Page 22 of The Dark Hiss of Magic
Thane returned the kiss. ‘My love muffin.’
Good grief. I barely managed to avoid rolling my eyes. I turned until I was facing him properly, pressed myself against him and kissed him again. This time I didn’t pull back – and neither did Thane. He deepened the kiss and his arm tightened. A thrill rippled through me and there was a familiar tightening in my groin. Thane’s signature scent was making my senses swim.
The harsh strip lighting, the faint aroma of grease and coffee and the cold tiled floor of the café faded into the background. It had been a long time since I’d experienced a kiss as sensual as this.
The waiter coughed awkwardly. ‘I’ll leave you to it,’ he said. ‘It’s sweet to see older folks like you still getting it on.’
Thane and I broke apart immediately at his words, while the waiter strolled away without a care in the world. I didn’t turn around to look at him; instead I stared at Thane and he stared back at me. There were two points of colour high on his cheekbones and I knew I was similarly flushed.
The café door jangled, announcing the arrival of a new customer. The loud chatter of the three women who tottered in was more than enough to break the last dregs of the metaphorical spell.
‘I should have another coffee,’ Thane muttered. ‘I’ve had far too much to drink tonight.’
‘Uh-huh.’ Feeling more awkward than I had in years, I put my hands in my pockets. This was ridiculous; I was a middle-aged woman, not a teenager playing games. ‘I should go home. I’ve got to return to the mortuary tomorrow morning.’
Thane eyed me. ‘Shall I meet you there?’
I shook my head. ‘Another person will likely only confuse the situation. I’ll be more successful on my own. But tomorrow is Wednesday – why don’t I meet you here at half-past one? We can grab Knox Thunderstick before his Blue Tattoos set begins. Between the two of us we should be able to encourage him to talk to us.’
Thane glanced at the poster. ‘Cos suits him better. Who the hell calls themselves Thunderstick? Even the sort of druid who breaks into mortuaries for kicks should have more style than that.’
I smiled faintly. ‘At least we’ll find out who Mr Thunderstick really is tomorrow – and hopefully John Doe, too.’ I nodded at Thane and raised my hand in brief, albeit clumsy, farewell.
Once I was outside and walking away from the café, I touched my still-burning cheeks and my lips. Damn.
Chapter
Nine
For reasons known only to himself, He Who Roams Wide chose to accompany me on my return visit to the mortuary. It was in a central location that I knew the sleek black cat visited of his own accord, so perhaps he wanted to ensure my safety. Or perhaps he was merely bored and wanted something to do. Either way, I was glad of the company and I knew that his presence wouldn’t provoke anyone in the way that the unfamiliar figure of Thane Barrow might.
I hoped rather than expected that a Fetch from the witches’ council would be in attendance. It wouldn’t be easy to persuade a council official to tell me any relevant information, but their presence would ensure that John Doe’s death was being taken seriously.
That was all I wanted to happen, and I had dressed accordingly in smart black trousers and a crisp white shirt instead of my fuzzy, cat-lady attire. Witches who rose to the lofty heights of the council approved of businesslike, transactional relationships with important and serious people. They weren’t likely to offer time or information to someone who wandered in off the street in a colourful old jumper covered in cat hair.
I’d even brushed my purple hair and smoothed it down with an anti-frizz potion that had been lurking in the back of my bathroom cabinet for months. I didn’t bother doing anything about the dark circles under my eyes. I’d had a restless night of tossing and turning and my disturbed sleep showed on my face, even though I knew I had enough grim enthusiasm and dark energy to attack the day.
There was a glimmer of sunlight when we set out, but once He Who Roams Wide and I arrived at Mathers Street it had been subsumed by grey skies and a morose drizzle. Such was the way of a dreary Scottish winter. It didn’t affect the cat, who darted through the streets and leapt across puddles; he was having the time of his life. His attitude rubbed off on me and by the time I pushed open the mortuary doors, hastily stepping out of the path of two Redcaps who were just leaving, I was buoyed by my sense of purpose. I was sure that I’d learn John Doe’s real identity by the end of the day.
Cindy was sitting behind the front desk in exactly the same position and with the same dour expression she’d displayed the previous day. If nothing else, I admired her consistency. I was also pleased that she didn’t look surprised when I appeared; Dr Singh must have warned her that I was planning to return.
‘I preferred what you were wearing yesterday,’ she grunted.
I didn’t take offence; I preferred my comfy cat-lady clothes, too. I gave her my most disarming smile. ‘It was an impromptu visit yesterday. I thought that I ought to be more respectful today.’
‘The dead don’t care.’
My smile didn’t dim. ‘Nobody actually wears black for the dead, they wear it for the living. It’s a way of saying that a life might be over but that life still mattered.’
She gave a long-suffering sigh. ‘I hear a lot of poppsychology when I’m behind this desk. I don’t know why I thought you’d be different.’ She peered down. ‘Is that acat?’
I expected her to launch into a long lecture about why animals were forbidden from the mortuary hallways, but instead she jumped up and launched herself towards He Who Roams Wide. ‘My goodness, you’re a handsome boy!’
I blinked in surprise, but the cat took her admiration as his due. He butted his head against her leg and miaowed, charming her into immediate submission. I should have brought him along yesterday; I’d have saved myself some money.
Cindy cooed over him for several moments until eventually I cleared my throat. ‘Is Dr Singh here?’ I asked. ‘Can I go through?’
She didn’t look up. ‘Yes, yes, on you go. He’s in his office. Third door on the right. How about a treat?’
