Not organized crime, Jordan thought. Chimera.
And Malcolm Rook dropped off the face of the planet because he wasn’t permitted to live openly. It’s what had been worrying her all morning because it’d suddenly dawned on her that she wouldn’t be able to live openly, either. It’s why he was sticking close, because people knew where she lived and worked. Why they had to “talk”—he had yet to drop the bomb that she had to pack up and disappear. Mr. Conner, if that was his real name, would probably be suggesting the same thing to Maze, who was not going to cooperate no matter what threats he threw at her.
Vince touched her arm to catch her attention again. “Get away from him and stay away. In fact, I’d feel more comfortable if you came and stayed at my place for a little while. Separate rooms, of course. A little vacation.”
Huh. Vince actually was a reasonable option. He made sense.
Michael, or Malcolm, had lied to her, which made her tighten with anxiety, but the more she thought about it…she didn’t blame him. Either she trusted him or she didn’t. And if he had wanted to harm her or Maze, he’d had the opportunity several times.
“That’s a generous offer,” she said. “I need a little time to think about it.”
She didn’t need time—the answer was no—but putting Vince off seemed easier than refusing, which would beg other questions and concerns.
And if she was correct about what Rêve had done to her life, then it was pointless to come in to work tomorrow anyway. Messieurs Conner and Rook could deal with the local authorities when Vince put in his missing persons report about her.
Served them right.
“You don’t have the luxury of time, Jordan,” Vince pressed. “Malcolm Rook, a known criminal, sits a few yards from this room.”
She smiled reassuringly. “And as far as he knows, you’re just a client. Not a friend who’s helping me out.”
The friend thing seemed to work, because Vince relaxed. “I’d like to be more than a friend. Leave with me now. We’ll work out the rest as we go. You can even bring your sister. I know you don’t do anything without her.”
Jordan cooled at the mention of Maisie. “I’m not prepared to make a decision right now.”
“Well, I can’t very well let you leave with Malcolm Rook.”
Vince was smooth. Vince was polite and articulate. But for the first time, she heard the subtle break of a threat.
“There’s a simple way to resolve this.” Jordan stepped to the corner of the conference room, where she could signal Malcolm to join them so he could explain why he was there himself. Put him on the spot.
“The way to resolve this is to get the hell out of here, then call the police.”
Jordan wasn’t listening. She’d caught Malcolm’s eye—he straightened in his chair when he noticed her.
He didn’t seem to realize that his creepy little brother was back, this time in the waking world, standing with malevolent patience at his shoulder.
Oh dear God.
“Jordan, let’s leave together right now,” Vince was saying behind her. “I have people who can protect you.”
Aggravated, she half-turned, not taking her gaze from the boy, and waved Vince silent.
It was Vince’s body dropping to the floor that brought her attention all the way around.
CHAPTER 6
“I told you we needed to talk,” Rook said. The elevator wasn’t coming quickly enough, so he directed Jordan to the stairs. She’d go even faster without those damn shoes.
“I’m freaking out here,” Jordan snapped. “You tell me what just happened right now.”
“You drowned him, is all.” Rook was reeling. Holy hell, she drowned him. “He’ll float back up to the surface sooner or later.”
Rook had propped him in a chair to sleep off the effects. With his head bobbing forward like that, Millions looked like he was reading something on his tablet. Not the file on Malcolm Rook, however. That had been deleted.
Aptitude didn’t begin to describe the talent Jordan had. Brilliance got a little closer. Genius?
“Drowning sounds like he’s dead.” Panic laced her every word.
Technically, she probably could kill if she wanted to.
Rook paused on the fourth floor landing. Looked her right in the eyes. “Drowning is Darkside lingo, that’s all. When we go under, it’s like going under water. Drowning someone means you shoved them deep into their dreams.”
“So he’s okay?”
Rook dodged. “He might move into a Rêve if he has access, and a guy like that probably does.”
She was on to him, because she asked again, “You’re sure he’s okay?”
“Yes.” He hoped. He’d have Coll follow up. Backup was probably already in the conference room. Rook had no idea where they’d take the unconscious body or what they’d tell Jordan’s office.
“Think about it, Jordan. I woke you up last night from inside a dream.” Hadn’t worked on Vince just now, though. “I can also put someone to sleep.”
The skill was tricky to master and it usually took a lot of experience. She’d basically pulled the carpet right out from under Millions with no effort.
“We can do things,” Rook said. “All Chimera can. Shared dreaming brings the abilities out.”
Her frown grew truly tragic.
“It’s going to be all right,” he promised. “I’ll make sure you’re all right.”
She shook her head.
If that wasn’t what was bothering her, then— “What? Tell me.”
She went steely. “I saw your brother again.”
Joshua. She’d seen him. “While you were awake?”
“Just before I…drowned Vince, but then Joshua disappeared right after. He was there, beside you, and now he’s gone again.”
Okay. “That’d be darksight. I already knew you had that.” More complicated was that she’d learned that the boy was his brother Joshua. Rook’s nightmare was not going away. It was manifesting for others to see. “I have darksight, too. It’s what allows me to track my Special Cases. It’s a good thing.”
“Seeing that boy is a good thing?”
“Good for you, yes. The fact that he’s there in the first place? No.” He gestured for them to continue down the stairs. “But Joshua is my problem. My bad history catching up with me. You might not be able to see him at the moment, but my guess is he’s still there and will be waiting next time I go Darkside. I’ll deal with him.”
It was an empty promise. He’d already tried, but nothing was working. Joshua was getting worse. Rook was going to have to at least tell Coll, now that Jordan knew. And Coll would understand Rook’s sudden shift to recruitment. He might question his stability. Might take him off handling Jordan.
And damn it, maybe that was a good thing. He didn’t want his past messing with her. He had no business screwing up her transition. It was hard enough.
Jordan descended the steps next to him. A couple of photographs nudged out of her purse. She’d taken what personal effects she could grab in thirty seconds. Another kitty, too. Must be a thing with her. Apparently she’d deduced that she wouldn’t be coming back to her office.
“I saw Blackman’s file on me,” Rook said. Better to have it out in the open.
Took a few steps, but finally, she began, “Did you—?”
When she didn’t finish, he turned to her again. “Did I what?”
“Nothing. Never mind. Let’s go.”
He didn’t know what exactly she’d intended to ask, but he went with the worst question that came to mind. The one that haunted him.
“Yes, Jordan,” he said. “I killed Joshua. He was nine. I was fourteen. I shoved him into the road, and he got hit by a car.”
“You didn’t mean to.”
“In that moment I was angry enough at him not to care, not to look both ways. It didn’t occur to me that anything could hurt him. I had no idea that he could actually die. Thought we were both fucking immortal.”
She’d
frozen. Wasn’t breathing. Just looked at him with that expression of dismay, tears threatening to spill.
“Any more questions?”
She shook her head, and it sent one tear skating down her cheek. She quickly wiped it away.
Yeah, they were both having a shitty day. “Then let’s go.”
They descended the last floors in a silence made of her heels clumping and his occasional shuffling, and he pushed out the exit on P1.
When they were on the road, he called Coll to follow up.
Vince had been taken to the hospital, where he would be kept until he awoke. Doctors had been told to call it a stroke. Officially, Vincent Blackman was in a coma. Worst case, someone—a tracker—would have to go Darkside and find him. Bring him back to the waking world.
“I’ve got my own epic problems,” Coll continued. “Crazy Maisie has tried to lose me twice. At least yours does what you say. Jordan could drown your ass just as easily as she did Blackman, but she doesn’t.”
He and Jordan had other issues. “Maybe if you took a less hardline approach.”
“Yeah, I know all about your kind of approach.”
The chemistry between him and Jordan hadn’t been deliberate, but he hadn’t fought it, either. “There are worse ways to fail.”
Coll gave a hard laugh. “I’ll take it under consideration. Maisie Lane is enjoying my pursuit way too much. Keep her sister safe, or I’m a dead man.”
When Rook ended the call, Jordan finally spoke. “Where are we going?”
“Your place, so you can pick up some things. Coll is taking care of Blackman. You’ve nothing to worry about there.”
If he didn’t wake up soon, Rook would go after him himself.
“Coll?”
Mistake. “The Chimera agent watching your sister. We use aliases while recruiting in case our mark decides against us, or worse, turns against us. Are you going to decide against Chimera?”
Because she now knew their real names. He really didn’t want to bring in a picker to remove them from her memory. He’d done so in the past, but the thought was foul when it came to her.
That silent, steely composure came over her again. No tears now.
He didn’t blame her for not answering. She’d known him all of thirty-six hours, and for most of that, she’d feared him. Probably still did.
But it would do neither him nor Chimera any good if she felt backed into a corner. He liked her too much to lie by omission, then try to kiss her later. He’d done that already with mixed results. Maybe the full truth was better.
“You do have other choices,” he said. “The private sector has a few good Rêve shops, all expanding beyond entertainment to commerce and communication. I’m sure someone like Vince Blackman would spend a lot to protect you and keep you happy. You’re a hot commodity.”
Her resume need only say Darksight and drowning.
Rook took the ramp onto the freeway. “In fact, he probably went to the Envoi to look for you specifically.”
“How could he possibly have known that I’d be there that night?”
Rook shrugged. “A couple of scenarios would account for it, your sister being the most likely connection. Rêve aptitude runs in families. It makes perfect sense that someone who might know of her activities would see whether she had a sibling and be ready when that sib was going to try Rêve.” He pushed a little harder, sure that Jordan would make the connection. “They may have even made a venue conveniently available.”
“That’s why I could simply charge a spot on the Envoi when there were thousands who wanted the same ticket. Who’d pay more.”
“Probably, yes. It was rigged. Helped that there was no Agora oversight as well.”
“Was Maze in on it, do you think?” The tone of her voice slipped upward with feeling.
Rook had seen the sisters together, and they were loyal, each different, but with a protective hold on the other. “No. I think she was just supposed to meet her contact.”
“But Vince knew.”
She missed nothing. “I don’t see how he couldn’t. He made straight for you. Doesn’t mean he’s a bad guy. He might just be expanding his business and had a previous acquaintance with you.”
“And you?” she asked. “What about you?”
“I was hunting for recruits, sure, but I didn’t know about you in particular. Struck fucking gold. My point is that Blackman or others might have a good Rêve shop. And a swimming pool, too.”
“Chimera doesn’t have a pool?”
Rook frowned. “No pool, sweetheart.”
They each lived on their own. Quietly, but independent of direct oversight.
“Does it have any amenities at all?”
If she wanted amenities—
He looked over because he couldn’t believe his ears, only to find she had that ironic smirk on her mouth. Dark humor he understood.
Jordan was joking. At a time like this, she could joke.
He’d thought he was being gallant by letting her know she had options, but that smirk sealed it. She was a Chimera, whether she wanted a goddamn pool or not.
***
Jordan remembered this feeling—the sense of her life breaking open and the tailspin of disorientation that came with sudden change. The first time it happened was when her mom died, and Jordan had had to change herself most dramatically of all.
Her home had been ripped away, but no matter how prominently it still figured in her dreams, she’d learned that a place wasn’t important. The people associated with it were.
Change had come again, except this time no one was hurt, and she was stronger.
Like a roller coaster just whipping around a hairpin turn, she had no choice but to hold on for the ride. She had every right to freak out, to start shrieking, but she also had the experience to conserve her energy for when she really needed it. For now, she’d do what everyone else did on roller coasters during the steady bits—laugh. The big drops would happen soon enough.
“Malcolm Rook.” Jordan rolled the sounds around her mouth.
“Yeah?”
“Just saying it. Catching up, so to speak.” She had a lot of catching up to do. Darksight? Drowning? She couldn’t begin to process what that would mean for her life, except…change.
“You’re not angry I used the alias.”
“Well, I had covered my binder with Michael Reese and little hearts, so Maze will probably make fun of me.”
He grinned, ears going pink. Tough, scary Mr. Rook was blushing. “Nobody ever covered a binder with my name,” he said. “I dropped out of school early. Ran away.”
After his brother died, he must have been crazy with guilt. Grieving, too. He still carried the nightmare with him wherever he went.
Jordan had almost given in to tears earlier when he’d told her what happened. Almost, but hadn’t. He hadn’t wanted her tears. But she was going to bawl for him at some point when she was alone and had a couple of hours for the swelling in her eyes to go down. She’d suck the threatening tears back into her skull until that time, but yeah, she’d bawl. She might even let Maze join her.
She could piece together Malcolm Rook’s story. The accident with his brother. Running away. The cold, hard life thereafter with drugs and Rêve. Then at some point, Mr. Conner—or Coll—had found him.
For that, Coll would get one break from her, one benefit of the doubt. Because of him, Malcolm Rook had turned out okay. Well, mostly. With any luck, maybe Mr. Coll could do the same for wild Maisie.
“I grew up early myself,” Jordan said. “My second year at art school, my mom fell asleep at the wheel, crashed, and died before she reached the hospital. Maze was sixteen, but the courts let me take care of her through high school.”
“You’re a good sister.”
Well… “Honestly, I’m scared to be alone. If I don’t take good care of her, I will be.” She would never take her family for granted again. Not for a second. “She’s okay, so everything else will be too.”
&nb
sp; “Maisie Lane is more resourceful than you think,” Rook said. “Coll has a file.”
Did he now? “I don’t think I ever want to see it,” Jordan mused aloud.
Rook chuckled. “That’s probably for the best.”
They were a couple of blocks from her place, near the park, when Rook slowed.
Suddenly he tucked into a parking spot along the street, just down from her favorite Chinese place, and leaned his arms on the top of the steering wheel. “Do you think you could dunk someone else? Dunk, not drown? I’d do it myself, but he’s a bit out of my range. I have a feeling he’s not out of yours.”
“What’s going on?”
One of those steep roller-coaster drops was coming, Jordan knew it. She looked around to find the source of Rook’s concern, but only saw a guy with his dog, some action at the cleaners, a couple of teens skipping school. Normal traffic for midmorning.
“Word is officially out on you. Had to be your stunt with Blackman.” Rook jerked his chin toward the park. “There’s a Reveler up ahead, one I know. He usually hangs out in the Rêves in Vegas. I can think of only one reason why he’d be here, and that’s if Vince Blackman failed.”
“I don’t think—”
“They’re another of your options, actually. Lots of money. Of course, these guys are a little more ruthless in their approach. Dumped the body of one of my friends in the Scrape. Person never opened their eyes in the waking world again.”
The whoosh of the roller coaster’s drop had a voice screaming in her head. She, however, was surprisingly calm. “I like Chimera, thanks.”
“We can’t go forward without his spotting us. He’s obviously posted as a lookout, which means that there are probably others waiting at your apartment. I think he’ll recognize me if I get any closer. One way street—we can’t go back, unless it’s on foot.”
“Who do I dunk, again?” Any idea how?
Rook leaned toward her, put an arm around her shoulders. “Relax your sight. Let your vision blur a little. Don’tconcentrate.”
Of course she was concentrating. No part of her was going to relax, especially with Rook leaning in like that, his breath on her neck, his scent—dark and sweet—swimming in her head. The temperature had hiked ten degrees with his nearness. He was totally distracting and at a very inconvenient time.
Dark and Deadly: Eight Bad Boys of Paranormal Romance Page 52