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They headed back to Marq’s apartment, hand in hand. Jude
flicked on his phone, scrolling past ten separate text messages from Marq,
asking where he was. He typed a one-handed reply.

Just got back. Everything okay?

There was no answer.

When he and Indigo reached the apartment, it was empty. It
was Saturday night, so Jude assumed that Marq was out partying. They kicked off
their snowy shoes into a pile in the corner before running, laughing, to Jude’s
room.

Indigo moved toward him the moment they were inside. Her
cheeks and chin were cold, but her lips were warm as she kissed him. She tugged
at his shirt, pulling impatiently until he shrugged it off. Jude broke the kiss
to pull her sweater and bra away, his mouth falling back to her skin once it
was bare.

He wanted to kiss her everywhere, his fingers roving where
his mouth couldn’t be. Indigo undid his belt, pulling it with a snap from his
belt loops and throwing it to the floor. Next was the button of his pants; Jude
groaned as her fingers brushed below the waistband, his body crackling with
electricity wherever she touched him. His pants slid down to pool on the floor,
his boxers following, but Jude caught her wrists before Indigo could touch him,
leading her to the bed instead.

She slipped out of her jeans and panties, kicking off her
socks and laying down on the duvet. Just the sight of her was enough to leave
him groaning, the thought of being with her again almost too much to manage.
Indigo’d always been beautiful, but today she’d let him follow her into her
past, and that added another layer to what he knew of her. Vulnerability, along
with the long limbs and high breasts.

“You’re beautiful,” he murmured.

Jude grabbed a condom from his sock drawer and lay down
alongside her. He kissed her hard, his tongue exploring her mouth while his
hands traced over her body, memorizing her curves by feel. His fingers teased,
drifting lazily over some spots, pinching others, her gasps and sighs guiding
his exploration. When Indigo’s pants had become moans, Jude broke the kiss to
suck and nip his way to her breasts.  

His tongue swirled over one peak, before taking it into his
mouth and suckling hard. Indigo gasped and he moved to the other. As her pants
grew impatient, his tongue slid along her ribs, then moved lower. He nestled
between her thighs, hitching one leg over his shoulder to give himself room.
Indigo was squirming underneath him, her fingers tight in his hair. He tasted
her, salt-sweet and warm, his tongue lapping in gentle circles, paced by her
cries. He could feel her tensing under him, hips bucking. When Jude glanced up,
she had one hand fisted in the sheets, the other painfully tight where she held
his hair.

“Please,” she gasped, her mouth a pink ‘o’ of desire.

Jude moved up on top of her, feeling her slide her legs
around his hips, urging him nearer. He gasped as he bumped up against her wet
heat, his body jumping from readiness to a sudden, desperate need for release,
in a single heartbeat. Indigo wrapped her hands over his shoulders, her mouth
moving against his neck, nails scoring the skin of his back. She began to rock
and move underneath him, desire making her caresses rough and reckless. He
groaned as her hips shifted and he slid barely inside. Jude lifted his head,
holding her gaze as he leaned forward, burying himself fully in her.

She gasped, lashes fluttering closed as he began to move.
Groaning with the onslaught of sensation, Jude fought for control. He could
feel her tightening around him with each thrust, small pants rising to moans as
he set a gruelling pace. He dropped his hand down, pushing between their bodies
until he could touch her. Her breath hitched as he hit the right spot, the
sound of her cries almost pushing him over the edge. Indigo’s legs jerked where
they wrapped him, her body seeming to tighten down even further.

“Oh God, Jude!” she panted. “Please!”

He pushed harder, determined to please her. Suddenly Indigo
cried out, her back arching, a series of internal shudders marking her climax.
Jude’s breath caught in his throat, the sensation gripping him and throwing him
over the abyss with her. He thrust a few last times, ecstasy spiralling down
into a moment so bright he couldn’t think. With a final groan, he collapsed on
top of her, panting against her neck. Indigo was soft and liquid in his arms,
their bodies tangled together. There was no beginning and end to each other,
just one.

With a sigh, Jude slid away, pulling her into the circle of
his arms. There was an endless list of things he
should
be doing, but right
now, he just wanted to let this moment last a little longer. He reached out,
brushing a spray of hair off her cheek, and she moved into the motion, rather
than away.

“I love you, Indigo,” Jude sighed.

“Love you too.”

Jude smiled, pressing a kiss to her forehead. Indigo’s eyes
drooped slowly, breath slowing. When she seemed almost asleep, Jude rolled
over, meaning to get up and double check that he’d locked the front door, but
Indigo jerked awake. She grabbed his hand as he sat up.

“Stay,” she whispered.

Jude lay back down, pulling her into his arms, his chest
tight with emotion.

“Go back to sleep,” he whispered. “I’m not going anywhere.”

: : :
: : : : : : :

Jude was sound asleep when Marq texted again. Jude lifted
his head, squinting bleary-eyed, at the phone’s display.

Jude, where are you? I need to talk!

Jude fumbled his way to the side of the bed, concern rising.
Marq hardly ever called him by his first name, except if he was worried or in
trouble. Junior year of college, Marq had texted ‘Jude’ from the back of a
police cruiser. A three a.m. text on a Sunday morning, after a day of panicked
messages did
not
reassure him. He slid away from Indigo’s side, careful
not to waken her. He slipped on his pants and a shirt, tiptoeing out of the
bedroom, before tapping out a reply.

Got your texts today, but I couldn’t answer them. Sorry,
man. You okay?

Marq’s reply was impossibly fast.

No. We need to talk NOW!

Jude’s eyes widened. He glanced at the closed door of the
bedroom, then back at his phone.

Where are you?

He was almost certain that the police would be involved. His
mind was shuffling through details – how fast he could access money for bail on
a Sunday, and if the lawyer who defended Marq in college would be available –
when the next text appeared.

My car’s waiting on the street. Hurry up!

Jude stood for a moment, undecided. Whatever it was, it had
to be important, but something about it was niggling at the back of Jude’s
mind, telling him to wake Indigo. Problem was, this was Marq. He and Indigo didn’t
get along at the best of times.

Jude lifted up his phone, answering.

Hold on. I’ll be down in a sec.

Jude turned to look around the kitchen. Marq had a yellow
sticky note pad by the phone with
“call Keith back”
scribbled on the
top. Jude pulled it off, throwing it into the garbage, before grabbing a pen.

Indigo,

Something’s up with Marq. Had to run out for a sec.

Sorry! Back as soon as I can.

Jude

He had made it to the foyer when he suddenly turned back
around. He walked back to the counter, adding one last item to the bottom of
the note.

P.S. I love you.

He stuck the yellow sticky on the apartment door and closed
it quietly behind him. In less than five minutes he was standing outside the
building, looking up and down the snow-covered road, searching for Marq’s car.
At the far end of the street a vehicle was idling, a pair of headlights
blinding Jude with their intensity. He walked away from the entrance of the
apartment, squinting into the light. It
might
be Marq’s car, but Jude
couldn’t tell.

“C’mon, Marq,” Jude muttered, his teeth beginning to
chatter. “Where
are
you?”

He took a few steps more, his feet leading him toward the
gaping mouth of an alley. From inside the darkness, the sound of a single
footstep broke the silence.

Jude spun around, heart pounding. His eyes widened in horror
at what he saw. A few feet away from him stood Patel, his gun trained on Jude’s
chest. His mind began to scramble, and then completely went silent.

There was nowhere to run.

Patel smiled, his teeth a white gleam in the shadows.

“Game’s over, Mr. Alden.”

Indigo walked down the hallway of the Rehabilitation Center,
icy fingers buried deep in her pockets. It was two days before Christmas, and
the ward, a transitional care ward attached to the hospital, was practically
bare. She glanced at the drooping ornaments, salvaged from holiday cast-offs,
decorating the occasional door; their colors obscene against the dull beige of
the rest of the building. Indigo peeked down one hallway – a dead end, blocked
by a bucket and a mop – and then the other. Her nose flared at the antiseptic
smell, stomach turning, and she began to walk again.

She didn’t like hospitals; they reminded her too much of her
grandfather’s last days. She’d been ten when he’d had his second, and last,
stroke. Sherry and Indigo had come home in time to visit him. The smells and
sounds took her back to that day: his face grey-tinged on the pillow.

“There’s nothing they can do now, Indie Baby. It’s only a
matter of time.”

She walked faster, forcing her mind to the present. Up ahead
was the nurses’ station, a heavy-set woman with glasses behind the desk. She
glanced up at the sound of Indigo’s footsteps. She had the pug-faced look of a
bully, her arms moving to her hips as Indigo arrived.

“It’s a holiday,” the woman said sharply. “Visiting hours
ended at four instead of at seven.”

Indigo forced a bright smile – that’s what people like this
wanted: for the world to be something it wasn’t – and walked up to the counter.

“I’m so sorry for being late,” she said. “I was volunteering
at the homeless shelter, and I couldn’t get out until now.”

It was a lie, of course. The real reason was that Indigo had
delayed coming until the last second, but the woman’s face softened all the
same.

“I knew the visiting hours had changed,” Indigo said
bashfully, noting the holly wreath pin on the nurse’s scrubs, “but seeing how
it was Christmas and all, I didn’t think I should leave them short-handed.”

“Oh my!” the nurse murmured. “Now that’s real good of you,
honey.”

Indigo nodded, dropping her gaze in mock humility. She was
almost in.

“And I know it’s past hours, but I was hoping I could just
come in for a few minutes. I have a…” She paused, wondering what lie would
cause the least amount of trouble. “… a
friend
here and I thought he
could use a visit.” Her lashes fluttered downward in the perfect pretence of
embarrassment. “It’s sort of a surprise, you know.”

The nurse’s face brightened and she reached out, patting
Indigo’s arm.

“Of course you can go on in,” she clucked. “But is your
friend an outpatient, or in the ward? Outpatients have all gone home by now.”

“He hasn’t been released yet,” Indigo answered, hoping she
was right. “He’s full time, as far as I know.”

“Well, that’s easy enough to find out,” the nurse answered
brightly. “Now, what’s this friend’s name?”

Indigo smiled.

“Elliot Baird.”

: : :
: : : : : : :

Fran waited for the last of Sanger’s team to leave before
she let her temper come to the surface. She strode forward, slapping the notes
on the desk and spinning back around.

“You pull him now,” Fran sneered. “You’re going to lose your
hold on King!”

Agent Sanger sighed, running a hand over the back of his
neck. They’d found another body in the river this morning: a male, badly
burned, missing all his teeth and both hands. They DNA evidence had come back
from the lab, but the only thing they knew for certain was that it
wasn’t
Marq Lopez.

“Commissioner,” Sanger said tiredly, “while I understand
your focus on taking Fischer and his empire down, I need to remind you that
every day we delay, more people are in danger.”

Her jaw clenched, lips pursing into a narrow line of red.
She began pacing the office, her hands slashing through the air as she talked.

“And what would you have me do?” she snapped. “Have my agent
break cover?”

“Given the body count,” he said, frowning, “we at least need
to discuss it. The intel’s improving, but every day that we delay, the risk to
our men in the field rises.”  

“King’s worried,” Fran hissed. “He’s attacking at will.” She
turned around, her fingers jabbing at Sanger in accusation. “He hacked into
my
house! Got into
my life!”

Sanger’s expression shifted, the dogged patience replaced by
worry.

“He’s trying to get to you, Fran. It’s too close to home,
and with all due respect, Commissioner, I think you’re letting this become
personal.” Fran began walking again, the circles growing tighter and tighter as
she paced. “Now I don’t
want
to go over your head,” Sanger said, “but I
have the authority to do it if I need to.”

She stopped next to him, eyes bright.

“Don’t!” she snarled. “That’d be a deadly mistake!”

“We need to pull our agents in,” Sanger insisted. “We have
enough evidence to bring down ‘King’ Fischer.”

“Maybe,” Fran snarled, “but not to put him away forever.”
She crossed her arms on her chest, her eyes narrowing. “Let me tell you this,
Agent Sanger. If you start this fight, you’ve got to be ready to end it.”

“People are
dying
, Commissioner.”

“Because King is killing them!” she barked. “What we’re
doing, right now, is the only way to stop it, and that means holding our
course!”