Page 18 of A Match Made in Coven
He pushed off the tree, closing the distance between them with a few languid strides. “I have information. About the Preston case. And I’m willing to share… in exchange for a small stipulation.”
Her eyes narrowed. “If you’re withholding evidence, I can arrest you for obstruction of justice. Then you can share the juicy details with the prison guards during your daily strip searches.”
Lorcan threw back his head and laughed, the reaction only infuriating her more.
“You think it’s funny?”
“Yes, Detective Callidora, I find your threats particularly devious and creative.”
“Only factual.” She unclipped the iron shackles at her belt. “Are you offering your wrists voluntarily, or do I have to magically subdue you?”
“I must admit, the idea of being subdued by you has its charms, but I have to decline the pleasure of your shackles today.”
She smiled sweetly. “That’s not up to you.”
Lorcan leaned in, his breath ghosting across her ear. “And what proof do you have to arrest me?” He pulled back, eyes taunting. “You really want to drag me before a judge again with no evidence? Remember how well that went last time?”
Sarah Michelle’s thoughts whirled, seeking any avenue of escape from having to deal with this impossible wizard. But the chief’s expectations lingered at the back of her mind, and the need to crack this case was a living, breathing thing inside her. Loathe as she was to admit it, if Lorcan had new information, she wanted it.
With a heavy sigh, she met Lorcan’s infuriatingly amused gaze. “Fine. What do you have, and what do you want in return?”
Lorcan’s smile widened, triumph shining in his blue-green eyes. “I merely wish to collaborate on the investigation. Pool our resources.”
Sarah Michelle scoffed. “And how do I know this supposed new information isn’t a load of dragon droppings?”
“Your distrust wounds me, detective.” Lorcan placed a hand over his heart in mock offense. “I assure you, my intentions are pure.” Now his expression sobered, all traces of mocking gone. “Elijah was like a brother to me. I want to see his killer brought to justice.”
She raised a skeptical eyebrow. “Forgive me if I don’t take the word of a Black at face value.”
“Again, with the prejudices, detective.” His tone was clipped now. He had gone from teasing to intense alarmingly fast. “You don’t even know me.”
She crossed her arms over her chest. “I’ve seen enough.”
Lorcan ignored her jab. “Have you come across the words Manor String in your investigation?”
“Yes,” Sarah Michelle confirmed, hoping her jaw had not dropped. “What does it mean? Was it a project you were working on?”
“No. I don’t know what it means, exactly. But I can help you find out…” The smirk came back. “If you let me in on the investigation.”
“Fine,” she bit out, the word tasting like acid on her tongue. “You have a deal. But if you double-cross me, Black, I swear to the fairies…”
He held up his hands in mock surrender, that infernal grin never wavering. “Wouldn’t dream of it, detective. I’m a wizard of my word.”
Somehow, that didn’t reassure her in the slightest. But Sarah Michelle had made a bargain with the devil. Now she could only pray it wouldn’t bite her in the ass.
She snapped her fingers, and a scrap of paper materialized in her hand with her address scrawled across it. “Meet me at my place in an hour.”
“I could come right now,” Lorcan offered.
She leveled him with a glare. “ButIhave had a long day, and I need a hot shower. One hour, Black. Don’t be late.”
He leaned in, playfully sniffing the surrounding air. “I suppose, unlike the other night with your little dry-rose-cyclone spell, I can allow you time for a proper shower.”
Heat crept into her cheeks at the memory of Lorcan sweaty and bare-chested, and the man’s grin turned wicked. “Then again, maybe you should make it a cold one.”
Fury surged through her veins, angry magic sparking at her fingertips.
Lorcan wisely took a step back. “One hour,” he agreed, amusement still dancing in his eyes. “Should I bring dinner? I know a great Indian place.”
