Page 46 of Dead Heat

Gun held out his hand and Del shook it. “Don’t make the poor man stand in the hallway, Lor. This draft is strong enough to shrink the giant golf ball at Epcot.”

Del widened the gap and motioned for us to enter. Gun fingered the sleeve of his robe as he passed.

“Mulberry silk?”

“It is,” Del practically purred.

Gunther’s presence seemed to relax him because he offered to make us cappuccinos with “the perfect frothy foam.”

Gun settled on the sofa and rested his arms along the back. “Sounds scrumptious, but I adhere to the Italian rule. No cappuccino after eleven.”

“Nothing for me, thanks,” I said. I sensed too much magic to feel comfortable accepting food or drink from Del Riggio.

Del sat on the loveseat adjacent to the sofa, still not bothering to tie his robe. “Why are you asking about Alessandro?”

I clasped my hands around my knee. “He’s been unwell ever since your … encounter.”

“Unwell?”

“Relax. Not in the STI sense,” Gun clarified.

“It appears he’s been cursed or hexed,” I said.

His eyes flooded with understanding. “That’s why you referenced magic. You think my wife or I might’ve done it.”

I watched him intently. “Did you?”

“Why would I do that? I haven’t enjoyed myself that much since before I was married.”

Gunther leaned forward, eyes glittering. “Really? Do tell.”

I pushed the mage back with my elbow. “Is it possible your wife sensed your enjoyment and was unhappy about it?”

“Carrie knows she has nothing to worry about. Trust me. And even if she had been jealous, she doesn’t have the ability to curse or hex anybody. The magic is mine.”

“What kind of magic do you practice?”

“Whatever it is, it’s dark,” Gun said. “It feels like heavy cobwebs hanging all around us.”

Del tilted his head. “An innate sense of fabricsandmagic. I’m impressed.”

Gun waved a hand. “Flatter me later. Right now, you need to answer Lorelei’s questions.”

“I’m a warlock.”

“And Carrie?” I asked.

“She’s human, but she has the Sight.”

“How long have you been married?”

“Ten years next month.”

“Have you always had an open relationship?”

“It’s necessary,” he said simply.

I didn’t let the answer slide. “For what? You’re not an incubus.”

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