Page 67 of Power of the Mind

My cheeks warmed, and I was glad for the darkness. I didn’t respond. Couldn’t. What was I supposed to say to that? It wasn’t the first time he’d pointed out my propensity to get physical during times of stress when I needed him to move his ass. Tallus found humor in the exchange. What he didn’t realize was how pissed I got at myself for doing it. I shouldn’t be so forceful and demanding. These were not positive qualities and were a prime example of a lack of impulse control. It was reactive and negative like smacking a mouthy teenager for cursing in your face.

I didn’t want to be that person.

Tallus, always perceptive, nudged me playfully. “I’m messing with you, D. It was a joke. You can drag me around all you want. Doesn’t bother me.”

I didn’t respond.

Tallus softly chuckled and kissed my shoulder before turning back to see what the doctor was up to since he hadn’t moved the car. I pretended the simple action—all Tallus’s tender actions—weren’t upending my entire life.

The car idled. Hilty had yet to leave. I tried to see through the dense hedge, but it was impossible.

“What the fuck is he doing?” I snapped.

Tallus, dismissing caution, peeked over the top of the bushes. “He’s reviewing the files again, and he’s on the phone.”

I chanced a quick glance. Hilty spoke to whoever was on the other end of the line for two or three minutes before hanging up. He tossed the files on the passenger seat, then buried his face in his palms and scrubbed. When he sat back, he punched the steering wheel, and a muffled “Fuck” reached my ears. Another minute passed, and Hilty pulled onto the street and drove away.

“Come on.” I hopped to my feet anddid notgrab Tallus by the arm as I hustled to the sidewalk and aimed for the cemetery.

“We’re never going to catch up with him, D.”

“He’s going to his office.”

“And how do you know that?”

“I don’t.”

But I strongly suspected Hilty wasn’t about to take those files home.

I wanted to know what they were about. If my years as a cop had taught me anything, it was not to ignore my gut instincts, and at the moment, they were telling me to follow the man because the folders he’d taken from Madame Rowena were important.

But we didn’t make it that far.

The cemetery was crawling with a police presence. The instant I saw them, my skin tightened and back stiffened. I hated police officers. It didn’t matter that I used to work for the department. It didn’t matter that Tallus and I had been doing nothing wrong—spying on Madame Rowena notwithstanding—I always felt like a target.

I always felt guilty for existing.

The cemetery technically wasn’t closed for the night until ten o’clock. There was no law stating we couldn’t cut through. Still, when I insisted we go around by way of the street to avoid unnecessary confrontation, Tallus was having none of it.

“This doesn’t affect us. We’ll be fine.”

It didn’t have to affect us for the police to think we were a problem. My size alone made me a target.

But I followed Tallus because, god help me, I would follow that man into the fiery pits of hell if he asked. I was instantly on the defense, ready to fight. How many times as a teen and young adult had I dealt with the police? Even as an officer, no one had ever been on my side. I was trouble on sight. The shit stirrer. The six-and-a-half-foot-tall man with the scars on his face couldn’t possibly be innocent. He looked dangerous and threatening, and everyone, every-fucking-one, judged a book by its cover.

I stuck close to Tallus, keeping my chin down and hands in my pockets. Tallus slowed when we got closer to the commotion, visibly gawking. The man couldn’t help himself, could he? Always had to have his nose in other people’s business.

The group of loitering men and women we’d passed on our way through had been rounded up by a handful of uniforms. Two of the young men were in cuffs, kneeling on the ground, looking as pissed off as I felt. The rest of the group was being questioned by a broad-shouldered constable with a trusty notepad in hand. Radios chirped. Orders were shouted with clipped authority. The men on their knees argued and spat venom.

Three more cops scanned the area with flashlights.

On the move again, Tallus whispered, “Act cool,” as he angled us wide around the crowd.

But no. It was never going to be easy.

A sharp whistle pierced the air, drawing us to a halt. “You two. Over here.”

Fuck. I knew they wouldn’t leave us alone. A low growl resonated in my chest, and I balled my fists. Great. Just what we fucking needed. “We should have gone around,” I spat.

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