God's Eye

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God's Eye Page 28

by Scudiere, A. J.


  “What?” He was right behind her. She hadn’t even felt him come up and her heart kicked a little as his voice startled her.

  “No wine bottle opener.”

  “Oh, wait, I have one.” He turned and went into the other bedroom, closing the door behind him. She scanned the place. He was definitely a doors-closed kind of guy. He had left the bedroom door peeked a bit, but that was it. In a moment, he emerged from the room, opener in hand, and closed the door behind him.

  She reached for it. “I won’t even ask why you had a corkscrew in your bedroom.”

  She almost didn’t hear him speaking. The metal was so warm it was nearly hot to the touch. And it was just a basic corkscrew, nothing else. She’d have pegged him for the type to have the latest gadget version. “That’s not a bedroom, it’s the office.”

  “Ah. Then I won’t ask why you have a corkscrew in your office.” The opener cooled right off and she pulled the cork from the wine while he set the plates and silverware on the table.

  In a few moments, they were eating, and for a second her thoughts turned to the meal Allistair had cooked for her, how much more sensual it had been. Not sensual as in sexual, but as in real enjoyment of everything about the food. But that was the problem. He sucked her in. He made her believe things that weren’t true. This was what was real, even if it didn’t taste quite as good. Her sanity was worth it.

  They talked about her day a bit, and she told him she’d spent some time at the library doing work research. She managed not to choke on the word work, which was the only lie in the sentence. She told him about her new friend, and he looked at her quizzically.

  “A librarian, huh?” He sipped at the wine. “That doesn’t really seem like the kind of person you would pick for a friend.”

  “I know. But I like her. I think maybe I was picking my friends wrong before.”

  “Like me?” He grinned.

  “No, not like you.” And there it was. The opening. The new Katharine dove right in. “I wanted to apologize for the way I’ve been acting lately.”

  “What do you mean?” His blue eyes glanced at her from the side.

  “Disappearing for days at a time, closing the door on you. Not returning calls.”

  “You were sick, so I thought it was that. Is there more?”

  How should she say it? How could she? She had been sick, in a way. “Yes, I was. But I didn’t need to be so rude about it. I’m hardly ever sick. And I don’t think I have been at all since my mother passed away. I was pretty grumpy through the whole thing.”

  “Then there’s nothing to apologize for. Next time, I’ll bring you soup.”

  She wanted to smile. She wanted to stop here. And he’d be okay with that. But now she wouldn’t be. “There’s something else.”

  He leaned back and waited. Katharine couldn’t tell what his expression meant, whether he was waiting for the other shoe to drop or if he thought she was going to apologize for something as silly as being sick again.

  She charged in. “When we were first seeing each other, I was seeing someone else, too.”

  He nodded. “Is that it?”

  She stopped, surprised, then wanted to ask him if he’d been seeing someone else too. Instead, one small word came out of her mouth.

  “Yes.”

  His smile lit up his face, blue eyes twinkled, and he ran his hand through his blond hair, ruffling it just enough to not be perfect. “I figured as much.”

  “You did?” She couldn’t have been more surprised. But then she settled herself back. It would come, the part where he said he was seeing someone else too.

  “A beautiful woman like you? Katie, I knew I wasn’t going to just walk in and have you all to myself. I was ready to fight for you.”

  Well, then, he knew more about her own life than she did.

  When he looked her in the eye, she felt heat spread through her. Leaning in, he formed his next words carefully. “You said you were seeing someone. Are you finished with it?”

  “Yes.” The word almost felt as if it had been pulled from her. She couldn’t look away.

  “And you told him this?”

  She nodded.

  “So you’re all mine now?” There was no smile on his face, only deep seriousness. His eyes held hers, and the little voice in her head said this was where she wanted to be. And, more importantly, where she needed to be.

  “Yes, I’m all yours.”

  “Good.”

  • • •

  Allistair was in shock.

  Katharine told him she had seen his real face. She had. Several times, in fact. So why was she just now standing up to him? And why was the fight in her so attractive?

  He sat on the beach in human form. He could have stood here on the other side of the veil, but he wouldn’t have felt the sand or the wind. The sounds of the waves and the birds would have been something that came to him in pure knowledge, but he wouldn’t have been able to experience them.

  Since it seemed his time here was growing short, he wanted to feel all of it. The beach had a smell–the standard saltwater and biology smell, but in Los Angeles it was overlaid with the odor of industry and, where he could afford his beach house, the slight scent of human sweat. It came from the vagrants and street vendors, rollerbladers and skateboarders, and anyone who had been out for a while in the day that was getting just a little too hot. The smell didn’t bother him. It was distinctly human, and somehow, though he wasn’t supposed to, he seemed to enjoy all things human. It was a real shame that humans so rarely did.

  He contemplated quitting his job at Light & Geryon, but that thought only lasted a few minutes. He would have no ready human access to Katharine if he quit. Especially now that she had rejected him.

  That was still a mystery. Somehow she had wanted him so much one day, then called him out the next.

  Zachary was probably responsible somehow. His opponent so often set Allistair up for problems. And it seemed that his bad luck was never just random; no, somehow, though others would lay the trap, Allistair’s failures had always been by his own hand in the end.

  With that thought, he changed his mind again. He wouldn’t quit. He’d take a lesson from Katharine and stay in the game. It wasn’t over yet. And he was determined not to lose her. He couldn’t–the stakes were far too high. He would show up at work when she did, stay in the small room with her, get in her face. Anything to convince her that she couldn’t choose Zachary.

  As though the thought conjured him, Zachary was there. Behind him. Allistair could sense it, even without turning his human head and looking. He wished he was himself. Humans were vulnerable from the back, and having Zachary there made him nervous. “Yes?”

  “She has chosen.”

  He felt the heat come around him, and with his extra senses working beyond human borders it was stronger than the wind. But he stayed still. His hand wasn’t played out yet. “She may have decided for herself, but it isn’t over yet.”

  “Close enough.”

  Allistair closed his eyes; they weren’t necessary. “Did you think I would take her decision to be with you as the final say? That I would turn tail and run? Just quit?”

  “Actually, yes.”

  He could tell from his tone that Zachary had thought exactly that. And that infuriated him.

  He wanted to shimmer through and face Zachary on even ground. He could; he was more than capable. Going back was easy. But he was in the open on the beach. There were at least a hundred people in sight. Humans had rules, and one was that they didn’t just disintegrate, which is how it would appear if he did pass through to the other side. And Zachary had put him in exactly that position. But then again, he had made it easy for his opponent.

  He held himself stiff and didn’t respond. Eventually, Zachary left.

  But Allistair stayed there, unable to move, unable to anchor the angry thoughts that bounced through his head. He sat there in human form and acted like a human–mad that Zachary had called him coward. And
mad that Katharine had rejected him. And even more mad that Zachary might just get her in the end.

  • • •

  Katharine had gotten only a glimpse of Zachary’s place the night before. He’d wanted to stay at her place, but she had wanted to stay with him. Eventually, he relented.

  She’d studied his surroundings as much as she could, wanting to know more about the man. But the doors remained closed. His closet, the office. The book by the bedside was new: Why We Do What We Do: A History of Man. The book itself didn’t interest her, what interested her was that he thought he should read it.

  All through the condo, things were immaculate and sparse. The dishes were stacked neatly in the cupboards–only the few they had used had been loaded in the dishwasher by her own hands. The counters were devoid of any of the normal surface clutter: no toaster in the kitchen, no toothbrush in the bathroom. Aside from the gray patches on the carpet, it was almost as though no one lived there.

  But she hadn’t had much time to wander. She was pulled to him, like always. Somehow she just went under each time he kissed her. It was wild and deep, and she always ended up satisfied but tired. She had fallen asleep immediately last night, and dreamed of bumps and heat from all over the unit.

  In the morning, he had been gone. There was a note saying that he had an early meeting at work, and that there was milk in the fridge and apples on the counter. Sure enough, when she wandered out, they had been there. But the fridge was otherwise empty, and the apples were the only food available.

  Katharine had done a full three-sixty turn in his living room. The door to the office was open, and she peeked inside to see a desk and chair. There was a thin, shiny computer setup and a shelf of sealed paper reams, a few books, and an atlas.

  In the bathroom, there had been a toothbrush left out with a note with just her name. She found toothpaste in a drawer alongside another barely used toothbrush and brushed her teeth at his sink. There was a small thrill in being there without him, but she resisted the urge to do any real snooping. It was enough that he trusted her here alone.

  Given that she had done a short and thankfully private walk of shame this morning–from his door back to her own unit–she had tucked a spare pair of underwear in her purse before she went out with him tonight. They were going to see a movie, then on to dinner. She intended to stay over with him again.

  He kept her talking about the new developments at work, things she found she could only speak briefly about, as she hadn’t been there enough to develop any knowledge of any depth. But soon he had her telling childhood stories in between bites of salmon and risotto.

  He fed her a rich custard with blueberries and talked about their future together. It was the first time she could remember him saying that they would be together. That she could be with him … he even hinted at forever, and she knew that this was exactly what it was supposed to be.

  He called her Katie and held her close, and she managed to talk him into letting her stay at his place again.

  She was curled up beside him, naked and practically comatose, when she felt him jerk upright in the middle of the night.

  Still groggy, she must have known deep down that she was with him, because she didn’t startle to immediate wakefulness herself. But that only lasted a moment.

  It was Zachary’s low voice she heard as it ground out the words, “Get out.”

  And, while she slowly blinked to wakefulness, he came into focus. Sitting naked at the side of the bed, all smooth muscle, he leaned forward and faced what looked like a huge black wolf.

  CHAPTER 19

  Katharine had to go into work. She had to put in an appearance.

  Her father had called and wanted to know why she was missing so much time. Was she really that sick? Why hadn’t she seen a doctor? He asked question after question and the underlying tone all the time was “why do I have to tell you this?” Wasn’t she grown up enough to figure this out for herself?

  What Katharine really wanted to know was why he was so frustrated when it had taken him so long to notice her constant absences. She couldn’t remember a day in her life that her father had taken care of her. Fathers didn’t do that kind of thing. Of course, had she been allowed to watch TV like a normal kid, she would have seen that some fathers did, in fact, take care of others. But hers just asked her questions as if she were mildly retarded. And she had no defense; there were no answers she could give and still look sane.

  She was left saying she felt better and she’d be into work. And she had felt better about the whole thing–until her father pretty much demanded she come back into the building daily.

  Which meant she would face Allistair daily, too.

  Sure enough, when she opened her office door, he was behind his desk, looking like a man who was simply working. She closed the door and stood there in her heels and suit and stared him down.

  He didn’t budge.

  “Why are you still here?” She moved closer to him. He looked her in the eye and his voice was even, if not happy. “Because I need to be.”

  “I’ll fire you.” She stepped forward again. “You can’t.”

  “Wanna bet?” She was nearly in his face, and pissed as hell. She was the boss’s daughter and she’d never really used it to her advantage. Sure, she’d taken what was offered, but she’d never gone in with the idea that she’d get what she wanted because she was Arthur Geryon’s offspring.

  But she turned on her heel and stormed out of her office.

  A lot of her steam got lost while she sat waiting for Sharon to say her father was free. It gave her time to think up why Allistair should be fired. She was armed with a great idea by the time she had finally cooled her heels and had been admitted to stand in front of her father’s desk.

  He, however, opened the conversation with an ambush. “I really like that new assistant of yours. You said he trained quite fast.”

  Her mouth opened like a fish, she was so surprised.

  Her father talked to fill the gap she had left. “I think it’s time to promote him. He should get his own office in research. I think the one next to yours is open.”

  This time she balked. “No! I actually came up here to tell you that you should fire him.”

  “For God’s sakes, why? I thought he was great.”

  “No, Dad. I think he trained so fast because he used to work for Gottlieb. In fact, I imagine he came straight here from that job–and with their blessings. They’re an investing firm and I think they planted him here. And foolishly, I just trained him how to get into all our systems. I don’t think he was an errand boy there. I think he’s …”

  “Really?”

  “Yes.” That would do it. There was nothing her father despised more than underhanded tactics. Except, of course, if he could find a way to justify them for himself. He wouldn’t stand for this. Katharine waited.

  It didn’t take long. “We can’t have that.” “No.” She smiled.

  “Now that we’ve taught him what we know, we need to change tacks.”

  She faltered. And waited.

  Arthur Geryon spoke again. “If he is checking us out and we cut him loose, he’ll go back and tell them what he knows. We’ll have to keep him here. In fact, I think you should keep working with him. He’s in your office, isn’t he?”

  This was not going the way she wanted. But when she saw her father was waiting for her response, she nodded.

  “You keep an eye on him. I didn’t get that impression from him at all, that he was a corporate spy. However, if you think so, you stay on him and see if you can find some proof. Though I must say, I’ll be very disappointed if you do.”

  She sighed.

  Her father kept going. “In light of this, I think it best that we not promote him right now. So let’s keep him right where he is. Don’t say anything to him.”

  That was it. He had turned his attention back to the papers waiting on his desk and she had been dismissed.

  Walking out, she felt like she ha
d been hit by a stun gun. She had gone in with what she thought was a good plan and walked out with Allistair sewn even tighter into his position. Gaining some ire, she marched herself back down to her office like a good soldier. And a pissed one.

  When she entered, she once again closed the door behind her but didn’t say anything. Allistair looked up at her and didn’t speak until she went to sit behind her own desk. “It didn’t work, did it?”

  “Of course not.” Her head snapped up. How could he have known it wouldn’t work? “I don’t know what you did to him, but you stay away from my father!”

  He nodded. “Your father is safe. You’re the only one in jeopardy.”

  Her heart stilled. Maybe she didn’t like speaking openly about this after all. “You say that so calmly, like it means nothing to you.”

  “On the contrary, it means everything. More than you can know.” His eyes seemed to heat up as they looked at her, and that worried her even more.

  She turned back to her work, even though she wanted to ask him, “Now what?” but she was too afraid of the answer. She was afraid he’d tell her the truth.

  • • •

  She didn’t go home that night.

  Allistair had been a perfect gentleman all day–in deed at least. As she thought back to the few times they talked, she got mad. He’d answered all her questions. He’d had a conversation with her–a frank one–and still, he’d never outright confessed to any of it.

  She wanted him to say he did it. Say he killed Mary Wayne. Say that he was after her. But all he said was that she “needed to be careful” and was “in jeopardy.”

  Later, at Margot’s, Katharine unloaded all of this while Margot listened patiently but couldn’t come up with a good answer for her, or even a passable theory.

 

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