“What do you do with them?”
Her eyebrows rose. “Uhm, what do you think? I toss them.”
“Are you fucking kidding me? You’re throwing them out when you have a perfectly large specimen of male here every night who could use some fattening up?”
“Oh, now you want me to feed you.” Her blush deepened. “I mean…junk food.”
He stared at her, couldn’t force a word out if his life were at stake. That night came back in full color, sharpening his senses and riling a different kind of hunger.
“So, uh, did you find anything last night?”
He shook his head, more to clear it than to answer. “Nothing. There’s more video to sort through, though. We’ll get there, probably tonight.”
“Can I help?”
“Of course you can.” He stood and leaned closer to where she perched at the edge of her desk. “Are you sure you’re up to working? How’d things go today?”
Her face betrayed her pain, but her voice was steady. “I filled out a lot of forms, and they ran tests today. I’m grateful for that. They don’t have to, but I think Doc’s trying to buy me a little time to cope. It’s just…”
He swept his fingertips along her cheek. It felt like a rose petal. “Just?”
“There’s nothing I can do to fight this.”
“I know, turtle.”
Her eyes widened. “Turtle?”
Aw, hell. Had that slipped out? He backed away and cleared his throat. He’d swear his face was heating again. A quick peek at the blinds showed them still tightly shut.
“You’re blushing.” Before he could duck away, she took his face in her hands. “I never knew you could blush.”
“It’s the sunlight.”
“No, you are blushing. Your face is fine.” Her eyes narrowed. “Why would you call me turtle?”
“Never mind about that,” he answered. “We need to get going if we’re to view all the video tonight.”
She pursed her lips, but picked up her jacket and followed him out. They’d settled into a comfortable silence in the car. Focused on her phone, she tapped away.
“It’s an endearment, an old one,” she said.
“What?” His head angled toward her.
“Turtle.” She read from her little screen. “As early as the fifteenth century, turtle was used as an endearment often referring to a lover.” Her eyes went from her screen to his face. “A turtle dove.”
His attention returned to the road, but he smiled. Tenacious, she was. “You don’t let things go, do you?”
“How old are you, Ian? When were you born?”
“Don’t rightly remember.”
“Oh, come on.”
He sighed. “Around 1370-something.” He shot her an indignant frown. “And that term is older than the fifteenth century. Can’t trust anything on the Internet these days.”
She laughed a sweet, bubbly laugh. “You, sir, are charming when you want to be.”
“I was trying?”
“God help me if you weren’t,” she said under her breath. “Oh, I may have found a loophole for Graham, but I need your help.”
His mood soured at the mention of the weasel who’d been involved with the plan to kill Kade a few months earlier. “I’ll hang him myself.”
“Ian, no! He’s my friend, and there’s no way he’d ever willingly do anything to kill Kade. I won’t let him die. The laws are different for Trackers than the other Legion. If he were a Tracker, we could turn him over to you, and he wouldn’t have to be executed. So, my question is how can we make him a Tracker? Fast.”
“Have you lost your flippin’ mind?” He nearly went off the road, but caught himself as the tires bumped the curb. Her eyes flew wide at the jolt. Luckily, they were at the parking lot for his headquarters. He pulled into an empty space, shut off the car, and leaned toward her. “You think any ignorant fuck with fangs can do what I do? The fucking Dominorum Enforcers can’t even do it.”
She faced his fury like it didn’t exist. “But can’t you make him one, take him into custody, and then fire him? There has to be some other punishment for him besides execution.”
“It’s not a job, Alice. It’s what we are. Once a Tracker, always a Tracker. There are no ex-Trackers, only dead ones. You have no idea what it means to be one.”
Her silver eyes pleaded with him. “I don’t know what else to do. Ian, you said you’d do anything.”
He plunked back in his seat and thumped his head a couple times against the headrest. “Now, she wants to pull that card.”
“You’re talking to yourself again.”
“That’s what happens when there’s no one intelligent around to talk to.”
“Don’t be such a hick.”
He blew out a forceful breath. “You don’t know what you’re asking of me.”
“I’m desperate. Please?”
He hurried to her door before she could get it. Her hand was tiny and soft in his as he helped her out of the low-slung sports car. And then she penetrated him with those eyes of hers and liquefied him inside.
“Ian?” she whispered. “If I could find another way…”
“I know.” Before she could walk away, he leaned in and touched his lips to hers, a butterfly brush of skin on skin. An urgent need to linger pounded at his skull, but he backed off. It was a gratifying moment when she touched her lips with her fingertips. “I’ll help if I can, but I won’t guarantee anything.”
Her smile was a sun that didn’t burn, but warmed him deeply from head to toe. “I’ll owe you—”
“Nothing,” he said. “You’ll owe me nothing. Don’t get your hopes up.”
“Well, it’s too late for that.”
He stopped her at the entrance to the square metal-and-glass building. “Alice, the only way to do this is to bend some rules, use some connections. Can you live with that?”
Surprise, frustration, apprehension—her face was an emotional slideshow. She struggled with her conscience, and then she gave in. “The rules are killing my brother. So…yeah, I think I can deal with some rule-breaking. A little.”
He grunted and then led her inside. Skirting the law distressed her, no matter what she said. The frown pulling at her lips threatened permanence. As much as he hated the self-analysis, she’d been right about his tendency to toss the rule book. Depending on his position to shield him made it too easy to take that route first. But this time he’d do it for her and not his own sake. Schmuck that he was.
Unlike the VLO building, Tracker headquarters was sealed tight like a fortress, with very few windows—multiple balconies but only solid doors leading out to them. Entry at the access door required a fingerprint scan and a pin code. Alice probably felt she was walking into a tomb, but the lobby would change that. At least the designers had gone full luxury on the interior with marble flooring, high vaulted ceilings, extravagant furniture, and creative artwork by prominent Legion artists.
As she studied the place with interest, he signed her in at the front desk. The lower-ranking Tracker there eyed her with an open wariness Ian chose to ignore as he led her away to the elevators. The vault was in the deepest belly of the building, two floors below lobby-level. Dec met them at the lower-level elevators, barely nodding at Alice and snubbing him completely.
“I love you, too, you arrogant bastard,” Ian said.
“Whatever. I’ve been at this for hours. It’s your turn, love.”
He eyed Dec’s wrinkled Dior suit—or Gucci, Klein, Valentino, whatever. “What did you do, spend the day here?”
Dec sighed. “Something like that.”
“Well, go on. Go feed or whatnot. I don’t need a grizzly looking over my shoulder.” He saw his friend out and shut the vault behind him. Too bad the vault wasn’t nearly as impressive as the lobby. Basically an open warehouse, it featured endless rows of box-lined shelves. A spacious, clear area near the elevator contained a single, utilitarian desk, a table with coffee and tea service, and a wide security
console with a few metal folding chairs.
“Is he always like that?”
“Like he’s got a bur the size of a whale where the light doesn’t shine?” he asked. “If that’s what you meant, then yes. He’s always like that.”
With a distracted chuckle, she surveyed the space. “It’s massive.”
“I know, but whaddya think about the vault?”
She turned to him with a peculiar emotion in her eyes, soft and a bit stunned.
If he didn’t know how much she despised the way he worked, he would’ve mistaken that for “I’m falling for you.”
“What?” he asked.
Without answering, she ducked her head. “Let’s get to work.”
“There’s coffee there by the desk.” He glanced at her while he turned on the screen at the viewing console. Goddamn, she was worth changing for. He loved bantering with her. The teasing. She inspired him more than anyone he’d ever met. Speaking of teasing… “With fixin’s to make it white. Wouldn’t want you to lose your sweetness.”
Her answering smile gratified him, enveloped him in warmth he hadn’t known in half a century. Hell, he’d make her smile every damned day just to feel this. Once she’d collected her cream and sugar colored with a touch of coffee, he settled into a chair beside her in front of the screen. The video was set to fast-forward, projecting them ahead through time. An hour stretched by and then another and another. Right about then, vesania sounded enjoyable.
“Not keen on the soundtrack,” he said.
“What soundtrack?”
“Yep.”
“We could make our own. You take Hansel, and I’ll take Gretel.”
At the moment, a male and female were in the vault, going through one of the other crates of evidence.
Her eyes sparkled as she smiled, and a tiny dip of a crease appeared in her left cheek. When she let go like this, she went from beautiful to outright divine. He might go to crazy lengths to get this from her—Alice without the walls, without her cloak of sorrow.
He laughed. “Sounds like fun. This’d be even better with popcorn. And hot sauce.”
“Why hot sauce?”
“What? Are you saying you’ve never put hot sauce on your popcorn?”
She started to speak and then froze, nudging his face toward the screen. “Rewind! Rewind!”
Bumping the controls, he reeled the feed backward, and there it was. A man digging into the crate containing the Infancy evidence. A very recognizable man.
“Holy fuck,” he muttered.
“Who is that? Looks like a circus freak.”
“Mmm. That’s because he was one.” He set the time interval and copied the video to a portable drive. “He’s a Legion Tracker called The Revenant. And no, before you ask, that’s not his real name. Real name’s something smarmy like Bob or Ed. He didn’t think the name a car salesman would have suited his new persona.”
She stared at the image as if entranced. “He looks like a living skeleton.”
“Well, you won’t miss him walking about.”
The Revenant was indeed a walking tattooed skeleton, his entire body marked up to resemble a high school science dummy, with the skull, spine, ribs and everything. Even had the plates of the skull tattooed on him and shading around the hollows of the artwork bones.
“Did he do that because he became a vampire?”
“Tattoos and vampires don’t mix. The marks heal. That was done before he turned.”
He made a call to Dec, giving him the update. His friend didn’t sound too surprised, but he’d never liked Revenant anyway. Neither had Ian, for that matter. Without a speck of enthusiasm, he dialed Izel. A few ear-blistering minutes later, she calmed enough to make sense. And then she hung up on him with only two words of instruction: “Find him.”
“I’m on it,” he said belatedly. He took a deep breath.
“That didn’t sound good.”
“Izel.” That would have been explanation enough if she knew Izel. The Legion Commander was one tough bitch. “She isn’t too happy with me right now. Should have kept her updated.”
“That’s all?”
“It’s enough. Izel makes it her business to know everything that happens around here. Everything.” He sank into his chair. “She says Revenant hasn’t checked in for two days.”
“Is that normal?”
“Hell, no.” Leaning back, he rubbed his eyes, hoping it would ease the headache forming behind them. “It means he’s either dead or gone rogue. Revenant’s one of our best Trackers. Why couldn’t it have been one of the grunts in Accounting?”
“What does that mean?”
“Basically? Shit just got real.”
Chapter Fourteen
Two hours had passed since Alice silenced her multiple alarms. Any minute, Ian would call, demanding to know where she was, and that was okay with her. He was easier to deal with over the phone. Maybe she should feel terrible for staying in bed. Shutting out the world and holing up under the covers in the middle of a murder investigation wasn’t in her job description. Especially after seeing the video last night. Instead of guilt, she felt…nothing. Drained of life.
She’d elected to donate Zach’s organs, and the doctors had taken him into surgery earlier that morning for some of them. The rest would be collected tomorrow after…God, she couldn’t think about it. Why did this feel so much like letting her twin die without a fight?
A knock on the outer door reached faintly to her in the bedroom. She’d swear her landlord’s elderly mother, Mrs. Roberts, had little elfin spies watching for her comings and goings. Lonely old woman. Would she end up the same, living in a dump apartment off social security and canned food distributions?
She didn’t want to face Mrs. Roberts so she pulled the covers over her head and curled back into her ball of gloom. Then she flinched when cold air hit her upper body. With a startled scream, she bolted up against her headboard.
“Shhh. You’re okay,” Ian said.
She clutched a handful of camisole at her chest. “Goddamn you, Ian!”
“What are you doing here?” He wore his worried face. Every time she saw it, her heart turned to mush. Since losing her parents in a car accident not long after Zach’s shooting, she’d been on her own with no one to lean on. No family. It had struck to her core to see his pain at losing Sean and Leah, like looking in a mirror.
“What are you doing here? You broke into my house.”
He sat next to her on the edge of the bed. “Seeing as you were supposed to meet me at your office an hour ago, you don’t think I might have worried over you?”
“Okay. Use a phone.” She gestured to her cell phone on the nightstand. “I don’t feel well.”
She didn’t even have the energy to protest as his eyes grazed over her scantily clad self. Only there was nothing lascivious in his eyes, but something more, something that defied description. He said nothing to her before pulling her into his arms, and she said nothing to him as she clung to him. After a moment, she leaned back.
“You’re all damp. Is it raining?”
He smiled. “From the shower. I fit my workout in before night fell.”
She pulled back further, scrunching her nose at him. “You work out?”
With mock outrage, he snorted. “You trying to say something? Do I look soft to you, then?”
Don’t ogle. Don’t ogle. Don’t you dare check him out. Damn traitorous eyes. “Uhm, no.”
“Of course I work out. Immortalis don’t come with bodies like mine.” He curled his arm, pumping his bicep up in front of her. “Have to work for these guns. Care to touch ‘em?” A full-on, dimple-cheeked grin drove a lightning response through her body.
She took a heated, shaky breath and then laughed. “I can’t believe you pulled out the guns. Desperate much?”
A flash of the devil entered his eyes. “Why, yes, Miss Capshaw. I am.”
She squirmed to get free of his arm around her waist, but he held tight. “Lecherous hick
.”
“That’s lecherous Irish hick to you, turtle.” He caught her and dragged her onto his lap. The fabric of his jeans teased her bare skin. That’s what she got for wearing itty-bitty boyshorts to bed. Her naked face and mussed bedhead couldn’t be attractive.
“You’ve been crying.”
“Nope.” Her traitorous sniffle betrayed her lie.
“Of course not.” He smoothed her hair from her face. “Want to tell me about it?”
“What about Revenant?”
“Don’t want to hear about Revenant.” He pressed his forehead to hers. “I want to hear about Alice.”
She groaned dramatically. “You go first.”
“All right.” He cleared his throat just as dramatically. “My team is tracking down the faithless bastard.”
“Team?”
“Nope. No more. It’s classified. Top Secret.” He rubbed her chin with his thumb. She continued her expectant stare. Yep, that was a definite fidget. Nice how well this worked on him. “Need to know only, turtle. The message will self-destruct.”
Slow, steady blink number one, and number twoooo, and…that did it. With a sigh, he pushed her back onto the bed and stretched his lanky body next to her with his head propped on his hand. She struggled to keep a straight face. Smug never looked good on anyone. Except maybe him.
“There are six of us,” he said. “We’ve been after a gang called Slavers, a group of humans who capture adjuvants and force them to turn humans illegally.”
She gasped. “They’ve been making deranged vampires?”
“Yes. Kade discovered them. He and Ezra got together to solve the issue. Over time, they gained a mixed group, two of us Legion Trackers—”
“You and Dec.”
“Yep. And Lucca with the FBI and a state officer named Gunner.”
“Oh, I know Guns. He called me to report the first murder.”
“He what?” An ominous growl rolled from him. “That little shit.”
Her eyes widened. “It’s okay. We’re past that now.”
“Uh-huh. We are.”
His glower darkened, but all she could do was smile stupidly at him. Oh, and was she ever stupid. There wasn’t a side to him yet that wasn’t deliciously endearing. No man on Earth but him could pull her so effectively from her misery.
Bad Cop (Entangled Covet) Page 10