When Passion Lies: A Shadow Keepers Novel (13 page)

“Of course, but, sir, our cellphone encryption’s been compromised.”

Lihter’s brows rose. “Has it?”

Rico nodded toward the landline. “That’s the word from your guy in the Alliance.”

A frustrating reality, but hardly crippling. “Make sure everyone on the team knows not to use cellular communications. Hard lines only. They disobey, they die. This operation is too important to compromise.”

“Yes, sir. Absolutely.”

Lihter nodded in dismissal, then moved toward the airtight chamber, with its two-foot-thick Plexiglas walls. A simple folding chair sat in front of it, and he took a seat. He didn’t care how long he had to wait. He would be the first thing she saw when she awoke.

And once she did, he would tell the girl all about the wonderful plans he had in store for her.

Caris’s scent lingered in Tiberius’s office, putting him on edge, getting into his thoughts. His blood.

With considerable effort, he turned his focus to tracking down the kidnapped girl. He’d made a promise to Reinholt to help his daughter, and it was a promise Tiberius intended to keep.

He dug into the work and slowly Caris faded from his mind, replaced with notes about contacts, leads, anyone who might have known Reinholt or the girl.

One of the few solid pieces of information that Reinholt had provided was that the girl was a vampire, a fact that had raised Tiberius’s brow.

“I know,” Reinholt had said when they’d talked over the phone. “It is most unusual. But you see, it is for this reason I come to you. Unlike many of my kind, I do not distrust the vampires. And,” he added, “I do not believe that you will allow one of your kind to be taken by Lihter. Not if you can do anything to help it. Please, sir. Please help my Naomi.”

“How is it that you are a weren and she is not?”

He hesitated, then drew in a breath. “Her mother, she was human. We fell in love, we had a child.”

“And the child was not weren?”

“It … it … doesn’t always transfer. She was human, beautiful and vibrant.”

“And then she was turned.”

This time the pause was so long Tiberius feared the connection had been lost. “Yes.”

“And what good would the girl be to Lihter?”

“I—I—Please, please you must find her. He … he took her to get to me. Because I went away. But I didn’t know. I didn’t know what he wanted.”

“What do you mean?”

He could hear Reinholt breathing softly. “I heard rumors that Lihter had engaged a Truth Teller. Everyone with access to the château would be tested. For loyalty. I ran.”

“You’ve been selling Lihter’s secrets?”

“No! No! I’ve been nothing but loyal. I mind my own business. But there are things that I have in my head. Things I don’t want to share.”

“And you thought a Truth Teller would reveal those things?”

“Undoubtedly. And so I left. I never thought Lihter would care. I was under no suspicion. I didn’t run, but neither did I advertise where I went. And when he left messages for me to return to Paris, I ignored them.”

“And so he took Naomi to get your attention.”

“Yes. Yes, please, you must help me.”

Tiberius held the phone, silently considering the weren’s words. He believed that Reinholt was afraid for his daughter. He believed that Reinholt had left to avoid the Truth Teller. But that wasn’t the full story. There were things left unsaid and truths twisted, and it was in the silence that the real story lay. “Why have you not told me everything?”

Reinholt gasped. “I—please. There are … things you should know. And when we meet, I will tell you everything.
I swear upon my life that you will know the truth, but please, please do not make me speak of it now. Not when there may be other ears.”

Tiberius hesitated. The fear in Reinholt’s voice was so real he could almost catch the scent of it even across the telephone line. But was it fear for his daughter, or fear of Lihter, the werewolf against whom Reinholt was prepared to turn?

“We will meet,” Tiberius said. “In case you are right about other ears, we shall set the time and place later. I’ll be in touch. Meanwhile, tell me what you can about your daughter’s disappearance. Perhaps by the time we meet I’ll have news.”

“Then you will help me?” His voice shook with relief.

“I will help your daughter.”

“Thank you, thank you.”

“Where was she taken?”

“Frankfurt. She was on her way to Austria to visit me. I have—I
had
—a safe house there. She called me from the Zeil,” he said, referring to Frankfurt’s main shopping district. “She told me she intended to shop before catching her train—my Naomi loves to shop.”

“What makes you think that Lihter took her?”

“Again, that part must be told in person. But rest assured that I am certain.”

It had been an unsatisfactory answer, but though Tiberius tried to pry more information free, Reinholt refused to talk. Tiberius didn’t go so far as to refuse to help—he believed the girl was truly in danger—but now he wished that he had threatened. He might know more. Because right now he was starting from nothing except Frankfurt, the knowledge that the girl was a power
shopper, and a photo that Reinholt had forwarded by text message.

Damn.

He circulated the photo to his contacts in Frankfurt but decided against formally calling in the PEC to search for the missing girl. Reinholt had been prepared to provide information of a political nature. Best to consider this an Alliance matter, and a vampire matter at that. The PEC agents were undoubtedly competent, but there were some things that were so politically charged that they were best investigated in-house.

He frowned, thinking of Caris. He’d ordered Luke to initiate a task force primarily to protect her. But the truth was he’d have done the same thing no matter who Reinholt’s assassin had been.

Caris
. He’d let his thoughts shift back to her, and now she dominated his mind once again.
Dammit
.

His phone buzzed, a welcome interruption, and Mrs. Todd’s voice filled the room. “It’s Mr. Slater, sir. He said it’s important.”

“Done,” Bael Slater said as soon as Tiberius took the call.

“I had no doubt. You could have waited to inform me in person.”

“There’s more. I intercepted a call. Bovil’s cellphone was ringing, and it seemed rude not to answer—”

“Tell me.”

“Apparently Lihter’s on the para-daemons’ radar, too. Couldn’t tell who was speaking, and the damn ID and GPS were blocked, but the message was clear enough. He’s learned that Lihter’s planning something. Something big.”

“That fits,” Tiberius said. Reinholt must have gotten wind as well, and was willing to trade Lihter’s plans for his daughter’s safety. “Could you get any details?”

“I tried. Call went dead. I have to assume I did a less-than-stellar job of impersonating Bovil.”

Tiberius asked Slater a few more questions, then ended the call, his mind full of strategy and theory. The urgency had just ramped up.

He stood, telling himself that he was going to Caris now because time was of the essence. Lihter was up to something. The election was in less than ten days. And the girl could be in grave danger.

All valid reasons, but none surpassed the basic, underlying truth: He simply wanted to see her again, and he’d held back for as long as he could.

When he found Caris, she was standing at the window beside the blue room’s massive oak desk, looking out at the sky through the protective glass. He paused, watching. She wore a black leather jacket and simple jeans, except that there was nothing simple about the way they hugged her curves. Curves that he had once known intimately and could still recall the feel of.

He slipped his hands into the pockets of his own slacks, warding off the memories—of her, of his past. He realized with a start that he was seeing the woman, not the weren, not the hybrid.

He stood silently, knowing he should walk forward, say something, announce his presence to the room. But although he hated to admit it even to himself, he didn’t want this moment to shatter. So instead, he simply watched. Her pale hand, pressed against the glass. Her raven hair gleaming.

She stood perfectly still except for her chest, rising and falling. He wondered vaguely if she had to breathe now, then cursed the question, which only reminded him that more separated them than the expanse of room. So much more.

“If you have something to say, then say it.” She spoke to the window, not bothering to turn around. “Otherwise, I’m anxious to get out of here.”

“I told you, I need your help with something. I need your access to the weren world.”

“Is that a fact? And you just expect me to help you for nothing? I thought you knew me better.” She turned. A muscle twitched in her cheek, but she held steady, the moment ripe between them, and for that instant he could almost—almost—forget.

She looked away, and the moment shattered.

“For nothing?” he said. “I’d say not. You killed my informant, Caris. You owe me.”

This time when she turned back, her eyes were blazing. “You know what, Tiberius? Fuck you. Oh, wait. I don’t do that anymore. And that means I also don’t owe you anything. Not help, not explanations, not anything.”

“I’m afraid I disagree on that point.”

She stood firm. “Yeah, I thought you might. So I’ve been thinking about that. You want my help? Fine. But you have to do something for me.”

His brow lifted. “I think you may be confused about who owes whom.”

“I assure you I’m not.”

“What do you want, Caris?” Better to just satisfy her whim and get on with it.

“I want you to appoint Gunnolf the governor of the Scottish territory. Transfer your authority to him.”

It took great effort for him not to laugh out loud. “That’s never going to happen.”

“Then I guess we’ve reached an impasse.”

For the moment at least, he had to agree. Time to try a different tack. “The Alliance is taking over the murder investigation, Caris.”

She looked up, her expression alarmed.

“In light of Reinholt’s controversial political positions, I’ve arranged for a task force to be created and jurisdiction to be transferred from Division 12 to the Alliance.”

“You son of a bitch. How can you—”

“A task force that will not—I repeat
not
—find any connection to you. A task force that, frankly, will ultimately stall out.”

She stared at him, her face blank, her thoughts hidden behind a well-schooled facade. The corner of her eye crinkled, as if something unpleasant was buzzing nearby. “Why would you do that?” Her voice was low, measured. And it was dangerous.

“You know why.”

She shook her head. “No.”

“I made a promise, and I will see it through.”

“I release you from your promise.”

“Your father tried that once. I turned him down as well. The promise wasn’t made to you, and I will honor my word to Horatius.”

“I don’t want you looking over my shoulder. I don’t want you in my life. You gave up that right when you banished me.”

He stiffened, his words measured. “To be in your life, yes. To protect it, never.”

“You swore to protect my family from harm. Not from the consequences of our own actions.”