Protector

Chapter 8-1

8

Caitlin opened her eyes and blinked up at the ceiling fan above her head. It was off, the air against her face cool enough that a fan wasn’t needed. For a second, she couldn’t figure out where she was. The condo she’d rented with Danica and Roslyn?

Then she felt the bed shift slightly, and she looked over to her right, saw Alex Trujillo’s dark head on the pillow next to her. Well, okay, not right next to her; the bed was large, and he was on his side, facing away from her. She could see the smooth golden-brown skin of his shoulders and back, underlaid with an impressive amount of muscle.

It all came back to her — the warlocks, the k********g. How she’d ended up here, in Alex’s house. In his bed.

Nothing happened, she told herself. It was true. Nothing had happened. That didn’t make the current situation any less awkward.

“Good morning,” she said, since she could tell he was awake.

He turned toward her, propping himself up on his elbow. The fine lines of his jaw were now covered with dark stubble, and his hair was sticking out every which way, and he looked freaking gorgeous. “Did you sleep well?” he asked.

“Fine,” she managed.

“No more visions?”

She shook her head, hoping she looked as adorably rumpled as he did, and guessing she probably didn’t. Oh, well. “Nothing.”

“That has to be a relief.” His expression was sympathetic. “At least you were able to get some rest.”

Yes, she had, although it had taken her what felt like forever to fall asleep, knowing that Alex was in bed with her, that all she had to do was reach out and…what? Pull him to her? That was insane. But once she’d heard his breaths deepen as he slept, she’d allowed herself to relax, to drift off, until eventually slumber had claimed her as well. It hadn’t been easy, however.

“You want some coffee?” he asked, sitting up.

It was hard not to stare at his exposed chest, even though she’d gotten an eyeful of it the night before. Then again, it was a lot brighter this morning, even though all the blinds in the bedroom were still shut. “I don’t really drink coffee,” she confessed. “Do you have any tea?”

He shook his head, but brightened a little as something appeared to occur to him. “I have a jug of iced tea from Trader Joe’s in the fridge. Will that work?”

It would have to. She’d rather start off the day with a hot drink, but better some kind of caffeine than none at all. “Sure.”

After pushing back the covers, he got up and promptly disappeared through a door in the sitting area off the bathroom. Apparently, that led to some sort of walk-in closet, because he came back out a minute later in a pair of faded jeans and a University of Arizona T-shirt. Much better. At least now his face would be the only thing distracting her.

“Is that where you went?” she asked, sliding out of bed as well. The clothes she’d slept in covered everything, more or less, but they also didn’t hide much. And crossing her arms over her chest would be way too obvious. Tone casual, she added, “U of A?”

“Yeah,” he replied, and, thank the Goddess, his eyes were on her face and didn’t seem inclined to move any lower.

“Did you like it?”

He shrugged. “It was okay. I graduated, which is the important thing, I guess.”

His attitude puzzled her. She’d been overjoyed at the prospect of finishing up college at Northern Pines, since it meant she could get a real degree from a real four-year university, something that had been denied the McAllister clan until the recent truce with the Wilcoxes. And here Alex had grown up in the town that had the best school in the state, and was acting as if it was no big deal.

“What did you major in?”

“Double major. Marketing and communications.” Something in his expression told her he really didn’t want to talk about it. He picked up the iPhone that had been sitting on his nightstand, then asked, “You ready for that tea?”

“Sure,” she said, taking the hint. For whatever reason, the subject of college seemed a touchy one for him. Maybe she’d get to know him well enough that she could ask what that was all about.

Or maybe not. She was only here to help find Danica and Roslyn, right?

Frowning, she followed Alex to the kitchen. The travertine tiles were cold under her feet, and she wished she’d thought to pop into the guest room and slide on her flip-flops. Well, Alex was wandering around barefoot, so she’d do the same.

After setting his cell phone down on the counter, he got a glass out of the cupboard, then went to the fridge and retrieved a large plastic jug full of tea. Once he’d poured some for her and returned the jug to the refrigerator, he busied himself with getting a pot of coffee going.

Caitlin sipped her tea and tried not to watch him, although that was difficult. Something about the way he moved, the way he looked…everything…seemed to draw her eyes, no matter what she did. “So…what’s the plan for today?”

“It depends, I guess.” He turned away from the coffeemaker and leaned against the counter, arms crossed. “I’m supposed to work, but I’ll get someone to cover for me.”

She hadn’t even thought about that. It was Thursday, a normal work day. Or at least a normal work day for most of the world. She knew a lot of the Wilcox clan had regular jobs, acted as if there wasn’t anything particularly special about them, and it seemed to be that way down here in de la Paz territory as well. In Jerome, people worked, but even the shop owners tended to be fairly haphazard about their business hours. And since so many of the McAllister witches and warlocks were artists and artisans, they set their own schedules, such as they were.

The coffee began to perk. Caitlin inhaled the aroma, wishing coffee tasted even half as good as it smelled. But the jug tea was actually pretty good, and she could feel herself becoming more awake, more on top of things, as the caffeine started to flow through her bloodstream. There was a downside to being more alert, though; as her brain woke up, memory started to flow as well, the nightmarish images of Danica in Matías’ arms, of her letting him touch her. Violate her.

“Hey,” Alex said, the brittle note completely gone from his voice. He’d stepped closer to her, and she hadn’t even noticed. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” she replied, forcing a smile. “It’s just…memory can be a b***h sometimes, you know?”

He reached out and ran a thumb over the back of her hand. Briefly, and purely out of a desire to reassure her, she knew, but warmth flooded through her at that touch. She remembered how he’d held her last night, how it had felt being pressed up against his bare skin, how she hadn’t wanted to pull away but had done so because she knew it was dangerous to let him continue to hold her.

Yes, memory definitely could be a b***h.

“I know it’s rough. But we’ll get through this. Okay?”

She nodded, then made herself sip some more tea. Alex seemed to get the message, because he backed away and busied himself with retrieving a coffee mug from the cupboard and fetching a small container of cream from the refrigerator.

Just as he was pouring some coffee into his mug, his phone pinged. An email, it sounded like. He finished with the coffee, stirred in some cream, and then went to pick up his phone. As he read the message, he seemed to simultaneously relax and tense up.

“What is it?”

“The good news — I’m off the hook for work until this is all settled. My father’s going to keep an eye on things.”

“Oh? Doesn’t he have another job?”

Alex shook his head, his mouth pulling into a slight frown. “No, he’s sort of retired. That was his fiftieth birthday present to himself. He used to run the store, but now it’s my turn.”

He didn’t sound too pleased about it, and Caitlin wondered if that was where some of the apparent bitterness about his education had come from. Someone with a double major in marketing and communications had probably planned to do something a little more exciting than manage his family’s neighborhood store.

“And the bad news?” she asked.

His gaze returned to the email. “It sounds like Marie Begonie — that’s the Wilcox seer?”

Caitlin nodded.

“Anyway, she’s coming down to Tucson. My mother gave her directions, so I guess she’s heading straight here to the house. It sounds like she’ll get here a little after one.”

Great. Well, it was probably to be expected. No way would Angela allow all this responsibility to rest on the shoulders of an untried seer, even though Caitlin knew deep down that Marie wouldn’t be able to help. For whatever reason, rescuing Danica and Roslyn was Caitlin’s responsibility.

She didn’t tell Alex that; it wasn’t as if he’d be able to stop Marie, not when she was coming down here at the express request of the McAllister prima. Well, at Connor’s request, probably. Caitlin hadn’t spent a huge amount of time in their shared company, but she could tell that relations between Angela and Marie were a bit strained, no doubt because Marie couldn’t help seeing the daughter she should have had every time she looked at the McAllister prima, if only fate hadn’t intervened. But Marie would never go against the wishes of her primus.

“Have you met Marie?” Caitlin asked.

Alex looked somewhat surprised at the apparent non sequitur. “Um, no. I haven’t been up to McAllister territory since, well….” His eyes wouldn’t quite meet hers as he let the sentence die away.

“Since you went up to find out if you were Angela’s consort.” The thought of Angela kissing Alex in that age-old ritual sent an odd stab of jealousy through Caitlin, which was stupid. It was all just part of the tradition. They hadn’t even known each other. And Angela was ridiculously happy with Connor — anyone with half-decent vision could see that. But Alex? Obviously, he wasn’t married, and as far as Caitlin could tell, it didn’t seem as if he was involved with anyone, either. She sort of doubted he’d have let her sleep in his bed, his role of protector notwithstanding, if he was in a serious relationship with someone else.

“Yeah, since then.” His tone too deliberately casual, he continued, “Anyway, I met Connor once, and that’s about it for the Wilcoxes. I know some of them have started coming to Phoenix to shop and whatever, and a few more are attending ASU, but none of them have made it all the way to Tucson.”

“Until now,” Caitlin said. She glanced at the clock on the microwave. They’d slept in; it was almost nine. Her stomach rumbled, and although she didn’t want to impinge too much, she knew she needed to eat something so they could get on with their day. She really didn’t want to risk Marie showing up while she and Alex were still running around in their equivalent of lounge wear. “Are you one of those breakfast-skipping types? Because I’ll try to scrounge something if you are.”

“Are you kidding? It’s the most important meal of the day.” His dark eyes glinted at her, and it seemed as if some of his good humor had been restored. “I’ve got some frozen breakfast burritos, and there are bananas if you need fruit.”

Normally, she’d have yogurt and fruit, but a burrito sounded nice and sturdy. Caitlin had a feeling she’d need as much ballast as she could eat in order to face Marie Wilcox-Begonie.