by Lara Adrian
“I was just about to go down and find you.”
Her eyes flicked away from him as she spoke. Aric didn’t have her ability to read minds, but he didn’t need it in order to tell that she was avoiding him for some reason. He’d gotten the same sense earlier, but now everything about her body language and anxious gaze said he was just about the last person she wanted to talk to.
Before she had left the command center, he’d been willing to dismiss her withdrawn demeanor as merely aftershocks of the horror they’d encountered at the Darkhaven crime scene. Now, though, he wondered if there was something more he wasn’t seeing.
Maybe her run had given her time enough to regret letting him make love to her.
Hell, he probably ought to regret it, too, but that wasn’t the feeling he had when he looked at her. After reassuring himself for most of the morning that one taste of Kaya’s sweet body would be enough to sate him for the duration of his time in Montreal, he stood there now, riveted to the sight of her flushed cheeks and the pulse that ticked in a frantic rhythm at the base of her throat.
Renata glanced between them, her gaze shrewdly curious. “Are you two making much progress on the photos from the wedding?”
“As of now, we’ve got them narrowed down to a few hundred potentials,” Aric replied. “Assuming we can find Mercier’s Opus contact among the crowds of attendees in the images, all we’ll need to do is run a comparison against the guest list and we’ll have our man.”
“Unless the bastard wasn’t invited,” Rafe said, his fingers toying with a tendril of Siobhan’s strawberry-blonde hair.
“The wedding and reception were locked down as tight as a presidential visit,” Kaya interjected. “No one got through the gate without a thorough security check.”
Aric gave her an ironic look. “Not unless they had someone like Gideon to construct a reasonable cover for them, that is.”
Renata nodded. “And infiltrating an event like that wouldn’t be the boldest thing Opus has ever done. Their loyalists could be anywhere.”
“Even among the security detail at the Rousseau estate,” Rafe pointed out. He glanced at Kaya. “For all we know, that guard who confronted you and shot Aric could have been allegiant to Opus--or working as an operative. That could explain why he said he thought he knew you. The Order’s only been aware of Opus Nostrum for a few weeks, but that doesn’t mean they haven’t been studying us for far longer. Maybe they have more intel on the Order and our members than we realize.”
“Maybe,” she answered quietly, giving him a faint shrug.
Renata let out a curse. “It’s one thing for the bastards to come after us. What happened at that Darkhaven today has crossed a hard red line. If it turns out that Opus is putting ultraviolet rounds and weaponry into the hands of rebels or other hate-mongers, then we need to unleash hell on all of them.”
Siobhan glanced up at Rafe. “UV weapons? Oh, my God. What happened today?”
“Something terrible,” he answered gently. “But Opus and the rest of the animals who did it are going to pay--with a lot of blood and death if the Order has anything to say about it.”
As he spoke, Mira strode into the kitchen with Kellan, both of their faces lit with excitement.
“We just got a positive ID on our shredded delivery guy over in Pointe-Claire.” She held up a tablet displaying the face of the human corpse they’d found in the Darkhaven foyer this morning. “Rahul Gales. Or, ‘Repo,’ as he’s more commonly known to both law enforcement and the scumbags he runs with on a regular basis.”
Mira set the device down on the island countertop for everyone to see. Aric scrolled through the collection of mugshots, rap sheets, and other reports documenting a life of poverty, larceny, drug abuse, and assorted hate crimes.
“Do we know anything else about him?”
Kellan nodded. “Last week, Gales got picked up by JUSTIS for selling narcotics down in Dorval. The guy who bailed him out, Angus Mackie, is a real piece of work too. Most of his underlings call him ‘Big Mack.’ He owns a seedy bar in Dorval, a known hangout for gangs and other criminals.”
“Right,” Mira said. “Mackie’s only been in Montreal for the last decade, but he’s got a long record too.”
She touched the screen and brought up another photo and arrest record. Numerous felonies filled the display, everything from assault to murder. The fact that a killer like him wasn’t rotting in a prison cell somewhere was a question for another day. Because what struck Aric more than anything else was one of the evidence photos taken of Angus Mackie following one of his arrests.
The image showed the human bared from the waist up, covered in bruises and lacerations. A collection of tattoos rode Mackie’s chest and arms, crosses and stars and Gaelic symbols. But there was one tattoo on the criminal’s right pectoral that made Aric’s blood run cold.
He glanced up at Rafe. “Jesus Christ. Do you see that?”
“Holy hell.” His friend’s face hardened with grim realization. “A black scarab.”
Aric nodded. “He’s one of Riordan’s men.”
“Fineas Riordan?” Siobhan’s eyes went wide at the mention of the infamous crime lord from Dublin. “I thought he was dead. I thought the Order killed him recently.”
“We did,” Rafe replied, stroking her arm. “And if this Angus Mackie turns out to have received UV weaponry from the bastard before we took Riordan out, then Big Mack is next on the list for extermination.”
Renata eased herself up from her seat at the island. “I’ll go tell Niko what we’ve found. He’ll want to alert D.C. right away.”
“Hang on, Rennie. I’ll go with you,” Mira said, more than likely an excuse to ensure the pregnant Breedmate made the long walk without issues.
The prospect of closing in on someone not only involved in the Darkhaven attack but also linked to a known Opus member had Aric’s warrior instincts itching with the need for combat. But he couldn’t dismiss the fact that Kaya was still pointedly avoiding his gaze.
She tossed her half-eaten apple into the trash. “I should go clean up and get back to work on those photos.”
Aric nodded in acknowledgment, but when she slipped out of the kitchen without another word, he couldn’t resist following her to the hallway. He reached out and loosely caught her arm.
“Kaya. You okay?”
“Sure.” Her attempt to seem nonchalant was just that--an attempt. She drew out of his grasp and folded her arms over her breasts. “Sorry my run took a little longer than I planned. I hope I didn’t hold you up.”
He shrugged. “Don’t worry about me. Seemed like you needed to sort a lot of things out today.”
“I guess I did.” She gave him a faint nod, then started to walk away.
“So, did you?” He knew he should let her go, not only right now but in all the other ways that mattered as well. But her walls had gone up like skyscrapers between the time they’d come back from the crime scene in Pointe-Claire to now.
Especially now.
She paused, turning a frown on him. “Did I, what?”
“Sort everything out.”
“I’m working on it.”
He advanced toward her, unable to stop his feet from closing the distance. He couldn’t resist touching her again, too, just the lightest stroke of his palm against her cheek. She drew away, slowly, yet resolutely.
He scowled. “Are you upset with me?”
“Of course not.”
“Then what’s wrong?”
“Nothing.” A clipped reply, too abrupt to be believed. “I’m tired and I have the stink of the city on me. I just want to go and take a long, hot shower.”
He stared at her, certain she wasn’t being honest with him. He had seen Kaya operate at her determined maximum before, and he realized that’s what she was doing now. She couldn’t get away from him fast enough, but why, he wasn’t certain.
“Are you acting like this because of last night?” Damn it, he hadn’t meant for it to come out like
a demand, but there it was. He uttered a low curse, then tried for a more controlled timbre. “Is this about you and me having sex, Kaya?”
She exhaled a sharp breath and shook her head. “Don’t flatter yourself, warrior. It was just sex. I thought we both understood that.”
“Yeah, it was,” he answered, cautious in the face of how cool she was reacting toward him. It didn’t help that some part of him he didn’t recognize balked at the idea that the time they spent talking and making love on top of that steep ledge hadn’t changed them both somehow.
“Good,” she said. “Now that we’ve got that out of the way, will you please let me go?”
Damn. She really meant it. As passionate and responsive as she’d been with him when they made love, now she was shuttered and distant. Completely closed off to him.
Aric stepped back without another word, giving her space to leave.
And she did.
Pivoting on her heel, she left him standing there stonewalled and confused, like the idiot he apparently was.
CHAPTER 17
The shower hadn’t helped at all. Kaya’s guilt and fear about her past and the people in it was a pain that clung to her no matter how long she’d soaked or how hard she’d tried to scrub it all away.
Seeing Leah after four years apart had confirmed everything she’d been dreading--that her sister was still living among lowlifes and killers like Angus Mackie and his criminal associates. She was still one of them, even after all this time.
Worse than one of them--she was also going to bring a baby into that toxic, violent environment.
The reality of that fact put an ache inside Kaya that she felt to her marrow. She and Leah had been so close once, albeit a long time ago. As little girls, they had been as entwined as identical twins could be, two halves of one soul. But then Leah grew up too fast and life continued to pull them further and further apart. That slim tether that had connected them was severed, and Kaya had worked hard to convince herself that she was okay with that loss. Even now, she desperately wanted to divorce herself from caring for the sister whose life seemed destined to become a tragic repeat of their mother’s.
But she couldn’t do it.
As much as she wanted to deny the fact that Leah’s rejection had hurt her, she was heartsick over it. And as much as she wanted to rationalize that the Leah she knew as a child had been lost for good at least a decade ago, the hell of it was she still loved her twin.
In some weak, pathetic place inside her, Kaya still felt an unbreakable loyalty toward her only living kin. She felt protective of Leah and concerned for her wellbeing, especially now that she realized her sister was pregnant.
Had Angus Mackie raped her? Kaya wouldn’t doubt it for a second. Her sister had made some poor decisions in her life--much like their mother--but Kaya refused to believe that Leah might have willingly allowed a sadistic animal like Big Mack to touch her.
Then again, what did Kaya really know about Leah now?
That she feared Mackie was obvious. She’d have to be a fool not to. But had Leah’s self-worth slipped so far that she might actually have developed some kind of relationship with the vicious gang leader? Kaya could only pray not. Her sister had to be saner, smarter than that.
And if she wasn’t?
What if it turned out that Leah’s brainwashing and abuse within the commune of criminals had consumed every last shred of her humanity? Kaya didn’t want to consider it.
But she had to consider it, because it wouldn’t be long before the Order answered the question for her.
There was no doubt they would be moving in on Big Mack and his cronies--and soon. With the existence of ultraviolet weaponry a very real, very lethal threat to all of the Breed, combined with an evidential link between Angus Mackie and a recently terminated Opus Nostrum member, the Order would waste little time before formulating a plan of attack and then executing it.
Which meant Leah would soon be in the crosshairs of the Order’s wrath as well.
Not to mention her unborn child.
The weight of Kaya’s concern sat like an anvil on her chest. She exhaled a heavy sigh. “God, Leah. How did you end up like this? Why didn’t you let me help you?”
Now, it might be too late to fix anything in her sister’s life.
After today, it might be too late for Kaya to fix things for herself too.
She should have spoken up as soon as Mackie’s name was mentioned. Fear had stalled her tongue. What would her teammates think of her, hearing she’d been on Big Mack’s turf as recently as this morning?
How could she expect to remain in the Order’s fold if they ever learned that she herself had once been part of the very group that had slaughtered an innocent family in their home? That she had been born into that hateful world, raised within it. Still bound to it by her love for her twin.
What would they all think if they knew she’d been withholding those truths from them all this time? Their faith in her would be shattered, possibly without repair.
Sooner than later, she would have to choose between the only family she had left and the one she was making with her friends and teammates of the Order.
She thought she had made her choice when she began training as a warrior. Now, she wasn’t certain her heart was stalwart enough to shut out either one of the things she loved.
But as conflicted as she was about devotion to her blood kin versus duty to the only people who had ever made her feel that she belonged, Kaya’s regret for the way she behaved with Aric went even deeper.
To her surprise, he was in the war room when she headed down after her shower to resume working on the photos. She had anticipated being alone to go over the images he’d reviewed while she was gone that morning. Instead, he stood facing a wall of projection glass where an array of pictures from the reception were displayed.
Kaya stood in the open doorway, her gaze more riveted to the man than to the dozens of photos illuminated in front of him. Tall, broad shouldered and hewn of pure muscle, as a Breed male Aric Chase was magnificent. Even standing still he radiated otherworldly power and strength.
As the lover who had touched and kissed and pleasured nearly every inch of her body in the small hours of last night and this morning, just the sight of him made her legs go a bit weak beneath her.
He hadn’t deserved her cool rebuff when he approached her outside the kitchen a short while ago. Nor had he deserved her lie that the intimacy they had shared meant nothing to her. She only wished it meant nothing. In truth, the hours she’d spent alone with Aric naked in his arms under the moon and stars, and then the rising sun, had been ones she would cherish for the rest of her life.
She would have to cling to those moments, because she could never give in to the temptation again.
Even if that meant pushing him away.
He glanced over his shoulder, aware of her presence even without her saying a word. “It should be easier to compare the photos here instead of at the table.”
His tone was level and professional, as if she were simply one of his comrades now. Why that didn’t give her more relief, Kaya refused to acknowledge.
The one thing they both agreed on was the fact that their partnership was temporary. When it was over, their lives would continue on separate paths. No expectations of anything more. Simple, uncomplicated.
Yet when she thought about Aric--every time she was near him--her feelings were anything but simple or uncomplicated.
It was a realization that terrified her as much as any ugly secret from her past or the threat of losing everything she’d worked for with the Order.
Aric Chase made her crave things she never imagined she would have in her life. A confidant. A protector. A lover who gave as much pleasure as he demanded.
A true partner in all the ways that mattered.
Things she could never hope to have so long as her past and the people who still tied her to it were secrets she dared not bring into the light.
How long
she could keep the truth hidden from these new people she cared about, Kaya didn’t know.
More and more, it tasted like poison on her tongue.
Especially when she was looking at Aric.
“Yes, it should help,” she answered, stepping into the room as he put up more images for them to review. She drifted to his side and tried to concentrate on the hundreds of faces and profiles and nondescript backs of heads--any one of which could be the man they were looking for. Her eyes scanned the crowds and candid group shots, but all of her senses were fixed on Aric. “I thought you might be somewhere with Rafe and Mira and the rest of the team.”
“Thought, or hoped?” He didn’t look at her, not even a sidelong glance. As if he hadn’t said it at all, he reached out to rearrange the sequence of images in front of them. “The patrol team has their work to do. I’ve got mine. Unfortunately, I’m not going anywhere until we find the Opus bastard who was at that wedding reception.”
And from the steely edge in his voice, it seemed he couldn’t finish fast enough.
“What about this guy?” He pointed to a mostly obscured profile on a short, brown-haired man.
Kaya shook her head. “It’s not him. The hair is lighter and longer than that of the man I saw.”
Aric grunted and moved on. He zoomed in on a different squatty wedding guest with dark hair, pausing to look at her in question.
“Too heavy. And I believe that gentleman is wearing a toupee.”
Peering closer at it, he smirked. “Damn. You’re right.”
He discarded both images, along with several others containing alternate shots of the same men. And so it went, one photo after another, none of them netting positive results for the Order.
Kaya sighed. “At the rate we’re going here, it could be days before we find Mercier’s contact.”
“We don’t have days anymore.” Aric’s voice was sober. “If the UV bullet casing we recovered isn’t bad enough, that black scarab tattoo on Angus Mackie changes everything.”
She swallowed, her nerves jangling with dread. “What do you mean?”
