Читать книгу A Risky Proposition, Book 1 of The Third Wish Duology - Dawn Addonizio - Страница 10

“Mmm…peppermint mocha,” I sighed, inhaling the minty, chocolaty, caffeine-packed wonder. I wasn’t usually one to jump on the corporate bandwagon, but Starbucks made a damn good coffee drink.

Sunny grinned at me from the passenger seat of my station wagon. She was on her third dose of the black jet fuel she drank, the first two cups at my penthouse having barely brought her out of her morning coma. Now we were both riding the high from the caffeine, and the sugar rush from cinnamon rolls drenched in gooey cream-cheese icing.

“I’m not sure how long this visit’s going to last—Rachel sounded exhausted on the phone,” Sunny commented between sips.

“Well, she did just pass a ten pound human being through her body. I’d be exhausted too.”

“I’m never having kids,” Sunny stated with an adamant head shake.

I chuckled, ignoring the twinge of sadness I felt. Jeremy and I hadn’t been sure if we were ready for kids either, but we’d been thinking about it.

Best to put that out of my mind—along with the message from him I’d retrieved earlier that morning, quietly asking for me to come home, or at least meet with him to talk.

I’d been returning his calls so he wouldn’t worry, but only when I knew he was at work. The cheerful “Hi! You’ve reached Sydney and Jeremy!” on the voicemail was a real kick in the ass, but it was better than the inevitable sob-fest that I knew talking to him would bring.

Maybe it was juvenile, but as far as I was concerned, there was no excuse for what he’d done, and nothing left to say.

I turned into the parking lot for the hospital, commencing a slow drive through one of the parking rows near the entrance.

“Looks pretty full,” Sunny observed.

“Yeah, but if I can find a space here we won’t have to hoof it from B.F.E. in this ninety degree heat. One more pass-through—maybe someone will be leaving.”

“You realize no one says ‘B.F.E.’ anymore,” Sunny informed me in a dry tone. “Oh wait—there’s a guy!” She pointed to a man getting into a white pick-up truck.

I sped up and made the U-Turn into his row, putting on my blinker to signal my intention to park there. A split second later, a surly looking woman in a dark blue sedan pulled up facing me and put her blinker on for the same spot.

“Beeyatch,” Sunny exhaled in annoyance.

The man in the truck began pulling out with his rear bumper angled toward me, giving surly-blue-car-woman the first shot at my space. I resigned myself to giving up gracefully, but just as she moved forward, her engine sputtered and her car shuddered to a halt.

Sunny let out a burst of surprised laughter as I whipped my wagon into the parking space. I spared a ‘you win some, you lose some’ sort of shrug for blue-car-woman as we got out and walked toward the hospital entrance. She glared at me over the painful noise of her starter grinding.

“Poor thing,” Sunny said with mock sympathy.

The faint tinkle of faerie laughter rang in my ears.

“I guess they just don’t make enough good parking spaces for everyone to have a faerie guardian,” I smirked.

We stopped at the front desk to sign the log and get our ‘Visitor’ stickers, and then headed up in the elevator to the maternity wing. I wrinkled my nose at the antiseptic odor in the hallways as we followed the room number signs that mapped our way to Rachel.

When we found the right number, we peeked our heads through the doorway of a small, private room with a hospital bed for Mom and a corner fold-away cot for Dad. An infant’s Plexiglas crib on wheels rested in a pool of sunshine beneath the window, but the baby was in Rachel’s arms.

“Rachel!” Sunny whispered excitedly as she moved forward and made room for her greeting card and gift on the bedside table. Rachel didn’t seem to notice any of it as she gazed down at her daughter.

“Meet Molly,” she said with a radiant smile, tucking down a soft white blanket to give us an unobstructed view.

Rachel’s husband, Brian, greeted us with a, “Hi guys, thanks for coming.” He looked dazed but happy.

Lorien appeared just above my shoulder and I jerked my head in surprise. “Ooh, she’s so cute…I love babies! How could anyone resist that pinched, purple wittle face?” she cooed in a sugary falsetto.

I did an admirable job of schooling my expression, but Sunny made a choking sound that almost ruined my efforts. Rachel and her husband beamed at Sunny, and she recovered quickly with a heartfelt, “She’s precious!”

“She’s beautiful,” I agreed.

We fussed over Molly for a while, Sunny and I doing our best to ignore Lorien as she flitted around making fawning noises. I could have sworn that the baby was cooing back at her. But when Sunny and Rachel started in on the family gossip, I decided to give them some time alone to catch up.

“I think I’ll go for a walk and maybe browse around the gift shop. Can I get anybody anything?” I offered as I stood.

They all declined and I stepped out into the hall with Lorien alighting on my shoulder to accompany me. “I don’t suppose you know where the gift shop is?” I whispered as we reached the elevator.

“Try the second floor,” she suggested.

I smiled at a cute male nurse in black scrubs as I stepped on and we rode down in silence. I stepped off and waited for the doors to close before muttering “Now where?”

“Go to the end of this hallway, then take a right,” Lorien answered promptly.

I made my way down the corridor and glanced around before speaking again. “So, you really have a thing for babies, huh?” I whispered.

“What are you whispering for?” Lorien asked with a smirk.

“Because people who roam hospitals talking to themselves usually end up in the psych ward,” I griped, snapping my mouth shut to smile at an elderly woman as she tottered out of the doorway in front of me wearing a paper-thin hospital gown. The nurse at her elbow gave me an odd look.

I glared at Lorien and she smothered a laugh.

“Hilarious,” I whispered. “I’m glad you get such a kick out of making me look like a lunatic. And do you have any idea how hard it was to pretend you weren’t darting around making goo goo eyes at Molly up there? If Rachel and Brian hadn’t been so preoccupied with the baby, they would have thought Sunny and I were both nuts.”

“You need to relax and worry a little less about what other people are thinking, Sydney,” Lorien pronounced. “Besides, who can resist making ‘goo goo eyes’ at babies? They’re so sweet and guileless with their little newly aligned souls. They’re beings of pure love, and that’s a rare and special thing. It only lasts so long before the world teaches them differently.”

I pondered that depressing thought as I trudged to the end of the hallway and hit a dead end. I frowned. “There’s no right at the end of this hall. It’s a patient’s room. Lorien?” I looked around for her, but she had disappeared.

I sighed, wondering if I’d done something to drive her away.

My eyes settled on the occupant of the room to my right. A woman lay pale and unconscious in the bed, lifeless but for the machine that was forcing breath into her body. She had long, light brown hair, much like mine, and similar features as well. I took an involuntary step forward, but froze when the light clicked off in the bathroom and a man crossed the scratched tile floor to stand at her side.

He bent over her, his black t-shirt stretching across well-defined shoulder and back muscles. He wore faded jeans and his tanned arms were covered in tattoos of runes and Celtic symbols. His startlingly blue eyes expressed surprise as he glanced up to find me staring at him.

“Sydney?” he asked as he straightened, his voice rough beneath his thick Irish brogue.

“Agent Sparrow?” I croaked, shock, and something warmer, traveling across my nerve endings at the sight of him. He’d starred in a few of my more explicit fantasies over the past week, but seeing him here was the last thing I’d expected.

“Do you know her?” he asked softly, indicating the girl in the bed.

“No. I…I’m visiting someone else,” I sputtered.

“What are you doing here then?” he asked, his cobalt eyes narrowing in a mixture of confusion and suspicion.

“Lorien said…I mean my friend said…I was looking for the gift shop,” I finally managed, cringing at how awkward I sounded.

A slow smile dawned across his face and my stomach quivered in response. “Lorien?” he queried, one dark eyebrow cocked in a knowing expression.

“You know Lorien?” I asked uncertainly.

“I’ve had the pleasure,” he said dryly.

“Oh. I wasn’t sure if you could see her,” I replied, and then winced at my stupidity. Of course he could see her. He was a half-faerie policeman who arrested death djinns.

He chuckled at my obvious discomfort. “How would you like to have a cup of coffee with me, Sydney?”

My pulse quickened. “Sure,” I answered, suppressing the urge to grin like an idiot. It was hospital coffee, for Goddess’ sake, it wasn’t like he’d asked me out on a date.

“Good. I have a feeling it was Lorien’s intention that you and I have a chat. Just let me finish up here.”

He reached out to gently place his hand on the unconscious woman’s head. He whispered a few words that had the sound of ritual, and then slowly removed his hand, his strong fingers brushing her brow in a regretful caress. The dim light reflected faintly off of something silver in his palm before it disappeared into his jeans pocket.

Then he left her side and exited the room, towering over me as he motioned me to join him. I fell into step beside him, inhaling his spicy, woodsy scent.

“Who is she,” I asked in a subdued tone, hoping she wasn’t his wife, or sister, or some other close relation.

Sparrow sighed. “I’m not sure. She was found unconscious by the side of the road about a week ago. She’s been in a coma ever since.”

A tension that I hadn’t known I held left my body at the discovery that he didn’t know her.

“What happened to her?” I asked as we stepped onto the elevator and began to descend.

“I think it’s quite probable that someone stole her soul.” Sparrow’s anger hung in the air as we stopped on the first floor and waited for the doors to open.

“But I thought that when a death djinn claimed a soul the person became an immortal slave,” I said in a low voice, hurrying to keep up with his long strides as we turned a corner to find the brightly lit cafeteria. “Why would she be in a coma?”

“I didn’t say it was a death djinn, nor did I suggest someone claimed her soul legally; I said it was probably stolen. There’s a difference.” I digested that as we moved down the empty buffet line, past some dry mashed potatoes, questionable looking meatloaf, and myriad small bowls filled with green Jell-o squares. He stopped at the drink station and filled a white ceramic mug with steaming hot coffee, which he then offered to me.

“No, thanks. I’ll just grab some iced tea.”

Sparrow paid the tired-looking cashier and we moved through the sterile, fluorescent space toward a quiet corner alcove. He pulled an ugly plastic chair away from a table adorned with a cheap vase of fake flowers, and held it out for me to sit. The chivalry of the gesture felt odd in the midst of the inelegant surroundings.

As soon as we were settled, I heard someone call my name. I looked up to find Mickey, of all people, heading straight for me in his gangly teenage stride. He’d abandoned the Goth thing completely and dyed his hair brown. “I knew we were destined to have coffee together…” he dropped into silence as he rounded the corner and saw that I wasn’t alone.

“Hi, Mickey. What are you doing here—is everyone okay?” I asked, ignoring the disappointed look that flashed across his face at the discovery of Sparrow’s presence.

“Um yeah, no, I’m just visiting a friend,” he fumbled, his eyes darting from Sparrow and back to me.

“Well, I hope your friend’s alright. Tell your Mom I said ‘hi’ and I’ll talk to her Monday, okay?”

“Alright, I guess I’ll catch you later.”

“Bye, Mickey.” I gave him a smile and a wave as he hurried away.

Mickey looked back once before he darted out a side exit into the hallway and Sparrow’s eyes followed him until he was gone.

“Who was that?”

“Oh, just my boss’ son,” I smirked. “I think he might have developed a crush on me. He’s seventeen. I’m sure he’ll get over it in a day or two.”

Sparrow raised a dark eyebrow and gave a noncommittal nod.

I tore open a pink packet of sweetener and carefully sprinkled half into my iced tea, stirring it with my straw as the questions I wanted to ask percolated in my mind.

“So, when you arrested Balthus, you’re saying it wasn’t for stealing that woman’s soul?”

Sparrow combed his fingers through his dark hair with a sigh of frustration, leaving it charmingly disheveled. “I shouldn’t be discussing the details of the case with you, Sydney. She is very much his type, though. I don’t know if you noticed, but she bears quite a bit of resemblance to you.”

I had noticed, and the idea that it could have been me lying in that hospital bed made my stomach lurch. “Lorien said he was arrested for having an illegal soul…unaligned, or whatever,” I replied in discomfort. “I just assumed it was hers.”

“Bloomin’ faeries,” he mumbled. “Incapable of discretion, every last one of them.”

I frowned at him. “I take it that means you’re the one who told Lorien about Balthus. You know she only told me because she’s trying to help with the whole death djinn thing. Besides, I thought you were half-faerie.”

“I’m half-sidhe; Lorien’s a sprite,” he corrected flatly. “And as it happens, I did tell that little loud-mouth why Balthus was arrested. In confidence. And only because she’s been a pint-sized pain in the ass about it all week.”

I smiled. “She can be very persistent.”

“That’s an understatement,” he muttered.

“She says she’s been researching death djinn contracts. And that there’s no record of anyone ever getting out of one,” I added with a grimace.

A look of regret passed across his handsome face. “I’m truly sorry, Sydney. I wish I could help you…”

My eyes widened at his choice of words and he stared at me for a moment before a slightly queasy look overtook him.

“See how easy it is to slip up?” I asked with a despairing laugh.

His tanned, symbol-entwined arm moved toward me, as if he wanted to touch me, but he pulled back at the last moment. Something within me strained toward him, disappointed that he’d changed his mind.

The silence went on for a beat too long and I cleared my throat. “What kind of tattoos are those?” I asked to fill the void.

He glanced down at his arms, flexing his muscles so that they shifted smoothly beneath his skin, giving the intricate designs a life of their own. “Ancient Celtic runes and symbols of power and protection. A gift from my sidhe kin, who’ve passed down the art from generation to generation.”

“Cool,” I breathed. “Can they really protect you when you’re in danger?”

“That they can—and have many a time,” he added with a grin that ignited sparks in his eyes and sent my heart into a quicker rhythm.

“What’s that one?” I asked, pointing to a particularly striking design high on his thick upper arm.

“Ah, that’s one of my first and one of my favorites,” he answered with a nostalgic smile as he pushed up the edge of his sleeve so that the inking was fully visible. “It’s quite a traditional design, and very powerful—it’s called an Aegishjalmur. It gives its bearer protection and irresistibility in battle.”

I think it’s giving you irresistibility in more than just battle, I thought.

“It’s beautiful,” I whispered aloud, reaching forward to trace it with my forefinger before I realized what I was doing. A shock of electricity passed between us and for a split second the tattoo glowed red through the black ink, bathing my palm in heat.

I jerked my hand away and anxiously met Sparrow’s eyes. They blazed a radiant sapphire.

“I’m sorry,” I said uncertainly.

“It’s alright, Sydney.” He took a deep breath. “You did no harm. As I said, they’re powerful symbols.”

I gave him a tentative smile. He slowly returned it, making my stomach do queer little flips. He looked away and took a swallow of his coffee. My mind raced along with my pulse. I was achingly attracted to him. But I couldn’t allow that to get in the way of the more important fact that I needed his help.

“I was thinking,” I began cautiously, “if Balthus really has been stealing unaligned souls, maybe there’s a way to cancel my contract by getting him discredited.”

Sparrow gave me a considering look. “It might be possible,” he admitted.

My heart leapt, but his next words dampened my enthusiasm.

“I don’t want you to get your hopes up, though. Lorien’s right, there are no recorded instances of a death djinn contract ever being cancelled.”

I opened my mouth to protest and Sparrow held up his hand. “Impatient little witch,” he taunted. “I wasn’t finished. There are extenuating circumstances in your case. If I can prove that Balthus has been trading in unaligned souls, I can make a good argument that some, if not all, of his existing contracts should be nullified—especially an uncompleted one like yours.”

He paused, as if deciding whether to say more, and his eyes turned serious. “But you should know that, so far, I’ve only discovered the one unaligned soul in Balthus’ possession. He insists that he won it from a goblin during a game of dice, and that it appeared to be aligned when he received it.”

I gave him an incredulous look. “Now you’re telling me that there are goblins, and that they gamble with death djinns using human souls as currency? And that’s legal?”

Sparrow sighed. “I’ve never endorsed the soul trade, Sydney. But as long as the human receives some sort of payment in return and their soul remains aligned, it’s considered legal. The official position of the Seelie Court is that if a human wants to sell their soul for fortune, fame, protection…whatever it may be…that’s their business.”

I shook my head in consternation. “How can you tell the difference between an ‘aligned’ soul and an ‘unaligned’ one?”

“Aligned souls are still connected to their human host in some manner. Unaligned souls have been ripped completely free of their host.”

Sparrow exhaled wearily. “And a human cannot survive for long once their soul has been completely cut free.”

My eyes widened. “Is that what happened to the girl upstairs?” The one who looks so much like me, I thought, but didn’t say it. “Is she going to die?”

He gave me a measured look and the sorrow in his expression was answer enough.

“Christ, Sparrow!” I whispered. “And you think Balthus did that to her?”

His jaw tightened. “Balthus swears he’d have no use for an unaligned soul, and that hers must have been tampered with to make it appear aligned.”

“And you believe him?” I scoffed. “How could he not know? Wouldn’t he have figured it out as soon as he realized there was no human host for him to boss around?”

His lips turned up in a derisive twist. “He says he only had the soul for a few days and that he stuck it in his vault and hadn’t bothered to check in with the host yet.”

Sparrow drained his cup and his gaze turned considering. “There are minute traces of magic on the soul. We haven’t yet discovered what that magic was designed to do, but if the soul appeared aligned when he received it, whatever made it appear that way has clearly worn off now.”

“You really think it’s possible that he didn’t know?” I asked.

Sparrow was quiet for a moment. “I don’t believe that Balthus can be trusted,” he said finally, “so it makes it difficult to gauge whether there’s any truth to his story.”

I worried the corner of my lip between my teeth as I tried to assimilate everything Sparrow had said and find a way to make it work to my advantage. “I need to talk to him again,” I muttered with a soft shake of my head.

“Pardon?” Sparrow said incredulously.

My eyes flew to his. I hadn’t realized I’d spoken aloud, but I wasn’t taking it back. It was the only way I could see to move forward. “I said I need to talk to Balthus again,” I repeated, working to keep my voice confident despite my apprehension.

“I’m not sure that’s such a good idea, Sydney,” Sparrow replied.

“Balthus and I have a connection,” I pressed. “You said it yourself at the hotel that night—I’m two thirds his already. I want to hear what he has to say. I need this Sparrow. I can’t just sit by and wait for your investigation or Lorien’s research. Meanwhile, if I screw up and say the wrong thing, I lose my soul forever. You saw how easy it is to say that word by accident.”

“I still don’t see the point.” He crossed his arms over his chest and leaned back until the plastic chair groaned. “What exactly do you think you’re going to get out of Balthus that trained investigators and magic haven’t already?”

“Who knows? He won’t be threatened by me, so maybe he’ll slip up and say something he wouldn’t say in front of you. Or maybe I can appeal to his sense of fair play and get him to admit that I didn’t really make a ‘death wish’. Maybe he’ll cancel my contract as a gesture of good faith since he’s in such a legal tight spot with the unaligned soul you found.”

A range of emotions played across Sparrow’s handsome face as he stared at me. “Balthus doesn’t have your sense of fair play, Sydney. He’ll try to trick you, and he’s exceedingly good at what he does. If you slip up and make a wish in front of him, I won’t be able to help you.”

“Please, Sparrow,” I pleaded, sensing that I almost had him convinced. “I have to do this. I’m well aware of the stakes, and I promise I’ll be careful.”

He closed his eyes and his jaw tightened. Then he let out a long breath and said briskly, “Fine. It’ll probably be about a week before I can get you approved for a visit.”

I smiled in relief. “Thank you, Sparrow. It’ll be okay, I promise.”

He gave a resigned chuckle and said, “How did we end up with you trying to reassure me? And it’s Patrick, by the way. But you can call me Pat.”

“Syd! There you are—I’ve been looking all over for you! Oh…” Sunny skidded to a halt as she realized that I wasn’t alone. “Sorry. I didn’t know you had company. Who is your company?” she eyed Sparrow with interest.

“Sunny, this is Agent Patrick Sparrow. He’s the one who arrested Balthus last weekend. Sparrow, this is my best friend since high school, Sunny.”

Sparrow snorted. “Great. Just how many people have you told about our world?” he asked with futile amusement.

“Only Sunny,” I said, trying not to sound defensive. “Was I really supposed to keep the most unbelievable thing that’s ever happened to me a secret from everyone I love?”

“No. Of course not,” he sighed. “Nice to meet you, Sunny.” He extended his hand.

Sunny accepted it, shooting me a sideways look that clearly accused me of not mentioning how hot he was.

“So, what are you doing about this Balthus guy?” she asked.

Her voice was friendly, but Sparrow didn’t mistake it for anything other than a demand. He stiffened and switched back into policeman mode as he answered her. It made me miss the more relaxed Sparrow from moments before.

“Sydney and I have just been discussing that at some length. I am currently conducting an investigation into certain allegations against Balthus. I have agreed to give Sydney the opportunity to interview him, as she feels that his incarceration may allow her some leverage over the status of her soul contract. I’m sure she’ll be glad to tell you all about it,” he said, rising.

“However, right now I’m afraid I’m pressed for time and must return to the office.”

“Well, it was nice to meet you, Patrick. And we’ll be counting on you.” She grinned, clearly unfazed by his official demeanor. “Cool tattoos, by the way.”

“Much appreciated.” He nodded at Sunny and then winked at me. “Sydney, I’ll be in touch.”

“Bye, Sparrow. And thanks.”

His lips twitched with humor. “I said you could call me Pat.”

I cocked my head and smiled up at him. “I think I’ll stick with Sparrow. It feels better, somehow.”

“Stubborn little witch,” he whispered. Then he turned away and was gone.

“That man is no sparrow,” Sunny muttered. “A falcon or a hawk, maybe, but definitely no sparrow.”

I nodded, nibbling my lip with a wistful sigh.