Page 15 of A Hunter Cursed
Keegan nodded, her heart thumping wildly in her chest as her thoughts flew to Jeremiah. He’d said he’d touched it could still smell it even after the fact. Saying as much to Jourdain, she asked, “Is he going to be all right?”
Jourdain’s lips compressed into a grimace. “I don’t know.”
She took a step forward and stumbled, would have fallen if one of Jourdain’s big hands hadn’t latched onto her upper arm to steady her. “I think,” he said pointedly, “you should stay with me for a time. We have no idea what you were exposed to in the thinning, no idea how it might affect you.”
Keegan shook her head and shrugged off his hand. “I’m okay, just a little wobbly but I’ve got it now.”
His response was a grunt as those hawk-like features moved over her, missing nothing. She probably looked like hell, pale, shaken, and she wouldn’t be surprised if he overruled her. “Fine,” he finally conceded gruffly. “But I’ll drive you home and have someone drop off your car. You shouldn’t be driving.”
She hated to admit it, but she was still a little woozy, whether from the experience or the potion she’d drunk, she couldn’t say, so getting behind the wheel probably wasn’t such a good idea. “Okay.”
“And you’ll call me if you feel even the slightest bit off. Are we clear?”
Keegan grimaced but nodded.
Staring once more at the spot where she’d fallen, the spot where Jeremiah had seen something, touched something that had stayed with him, she added, “I want to be kept in the loop on this. I need to know what’s going on.”
Jourdain stared at her intently for a moment before nodding sharply. “Fine.”
∞∞∞
“You know, I never thought to ask you what you did for work before you took the job with Morgan and her merry band of Hunters,” Jeremiah said between mouthfuls as he worked his way through his appetizer.
Keegan had seriously considered canceling their plans and staying home to get some sleep. A dull ache still lingered in her chest and she was tired, drained after the ordeal in the alley, but she had needed to see Jeremiah, needed to ascertain for herself that he was truly fine and not suffering any effects from his run-in with the thinning. He seemed well, a fact which had her relaxing and enjoying herself, grateful she hadn’t decided to reschedule.
Leaning forward in her seat, she quietly confided, “I did what most witches in New Orleans do.”
Jeremiah nodded. “One of the tourist shops, right? Telling fortunes or tarot readings?”
Shaking her head, she grinned. “I waited tables.”
Jeremiah threw back his head with laughter. The sound was loud, full-bodied, and made Keegan smile so wide her cheeks hurt. She’d never get tired of hearing him laugh.
“I also ran errands for Jourdain, traveling occasionally to pick up some book or plant he’d sourced out of state,” Keegan volunteered once his laughter had died down. “But now I’m excited about this new job. I can’t wait to meet my students.”
Jeremiah nodded. “Me too. I only personally know two of mine, the rest are from out of town.”
As she watched, his hand slid down to his belly for a discreet scratch. Normally, she probably wouldn’t have even noticed, but this was the third time he’d made such a move and, still somewhat hyper-aware despite Jeremiah’s outward appearance of health, she couldn’t help but wonder if that itch had something to do with what he’d experienced earlier. Feeling her anxiety spike, she quickly strangled the urge to lurch across the table, grab his shirt, and rip it open so she could see the area for herself.
Jeremiah must have caught her intent gaze, must have seen the look of concern on her face, for he suddenly chuckled and teased, “I promise I don’t have fleas. It’s probably just my new detergent.”
Keegan laughed as well, but, unlike their earlier shared amusement, the sound was now strained. She needed to talk about what happened, but a restaurant bustling with activity certainly wasn’t the place. Her voice edged with trepidation she couldn’t quite hide, she asked, “Can we get out of here? We need to talk.”
His mouth pressed into a hyphen but he nodded and began looking around for their waiter so he could ask for the check. Feeling bad that she wasn’t allowing him to finish his meal when he’d obviously been hungry, she suggested, “We can take the food to go.”
It took twenty nail-biting more minutes of stilted conversation for them to get their dinners packed up and the check paid. As soon as they were out the door, Jeremiah asked, “I fucked up everything today, didn’t I? I had no right to question you like that. I’m so sorry, Keegan.”
Realizing she’d given him the wrong idea with her statement that they needed to talk, Keegan adamantly shook her head, “No, no. You’re fine. We need to talk away from curious ears, that’s all.”
The gust of air he expelled was relieved, and if she hadn’t been so wired with worry, Keegan might have smiled. Instead, she grabbed his hand and pulled him along, knowing that such a move would have been an impossibility if Jeremiah hadn’t allowed it. He was just too tall and heavily muscled for her to brute force her way with him. A point that was brought into vivid clarity when she stumbled to an abrupt halt, Jeremiah having drawn up short upon reaching her car. Turning, she saw the dubious look on his handsome face as he eyed her compact.
“We can talk privately in here,” she prompted, urging him on with another tug to his hand which failed to even budge him.
“I don’t know if I’ll be able to hear anything you say considering my knees will be up around my ears if I attempt to get into that roller skate.”
The snort of laughter was out before she could stop it, his comment uttered so dryly she couldn’t hold back her amusement. “It’s notthatsmall,” she retorted between chuckles.
Jeremiah was nodding, his eyes still on her car. “Yes. Yes, it is. We should use my rig.”
