by Anna Hackett
“It happened.”
Blair swallowed a frustrated growl.
They didn’t talk on the drive to the sports bar. Before he’d even put the Explorer into park, she was out, striding toward the bar.
She opened the door, and instantly the familiar sights and sounds eased her. The long wooden bar was lined with stools, and there was a row of television screens over the bar, tuned in to different sports games. A few pool tables occupied another area at the back.
Her team was sitting at the long, scratched-up bar. Blair really needed a beer, but since she was working, a Coke would have to do.
Lachlan’s gold gaze zeroed in on her face, then flicked to MacKade. There was no missing the bandage over Luke’s eye. “What happened?”
“Blair, did you hurt our poor detective?” Seth wore a shit-eating grin.
She shot her teammate a sour look. “We were attacked.” She sat on a stool. “We went to see a dealer and a guy with a sword was waiting for us when we left.”
MacKade took the seat beside hers. “Wouldn’t be surprised if the tip the dealer received was just to lure us out.”
Blair went into detail on the attack, listening to her teammates grumble and Axel curse in Spanish. Lachlan had a very unhappy look on his face.
Pulling Lachlan’s fries closer, Blair dug in. She was starving.
Suddenly, MacKade’s phone rang. With a jerk of his chin, he moved toward the pool tables to take the call. Damn, that man’s phone rang constantly. It would drive Blair insane.
“How’s it going?” Lachlan asked.
“Fine.”
“That’s it?”
“So far.”
Her friend was eyeing her suspiciously.
“You?” she asked.
“Chasing leads, but nothing yet. Brooks is digging into this BrightSea Industries.” Lachlan swiveled on his stool. “You’re pretty wound up for someone who’s fine. Not like you.”
“I’m. Fine.”
Callie leaned closer, dark eyes narrowed. “Oh, my God. Did you sleep with him?”
“What?” Blair’s pulse spiked. “Who? MacKade? No! I only saw you guys a few hours ago.”
Callie wagged a finger at her. “Something happened.”
Blair shoved another fry into her mouth. She and the others had given Lachlan, Seth, and Smith a hell of a hard time as the men had fallen in love with their respective women. Blair was not planning on being on the receiving end of the same treatment.
“Did you kiss him?” Callie persisted.
Blair opened her mouth and closed it. When she looked up, her entire team was grinning at her.
“Shut it, assholes. I was almost killed by a ninja today.”
“Samurai,” Seth said.
MacKade returned. “Tests on the sword from the attack this afternoon came back.”
“That was fast,” she said.
“Didn’t take long. Sword’s a cheap knockoff. Nothing special about it.”
As he sat back down, Blair sensed her team looking at MacKade then at her and back again.
Shit. She shoved more fries in her mouth.
“This is me,” Blair said.
Luke pulled to a stop in front of a mid-sized apartment building not far from the Strip. It wasn’t anything fancy, but it was well maintained.
She jumped out of the car before he could say anything else.
He rolled his eyes. So damn prickly. But there had been nothing prickly or hesitant about the kiss they’d shared. She kissed with every inch of her being, all-in. Luke could still feel her, taste her.
When he got out of the car, she frowned at him. “What are you doing?”
“I’m seeing you to your door. And I’m going to come up and check your apartment. We were attacked today.”
“There’s no need. I’m a big girl.”
“I know. I’m still coming up.” She unlocked the front door of the building and they walked in. She shot him an impressive scowl.
“You’re a pain in my ass,” she snapped.
“You’re a pain in my ass,” he countered.
She took the stairs to the next floor, and he followed her down the hall. As they approached the door at the end, he saw her stiffen.
He glanced at her apartment. The door was ajar. At the same moment, they both drew their weapons.
She met his gaze, face serious, and nodded her head. He nodded back.
She nudged the door open with her shoulder.
As Blair went high, he went low. They entered her apartment. At first glance, it looked untouched, and as he took it in, his eyes widened. This was not what he’d expected from Blair Mason.
The walls were covered in bright artwork. The paintings were all splashes of paint in wild blues, greens, and yellows. There were also lots of shelves stuffed with books.
Focusing on the task at hand, they quickly cleared the two-bedroom apartment—where he tried not to take too much notice of her metal-framed, four-poster bed. They came back into the living room, and clearly his surprise was evident on his face.
“What were you expecting?” she bit out. “Guns and knives on the walls? Skull-and-flames décor?”
Luke paused for a second. “Yeah.”
She rolled her eyes. “There’s no one here now. And nothing looks like it’s missing.” She checked her security system. It had been disabled.
“So, who was here, and what did they want?” he said.
Neither of them had any answers.
“Let’s take a closer look around,” she said.
They did another walk-through. Clothes littered the floor in her bedroom. Luke snatched up a twist of filmy fabric off the floor. “Most former military personnel I know are tidy.”
Blair turned and snatched the tiny nightgown out of his hand. “Hands off. I had enough years of being tidy. At home, I do whatever the hell I want.”
She turned and then she hissed. She pulled open both her closet doors, and that’s when he saw the throwing star—shuriken— embedded in the door.
Something primal moved through him. A possessive need to ensure her safety. He didn’t like this. Not at all.
“I’m staying,” he told her.
“What?” She turned to face him, thrusting her hands on her hips. “I don’t need a bodyguard, MacKade. I’m a military-trained professional.”
He took a plastic baggy out of his pocket. He kept a small stash for occasions just like this. Using his pen, he worked the shuriken free and slid it into the bag. Maybe they’d get prints, but he didn’t think they’d be that lucky. “This is a threat.”
She waved a hand. “Good. I want to know who the hell came into my place. I can protect myself. And if you stay here, I’ll just have to protect your ass, as well.”
Anger clogged his throat. “You’re hardheaded and obstinate.”
She shoved her hands against his chest, then strode back into the living room.
“Blair—”
She spun. “Do you think I’m some kind of damsel in distress or delicate flower?”
“No, I don’t think that. Wanting to ensure your safety doesn’t take away from your ability to protect yourself.” He released a breath. “Look, I don’t want to fight with you.”
“I told you, I can take care of myself.”
She shoved him again, and this time, he grabbed her arms. Something exploded in her eyes and she came at him. Damn, she was strong. They scuffled, and she shoved an elbow into his gut.
The air rushed out of him. “Dammit, Blair.”
“I could take you down right here,” she said.
He spun her, fast. Then he shoved her facefirst against the wall, holding her arms behind her back.
She threw herself backward. But he was ready, dodging his head out of the way before the back of her head rammed into his nose.
They spun, and he kept a firm grip on her arms. “Why are you fighting me so hard? Am I getting too close, Blair?”
“Shut up.”
Her foot wh
ipped out, tripping him. Cursing, he grabbed at her, but she turned, throwing her weight against him.
They fell, crashing onto her wooden coffee table. It flipped and they fell to the floor.
Hell. Luke heaved himself up and cursed. “You can’t bend or lean on anyone, can you?”
She sat up, glaring at him.
He shook his head. “You have no soft edges, Blair. You’re all hard. You’d cut a man and make him bleed. It’s no wonder you’re single.”
Luke regretted the angry words instantly. It was his frustration talking, but he felt her jerk. Her face went blank.
Shit. He’d gone too far.
She pushed to her feet, her body stiff. “Get out.”
Fuck. Fuck. But as she just stared at him, he let his anger fuel him. He strode for her front door. “I’m gone.”
Chapter Six
Blair stood at her kitchen counter, sipping her coffee. She’d slept like shit after her altercation with Luke. She sighed and took another sip. Like caffeine could solve all her problems.
The strong-tasting brew slid down her throat. Normally, she’d cook herself a mound of bacon and eggs—she could at least fry one—but the memory of their fight messed with her appetite.
Dammit, nothing messed with her appetite.
She drank the rest of her coffee and stalked into her bathroom. After she dressed, she pulled her hair up in a ponytail, and looked at herself in the mirror. Automatically, her gaze went to her prosthetic eye.
No, she wasn’t soft. She was toned muscle, a straightforward attitude, and she actually liked beating up bad guys.
But she could bend. Maybe.
She stroked the corner of her eye—one Ty had made for her when she’d joined Team 52. She had better vision than before the horrible attack that had taken her eye.
Sights, sounds, and smells came back to her, hitting her like bullets. The attack, the bomb blast, Lachlan’s shouts.
Blair heaved in a breath. That was shit she didn’t think about.
Shit happened. Her hands curled around the sink. Some people died, other people lived. Life went on.
Shaking off her mood, she headed back to the living room to grab her gear. She needed to get to work. As she clipped on her holster, she glanced out the window and noticed the police cruiser sliding slowly down her street. She paused and the breath rushed out of her.
She knew. She knew that the cruisers had probably been doing drive-bys all night. Her arms fell to her sides. He’d left her, mad as hell, but he’d still ensured her protection.
Shit. Her chest was tight.
Heading out her front door, she pulled out her cellphone and called Lachlan.
“Hey,” she said, when he answered.
“Hey. Got anything?”
“Nothing. We’ll be checking out more leads today. You?”
“Nothing new.”
“Do we know how the swords work yet?”
“No,” Lachlan replied. “It’s driving Ty crazy. The man still hasn’t slept.”
Bummer. Knowing how the swords functioned could help them dramatically. “Someone broke into my apartment.”
“What?”
“Left a shuriken embedded in my closet door.”
Lachlan growled. “And you didn’t call it in?”
“Nothing else was touched.”
“Blair—” Her friend’s voice was a growl.
“I’m meeting MacKade at police headquarters. We’ll keep going through what we have.”
“I’m pulling you off police detail.”
“Hell, no. You’re right. If I work with the police, we’ll find these swords much faster.”
Lachlan grunted. “Don’t be a superhero, Blair. Any more shurikens, you let me know.”
“Yes, boss.”
“Blair.” A pause. “You’re part of a team. Let us help.”
Her throat thickened. “Lachlan, do you think I can bend? Or am I all sharp edges?”
Another pause. “MacKade being an asshole?”
She sighed. “I may have provoked him.”
“You can bend, Blair, but not easily. And all those sharp edges are protecting soft.”
She swallowed. “I’m not protecting anything. With me, what you see is what you get.”
Lachlan made a noise.
“Look, I have to go,” she said.
“We’ll be in Vegas today. You need me, just call.”
She headed for her parking spot and decided to take her Ducati. A ride would help clear her head. “If we find anything, I’ll check in.”
“Okay. Stay safe, Blair.”
Blair tucked her phone away, then tugged her leather jacket closer. There was a nip in the air today. She pulled her helmet off the handlebars.
She tugged the helmet on and climbed on her bike. She started it, the engine vibrating between her legs. Smiling, she pulled out, zooming down the street. She decided to make a quick stop on the way to the station for baked goods.
She considered donuts, but decided that was too clichéd. Besides, she had a hankering for cupcakes. Something told her she was going to need them today.
She pulled into Sprinkles Cupcakes at the Flamingo—her favorite place for those delectable little treats—and grabbed half a dozen of her favorites. She stuck them in her backpack before speeding off again.
As she zipped through traffic on Las Vegas Boulevard, out of habit, she scanned her mirrors. It wasn’t long before she noticed something. Frowning, she casually glanced in her mirrors. Three bikes had pulled out of a side street. They were all black, and the riders were all dressed in black.
There was nothing about them that should inherently make her suspicious, but out of curiosity, she flicked on her indicator and turned onto another street. As she zoomed through the traffic, she spotted the motorbikes following her.
Well, hello, there.
Blair took a circuitous route along some side streets, not making it easy for them to follow her, but not wanting to lose them, either.
If they wanted a showdown, she’d give them one.
But as soon as she neared police headquarters, her company disappeared. She pulled to a stop in front of the station and slid off her bike. She scanned the street in both directions. They were gone.
She stood there for a moment, staring at the traffic rolling past. Maybe she’d imagined it? Maybe, but she doubted it.
Shaking her head, she grabbed her backpack, pulled out her cupcakes, and walked inside.
The sound of ringing phones, murmured conversations, and distant raised voices hit her. She had to admit, it had a certain charm. She took the stairs two at a time.
When she reached the Homicide Section, MacKade was already at his desk. Today, he was wearing a shirt in deep, chocolate brown, with dark jeans. The brown exactly matched his eyes, and he looked too damn delicious.
Her mouth went a little dry. He looked up at her and an awkward tension throbbed between them. He was on the phone.
“I can’t do a family dinner right now, Dad. Yeah, things are busy.” Pause. “Tell, Deidre I’ll fix that light for her as soon as this case is closed.” Another pause. “Yeah, and why am I the one who has to give my nephew driving lessons? My brother is a perfectly good driver.” A grunt. “Yeah, fine. Okay, look Dad, I have to go. Yeah, of course I’ll be there for Christmas lunch. Yeah, catch you soon.” MacKade ended his call. “Family stuff.”
That was nice. Blair talked with her mom and dad semi-frequently. Once, a long time ago, they’d been close. But then their lives had imploded and their happy family was gone in a blink. Blair swallowed. Her parents now had busy lives centered around their retirement community in Florida. “Your family’s in Vegas?”
“Yeah. Dad, a sister, and a brother, a few nieces and nephews.” He rose. “You ready to go through some more security footage from the Waldorf Astoria?”
Good morning to you, too. Clearly, he was still pissed.
He’d insulted her. He shouldn’t be acting angry. Don’t giv
e him a reaction, Blair.
She opened her container, selected a cupcake, and bit into it. “Yeah. Lead the way.”
It was just the two of them in the conference room, and Luke could only describe the atmosphere as tense.
He pulled the security footage up on the screen, trying to ignore his reaction to Blair. “You going to share those?” He nodded at the pack of cupcakes in front of her.
She pulled them closer to her. “No.”
He watched her white teeth bite into a cupcake.
He was mad at himself. Mad that he’d lost it with her last night, and lashed out without thinking. It was two steps forward, one step back with this woman.
As the footage rolled, he reached out and stole one of the cupcakes. She rounded on him, anger filling her face.
“Give that back.”
“No.” He took a large bite. “You owe me.”
“How do you figure that?”
“Blair, I was pissed off last night. I shouldn’t have said what I did.”
She stared at the screen resolutely, her body stiff. “Fine.”
“It’s not fine.” He understood now that he’d really hurt her. He was only just realizing that Blair Mason’s tough hide was covering some incredibly soft spots. “I’ve got no idea why you’re single. You’re attractive, smart, and tough. I like all of that. A lot. Too much.”
Her gaze swung to him, and something worked through her fascinating, mis-matched eyes. “We have a mission to complete.”
He nodded. “And the investigation has to be our priority right now.”
She gave him a nod, and he swore she almost looked relieved. Luke tapped his fingers on the table. I’m not giving up, cupcake. Hell, no. She might think she was safe, but he wanted to understand Blair more than ever.
Yeah, he also wanted her naked in his bed—or on any flat surface—but he wanted to know what made this unique woman tick. He was only just realizing that she let very few people slip through her defenses.
They both stared at the screen for a while, lost in their respective thoughts.
Then she stiffened and leaned forward. “Go back.”
That’s when Luke spotted it. A man crossing the street, holding a cylindrical tube over his shoulder.
