by Jami Gray
I choked on my bite, inhaling crumbs, which just made my coughing worse. I grabbed my drink and did my best to relearn to breathe. Finally, I found my voice and managed a squeaky “Excuse me?”
“You heard me.” Zev watched me with a disconcerting calm, his dark gaze intent as he took a sip of his drink before setting it down.
I stared, a hundred and one questions running through my head while worry for Lena crested. A flash of memory—the disconcerting glimpse of someone on the edge of the crowd from the morning’s scene at my condo—had me accusing, “You were there this morning. Outside my condo. Weren’t you?”
“I was.” There was nothing apologetic about his confirmation.
Not that I expected him to, but the lack of it still pissed me off. “Why?”
“Same reason you were poking around in a private residence,” he continued with that irritating calm. “I was investigating Keith Thatcher.”
Uh-huh, sure he was.
Before my disbelief gained traction, pitiless logic pointed out that Keith held connections to both Lena and LanTech, which meant there was a solid chance Zev wasn’t lying. Well, not outright anyway, because his presence gave me a good idea who was driving Zev’s investigations. I cut another bite, lifted the pastry-laden fork, and asked, “Why is the Cordova Family interested in Keith Thatcher?”
“Who said we were?” Zev sat back in the booth, one arm draped over the seat back’s edge, the other on the table, his hand curling around his cup. He was the picture of casualness, his expression conveying aloof amusement. “Maybe my business with Keith is personal.”
I shook my head, my brows rising in patent disbelief. “Nope, sorry, not buying it.”
“And why’s that?” Curiosity flashed in the depths of his eyes, there and gone. If I hadn’t been watching, I would’ve missed it.
“If it was personal, you wouldn’t let anyone, including me, know you were interested. The fact you’re sitting here, making time with me, indicates that Keith was interfering with the Cordovas in some way.” I brought my fork up and took a deliberate bite, never breaking our stare.
“You sure it’s not you we’re interested in?”
As a subtle threat, it was a doozy. My brain short-circuited for a second as those full lips surrounded by a sexy, way-past-five-o’clock shadow twitched and curved upward, but there was an underlying seriousness to his response that made my heart skip a beat. I lowered my lashes, hoping to hide my reaction. I tried to swallow my food but found it difficult as a slithering sense of foreboding left my mouth dry. Maybe it was best to stick to my drink while being dragged through this verbal minefield. With a faint sense of regret, I set my fork down, pushed the small plate away, sat back, and braved meeting his gaze. “Are you?”
He held my gaze for an endless moment before answering, “Maybe.”
“Why?”
“Why not?”
Unsure if it was a warning or his twisted version of flirting, his answer left me even more off-kilter than ever. If an Arcane Family was interested in me, I was in a shitload more trouble than I realized. For now, I decided to feign ignorance. “I don’t know what kind of game you’re playing, Zev, but I need to get back to work.”
“Is that what you’re calling it?” he asked drily. “It looked more like breaking and entering to me.”
Okay, he was damn good with sarcasm, but I held tight to my fraying temper and said calmly, “I was at Keith’s on Guild business.”
It was his turn to raise his brows. “Guild business? I thought you were working for yourself now. Wasn’t that why you kidnapped my nephew?”
At the sting of rebuke, my hand fisted on the table next to my cup as a blush worked its way under my cheeks. The job that had involved Zev’s ten-year-old nephew and brought the two of us together had been both a blessing and a near-disastrous mistake. The combination of mortification and defensiveness added a sharp edge to my voice as the hold on my temper slipped. “I didn’t kidnap Jeremy, dammit.” I took a breath, uncurled my hand, and wrapped it around my cup. “I’m not rehashing this with you. It has nothing to do with Keith.”
Zev straightened in his seat and leaned in, his voice a low whip of sound. “You sure about that?”
His intensity sent an unsettling shiver down my spine, but I met his accusing glare head on. “Yes, I am.” Even as I said it, my mind futzed with the puzzle pieces, bumping up against the one commonality between the situation with Jeremy and the current one with Keith—LanTech, a company that specialized in magic-infused technology. “Unless there’s something you want to share.”
Oblivious to my mental gymnastics, Zev asked, “Like?”
“Like why Keith ended up at my condo this morning. Or why you’re here now. Either one is a good starting point.”
“I’m here because I followed you.” His admission carried not one ounce of visible shame.
The fact that he’d completely ignored the first half of my question didn’t escape me, but his answer to the second part was just as concerning. “Why are you following me?”
“I wasn’t initially. I was following Keith.” He lifted his cup, tipping it toward me. “Saw you this morning with the other looky-loos and figured since Keith was a dead end, I’d follow you.”
I wanted to snarl in frustration, not just at his bad pun, but because he was deliberately talking in circles.
Before I could rip into him, he continued. “It was my understanding Keith recently signed a contract with the Guild. I had no idea you were involved. Though, considering your predilection for taking questionable cases, I shouldn’t be surprised.”
In light of how things played out the last time we met, I couldn’t take umbrage at his assumption. However, I could level with him, at least on this particular point. I wasn’t sure why I wanted to, though. “It’s not my case.”
His face blanked so fast, it was unsettling, and a predatory stillness invaded our small space, ready to pounce. “Excuse me?”
Unable to hold his gaze, I looked down at my cup as I fiddled with it. “The case belongs to my roommate.”
The unseen danger level dropped a notch, or three. “Roommate?”
I tilted my head in acknowledgment, keeping a wary eye on him from under my lashes.
He continued to study me, his thoughts tucked well away. “So, she’s a Hunter?”
“No, she’s a Key.” The Guild’s mercenary banner stretched over multiple specialized crews. Six were publicly acknowledged: investigators known as Hunters; Hounds for tracking and retrieval; Sentinels for security; Keys for decryption and spell breaking; Spiritualists, which were mainly necromancers and mediums; and Transporters, who specialized in secured deliveries. Two other crews did their best work in the shadows, away from the harsh light of publicity: assassins known as Blades and the spy corp known as Scouts.
“Interesting.” His gaze went behind me. I managed a not-too-subtle check, but no one was approaching. When I turned back, he asked, “And she’s where?”
“Your guess is as good as mine,” I muttered and went back to poking at the apple crumble.
“Want to explain that?”
“Not particularly, no.” I couldn’t forget Evan’s warning that Lena’s location was being blocked by a powerful mage, and not only was Zev pretty damn powerful, but so was the Family that held his loyalty. Until I knew exactly how the Cordovas were tied to the Thatchers, I wasn’t keen on sharing much more with Zev.
He sighed. “Are you always this stubborn?”
Since the answer was yes, I declined to answer on the grounds that it would incriminate me.
He drummed his fingers on the table. “Fine, keep your secrets.”
Considering his stubbornness could rival mine, I hadn’t expected such quick capitulation. My gaze flew to his as I tried to find the inevitable trap.
As soon as our gazes collided, his smile was all teeth. “For now.”
Yep, there it is. Unwilling to dig my proverbial hole any deeper, I went back and
tugged on a possible link. “Did Keith have something to do with Jeremy’s kidnapping?”
Zev sat back and studied me. “That’s a hell of a topic shift, Rory.”
“Is it really?” It was time to use Zev’s annoying tactics on him. “Keith worked for LanTech. Jeremy’s mom not only worked for LanTech, but was selling her research to their competitor, Origin, hence LanTech’s and Origin’s decisions to send two different professional retrieval teams after her kid. A kid who incidentally is the Cordova heir. Keith’s dead. You’re here. I’m just trying to connect the dots.” I slipped my fork under a bit of crumble, brought it up, and stuffed it in my mouth. A safer move than adding “jackass.”
“LanTech closed its doors months ago.” His answer was really more like a half-assed dodge than an answer.
I lobbed it back with a noise of agreement as I swallowed. “True, but you’re not answering my question. Did Keith have anything to do with the kidnapping attempt?”
“If he did”—Zev picked up his cup—“you would be chasing a ghost.” He took a sip, his gaze locked with mine.
Yes, you’re a badass. I get it. “I had to ask,” I murmured.
The thing was, there were multiple ways for an Arcane Family to deal with a perceived threat. And six months ago, both LanTech and Origin, a biotech research company, put themselves on the Cordova radar. Lara, Jeremy’s mom, had decided to sell her research for LanTech to Origin, despite the fact that selling said research violated numerous NDAs and ethical clauses. Both companies were keen on claiming her research, so much so that two weeks after her death, they’d kidnapped her only child in an effort to force the Cordovas’ hand in obtaining that research. Not the smartest move on their part. When it came to things like justice and vengeance, the Arcane Families struck not only with lethal speed, but also ruthless accuracy. I held no delusions that LanTech’s doors were shut tight because of anything other than the merciless retribution dished out by the Cordova Family.
As for Origin, I was fairly sure that their burgeoning financial woes touted in the news outlets could also be traced back to the Cordovas’ displeasure. When the last grain of dust settled, both LanTech’s demise and Origin’s imminent one would be the direct result of their failed attempt to kidnap the heir to the Cordova Family.
“A word of advice, babe.”
The endearment caught me unawares and left me grappling for balance even as I paid attention.
“If you plan on working with the Families, might I suggest you learn the value of discretion?”
Oh, I knew all about how to keep secrets, but sometimes a direct approach worked. Maybe not this time, but for Lena’s sake, it was worth the attempt. Since Zev was blocking that investigative side street, it was time to backtrack. “Since you’re so interested in Keith, does that mean you’re going to be my shadow?”
Amusement and something I couldn’t decipher sparked in his dark eyes. “I have a better question for you. How far do you think you’ll get on your own?”
Unsure if he was truly curious or implying something ominous, I frowned. “What do you mean?”
He leaned in, his elbows situated on either side of his cup as he laced his fingers together. “You said this wasn’t your case, which makes me wonder why a Transporter is investigating a Guild case better suited to a Hunter.”
If he expected a response, he was shit out of luck. Unfortunately, he wasn’t one to back down. He pointed a finger at me. “That right there tells me this is personal.”
I stiffened in my seat. “What right where?”
“That stubborn chin lift and mutinous pout.” I went to fold my arms, but he caught my wrist, stilling my movement. “Answer me honestly—are you really working for the Guild?”
With our past track record, his question shouldn’t have caused a flare of hurt, but it did. I stamped it down, trying to ignore how his touch sank through flesh and bone, threatening to leave an indelible mark. With nowhere left to go, I met his gaze with a shaky defiance. “The Director is aware I’m looking into it.”
“Is she now?” he murmured, his thumb brushing the inside of my wrist. “Tell me, Rory, how many investigations have you done?”
The answer to that was none, but I would be damned if I gave him that. “Why the interrogation, Zev? Are you worried I’m going to mess things up for you?”
His absent-minded caressing stopped, and there was something in his expression that worried me. “Actually, yes.” Although his blunt honesty took me by surprise, a part of me was thankful he wasn’t jerking me around. Well, not jerking me around much. Before I could formulate a response, he kept going. “If you follow standard investigative procedure, your next stop is going to be who? Madeline Thatcher?”
I gave a half-hearted shrug and tried to tug my hand free. When his grip tightened in warning, I heaved a heavy sigh and gave up. “Yes.”
His gaze sharpened, reminding me of a hawk spotting his next meal. “Did you already call and make an appointment to see her?”
Feeling like I was missing something and not liking it one bit, I snapped, “It’s on my to-do list as soon as you and I part ways.”
“Yeah, good luck with that.”
This time when I tugged, he let me go. I dropped my hands to my lap, absently rubbing at the lingering sensation of his touch. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Exactly what you think it does,” he shot back. “If you think she’ll meet with you to discuss her ex-husband, you’re in for a world of disappointment.”
“If she refuses to meet with me, then I’ll drop by her office or home. It’s not like she can ignore me forever.” So long as Lena was missing, there was no way I’d back off Madeline. I knew how to make a nuisance of myself until I got the answers I wanted.
“Actually, she can.”
The certainty in Zev’s statement pulled me up short. “What do you mean?”
“If Madeline Thatcher doesn’t want to talk to you, she won’t.”
“She may run in elite circles, but she’s not Family. Eventually, she’ll have to talk to me.”
“No, she doesn’t.” He sat back and flattened his palm against the table. “She may not belong to one of the Arcane Families, but she has allies—powerful allies—and that can be just as important as claiming a Family blood tie.”
Pushing past my personal fascination with Zev and the confusing emotions that entailed, I studied him with a critical eye as my thoughts spun. I wasn’t stupid. I knew how things worked in our world. The majority of the population could call on some trace levels of magic, but the strongest power users belonged to the bloodlines of the twenty-seven original Families. Generations of careful cultivation and genetic manipulation had ensured their progeny remained at the top of the magical food chain. It had helped even more when those Families took an active part in shifting the tide during the World Wars almost a century past. Now descendants of those Families enjoyed a glittery spot under the public limelight, even as whispers said they moved in shadows, shaping politics, dominating corporations, and pretty much ruling the Arcane society. It also meant anyone who wanted to thrive within the shark-infested waters, like Madeline had managed to do for years, needed strong ties of their own. Staring at Zev, I began to get an awful, terrifying idea. “So in order to talk to Madeline, I need allies of my own.”
“Yes.”
“Allies like you?”
He smiled, but there was nothing comforting or humorous about it.
My thoughts stilled and perched precariously on a dangerous edge. The trap was right there, but I couldn’t see another path around it. Thinking of Lena, I asked, “What’s it going to cost me?”
“You’ll owe me a favor.”
A thousand and one reasons why that was such a horrible idea swept through me and left me shaking my head. “Uh-uh, no way am I going to agree to blindly serve the Cordova Family.”
“I didn’t say you’d owe the Family,” he countered, an unsettling depth deepening his voice. “I said you’d o
we me.”
“You?” I choked out as my mind and body went to war. His clarification rattled the cage lurking in the deepest part of my hormone-driven psyche, releasing some of its down-and-dirty contents.
“Me,” he confirmed.
“And what would this favor entail?” That damn cage rattled harder. I kicked it back into the corner.
“I’ll know when I’m ready to call it in.”
“And when would that be?” I pushed.
“When I’m ready.”
Okay, that sounded like a threat… or maybe a promise. God, I’m in trouble here. For an endless moment, I tried to decide if I was thrilled or terrified. Thrilled, because Zev fascinated me on a personal level I didn’t like to admit to. Terrified, because continued contact with him would drag me into a volatile world I’d spent years avoiding. Injured pride wanted to call his bluff and dial Madeline to demand a meeting, but that wasn’t just stupid. It was also reckless. Zev was right about one thing—if my professional future included dealing with the Families on something more than a superficial level, I needed allies. That meant there was no way to avoid the path looming before me. It would be a bitch to navigate, but I would do it. Not just because he’d invaded my dreams for months after we went our separate ways, but because I was willing to take whatever risks were necessary to find my best friend. Lena was one of the few things in my life that never buckled, never gave. For her, I would trudge through hell barefoot.
My silence must have gone on too long, because he said, “You’re welcome to try calling Madeline and getting an appointment.” He picked up his drink and sat back. “I’ll wait.”
Arrogant smartass. He and I both knew I wouldn’t make it past the initial hello. Yeah, I had no doubt I was going to regret taking his offer, but it didn’t stop me from saying, “Fine, I’ll owe you, but only if you can get me in to see Madeline within the next twenty-four hours.”
He gave me a wolfish grin, pulled out his phone, thumbed through his screen, hit a number, and brought it up to this ear. The entire time, he held my gaze captive, and I did my best not to squirm. “Hello, Debbie, this is Zev Aslanov. Any chance Madeline has time to meet with me to discuss some business?” He paused, his gaze unwavering. “Tomorrow works. Morning if possible.” Another pause, and his grin morphed into a smirk.