Ceremony in Death - J. D. Robb [120]
“All right. Maybe it’s best to give them both time to stew. We’ll swing by Isis’s place. May be able to shake her.”
“You’ve got it pretty well wrapped.” Peabody fell into step beside her. “You’ll be able to relax some tonight at the party.”
“Party?” Eve stopped dead. “Mavis’s party? That’s tonight? Hell.”
“So speaks the party animal,” Peabody said dryly. “Personally, I’m looking forward to it. It’s been a shitty week.”
“Halloween’s supposed to be for kids, so they can blackmail adults into forking over junk food. Grown men and women running around in dopey costumes. It’s embarrassing.”
“Actually it’s an old, revered tradition with its roots in earth religions.”
“Don’t get started,” Eve warned as they rode down to the garage. She eyed Peabody suspiciously. “You’re not actually wearing a costume.”
“How else can I guarantee getting my share of candy?” Peabody brushed some lint from the front of her uniform.
The store was dark, and so was the apartment. No one answered the knock on any door. Eve considered, checked her watch. “I’m going to stake it out for a couple of hours. I’d rather hit her tonight.”
“She’s probably at the sabbat ceremony.”
“I don’t figure she’s in the mood for naked dancing under the circumstances. I’ll stick. You can catch transpo from here.”
“I can stay.”
“It’s not necessary. If she doesn’t show in a couple hours, I’ll head to Mavis’s.”
“Like that?” Peabody scanned Eve’s faded jeans, worn boots, and battered jacket. “Don’t you want to wear something more…festive?”
“No. I’ll see you there.” Eve climbed back in the car, lowered the window. “So, what are you wearing?”
“It’s a secret,” Peabody said with a grin and walked off to catch a tram home.
“Embarrassing,” Eve decided, and settling back, engaged her ’link. The system put her through to Roarke at his midtown office.
“Just caught me,” he told her, and noted the edge of the steering wheel on the monitor. “Obviously, you’re not at home getting yourself ready for tonight’s festivities.”
“Obviously not. I’ve got a couple more hours here, so I’ll meet you at Mavis’s. We can duck out early.”
“I can see you’re already looking forward to an exciting evening.”
“Halloween.” She glanced over as a ghoul, a six-foot pink rabbit, and a mutant transexual crossed the street in front of her car. “I just don’t get it.”
“Darling Eve, for some it’s simply an excuse to be foolish. For others it’s a serious holy day. Samhain, the beginning of Celtic winter. The beginning of the year, the turn of it with the old dying and the new yet unborn. On this night the veil between is very thin.”
“Boy.” She gave a mock shudder. “Now I’m spooked.”
“Tonight we’ll concentrate on using it as an excuse to be foolish. Want to get drunk and have wild sex?”
“Yeah.” Her lips twitched. “That sounds pretty good.”
“We could get started now. A little ’link sex.”
“That would be illegal over an official line. Besides, you never know when Dispatch is going to get nosey.”
“Then I won’t mention how much I want to get my hands on you. My mouth on you. How exciting it is to feel you under me, when I’m inside you and you arch back, struggling to breathe and fist your hands in my hair.”
“No, don’t mention it,” she told him as the muscles in her thighs tingled and went lax. “I’ll see you in a couple hours. We’ll, ah, go home early. Then you could mention it.”
“Eve?”
“Yeah?”
“I adore you.” With a silky, satisfied smile on his face, he disengaged.
She blew out a long, slow breath. “When am I going to get used to this?” she muttered.
The sex was mind-scrambling enough. She’d never thought of the act as any more than a necessary and mildly pleasurable physical release. Until Roarke. He could turn her dry-mouthed and needy with a look. But more was the hold he had on her heart in that firm, possessive grip that was alternately comforting and terrifying.
She’d never understood the demanding power of love.
Frowning, she looked back at the apartment across the street. Hadn’t that been what she’d seen there?