waiting list for even a regular reservation there.” Dawna let out a slow breath. “It wins points, but does it win ten hours late of points?”

“No. But the back rub on the boat did.” Oh my, had it won points because my back wasn’t the only thing he’d rubbed. “But we’re taking it slow. I think both of us are a little wary of each other right just now.”

Dawna started to respond, but my head turned at the sound of a loud knock on the door. Had I missed another bell? I touched her hand. “Hold that thought.”

I waved at Adriana, who was motioning me over. I pointed at the door and held up a hand. I did need to talk to her about some stuff, but I was still playing hostess.

“Merry Christm—” I swung open the door and my voice died in my throat. I recovered after a few seconds, but it was awkward. “Rizzoli? Um … Merry Christmas.”

He wasn’t on my invite list, and frankly, he looked like he’d just woken up. His voice was flat and without inflection: “Merry Christmas, Graves. Grab your badge. We have to go.”

Badge? Go? Um … Maybe if I tried again, this time with a smile. I put on my best client smile and cocked my head a little. “Let’s try that again. Merry Christmas, Rizzoli. Do you want to come in for a leisurely cup of coffee and a chat? Lots of cops here to talk shop with.”

He let out a frustrated sound and slammed his fists down in the pockets of his trench coat. “No, what I want to do is to go back home and sit in the living room with my family, opening gifts. I was up until midnight assembling my son’s first two-wheeler and had sort of hoped to see whether he liked it. But instead, I’m here and my wife is pissed beyond belief. So, if you’ll just get your badge we can get this over with and both get back to our respective celebrations.” He finally looked me up and down, as though assessing me. “What you have on is fine for this.” He said it like it wouldn’t be fine for other things.

What the hell?

“In case nobody gave you the memo, Rizzoli, I don’t work for you.”

One hand came out of the pocket and he leaned heavily on the side of my house. He looked inside, noticed all the local cops—some in and some out of uniform—and lowered his voice to a dangerous whisper: “Let me explain something, Graves. The notoriety you got for saving the world was both a good thing and a bad one—for you. You’re seen as a threat to certain elements in the government. I’ve been keeping the heat off you and you haven’t even known about it. But I’m getting ridden like a pony at a kiddie party. Now, I can either stop doing it or keep doing it. Which would you prefer?”

Oh. I was liking the no media and no investigations. I’d been sort of wondering why things had been so quiet. “It’s that important? To call you out on a holiday?”

“If they’re not lying to me, you’ll want to save snapshots of the rift in your scrapbook as your last happy memory.” He paused. “Did I mention it’s at double your regular rate? It should only take a half hour or so.”

Well, the month wasn’t over and I did have bills to pay. The party probably wouldn’t miss me for a few minutes. I held open the door. “C’mon in for a second. My badge is upstairs.” He came in but stayed carefully on the tiled entry. I bolted up the stairs as Dawna called out behind me, “What’s going on, Celia?”

I grabbed the badge from the top of my jewelry box and picked up my duffel. No sense going anywhere unarmed. I headed down the stairs but made a sharp right turn before I reached the door. “We don’t have time for good-byes, Celia,” Rizzoli snapped as I moved away from him.

Dawna’s expression was somewhere between surprised and angry. “Where are you going?”

I shrugged. “The usual. Bad people want to hurt good people and Rizzoli wants me to throw myself into the line of fire.”

She got up and walked to the door, putting her face right into his. “It’s Christmas, Mr. Federal Agent. See all the people? We’re having good cheer and high spirits.”