Page 6 of Once Upon a Curse for True Love
Andromeda hated that she noticed his good looks.Hated even more than she didn’t seem able to tear her gaze from that sculpted chest.
He carried a manila folder and a steaming cup that flooded the sterile room with the rich aroma of coffee.The scent made her stomach growl—she hadn’t eaten anything since the ice cream, and that felt like a lifetime ago.And right now, she’d drink troll sweat if it meant she could go back to feeling her toes.But he didn’t offer her any refreshments.
“Hello, Miss Swan.”His tone was formal and his gaze assessing as he settled into the chair across from her.
“Hello, prick,” she replied, managing a smile that was all teeth and zero warmth.
To her annoyance, the corners of his mouth twitched upward.He placed the folder on the table unhurriedly like they had all the time in the world.And maybe he did with his warm cup of coffee and long-sleeved shirt that looked like it could actually conserve body heat.
He smiled fully then—a cocky, self-assured grin that said her barbs barely registered.“Save your energy.Your insults are cute, but I’m immune to sarcasm.”
“Wasn’t being sarcastic.”Andromeda leaned forward, matching his smile with one of her own—sweet enough to cause cavities.“And I’m immune to douchebags, so we should be fine.”
He clicked his tongue, a sharp sound of disapproval that shouldn’t have sent a thrill down her spine, but did.What the hell was wrong with her?Stockholm syndrome didn’t set in this fast.
Instead of responding to her provocation, he flipped open the folder and began asking about her work as an IT consultant.His questions were pointed, targeting her connections within the magical tech community, the online forums she participated in, and the coding circles she moved in.He asked about her certifications in arcane programming, her specialties in magically enhanced encryption, and whether she had associations with any known code-breakers or digital ward manipulators.
Andromeda answered cautiously, aware that while she’d never done anything truly illegal, she had operated in gray areas.She’d consulted for companies seeking better security measures, sometimes testing their systems by breaching them herself for educational purposes.And occasionally, when bills were tight or the challenge was too enticing, she’d accepted jobs that skimmed the edges of legality—but nothing that would warrant an arrest or murder charges.Her transgressions, if discovered, might raise an eyebrow, maybe earn her a slap on the wrist, but not land her in a cell.
While she navigated his questions, Andromeda became distracted by the man himself.He moved with the unhurried efficiency of someone used to command.His hands—strong, large, with long fingers and clean, short nails—never gestured to emphasize a point.Despite the lack of motion, his scent permeated the air.Cedar mingled with something brutally male, a warm spice that made her body react in ways that were unwise for someone under interrogation.
Hex, she needed to focus.This was the wizard who’d arrested her, dragged her from her home in handcuffs, and thought her capable of murder.Attraction was not on the menu, no matter how nicely that shirt clung to him or how his voice rolled low and deep when he asked pointed questions.
And yet… she noticed how his gaze held hers.For an interrogation, an unusual amount of sustained eye contact was taking place.Was that normal?An intimidation tactic designed to make suspects uncomfortable?Because it was working, but not in the way he intended.Each time their eyes locked, a shock zipped down her spine, a current of awareness that had nothing to do with the case and everything to do with base, inexplicable instincts evolution should have bred out centuries ago.
“Miss Swan, in the course of youreducationalexplorations…” The way he emphasized “educational” made it clear he didn’t buy that explanation.“Have you crossed paths with a Magnus Thorn?”
Andromeda frowned, confused.“I don’t know anyone by that name.”
Detective Malatesta’s lips curled up in a lopsided grin that was equal parts attractive and infuriating.“Perhaps you know him better by his street name: Arcanet.”
Andromeda’s blood turned to ice in her veins, colder than the metal chair beneath her.
Her reaction didn’t escape the detective, whose eyes narrowed as he registered her shock.“Ah.I see the name rings a bell.What’s your connection to Arcanet, Miss Swan?”
Andromeda swallowed against the sandpaper drag of a dry mouth.“Everyone who dabbles in magical coding knows Arcanet.He’s a celebrity in those circles.”
“Is that right?”Detective Malatesta tapped a finger on a printout she couldn’t read at this angle.“Did every magical coder also have a heated argument with him on a public forum this afternoon—mere hours before he was killed?”
What?Arcanet was dead?And why would they suspect her?
Okay.She’d called his position on encryption algorithms elitist and short-sighted.He’d responded by questioning her credentials and intelligence.She’d fired back with a scathing analysis of the flaws in his most recent program.The exchange had gotten personal, heated.
And now he was dead.
And she was in an interrogation room.
Oh, crap!
Chapter Four
Hard Evidence
DONATELLO
Shock flickered across the witch’s face—too sharp to be faked.Her whiskey-colored eyes widened, lips parting as the accusation hung between them.If she was faking the reaction, she deserved a damn award for it.But in his career as a cop, Donatello had learned that honest reactions didn’t always mean clean hands.
“I didn’t kill him.”Andromeda’s eyes flashed.“I was at home all night with my roommate.We never left the house.She already told you.Don’t you have her on record?”
