Autumn Bones (Agent of Hel #2)

Autumn Bones (Agent of Hel #2) Page 58

Stefan didn’t rise to the bait, but his pupils did a quick, irritated wax-and-wane. “I trust Cooper.”

“I trust Cooper, too,” I added quickly.

Stefan inclined his head. “I will place him at your disposal. Is there any other means by which I may assist?”

“Not at the moment, but stay tuned,” I said. “You’re sure the Palmer ladies are safely out of town?”

“Yes.” He didn’t elaborate and I didn’t ask him to. I did tell him about my meeting with Hel and her warning. “Call upon me at need,” he said when I finished. “If there is widespread panic, we can assist in alleviating it.”

“Without ravening?” Cody asked bluntly.

Stefan turned his ice-blue gaze on him. “Did the Outcast not serve you well in the matter of the rutting satyr?”

My tail twitched at the memory of that night. “They were great,” I assured him. “I can totally tell that they’re more disciplined. So, um . . . can we borrow Cooper now?”

Stefan looked back at me, pupils dilating a bit and then steadying. Whether I liked it or not—and the jury was still out on that one—we had a bond, and the silence that stretched between us was filled with unsaid things. “Yes.”

For the remainder of the day, Cody and I drove around Pemkowet with Cooper on his vintage motorcycle as our wingman, interviewing Cavannaughs and the descendants of Cavannaughs.

Although it would have delighted me to no end if Stacey Brooks had turned out to be a grave robber, alas, it wasn’t so. Cooper confirmed that her mother wasn’t, either. And in fact, neither were any of the other seven members of the community who were direct descendants of Andrew Cavannaugh.

“Sorry to waste your time,” I said to Cooper, while Cody was on the phone reporting to the chief.

Cooper shrugged, hands deep in the pockets of his jeans. “It was a lead worth following. And I’ll tell you what, none of them may have been lying when they said they didn’t do it, but they were nervous.”

I remembered how jittery Amanda had been in her office, fidgeting with stuff on her desk. “About what?”

“Can’t say. I can’t read thoughts, just emotions. But at a guess, I’d suspect none of them were sure that one of the others hadn’t done it.”

“But none of them did,” I said.

“Right.”

“Do you think they know more than they’re saying?” I asked.

Pulling one hand from his pockets, Cooper cocked a thumb at himself. “Again, not a mind reader, me. But . . . no. More like fear and uncertainty.”

“Huh.” I wondered if we should cast a wider net, maybe interview husbands and wives instead of just blood relatives. I glanced over at Cody, who was listening and nodding into the phone. It was getting late and the fading sunlight glinted on his stubble; he needed to shave again. I shivered a little at the memory of his chin rasping against my shoulder.

Cooper followed my gaze. “There’s no future for the likes of you with a wolf, missy.”

I eyed him. “You could tell me what he’s feeling, couldn’t you?”

“I could, but I won’t,” he said with another eloquent shrug. “Myself, I’m Team Stefan all the way.”

“Ha ha,” I said. “That might actually be funny if your boss had indicated he was interested in me that way.”

Cooper’s pupils contracted. “You think he hasn’t?”

“I don’t know. Has he?” Now I was uncertain. Sure, there was the hunger I sensed in Stefan, but that had more to do with what I was than who I was, didn’t it? And yes, he’d made a comment or two that could have been construed as flirting, but I hadn’t taken them seriously for reasons that seemed pretty damn obvious to me. “Cooper, we come from different worlds. Different centuries. He’s a freakin’ medieval knight, for God’s sake!”

“Aye,” he agreed. “And some days, he feels the weight of six hundred years’ worth of immortality, six hundred years of being Outcast, six hundred years of hunger. He feels the cut of every betrayal, everyone who turned against him, called him a ghoul, called him a monster, called him unnatural. He feels the loss of every loved one who succumbed to age and death, while he went on and on; sometimes dying, only to be thrown back into the feckin’ mortal coil in no more time than it takes your heart to beat once.”

I had a feeling Cooper wasn’t just talking about Stefan.

“But you know what?” he continued, gazing steadily at me. “Some days he feels just like the regular old boyo he used to be before heaven and hell slammed the door in his face. Some days, all he wants to do is have a laugh with his mates, drink poteen, and steal kisses from a pretty lass without creeping into her soul along the way. And those days? Those are the loneliest days of all.”

I doubted that was the sort of regular old boyo Stefan Ludovic had been, but I got the point. “I’m sorry,” I said softly.

Cooper looked away. “You’re suited, is all I’m saying. You being a bit of a tempest and all. You’d have a good run. And he’d take care of you when it was over.”

“Excuse me?”

“When it was over,” Cooper said patiently. “You’re . . . what? Mid-twenties? You’d have at least ten years.” Looking back at me, he grinned. “Maybe longer these days, eh? You’ll be what they’re callin’ a cougar in your forties.”

My mouth had fallen open. I closed it. Well, duh. Of course it would end that way. How else could it end? Even Ashton Kutcher and Demi Moore couldn’t make it work, and an immortality gap was a hell of a lot bigger than an age difference. And I didn’t doubt that Stefan would take good care of me in my dotage. More and more, I was realizing he had a highly developed sense of honor.

“Thanks,” I said to Cooper. “But I think I’d rather spend my life with someone I can grow old with.”

“Or of course,” he said in a casual tone, “you could always invoke your birthright and bargain for immortality.”

“And risk unleashing Armageddon?” I stared at him. “Are you out of your fucking mind?”

“Don’t think so, no.” Cooper rocked back and forth on his heels. “But some days? Some days, I’d welcome Armageddon.”

Cody finished his call and rejoined us. “Okay, Daise. I told the chief that the Cavannaugh curse was a dead end so far. Levitt’s pulled files on a handful of kids with priors for vandalism in the cemetery, and that’s what the chief wants us to follow up on tomorrow. Sound good to you?”

“Sure.”

He glanced at Cooper. “You willing to lend a hand again?”

Cooper sketched a bow. “The big man’s placed me at your disposal. Just tell me when and where.”

“The big . . .” Cody frowned. “Oh.”

“I’ll call you,” I said to Cooper. With a nod, he straddled his bike, brought it to life, and chugged away.

Cody watched him go. “He looks so young.”

“I know. But he’s over two hundred years old.” It occurred to me that Cooper might be the perfect candidate to tell Heather Simkus, the underage vampire acolyte wannabe, a few things about the burden of immortality. That was either a great idea or a recipe for catastrophe. I’d have to think about it more. I didn’t have a lot of faith in my judgment right now.

Cody had to drive me back to his place to pick up my car, which of course resulted in an awkward parting with the two of us standing in his driveway, both of us feeling that something needed to be said, neither of us knowing what it was.

“This has been a very, very disconcerting day,” I said finally.

He looked relieved that I’d broken the silence. “No kidding.”

“I should go.” Something howled in the distance, long and mournful. Cody’s head turned. “Kinfolk?”

“No. Bob Conklin’s dog. He keeps her tied up around the full moon.” He glanced up at the darkening sky, then at the shadows falling around the woods, then at me, and there was regret in his gaze. I didn’t need to read minds to read his at that moment. If I were a suitable mate, we’d hunt beneath the just-past-full moon tonight, running with the pack and calling to one another, the autumn air ruffling our pelts. We’d hunt and kill and feast, and then we’d go home and fuck like werewolves, and one day we’d teach our own little wolf cubs to do the same thing. Well, just the hunting part with each other, obviously.

I sighed. “Just make sure you get some sleep. God only knows what tomorrow will bring.”

“I will.” Cody hesitated, then grabbed my shoulders and kissed me. It was quick, but firm and decisive.

“You confuse me,” I informed him when he released me, feeling slightly breathless.

“Sorry.” He took a deep breath, possibly feeling the same way. “I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”

I got in my car, settled the spirit lantern I’d been toting around all day in the passenger seat, and did what any sensible hell-spawn in my situation would do: I called my mom.

Less than ten minutes later, I was sitting at the old Formica dinette table she’d found at a thrift store when I was still a kid, shuffling the deck of lotería cards she used to tell fortunes, which was the ostensible reason for my visit. It wasn’t a total lie—Mom had done a reading on the Vanderhei kid’s death last July, and it had been uncannily accurate. And as close as we were, I wasn’t ready to tell her that I’d hooked up with Cody this morning. Not yet. I’d found the bandanna that Stefan had lent me in the cemetery in my car and tied it around my throat in what I hoped was a jaunty manner to conceal the evidence.

I plucked out El Diablito, my significator, and laid it faceup on the table, then shuffled the cards a few more times, doing my best to hold the image of Talman Brannigan’s mausoleum in my mind before cutting the deck three times and handing it to Mom.