To Dance With the Devil (Blood Singer #6)

To Dance With the Devil (Blood Singer #6) Page 15

“I’ll be happy to.”

As she left, Bruno came in. He kissed me gently and told me how glad he was that I was awake and that I was going to be okay. I really wanted to talk with him, but I was worn out. Just the small effort of dealing with the sketch artist had completely exhausted me, and while Bruno was still saying loving things, I fell asleep.

When I woke again, I was in a regular hospital room with pale yellow walls and an actual window. Every flat surface was covered with lots and lots of flowers and plants. I was no longer restrained, thank God, but a security camera was mounted on the wall so they could keep track of me. Still, no restraints, woot. I could tell it was morning from the angle of the light and the smell of breakfast, which mingled with the floral scents that filled the room. Glancing around, I spotted what had to be the breakfast tray on the rolling cart near my bed. I was wondering how it had gotten there without anyone waking me when I heard the sound of familiar footsteps outside my door.

I could tell it was John Creede from the scent of his favorite cologne, not to mention the warmth of his magic as he tested the wards on the door before opening it.

When he came in he looked … controlled, everything held carefully in check, his handsome face nothing more than a pleasant mask. He wore an expensive business suit that spoke eloquently of Isaac’s custom tailoring. I was willing to bet he was carrying plenty of weapons, hospital regulations be damned.

“John!” I didn’t bother to keep the surprise and delight from my voice. Our breakup a few months ago had been more than a little bit bitter, but I’d missed him. I don’t regret choosing Bruno, but I’ll always care about John.

“Celia, you’re up … and looking quite a lot better.”

Oh, shit. Gran had said he’d been here, but I hadn’t really thought about him having seen me like that. Damn it, damn it, damn it.

He must have sensed how stricken I was, because he sat down and started talking. His first question wasn’t a question at all. It was more an order. “Tell me exactly what happened.”

I told him. As I did, I could feel his anger building, filling the room like water fills a cup. Interestingly, while Bruno’s rage is scalding hot, John’s is icy. Still deadly, but different. Then again, they’re very different men.

“John…” I paused, struggling to find the right words. “I’m sorry about Mexico.” I wasn’t sorry I’d fired him. He’d undermined me with the clients—which was totally unacceptable—and doubted my capabilities, which was hurtful as hell. But I could have handled it better, and I was damned sorry about some of the hateful things I’d said during our big fight.

He gave me a rueful grin and took my hand in his. “No. I’m sorry. I was out of line.” He sighed. “I’m not used to being second banana. I’m not very good at it.” His eyes met mine, his expression dead serious. “When I learned you’d missed the last flight out…” He didn’t finish the sentence. He didn’t have to. He’d been sure they’d killed me.

I wasn’t insulted by that. My trip into the tunnels had been a last-ditch escape plan with maybe a five percent chance of success—success being survival. I’d made it out, with the last of the MagnaChem employees I’d gone down there to rescue. But it hadn’t been easy or pretty, and the two people who’d been escorting us had died.

I was saved an answer by the sound of whispered voices arguing outside my door. My expression must have shown that I was listening to something, because John gave me a questioning look. My vampire hearing had given me advance notice.

“Company’s coming,” I said with a smile. “Dawna and Chris.”

They were still in the hall, but I could hear every word. I held up a finger to stop John talking and eavesdropped shamelessly.

“You’re being ridiculous, Chris,” Dawna hissed.

His voice rose in both volume and pitch. “Ridiculous? Seriously? She nearly died. She could’ve been permanently maimed—would’ve been, if it weren’t for those stupid gulls of hers. And she’s supernatural. You’re not. These people are playing for keeps.”

Dawna was firm, her voice steady and calm. I knew her well enough to know that Chris was on dangerous ground. When she’s irritated, Dawna will raise her voice and argue. When she gets quiet and calm, she’s seriously angry. “I’m just going to be working in the office, sitting behind a computer and doing a few meetings. There’s nothing dangerous about that.”

“Her last office—your last office—was blown up, remember? No, I want you out of it. It’s much too dangerous.”

“No.”

“No?” He kept his voice quiet, but his whisper was the equivalent of a shout.

“No,” Dawna repeated. Then she turned the knob and opened the door, effectively ending the conversation. “John, you’re here!”

“Just leaving,” he said. He gave my hand a squeeze and rose. “I’m glad you’re doing so much better, Graves.” His voice was gruff. Then, to my exasperation, he ruined the moment by saying, “Try to stay out of trouble.”

He was out the door before I could give the answer I thought he deserved.

Dawna took John’s place beside the bed. She was smiling broadly enough to light up the room, the tension of her argument with Chris vanished as if nothing had happened. She’s a great actress. I knew she was glad to see me and thrilled I was better. She was also probably glad to see that John and I were speaking again. She’s a definite Creede fan.

Her problems with Chris were real and painful, but if she didn’t want to share them, it wasn’t my place to push. I had no clue what to say anyway.

She sank into the chair as Chris sullenly clunked a floral arrangement in with the others on the windowsill. He turned to me. “Glad you pulled through, Graves. I need some coffee. Either of you want anything from the cafeteria?” His voice was gruff and his face was flushed, but at least he was trying to be polite.

“I’d love a can of Pepsi. They won’t bring me one before lunch no matter how nicely I ask.” I knew that from my last visit. I smiled at him.

“That’s ’cause it’s bad for you.” He snorted. “All right, one Pepsi coming up. Dawna?”

“Get me a Dr Pepper, please?”

“No problem.” He leaned down to kiss her forehead. “Back in a few.”

She sighed as the door closed behind him, her expression an odd mixture of frustration, anger, and deep sadness.

“You okay?” I asked.

She sighed again. “Not really. But I don’t want to talk about it. Where’s Bruno? He’s practically been camped out here.”

“I’m pretty sure he went home to shower and shave.”

“Makes sense. He probably also has to arrange to have El Jefe cover a couple more of his classes.”

“Warren’s covering for him?”

“Yup, and Dr. Sloan and some of the others. Bruno said there were plenty of volunteers when everybody in the department heard what had happened.”

That was so nice. “When did you talk to Bruno?”

“Oh, one of the times I came to visit. They wouldn’t let anyone actually in to see you, but a lot of us came by anyway, to check on you. The desk nurse was talking about how many friends you have.”

Aw, that made me feel so good. Not good enough to want to stay and soak up sympathy, but good. “Anybody give you a clue how soon I can get out of here?” I asked.

“Nope. Sorry.”

“Damn it.”

“Relax, Celie,” Dawna ordered. “You need to heal. I can take care of the work stuff. Your gran and Bruno will take care of the rest.”

“Speaking of work, did you get a chance to check out your cousin?”

“Talia.” She supplied the name for me and nodded. “Everything I could find checked out. She could be a real asset.”

There was something in her tone of voice …

“But?”

“I just can’t get past that whole thing when we were kids. I know it’s stupid—”

I shook my head. “No, it’s not. People are who they are. They can change … but only if they’re willing to work at it and they really want to.” I firmly believed that, which was why I had so little hope for my mother. She didn’t want to change and she was practically allergic to hard work.

I shoved that thought away, focusing on the problem at hand. “Okay,” I suggested, “what if we hire her on a probationary basis, the same as we’re doing with Kevin? If she doesn’t work out, I’ll fire her. You can tell your family it’s all my fault, so you won’t get in hot water with them. I can take the heat.”

“You’d do that?”

“Sure.” I gave her a so-sweet-it’ll-rot-your-teeth grin.

“What?” she asked, rightfully suspicious.

“But you get the honors if we have to fire Kevin.”

“Oh … oh, hell.”

“Agreed?”

She gave me a sour look, but agreed.

We chatted for quite a while. I took a look at the breakfast tray and sighed. Liquids. Not even thick liquids. No baby food. I drank it, but I wasn’t thrilled. Still, by the time Chris returned, Dawna was in a great mood, laughing and telling me stories about office spaces she’d looked at and some of the new applicants, whose résumés were completely not what we needed on staff. We agreed that if we hadn’t found the “perfect” office in another month, we’d rent something on an interim basis. Not having an official place of business was getting old.

Chris had put the time away from us to good use as well. He wasn’t nearly as surly as he’d been when he’d left to get the drinks. Still, they didn’t stay long after he came back.

As the door closed behind them, I wondered if they’d be able to work through their problems. I hoped so. But I wouldn’t put money on it.