by Keri Arthur
“The difference between you and me,” he said, “is the fact that I’m as deadly as they are.”
“I can protect myself,” I said softly.
He didn’t say anything to that, but he didn’t have to. I could taste his disbelief in the air. “Tell me about this Angus you keep mentioning,” he said instead.
I shrugged again and picked up my fork, scooping up some more cake. It wasn’t doing a lot to ease the ache of losing all I’d held dear, but at least it stopped my stomach from rumbling. “We were going to meet him when the truck hit us. I contacted him again after I got out of the hospital and arranged another meeting. You saw the end result of that encounter.”
“How much did you tell him before you met him?”
“He knew we were investigating the cleansed towns.”
“If he was involved in the death of your friend, then meeting him alone was a pretty stupid move.”
According to him, my life was full of stupid moves. I squashed down my irritation and forked up more cake. If he didn’t hurry, he was going to miss out on his share—and given the barbed comments he kept flinging my way, maybe he deserved to.
“He’s a sea dragon. Rainey was killed in the middle of nowhere. My guess is that there was no direct involvement.”
“You can’t be sure of that.”
No, I couldn’t. But in this case, I trusted my instincts. Angus might be peripherally involved with whatever was happening, but I didn’t think it went as deep as murder—I’d overheard him say as much in the van. “I’m going to interview him tonight.”
“We should go get the netbook first. Just in case those men decide to do a little desk investigation of their own.”
“It won’t do them any good. I wasn’t using my desk.” I hesitated, but couldn’t help adding, “I’m not that stupid.”
Amusement twinkled in his eyes. “So there’s hope for you yet?”
“Apparently,” I muttered, unable to keep up with this man’s sudden mood changes. Although I couldn’t be annoyed by this one. Or that half smile. I glanced at my watch. “We’ve hours to spare.”
“But good disguises take time. Finish the cake, then I’ll show you some magic.”
I looked up into his dark eyes and saw the devilry there. I felt myself smiling. “Are you sure you’re capable of magic after being locked up for so long?”
“Why don’t you come back to my car and find out?”
Anytime, I thought, and I threw the fork down on the table. “Consider the cake finished.”
He rose and took my hand, pulling me gently upward. “Then let’s go.”
As I followed him out the door, I let my gaze wander up the length of him—admiring the way his jeans clung to his butt and emphasized the long, lean power of his legs. The silent, easy-flowing way he moved. The shoulders that hinted at the strength of the man, both within and without.
He reminded me of a predator, and I guess in many ways he was.
But however dangerous Death might be, however moody he might be, there was one inescapable fact.
He was also damn hot.
A wig, some artfully applied makeup, and a change of clothes later, and Damon did indeed look like someone else. He now looked and walked like a man twenty years older, and if I hadn’t seen the transformation myself, I wouldn’t have believed it. I certainly wouldn’t have looked twice at him on the street.
I watched him disappear into my office building, then glanced up and down the street. I couldn’t see anyone acting suspiciously, let alone anyone who seemed to be watching the entrance, but that didn’t mean anything. I hadn’t seen the watcher at the Ritz until it was almost too late.
Of course, Damon had insisted that I also undergo a change of appearance, which is why I was sitting at the bus stop with blond hair, a low-cut top that exposed way too much breast, and a miniskirt that bordered on indecent—all courtesy of a recent shopping spree. Damon’s theory was that if they were looking at my body they weren’t looking at my face, but the twinkle in his eyes as he’d said it suggested the bad guys might not be the only ones enjoying the look.
That was the sole reason I’d actually agreed to wear the outfit. Janelle might have warned me not to play with Death, but the inner dragon just wasn’t listening.
Not that I really expected anything to develop between us, because Damon seemed to be the ultimate loner. Besides, I knew from experience that dragons of his caliber didn’t consider half-breeds like me to be anything more than playthings.
I turned the page of the newspaper I’d been pretending to read and tried to ignore the rising chill in the air. I might have a dragon’s fire, but that didn’t mean I was immune to the cold. Especially when—like now—I couldn’t actually use my flame to warm myself.
Sharp music cut through the roar of passing traffic and it took me a moment to realize it was the cell phone Damon had given me.
Why Damon actually had spare cell phones sitting in his vehicle I couldn’t say—although it did seem to be packed with all sorts of useful items. Like spare clothes for himself, phones, the makeup that disguised us both, and a variety of guns and other weapons—although I’m not sure I was supposed to see the latter. Death might be a dragon, but he wasn’t beyond using human firepower.
I reached into the oversized red purse at my feet and grabbed the phone.
“Damon?” I said, without actually looking at the number.
“Wrong man,” Leith said. “And what the hell have you been getting involved in, woman?”
“Ah. You heard about the fires.” I didn’t bother asking Leith how he’d gotten the number. Janelle’s psychic abilities ran to the oddest bits of information sometimes. Like telling me that Angus wouldn’t be at his friend’s boat until tonight, but not telling me where he actually was this afternoon.
“Yeah, I heard about the fires,” Leith said, his voice dry. “Kinda hard to miss when it’s all over the news. You need help?”
“I’ve got help. Although don’t be surprised if I call you back in a day or so to take you up on your offer.”
“We’re always here.” He paused, and the sound of shuffling papers came down the line for several seconds before he added, “Haven’t been able to find out much more on that Angus fellow, but I’ve got some information on muertes.”
“And?”
“They’re trained assassins who work under the direction of the Council of Dragons.”
“To what aim, do you know?”
“According to my source, it’s the muertes’ role to enforce the council’s edicts and punish those who break the rules.”
Enforce being a more pleasant word for kill. “I wonder if that also includes rogue draman towns?”
“From what I understand, the muerte don’t leave evidence. If they had destroyed any of those towns, we wouldn’t even know about them.”
It didn’t mean the council hadn’t destroyed the towns, just that there was no evidence of it. And yet, if the council was behind the cleansings, why would Damon now be investigating them? Then I frowned, remembering the words of the oddly familiar-sounding stranger who’d talked to Angus in the van. He’d said something about Damon’s presence not being the result of direct council orders, meaning that this was either a private investigation or something else entirely was going on.
“Anything else?”
“Yeah, my source said don’t fuck with them. If the man you call Death is one of them, you might be wise to get the hell away while you can.”
“Leith, he’s investigating the cleansings just like I am. Right now, I need him. Or at least I need the information he’s holding.”
“And are you sure it’s worth the risk? We already know these bastards will do whatever it takes to get the job done, no matter what—or who—gets in the way. I’d hate to see you follow the same path as Rainey.”
I’d hate to see me going the way of Rainey, too, but it wasn’t like I could walk away. I wouldn’t be able to live with myself if I didn’t do eve
rything I could to save her soul. And if that meant endangering my own life, then so be it. I owed her that, and more, for all the years she’d protected me from the worst of our clique’s ravages.
“But with the muerte by my side, there’s less chance of me ending up like that, isn’t there?”
“Being with him didn’t stop your apartment—or your brother’s—from being torched.”
“At least I wasn’t in them, Leith.”
“But you could have been.”
A point I couldn’t argue, so I simply said, “Did you uncover anything on Seth Knightly?”
“I’ve found several people who swear he died in a car accident, but there’s nothing official. I don’t suppose you know where the accident happened? It might make hunting the death certificate easier.”
“Sorry, I can’t help you there. I was too busy dancing in celebration to actually listen to details.” I glanced across the road, just to check whether Damon had reappeared yet, and found myself staring into the blue-eyed gaze of the stranger who’d chased me from the Ritz not three hours before.
My heart leaped to the vicinity of my throat, and it took every ounce of control to keep meeting his gaze, and to not react to his presence. To trust that the subtle changes Damon had made would make the difference between that man recognizing me and not.
“Leith, I have to go.”
There must have been a touch of panic in my voice, because he said, very quickly, “Problem?”
“I’ve just spotted someone I need to talk to.” The man was still staring, and sweat was beginning to trickle down my spine. So much for the chill in the air. “I’ll ring you back later.”
“Make sure you do, or we’re coming after you.”
I hung up then crossed my legs. The miniskirt rode up my thigh even farther and the guard’s gaze slipped downward. A smile touched his thin lips and, for one panicked moment, I thought he was going to cross the street to talk to me.
But he turned away and moved to the bus stop near the Fifth Street intersection, leaning against the outside wall of the shelter and taking a newspaper from his coat pocket. He’d positioned himself in such a way that he could see both the building entrance and me.
It might not mean he suspected my identity, but it sure as hell made things awkward. I dialed my phone’s twin and listened to it ring.
“Hello?” The urbane voice that answered was Damon’s and yet not. Like his looks, it could easily have belonged to someone older. In the background, I could hear Robyn talking and other phones ringing. Our office was never quiet, even on slow news days. With the recent spate of fires, today wouldn’t have been one of them.
“Our Ritz watcher has just turned up. He’s standing at the bus stop near the entrance, reading a paper.”
“Has he spotted you?”
“He saw me before he moved to the bus stop. He hasn’t made a move toward me, so he may not have recognized me.”
“Or he’s just waiting to see if I turn up or if you’ll lead him to me.”
“Could be.” He had more chance of understanding the motives of the bad guys than I did. He played in their world, after all. “So what do we do?”
“You need to move. If he follows, we know he’s recognized you.”
“And if he does follow, what will you do? Take him out?”
“It’s what I do, Mercy.”
A shiver went through me at the matter-of-fact way he said that. And he would do it—without thought, without remorse. But knowing someone was a killer and actually standing by and watching them do it were two entirely different things.
“It’s broad daylight and rush hour. You can’t risk that.” I wasn’t sure whether the slight edge in my voice was fear or anger, or even a touch of both. “And it makes you no better than them.”
He snorted softly. “I don’t attack innocents. That makes me a whole lot different.”
“It’s only a matter of degree. And I won’t be a party to it.”
“I didn’t ask you to join my investigation, remember?”
“No, I asked you to join mine. For the moment, I’m the one with all the information—information you apparently need.”
“Which I now have, thanks to your pretty friend.”
I smiled grimly. “The information is coded. Just try and read it without me.”
His voice was oddly weary as he said, “Letting the bad guys live almost never works out, Mercy.”
“I don’t care.”
“You will if they get hold of you later on.”
Maybe I would. No, I definitely would. But I’d regret standing by and watching Damon ruthlessly get rid of the guard even more. Killing might be an accepted part of dragon mentality, but murder was very different to killing in self-defense. It left a stain on the soul that was hard to erase. My brother had spent the last few years of his life living close to the edge in an effort to escape it. He might not have any remorse for his part in helping hunt down the men responsible for killing his half-brother’s soul mate, but the guilt of taking a life lay deep all the same—even if he refused to acknowledge it to himself or to others. I didn’t want that weight, didn’t want the regret. I had enough problems in my life as it was.
“Question him, restrain him, do what it takes to stop him from following us. But don’t kill him.” I hesitated, then added softly, “Please.”
He didn’t answer immediately, but when he finally did, his voice was flat and filled with steel. “This once, and against my better judgment. Walk down to Fifth Street and head right. When you come to Minna Street take another right and head through to Mary. Just keep walking. If he’s following you, you’ll spot him.”
I nodded, remembered he was on the phone, not in front of me, and said, “Then what?”
“Keep walking. I’ll go out the side entrance and take care of our problem a few streets away.”
I drew in a deep breath and let it out slowly. It didn’t do a whole lot to calm the sudden rush of nerves. “Okay.”
“Give me five minutes to find the exit to Minna Street.”
“Will do.”
I hung up, popped the phone back into my bag, then continued to read the paper. Or at least, I tried to. But every nerve was tingling with the awareness of the man across the road. It was hard to curb the instinct to run, and yet that was the one thing I couldn’t do. When five minutes had passed, I made a show of glancing at my watch and making a face, then grabbed my bag and left, forcing myself to saunter down the street as if I didn’t have a care in the world. Or a madman on my tail. Unfortunately for me, this part of town was either populated by office buildings or parking lots, so I couldn’t pretend to stare into storefront windows and use the glass to check for pursuit. And yet he was following me. I could feel him. Could feel the heat of him, and smell his cindery scent.
I strolled down Fifth Street, matching my pace to the couple in front of me, not wanting to feel so alone. A lazy sea breeze swirled around us, and though I shivered I wasn’t entirely sure it was due to the chill in the wind. I needed to warm up, and that was the one thing I couldn’t do right now. Even if that guard didn’t recognize me, he was close enough to know I wasn’t human, and that just might be enough to have him paying a lot more attention to everything I did. Besides, a dragon’s flame was as individual as its scent.
I came to the Minna Street intersection and hesitated. The couple I’d been following continued down Fifth Street, leaving me feeling suddenly bereft. Ahead, Minna Street tunneled through my paper’s building, becoming dominated by shadows and artificial lighting, with a bright patch of sunshine beckoning on the other side. It was the perfect place for an ambush, but it certainly wasn’t where Damon was planning his.
I swallowed heavily, my nerves crawling and sweat tracking down my back. I glanced back at the traffic, using the moment to see not only what the traffic was doing, but where my follower was.
The road was clear and the guard had paused near the parking garage’s exit. I crossed the road q
uickly. The minute I was out of my follower’s line of sight, I broke into a run, bolting for that patch of sunshine and the false sense of security it offered.
When the sun hit my face, I slowed, my breathing ragged more from fear than the short run. I was so tempted to look behind me, but that would warn him that I was on to to him. Although, if he’d witnessed my mad dash through the tunnel, he’d probably have guessed anyway.
I passed two doorways and walked under the fire escape. I had no sense of Damon, but he’d had more than enough time to find these exits. For a moment I wondered if he’d simply taken the netbook and left, but something inside me said no. He wanted to stop the people wiping out the draman towns as much as I did, and I was currently his quickest way of doing that.
I flexed my fingers and tried to relax as I came to another cross street. I paused, looking right and left, not really wanting to continue down this lonely-looking street. Not until I knew for sure whether my pursuer was following. I bit my lip then crossed to the sidewalk on the other side of Minna Street. In the process, I casually glanced sideways. The street was empty. The guard hadn’t followed me.
Relief washed over me, leaving me shaking. I took a deep breath and released it slowly, then continued down Minna Street as I’d been instructed.
I wasn’t alone for long. A familiar warmth crept over my skin, chasing the chill from my flesh as quickly as an inner fire. I smiled slightly as Damon fell into step beside me, and felt any remaining tension slide away. He might be just as dangerous as the men who were hunting us, but he made me feel a whole lot safer.
“He’s not following,” he said, stating the obvious as he glanced sideways at me. “I’ll accept your apology for saying the disguise wouldn’t work.”
I smiled. “I don’t think it’s fair to penalize me for not remembering men can be sidetracked by a small pair of breasts and a whole lot of leg.”
“An apology is not a penalty. And the breasts may be small, but the legs are magnificent.”
The compliment had heat flushing my cheeks. God, anyone would think I was a giddy virgin—and that hadn’t been the case for more years than I cared to remember. “Well, I’m glad I have one good feature.”
