32. The Benefits of a Sturdy Table

When we went in, I hit the outdoor lights switch and then locked the door.

Declan paused and studied the painting progress. "Looks like you were able to do some work today."

I nodded. "Not much, but at least I finished the big wall."

He stared into the corner, at the short wall connecting the road side of the gallery and the parking lot side. "I don't know how you did it, but that triangular storage room in the corner disappeared."

I smacked his arm. "Right? It's an optical illusion I created through brushstroke angles and paint colors. If it was bright in here, you'd see it." I flicked my fingers and the overhead lights came on.

He shook his head. "I see it because I'm looking for it. If I wasn't, my eyes would have gone right past it. You better watch out. You're going to get people running into that wall."

"I have big, glass-fronted display cases that go there. And it's not a storage room. I'll be using it to give readings. I can't do that out here once I open, and I don't want clients in my studio. Too much of what I see is painful. I don't want that energy in my creative space."

"Is there anything in the room yet?" he asked.

I shook my head. "The gallery is the priority. I haven't scheduled any readings for a little while so I can get the main space ready."

"Let's look. Do you have the furniture you need?" His fingers slid down my arm before clasping my hand.

As we walked across the huge space, I said, "I know what you're doing."

"Checking to see if my girlfriend needs me to make any pieces for her reading room?" He gave me a look that caused mad flutterings.

"Yeah. That's it." I played along, knowing full well he was trying to take my mind off the man who'd intended to hurt me in dark and varied ways.

It was a decent-sized room, somewhere between a small storage room and a large walk-in closet, but it worked fine for what I did. I made sure there were tall windows so clients didn't feel too claustrophobic.

"Nice light," he said, looking up.

I'd had Phil's guys install an antique chandelier. It was a French nineteenth century fixture, with elaborate black iron scrollwork holding five candles. I flicked my fingers and the candles lit. Declan reached over to the light switch on the wall and turned off the canned lights forty feet above, leaving the candles flickering in the now dim room.

Declan pulled me into his arms and kissed me until I forgot where I was and what I was doing. "Oh," he growled, "I like this room." He palmed my butt and then lifted me up so I could wrap my legs around him. Pressing me into the wall, he kissed up and down my neck. "I could install a Murphy bed."

I glanced around, judging distance. "Maybe just a really sturdy table."

"Done." And then his mouth was on mine.

I was pulling his shirt out of his jeans when I remembered we had cops outside. Patting his shoulder, I said, "Wait a minute."

Wolf gold eyes met mine.

"Dead guy. Cops. Statements." I wasn't any happier about it than he was.

His head dropped to my shoulder. "Forgot."

I saw his truck outside in the parking lot. "Let's go get dinner from your rig and I'll spell your tires and windshield against random acts of wolf violence."

Blowing out a breath, he set me back on the floor. "Yeah, okay. But don't forget where we were." He rubbed his hands over his face and then finished untucking his shirt. "I'll get my measuring tape too, so I can see how much room I've got to work with in here."

"How much room do you need?" I ran my hand down his thigh.

"Watch it, woman." He took my hand and led me out. "Don't forget to turn off the lights."

Laughing, I flicked my fingers, snuffing the candles. "You seem to be walking a little funny. You okay?"

"What did I say about watching it?" He swung around, picked me up, and threw me over his shoulder, one large mitt of a hand on my butt. "That's a little too much lip outta you."

"I thought you liked my lip."

He opened the back door and came to a sudden stop. I pushed on his back to lift my upper body and see what was going on.

"You put her down this instant," Bracken ordered.

Declan did and I stepped in front of him. Bracken was about to nail Declan with a spell.

"I'm okay. We were just messing around."

"There are police officers here. One came to my door and wanted to talk with me." He looked both outraged and concerned. "She said someone had tried to hurt you and asked if I saw anything, which, of course, I hadn't. And then this." He gestured at a very tall and muscular Declan.

Stepping forward, I rubbed his shoulder. "Thank you for looking out for me, but I'm okay. The guy who was looking in my windows earlier? He came back with a gun."

Bracken stood rigid, his expression furious.

"I spelled the gun to jam so when he tried to shoot me, it exploded in his face. This one," I said, pointing at Declan, "pulled me out of the way so I didn't get hurt. The cops are out front investigating. We were going to his truck to get dinner. It's Mexican. Are you sure you don't want to eat with us?"

His eyes brightened at Mexican. "Oh, I don't want to intrude."

"It's no intrusion. In fact, you can come help me now. There are some local wolves causing Declan trouble, trashing his rig. Let's go get the food and add some protective spells."

Bracken nodded, turning back toward the parking lot. "I know just the one to use."

After my uncle and I each added our own protective spells, we all headed back in for dinner.

"You could probably enter that truck into a demolition derby now," I said.

"Do they still have those?" Bracken asked. "I remember hearing advertisements for them. They were quite irritating, Sunday, Sunday, Sunday," he mimicked. "Come to the monster truck rally." Shaking his head, he added, "Humans are odd."

Declan grinned at me and then pointed at the studio door. I took me a minute and then I saw it too. Three little noses were hanging over the edge of the roof.

"How do they keep getting up there? There are no trees that brush up against the gallery."

Bracken paused and looked up. A smile slowly spread across his face. "You have raccoons?"

"I don't have them. They just show up," I said. "They're Otis, Daisy, and Jasper."

Bracken raised his eyebrows. "You named them?"

"In her defense," Declan said, "she names everything."

"That's true," I confirmed.

"And she feeds them," he continued.

Bracken and Declan shared a look.

"Arwyn," Bracken began, "they're wild animals. You can't make them reliant on humans. It's unsafe for them."

"I'm not! It was just Otis at first. He looked really hungry but was too polite to ask, so he just sniffed at the basket where I had a muffin. He sat like a little gentleman by the basket, waiting to see if I'd share. I mean, come on. Look at them. What? I'm supposed to say, Starve, you adorable little forest creature. I have more than enough food to share, but I'm selfish and won't. Is that it?"

"Bracken, I don't know if you understand how hard she's fighting the impulse to run inside and get them food right now." Declan scratched his beard, trying to hide his grin.

"Oh, shut up." I ran inside and got three cinnamon oatmeal raisin muffins. I'd been experimenting. Mom had said it wasn't a popular flavor, but those few customers who bought one really enjoyed it.

I defrosted them in my hands, adding a bit of warmth while I was at it. When I came back out, Declan and Bracken were sitting on a bench, looking up and chatting—that was nice. I looked up as well but didn't see the raccoons' noses. Thankfully, it only took a moment before they popped back out again, sniffing the air.

"Okay, you guys." I held up the three muffins, so they knew they'd each get one. "Otis, you're first." I tossed up a muffin and little paws shot out to grab it. "Daisy, you're next." I tossed and more little paws. "Jasper, are you ready?" One last toss and two more paws shot out. "Have a warm meal and then enjoy your adventures tonight. But be careful up there!"

I turned to the men. "Let's eat."

Bracken went in but Declan pulled me into a hug. "How worried are you about them falling off the roof?"

I slumped into him. "Very. They're babies and it's so high up there. Where are their parents? That's what I want to know."

He kissed the top of my head and pulled me into the studio. "Come on. I'm hungry."

When we went in, Bracken was sitting at the worktable, correctly assuming it was also the dining table. "Declan, can you give the food boxes to my uncle? He can warm up the food while I get plates and utensils."

The studio filled with mouthwatering smells as boxes were opened and spells were used to heat the food. I put out the plates, silverware, and napkins. "What would you two like to drink? I have water, milk, soda, beer, and tea."

"I don't suppose you have horchata?" Bracken asked as he continued to spell the boxes, heating up the food.

Declan and I shared another look. "I'm afraid I don't."

"Oh, well. Water will do fine for me. Thank you, dear," Bracken said, finally sitting back down.

When I returned with drinks, our feast began. All our plates were piled high and still there was more food. Of course, Declan loved leftovers. They took the guesswork out of the next day's lunch.

Bracken finished quickly and then went back to his motorhome so he could continue his research, leaving Declan and me alone. He'd just shoved his plate aside, his eyes wolf gold, when we heard a knock on the back door.

Slumping back in his chair, he growled.

I waved Hernández and Osso in.

"Oh my God," she said, "that smells amazing!"

"I'll get two more plates." I hopped up. "What would you guys like to drink?"

"No, no," Hernández said. "We don't want to take your food."

"Speak for yourself," Osso grumbled. "I'm starving."

Hernández, of course, relented. Neither had eaten anything since breakfast.

Once they were done eating, they moved back into detective mode, asking each of us to give our statements.

Osso tapped his notebook in the table. "You gave him a shove—"

"Two," I clarified.

"Two. And your uncle gave him one earlier today. Any idea why he kept ending up back here?"

I shook my head. "Originally, it could have been something as simple as he drove this road to and from work, so even though we redirected him, every time he drove by, the obsession was re-engaged. Today, though, I felt my cousin, the sorcerer's hand in it."

"And this guy was never a client, right?" Hernandez asked. "He never came for a reading?"

I shook my head again. "I'd never seen him before a couple of days ago."

"He was off," Declan said. "The first time we noticed him, I caught his scent and wanted him away from her den. I kept putting myself between them and I couldn't get her away soon enough. He smelled like sickness."

Osso nodded. "I caught that under the blood, sweat, and gunpowder." He pocketed the notebook. "Okay. We're going now. You should be fine," he said to me. "He's the one with the gun. He's the one who pulled the trigger. You can't be held responsible for his gun backfiring." He gave me a look. "At least not in a human court."

"I guess that's something," I said, walking them to the back door.

Once they were gone, the door locked and the shutters drawn, Declan threw me back over his shoulder and took the stairs to my loft two at a time.