Masked Desire

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Masked Desire Page 9

by Alana Delacroix


  “Hiro was killed by one of us.” Michaela said the unspoken thought. “We suspected so.”

  A glum silence hung over the team. Cormac sat back and sampled his seaweed, curious to see how Michaela handled it. Motivating a depressed team was the mark of a good commander.

  He’d once been good at it himself.

  “I want to focus on Hiro and who he’s been speaking to lately,” Michaela said as she passed the napkins. “I also want to find out the story behind those patches on his arms.”

  From the way they threw out ideas, the team was clearly cheered to be given set tasks. By the end of the lunch, they had a new plan and Michaela had invigorated her team. They left chattering in low voices.

  “That was well done,” he said.

  Michaela blinked, then narrowed her eyes. “What do you mean?”

  He sighed. Normally he approved of suspicion when it came to fey compliments but this one had been real. “Good God, woman. I’m offering you a compliment. Don’t let it go to that swollen masquerada ego of yours.”

  “Oh. Umm. Thank you.” She glanced down and up in a shy way that hooked his heart.

  “Michaela.” Madden’s deep voice came from the doorway.

  “Madden.” Michaela’s smile disappeared. Cormac knew she had a close relationship with the vampire, but it looked like it was fraying. Not surprising. It was unusual for mentorships between different arcane races to happen in the first place, victims of inter-group mistrust and posturing.

  “How is the investigation coming along?” Madden asked.

  Michaela gave him a quick update and he frowned. “The fury of the attack concerns me, and those patches of skin missing are more than unusual. No arcana takes trophies like that. Do you have any leads there?”

  Madden’s voice was calm and soothing. A vampire’s ability to charm was one of their greatest assets and even those on their guard could be lulled into complacency under a vampire’s compulsions.

  Interesting that Madden had honed in on that one topic for his compulsion. Cormac cut in before Michaela could reply. Fey were less swayed by vampires than other arcana.

  “Not yet,” he said.

  “It’s painful to discuss as I know it will hurt you, but I also know that it’s pertinent to what you’re doing.” Madden gazed at the door. “I should have mentioned it before. Hiro had no love for the arcane world.”

  Cormac waited. This was no shock. Hiro had been open about his belief that the Law was not enough to keep humanity safe from what he once called cold killers. He had not been pleased when Cormac had pulled out a list of environmental degradations, massacres, and various villainies perpetrated by humans on their compatriots. In fact, Hiro had blamed all of those instances on arcana interference. Rather hysterically, Cormac thought.

  A ghostly smile crossed Madden’s face. “I see you know that.”

  “He made no secret of it,” Michaela pointed out.

  “No, I suppose he didn’t. He spoke of his concerns with me a few times. He was particularly against masquerada.”

  Michaela shrugged. “Not surprising. Many distrust us, find us more unnatural than the others.”

  Cormac wondered if she was directing this at him.

  “You in particular, Michaela. Personally.”

  This seemed to sincerely surprise her. “Me? What about Baptiste?”

  “Only you,” Madden said. “You are in a powerful role that he wanted.”

  “He wanted to be in charge of security?” Michaela leaned forward. “When did he say this? I didn’t know.”

  “Didn’t you ever wonder why he was so opinionated where you were concerned? Why he always challenged you? Questioned your decisions?”

  “He was being contrary. He did it to everyone.”

  “No. Not all of us.” Madden smoothed his cuff. “You. He was found in your office.”

  “I knew nothing of this,” she said. “I didn’t kill him.”

  “No one would accuse you of such a thing,” Madden said with a slight scoffing tone. “I merely thought to provide you with some insight.”

  Michaela’s face maintained its usual blank slate. “Of course,” she said. “Thank you.”

  Madden stood. “Now, if you’ll excuse me…” He left, and Cormac leaned over to shut the door behind him.

  “What an asshole,” he said.

  “He’s my mentor,” Michaela said automatically. Some of that old loyalty still remained, then. “It’s his job to tell me about”—she paused—“things.”

  He rolled his eyes. “He accused you of killing Hiro. With me in the room.”

  “Because he wanted me to know that I was vulnerable there.”

  “I think that was clear enough when he appointed me Watcher. Maybe he could have done it in private?”

  She glared at him. “You follow me everywhere. When would he have the chance?”

  She shut the conversation down by sitting at the computer and typing at a furious rate. Cormac let her stew for exactly three minutes by the clock and cleared his throat.

  “I don’t think you killed him.”

  The typing stopped. “Thank you?”

  “No need to thank me,” he said expansively. This made her lip quiver and she finally smiled.

  “The rest do.”

  “Certainly. However, if you killed Hiro, you would have had the sense to not do it in your office.” He paused. “Unless you were enraged by him using your keyboard. I think that’s grounds for murder.”

  Now she laughed out loud. “Me too.” She pushed away her laptop. “If you don’t think I did it, why did you bother being Watcher?”

  Time for the truth. “I wanted that forest from Hiro and needed to make sure he wasn’t killed to stop me from getting it.”

  “You could have asked for updates.”

  As if she would have provided him anything but obfuscating claptrap. There was no point in even dignifying that with a reply. “Here are the three options as I see them. You were the target. Hiro was the target. Someone who is not you killed Hiro, either to set you up or out of convenience, because that’s where they found him.”

  “A set-up would answer why he was in my office,” she said.

  “Can you think of any enemies you have?”

  She looked at him with wide eyes, and they both burst out laughing.

  Chapter 12

  Her enemies. Where to even start? She shook her head. “This is like a locked room mystery.”

  “A what?” A shock of shimmering hair fell over his eyes and she stared. “Your hair shines,” she blurted out. It did, too, almost rippling with pale morning sunlight.

  “I use a great shampoo. Tell me about that mystery.”

  “People in a room and one is killed, except there’s no way any of them could get in or out.” She paused. “Sort of like that book about the train.”

  He moved closer. “In these mysteries, who is the killer?”

  She was a bit breathless. “The one you think has a cast-iron alibi.”

  “Which is not you.” Cormac stood beside Michaela. She’d forgotten what it was like to work with an equal, rather than to lead a team. Surprisingly, she realized she’d been enjoying their discussion.

  He bent down to her and Michaela’s gut clenched at his mouth being so close to hers. A kiss.

  She pulled herself away. No. Too intimate. She’d never shared a kiss with a lover, only had them taken.

  Her phone rang, interrupting the moment. “It’s Brad from IT.”

  Brad was as laconic as ever. “Found something. Come see.”

  Finally, a lead. She led Cormac into the hall.

  “I was looking for you.” Baptiste came around the corner in his favorite masque, based on an old Creole undertaker he’d once known. “Got anything?”

  Baptiste was the o
nly person on the council who could come out and ask her without causing her to bristle. He was renowned for his honesty and Eric often consulted him for advice.

  “Not yet.” It hurt to admit it. She’d never failed to solve a situation before.

  “Man was an asshole, mei mei. You know that. He probably rubbed someone the wrong way. Definitely one of us, though.”

  Cormac glanced over. “How do you know?”

  “Go talk to your trees, plant man.” Baptiste’s eyes were wide and knowing. “See what the dolma tells you.”

  “What the hell does that mean?” Michaela scrutinized them both but neither man’s face revealed a thing. What could trees tell them about Hiro’s killer?

  “What about the trees?” repeated Michaela impatiently.

  Baptiste laughed. “Not my story, mei mei. Heard you visited the big man today.”

  “Eric tell you?”

  “Stephan.” That made sense. The two men were old friends. “You see him?”

  Michaela knew what he was asking. “He’s looking better.”

  “Needs to get over that vampire woman is what the fucker needs.”

  Cormac’s eyebrows shot up and Michaela took pity on him. “Stephan was seeing a vampire for a while but it didn’t work out.” That was an understatement, but Stephan wouldn’t thank her for sharing his emotional baggage. He’d tried to hide it but he had fallen for Estelle hard and fast. Michaela pitied him. She let only Ivy that close to her heart, and that was mostly because of her promise to Yao’s memory. It was safest that way.

  Baptiste shook his head. “Can’t live your lives for you, sadly. Look at you.”

  She gave him the same look she used to quell overenthusiastic salespeople. “We’ve been through this.” Baptiste was a vigorous proponent of using emotional ties to ward off le vide, the fatal ennui that could affect arcana. He constantly pointed to his relationship with his mate Keenan as a model for Michaela, who he claimed was withering without passion.

  “I still don’t like it. Keenan is the heart of my soul. He keeps me sane and grounded.” Baptiste stared at Cormac as he spoke and Cormac gave him a big grin, then winked at Michaela.

  “I have Ivy,” she said firmly.

  “A human,” sniffed Baptiste. “She will die and then where will you be?” He caught sight of Michaela’s expression and grimaced. “I apologize, mei mei. That was unforgivably rude.”

  Michaela glared at him. “Stop living my life, Baptiste. I don’t live yours.”

  Baptiste shot his eyes over to Cormac but said nothing.

  “Stephan tell you about the dead humans?” Michaela changed the subject.

  The masquerada nodded. “Heard. Going over later to see for myself. Get Eric to spot me a meal, Caro to tell me a story. Fine storyteller, that woman.” He waved and left.

  “He calls you mei mei,” Cormac said. Little sister.

  “Baptiste is about a decade older than I am, we think. He likes to remind me of it.”

  “Michaela.” He stopped. “That’s not Chinese. What’s your real name?”

  “Miaoling.” She frowned. “Why, what’s yours?”

  An incomprehensible stream of silken sound came from Cormac’s lips. She tilted her head. “That doesn’t sound like Cormac.”

  “I know. That’s the point. Names have power, Michaela.” He looked over as he said her name, intimate as a caress.

  “What power did I give you?” The teasing question came out before she could monitor herself.

  He didn’t answer but gave a long, raking look that made her belly heavy.

  In the middle of the hallway.

  During a murder investigation.

  She clenched her fists and forced herself to focus. “We should, ah, get going.” Nice. Very articulate. She couldn’t help it. It had been a long time since a man had looked at her with such desire.

  She didn’t even like Cormac.

  Did she?

  Cormac looked over. “Over to IT?”

  Work. Right. They’d been on their way before Baptiste had come. He fell into step beside her and his hand brushed hers. A shock, so sudden it felt electric, shot into her very bones and forced her to skitter away. Cormac seemed not to notice and she was grateful. What was going on with her? Working with the fey ambassador was definitely better than she expected, but her bar for success had been admittedly low.

  Very powerful fey had the same compulsion powers as vampires. Was he deliberately clouding her judgment?

  That had to be it. There was no way she could be attracted to Cormac.

  * * * *

  The moment she jumped back Cormac knew two things.

  First, he wanted Michaela Chui so badly he could almost taste her.

  Second, Michaela wanted him.

  The thought made him harden instantly. The remote Michaela Chui wanted him. She might not even know it herself, but one of the earliest lessons of the fey court was how to read hidden desires. She was good at hiding her feelings, but he could see the need in her body as clearly as if she had announced it on a megaphone. Her eyes had closed, so briefly, and her breath had quickened. He had wanted to feel her desire since that moment in the car.

  The question was, would she ever admit it? Would she act on it?

  Christ, he hoped so.

  He thought not.

  He hoped not.

  Yeah, right. Who was he kidding? He’d spent more of this investigation thinking about her than he had Hiro but he had no guilt. Michaela was a flame under that marble exterior and he wanted to see it burn hard—turn it into an inferno.

  Those were thoughts for another time. She wouldn’t thank him if he interfered with her work. There was time to do it properly and that time was not in front of her security team, who were waiting outside of the IT office to usher them in.

  Michaela didn’t pause. “Tell me.”

  Brad pulled out a phone. “We took another look at Hiro’s phone with advice from General Minor. He was right. There was an app we missed.”

  “How?”

  “It’s usually used by human teenagers to save illicit images and files. It’s hidden behind an innocent app, such as a calculator.”

  “Remarkable.” Cormac stared at it. Human adolescents showed much ingenuity when it came to sex. “How did you find it?”

  “The storage used didn’t match what we were seeing, so we went looking. Found screenshots of messages but we don’t have all the details. It looks like they go back about a year. Maybe less.”

  Cormac scrolled through the messages. “I’d like to take this home to study it,” he said.

  Brad glanced at Michaela. “It would be good to get some help,” he said apologetically.

  Michaela nodded. “If you don’t have a problem, Brad, fine.”

  Cormac shut his mouth. He’d been ready to argue with her, sure she was going to—rightfully—point out that as Watcher, he had no right to take part in the investigation. He examined her out of the corner of his eye. Was she permitting him to help because she believed in his ability and wanted to get Brad some much needed assistance? Or was it for a more personal reason? Perhaps Madden’s accusation had rattled her more than she let on.

  If her own mentor had turned on her, she would need all the allies she could get to prove her innocence. Even him.

  Chapter 13

  When Cormac leaned over her to take the phone, his lush pine scent immediately derailed her thinking process. It took a moment for her to regain her control. She casually stepped away as though simply looking for a good place to take some notes. She’d been attracted to men before but this was unexpected and very bad timing. Not to mention ill-advised. She had no problem taking pleasure on offer, but she made sure of her partners beforehand. No strings. No lingering attachments.

  Brad’s eyes were already fixed longingly at
his computer again, so Michaela took her leave. Dev caught them in the hall and brought them into a nearby room.

  “I checked into Hiro’s relationship with Madden, as you asked,” he said. A single dark curly lock had escaped from his usual slicked-back hair and he pushed it away impatiently.

  “Doesn’t sound good.” Michaela braced herself.

  “They’ve been seen at the bar before,” he said. “It could be for a personal or a business relationship, but my gut says business.”

  “They left at different times?” she asked.

  “Arrived separately as well, and never touched.”

  That didn’t sound like a couple. “Anything else?”

  “Haven’t tracked them anywhere else, but sometimes they had other men with them. Don’t know who but we assume they weren’t arcana. They arrived and left with Hiro.”

  “Thanks, Dev.”

  “Hey, any time I can expense my bar tab is good for me.”

  Cormac put his hand on her arm when they were out in the hall and a wave of comfort overtook her. How ironic it would be if Cormac ended up being the one she could trust. She nearly laughed.

  “You’re tired,” Cormac said.

  “It’s been a busy day.”

  “Time to go home?”

  She ignored the suggestive way he phrased the question. There was nothing more she could do here. It might be best to go back to disconnect from the case for an evening and sleep on it.

  She took out her keys.

  “I’ll drive.” Cormac held out his hand.

  Now she did laugh. “I thought you didn’t know how.”

  “Really.” He arched his brow. “Give me the keys.”

  Bemused, she handed them over and followed him to the car. Without asking, he held her back as he checked before opening the doors.

  “Thanks,” she said.

  “Self-preservation,” he said as he put the car in reverse. “If they blow up you, they blow up me.”

  Michaela observed him as he turned out. Cormac was a good driver. Why this should surprise her, she had no idea. “You drive well.”

  “I do.”

  “Where did you learn?”

 

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