by Julia Sykes
“Come on,” I said as lightly as I could manage. “Let’s get you that coffee before you get the shakes.”
The perfect grin he shot me knocked all my worries from my brain, and I found myself inexplicably smiling back at him. The stern side of Reed was all business, but when he turned his lighter side on me, I couldn’t help being charmed. More like stunned, really.
It took us a good fifteen minutes to walk from the parking spot I had found to Starbucks. The sky had darkened to indigo, and the breathtaking lights of the Chicago skyline surrounded us. Under other circumstances, Reed and I might have been one of the couples strolling out on their date nights. Unfortunately, my Friday night consisted of discussions about sadistic murderers. Not exactly romantic dinner conversation.
Also unfortunate was the good foot of space between Reed and me. Even with that distance, I could feel his heat at my side. My hand burned to reach out for his. The desire to touch him was almost overwhelming.
Stop that! Reed was my partner, not my date. No matter how beautiful or how impossibly alluring he was, he was most definitely off-limits. Furthermore, he was definitely unattainable. I was decidedly unfeminine; I didn’t wear skirts or even makeup. And I knew how to throw a punch. Men weren’t interested in me, much less sensual gods like the man who walked beside me.
No, he didn’t walk. He prowled. His every movement was carefully controlled, as graceful as a stalking panther.
It was almost a relief when we sat down with our drinks. At least there was a table separating me from Reed. I would be able to think more clearly. About The Mentor.
The Mentor was enough to make the last of the heat between us evaporate. It was impossible to think about anything remotely arousing when focusing on that sick bastard. I took a sip of my tea to counteract the sudden dryness in my mouth.
“So, tell me what you know about Carl Martel. What have you guys found in New York?”
Reed grimaced over his coffee cup at the name. “Unfortunately, Smith did a very thorough job of killing him, so we were never able to question him about who The Mentor is. We only know that Martel had an accomplice because of what Lydia Chase heard during her imprisonment. She called him ‘The Mentor’ because he seemed to have taught Martel what he knew about breaking women. We’re probably looking for someone older than Martel, so that’s at least late thirties. Lydia never got a look at him, so that’s really all we have to go on.”
“Smith’s reports say he suspects The Mentor directly assisted Martel in stalking Lydia after she escaped. Can you tell me more about that?”
“I searched Martel’s house after he died.” Reed’s eyes went impossibly darker as his gaze turned inward. “He kept locks of hair. Eight women. He managed to abduct and murder eight women without drawing attention to himself. He lived completely under the radar. No job, no formal education after dropping out of high school at seventeen. He lived off the money he inherited from his parents when they died the next year. He bought the house he lived in with cash from his inheritance. His one other asset – if you can even call it that – was the white GMC van he used to transport the women. We found hair and blood in the vehicle.”
“He sounds like a loner. What makes you think The Mentor helped him terrorize Lydia Chase?”
“Martel wasn’t educated, but some of the stunts he pulled while stalking Lydia would have required technological expertise. There was also the incident with the sniper, suggesting a high level of weapons training. We found no evidence of books for tech research in his house, and he wasn’t formally educated. He didn’t have anything more than a four year old laptop. And he didn’t own any guns.”
I nodded my agreement with his conclusions. “So he had to have help. It makes sense that The Mentor would have been the person to help him, given Martel’s social isolation.”
“We need to find out how they met,” Reed asserted. “I thought we should start by looking into what might have drawn him to Chicago to abduct Lydia. He must have some ties here. Maybe The Mentor is that tie.”
“Considering how Martel lived virtually off the map, it’s going to be difficult to track his movements in New York, much less Chicago. Where do you suggest we start?”
“We could go to Dusk, the BDSM club where Martel found Lydia Chase. We can get a list of patrons from the owner. If he won’t cooperate, we can try for a subpoena.”
“I thought places like that kept people’s identities secret?” It came out as a question. This was why we had Reed here.
“A lot of clubs require that patrons pay for membership. They have to give their real personal details as well as scene names. Luckily for us, Dusk is one of those clubs with this policy. We’ll be able to look into members for potential ties to Martel.”
“That’s great.” It was better than great. It was the best lead we had come up with in weeks. “We should contact the owner immediately.”
Reed frowned at his half-empty cup of coffee. “I guess I’ll have to chug this, then.”
I rolled my eyes at him. “We have more important things to deal with than your caffeine addiction.”
“Hey, I didn’t come up with my brilliant idea until I had this coffee, so don’t make light of the power of caffeine. Besides, there are worse things to be addicted to.” He gestured at my own drink. “Tea, for instance. Disgusting. It tastes like dirty leaves.” He shuddered.
“Coffee tastes like burnt dirt,” I retorted. “But you can keep your addiction if I can keep mine.” I gave him a half-smile. It was amazing how the man was capable of making me smile in the midst of what we were investigating. I loved Dex, but he was always so serious. Reed was levelheaded and lighthearted.
I thought of his quiet rage when I told him about the contents of the note that had been sent to me. He had a fierce side, too, when it mattered.
“Be careful.” I appreciated Reed Miller’s physique far too much for my own good. If I started appreciating his personality as well, I would be well and truly screwed. I wouldn’t be able to stand near the man without blushing like a teenager with a crush. And with my pale skin, blushes were far too obvious. My cheeks would look sunburned.
Reed grinned. “I can keep my addiction?” He repeated my words. “How magnanimous of you to allow that, Agent Byrd.” His dark eyes were mocking, telling me he didn’t need my permission to do anything he wanted.
That damn blush flared, and his grin widened. He knew I was just as affected by his arrogance as I was by his beauty.
“We should go.” The words were barely more than a mumble as I cut my eyes to the side.
“Whatever you say.” He chuckled, as though he found the idea of following my orders amusing. It should have gotten my hackles up, but – to my embarrassment – it just made heat pulse between my legs.
That sexy little smirk still lingered on his lips as we exited the coffee shop. He held the door for me, like a perfect gentleman. But the wicked gleam of the city lights in his dark eyes was decidedly ungentlemanly. I tore my gaze from his with a murmured “thanks” as I stepped past him. My shoulder grazed his chest, and his warmth pulsed over me. I sidestepped quickly.
“Be careful.”
We had barely taken ten steps away from the coffee shop when Reed grasped my wrist and hooked my arm through his, pulling my body up tight against him. My gasp was somewhere between shocked and indignant. I gave a little jerk away from him about three heartbeats later than I should have, but he held me fast.
“Reed! This is totally inappropriate!” I wished my voice hadn’t wavered.
“Quiet.” It was a low order. “Someone’s following us. Stay close to me.”
I had the good sense not to crane my neck around, but I glanced over at the building to my right. The darkened glass that fronted the closed bank served as a dim mirror in the night. I caught a glimpse of a man wearing a Cubs baseball cap low on his forehead walking twenty paces behind us. The way he angled his face let me know he was trying to conceal his identity. But the man was far too ta
ll and too big to go unnoticed.
My pulse quickened as I snapped my eyes forward. Usually, I wouldn’t have been so affected, but the contents of the threatening note were fresh in my mind. Reed was ushering me toward the car a bit faster than what would be considered a natural pace.
“Wait,” I hissed. “I am not running from this guy.”
His hand tightened around my forearm. “I’m getting you out of here.”
“Be sensible, Reed.” I demanded as quietly as I could manage while still sounding firm. “We need to catch him. Slow down.”
“You’re getting in the car and driving to the field office. I’ll stay behind and-”
“Oh no you won’t,” I practically seethed, my anger partially directed at him but also directed at myself for my own weakness. I’m not scared, I’m not scared. I gathered my resolve. “I’m an agent, just like you. Let me do my job.”
To my amazement, he huffed out a little laugh. “You are so much like Sharon.” He said it as though it was a compliment. “All right then, we’ll catch him.”
Keeping a firm grip on my arm, he steered me around the next corner. The alley was narrow and dimly lit, with no foot traffic. As soon as we were out of sight of the main street, he took me by the shoulders and turned my body so that my back pressed against the concrete building behind me. His hands remained on my shoulders, pinning me in place.
“What are you-?”
“Shhh.” His lips nearly brushed mine as he shushed me. Only his hold on my shoulders kept me from leaning forward and closing the distance between us. He smelled so damn good. The scent of coffee clung to him. I suddenly realized that the dark drink must be delicious. I wondered what it would taste like on his lips…
“Just wait.” His voice was lower, rougher. My gaze lifted from his lips to his eyes. This close, I could discern the rich espresso of his irises around his dilated pupils. I wasn’t the only one affected by our nearness.
But I was the only one who had lost all sense of purpose. I barely remembered why Reed had me in this position until the furious, familiar voice broke through my reverie.
“What the fuck?”
I registered my stalker’s identity at the same time as Reed launched himself at the man. Reed’s large hands fisted in his shirt, slamming him back against the wall.
“Damn it, Dex!” I shouted. “Reed, wait!”
Reed barely stayed his fist in time to stop it from crunching my friend’s nose. Dex was an experienced fighter, but he had obviously been thrown off by the sight of Reed’s hands on me. The ire in his glowing blue eyes when he turned them on me told me how intensely it had affected him.
But my anger matched his, and I met his glare. “What the hell are you doing, Dex?” I demanded. “You’re following me now?” The Cubs cap should have given him away. How many times had I seen him wear the frayed thing when we went to a game together?
He ground his perfect teeth. “I’m making sure you’re safe. You’re welcome.”
I threw up my hands, exasperated. They had to stop being so protective. It was unnerving. It made the threat real. “What is wrong with you guys? I get one little note and you all freak out over it. It’s not a big deal.”
“Yes, it is,” Dex and Reed snapped at the same time. Dex practically snarled at him, as though he couldn’t believe Reed had dared to think about my safety in the same way he did.
They might think they were alpha males, but they were acting like children.
“This is completely ridiculous! We have a serial rapist to catch, and you’re wasting your time watching me. No!” I cut them off before their deep voices could start telling me how much danger I was in and how I needed to be protected. “We’re focusing on The Mentor from now on. Until the biometric results on the note come back from the lab, there’s nothing more we can do about that. I’m a competent agent. I’m grateful for the two of you watching my back, really I am. But there might be a woman suffering right now, and wasting time chasing a ghost that might not exist keeps us from getting to her.”
Dex’s jaw clenched, and Reed’s gaze turned inward.
“Let go of Dex,” I ordered Reed.
He blinked, as though he hadn’t even realized he was still holding my friend against the wall. His fists unfurled, and Dex helped him step away by giving him a hard shove in the center of his chest.
“Dex, stop being an ass to Reed.” Blue eyes blazed as they turned on me, but I lifted my chin and held his hard gaze. After a long moment, he gave a short nod and looked away. I heaved a sigh. God, dealing with these guys was exhausting. I couldn’t afford to waste any more energy on them. I needed all my strength to hold myself together in order to maintain the illusion of bravery.
Not looking at either of them, I stalked past the men and back into the swell of people trafficking East Jackson Boulevard. To my surprise, I heard Reed’s chuckle behind me. It was followed quickly by Dex’s low growl. I glanced back to find them both falling in step behind me. Their paces were casual enough, but I didn’t miss the way their eyes surveyed the people around us, searching for my invisible stalker.
I rolled my eyes and focused forward. Anger and appreciation swirled within me. But I forgot both when the Chicago wind whipped up behind me, surrounding me in Reed’s scent. I remembered his nearness as he held me against the wall. My shiver wasn’t a result of the cool breeze.
Chapter 4
Stepping into Dusk was a shock to my senses. I had insisted that we speak to the owner as soon as possible, but now I was beginning to regret that. Coming in on a Friday night meant the party was in full swing, and I wasn’t prepared for what was going on inside the BDSM club.
The sound of lustful moans and the smell of sex hit me first. It set off my own arousal almost immediately. My clit began to throb as I became acutely aware of how long it had been since I had last been intimate with a man. Thirteen months. Over a year had passed since my breakup with George. It had seemed like nothing, but then I stepped into this kinky haven, and my body became very insistent in reminding me just how deprived I was.
Reed’s presence at my side did nothing to help me. His expression was almost one of boredom, a blasé blank that said he had seen it all before and then some. The only time the lines of his face transformed was when his eyes fell on my gaping mouth, and then his own lips ticked up in amusement.
I snapped my teeth closed and tore my eyes from his, but the sights that awaited me only made everything that much worse. The bar where we were waiting for the owner, Josh Dover, was innocuous enough, but it was a burgundy-painted island in the center of the club, separating the dance floor from the dungeon. The scenes unfolding before my eyes made my sex clench.
But woven through my arousal was fear. This was where Lydia Chase had been abducted and taken into a nightmare. Images of her scars and her haunted eyes flashed through my mind. How could I be turned on by what I was seeing? Knowing what she had suffered under the lash made me flinch at the sound of whips striking flesh, even as the resultant moans made my nipples peak against the inside of my bra.
“You all right?” Reed’s deep voice and his sudden heat at my side pulled me back to him. When had he gotten so close? And why did the pulsing of my clit ratchet up a notch in response to his nearness?
Unease at my arousal made me edge away, even as the throbbing between my thighs urged me to move into him. The man was magnetic, and my attraction to him was impossibly magnified in this place. His casual bearing plainly declared that this was his domain, and he seemed to have somehow grown larger. I felt small beside him, delicate. And all too breakable. My body enjoyed the sensation, even as my mind instinctively feared weakness. Reed rendered me a study in contradictions, and it was messing with my head.
“Katie?” His expression turned more serious as he prompted my answer. No, not prompted. Demanded.
I did my best to school my features to nonchalance, but my voice came out fainter than I would have liked. “I’m fine.”
His br
ows drew down. “Katie.” This time, my name was a sharp warning. “What have I told you about lying to me?”
“What can I do for you?” I blew out a sigh of relief when Josh Dover cut into the tension between us. I turned my attention to the owner of Dusk. He wasn’t quite as tall as Reed, but he was broader, harder. The harsh line of his jaw was a bit mean, and his light brown eyes regarded my partner and me with annoyance.
“Mr. Dover.” I adopted my official Agent voice and flashed him my Federal credentials. “I’m Agent Byrd, and this is Agent Miller. We have some questions about Lydia Chase.”
Dover shook his head. It was a sharp gesture, but his expression turned weary. “I’ve told you everything I know. Or everything I don’t know,” he said on a frustrated growl. “How many times do I have to tell you cops that I had nothing to do with her abduction?”
“We’re not cops,” Reed corrected him calmly. “We’re FBI. And we’re going to need a list of your patrons. The real list, not scene names.”
Dover’s jaw firmed. “I won’t betray the privacy of my customers. You should know that, Agent Miller.” He eyed my partner significantly. The men obviously weren’t strangers. It seemed Reed had spent some time in Chicago before joining the FBI.
An image of Reed dressed in the same tight leathers as Dover – and wearing nothing else – bloomed in my mind. It was far too enticing. I wondered if his abs would be just as ripped as Dover’s. How would his muscles ripple under his tanned skin when he wielded a whip?
I shook it off before I started drooling, feeling more than a little guilty that I was fantasizing about my partner while I should be tracking down a sadistic killer.
“We will get a subpoena if we have to,” I informed Dover.
He turned a dark glare on me, and Reed smoothly moved into my personal space, positioning his body so that it was angled slightly in front of mine. I couldn’t help but feel that he was staking a claim over me.
He’s your partner. He’s just backing you up, I reminded myself before I could cook up another lurid and completely inappropriate fantasy.