Keeper of the Moon by Kozak Harley Jane

Author:Kozak, Harley Jane [Kozak, Harley Jane]
Language: eng
Format: mobi
Tags: Harlequin Nocturne, Series, Paranormal, Contemporary, Romance, Werewolves & Shifters, Literature & Fiction
ISBN: 0373885652
Publisher: Harlequin Nocturne
Published: 2013-03-02T08:00:00+00:00

Chapter 9

Gwydion’s Cave was like a time capsule of the Roaring Twenties, all marble and mahogany and ornate decadence. Every time Sailor walked in she felt like a flapper. Her cousin Barrie, in contrast to her surroundings, was wearing her work uniform: sweatpants, socks and an old sweater. She was glued to her computer screen in her tiny office space, Sophie the cat on the desk next to her, with Wizard and Jonquil sharing a Chippendale chaise longue. She looked up at Sailor’s entrance. “At last,” she said. “I’ve been worried.”

“Where’s Rhiannon?” Sailor asked.

“Mystic Café. Singing.” Barrie pushed back her chair. “Leaving me instructions to find out everything that’s going on. So come on. I need food.”

Sailor followed her into the Cave’s small kitchen, suddenly ravenous. She hopped onto the counter and helped herself to a handful of M&M’S from an antique bowl and started talking. There was plenty to discuss. She kept eating, moving from M&M’S to potato chips as she described the strange episodes of the Scarlet Pathogen and what she’d learned about the investigation, and when the chips were nearly gone she took a deep breath and told Barrie what she most wanted to talk about, which was what was happening between her and Declan Wainwright.

“Okay, this is more like it,” Barrie said, her green eyes lighting up. “Enough with disease and death. Making out with Declan Wainwright? I love it. I can’t believe it, but I love it.”

“Why can’t you believe it?” Sailor asked. “Should I be offended?”

“It’s not that you’re not adorable, sweetie. But he’s a friend of the family, and I thought he’d consider us off-limits. Professional courtesy.”

“What do you mean ‘off-limits’?”

“You know, as a—plaything.”

Sailor raised an eyebrow and Barrie raised one in response. “Sailor Ann, Declan is notoriously...active. Classic shifter energy. He is not a guy to fall in love with. You know that, right?”

It was like being drenched with ice water.

“Well, right. Of course. Fall in love with Casanova? No.” Sailor pasted a smile on her face. “What did we used to say when we were fifteen? ‘A kiss is not a contract.’ I know that.”

Barrie peered at her. “Do you, sweetie?”

“Yes. Declan doesn’t take it seriously. Neither do I. It’s a flirtation. A circumstantial flirtation, because we’ve been thrown together. For a while I thought it might be these intermittent pathogen-based attacks of, well, fascination. With everyone and everything. Which I thought were winding down, but then I had one on the 101 North just now, becoming interested in everyone in the fast lane. Have you ever just looked, really looked, at drivers on the freeway? Spellbinding. Collectively, we Californians are a very attractive bunch.”

Barrie was staring at her, so Sailor helped herself to a glass of water, dropping eye contact. “Okay, back to murder.”

“Not so fast,” Barrie said. “Your eyes are looking less scarlet, by the way. But maybe it is the Scarlet Pathogen, these feelings. On the other hand, you’ve had a crush on Wainwright since you were nineteen.”

“Seventeen. Oh, Barrie.

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