Page 33 of A Match Made in Coven
Her thumbs flew angrily over the keyboard of her screen.
It’s just a bunch of harmless humans. I can handle myself
If they’re so harmless, why can’t I come?
Sarah Michelle jabbed at her screen in frustration.
Because you’re not a cop, and if the situation goes sideways, you’d only be a liability
I’m a trained agent, I can take care of myself
I’m still not letting you go alone
Promise you’ll bring backup, or I’m coming
“Oh, for hex’s sake,” Sarah Michelle muttered under her breath.
Fine, I promise
She lied, planning to go by herself, regardless.
Tossing her phone down, she pushed back from the table.
Andromeda smirked over the rim of her mug. “Soooo, who ya texting, Shelly?” her roommate asked with faux-innocence.
“Oh, hex off,” Sarah Michelle grumbled, deliberately ignoring the question as she stalked out of the kitchen to get ready.
***
As Sarah Michelle pulled into the pothole-riddled parking lot of The Backroom, her gaze landed on the last person she expected or wanted to see. Lorcan Black, leaning against his sleek, expensive car, looking infuriatingly handsome and totally out of place in the seedy surroundings.
The midday sun caught his golden hair just right, making him even more attractive than usual, much to Sarah Michelle’s annoyance. His fancy clothes and nonchalant demeanor clashed with the rundown bar with its flickering lights, graffiti-covered walls, and the thick stench of garbage and stale beer permeating the air.
Rough-looking patrons loitered near the doorway, casting suspicious glances at the newcomers as Sarah Michelle parked her sedan. Before exiting, she squeezed the wheel tight and braced herself for the inevitable confrontation with Lorcan.
He moved just as she got out of the car, a teasing smirk playing on his lips as he sauntered over to her, hands casually tucked in his pockets. “Detective Callidora. Did your backup team get lost on the way?”
Sarah Michelle narrowed her eyes, her irritation spiking. “What are you doing here?”
Lorcan shrugged, his smirk never wavering. “Call it a hunch that you might not follow through on our agreement.”
“I don’t need backup,” Sarah Michelle argued, her pride bristling at his insinuation. “I’m trained to handle situations like this one.”
“Well, if you can go back on your word, so can I. I’m tagging along, whether you like it or not.”
Too bad she couldn’t glue his feet to the concrete so he couldn’t follow her. Or even better, turn him into a garden gnome and leave him to decorate someone’s front yard. But their argument was drawing unwanted attention. Causing a scene was the last thing they needed right now—and anyway, if she left him out here on his own, someone would murder him just to steal his watch—so she reluctantly conceded.
Grabbing Lorcan’s elbow, she hissed, “Fine, but you let me do the talking. Got it?”
Lorcan grinned, gesturing toward the bar with a mock bow. “After you, detective.”
They neared the squat, ugly structure with its peeling paint. The heavy metal door was the only thing in good repair. Was it reinforced to keep out the uninvited? Or trap people in if needed? Were they about to step into a world of trouble?
But the door wasn’t locked when she tried it, so they pushed through. A wave of smoke and noise assaulted them. The smell of alcohol and sweat was overpowering. The bar’s interior was as dark and drab as its exterior had suggested, dimly lit with a lengthy, sticky counter running along one wall. Patrons were hunched over their drinks or playing pool in the corner.
Sarah Michelle’s trained eye noted at least five individuals armed with guns, but she had no way to alert Lorcan to the danger. They’d better ask their questions and get the hex out of there.
Despite his presence being a source of worry, she was glad he was here, which only made her resent him.
