Tempting Danger (28 page)

“I thought you’d been taken off the investigation.”

“That’s going to make it tricky.”

“Lily—” He stopped, glanced at the door. Two seconds later, the doorbell rang.

She hadn’t heard anything. Obviously, he had. “You take some getting used to,” she muttered and went to the door.

The peephole showed her Croft’s chocolate face. Great. Should she ask Rule to hide? No, dumb idea. It would be too easy to prove he’d been here all night. It went against the grain to play cover-up, anyway.

She sighed and unlocked the door. “You’re out early.”

“We need to talk to you,” Croft said. Karonski stood behind him, scowling. “May we come in?”

“Why not? There’s coffee.”

Karonski brightened marginally. “With creamer?”

“I’ve got milk.” She stepped aside and let them in.

TWENTY

NEITHER
of the federal agents looked surprised at finding Rule in her living room, half-dressed. Karonski nodded at him. Croft did seem discomfited when he realized there was only one chair.

“You can wrestle for who gets the chair. The yellow pillow’s mine,” Lily told them, retreating to her tiny kitchen. “Let me know who wins.”

No one took the chair. When she came back with four mugs, sugar, and a little glass of milk on a tray, they were sitting around the square coffee table she used as a dining table.

The pair from the FBI looked funny sitting on the floor in their suits. Rule looked bare and quite unbothered by it. He was talking to Karonski. “Surely you can do something.”

Karonski shook his head. “Doesn’t work that way. Not only would the locals resent the hell out of it if we tried to interfere, we don’t—hey, here’s the coffee.”

Lily put the tray on the table. “Help yourselves.” She looked at Rule. “Were you asking them to intervene with the captain for me?”

He shrugged. “Yes.”

“Like he said, it doesn’t work that way.” She went to her oversize chair and retrieved the folders she’d brought home. She brought them with her to the table.

The yellow pillow was next to Rule. She hesitated. Better if she had the table between them. The need to touch him was strong and sneaky. It would be embarrassing if she started groping him or something.

Embarrassing, too, if she asked everyone to move so she didn’t have to sit next to the man she’d woken up beside. She’d just have to watch herself.

She sat tailor-fashion on the pillow. “I assume you want to ask me some questions about the Fuentes investigation, since it relates to yours. This has copies of my reports to date.” She handed Croft a folder. “And this is yours.” The second folder she held out was the one he’d given her. The one about Rule.

Croft and Karonski exchanged a glance. Croft spoke. “We do have some questions, but that isn’t our priority.”

Karonski snorted. “Skip the fancy lead-in. We’re here because we want to recruit you.”

Her jaw dropped.

“We believe your captain made a serious misjudgment,” Croft said with that pleasant smile. “One we hope to take advantage of.”

She shook her head. “Wait a minute. The FBI doesn’t go around recruiting police officers who are neck deep in disciplinary shit. You don’t recruit individuals at all.”

“The FBI as a whole doesn’t, no. We’re MCD. We operate less bureaucratically.”

Karonski had already turned his coffee pale with milk and was busy loading it with sugar. “What the hell. Let’s go ahead and brag. Turner already knows, and she’ll have to.” He leaned forward. “We’re not just Magical Crimes Division, we’re part of a hotshot unit within it. Hush-hush stuff. We’ve got the authority to hire on the spot, and we want you. You’re not an idiot. You know why.”

“Because I’m a sensitive.” It left a sour taste in her mouth. “A touch sensitive.”

“Which makes you one in a million. We need you.”

“Forget it. I don’t out people.”

“We don’t do that,” Croft said. “True, MCD has been responsible for identifying lupi and others in the past, but that’s never been the unit’s job. We’re sent on the unusual cases, the ones where special knowledge or abilities may be needed.”

She glanced at Karonski.

He grinned and added another spoonful of sugar. “Like witchcraft, yeah. With some prep I was able to confirm what you told us about Martin’s murder.” He took a sip of the noxious brew he’d made of his coffee and sighed with contentment. “Sorcery, all right. Nasty business.”

“And you?” She looked at Croft, curious in spite of herself. “I didn’t pick up anything when we shook hands.”

“Not everyone in the unit is Gifted. I’m just an experienced field agent with an unusual hobby. I’ve a rather broad knowledge of magical systems, persons, and creatures.”

Karonski chuckled. “He’s an egghead with a weird obsession. Useful, but weird.”

Rule spoke coldly. “Is that why you won’t help her clear her name? You wish to recruit her. It’s to your advantage if she’s off the force.”

“We can’t help. We could put in a word for her, sure, but Randall has a thing about Feds, and he can’t stand Croft. They bumped heads on another case a few years back. If either of us speaks up for her, it’s likely to backfire.”

“
You
could do more than speak up for her.”

Karonski looked pained. “Persuasion spells are illegal.”

Lily slapped the table. “Hold it. Just hold on, both of you. I do not need anyone fighting my battles for me, and I’m not off the force. Suspended for now, and I may get demoted for unprofessional conduct. But it isn’t likely I’ll be kicked off.”

Croft looked worried. “You may be underestimating your risk. If Captain Randall did tip the killer off about Therese Martin, you’re a major threat to him.”

“I don’t think it’s him. I don’t have any evidence, but I can’t buy it. He’s a
cop
.” She looked at the two skeptical cops listening to her. “Randall doesn’t just do the job, he
is
the job. He couldn’t step outside it enough to set up a murder and a frame. Not for any reason.”

Karonski nodded. “I hear you. But sometimes a cop starts thinking the job is justice. They break rules because their idea of justice is more important than the law.”

“Not Randall.”

He and Croft exchanged one of those looks. Croft spoke. “You’ve worked with the man. Your opinion is part of the picture. But we want more than your opinions. We want you to continue with your investigation—only for us.”

“You mean . . .” Her mouth was suddenly dry. She licked her lips. “You want to recruit me right this minute. Sign me up, and I can keep the investigation. Both of them, really—Fuentes and Martin—since they’re linked.”

“That’s right. You’d be working with Abel and me.”

“Don’t you have to run me? A security check, deep background . . . oh,” she said, reading their faces. “You already have.”

“We haven’t got the deep background check yet,” Croft said. “Just the basics.”

The basics would be enough. Twenty years was a long time, but it had been in the papers. She looked at the two men—one dark, urbane, and smiling, the other rumpled and pushy. They knew, and they weren’t asking questions. That was a mark in their favor.

Karonski was leaning toward her again. She could almost feel him pushing at her, willing her to agree. “We don’t just want you because you’re a sensitive, though God knows that’s important. We need someone who can’t be fooled by magic. Lately there’s been—”

“Abel,” Croft said, giving him a warning look.

Surprisingly, it was Rule who finished Karonski’s sentence. “An increase in the number of magical crimes committed?” he suggested. “More odd reports coming in. Reports of unlikely or inexplicable events.”

Croft gave him a hard look. “What do you know about it?”

“Not enough.
Was
a banshee sighted in Texas?”

The two agents exchanged a glance. “I’ll need to know your source, Turner,” Croft said. “But we can discuss that later.”

Karonski turned back to Lily. “We need you because you’re a sensitive, yeah. But you’re also a cop, a good one. Not many Gifted go into law enforcement. There are still laws on the books in several states prohibiting it, for one thing.”

“Not to mention federal regulations,” Lily said dryly. “Yet here you are.”

“We don’t operate under the same regs as the rest of the Bureau,” Croft said. “That’s one reason we don’t advertise our existence.”

“The point is,” Karonski said, “you’re already trained. We need you on this one because you know the case, the city, the people involved. And you’ve got one hell of an in with the lupus community.” He glanced at Rule and waggled his eyebrows.

“And you don’t have a problem with that?” she demanded. “You come here, find Rule running tame in my place, and you don’t question my involvement with him? My judgment?”

Croft spread his hands. “As I understand it, you had little choice. Which is another reason to consider our offer. You might have some difficulty explaining a necessary association with Turner to your superiors on the police force. We’ll be glad to work around whatever, um, special requirements are necessary.”

Her head swung toward Rule. “You
told
them?”

But he was looking at Croft with that peculiar, threatening stillness. “The existence of the Chosen isn’t known outside the clans.”

Croft met Rule’s eyes, unfazed. “I know people in the clans.”

“Okay, fine.” She pushed to her feet. “You two go ahead and duke it out. I need to think.” She started to pace but reached the wall and stopped, hugging her elbows. She needed space, time, and privacy to consider her options. She wasn’t likely to get any of them.

Lily didn’t hear Rule stand and come toward her; she
felt
him draw near. He stopped behind her and put his arms around her . . . and, with a sigh, she leaned into his body.

“You’re used to dividing your life into tidy compartments marked Professional and Personal,” he murmured. “It’s uncomfortable for you when they slop over into each other.”

She grimaced. “Uncomfortable isn’t the word I’d use.” Almost everything had fallen in the Professional pile the past few years, but he was right. She hated having the job invaded by her personal life. She hated needing his touch, and she hated the FBI agents for being there, because she was beginning to need more than a touch. Yet as the warmth of his body seeped into her, her thoughts began to settle.

Their offer was tempting. Terribly tempting. She could work with people who valued her more unusual abilities instead of having to hide them. She could finish what she’d started with this investigation, and do it wearing a badge. But she’d have to turn her back on Homicide. For years, that had been her one goal: to be good enough to work Homicide.

When she turned back to face the two FBI agents, Rule kept one arm around her waist. She didn’t pull away. “I’d have to resign from the department to accept your offer.”

Croft’s eyebrows rose slightly. “Well, yes.”

“I’m not willing to do that. I’m not sure what I’ll decide, long term, but I don’t want to leave the force right now. Wait,” she said when Karonski started to speak. “I’ve got an offer of my own. I want to stay on the case, and you want me there. Why don’t I give this deal you’re offering a test drive? I could serve as your expert consultant.”

Karonski’s mouth snapped shut. He looked at Croft, the two of them wearing identically surprised expressions. Beside her, Rule chuckled.

“What do you think?” she said. “You’d have to clear it with the department, of course. I’d suggest going up the ladder for that. The captain isn’t likely to approve it.”

A smile spread over Croft’s face. “I think something could be arranged. And it won’t do you any harm to be requested by us while you’re on suspension, will it?”

Karonski nudged his partner. “We’ll get Brooks to call the chief. He’s got the pull, and he talks almost as slick as you do. Time he made himself useful.”

“Brooks?” she said.

“The boss. He runs the unit.”

A flicker of panic touched Lily. She didn’t know anything about this unit of theirs, and she’d just agreed to work for them. No, she corrected—
with
them. Temporarily. It was all temporary.

Rule’s thumb stirred little circles on her waist through the silk of her T-shirt. “It’s getting confusing, isn’t it?” he murmured. “I think I’m now an expert consultant to an expert consultant.”

Heat was pooling in her stomach. Touching him was more distraction than comfort now. She moved away and ran a hand through her hair—still damp from her shower, she noted. She always blew it dry right away, but this morning she hadn’t.

Nothing was the way it was supposed to be. “Why am I doing this? I’m a color-inside-the-lines sort of person. This is so far outside the lines I—” Over by the chair, her purse chimed. Or, rather, the phone in it did. She glanced that way. “Damn.”

“You’re doing it because you want to stop a killer,” Rule said quietly. “And the lines keep moving.”

“Yes.” She met his eyes. “I guess they do.”

Her phone chimed again. “I’d better get that. What do you think?” she asked the others as she crossed the room. “Have we got a deal?”