Page 49 of Bewicched

His eyes crinkled at the corners. “I don’t know. I am pretty charming, though, so probably.”

Shaking my head, I grabbed the top rail and pulled myself up. “Okay, breakfast is over.” I crumpled up my napkin, going back into the gallery with Declan following. I hesitated to cause him pain, especially since he seemed to be feeling better, but I needed to know. The bloodsucker in my vision hadn’t been in last night’s dream. Had Declan’s decision not to run changed the outcome or were the events in the vision still to come? “I’m sorry to have to ask, but could you tell me exactly what happened last night? I woke up when Logan shot at you. Was that the end? Did I miss something?”

He let out a deep breath. “Can I ask you something first?”

I waited.

He pointed to the water painting. “This is someone drowning? Is that right?”

Retracing my steps, I studied the painting with him. “Yes. I saw a young woman with a man on the beach. It was late at night. She was happy and in love. She looked up at him and the face he showed her was not the one she’d seen before, the one she’d fallen in love with. This one was filled with rage and disgust, a kind of—I don’t know—lust for violence.

“She froze when she saw it, recognized it, and was unable to process the change. He grabbed her by the neck and dragged her into the water. She kicked, scratched, punched, but he was just too big, too strong, so she was no match for him. He held her under, choking the life out of her.”

“Why?” Declan’s voice had taken on a tone, as though he wasn’t just asking about this murder, but about all the horrible things we did to one another every day.

I shook my head, unable to answer the unspoken question. “Is there a reason that would justify what he did? He did it because he wanted to, because he could. I think she’s one of my cousins. Pearl was maybe twenty. Apparently, she didn’t come home after going out on a date with a new boyfriend. Her mom hadn’t met him yet. The relationship was all very secret and romantic.” I flopped down on the couch and closed my eyes. Poor thing. Her life was just beginning.

Declan sat down beside me. “That’s not romance.”

Rolling my head on the back cushion, I opened my eyes to find Declan staring back at me.

“Hiding who you’re seeing isn’t romantic,” he repeated. “It means at least one of you is unsure, embarrassed, ashamed, cheating. You know how hard it is to hold in good news. You just jumped on me and gave me a hug, checking my head for bullet wounds and scratches when you found out I wasn’t dead.” The lightness of a few minutes ago was gone. This topic had hit a nerve. “Secrecy is about having someone on tap when you want them and then being able to dump them without getting your hands dirty. No one will ask,Hey, Arwyn, how’s the new guy, if no one knows he exists.”

“Or doesn’t exist anymore,” I added.

“Exactly.”

Closing my eyes again, I sighed and became one with the couch. Maybe I’d just stay here all day. “Sometimes it really gets to me.” I scrubbed my hands over my face. “Why can’t I have visions of happy people living their best lives? Puppies and kittens chasing toys?”

“Happy people don’t need your help,” he said simply.

I opened one eye and pinned him with it.

He shrugged. “I get that it sucks, but the desperate, scared, hurt; they’re the ones that need help, not the happy ones with their lives going great. I don’t understand it, but you can connect with people who are lost and alone, who would disappear without a trace, if you hadn’t found them”—he tapped my temple—“in here.” He adopted my posture, scrunched down on the couch, his head against the back cushion. “These people aren’t dying alone. They have you and that makes you pretty damned special.”

“Charm. You’re doing that charm thing again, aren’t you?”

“Who me? Nah. I’m just trying to sweet talk my way into more baked goods.”

Chuckling, I tipped over and rested my head on the arm of the couch. “I’m so tired.”

“Me too,” he rumbled. “Listen, Phil won’t be here for at least another hour. Let’s just take a nap until then.”

Yes, please. When I sat up, I saw him skooched down, legs crossed at the ankles, arms crossed over his chest, eyes closed. He almost looked restful, if you didn’t notice the furrowed brow. He was still thinking about last night, even after successfully steering the conversation away from it. What had happened?

He opened one eye and stared back. “You’re thinking awfully loud. Come here.” He patted his chest. “Let’s get some shut-eye.”

I leaned over, rested my head on his chest, and felt myself begin to relax. When he wrapped a heavy arm around me, I felt safe and secure as I never did. Within moments, I was out.

22

Does Everyone Have a Cousin Who Can Get You What You Need?

“Arwyn?” I felt a hand slide from shoulder to elbow. “Arwyn, the detective is back.”

I blinked and found Declan’s handsome face looking back at me. Wait. I thought… I sat up and looked to my left. Nope. He wasn’t serving as my pillow anymore. When I looked back at him, he was grinning.

“I got up about seven hours ago, when I heard Phil’s truck pull up.”

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