“Sure.” He gestured to the closet behind her. “What are we going to?”
She opened the closet and stood back, letting him select the hoodie for her.
He’d brought three, since the convention center could get cold at times. It wasn’t like him to bring so many clothes, but considering this was what amounted to his vacation, he brought whatever the hell he wanted.
Zain unzipped a Star Trek jacket from the hanger and held it out for her. The gray and black was subtle enough most of the Aegis guys didn’t even comment on the Starfleet patches on the breast or arm.
“Mixing the Stars? I dunno about that.” She slid into the jacket, a bit of a smile on her lips.
“It’s the newest one. You can—”
“I speak Klingon. Or I like to pretend I can. I’m not really fluent or anything.” She zipped the hoodie halfway up, the parted edges perfectly framing her breasts.
“He'mIn'or paS.” He gestured to the door.
“tlhIngan Hol Dajatlh'a'?” Her lips spread into a grin as she stepped into the hall.
“HIja'. loQ vIjatlhlaH. lupDujHomwIj luteb gharghmey.”
“What was that last bit?” Andrea tilted her head to the side.
“My hovercraft is full of eels.” He pulled on the door, ensuring it was as locked and secured as he could make it. Satisfied, he turned and strode down the hall toward the rear elevator where they’d met. Was that only yesterday? Hard to believe.
“Eels?” She sputtered and laughed.
“It was on a list of phrases I memorized because I was bored.”
“Oh, wait. I think I’ve seen that one.”
“I had a lot of time on my hands. Where are we going?”
“A meeting. It’s a bunch of Dark Matter people getting together to talk stuff across the companies.” The smile leeched off her face, the aura of happiness gone again. “Whoever is behind last night will be there.”
“I’m guessing I can’t go in.” It would be useful to attend, to observe the players in action.
“I doubt it. Sorry.”
“Try to be the last out. Tell Miranda to hang back with you. I’d like to be able to see everyone coming out. Think that’s possible?”
“Do you have a lie detector in your arm, too?”
He chuckled, caught off guard by the joke. Most people preferred to not draw attention to his prosthetic.
“I’m not Inspector Gadget.”
“You’d look good in a trench coat and fedora.” She sped up, facing straight ahead.
He glanced at the room that’d been hers and placed his hand at the small of her back. She side stepped, their shoulders bumping into each other.
“DaHjaj 'oH QaQ jaj jagh Hegh.”
She smiled up at him. The expression was weak and there were cracks in her confidence, but she was pushing forward. He was proud of her. With all that had been thrown at her, she was still fighting back, in her own way. Whoever was targeting her clearly wanted her out of the picture. So what better way than to show them they hadn’t won? By being there. Granted, his job wasn’t to be proud of her now—it was to protect her. And that put him in direct opposition to her goal. He’d be more than happy to escort her home. Arrange for a more appropriate security detail.
They squeezed onto a mostly-full elevator and rode it down to the second floor meeting rooms. Andrea didn’t appear to need a map to figure out where she was going, so he stayed close, eyes on the crowds, looking for any stray fliers they might have missed last night.
Security had confirmed that they’d done a sweep, looking for more in the exhibit hall and rooms. But they couldn’t be confident they’d removed all of the fliers so far. The best thing to do was to keep Andrea’s mind on the meeting and whatever else was on her schedule for the day.
“This is me.” Andrea shoved her hands into the pockets of the jacket and turned to face him, deep lines around her mouth, lips pressed tight together.
“You’ll do great.”
She didn’t appear convinced.
He ducked his head and kissed her lips. Fast. But he still felt that electric zing. The one that made him distracted instead of focused.
Andrea started, her eyes widening, and she lifted her fingers to her mouth, as though she wasn’t sure what’d happened.
“Knock them dead.” He nodded at the door.
“Kay.” She turned and let herself into the room, glancing over her shoulder at least once with wide, mystified eyes.
Zain shoved his hands into his pockets and took up an out of the way spot against the wall to wait and watch who went in and out of the meeting space. He didn’t like being separated from her, not being able to see her, but there was work to be done and a span of relative quiet in which to do it.
He pulled his earpiece out of his pocket and put in a call to the office.
“Boss, still working, I see?” Gavin clicked away in the background.
“Did you go home last night?” Zain’s biggest problem with the kid, besides his speaking without thinking, was that he never fucking left. Or stopped working. It was a new, refreshing problem to have. The last guys he’d burned through hadn’t been able to keep up.
“I did, but had to be in early because someone pushed paperwork through last night. Wanna talk about it?”
“Did you run the checks I asked you to?”
“Sure did. Finishing them now, actually.”
“Give me the highlights.”
“Miranda—clean, smoking hot, not sure if she was a stripper—but she has the same name as an adult actress. I’d pay money to see that ass—”
“Gavin.”
“Fine. The only really notable stuff you’re going to want to look at is on the two head guys. Cliff has a history of drug use—not surprising. His grandparents were Woodstockers and his parents didn’t fall far from the tree. I found some pretty buried documentation about Cliff, 4chan and GamerGate you’re going to want to see. And this Doug Mahoney guy. He was big into 4chan, I think he still is. He’s got a weird background. He has a sealed file I’m trying to get to.”
“Send it.”
Zain had a bad feeling about the Cliff guy after meeting him briefly, but nothing he could put his finger on. Cliff looked like a typical gamer, and his social awkwardness was telegraphed plainly in the blank stares and long silences. That said, he couldn’t have created and run a gaming company with this much success and not have more than two brain cells to rub together. There was something there—he just didn’t know what. Or if it was a threat to Andrea.
“What’s Luke’s status?” Zain asked as he tabbed through email at a rapid rate.
“He is...in the air...I believe.”
“You don’t know?”
“I am not the all-knowing overlord, boss. That’s you.”
Zain sighed. This kid. He wanted to strangle him some days.
“Looking at the flight now...and yeah. He’s just taken off from Miami International.”
“Have him call me when he lands.”
“Will do.”
“Later.”
Zain hung up as he pulled the email with links to Gavin’s reports. His pool of suspects had just narrowed quite a bit.
9.
“You did good.”
Andrea was going to throw up. She paced to the back of the meeting room as the rest of the Dark Matter and Grunge employees trickled out. Miranda followed her, coffee cups in hand.
“They kept staring at me. They all saw the fliers, didn’t they?” Andrea stopped near the refreshment table, partly because there were still a few pastries left and Zain hadn’t eaten, and partly because this was as far as she could go without walking through the windows.
“No. Not everyone. And besides, most of the people were drunk last night. They don’t know what they saw.” Miranda handed the coffee cup over. “You never came back to the room. I’m glad Zain at least let me know where you were.”
“I did too!”
“After I was in bed.”
“I’m sorry. I suck.”
“Did you?” Miranda’s brows rose. “I mean, I wasn’t going to ask, but I was curious.”
“Miranda!” Andrea snatched her boss’ arm and pulled her closer.
“No one is listening. Besides, you’re turning intense red—not just red. What happened? Spill. I have zero sex life these days. I need to live vicariously through you.”
“I got embarrassingly drunk and saw pictures of myself naked all over the con floor.” And then she’d had amazing sex, followed by an out of this world orgasm. Not that she was about to share that with her boss. Times like these the employee-employer line was a hard one to find.
“After that?”
“Nothing.”
“I’m not buying it. I’ll make sure to let Crystal know what to ask you about.”
Shit, Crystal was not going to accept no or a brush off for an answer. Andrea would have to figure out what to tell her best friend, using actual words and sentences. She was so screwed.
“Okay, I’ve got a thing soon. Zain’s already emailed me about security stuff.” Miranda wiggled her phone at Andrea. “He said you hired him?”
“Oh God.” Andrea rolled her eyes. “Not really-really. I gave him a quarter. He tricked me into it.”
“Find out what the bill is supposed to be. We’ll work something out.”
“I’m not hiring a body guard. That’s crazy.”
“That’s sensible. Now, you take these and shower. Change. Rashae thinks her stuff will fit you a bit better than Piper’s.”
“You mean I should be able to breathe?”
“Hey, you looked hot.”
“I’m a hot mess right now.” Andrea held up her hand.
“Okay, you have to at least tell me if you kissed him. I’m dying for a detail here. Anything. Please?” Miranda smiled and batted her eyelashes at Andrea.
“What makes you think he’d even be interested in me?” Even as she spoke, her cheeks heated.
“Uh—Piper totally put him to the test. She flirted. And he totally turned her down, so I’d say he only has one person on his radar, and she just bought him for a quarter.”
“I did not buy him.”
“Hired him. Whatever. The man is into you, and you did not just spend the night in his room with five feet of space between you the whole time.”
“He speaks Klingon.”
“He what?”
“He speaks Klingon. The man can’t be real.”
“Um, I’m not a Trekkie, but considering you’re dressed up in his clothes and know he speaks Klingon tells me you’re holding out on me and that’s just not right.”
“I’ve got to pee.” Andrea snatched the bag of clothes and toiletries for later out of Miranda’s hand and headed for the conference room door. There were only a few people left and her bladder wasn’t going to hold out that long.
She stepped into the hallway and a warm, familiar presence greeted her. She didn’t even need to turn around to know that Zain was there, just behind the door.
“Hungry?” She held out the pastry.
He took it and fell into step with her. If memory served, there was an out of the way bathroom around the corner.
“How’d it go?” He took the pastry and bit into it.
She tried to not stare at his mouth.
He had kissed her back last night.
But had he really turned Piper down? Had that ever happened in the history of flirting?
“Did Piper flirt with you last night?”
Zain glanced at her, blinking slowly.
“Piper?”
“Please. Don’t pretend you don’t know which one she is. We played this game last night and I didn’t buy it.”
“The blonde. Yes. I guess. But it wasn’t...intentional. At least her intent in flirting wasn’t...to...get...with me, if that’s what you’re asking. It feels weird even saying that.”
“What?”
“She flirted. Then I asked how she knew you. And she spent fifteen minutes telling me all about how hot you looked in her clothes and that it was unfair you looked better in them than she did. I don’t count that as actual flirting, when her intention wasn’t to attract me so much as bait me into being a dick.”
“Wait, what? Hold that thought. I’ve got to pee or my bladder is going to explode.”
Andrea darted into the women’s restroom, doing her best to keep her thighs together and still make it to the toilet before she sprang a leak. She shuffled into the stall and peeled the jeans off, blowing out a breath as relief swept her.
Zain had passed up Piper for her. Even Miranda seemed to think Zain was serious in his attentions toward her. Could that be the case? Was there really a world where a hot guy like him picked her over the blonde bombshell?
It was completely unfair to Piper and Zain to reduce them each to their physical attributes. The very act alone stripped them of what made each unique, their personalities, what else they had to offer. For once, though, her—Andrea’s—redeeming virtue wasn’t, “she’s got a great personality”.
Andrea flushed the toilet, zipped up and did the wiggle walk out to the mirror, adjusting the tight-fitting jeans until they were firmly in place. Yeah, that was so not sexy, but it was just her in the bathroom anyway.
Zain liked her.
Her.
All of her.
The outside and maybe the inside. Well, the brain inside of her and not just the girly-bit insides of her.
It was a new and very strange string of events that were culminating in her meeting this crazy great guy. And to think, they likely wouldn’t have met if it weren’t for all the doxxing crap that meant Crystal wasn’t there for her to hide behind. After all, if Crystal had been in the elevator, Andrea could have faded into the wall, happy to be part of the scenery.
She glanced up and gasped, a black robed ninja cosplayer surprising her.
“Oh my God, I didn’t even hear you come in.” She chuckled and turned.
The only exposed skin was the ninja’s eyes and...hands.
Not that she was one to judge...but those were very large, very masculine hands...
A bad feeling tickled her consciousness and her nerves went into high alert.
“That’s a great outfit you’ve got there.” She grabbed a paper towel and edged toward the door, her instincts screaming at her to run.
The ninja moved in a blur. He grabbed her arm and yanked. She pitched forward against the marble vanity. He grabbed a handful of her hair, jerking it back.
Andrea yelped, but all the air was driven out of her lungs as she hit the edge of the counter with her ribs hard enough that she thought she heard a crack. Her body slumped and her knees hit the tile, when all she wanted to do was flail, throw an elbow—something.
She sucked in a breath, as much as she could, and forced it out in a scream. The sound reverberated off the tile, amplified by the marble and glass.
Her attacker jolted, maybe surprised as much as she was by the loudness of the sound, and wrenched her head back. She kicked out, barely grazing his shin.
The bathroom door banged open and Zain charged in.
The ninja released her, turning to face Zain. The real threat. Andrea rolled under the vanity, her only intelligent thought being, Get away.
When she looked up again, Zain had a handful of the ninja’s robes and kicked repeatedly, kneeing the ninja attacker in the stomach, landing a foot against the guy’s thigh. It was like watching UFC, except it wasn’t an even match at all. The ninja tried to swipe at Zain and he just...floated...out of the guy’s reach.
The ninja grappled with Zain, wrenching at his arms. Zain lost his hold and the ninja backpedaled toward the door, whirled, and sprinted away.
Zain took two steps, stopped and turned toward her.
“I’m fine!” she blurted.
“Stay there.” He jammed his prosthetic back into place and sprinted out the door, into a sea of people.
Andrea sat there for a second, s
taring at the closed door, huddled under the vanity, feeling every knock, bump and strand of hair.
Holy shit—she’d just been attacked by a God damned ninja!
Kevin ducked behind booths, shedding the ridiculous get-up as he went.
Speckles’ stupid plan was a bust. Captain Hook had been there, waiting, the whole damn time.
A sharp pain stabbed Kevin in the side. He put a hand to his ribs and focused on pulling in short, shallow breaths. Was something broken? At this point, it would be his luck.
He managed to get the pants off and stowed in some boxes between booths. Along the way, he snagged a baseball cap and tucked his hair up under the brim.
The knee jerk urge was to run, put as much distance between him and this Zain person as he could. But you never ran from a predator. It only drew their attention. Instead, he shoved his hand into his pocket and pulled out his phone, standing like so many other screen zombies along the path between vendors.
He waited for a count of five before casually turning and putting his phone in his back pocket. There was no doubt in his mind he needed to get out of here. And fast, before the dragnet of security caught up. He strolled along with the crowds, merging and sticking with the thick of it, using them to disguise his escape.
Speckles was going to be pissed, but there was no helping that. The plan to scare Andrea into doing something was in motion. He just didn’t think these were the results Speckles was after.
Zain kept his hand on Andrea all the way up to his room. It was that or punch someone, and violence wasn’t the answer.
“I’m okay, Miranda,” she said again. Andrea glanced at him and rolled her eyes, gesturing at the phone.
He swiped his key card and held the door for her, listening to the same statements made again and again.
I’m okay.
Security is searching.
Zain is fine.
Never saw his face.
Zain plucked Andrea’s phone from her fingers and spoke into the receiver.
“She’ll have to call you back.” He ended the call and tossed the phone on the bed.
“Now she’s going to come down here, you know?” She rolled her eyes.
He didn’t give a flying fuck if Miranda or her whole posse showed up at his door. All that mattered was that Andrea was safe. He’d spent the better part of an hour practically frothing at the mouth while the hotel and con security had their heads up their asses. They meant well. They were doing their jobs. But his was protecting her. Watching her be questioned, checked out, second guessed, and the whole time he’d wanted to do this.
Dangerous Games (Aegis Group, #3) Page 9