Page 19 of The Death Dealer

Soleil looked past him, and a small frown tugged her dark brows together. “He’s nice. What don’t you like about him? Why was your reaction so extreme earlier?”

“Let’s just say he’s known for his shady business dealings throughout the witch community.”

“Who says?”

“What?” Trev scowled down at her. Why the hell couldn’t she trust him on this one?

“You heard me. Who says? Who are the people bad-mouthing him?” She paused and smirked up at him, and damned if he wasn’t distracted by that goddamned sexy mouth. “And I’m not going to trust you on this one,” she stated primly. “I don’t know you any more than I do him. Also, you might need a few lessons on blockingyourthoughts, too.”

With a frustrated huff, he stalked toward their warden. “If you’re determined to keep us here, Stockton, have someone show us our room.”

“Rooms,” Soleil piped in from behind him. “We want separate rooms.”

“No. We. Do.Not!” Trevor ground out.

Her chin jutted out, tempting him to strangle her. Or kiss her. But definitely to share a bed with her.

When she flushed, he grinned evilly, suddenly feeling lighter than he had a minute before. He’d forgotten to contain his thoughts again, and she wasn’t indifferent to the sexual scenarios currently running through his mind.

Someone cleared their throat, and still, it wasn’t enough to break Trevor and Soleil’s staring contest. What did it say about him that her stubbornness was a total turn-on?

Without looking away from her, Trev lifted his brows challengingly and said, “Stockton, if you have adjoining rooms, we’ll be grateful for your hospitality. If not, we’ll require one room.”

Gene Stockton’s voice was highly amused when he replied, “That can be arranged.”

Chin still in the air, Soleil breezed past Trevor and accepted Stockton’s proffered arm.

“Thank you,” he heard her say to their host.

“My pleasure, Ms. Stephens. At dinner tonight, we can discuss the reason for your visit, and tomorrow, we’ll do what we can to discover who tried to harm you.” Within minutes, they were outside a suite of rooms, and Stockton gestured with a wave toward the door. “I believe you’ll find everything you need, and if not, I’m certain you can conjure it.”

“But the Blockers?—”

“Are only to prevent you from leaving. Not to curtail your magic in general.”

A troubled light entered the man’s gray eyes, but fled so quickly Trevor thought perhaps he’d imagined it.

“Might I have a brief word with you, Mr. Blane?”

Soleil hightailed it through the door, and Trev was left to wonder if Stockton had held him back by design or if there was a real reason. He didn’t have long to wait.

“I don’t trust you,” Stockton stated coldly, all pretense of an affable host gone. “I don’t know why you felt it necessary to trail along with Ms. Stephens, but?—”

“Because as I stated, someone tried to run her down five minutes before we got here,” Trev retorted. “If you believe I’m leaving her in your care without protection, you’ve got a screw loose.”

The other man narrowed his eyes as he studied him. “Then I suggest we discover who might have an ax to grind with your lovely companion.” A sly expression crossed his face. “I hope you realize you have competition for her affections. I find her a delight.”

“Are you a hundred years old?” Trev sneered. “Who says things like that? ‘I find her a delight,’” he mimicked with a sneer. “No wonder you live all alone on an island in the middle of the Pacific.”

“You know where my home is located?” The question was soft yet deadly.

“I’ve always known, Stockton. You’re on the Authority’s radar. Have been since you went head-to-head with my father.”

“Your father.” Tone flat, Stockton stared at him, but his overall energy wasn’t as combative. “If you’d ever like the truth of our encounter, I’m happy to tell you. But I’m going to recommend you don’t believe everything you hear. Dinner’s in one hour, Mr. Blane.”

There was an unexpected dignity in the way Gene Stockton carried and conducted himself, and his entire vibe was puzzling. Acting on impulse, Trevor pulled out his phone and called his brother, Simon, the moment Gene was out of sight.

“Hey, Trev. Why are you calling so late? Everything okay?” Although sleepy sounding, there was a sharpness to his brother’s voice. Trev calculated the time difference for the East Coast, and tapped the heel of his palm to his head. He hadn’t realized so much time had passed since meeting Maddie at the restaurant.

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