Driven

by Rebecca Zanetti

  Angus patted her leg, shooting jolts of electricity through her body. “Sorry about that. How did that happen?”

  His touch warmed her, and she settled in to a comfort she hadn’t realized they’d developed. “There was another member of our team who kept jumping into danger after she lost her partner. I also thought she was doing drugs to cope.”

  Angus winced. “She wouldn’t be the first agent to do so.”

  Nari nodded. “I know, and I couldn’t get her to seek help. Vaughn wouldn’t force her to seek assistance, saying she just wanted disability, or that women shouldn’t be in the agency anyway. I had no choice but to go over his head. The press found out and HDD was almost exposed.” Remembered anxiety pinged up her chest and she breathed through it.

  “That sucks,” Angus said, his voice thoughtful. “Were you correct?”

  “Yeah. The agent did end up in counseling, and she quit the agency to open a gardening supply store with her cousin. She’s much happier now.” Nari opened her eyes to see his intent ones focused on her. Green and shining with that undeniable light only he had. If she could paint, she’d try to capture that look.

  One of his dark eyebrows rose. “This is why you were demoted to our team?”

  “Yes,” she said softly, unable to stop her gaze from running over his impossibly rugged face. Strong angles and stubborn shadows matched the strength, cunning, and pain in the depths of his fierce eyes. As a psychologist, she wanted to get into his head and provide some assistance. As a woman, she craved to dive into his heart and provide comfort. During her time in his unit, he hadn’t allowed her to do either.

  Of course, the first was a risk to him and the second one to her. Definitely. At some point, she needed to learn she couldn’t save bad boys who didn’t want to be saved. She sighed.

  His lips twitched into a smirk. “Yeah. I know.”

  At least they could laugh at themselves together. Or at least smirk. She finally let her body relax and absorb the fact that it was over. Her time with Angus’s team had come to an end. The idea hurt. “I wish I could’ve saved the team,” she murmured.

  “We’re not done yet,” he said, his shoulder touching hers in a way that provided comfort despite the turmoil around them. “Although I do have to ask you a question. You were willing to lose your job to force a teammate into counseling and yet you’ve never tried to push me into getting help.”

  She sighed. “You aren’t weak or at risk, Angus. Oh, you’re obsessed and on the edge, but I’ve never thought you were a true danger to yourself or anybody else. Plus, you’re excellent at this job.”

  He blinked. His smile was almost boyish, and the brief glimpse of the sweetness inside him warmed her from head to toe, giving her that gooey feeling she didn’t know what to do with.

  The moment stretched on, and finally he broke eye contact. “Want me to beat the crap out of your ex and tell him to be nice to you on your new job? I’ve already been fired, so I don’t have anything to lose. I wouldn’t mind hitting somebody, actually.” Angus took another deep gulp of the whiskey.

  She grinned. “No, but that’s a kind offer. We were a bad match from the start, and he wasn’t the nicest guy.”

  Angus stiffened, the bottle still at his lips. Slowly, deliberately, he set it down next to him before facing her fully. “That’s a large statement from you. How bad did things get with him? I believe you said his name was Vaughn.” Intensity swirled around him with an intimidating flash of warmth.

  She blinked. “Angus, I—”

  “What, Nari?” He grasped her arm, his hold gentle but firm, conveying an insistence she felt to her toes. “What did he do?”

  She couldn’t breathe. Angus in full-on, protective alpha mode should be a turnoff, but her breath quickened and her abdomen turned over. Where was the easy camaraderie they’d just enjoyed? She tried to diffuse him. “Nothing for you to get irritated about,” she croaked. Jeez. She needed to get herself under control before she just jumped the guy. “He was angry and called me a bad shrink and an emotional bitch.”

  “I’d very much like to punch him now,” Angus drawled, his eyes a sharp emerald. “What’s his full name?”

  “Why?” she asked.

  He paused, his chin lifting. “So I can beat him until he begs.”

  The idea perversely warmed her heart—as well as several other places on her body. “Oh yeah? Why?” she challenged, unable to think of another response. This was going somewhere she needed to avoid, but she couldn’t help herself. Didn’t really want to.

  He paused. His jaw tensed.

  She held her breath. Was he finally going to go there?

  His nostrils flared the slightest amount. “We might have been disbanded, but until a few hours ago you worked for me. We were on the same team. I’ll take care of this guy.”

  Her lungs deflated. “God, you’re a coward.” She pushed to her feet, shocked when he stood twice as fast.

  “Think so?” He angled his body, putting her back to the wall. One of his hands flattened against the chipped paint right next to her face. Heat from his hard body washed over her, and the scent of whiskey filtered through her senses. “I’m doing the smart thing and you know it. We’re not good for each other.”

  That was an understatement. With him standing so close, towering over her, bracketing her with his body, her mind struggled to stay in control. “You can’t hate everybody who knows psychology, Angus,” she murmured. “You have to stop pushing everyone away.”

  He leaned in even closer, ducking his head to trap her gaze. “Baby, the last thing I want to do is push you away.”

  Nobody in her entire life had called her “baby.” She should be insulted. Yet her knees wobbled and desire ripped through her system with a force that stole her voice. He was so much bigger than she, and even that thought spun hunger through her. What would it be like to unleash all that male strength and fire? Angus Force concealed his fire with sarcasm, dogged determination, and intense control. But it was there. Fire, anger, pain, humor, hope. The emotions were visible now in his eyes, fighting one another. Fighting him.

  “Angus,” she whispered, feeling for him. Wanting to somehow ease him.

  “Stop me, Nari.” He leaned closer, his lips almost on hers. Slow and deliberate. “Please. Stop me.”

  She couldn’t. Instead, she closed her eyes and leaned toward him. The second his mouth touched hers, she realized her mistake.

  Her body jolted and her mind went blank. Electricity zapped down her torso, landing at her core and spreading outward.

  He growled, actually growled, and clamped his hand on the back of her head, kissing her so deeply she could only hold on for the desperate ride. His taste flooded her senses. Whiskey, male, and danger. She’d known. The danger wasn’t all around him; it was in him.

  She could taste it. Feel it. Drown in it.

  Opening her mouth to take more of him, she grasped his waist to keep her balance. She dug her nails into his flanks, her mind spinning, moaning as his tongue swept along hers.

  Angus devoured her like a drowning man seeking air.

  His phone buzzed and he jerked. He drew air in through his nose, gentled the kiss, and ended it with a soft nip to her bottom lip.

  He straightened, his eyes the color of a dark-green forest. Haunted and dangerous.

  She blinked, rapidly trying to fill her lungs. What had just happened? Her lips tingled and her body ached. Heat spiraled into her face, but she still couldn’t move.

  He drew the phone from his back pocket and glanced down to read the screen.

  In a second he went cold. Ice cold. He stepped away from her.

  She exhaled. “What? What’s happened?”

  When he looked up his eyes were expressionless. Completely. “We have another body.”

  Chapter Seven

  Lanterns set every few yards marked the muddy trail from the dark parking area at Soapstone Valley Park outside of DC, their light, small beacons leading to hell. Dead lea
ves smashed beneath his boots as Angus ducked his head against the punishing rain pelting through bare tree branches to attack his head. “You should go back to your car, Nari,” he said. Again.

  “No.” She stepped lightly behind him, unsuccessfully attempting to share her umbrella as they walked through the night.

  He didn’t want to be dry. Didn’t want to find any comfort right now. Most of all, he didn’t want her to see what no doubt lay ahead. “Go back to the car and wait with Roscoe. You shouldn’t be here,” he muttered.

  “Neither should you,” she countered, slipping on the mud and quickly regaining her balance. “I’m surprised the cop at the trailhead let either of us pass.”

  A lot of bluster had helped, as had Nari’s HDD badge. “Listen. I appreciate the ride, but trust me, you don’t want to be here.” He wiped rain from his face to see better. Movement sounded up ahead, and brighter lights flickered through the wet underbrush and desolate trees.

  “But I enjoyed our talk on the long ride here,” she said dryly.

  They hadn’t said a word. Either one of them. He’d been consumed with thoughts of another body and she’d been uncharacteristically silent. Yet another thing to irritate him about her. The woman knew when to give him space. Plus, he’d had time to sober up while she’d driven. He scowled into the night.

  A small creek lay nearly still and dark to their right and he followed its path.

  She kept close to him. “If this is the same killer, he’s killed one night apart. If he’s copying Lassiter, that’s not part of the MO. Right?”

  “Right.”

  She cleared her throat. “One night apart is crazy. I mean, there’s no cooling down time.”

  “We’ll see.” Angus finally turned a corner and the scene came into view. “Jesus,” he breathed.

  Nari drew abreast of him, stopping silently.

  Angus took in the entire area. Yellow crime scene tape cordoned off a large area, wrapped around thin trees and bushes to protect the area. Bright spotlights shone from four directions, two on either side of the creek toward the center. Darkness encroached outside the circle of lights. A thick tree—old, with rough bark—had fallen across the creek and provided a bridge to the other side. The victim lay on the log, tied to it, with one rope around her neck and the other around her feet. Both arms hung uselessly toward the water and she stared up into the rain.

  Techs hustled around, trying to find evidence in the storm. Two figures in white struggled to somehow fix a tarp from one side of the creek to the other to protect the victim from the elements.

  Angus caught the eye of a homicide cop standing to the side and then hustled toward him, ducking under the crime scene tape. “Thanks for calling me.” He waited until Nari had reached him. “HDD Special Agent Nari Zhang, please meet MPD Homicide Detective Tate Bianchi.”

  Nari held out a slim hand and they shook, her dusky coloring a contrast to his deep black skin. “It’s nice to meet you.”

  “Ditto,” Tate said, with rain sliding down his strong face. He stood eye to eye with Angus at six-four and still looked as fit as he’d been years ago, when Angus had last worked with him. “You have to be quick, Force.” Tate released Nari’s hand. “The MPD’s Homeland Security Bureau received word that you’re no longer with HDD or FBI, and I got a special little note from the chief of police about you.”

  “So you called Angus in anyway?” Nari asked softly.

  Tate flashed a rare smile. “Of course. We also want to keep the feds away and keep this case ourselves, so I can only fight on so many fronts right now.” His deep brown eyes sobered. “No kidding. I can give you about five minutes and I’m going to get yelled at, regardless. This way.”

  Angus followed him toward the tree and the victim, dropping to a crouch at the edge of the log. The woman appeared to be in her twenties, with pale skin marred by bruises and burns. Her chest gaped open, the ribs broken and the heart removed. The cuts looked smoother than on the previous victim. This woman’s long hair was wrapped over one side of the log, the rain having darkened it. “She’s blond?” Angus squinted to make out the color in the dark.

  “Redhead,” Tate said. “Compared her hair to a white sheet of paper when we got here, but then it got wet, too. The body’s been here for at least a day, maybe more, and it’s rained the whole time.”

  “You won’t find DNA from the killer anyway,” Angus said, standing. His heart raced. “When did she die?”

  “At least a week ago,” Tate said. “I’ll compare her to the body last night. Makes me worry about tomorrow night, you know?”

  Angus nodded. “This guy is definitely messing with us. Lassiter did like to play games.”

  Tate’s shoulders straightened. “She’s not blond or particularly tall, Force. The MO is different. Before you ask, we’ve scoured the area, and no note. There’s no note for you. I think we have a copycat.”

  Angus stood. “Did you see any tattoos on her?”

  “No, but we haven’t turned her over yet.” Tate shook his head. “You need to get out of here. I’ll send you the lab report when we get one, but then I’m done. As much as I like you, I don’t want to lose my job over this, especially because this isn’t Lassiter.”

  Angus stared at the victim. He shook his head. “I don’t like the coincidence.”

  Tate frowned. “What coincidence?”

  Nari hadn’t spoken, but she’d turned pale beneath her smooth skin. “The redhead. First a Chinese woman and now a redhead. I’m Chinese, and another member of our team is Irish with red hair. Could be a coincidence, but it could also be some psycho playing with our team, Angus. Or what used to be our team. You did get a lot of press when Lassiter died, and a new crazy bastard might want to take up where Lassiter finished.”

  It was possible, but every instinct Angus had told him that Lassiter was playing with him. “If I lose my mind, he wins,” he muttered.

  Tate glanced his way. “Then don’t lose your mind. I saw the closed file on Lassiter. He died, Angus.”

  “I saw it, too,” Angus said grimly. “There was a picture of him in the morgue, a record of his cremation, and a note that the ashes were given to the nanny who raised him. She signed for the ashes, spread them somewhere, and then died two years later.” He’d questioned everyone that woman had known, but she’d been a recluse. “Every ‘I’ is dotted.”

  Tate sighed and wiped rain off his smooth head. “We have a killer, but it’s not yours. Yours is dead. Stop letting his ghost haunt you.”

  Angus nodded, his head aching. “All right. Let me know when you want to interview me.”

  Tate started. “Why would I do that?”

  “The coincidence, Tate. It never really is one.” Angus took Nari’s arm and turned back down the dark trail, his gut churning and his temper slowly awakening. By coming out of seclusion, and by forming a team, he’d created targets for a killer. One was the stunning woman walking silently next to him. The HDD had just given him the perfect opportunity to protect everybody. He had to disband his team and put them in his rearview mirror for good.

  Now.

  * * *

  Most of the drive was made in silence as the heat dried their muddy clothing. Nari turned off the interstate while the dog snored from the back seat and Angus sat quietly, his head back and his eyes closed. He hadn’t spoken a word since leaving the crime scene and she couldn’t think of anything to say. It had been terrible, and her insides felt hollow. How did he live with what he’d seen over the years?

  She pulled into the parking area of Angus’s apartment building, which was just a few miles from their former office. The building was an eighties-style stucco with a clay tile roof, as out of place outside DC as it could be. The complex was massive and always felt empty. Most of its residents were DC and Virginia workers who spent little time there after work. No doubt Angus had settled for the first thing he’d found and then had never tried to find a real home. Would he ever create one?

  He opened his e
yes and stared at his building.

  She stopped the car. “What’s your plan? Is the team going to meet here?”

  “No.” His voice sounded off. “It’s not Lassiter, Nari. It might be somebody messing with the team, or the two victims and their appearances might just be a coincidence. But there are other people to investigate this case. I was involved only if it was Lassiter.” He sounded weary. Lost.

  She swallowed and turned to face him, rain battering the windshield of her car. “Why the change of mind?”

  He ran a hand through his still-damp hair. “Lassiter was obsessed with his victim type. No way would he alter that, even to mess with me. His mother was a long-legged blonde, and he hated her. His victims were all long-legged blondes and he’d never be able to tweak that.”

  She nodded. “Agreed.” Maybe there was hope that Angus could find peace now. It was all she’d ever wanted for him.

  “So, we’re out. Somebody else can find this psycho. I’ll agree to an interview just in case it’s a copycat trying to mess with me because I took down Lassiter, but then Roscoe and I are going home. Away from this damn city.”

  At his name, Roscoe snorted and stretched in the back seat.

  A pang hit Nari right in the chest. They were really leaving? She bit her lip. All this was too real. “I’ll miss the two of you.”

  He turned then, his green eyes a laser in the stormy night. “Yeah. We’ll miss you, too. Do you want to come in tonight?”

  She stopped breathing and her body short-circuited. Even her ears felt like they’d been singed. “Huh?”

  He didn’t smile. Didn’t even smirk. His eyes burned with a predatory green fire. “I’m out of here, Nari. For good. I’m asking you if you want to come in for the night. One night. You and me. Just that.”

  The temptation sparked her entire body to full attention. Just one night to deal with whatever this was between them. It hurt to think of him leaving, but it also hurt to consider that there was only one night. One chance for closeness with him. The words wouldn’t come, so she let her reactions take over. “I’m not a one-night stand type of gal,” she murmured, almost to herself.