Night Shift (Kate Daniels #6.5)(35)

Magic rolled over us in an invisible wave. All of the electric lights went out and the feylantern in the bathroom stirred into life, glowing with gentle blue. My magic flowed through me. Excellent. He would heal faster during a magic wave.

“Sorry I ruined the date,” Jim murmured.

I snuggled up to him, my hand on his chest, careful not to press too hard. “You didn’t. This is perfect.”



KNOCK-KNOCK-KNOCK.

I opened my eyes. I was lying in my bed. I inhaled deep and smelled Jim. His scent was all around me, the clean, citrus-spiced smell that drove me crazy. His arm was across my waist, his body hot against my side.

Jim was in my bed and he was holding me. I smiled.

Knock-knock-knock.

Someone was knocking on my front door. That was fine. They could keep knocking. I would just keep lying here, in my soft bed, wrapped in Jim. Mmmm . . .

“Dali! Open the door.”

Mom.

I jerked upright in my bed. Jim leaped straight up and landed on his feet, his arms raised, his body tense, ready to pounce. “What?”

“My mother is here!” I jumped to the floor, jerked a pair of shorts from under my bed, and hopped on one foot trying to put them on.

He exhaled. “I thought it was an emergency.”

“It is an emergency,” I hissed in a theatrical whisper. “Stay here! Don’t make any noise.”

“Dali,” he started.

I grabbed a pillow and threw it at him. “Shush!”

He blinked. I grabbed my kimono, tossed it over me, shut the door to my bedroom, and ran down the stairs, holding on to the rail for dear life so I wouldn’t trip. The last thing I needed was my mother finding out I had Jim in my bedroom. There would be no end of shock and questions and then she would want to know if we had set the date for the wedding yet and when are the grandchildren coming. I didn’t even know if Jim was serious.

I jumped the last seven steps, tied my kimono, and reached for the door.

The wineglasses. Oh shoot. I raced into the kitchen, grabbed the two wineglasses, dumped the wine down the sink, stuck them into the nearest cabinet, emptied the vegetarian curry soup into the sink, threw the butternut squash gnocchi into the trash, tossed the steak I made for Jim after it and shoved it deep into the garbage can in case my mother decided to throw something away. I washed my hands, ran for the door, and opened it.

My mother raised her hands. She was holding her bag in one and a box of donuts in the other. She was about an exact copy of me except thirty years older. We were both short and tiny and when we spoke, we waved our hands around too much. A woman about my age stood next to her. She had dark hair, big eyes, and a cute heart-shaped face. Iluh Indrayani. Like me, she was born in the U.S., but both of her parents had come from Indonesia, from the island of Bali. Her mother knew my mother and we met a few times, but never really talked.

Something bad had happened. The only time my mother brought visitors to my house who weren’t family was when some sort of magical emergency had taken place.

“You left me on the doorstep for half an hour,” my mother huffed.

“I was asleep.” I held the door open. “Come in.”

They walked inside, my mother in the lead. Iluh gave me an apologetic look. “So sorry to bother you on a Saturday.”

“That’s okay,” I told her.

We sat in the kitchen.

“Would you like something to drink?” I asked.

My mother waved her hands. “You talk. I’ll make coffee.”

Above us something thudded. I froze.

My mother stared at the ceiling. “Did you hear that?”

“Hear what?” I asked, my eyes wide. I would kill Jim. He could sit completely motionless for hours when on stakeouts. I’d seen him do it. He had to be dropping things on purpose.

Thud!

“That!” My mother turned predatory like a raptor. “What was that?”

Lie, think of something quick, lie, lie . . . “I’ve got a cat.”

“What kind of a cat?” My mother’s eyes narrowed.

“A big one.”

“I want to see,” Mom said. “Bring him down.”

“He’s a stray and a little wild. He’s probably hiding. I probably won’t even be able to find him now.”

“How long have you had him?”

“A few days.” The more I lied, the deeper I sank. My mother had a brain like a supercomputer. She missed nothing.

Mom pointed a teaspoon at me. “Is he neutered?”

Oh my gods. “Not yet.”

“You need to neuter him. Otherwise he’ll spray all over the house. The stench is awful. And when he isn’t out catting around, little female cats in heat will show up and wail under the windows.”

Kill me, please. “He is a nice cat. He’s not like that.”

“It’s instinct, Dali. Before you know it, you’ll be running a feline whorehouse.”

“Mother!”

My mom waved the spoon and went back to making coffee.

I turned to Iluh. She gave me a sympathetic glance that said, “Been there, endured that, got the good daughter T-shirt for it.”

“What can I do for you?” I asked.

Iluh folded her hands on her lap. “My grandmother is missing.”