Page 27 of Demon Loved (The Witches of Mingus Mountain #5)

He’d done it, even though all of his instincts had been screaming at him not to succumb, not to lean over and press his mouth against Brianna McAllister’s sweet, full lips.

Was it this human body he wore? Had its own needs somehow managed to overtake his common sense, making him do something that under normal circumstances, he would never have even considered?

Belshegar couldn’t begin to say. The only thing he knew for certain was that there was no coming back from what had just happened.

If he truly were Bill Garrett, the man he was pretending to be, then he supposed he could have called an airport shuttle to take him to Phoenix and get him safely away. Unfortunately, he didn’t have that option, cowardly as such an escape might have been.

He was bound to stay in Jerome until the artifacts were found.

But even though he knew he had made a colossal mistake…even though he knew there was no possible future for him and Brianna… all he could think about was how much he wanted to kiss her again.

And they had kissed one more time before they rose and put on their hiking boots and socks, and followed the path of Oak Creek until the passage became somewhat treacherous, and Bree told him this was where they should turn around and head home.

Neither of them had spoken very much, and he could tell she was lost in her own thoughts, doing her best to process what had happened.

For all he knew, she was berating herself just as much as he; while she wasn’t an extradimensional being pretending to be mortal, she was still a witch with a father who was a little more than that, and no doubt she thought that getting involved with a civilian who lived so far away wasn’t a very wise thing to do.

And yet, here they both were.

It was nearing five when they reached the parking lot, which was now empty. They’d passed one couple on the trail and heard voices in another spot, but otherwise, they seemed to have had the creek and its accompanying path all to themselves.

Probably a good thing. Belshegar wasn’t sure if he could have managed to maintain his composure if they’d been surrounded by humans wanting to chat about the trail and the scenery, or whatever inane subject such interlopers might have thought of.

When that thought passed through his mind, however, he knew he wasn’t being entirely fair. Under other circumstances, he might have found such conversations enlightening, since he learned a little bit more about humans every time he had a chance to talk with them.

Today, however, he only wanted to climb into Brianna’s ancient, lumbering hulk of a vehicle and get out of here.

It wasn’t until after they’d pulled out of the parking lot and were driving back down the highway that she spoke again.

“If you — if you think that was a mistake, I understand. We can just be casual. I know starting up a long-distance thing is kind of a lot.”

His mind wanted to tell him it had been a mistake. His heart, on the other hand, knew better.

“It wasn’t a mistake,” he replied at once, then reached over to touch her hand briefly where it rested on the steering wheel. “I’ve felt drawn to you since the first time we met. But….”

“But your life is in Los Angeles,” she finished for him. “I get it.”

Well, she thought she did. The truth was just a bit more complicated.

“It isn’t much of a life,” he said frankly, and she sent him a sideways look, obviously surprised by the comment.

To be fair, he was a little startled himself.

True, he’d been talking about his existence on his own plane, and not this mythical life in L.A.

that he’d concocted for himself, and yet the bones of the remark had been true enough.

Perhaps once he’d been content to tend his gardens and just be, but ever since Elena had summoned him that first time so many years ago, he’d found himself increasingly fascinated by all the intricacies of human existence, by its utter messiness and passion and vibrancy.

Every time he returned to his own plane, he tried to tell himself that this was better, that the peace and calm and gentle monotony were far preferable to being caught up in so many complications.

Those inner arguments had rung more and more hollow as the years progressed.

But what in the world was he supposed to do? Surely he couldn’t be contemplating staying here and pretending to be Bill Garrett for the rest of his days.

Even if such a thing was physically possible, Belshegar had a feeling the voice might have a few words to say on the subject, none of them what he wanted to hear.

“I…stay at home most of the time,” he continued, since he could tell Brianna had been waiting for him to elaborate.

“Why?”

Another lie, although this one was at least somewhat close to the truth.

“Because it seemed simpler that way.”

She went silent then, graceful brows pulling together slightly as she maneuvered her oversized vehicle with grace and skill along the winding road. “You don’t strike me as an antisocial person. Maybe not a party animal, but….”

Belshegar hadn’t heard the phrase before, but he could guess at its meaning well enough…especially since he’d met a few specimens, most notably Elena’s cousin Tony Castillo, who fit that description well enough based on their behavior at her wedding reception.

“That’s because I’m here,” he said. “Jerome feels…different.”

Now Brianna chuckled, a laugh that sounded natural enough. “Well, that’s true. Jerome does have a certain magic.”

A lot of magic, considering how many witch-folk lived there. However, her comment wasn’t anything that would have raised eyebrows among the civilian population, not when they used that word in plenty of situations that had nothing to do with real magic.

“It does,” he agreed, then surprised himself by adding, “And so do you.”

Her lips — those beautiful, kissable lips — pursed for a moment. “I don’t know about that. But…thank you.”

They left it there as they continued to drive through the canyon. Strangely, though, Belshegar thought they’d both come to an agreement…even if neither of them wanted to discuss the topic further.

The next morning, the guilt hadn’t abated much — especially since he and Brianna had kissed goodnight when he saw her to her door after an extended dinner at a place in Page Springs called Up the Creek — but he knew he had to do what he could to find the artifacts.

Doing so was the only way to atone for the way he’d all but ignored his mission and instead had focused on spending as much time as possible with the woman he loved.

It was the first time the word “love” had passed through his mind. As much as he wanted to ignore it, or tell himself he was making this out to be much more than it was, he knew better. He loved Brianna McAllister.

And he had no idea what to do about it.

Today, luckily, he’d been granted something of a reprieve, just because she’d told him she would be busy for most of the day, first watching the gallery because the owner had business down in Phoenix, and then teaching several music lessons late in the afternoon.

He didn’t want to think of being away from Brianna as a blessing or anything close to it, but he knew if she was safely occupied elsewhere and he wasn’t distracted by her presence, then he’d have a much better chance of locating the artifacts.

He had his usual breakfast of toast and fruit, accompanied by green tea, and then settled down to strategize.

A few online searches had told him it wouldn’t be as easy as simply typing in Angela McAllister’s name and discovering her current address.

A helpful comment in an online forum told him one could usually look up the owner of a property by typing in an address or parcel number, but he didn’t have that, obviously.

No, he’d have to use the power of deduction.

It seemed clear enough to him that her home must be located somewhere on Paradise Lane. The street wasn’t all that large, and probably comprised twenty houses at most. He already knew it wasn’t the big yellow house with the green trim, since that one belonged to Levi and Hayley McAllister.

And although he hadn’t particularly noticed a pink house — probably because it was too small to be a viable home for the clan’s prima and her consort — he also knew to ignore that one when he saw it, since it belonged to Brianna’s older brother, Shane.

So that narrowed things down to roughly eighteen houses or so. Most likely, he could eliminate even more based purely on size, since there were only about five or six that appeared to be around the same square footage as Levi’s home.

Also, Brianna’s father had already seen him sketching on the street and appeared to have given him his blessing to continue with such activities — and, perhaps, had told his neighbors not to be alarmed by a stranger standing around in their neighborhood and drawing this house or that — so Belshegar had no reason to believe anyone who lived there would have much of a problem if he made a repeat appearance today.

That was why he picked up his sketchbook, slid two pencils into the spiral binding, and headed out of the hotel a little before eleven. He thought by that hour everyone should be up and about and off to work or school, so there would be less chance of him disturbing the residents.

Or being seen by them.

Sure enough, Paradise Lane appeared utterly deserted when he arrived.

He paused in front of the yellow house that was Brianna’s childhood home and surveyed the rest of the houses on the street.

The white one with the green shutters appeared to be the largest, but there was also a home several doors down that nearly rivaled it in size, and boasted a fancy turret with stained-glass windows as well.

Either of them seemed to be likely candidates to be the prima’s house, and Belshegar frowned, not sure which one he should try first.