Something Wicked. Julie Leto

she had no idea that he’d been attacked seconds before her arrival by a shadow that had emerged from the dead mayor’s body. And he wasn’t about to tell her. Had he imagined the whole episode? Had the connection with Lilith cost him his sanity? He’d have suspected Regina, too, was a figment of his imagination if Mac hadn’t just spoken with her seconds before.

      “Why?” he asked, anticipating an answer he didn’t want to hear.

      “Do you really need for me to tell you?”

      He was a cop. He had to think like a cop. Assess the crime scene. Catalogue the evidence. Formulate a working theory that could be backed up by proof.

      Her gaze flicked toward the elevator doors, where Mac and Lilith had just escaped. Mac and Lilith, who would, from the evidence he observed and what he’d seen with his own eyes, be charged if not convicted of a double murder.

      Unless he told Regina what she needed to know.

      Unless he ignored what had just happened and denied the moral path he’d followed since birth.

      Something unexplainable had occurred here. Something evil. Something wicked. But mostly, something unjust. He couldn’t allow Mac and Lilith to pay the price. He did as she asked and told her all that he had seen and heard. Then, once she was satisfied that she understood the full breadth of the situation, Regina asked Rick one last question.

      “So how do we ensure that neither my sister nor Mac is charged with murder?”

      Rick eyed her with a loathing he had not felt in years. She was asking him to help her cover up a crime. It went against everything he’d ever believed in, even before he joined the police force. Justice wasn’t supposed to work this way. Was it?

      “First,” he answered, his chest cracking open with each syllable he uttered, “we get rid of their fingerprints.”

      2

      Six months later…

      THERE WAS A TIME when sneaking off to a hotel room with Rick Fernandez had been Josie’s ultimate fantasy. She’d spent hours in bed at night, mulling over every detail, imagining every moment. She’d fill the luxury suite of a hotel overlooking Lake Michigan with candles of her own design—candles that would enhance their senses. The strawberries and chocolate she’d order from room service would burst with sweet silkiness in their mouths, a prelude to the sugared flavor of slow, intense kisses. The music she’d tune on the suite’s high-definition stereo would block out any sounds of the city below. She had even gone to Victoria’s Secret at Water Tower Place and imagined exactly which silk panty or satin bra would drive Rick utterly mad with desire.

      Staring up at the dive motel on the dark edge of East Harlem in New York City, she wondered how her sexual fantasy had turned into such a nightmare.

      Behind her, men in tattered clothes and smelling strongly of unwashed skin, car exhaust and cheap whiskey, accosted a pair of prostitutes tottering past on acrylic heels. The women ignored the catcalls, but gave Josie a disapproving once-over as they sidled by. Josie glanced down at her own attire—snug but comfortable jeans, twin tank tops and a sleek leather jacket that worked fine to ward off the occasional chill in the unusually warm February air. She was here for seduction, yes, but she was not competing with the area’s working girls. She was here for one man and one man only.

      Rick.

      She’d staked out the hotel earlier. After months of following his ghostlike trail, she’d spotted him just before dawn and had followed him here. One bribe later and she’d acquired the number to his hotel room. She had to hope and pray that while she’d formulated her plan, he hadn’t left. Holding tight to a can of pepper spray in her pocket, she slipped into the alley and, once certain no one was around, jimmied the side door so she could enter without alerting anyone in the lobby. In the minutes just before nightfall, the place was fairly deserted. The hookers hadn’t yet shown up with their johns and the drug addicts weren’t yet sober enough to go out to find their next fix.

      But Rick was here. He had to be. She’d been searching for months, ever since he’d disappeared the night Lilith and Mac had been attacked by the mayor. She’d heard from him only once, in a note she’d found hidden in the cash register at her shop, telling her goodbye.

      The fact that he thought she’d leave matters alone on account of the contents of one scribbled note verified how little he knew her. Something had happened that night—something neither Mac nor Lilith nor Regina, the Guardian of Witches who had approved Josie’s search, knew about. Something that had sent Rick deep underground.

      She’d encouraged him to help Mac and Lilith that night. She couldn’t help bearing some of the responsibility for the aftermath. But that wasn’t why she was here. The drive to find Rick after he’d gone missing stemmed from emotions she’d never felt before. She believed in Fate. She ascribed to the whims of Destiny. And yes, she even had faith in love at first sight.

      Though it wasn’t sight that had drawn her to Rick. She wouldn’t deny that he was one of the most handsome men she’d ever encountered, but it took more than a hot guy to turn Josie’s head. Rick had a presence that struck her deep within her soul, in the part of her that longed for someone both normal and extraordinary at the same time.

      She’d found that with Rick, she was sure. Unfortunately, he didn’t feel the same or he never would have gone.

      Still, his disappearance left too many questions for her to ignore. On the most basic level, she needed to discover where he was and why he’d put himself into the dangerous, gray and bloody area between the magical and the mundane worlds. But more deeply, she had to know if maybe, under other circumstances, their relationship might have worked out. Too bad she had no idea which question she’d tackle first.

      She approached his room cautiously. She wasn’t sure exactly what she was going to find on the other side of the pocked and peeling door, but she was about certain there wouldn’t be a single scented candle or soft, romantic music. Not in this joint.

      “Don’t go in there.”

      Josie yanked her shaking hand away from the doorknob and spun, startled. Unable to move—to even gasp in surprise—she watched Regina St. Lyon emerge from the shadows. Relieved, Josie allowed herself a split second to breathe.

      “Oh, it’s you.”

      “So you’ve found him,” Regina said.

      “Nice to see you, too,” Josie said with a forced smile. She’d hadn’t exactly been avoiding contact with the Guardian of Witches, but she wasn’t thrilled to see her, either. For the past six months, Rick had been causing a disruption in the division between the mundane and magical worlds. As Guardian, it was Regina’s responsibility to find and stop him. Fortunately for Josie, even Regina’s considerable magical prowess did not include the ability to find a nonmagical human who did not want to be found—not and leave him alive. So she’d recruited Josie, giving her six months to accomplish her goal before she took matters into her own hands.

      Josie’s time was nearly up.

      Regina gave a polite bow and grinned. The effect relaxed the deep furrow on her forehead. “You look well.”

      “I was going for sexy,” she answered, tugging her tank tops down a bit lower.

      Regina arched a brow. “You plan to seduce him into stopping his rampage?”

      “Sounds like a win-win-win for all involved,” Josie said with a smile.

      While Regina had a tendency to blow up things that annoyed her, Josie believed in a quieter form of magic, particularly since she had no real powers. What could be more peaceful than motivating a man to stop wreaking havoc in the magical world by distracting him with sex?

      Regina’s smile, however, disappeared. She turned her hand palm up. A ball of pure electricity materialized just above her flesh, then spun. The color, deep purple to match her eyes, was entrancing, but Josie knew the sphere was deadly.