“I know who you are,” he said with a heavy accent. Russian.
“I’m looking for a man––”
“Come in.” He stood aside.
His strange, yellowish eyes assessed her. Despite his expressionless face and unfazed behavior, all his senses were attuned to her reaction, waiting, watching for her move. There was no doubt he’d grab her and drag her inside if she got cold feet.
Keeping her back straight, she entered the garden. It was beautifully manicured. There was a pool with a deck and an open-air gym on the side. A pretty, very pregnant woman lounged on one of the deck chairs. A man with dark hair and a beard crouched next to her. At her appearance, he straightened, placing his body between her and the pregnant woman. A hostile look crept into his eyes. Both people were vaguely familiar. Then it hit her. Ivan Kray and Alice Jones, the famous rock star couple. Mr. Kray held her gaze until she disappeared into the house, the blond man hot on her heels.
He indicated a lounge. “Wait here.”
Once she’d stepped inside, he patted her down, took her backpack, and closed the door. The lock clicked into place.
Rubbing her arms, she surveyed the surroundings. The place was tastefully decorated with old Brazilian masks and artifacts, giving it a lodge feel. What were two world-famous pop stars doing here? And an elf-looking man with a Russian accent? Slowly, a realization took shape. The passing of the new laws for paranormals… Ivan Kray and his wife, Alice Jones were on the board. Ivan had just come out of the closet as a necromancist. That would make the Russian none other than the famous Weatherman, the aeromancist, Lann Dréan. She sucked in a breath. A team of the world’s most prominent paranormals was gathered in Rio.
She twirled around when the door opened. In the frame stood a monster-sized man with a rugged face and wild hair. Dark tresses streaked with white hung loose over his shoulders. He seemed to suck the oxygen from the room when he stepped inside. Behind him followed a petite Japanese woman with coal black eyes reflecting the color of her hair. Josselin de Arradon and his firestarter wife, Clelia d’Ambrois.
The man crossed his arms and looked her up and down. “What’s the nature of your business?”
The accent was unmistakably French.
Ignoring the tremble of her gut, she lifted her chin. “If you’re going to watch me, the favor can be returned.”
His eyes pulled into slits. “How did you find this house?”
“By following the breadcrumbs.”
“What?” he thundered, taking a step toward her.
Clelia laid a hand on his arm. “It’s a metaphor. She’s referring to the story.”
His face softened as he regarded his wife. One eyebrow lifted.
“Hansel and Gretel,” Clelia explained.
Olivia walked to Mr. de Arradon, tilting her head to lock eyes with him. “That’s the first reason I came. Kill me if you must, but stop stalking me.”
His lips twitched. “The second?”
She wanted to know the identity of the man who was stalking her, and now she knew. There was only one man in charge of the powerful team of paranormals. Cain Jones. Her spine tingled with an unwelcome feeling. “I’d like to speak with Cain.”
Clelia and Josselin exchanged a look.
After a moment, Josselin said, “Wait here.”
They left her alone, again. Locked in, of course.
Where the hell was Olivia? Cain parked the scooter in the garage and stomped to the workroom.
“Where is she?” he bellowed.
Sara and Sean looked up from their wrist pad screens.
“Who?” Sean asked. “Mrs. Reid?”
“Who else?” he snapped.
“At home,” Sara said, looking flabbergasted.
“I just came from there. She’s not at home.”
“I was on street duty,” Sean said. “She worked in the garden all afternoon. I saw her go back inside myself.”
“She’s here,” Josselin, who’d just entered, said.
All eyes fixed on him.
“What do you mean she’s here?” Cain asked, his body tensing at the implication.
Josselin gave him half a smile. The team leader was amused. “In the lounge. Apparently, she followed your breadcrumbs.”
He was halfway to the door when Josselin stopped him with a hand on his arm. “She knows you. By name.”
“It doesn’t matter. It was only a matter of time before she needed to know the truth.”
“She’s a liability, now.”
“No.” Cain stared down the hallway toward the lounge. “She’s bait.”
“You’re not seriously going to let her walk free from here?”
“That’s exactly what I’m going to do.”
“She may tell Godfrey where to find us.”
“I’m done playing hide and seek. It’s time to lure out the monster.”
“I don’t like this, Cain.”
“There’s never been anything to like.” He turned to Sean. “I want Alice and Maya out of here. Organize a new safe house. Ask Eve what equipment she’ll need for running the tests.”
“I’m on it,” Sean replied.
Lann entered with a backpack. “I went through Mrs. Reid’s bag.” He handed it to Cain. “It’s clean.”
“Josselin, scan the lounge for bugs, just in case Mrs. Reid decided to plant one, and tell Maya to check our satellite footage. I want to be sure Olivia wasn’t followed.”
Backpack in hand, he made his way to the lounge with impatient strides and threw open the door. Olivia stood in the center of the room, her body pulled to its full height. Even dressed in a pair of faded shorts and T-shirt with a baseball cap she looked regal.
He slammed the door. “Olivia.”
She gave him a sweet smile. “Nice to meet you, Cain.”
He crossed the floor and grabbed her arm. “Coming here was dangerous, not to mention stupid.”
“I’m glad I caught your attention. Now that I have it undividedly, listen carefully. Stay away from me. No more housebreaking or stalking. No more night visits and asking questions about my husband. You better pack your things and leave.”
“Do you want me gone because you’re worried about your husband’s safety or that you’d cheat on him?”
She jerked her arm from his grasp. “What the hell do you want from me?”
“What I told you this morning. You’re going to help me find your husband.”
“Why would I do that?”
He pushed her down onto the sofa and activated his wrist pad. Calling up the images of the murder victims, he held the slideshow in front of her face. As one after the other photo swiped past, her skin grew an ashen color. She turned her face away, but he gripped her chin and forced her eyes back to the screen.
“No more,” she whispered after a few more slides.
He switched off the pad. “This is your husband’s work.”
She didn’t appear surprised.
“That’s why you’re going to help me,” he continued.
She jumped up and walked to the window. Staring outside with her back turned to him, she said, “Godfrey will kill you.”
“How can I contact him?”
“You can’t.”
He came closer. “How do you communicate?”
“It’s him who contacts me. I have no way of reaching him.”
He believed her. Lily had had no way of getting hold of her father, even when her life had been in danger.
“Tell me everything you know.”
She twirled around. “Is that why you made me come? You thought I’d give in more easily?”
“You know why you’re angry. You want it to mean more.”
She lashed out, her palm connecting with his cheek. The sting of her hand burned on his birthmark.
“You’re a bastard.”
“I never said I was a gentleman.” He traced the heated skin of his cheek. “I touched you the first time to distract you. The second time was only for my pleasure
.”
“I hate you.”
“I’m sure you do.” As for him, hate wasn’t what he was feeling, right now. The memory of his hands on her body stirred in his loins. “If you don’t want a repeat of last night, you better let me take you home.”
“I’ll find my own way.”
“It’s a dangerous city.”
“You being the biggest danger of all.”
“On more levels than you can imagine.”
“Oh, I have an inkling. Using sex as a weapon, right? Isn’t that how you’re trained?” She stalked to the door.
He caught her before she could open it, twirling her back to face him. “For the record, I haven’t touched anyone the way I touched you since my wife passed away.”
“Tell someone who gives a damn.”
“Right.” She did give a damn. So much so, she couldn’t hide it. He’d hurt her, and he didn’t like it, but he wasn’t going to lie to her. “I’m not likeable. I’m not kind, and I’m not a knight in shining armor. Mostly, I’m an asshole, but you deserved the truth.”
“Goodbye, Cain. Stay away from me if you value your life.”
“This is not how it’s going to happen.” He kept one hand on her shoulder as he opened the door and steered her through it. “Walk. Straight down the hall.”
On his way to the garage, he grabbed one of the secure mobile phones from the workroom and pressed it in her hand. “My number is programmed on here. Call me when there’s word from Godfrey or if you need me.”
She didn’t reply.
“I’m going to stop him, Olivia.”
“There’s no stopping him,” she whispered.
“You said he’d arrive shortly. I’ll be waiting and ready.”
“So will he be.”
He searched her mind. “You’re not going to tell him about us.”
“There’s little Godfrey doesn’t know.”
“Whatever the case, it makes no difference. This war is unavoidable, and I intend on winning.” He opened the door to the garage. “Let’s go. It’s getting late.”
He handed her a spare helmet and mounted one of the scooters, waiting until her arms had folded around him before starting it.
At her place, he took her hand to help her down, gripping her fingers tightly. He didn’t let go until they were safely inside the house with the alarm activated. She dropped her backpack in the entrance and kicked off her shoes. The actions were weary in contrast to her earlier zest before he’d shown her the gruesome photos of the murder victims. He regretted that it had come to that, but he had to make her see reason. Still, he didn’t like being responsible for the hunch in her shoulders. All he wanted to do was make it better.
“Dinner?” he asked.
Her jaw dropped. “You’re out of your mind.”
“Just practical.” He removed his jacket. “You haven’t eaten.”
“Did you hear nothing of what I said?”
“Every word.” He walked to the fridge and studied the content. “Chicken?”
“No.”
“Fish?”
“No.”
“Chicken it’ll be.”
She made for the door, but he grabbed her wrist and pulled her down onto one of the high stools.
“We do many things for love,” he said, “but how can you stay with Godfrey after what you’ve seen in my lounge?”
“You have no right to judge me.”
“I’m not judging you. I’m trying to understand. You never answered my question. Do you love him?”
“Once, a long time ago, I thought I did,” she lowered her lashes, “but he’s not the person he pretended to be when we met.”
“What hold does he have over you?” He cupped her face. “Why are you loyal to him? Is he threatening you?”
She looked up at him, her violet eyes moist. “You have no idea.”
“Help me find him. I won’t let him hurt you. I’ll protect you.”
She bit her lip, shaking her head. “I already told you, I can’t find him. He’ll come to me when he’s ready.”
He dropped his hands to his sides. “When he does, I’m going to kill him.”
He’d told her before, but he wanted there to be no misunderstanding. Could she handle it? Would she forgive him? Suddenly, it was paramount that she did. He reeled at the acknowledgement. He’d realized it a while ago, but he hadn’t admitted it to himself until this moment, until he was sure her heart didn’t belong to Godfrey. Good God, he was scheming to steal another man’s wife, just like King David from the Bible stole Bathsheba from Uriah, but did it count as a sin when her husband held her against her will? Wrapped up in his thoughts, he almost didn’t notice the way she stared at him with disbelief and doubt.
“I swear I’ll free you of him if you help me.”
“You want me to kill him?” she asked with a trembling voice.
“I’ll do the killing.” Just like David had plotted to have Uriah killed. “Just help me when the time comes. Tell me when he arrives in Rio.”
She drew in a breath. “So your offer of freedom comes with a condition. You’ll only help me if I pay a price.”
God knew, he didn’t want her to dirty her hands in this horrid affair, but she was his only link to Godfrey. He could stalk out in her garden for eternity and eventually risk being picked up by Godfrey’s satellite, or she could tell him what he wanted to know.
His reply came somberly. “Yes.”
Regarding him for a moment, she seemed to weigh his words. After a while, she said, “Alice Jones is your daughter.”
It was common knowledge. He didn’t need to answer.
“You’re the man who represents paranormals on a global level, who’s fighting for their rights in the World Court of Law.”
“Everyone deserves freedom and safety. Paranormals are killed by gift hunters and governments alike. With laws in place, the hunting will stop. They’ll have fair opportunities just like me and you.”
“What prevents them from killing and wiping us all out?”
“Nothing. There will always be bad paranormals just as there are bad human beings. That’s where justice comes in, but this time the law will apply to everyone, not just to humans who kill paranormals for sport or money.”
“So you’re fighting for a greater cause.”
“For a better future. A safer world.”
She turned her gaze to the window, staring at the darkness outside. Silence prevailed as only her thoughts screamed at him, too vague to read their meaning but too disturbing not to be heard.
“Fine,” she said after some time, facing him again. “I’ll do it. I’ll help you.”
The finality in her voice was fatal, like a person who’d accepted their death as a foregone conclusion. The sound of it ate at him.
He pulled her into an embrace, offering the little solace he could. “It’s going to be fine.”
“Yes.” Resolve laced her tone, but there was also a hidden layer of fear to it. “Yes, it is.”
Forcing himself to break their contact, he gathered the ingredients and utensils he’d need for cooking. The chocolate-chili chicken recipe was an old Mexican favorite, one that took time. He wanted as much time with Olivia as possible. He may not be able to read her thoughts, but he felt her need to be soothed after the life-altering decision she’d just taken. It was going to rock her world in all moral and practical aspects. There was a lot to deal with. He knew what it was like to take responsibility for the entire world, for having its wellbeing and very existence rest on your shoulders.
Shooting her a concerned glance, he started his preparations. She made a good job of hiding her turmoil, but she couldn’t hide it from him entirely.
“Here.” He pushed the slab of dark chocolate to her, offering her a diversion. “Break this into pieces.”
She reached for it mechanically, without thought or consideration. If cooking didn’t help relax her, he’d take her to bed and please her. At least that was one distraction t
hat worked without fail.
She broke the chocolate, dropping the pieces into the pan. By the time she was done, her fingers were covered in melted chocolate. As she made to hop from the chair, he took her hand. The physical contact brought her back from wherever her mind had been wandering. She regarded him with new awareness, as if she noticed him for the first time.
He couldn’t resist bringing a finger to his mouth, licking the bitter sweetness from her skin. The flecks in her eyes turned a dark shade of purple. Her lips parted on a soundless gasp. She felt so damn right. Remembering the taste of her arousal, he wanted more. He got off on her pleasure when he was the cause. The food was forgotten as they held each other’s eyes, forbidden intentions stifling the air. He was a second away from kissing her lips when his wrist pad pinged with an incoming call.
Regretfully, he released her finger, drying it on his shirt. He checked the caller ID. Eve.
“Excuse me. I have to take this.” He walked to the lounge where he’d be out of earshot. “Eve?”
“I think I’ve found a way to kill a quantumancist.”
Chapter 4
The way in which Cain had left could only mean he’d made some kind of breakthrough in his quest to kill her husband. Was it wrong to wish he’d succeed? At the end of the day, Godfrey’s defeat was exactly that––wishful thinking. He was too powerful, too wealthy, and way too clever to be caught. He was ruthless to the point of sacrificing his children for his power-hungry objective, whatever that might be. Why he kept her alive was a mystery. He didn’t love or need her. Was it a matter of pride? He couldn’t bear the stigma of rejection? When Adam had been alive, Olivia had understood Godfrey’s purpose with her. He needed a bargaining chip to manipulate Adam, not that Adam wasn’t a willing partner in Godfrey’s crimes. Adam had been blinded by the wealth and power, or maybe he was born that way. Did it mean a part of her, a part she wasn’t aware existed, was as dark as her husband? Had Adam inherited it genetically from her? It hadn’t come from his biological father. Adam’s real dad hadn’t had a bad molecule in his body.
Contemplating questions to which she didn’t have answers, she took the phone Cain had given her from her pocket and hid it in one of the kitchen drawers. Godfrey wasn’t a cook. The kitchen was the last place he’d look for anything.
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