Masked Possession

by Alana Delacroix

  Then why did she feel guilty?

  No. The time for secrets was over and she would come clean. When Eric came back, she would sit him down and tell him exactly what happened with Iverson, not the half-truth she’d given him. He would know about her life as Lynn. Maybe she could even help him.

  If he didn’t kick her out for being a liar.

  Thinking about this conversation made her toss and turn in bed and she finally decided to get a glass of water. On her way to the bathroom, she passed Eric’s desk and glanced down. A reporter never passed a desk without a look, and she, like most of her old colleagues, was adept at reading upside down.

  Not that she needed that particular skill to see YEATS, C. written in heavy black print on the margin of the second folder.

  She didn’t hesitate. The hell with any privacy arguments. If that file was about her, she was going to read it. Caro reached out with trembling fingers as a strange rushing filled her ears. It took her a moment to realize that it was her own heartbeat.

  Tom had been thorough, but as she paged through with sweaty hands, she was pleased to note that he hadn’t made the connection between Caro Yeats and Lynn Butler. She knew she’d done a good, smart job, but it was nice to be validated. That’s not to say, though, that what he’d found didn’t look dodgy. According to the file, Caro had simply appeared in Toronto and started working about a year ago. No history at all. Julien’s messy HR processes sure came in handy when trying to keep information secret. She could sense the security chief’s frustration steaming off the page and allowed herself a quick rush of triumph.

  Next was a page with a complicated table. It took only two lines for her to realize it was the results of a DNA test. She glanced at the top. There was her name and below it, letters from A to F. They had taken a DNA sample from her. Without permission.

  That was bad. Then she flipped the page to find it even worse. Surveillance records. Eric had her every move mapped since the day they’d met. Her eyes widened as she ran her finger down the page. Going to work. Groceries. A photo of her favorite coffee place. Some random bars that didn’t look familiar. Her weekend run on the boardwalk. She flushed as she remembered what had happened in the park and slammed the file shut. Her meeting with Franz Iverson. This she read twice, blood pounding in her ears. She could see Tom’s hand here—it made her sound like she was an instigator in the whole meeting with Iverson.

  Then she saw the recommendation that she be kept close and monitored.

  So that’s what Eric was doing. He did believe Tom. She was about to bare her soul and he was basically keeping her under house arrest, when not having his people steal her DNA and follow her when she went to buy an avocado. Well, fuck Mr. Hierarch Eric Kelton. She had been right all along.

  Bitter disappointment flooded her. You couldn’t trust a masquerada.

  * * * *

  The meeting was rough and when it was over, Eric sought out Caro without even thinking, knowing that her presence would soothe him. No need to involve her in the Iverson issue, but he needed to be with her for a few moments of peace. With luck, she’d still be in bed. Maybe nude. He hurried through the halls only to find an empty room.

  “Caro?”

  No answer.

  Strange. The bed was mussed, so she’d slept a bit. Then he caught sight of a beige rectangle lying on the covers, papers spilling out of it. Jesus. Her file. Tom had told him it was ready, and naturally would have left it for him on his desk. Naturally Caro would see it. Naturally, she’d be upset that he’d done such a thing. As he picked it up and paged through it, his heart sank. By the time he was looking at the surveillance summaries, he knew she would be furious. Not to mention how she’d feel when she saw Tom’s ridiculous recommendation.

  He paused at the page for Sunday. Someone had been watching them at the park. His jaw tightened. He hadn’t known that Tom would be so…methodical.

  He could talk to Tom later. Now he had to explain to Caro. Before he shut the folder, he saw the genetics summary and had a brief internal debate. Tom had taken the sample from Caro without permission and she would probably be angry about that. Rightfully so. At the same time, the information was here, sitting in his hand. Curiosity won out. Who was she? He pored over the tables, before snapping the folder shut. Interesting. Very interesting.

  Now, to find Caro and explain.

  Chapter 30

  Caro knew it would be unwise to go back to her apartment. In fact, it was probably stupid to go anywhere in the city, but at least it was broad daylight and people would be around—Iverson wouldn’t be able to touch her without causing a scene. She would be in and out of the office and at Pearson airport within the hour. No problem. Good thing she always carried her passport.

  When she arrived at JDPR, Estelle gave her a smile that slid off when she took a good look at Caro. “Good lord, girl, you’ve got the flu. Why are you here?”

  “I’m quitting and getting my stuff.” Caro tossed the words behind her as she marched through to her office. That was her plan—clear her office, tell Julien she was leaving, and get out. In fact, she would have told Julien by email but she had a desperate need to collect the Lynn Butler clipping from her desk. She almost craved it, the only real thing she had in a life that was rapidly becoming completely untethered.

  “You’re what?” Estelle leapt out from behind the desk and followed her down the hall. “Did you say you quit? What’s going on with you?”

  I learned that not only can I shift, but I like it and that was sort of crazy, and that I thought I was falling in love and got woken up from that quickly and, oh, the guy who I put in jail is in the city and probably wants to kill me because he tried before and has basically told me it is going to happen.

  Instead, she said, “I need a change.”

  “Then get a haircut. What’s the matter with you? It’s Eric Kelton, isn’t it?” Estelle’s chest swelled with indignation. “That asshole.”

  Caro winced. He was in fact a mega-asshole but she didn’t like to hear it from others. “It’s got nothing to do with him.”

  “Like hell it doesn’t. You slept with him, didn’t you?”

  “Estelle!”

  “Oh my goodness.” That disconcertingly deep and husky voice drawled out from the office beside Caro. “Sounds juicy.”

  “Hi, Patricia.” Caro tried to smile politely.

  “You know Eric Kelton?” The voice was a little sharper now and Caro frowned.

  “He was a client right before you started,” she said cautiously.

  “Of course.” The woman’s pale blue eyes drilled a hole right through her and if Caro didn’t know better, she would have said Patricia was enraged. God, what if she knew Eric? Whatever. That was over.

  “Excuse me.” Caro shouldered by and went to her office. Within three minutes, she’d found an old plastic bag and had shoved in her spare shoes, her Butler clipping and the makeup kit she left there for emergencies. The blazer she kept for cold days went on, covering the tank top she wore and making her feel slightly more prepared for a meeting with Julien, like a suit of thin woolen armor.

  That meeting came seconds later.

  “Caro, what’s going on?” Julien blocked her way, his expensive cologne scenting the air. Estelle lingered beside him, while Patricia and Robert, pocket square folded to perfection, peeked out of their offices.

  This was turning into quite the party.

  “Julien. Why don’t you come in and we can chat?”

  He walked in and shut the door behind him. “Estelle says you’re quitting.”

  Well, at least now she didn’t have to think about how to break it. “I am. I’m sorry I can’t give more notice, but I need to leave town. Family emergency,” she lied.

  His eyes narrowed slightly. “I thought your parents were dead.”

  “My aunt. It’s quite serious. I don’t know
when I’ll be back.”

  “Mon ange, you can take time off. You don’t have to leave forever.”

  A knock on the door interrupted them. Estelle again. Caro shot daggers at her, but the receptionist was too rattled to notice. Which was odd, because Estelle was usually unshakable. Immortality, or close to it, tended to tone down the startle reflex.

  “Eric Kelton is in the lobby and he—” She broke off and glanced behind her. “I guess he can tell you himself because he’s here.”

  Caro felt her eyes widen as Eric loomed up behind the tiny receptionist. His gaze pinned hers. He nodded at Julien without looking at him and said, “Caro, I’d like to speak to you. Privately.”

  Julien’s lips thinned and he mumbled something in French as he slid by Eric, who growled back a reply in the same language. Julien stalked out the door, shooting him a black look even as he pocketed an old brochure that lay on Caro’s desk. Caro saw him go out of her peripheral vision. Her attention was riveted on Eric, who hadn’t taken his eyes off her. Once Julien was gone, Eric shut the door, spun around and took two steps until he was right in front of her.

  It was hard to concentrate with him close, but fury focused her. “How did you know I was here?” she demanded. “Wait. I know. It’s because you’ve had someone trailing me all over town like I’m a teenage delinquent. Keeping watch on me because I need to be monitored.” She gave the last words finger quotes.

  “I understand you’re angry.”

  She blinked. “You what? You totally betrayed my trust. You took a DNA sample without my permission. You had me followed by your fucking goon squad. You basically accused me of being with Franz Iverson, after what I told you! And I’m not even going to get into Tom. You understand. Great.”

  “We are in a war situation and Tom made a recommendation he considered necessary. I see it was a problem for you. It’s done. I can’t make it not happen and I didn’t follow it.”

  “Oh, so it’s Tom’s fault.” She realized she was yelling and lowered her voice. No need for the entire goddamn office to hear about her personal life. Which wouldn’t be happening if Eric hadn’t tracked her down like she was some sort of possession.

  “It’s not Tom’s fault,” he said with exaggerated patience. “I want to make sure you’re safe. You scared the hell out of me when I saw you were gone.”

  “Yeah, right. I saw that file. I know what you think about me. And I did fine taking care of myself before you came along.”

  There was a long silence and Caro felt the flush come over her face. “Go ahead and say it,” she said, her voice low and angry. “I know you’re thinking it. Iverson.”

  He leaned in until he was speaking almost against her mouth. Unconsciously, her hands wrapped around his thick biceps and, to her amazement, his strong body shuddered under her touch. She jerked her hands away as if they were on fire.

  “You know Iverson’s out there. He’s already hurt you and wouldn’t hesitate to do it again to get at me.”

  “So?” She stepped away and hit the edge of her desk. “Have you thought that maybe it’s not all about you?” Shit. She hadn’t meant to say that.

  He frowned. “Of course it’s about me. Why else would Iverson target…?” His voice trailed off and he stared at her in shock. “Jesus. What exactly did you do to him?”

  “Oh, excuse me!” A husky voice called from the hall and Patricia opened the door to poke her head in. “Hope I’m not interrupting anything. Julien asked me to get Caro.”

  “Tell him I’m a little busy here.” Caro glared at the mousy woman, wondering for how long the little sneak had been listening outside the door.

  Patricia wasn’t looking at Caro, though. She concentrated on Eric, her unremarkable face lit with an intense dislike that seemed out of place.

  Eric scanned her. “Have we met?” he asked.

  Patricia bared her teeth in a nasty smile. “A few times, sire.”

  Sire? Didn’t Patricia say she was fey? Not a masquerada. Caro stared at her closely.

  Eric also continued to examine her, a deep frown on his face. Patricia went on and Caro felt a cold finger of dread. “Speaking of meetings, I ran into someone from Washington the other day, Caro.”

  This was it. To have it come from Patricia, of all people. Caro's whole perspective started to slow, as if her body realized it was in crisis situation. She should have told him when she had the chance. She would have, if she hadn’t seen that damn file. Well, he had been about to figure it out for himself anyway.

  “I couldn’t believe it when they told me who you were! Lynn Butler, the famous Washington Post reporter. Doing a little investigative reporting on PR stunts? Or masquerada? Lynn?”

  Caro wanted to reply but her mouth was a desert. To his credit, Eric didn’t even pause. “She’s on loan to me. And the Council, of course.”

  “What?” Patricia’s head swung to him like a snake.

  “The editor-in-chief owed me a favor.” He shrugged casually. “I asked for the best and got it. The fact that Lynn is a masquerada was an added bonus.”

  “You lie.”

  “You forget to whom you speak.” Caro nearly gasped as Eric pinned Patricia with his cold glare. His lean and muscular body commanded total respect and obedience. “I am your Hierarch, lowthen.”

  Caro didn’t know what the word meant, but Patricia gasped and bowed her head. “My apologies, sire. I meant no disrespect.”

  “Leave now.”

  She scurried down the hall without looking back, and Caro flinched as Eric turned that icy gaze on her.

  “This is what you were hiding. I knew it was something.”

  Caro knew from the way her cheeks throbbed that she’d gone a deep red. Eric was right to be angry. She’d lied, then reamed him out for lying to her. Now he knew what a hypocrite she was. That was okay, though, because so was he. All that shit he’d given her about trust was nothing. No wonder he didn’t want to show her how to take on a masque. It would have made things harder for his little detectives.

  He believed she was in with Iverson. She bit her lip as the scar in her shoulder twinged. She’d thought they’d had something together. Clearly she’d been wrong. She wouldn’t take all the blame. Eric was a good actor, good enough to make a woman think he was interested in her, and not what access she could give to his enemy. He was the same as Iverson, trying to use her.

  She needed out. Away. Away from him.

  “So now you know,” she said.

  “What the hell were you thinking?” Eric paced the room, clearly furious. “Lynn Butler. You’re the one who put Iverson in jail. That’s your idea of getting in the way of his business? Christ, I can’t believe you’re not dead yet.”

  “I said I can take care of myself.”

  That stopped him dead in his tracks. “You think? You? Against him? Caro, I want you in the car, now. I’m taking you home and you’re not going to leave the house until I get this sorted.”

  If Caro’s hackles rose higher, they’d burst through the ceiling. That Eric thought he could come in and start ordering her around did more than rub her the wrong way. Who the hell did he think he was?

  She still had a lot of mad from their interrupted fight. This was not helping.

  He wasn’t done yet. “Not to mention that you lied to me. You, with your talk about trust. You were lying the whole time.”

  She had no answer to that because it was true. There was nothing she could do to take that back but she didn’t care. That he didn’t understand how much worse—how fucking soul-destroying—his actions were, filled her with cold rage. Suddenly, she saw the entire situation with total clarity and knew what she needed to do.

  It was clear that he wasn’t going to admit that he believed Tom. There was nothing left for her here. She knew how to make the break and make it clean.

  “So?” She made the word a
s cold and bored as she could. “I lied. What do you care?”

  His eyes narrowed. “I care because I don’t like being lied to.”

  See, it’s not about you at all. He’s mad you tricked him. An empty space opened in her chest but she forced herself to shrug. “Big deal. I didn’t even get what I needed.”

  “What?”

  “I nearly laughed when you fed Patricia that line of bull. It was almost like you knew the deal. Of course, there’s no way that could have happened.” She made sure her tone implied, Not for a dumbass like you.

  Eric stepped away. “You’re here for a story? That’s what this is all about?”

  “A good story’s worth a lot to me.” God, this was hard, even with the deep flow of anger running through her. “Iverson was a good scoop, but not enough. I’ve got a rep to protect. I knew that being a half-blood gave me a better chance at access to you.” She laughed. “I must be a better actor than I thought, to have you believe that was my first time taking on a masque.”

  “What was the story, Caro?” His voice was ice.

  She stared him in the eye and thought hard, praying she wouldn’t flinch. “Turns out the story was nothing. My editor heard rumors you were the kingpin of the meth trade up here. Big society guy? It was a good hook.” She put on a little pout. “You keep clean files, don’t you? I couldn’t find a thing at your place.”

  Eric stared at her. “You were here for a year.”

  Dammit. She thought fast. “Research takes time. I was still filing stories in Washington under another name.”

  “Another lie.” Eric stepped back, eyes dark with disgust. “It’s too bad you won’t be going back to Washington with the story you needed for your career,” he sneered. “But at least you’re going.”

  He was gone before she could react but when she saw the room was empty, she broke down in great, gasping sobs, her fury partially disappearing with him.