Chapter Three
Seb was very good at his job, having trained to the breaking point in all aspects, including observing without being obvious. No one knew he was watching the graceful sway of Brie Lark’s hips as she angrily huffed out.
He’d been aware of her when she first started working here and sometimes caught an intriguing whiff of her light, citrusy scent in the air. When he’d decided he needed her help infiltrating Meiers Corners, he’d been looking forward to getting to know her better.
She obviously didn’t feel the same way. In fact, he got the idea she didn’t want to work with him.
That would have been hurtful, if he’d had a heart left to hurt.
Instead, he brushed it off. He didn’t need a relationship, not even a physical one. He could keep it all professional. Distant, even.
Oh yeah, he knew distant. Just let her try to be as distant as him.
…
I dashed home to my cramped little efficiency in New Jersey, showered, and packed. I was about to call for a cab when my phone started ringing. Startled, I grabbed it. “Hello?”
“I’m here.”
Shock lit me in tiny explosions down my body, brain, chest, belly, and sex. That midnight moonshine voice could vibrate a string bass from a hundred paces.
Damn it, this did not bode well for me keeping my hands to myself. If only I could’ve been sure Rikare wasn’t a vamp.
“What do you want?” I asked.
“I have a cab. I thought you’d appreciate a ride to the airport.”
The word “ride” slid through me with a long shiver of lust. Yeah, what was so bad about a spectacular orgasm or two?
I grabbed the small locket at my throat. Inside were my grandparents’ pictures, one on each side. When the locket was closed, they kissed.
Two become one.
I yearned for that kind of love and completion. Sera and Thor looked like that, blissfully happy together. So when Derek drove his rig into town, I was thrilled to take him as my lover.
Not knowing there was a vast chasm between “lover” and “mate.”
“Duh-wreck,” the nickname Sera had given him, described our whole relationship.
I couldn’t repeat that mistake, no matter how strong my attraction to Seb Rikare. Best get that clear up front.
“Just because you’re posing as my boyfriend, don’t get any romantic ideas.” Smooth, Brie. Telling him or you?
“Romantic?” he blew out. “Look, I get it that you don’t like me. I don’t know why, but I hear it loud and clear. You can’t let it get in the way. This murder investigation is more important than either of us.”
Ouch.
In case that slap hadn’t gotten across the all-work, no-play message, the instant I slid into the taxi, he handed me a thick set of stapled sheets. It set the tone.
“I made you a few instructions,” he began.
“A few?” I thumped the stack on the seat between us. It made a booming thud, like a packet of bricks. I bared teeth, the closest my annoyance with him would let me get to a smile. “This would take me a week to read.”
“Fine, I’ll give you the short version. It all boils down to Rule Number One—you will obey me.”
“Yes, sir.” I barely stopped myself from saluting.
Rikare scowled. “I’m the senior field agent, and you will listen and defer to me on all matters, especially those involving your safety.” He pointed at the packet. “Page ten starts what you’ll be doing for this operation. When we get to Meiers Corners, your job is to make me disappear into the crowd.”
“Disappear?” At that, I gaped. “With your looks and height? You’re kidding, right? Even in Hollywood, Angelina Jolie stands out. Sure, the Corners has an abundance of tall, handsome men. You’re still extraordinary.”
“If you play your role well enough,” he shot back, “nobody will think twice about me being in town.”
The whole trip, taxi to the airport, was like that, him building a wall of rules, regs, and citing page numbers between us. Which was good and what I wanted.
Yet, it annoyed me. As he loaded our carry-ons in the plane’s overhead, I eyed his long, strong body.
He was armored in the Full Bureau : a dark two-piece suit, hand-tailored and fitting perfectly across his broad shoulders and cut loose across the chest to hide his shoulder holster, white cotton shirt with threads so fine it had to be Egyptian, discreet dark tie, black leather belt, and glove-soft-looking leather shoes with a thin rubber sole, good for running and kicking and costing a month’s salary—at least, my salary.
I leaned close to him and murmured, “Aren’t you supposed to be undercover? Why are you wearing your suit, anyway? It screams ‘law.’”
He looked down at me with a single raised brow chiding me. “What’s Rule One?”
“Obey you. Which I’m doing. My job is to help you blend in, right? I was just doing my job.”
“It’s amazing how much ‘doing my job’ looks like ‘annoying the senior agent.’”
Damn. He’d seen through me. “A coincidence, I’m sure.”
…
Seb ground his teeth against his irritation—aimed mostly at himself. Yes, while it was obvious Brie was trying to get a rise out of him, she was absolutely right about the suit. He’d been in a hurry to make sure he picked her up on time to remove any excuse for missing the plane. After he’d found his shirt impregnated with the most human smell, his white dress shirt, he’d automatically thrown on the first thing that went with it.
What prep time he had was taken up armoring himself for flying into not one, but two potentially hostile territories. Meiers Corners was part of the Iowa Alliance. O’Hare International Airport was firmly in Chicago territory—run by an obnoxious, greedy vampire he’d known in Egypt as Cleomenes. Seb didn’t think he’d run into the sorry excuse for a vamp, as no one had seen Cleomenes in years. He’d been trounced by a two-hundred-year-old youngster and was reportedly hiding, licking his wounds, letting his corrupt underlings run his territory for him. Still, Seb had gone out of his way to secure his weapons in a gun case that would give the X-ray machines false readings, masking his extralegal blades, larger firearms, and silver bullets.
But those were his problems, and it was rude to take out his frustrations on Brie. As a concession, he moved to one side and gestured her toward the window seat. “You make a valid point about my clothes, though.”
The surprise on her face at his agreement was almost comical. He covered a smile as he shrugged out of his coat.
His smile faded as he stripped off his tie and popped the top couple buttons of his shirt. Like a man coming home after a long day’s work to his loving family.
Brie wouldn’t play the welcoming wife.
Retrieving his messenger bag from the overhead, he carefully folded his coat and tie and slid them inside. “Let’s go over your packet.”
“It’s in my backpack.”
Stifling a sigh, he got that from the overhead, too, and handed it to her. She pulled out the papers, hesitated, then pulled out a sketchpad and pencil case. He’d seen her with the pad before. Must be important to her.
She handed him her pack, and he reloaded everything in the overhead. Sliding into the seat next to hers, he said, “Let’s start with page eight.”
She turned to the page, topped with section header Cover Story. The first point was, The senior agent and civilian adjunct will pose as lovers.
“Lovers.” She snorted. “You don’t know how much trouble that’s going to get us into.”
“Why? Do you have a boyfriend in town who will be jealous?”
“No, only an ex. I’m more worried about the small city full of busybodies.”
Seb only pointed to item two, starting with The adjunct met the senior agent at 26 Federal Plaza, where he is an accountant for another alphabet agency. He double-tapped it with his index finger. “Make sure you memorize this.”
She dutifully read. “I’m guessing the adjunct is me? This is pretty thin. We met, we fell madly in lust, and now we’re taking it to the next level with a week-long getaway?” She rolled her eyes. “Taking it to the next level, ha. Trying to make sex into a real relationship? That’s doomed to fail.”
He pursed his lips in amusement. “So cynical for one so young.”
“Not cynical. Realistic.”
“If your reality is skewed toward pessimism.” When she opened her mouth for a retort, he held up a palm. “I like that.”
Her hand rose to her throat in surprise, touching the small, old-fashioned locket nestled there. It struck him the plain gold chain and simple locket was at odds with the rest of her colorful, brash jewelry.
Then she shook her head, her earrings jangling. At the harsh clang, he pressed his lips together to stop himself from barking at her in annoyance.
By the time the plane landed at O’Hare, it was only a bit after seven thirty p.m. thanks to crossing from Eastern into Central. Seb got Brie’s backpack and his messenger bag from the overhead. As she put away the instruction packet and her art pad, the aisle clogged up with passengers.
He stared at the line of people queuing up to get off the plane. It was all a pain in the ass. If he hadn’t been pretending to be human, he could have used the hidden vampire-only service tunnel all large airports had to go directly from terminal to car without having to deal with sunlight—and to cut out the lines.
But he needed to pass as human, not just with mortals but vampires as well. He joined the end of the line, Brie falling into place behind him. Against his will, warmth suffused him at that. He liked feeling her near him.
As they entered the skybridge, he casually took her arm. The slender muscles beneath his fingers tensed, and she shook him off, snuffing any warm feelings.
Distance, damn it. Caring led to misery. He’d gotten that firsthand.
They collected their luggage in silence. Outside, he flagged a taxi. “Meiers Corners.”
She slid in behind the driver, her shoulders squaring at the name of her hometown. What about it bothered her so? Whatever it was, he’d have to make sure it didn’t impact the case.
Yet, as the cab hurtled along Chicago streets, she got more and more tense. Her trouble wasn’t superficial.
Seb frowned. His investigation was vital, but he didn’t like seeing her suffering. He wished she’d tell him, but that didn’t seem likely.
Oh, hell. He was a detective. When they arrived in Meiers Corners, he’d simply have two mysteries to solve.