She was flushed when he turned around. She wound her fingers in the ribbons of sliced-up sheets as though it was the most interesting thing she’d done all day. “Remind me where your keystone should be. Does not having one leave a mark?”
“Yes. But it’s only visible during the full moon. When we turn to stone, it appears as a small slab of stone we rest on. The position is different for every gargoyle. Some have both feet on theirs, some a knee and a hand. For me, it was one foot.” He sat beside her on the bed and crossed his right foot over his left knee to show her the sole of his foot where gnarled red welts marked him from heel to toes. “See how the skin looks burned?”
She nodded and made a face. “Does it hurt?”
“It aches during the full moon.” He put his foot back on the floor.
She hesitated, her fingers twisting in the sheets again. “I know you don’t want to talk about it, but I can’t help but wonder how—”
“Sloan took it from me?”
She nodded.
He sighed long and hard. “During a full moon.” He shifted uncomfortably. He’d never told anyone how he’d lost his keystone. “It’s the only time gargoyles are vulnerable. The only time that could ever happen.”
She pointed at the floor. “He broke in here?”
“No, I lived somewhere else then.” A dump. And the only place he’d been able to afford after he’d gotten out of the service. “I’d just started working for him in the show. He’d hired me because he needed a guy my size to do the lifts with his assistant and muscle the props on and off the stage. It wasn’t anything I’d ever done before, but the money was great. The whole gig was going pretty good, then three shows in, the pyrotechnics in the last act triggered some…stuff for me and—”
“What kind of stuff?”
“Those flash pots sound just like mortars.” He went silent as he relived that night and the memories it stirred up, but since Sloan had fixed him, those memories no longer held the power to cripple him. If only he could get rid of the nightmares, too.
He was glad she couldn’t see his eyes. “Reminded me of my Special Ops days and some of the fire we took. It was too much. I told him I quit. He didn’t want to let me. Made me tell him what was going on, then he told me he could fix all that. Make it so my triggers disappeared.”
Jason shook his head, the muscles in his jaw tightening. “I was desperate. Sloan paid well, and I needed the job. I let him hypnotize me.” He barked out a harsh laugh. “He got rid of my triggers all right. But he also stole my keystone.” He stood, pacing to the other side of the room as he tried to shed some of the anger coursing through him. “I was an idiot to let anyone near me during the full moon. I have no doubt that getting me to shift and then stealing my keystone was one of the easiest tricks Sloan ever pulled off.”
“I’m so sorry. That’s just awful.”
He stole a look at her, relieved the glimmer in her eyes was anger and not pity.
She brushed a strand of hair out of her eyes. “How long ago was that?”
“Two years. Two years of being Sloan’s prisoner. I am so tired of being trapped by that piece of…” Jason forced himself to calm down. Getting angry would only make him want to shift, something that was currently impossible. He blew out a hard breath and shoved a hand through his hair, tired of the memories. Worn down by the reality.
“So now you know.” He changed the subject before she could ask more questions he couldn’t bear to answer. “How was your phone call? Other than the bureaucracy, did it go okay?”
She nodded, looking down at her hands again. “I guess. They’re giving me one shot to make this all come together.”
“And if it fails?”
She laughed, a sad, bitter sound that dug into him like a blade. “Then they’re sending in a new Collector.” She glanced at him. “To bring us both in.”
He’d heard the Collection agency was ruthless. That proved it. “Let me throw a shirt and shoes on, then I’ll run you by your place for a change of clothes, and we’ll head to Sloan’s. You can fill me in on this plan.” He grabbed her hand and squeezed it. “We are not going to fail. I’m going to make damn sure of that.”
By the time they reached Sloan Tower, Claude’s confidence was back. Jason hadn’t held her lies against her and, for a guy with so much stacked against him, he gave a pretty good pep talk. Plus, he was willing to let her lead, something most alpha male types like him usually struggled with.
They walked into Sloan’s main office together. Sloan was at his desk, poring over the same ancient spell book. He closed it as they stopped in front of him. “What are you two doing here?” He looked at Claude. “Shouldn’t you be resting? If you’re well enough to be here, you’re well enough to be in the show.”
She smiled sweetly. “I’m fine. Thank you for your concern, and of course, I’m going to be in the show. I’m looking forward to it.”
Sloan relaxed like he’d been expecting a different answer.
Jason held his closed hand over the desk, loosening his fingers enough to let a stream of lamai scales trickle onto Sloan’s book.
Sloan scowled. “Not in front of her.”
Jason scowled right back. “She knows what you sent me to Hellhounds for. I told you she helped me get them. That’s how she got bitten.”
Claude held her smile. “I like my new job. I don’t want to do anything to jeopardize it.” She traced the edge of Sloan’s desk with her finger. She’d warned Jason in the car that she planned to flirt with Sloan if and when necessary to ensure they had the upper hand. “In fact, I’d do whatever it took to cement my position here.”
Sloan’s scowl faded. His curiosity was definitely piqued. “Like what?”
She shrugged coyly. “It seems to me a sorcerer of your obvious talents probably needs interesting ingredients like this on a regular basis. Ingredients that might not always be the easiest to come by. Or the most legal.”
“And this concerns you how?”
She tapped her finger on the gleaming wood and stuck her lower lip out in a half-pout. “I was a bad girl. I left a few things out on my résumé. One of which was the time I spent as a go-between for someone who supplies the kinds of goods you might be looking for.”
Sloan’s eyes narrowed. “Why would you know anyone like that? You were a showgirl.”
She matched his gaze with one just as serious. “Do you have any idea what that life is like? How hard it can be to make weigh-in without a little help? How tough it is to stay young and beautiful? To act like you’ve had hours of sleep and recovery when in fact you spent the night entertaining some whales the casino owner insisted you make nice with? Or maybe you lost sleep trying to learn the new routine your choreographer dropped on you at the last minute.” She laughed. “You haven’t seen magic until you’ve been backstage at a revue.”
“So you have a connection for glamour and energy charms.” Sloan scoffed. “Those are hardly made from the kind of ingredients I use.”
She studied her fingernails. “I know you’re working on a spell. Give me a shot at the next ingredient.”
He laughed loudly. “Oh, that’s rich. You have no idea what you’re asking.”
Jason crossed his arms. “Give her a try.”
Sloan stared at Claude for a long moment without saying anything. “What’s in this for you?”
“I told you, I want to secure my position in the show.”
Sloan snorted. “I find it hard to believe that’s all you want.”
“I want my name added to the marquee.”
He rolled his eyes. “I knew it.” He shook his head like she’d asked him for the moon. “Never going to happen. Tell you what, I’ll give you a chance to get the stuff I need. You make it happen, I’ll give you a fifteen percent raise. That’s a decent sum. But when you fail, I want something from you.”
“I won’t fail, so go ahead, name your price.”
He smiled. “You want your place in the show secure? When you fail,
you’ll sign a blood contract. Or this ends now.”
A blood contract would mean Sloan owned her. She’d be in the same place Jason was, forced to work for the rest of her life for a man who had only his best interests at heart. She almost shivered, but managed to hold on to her composure by reminding herself that if this mission failed, Sloan would be the least of her worries. “Fine.”
Sloan dropped into his desk chair like he’d just won the Lucky Seven jackpot. “Tell your contact I need dragon’s bone. An ounce—no, make it two.”
Jason sucked in a breath. “That’s a banned substance, you son of a—”
“No problem,” Claude said. “My source can handle that.” She hoped. Dragon’s bone was an extremely rare and dangerous element. Sloan might as well have asked for unicorn horn. That was probably next on his list.
“Good.” Sloan couldn’t keep the sparkle out of his eyes. “Tonight, after the show. We’ll meet right here.”
“No.” She shook her head. “The meet needs to be private and not in town. My contact is very particular about where exchanges take place.”
Sloan frowned. “Where then?”
She shrugged and looked at Jason. “I guess we could drive into the desert…”
“Like hell,” Sloan spat. “I’m not meeting some shady character in the middle of the wastelands.” He stood up and jabbed his finger onto the desk top. “My house. An hour after the show. Jason can drive you. He’s been there. Then he can act as my security as well.”
She held her hands up. “I’m not sure my contact will meet at your—”
“He will or the deal’s off and you and I are done.” Waves of energy sluiced off Sloan, causing the lights to flicker. “Leave me. I have to prepare for the show. Something you two better do as well. If tonight’s performance isn’t amazing, my little Claudia, we might be done anyway.”
The second Jason shut his car door, he turned to Claude. “You did it.” She was amazing. He’d never seen Sloan handled so well.
She barely smiled. Nerves bracketed her mouth. “All I did was set up the meet in the right place. There’s a lot that still has to happen. Like the show.”
“You’re going to be fine.” He started the car. “I can’t believe your guy can get dragon’s bone.”
She sighed. “I have no idea if he can or not, but there was no point in letting Sloan know that.” She pulled out her phone and started texting. “Really, it doesn’t matter. The whole point of setting up the deal is to get us into Sloan’s house so we can access his vault.”
“How is accessing Sloan’s vault going to happen, exactly? Because if I thought I could break into that vault, I would have done it years ago.”
She finished her text, then gave him a thoughtful look. “Sloan’s going to open it for us.”
“He is.”
“Mm-hmm.” She tipped her head toward the street. “We really should get to the theater.”
Jason shook his head. “Not until you fill me in on this whole plan. I’m a part of this now, and my neck’s on the line as much as yours is, so I deserve to know.”
She ran her tongue over her teeth, obviously trying to decide what to tell him. “I agree with you. You deserve to know.”
“But you still don’t want to tell me. Why? Is this some Collector secret?”
She sighed and stared at her hands, smiling ruefully. “Funny.”
“What is?”
“It’s been a long time since I cared what a man thought of me, but that’s where I’m at now.” She glanced up at him, a strange light shining in her eyes, and for a second, he saw an unbelievable amount of pain etched on her face. Then she laughed harshly, and the emotion disappeared behind a hard mask. “I believe my plan will lead him to open the vault on his own, but if it doesn’t, I’m going to give Sloan no option but to open the vault.”
“There’s always another option.”
“Not if he wants to live.” She turned away from him and stared blankly toward the street. “I know you want to talk about this, but I really need to concentrate on the show.”
Realizing that was the end of the conversation whether he wanted it to be or not, Jason pulled onto the street and drove them to the theater. They parted ways inside, each to their own dressing rooms, but he couldn’t stop thinking about their exchange. Whatever had happened to her had clearly left her with some emotional scars. It made him angry that some man had hurt her, his beautiful, fierce Claude. Although Jason hadn’t really earned the privilege to call her his, and the way things were going, he might never.
But the possibility that he could, that he might have the chance to have a woman like Claude at his side, as his partner, filled him with the same heady thrill as soaring through the open sky. She was as amazing to him as diving toward the earth at breakneck speed, as beautiful as a moonrise glimpsed from eight thousand feet and as intoxicating as the sun’s warmth on his cold, stone heart.
As he pulled on his costume, he realized he’d only begun to get to know her, but he already couldn’t imagine her not in his life. Whatever pain she’d experienced, whatever hurt some idiot had caused her, he wanted to be the man to make her forget. To give her a reason to take a chance on love again.
Love. The word made him smile. It wasn’t an emotion he’d ever thought he’d feel, not trapped in his current life. Who could love half a man?
He finally ran into Claude backstage a few minutes before the performance began. He pulled her into a secluded spot, away from the crew doing their last-minute rigging and lighting checks. “Hey, about the conversation in the car—”
“I don’t want to talk about that.” She started back toward her entrance mark.
Holding her in place, he took her face in his hands and kissed her. She stiffened at first, then slowly relaxed into him. At that moment, he broke the contact, but kept her close. “I’m not him.”
She blinked up at him. “Who?”
“Whoever it was that hurt you.”
Memories shone in her gaze, and she tried to look away. “That’s over. Completely.”
“Good. Because I want you to forget all about him. I want you to give us a chance.”
Seconds ticked by before her eyes returned to him. “You don’t know what you’re getting into.”
He kissed her once more, lightly, then dropped his hands. “Maybe not, but I’m ready to find out.”
She snorted softly, but stayed where she was. “You say that now.”
“I will always say that.”
The light in her eyes grew cold again, and he knew the only man she could see was the one who’d hurt her. “Really? Even when I have to…kill someone in front of you?” Her voice dropped to a soft, deadly whisper. “I am a Collector. Retired means nothing when I’m called in. Then the job supersedes all else. So whatever idea you have in your head about me, whatever feathery, showgirl fantasy you’ve concocted, it’s not who I am. I am a Collector. That means I do whatever it takes to accomplish the mission I’ve been tasked with, even spilling blood.”
Jason narrowed his gaze. “You know what that man has done to me. You think I’d have a problem with you spilling that man’s blood if that’s what it takes to put some fear into him?”
She shook her head sadly. “Not a problem with me doing it to him, but what about when it comes to someone you don’t have that kind of animosity for?”
“I am descended from a line of creatures meant to guard against evil.”
She nodded, her voice still soft. “I know. That’s what worries me.” She looked away. “There are things Collectors have to do sometimes…things that are more gray than black or white. Right or wrong is sometimes less important than getting the job done.”
With one finger, he turned her face toward him. “You know a little of my history, that before my indentured servitude to Sloan, I was Special Forces. That past alone is enough to make me understand. I have skeletons in my closet I pray no one ever sees. You’re not going to scare me away if you suddenly go all tig
er warrior princess on me.”
“That’s not really the side of me I’m worried about you seeing.”
If this was in reference to the other form she could take, he couldn’t imagine what that might be. But he knew it didn’t matter. “Whatever side of you I see, it doesn’t change who you are.”
Hope filled her eyes. “You do get it, don’t you?”
He nodded. “I do. Give me a chance, okay? That’s all I’m asking. A chance.”
“Okay.” Her smile rewarded him. “Just one more thing.”
“What’s that?” The urge to kiss her, to do more than kiss her, almost made him forget they were about to go onstage.
She stuck her finger in his chest. “Don’t get caught up in thinking about the plan. If you drop me during the show, you’ll see tiger warrior princess a lot sooner than expected.”
He grabbed her hand and pulled her against him. “If you’re trying to turn me on—”
The stage manager cleared his throat as he approached them. He tipped his head toward the curtain, his face stern. “On your marks, Ms. Smith, Mr. Tennant. We have a show to put on, in case you’d forgotten.”
Jason stepped firmly onto his mark, glaring at the man. “Not a chance.”
“Ready to go.” Claude moved to her place, looking slightly embarrassed. She adjusted her costume as the stage manager walked away.
Jason snorted. “Didn’t mean to get you into trouble.”
She looked up through her lashes, eyes sparkling, and stuck her tongue out at him. “You’re clearly broken up about it. Are you sure you’re not the reason Roxy got fired?”
“You’re the first assistant I’ve made out with. I swear. Although, if you don’t want me, maybe I could dig up Roxy’s number…”
“Brat.”
He grinned. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d bantered with a woman the way he did with Claude. It filled him with a rare sense of lightness.
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