“You better,” she said.

He kissed her again, quick, on the cheek.

And though it hurt, he stood up and walked to the door. Before he left, he turned around and looked at her one more time. She lay on her side on the bed, looking pretty as Christmas in her gray skirt and white lacy blouse.

“Pray for me,” he said.

“I do, every night.”

“What do you pray for about me?”

She tucked the pillow under her head.

“Oh, the usual things. That you’ll be safe, that you’ll do good work, that you’ll help the people who need helping. I always pray you’ll remember God loves you. And I always pray you’ll remember I love you.”

“You ever pray that I behave myself?”

She shrugged. “I try not to,” she said, “But sometimes I slip and one comes out. I don’t want you to think deep down I don’t trust you. I wouldn’t be marrying you if I didn’t trust you. Sometimes, though, I don’t trust everybody else out there.”

“I don’t want you to worry. If hanging out with Nora’s shown me anything, I’m done with that part of my life.”

“She sexy?”

Cyrus laughed. “Baby, she is sex on two legs and both those legs are sexy legs. She is sex in a box wrapped in a bow with ‘sex’ written on the bow. If she were a song, she’d be ‘Little Red Corvette.’”

“That’s sexy right there,” Paulina said.

“But when I’m with her…nothing.”

“Nothing?”

He shook his head, almost apologetically. “Nothing. Hanging with her is like hanging with one of the guys. Except it’s easier to talk to her sometimes. That make any sense?”

“Like she’s maybe…a friend?”

“Now I wouldn’t go that far. The woman is ten kinds of crazy.”

Laughing, she said, “Maybe she is. You’d have to be crazy to help a man you barely know solve a case for no pay when she’s got better things she could be doing.”

“Guess I’m crazy, too.”

“Maybe you should pray for her,” Paulina said. “That’ll help you both.”

“Pray for what? That she doesn’t get us both killed?”

Paulina pursed her lips, shook her head. Times like this, he remembered he was marrying an almost-nun.

“Pray for her the things I pray for you. That she’s safe, that she’s happy, that she knows God loves her.”

“I’ll do that,” he said. “If anybody needs prayer, it’s her. If she’s having tea with the devil right now, I wouldn’t be surprised.”

“Selling her soul to him?”

“Nah. If anything, he’s trying to buy his back from her.”

Chapter Twenty-One

Mercedes stepped in through Nora’s front door and immediately slipped out of her shoes. With a graceful slide of her foot, she tucked the shoes—plain rope sandals—next to the door beside the brass umbrella stand. A large and slouchy crochet handbag was slung across her body.

She stepped away from the door and waited for Nora to lock up the house after her.

“I guess a certain vampire told you someone was looking for you,” Nora said.