“What did she say?”
“She left immediately after giving her statement.” Liza’s jaw ticked, but she wouldn’t take her eyes off the road. “You need to go to her and explain the truth. She’s already been hounding Max and Sloan. That woman does not give up.”
A small smile tilted Tony’s lips. She was a strong woman. A sneaky sense of pride puffed in his chest, and he looked away in case Liza noticed.
She was worried about him.
Bailey.
He conjured his memory of the morning, about to indulge in nostalgia, but the moment he thought of his mate, his body reacted viscerally. His hormones skyrocketed. His hands heated with the promise of power, a constant reminder that he had no choice in this life. Damn it. Every time his hormones went into turmoil, he couldn’t control himself. Heat prickled his skin, and then he felt a little off. No doubt, his body didn’t like him stifling his powers, but he didn’t enjoy being forced into a situation.
“Tony. I said you need to go after her, did you hear me?”
“I’m not the guy who goes after the woman,” he stated. The very thought of putting himself out there, open to rejection, made his stomach twist into knots.
The car screeched to a stop.
He barely avoided hitting his head on the dash. “What the—”
“Are you kidding me?” Liza screeched, furious. Livid. It was so out of character that Tony could do nothing but stare. Cars beeped behind them, but she only rolled down her window, snapped her siren back on top, and then gave their tooters the finger. Back at Tony, she lowered her brows. “You have a woman, Tony. Whether you or she admits it, you already belong together. Your biology has done half the job. The only way you can fuck this up is if you keep saying shit like that... OOoh. I’m not the guy who goes after women,” she mocked. “Get your head out of your ass.”
Tony squirmed. “Chill out.”
Hell broke loose on Liza’s features and she punched Tony in the arm.
Both of them went still, shocked.
She blinked.
He blinked. She’d really punched him. It hurt.
Then her face screwed up and she repeatedly jabbed him until he cried out for her to stop, half laughing at the absurdity of it. He tried pushing her back, but it was like trying to stop a hurricane. He was five again, and his six-year-old sister was punishing him for stealing her favorite rope of raspberry licorice she had been saving for a rainy day. But this was different, or maybe it was the same all along and he was only just getting it. This wasn’t Tony stealing her licorice. This was Tony having what she couldn’t. Because lust made her sick.
He stopped fighting her, braced, and took it. He let his sister punch him until he was sure bruises formed. She needed this.
A man in his forties came up to her open window and peeked inside. “You need a hand in there, miss?”
Her firearm was out of its holster and pointed at the surprised man’s face before he could blink. “I’m a city detective, asswipe. I’m punching him.” Then she rolled the window up and resumed driving, mumbling more curses at the stupidity of men in the city.
For minutes they drove in silence. Tony was almost too afraid to speak. He cleared his throat. “You’ll find someone, you know.”
Her fingers gripped the steering wheel so tight her knuckles went white, and he knew he’d hit the mark. When she spoke, her voice was strained. “It’s just, you have your person right there. Some of us—me, Daisy, maybe even the arrogant King of Pride—we’ll never have what is staring you in the face. She’s waiting for you to go to her and explain everything, and you’re not going to do it. Why?”
That she might say no, that she would see the real Tony was all an act... it terrified him. So he changed the subject. “I have a theory about our mates. I think they only need to embody the exact opposite of our sin right at the start, right when our powers are triggered. Think about it, Max has embodied his share of sloth lounging in bed with Sloan. Misha has exhibited a touch of wrath and blasted Wyatt on more than one occasion. She’s definitely not always the opposite of wrath, yet he still can’t sense the sin in her. She’s still his haven when they touch.”
A pause. “What are you saying?”
“I know you’re afraid you won’t find someone you can have a relationship without feeling sick every time you—”
“Stop right there. I’m not talking about sex with my brother.”
He shrugged. She was Lust. She got the picture. There was hope. Maybe even for Daisy to overcome her despair. God knew Parker had no chance with his pride. Getting through his thick head would be a chore.
The car pulled up next to Lazarus House. Liza looked at Tony with serious eyes. “Here’s your chance, brother. She’s in the lobby waiting for you. Has been for the past hour. You either head in there, explain everything, or just go straight to Hell and drink your sorrows. Either way, you need to make a choice and stick with it.”
His heart stopped beating.
She was in the lobby.
Bailey was in the lobby.
Here.
It was just a small foyer with a desk to one side where the doorman sat, and an elevator that went up to their apartments, or down to the secret underground base. But it was so much more than that with her in it.
Lazarus House was an impressive multi-story apartment building with the restaurant Heaven on one side of the lobby, and the nightclub Hell on the other. Both places were frequent haunts of his. Good food, good drinks, and good women. Plenty of women, but never enough. Not until Bailey.
He shifted his gaze to the line of patrons outside Hell. Celebrities visited the popular nightspot. It was notorious for its privacy and no media rule. Everyone wanted to see inside and get a taste for themselves. Most of them would be turned away because Parker held a very exclusive list for hand-picked clientele.
“What are you afraid of, Tony?”
As if in answer, the blue in his veins lit up the interior of the car. “Shit. I can’t go out like this.”
“Yes, you can.”
He growled when she reached over him to open his door. He whacked her out of the way.
“Oh, don’t be such a baby,” she said and did it anyway, then gave him a testing look.
The door swung open, giving everyone on the street the perfect view into the car, and to him. He clamped down on his power, suppressed the shit out of it, and ended up sweating from exertion. It felt like his veins had twisted beneath his skin. His body didn’t like being told to wait. It had to. What if he couldn’t control it?
But there he was.
Unlocking his seatbelt, he shot his sister a glare, and then unfolded himself from the car. He made it two steps across the sidewalk when someone called his name and he froze. It wasn’t Bailey. She was still standing inside the lobby, talking to the doorman and unaware of his approach.
He turned and relaxed. It was Peta from the studio.
The tall assistant was almost unrecognizable. She detached herself from the line for Hell and came trotting over, heels clicking on the concrete. A tight navy dress hugged her form from hips to breasts where the straps held the top together in a halter. Out of its usual bun, her hair tumbled down her shoulders.
“Tony!” A grin stretched her red lips. “I’m so glad you’re here.”
“Peta.” He leaned in and gave her a peck on the cheek. She blushed and sort of twisted toward the line. Tony guessed it was to see if any of her three giggling friends noticed. “Good to see you.”
Peta’s expression drew all businesslike. “I’ve been trying to call you all day.”
“Oh? You want to get on the list?” He whistled to the bouncer, pointed at Peta and then to the door of Hell.
The bouncer nodded and waved Peta’s friends out of the regular line.
“No, um, actually... although thanks... it’s the questions for the press junket tomorrow. I emailed them to you. Donatello wanted you to look them over.”
“Shit. Yeah, sorry. Thanks. I don’t know wh
at I’d do without you.”
“If you need a hand going over them, just let me know.”
“I think I’ll be fine, thanks. See you tomorrow.”
She bit her lip. “We also need to know if you’ll have a plus one for the premiere next week.”
Premiere.
Fuck.
While his life went to shit, the world kept turning without him.
“Yes, I’ll have a plus one.”
For a moment, Peta’s eyes flashed with some unnamed emotion that made him feel a little awkward. She seemed to want to add something, but thought the better of it, and relaxed.
“You’re not coming in?” she asked, pointing back to Hell.
This was his chance. If he was going to forget about his responsibilities, avoid Bailey and everything else, this was his opening. Easier to fuck up now and never face the failure he knew was inevitable. The drink was calling. Peta’s perfume smelled heady. He could so easily…
He shook his head and stepped away, out of Peta’s scented cloud. His body already sensed Bailey in there. Another scent tugged at his memory. Bailey’s coconut shampoo.
“Not tonight,” he said to Peta.
“Oh. Okay. Tomorrow, then.”
He waved and headed into the lobby.
Fourteen
Bailey watched Tony talk to the leggy brunette and couldn’t help the irritation swimming in her chest. Having no idea where he’d gone after she’d snapped at him, it had tied her in knots all afternoon. The man had just disappeared. He’d saved lives, and then he’d disappeared before she had the chance to thank him.
And to ask what the hell he was hiding. She kind of knew, but needed to hear it from him. She wouldn’t let him leave her sight tonight until she found out.
“I’m clocking off for the day. You okay to keep waiting, Miss Haze?” Gus the doorman asked. The older man had kept her company while she waited for Tony to arrive home.
Bailey had become friendly with Gus over the past few months. The first time she had been in the lobby was when Max was kidnapped, and the Lazarus family had tried to hide it from her and the rest of the Nightingale crew. She’d all but burst down the door demanding information. While Damien and Tomas had believed Parker’s lame excuse about Max being on a sudden secret assignment, she wasn’t nearly as trusting.
That same niggling suspicion picked at her nerves. Tony was hiding something. She knew it. No one had the combat skills he had unless they kept up to date with training, and a movie star simply did not train the same way. They trained in slow motion. It was all fake.
“Miss?” Gus asked again.
“Sorry, Gus. I was lost in thought. Tony’s here. I’m sure I’ll be fine letting myself out after I have a word with him.”
Gus saluted her with his aviator cap and then headed out. He passed Tony coming in at the same time. They said a few cordial words, Tony clapped the man on the shoulder, and then it was just Tony and Bailey alone in the small, cold lobby.
He wore the same jeans and T-shirt he’d worn earlier that day, and with his baseball hat now off, his brown hair still looked like he’d just gotten out of bed. He’d not returned home since he’d left Hudson House. Bailey folded her arms.
This was it. The moment of truth.
She’d been gathering clues regarding the Lazarus family sketchiness since Max went missing. At first, she’d kept telling herself, it was her CIA paranoia kicking in, but as the evidence mounted, she’d had no other option but to arrive at the indisputable truth. The Lazarus family were the Deadly Seven. They had to be. It was the only answer that made sense.
“I’ve been trying to contact you,” she stated.
He put his hands in his pockets and hunched. After a breath, he lifted his long-lashed gaze to meet hers. They were ten feet apart, yet she could feel his body heat across the expanse of the tiled floor. Her body hummed with awareness of him. It threw every demand out of her head.
“I wanted to thank you,” she added and took a step in his direction. “And I’m sorry I lost my cool, but it’s my job to keep you safe, and at the time, it hadn’t hit me yet that you obviously don’t need my help...” Her voice became breathy and trailed off when she caught the intense longing on the man’s face. His eyes were glued to her lips, lids lowered, mesmerized as she spoke. He wasn’t even listening to her words. It was distracting.
“Tony.”
His gaze snapped up to hers.
“What’s going on?” she asked. “This time, tell me the truth. No running away.”
All sultriness evaporated from his expression. He scratched his head. “I-ah-I.” Then he looked at his exposed hand, eyes wide.
Thin lines of blue glowed along the back of Tony’s hands, tracing the network of his veins like lace needlework. He appeared confused. Disorientated. Definitely not special effects.
At Hudson House, she’d accused him of making fun of her and had immediately regretted it. She’d overreacted. She’d never been in a life or death situation with someone she had feelings for, not for a long time. And she couldn’t deny it now. She had feelings for him. Big ones. The size that couldn’t be ignored. She’d been surprised at the genuine way he’d interacted with the kids at the sobriety house, even when he didn’t know she was watching. Tony Lazarus was just as charming off screen as he was on it. That morning had crossed a boundary for her, and she couldn’t go back. She saw a side of him he rarely showed anyone else. And if her suspicions were true about him, she’d only just scratched the surface of knowing him.
Bailey stepped forward.
“Tony,” she started, but he backed up.
“You shouldn’t come near me. Not like this.” He frowned and hunched over, shaking his head. “I don’t want you to see me like this.”
She took another step. “Like what? The glow? It’s okay, I’ve already seen it.”
He shook his head. The blue glow grew brighter, and a sheen of sweat broke out across his brow.
“You’re one of them, aren’t you?” She held her hand out, eyes already enthralled by the glittering blue threads now delineating his forearms, casting them into the perfect shape of masculine strength. “You’re one of the Seven. If I had to take a stab, with your excessive lifestyle, I’d guess Gluttony. Am I right?”
She thought it would calm him, or he’d feel like a weight had been lifted from his shoulders, but he looked pained. Hurt. Like his world was tumbling into chaos, and she couldn’t help but feel a sense of kinship with him. She knew what it was like for events to spiral out of control. She still remembered how it felt to sit in the hospital, a police officer telling her that her best friend had died in the accident she’d caused as a teen. As a drunk teen.
She wanted to help him.
Most law enforcement officers thought vigilantes were a thorn in their sides, but Bailey had left the CIA for the same reasons people became vigilantes. Red tape stopped a lot of good being done and let many criminals go free. She’d been living a one-woman hopeless mission to reduce the hard drugs getting into the country. The CIA may color outside the lines of law, but with every bad guy they’d nabbed, it was always just a stepping stone to a larger criminal. Often those smaller criminals were let go because there are always bigger fish to fry.
“You can trust me, Tony. I’ll keep your secret.”
If he heard her words, she couldn’t tell, because the man’s eyes promptly rolled back in his head and he collapsed onto the tiled floor. For a few seconds, she stood there, unblinking.
Seeing a large, healthy man collapse was simply something she’d never seen. And when Tony began to shake and convulse, her heart leaped into her throat.
“Tony?” Her voice came out shaky and she inched closer. She kneeled and placed two fingers to his carotid. He sighed and his lashes fluttered at her contact. His trembling subsided, but he didn’t wake. His pulse was weak and erratic. A fever burned so hot she almost had to take her hand back.
Tony was in trouble. He wouldn’t want her to ca
ll an ambulance, but did she have the luxury not to do it?
Bailey searched the lobby for help, but it was empty. She looked through the glass doors to the street where people walked on the sidewalk. There were windows on either side of the lobby that peeked into the two establishments, Hell and Heaven. But from the way no one noticed them, the windows were one-way. She had to get him out of sight from the street until help arrived.
But first, she took her cell phone out and called Max. Then she placed the phone on the ground while she hooked her hands under Tony’s arms and dragged him toward the elevator. Good God, the big guy was heavy. Those muscles weren’t for show.
He groaned.
“Don’t worry Tony, I’m calling for help.” She ran the back of her fingers down his cheeks. His big hand came up and engulfed hers.
“No,” he mumbled. “I’m fine.”
“You’re not fine, Tony. You have a fever. You’re sick.”
Bailey’s call connected.
“Haze,” came Max’s gruff voice. “I told you to wait until you speak with Tony. I’m really sorry, but it’s not my place to—”
“That’s just it,” she blurted. “I’m with Tony now and something’s wrong. He passed out.”
A pause. “From booze?”
“No! His veins glowed, and then he just passed out.”
“Shit. Stay there. Wait. Where are you?”
“I’m in the Lazarus House lobby.”
“Don’t wait there. Get inside an elevator, ask AIMI to take you down to the basement. I’ll get everyone to meet you down there.”
Then the line went dead.
Goddammit!
“Who the hell is Amy?”
“I’m AIMI. Your artificial intelligence management interface.” A computerized feminine voice came over a lobby speaker.
Bailey jolted. “Um. I need to get Tony to the basement. Can you help me?”
“Please lift your face to the camera so I can confirm your identity and security access.”
Camera. Camera. Bailey searched the ceiling. She couldn’t see the camera and was about to explain when AIMI spoke.
“Identity confirmed. Bailey Haze, Tony Lazarus’s mate and security specialist for Nightingale Securities. You may enter the elevator.”
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