Playing With Fire: Dragons Of The Darkblood Secret Society

by Meg Ripley

  Cassie couldn’t believe she’d been so lucky; maybe she’d be done with this case today, and she could take some time to herself to actually read some of the things she’d end up buying. She rounded a corner casually, letting her eyes float indiscriminately among the colorful, varied spines as she followed the back wall to the aisle where Carter stood.

  This was the hardest part of her job—getting close without being detected. She didn’t raise her eyes as she emerged into the furthest aisle, though she noted Carter’s position and the language of his posture as he gazed around at the books. She needed to see if he really was dangerous in any way—and there was always a chance he could be dangerous to her, especially if he realized she was following him, and especially if he was on any stimulants. Cassie had more experience with ducking heavy items–like chairs and corded phones—than she wanted to admit, but she wasn’t confident in her ability to duck a punch from a man who weighed a hundred pounds more than her. That was what her taser was for—and, if that failed, her hunting knife. She’d never had to use the knife before, but there was a first time for everything.

  A cursory glance told her that though the man was on edge, his eyes were clear and steady. They were a startling sea green, as deep as a rolling ocean; Cassie felt herself pause on the stubble-covered square of his jaw, his strong nose, and his thick, dark lashes, wondering how things would play out if she did a little retcon as a flirty college student.

  Focus! she reminded herself. You’re working. Urges later. Money now.

  Cassie reached for another book, and the movement pulled Carter’s eyes to her. She felt a shiver roll down her spine as his eyes fell on her—and it intensified as they stayed there, as though they were glued to her skin. She forced her breathing to stay steady and prayed that her cheeks didn’t look as warm as they felt. Did he catch me staring? Tell me he didn’t catch me staring!

  Cassie turned a page in the book she was gripping, counting slowly from one to ten in her head as her heart beat wildly in her chest. Finally, she felt his eyes move on from her—but he started to move away from her as well, backing around a corner while he cast his eyes around him restlessly once more.

  Shit! Cassie thought, her internal monologue growing more hysterical by the second. Did he move away because I was staring, or because he knows I’m following him?

  Or maybe he’s just moving away, said a second, calmer voice—but this didn’t feel as true, and her heart started to beat more quickly. Great, you ruined a case with your stupid hormones—happy now?

  Cassie groaned under her breath and turned around, sauntering back toward her original position while trying to look for Carter as nonchalantly as she could. She got back to the other side of the store before she realized that he wasn’t anywhere she could see, and her heart started to race again. What the hell? Why didn’t I hear the door open?

  She nearly jumped out of her skin when two fingers tapped lightly on her shoulder from behind. The books Cassie was holding all slipped to the purplish carpet, and she was too stunned to bother to try and catch them. It was Carter—and he was grinning at her sheepishly, his sandy blonde hair falling over one of his calm green eyes as he looked down at his scuffed hiking boots. Cassie’s heart was still in her throat, and she took a step away from him, letting him see the warning in her eyes when he met her gaze again. She still didn’t know who he really was—only that someone needed him found.

  “Sorry to startle you,” he said, and his deep voice was palpably apologetic. “I had to give you the slip. I’m not great at direct confrontations. This is usually a little easier.

  Cassie didn’t try to hide the confusion in her eyes; the way he was speaking didn’t seem to match up with her expectations of the situation, but that didn’t mean she was totally wrong. Make him think you’re just a customer, she decided. “I’m sorry, have we met?”

  The man raised his eyebrows at her. “Wow, you’re dedicated. Cassie, it’s okay. It’s over. You passed the test.”

  She narrowed her eyes at him, suspicion flooding her mind. “Test? What the hell are you talking about?”

  He looked nervous now; he even looked over his shoulder, as though checking for backup. “I’m sorry, I should explain. My name isn’t Carter Hampton—though you’ve likely already figured that out.” He paused, but Cassie didn’t speak.

  “My name is Eric Riverston, and I’m the same person who sent you that email,” he continued anxiously. “I really need help, and you were among the top five private investigators available, according to my research.”

  Cassie suddenly understood what he meant by test. “You set this up to see how good I was at feeling you out and tracking you?”

  Carter—Eric, she corrected herself—smiled, relief plain in his expression. “Yes, exactly. I’m ashamed to admit that because of your age, I went through the other four before I tried you…but none of them ever even found me.”

  Cassie laughed. “That doesn’t surprise me.”

  Eric peered at her, and she felt a peculiar tingling sensation spread through her body—like she was massaged all over with light particles, or a vibrating mist. “Why not?”

  Cassie thought for a moment, trying to find a way to explain it to him. “Let me ask you this: why do you think those other PIs didn’t find you?”

  Eric blinked slowly in response to her question. “They all went in different directions,” he said at last. “One of them started trying to cross match identities to find my real one. Two of them took the picture and started asking around places, and that got them close, but never actually anywhere I turned out to be. And the other one tried to get around the block by running my finger prints.”

  Cassie was nodding as he spoke, and she chuckled as he finished talking. “That sounds like grizzled PIs. Depending on their careers, they may pick up a few really good tips and tricks and use them well enough to get by—but ultimately, if you work in the dirt, everything starts to look like mud. They’ve learned bad habits, and often, they lead to bad decisions. That’s one area where my age is an advantage—and lucky for you, it’s a big one.”

  Eric was gazing at her in wonder, “Wow. I should have just come and talked to you.”

  Cassie laughed. “The way you live has given you blind spots too, I’m sure.”

  Eric smiled at her, and it was so unselfconscious that she felt her own smile broaden in return. “Oh, please. Tell me what my blind spots are. And how would you know them, anyway?”

  She laughed again, and this time it was distinctly surprised; an ultra-rich type with a sense of humor about himself was rare—but then, so was a client catching her completely off guard. “Well, you’ve just said your name is Eric Riverston—and despite the fact that I know you’ve taken care to avoid doing almost any press or allowing any real information about you to be spread on the internet, I make it my business to know things that are clearly none of mine.”

  His eyes were sparkling with excitement. “You really are good. But how do you know about me if you didn’t assume my identity was false, like the other guys?”

  “I didn’t say I never figured out the false lead,” she corrected him. Cassie took a step closer to him and lowered her voice when she noticed the bored looking store clerk gazing over at them, not even pretending to do work anymore.

  “I knew Carter was fake, but I didn’t know which of the identities my searches traced back to was yours, or even if any of them were. So, I worked on the assumption that none of them were real, but that I was right about the fake name. Photos are hard to fake, and I could tell the one you provided was authentic. And then I started with obvious places—listing places that only had real physical receipts. Sometimes it doesn’t work, but my gut is usually right. And it was, partially. So, you’re really Eric Riverston, software-wunderkind-turned-tech-giant worth more than he could ever spend in his lifetime, huh?”

  Eric laughed. “Yeah, that’s me. Although I regret the wunderkind title. I’m twenty-seven; not exactly a baby.”
>
  “I’m twenty-seven,” Cassie interjected, “and I don’t have my own island.”

  Eric arched one of his sandy blonde brows. “How do you know I have an island? How deep into the identities did you get?”

  “Deep enough, Eric Sue Riverston.” Cassie struggled to keep her face still as color rushed to Eric’s cheekbones.

  “How did you—I had that changed!”

  The store clerk was wandering over to them, and instead of answering, Cassie just laughed and shook her head.

  “Come on. We should go somewhere else, Sue. The locals are starting to get restless.”

  ****

  Cassie’s step was light as they walked to the coffee shop two blocks away, and she told herself it was because the case had turned out to be more interesting than she expected—not because Eric’s aquamarine eyes kept connecting with hers and refusing to pull away, or darting to her lips and back as she spoke. He’s just intense. These Silicon Valley types always are, and you’re probably just a tad cuter than he expected.

  The coffee shop was mostly deserted, since there were two chain coffee bars a few blocks away, and most of the college kids who frequented places like it were in class or sleeping away hangovers. Cassie settled into a seat next to the window, indicating to the waitress that they’d like to see menus.

  “So, you found out more than anyone else did about me, but still didn’t connect the photo to my identity?”

  Cassie shrugged as she accepted the greasy menu from the wide-hipped waitress. “My results were inconclusive, and my gut told me I’d found out more by just doing something instead of making endless guesses.”

  Eric pushed his hair away from his forehead and sat back in his seat; Cassie felt that odd tingling sensation sweep over her skin again, and she couldn’t fight the shiver that rolled through her this time. “I’m so glad you turned out to be the best; I know you’re going to be just perfect for this job. Two coffees, please?” Eric smiled at the waitress as she nodded and strode away to retrieve two mugs.

  Cassie watched the woman until she was out of sight, then made herself meet Eric’s gaze. “Eric…Mr. Riverston, you still haven’t told me what this job is, so there isn’t any guarantee that I’m going to take it.” She kept her voice level, but it disappointed her to even say it aloud; hormone-based reasons or not, she did have a feeling that whatever he had for her was big—possibly even career changing.

  He nodded thoughtfully, adding sugar the coffee the waitress had just poured. “Eric, please,” he said. “You probably know about my security project?”

  Cassie nodded. “Not the specifics, but I know it’s something that the big search engines are after, and even a few mobile phone developers.”

  “It’s going to change mobile and internet security completely,” he confirmed. “It’s been in the works for nearly three years, and last month I got close to finishing it. Then something weird happened.” Eric shook his head bitterly. “I should have caught on immediately. Bits of code kept changing slightly—not enough to detect immediately, but enough to change functionality in a major way. Then when I fixed it, things started to rewrite themselves—which, at first, was just annoying. But it led to a major shutdown of my systems, and I lost a chunk of the program completely. It took us months to get back up and running.” He sighed. “Then everything started all over again. I finally started to look closely and saw the instances of where the source of corruption was introduced to the software and had started to wipe it, but not completely erase it. I found enough data to tell me that someone is sabotaging my project. And it’s coming from inside my own company.”

  Cassie’s mouth dropped open. “Wow. Really? Are you completely sure? Don’t get me wrong,” she said hurriedly at the look of irritation on his face, “when things are sabotaged, a likely suspect is someone involved in the situation directly. But it’s also natural to get a little defensive or jumpy after working on something so hard for so long.”

  “I understand,” Eric said mildly. “But I’m sure. It’s one of the few things I’m sure of.”

  Cassie bristled, but forced herself not to react to his attitude. He’s just stressed out, she reminded herself. “I just want to be sure before I start investigating and feelings are inevitably hurt. When the truth comes out in cases like this, it’s usually ugly, and bonds that are broken are nearly impossible to repair. And I’d generally recommend against trying.”

  Eric dropped his eyes from hers and sighed, his shoulders slumping forward as he seemed to visibly deflate. “You’re right. I’m sorry, I’m just very nervous. This could all turn out so badly.”

  She felt a rush of empathy for him. “It’s going to be ok. I’ll make sure of it.”

  Cassie reached across the table and squeezed his shoulder lightly, smiling in what she hoped was a reassuring manner. But when Eric’s green eyes met hers, she grew less sure of her ability to stay completely controlled during this case: there was heat there in his gaze, whether he meant for her to see it or not—and she pulled her hand back quickly, her blood running hot from the scorching energy coursing between them. Eric smiled slowly, and he caught her fingers in his hand before she could finish retracting her arm; Cassie gasped softly, and she felt herself blush.

  “Thank you,” Eric said in a low voice. “You’re too kind.”

  Her skin grew warmer, and she realized the odd tingling sensation was back, like the sun was shining to warm her and her alone.

  You can’t take this case, she told herself desperately—then, almost simultaneously: you have to take this case.

  Eric pulled his hand back, and it was like she had been pushed from cloud nine and left to fall to the Earth. “I know your rates, and I’m prepared to offer you double.”

  That startled her. “Double?”

  Eric nodded. “Something tells me that this might get…” he trailed off, looking for the right words. “I’ve seen people get dangerous when they’re cornered,” he finished. “And I’m sure you have, too. They may be different kinds of danger, but I want to make sure this is worth your while.”

  Cassie laughed. “Are you afraid someone’s going to hack my social media pages? Ruin my reputation?”

  Eric didn’t laugh. “You never know.”

  After that, they ordered, chatting idly as they waited for their food to arrive. Cassie was surprised to find that everything she’d discovered was true—he owned low income housing in several cities that he rented out for free or reduced prices, he was a digital artist whose work was sometimes showcased at museums in cities around the globe, and he’d graduated college at the age of sixteen. Cassie was astounded that he’d managed to keep nearly everything about himself under the radar, even the fact that the biggest software breakthrough in years was his; she was even more shocked to find that his aversion to attention was genuine. It made her want to know more about him, and Eric was genuinely impressed with her, so they ended up talking for more than two hours after they’d finished eating. Finally, Eric reluctantly paid the check and mentioned that he had to get back to work.

  “I’ll start right away,” Cassie promised as he walked her to her car. She looked around as he stopped next to her passenger side door. “Where’s your car?”

  “A few blocks back,” he answered. “I thought you might be staking the place out.”

  She smiled at him. “All that trouble, and I found you on my first try.”

  Eric returned her smile, and she saw the smoldering heat occupy his gaze again for a moment before it faded away. “You’re very impressive. I look forward to being further impressed by you, Miss Vine.”

  Cassie’s heart skipped a beat, and her mouth felt suddenly dry. “Cassie. Call me Cassie.”

  Eric paused for a moment, as though he was savoring her name on his tongue. “Cassie. I’ll see you later.”

  For a second, it looked like he was leaning down toward her, and her stomach seized with terror and exhilaration; then the moment was over, and he was turning and walking down
the street, his hands in the pockets of his jeans. Cassie’s eyes fell on his backside as he walked, and she felt a burst of desire awaken inside her.

  Godammit. I’m in trouble.

  But Cassie had never been one to flee from trouble. Instead, she did exactly as she promised, working on the case as soon as she received a huge zip file filled with information. Cassie had some tracking and security software of her own, and started to cross reference information with what she knew about the company. Unfortunately, her mind kept coming back around to Eric, and she repeatedly lost the thread of her investigation until she finally gave up and took a break, collapsing on her bed and giving herself over to a vivid fantasy in which Eric massaged her sore muscles with his powerful hands underneath the lip of a waterfall.

  Cassie was dumbfounded. It’s not like she wanted action—sure, she didn’t always have the most memorable one-night stands, but they got the job done. And she knew she was attractive—all shapely legs and long curves, generous breasts atop a slim waist, striking features and long, sweeping soft brown hair. She knew how to dress herself down and blend her body into any situation, and because of that, Cassie could basically become invisible at will. It was a skill she took pride and not a small amount of pleasure in—but it was a skill she found was rendered useless in front of Eric. The entire time she spoke to him, it was like his gaze was a searchlight, illuminating her world with dazzling white energy after being so used to slipping noiselessly through space. He saw her, and she wasn’t sure what that meant for her—only that it filled her with terror and a warm, dizzy joy.