Creature of Habit (Book 3) Read Free Page B

Grant confessed.
    Across the room, Genevieve sighed. "Of course she's sure. The question is; if it isn't Amelia’s then who does it belong to?"
    Grant walked around the desk and leaned over the keyboard. He entered in a series of keys, eyes flashing across the screen. He trailed his finger down the monitor, and Ryan's eyes rapidly followed his movements. "No one reported a piece of missing jewelry like this to the police. It's so unusual I'm sure someone would have noticed it missing."
    I turned the piece over in my hand, looking at the intricate craftsmanship. "Look here, under the pin, there's a mark." The mark had dulled with age and the pin was heavily tarnished. I handed it over to Grant, hoping he could see it better with his enhanced eyesight.
    "It looks like an H, etched into the silver." He tossed the brooch to Ryan, who flipped it over to look at the back.
    "It's a needle in a haystack but,"—he paused, running his thumbnail over the marking—"at least we have a needle. It's better than nothing."
    We all agreed and discussed how to best find the jeweler who created the brooch. “Can’t be that hard,” Genevieve said. "Grant, let me take the brooch downstairs to Amelia's desk. I may be able to find something." She snatched the pin out of his hand and disappeared.
    "I’ll help," Ryan said, hopping up and following her.
    He was barely out of the room when Grant moved quickly around the desk and plucked me from my spot. A second later I found myself nestled close to him on the couch. My head spun from the speed. I pushed my back against the side of the seat and spread my legs, inviting Grant to rest his head on my stomach. He settled in easily, reaching back for my hand, which I gave to him, while burying the other in his messy hair.
    "Are you worried?" I asked him, trying to pull him away from his brooding. Although his hands had been connected to me every time we were near one another, his eyes had been distant and brooding. Focused on Olivia and Caleb.
    He sighed and closed his eyes, as though he was afraid to admit it. I continued to stroke his hair, and eventually he confessed, "Less worried, more terrified."
    My heart broke a little for this strong, powerful, incredible man lying across my body. He loved Olivia so much. I felt his thumb move slowly across my wrist as he took another deep breath. "I know you don’t feel it’s your place to share the others pasts, but this one time make an exception. Tell me about Olivia, something I don't know."
    "Hmmm…" he murmured, "She's smart. And caring. More human than the rest of us put together."
    I tugged his hair. "Something I don't know."
    He looked up at me and said, "There’s nothing much to go on.”
    “She told me you found her in a barn?”
    “Yes, and took her back to the rest of the coven.”
    “Weird,” I said.
    “What?”
    “Everyone else has this traumatic story. You were attacked at the work camp. Ryan and Sebastian…” I shuddered.
    “Ryan told you?”
    “Yes.” I waited for him to comment on that, but he said nothing. “But Olivia told me she has no recollection before coming to in that swamp and that your face was the first vision she had. How is that even possible?”
    “Miles thinks she may have been disoriented from the visions.” He closed his eyes and nuzzled against my chest. “Add that in with whatever trauma she experienced when she died. Her mind may have just blocked it out in a desperate need for self-preservation.”
    We sat quietly for a while. I was consumed by Olivia, her history, or lack thereof, and her current whereabouts. Grant was trying to distract himself with me because there was little he could do at the moment. He stroked my skin, in a comfortable, non-sexual way. The way two people act once they surpassed a level of intimacy.
    I absently pulled and twisted Grant's thick hair in my fingers. I looked across his room, still fascinated by his history, the objects he chose to carry with him towards the future.