When Passion Lies: A Shadow Keepers Novel (20 page)

Of course, the last time she’d showered here had been under similar circumstances. Only they hadn’t done it on the gym floor but on the bed. And she hadn’t been alone in the shower, he’d been right there, touching her, caressing her, stroking every inch of her.

Enough already
.

Frustrated, she turned off the water then stepped out of the shower and grabbed a fluffy white towel. She dried off, then wrapped it around her body like a sarong before opening the double doors that led into the suite to let in some cool air. She was about to turn back around and head for the sauna when she froze.
He was standing in the doorway, a dark form shrouded in shadows
.

Her hand clutched at the towel, the reaction instinctive. “I didn’t realize you’d come in,” she said. “I didn’t catch your scent.”

“You weren’t meant to,” Tiberius said. He glanced up, and she followed his gaze, noting the odd, concave vents that lined the office ceiling. “Olfactory filtration. I often allow ambassadors to use this suite. The vents allow me and my men to approach with stealth. We’ve accidentally overheard some very interesting conversations that way.”

“Handy,” she said.

“There’s very little I don’t think of.” He took one step
forward, moving into the light. He’d showered as well, and he looked vibrant and commanding in black slacks and a white starched shirt.

“Yes,” she agreed. “You’re very thorough.”

“Very,” he said. “I’ve come to talk shop. I’ve got a bit of intel we’re going to pursue.”

“Are we?” Her voice sounded overly tight, as did his. Then again, how could it sound natural when they were having to squeeze the words out around the giant elephant standing in the middle of the room? The one both of them were thinking about but neither wanted to mention.

Well, maybe he was right. Better to write off what happened between them as a mistake. A blast for old times’ sake. A huge lapse in judgment.

Now was the time for professionalism. Now was the time to be cool.

From the way his eyes were targeted on the spot where her hand clutched the towel at her breast, though, she had a feeling he hadn’t yet stepped into line with the professionalism plan. Well, fine. He could learn the hard way.

“Well?” she said as she turned her back to him. “The intel?” She headed into the bathroom and dropped the towel in a swift, deliberate movement, fully aware that he could see everything, and at all angles, in the mirrors that covered every wall.

He said nothing, and she smiled. Petty, maybe, but it felt good to torture him. She was suffering, after all. And they were right about misery loving company.

She looked over her shoulder. “Tiberius? Did you fall asleep back there?”

He stepped forward, then leaned against the bathroom
door, watching her boldly. If he was tormented at all, he really wasn’t showing it. “Sorry. I was just enjoying the view.”

She turned away, wanting to hide her scowl—but of course the scowl was broadcast right there for him to see, live and in person on four mirrors along with a series of reflections disappearing back into infinity.

“The intel,” she said. She clipped on her bra, facing him as she did. Cool and casual despite the air between them, thick with the scent of desire. His, and yes, hers, too. She’d caught it—hell, she couldn’t avoid it. But they were both ignoring it.

Casually, she bent to get her jeans. Just another day at the office …

“Lihter’s involved with something big. Something that has the para-daemons scrambling.”

She froze. “That’s the chatter?”

“That’s the word from Slater.”

“Slater?” She heard the pleasure in her voice and took it down a notch. She’d always liked Bael, but now wasn’t the time. “What’s he got?”

“He intercepted a phone call meant for Bovil. His snitch was calling to give Bovil the scoop, but he cut the call short before Slater could get the details.”

“So that’s where you start,” Caris said. “Find the snitch and politely ask him to share his secrets. What did he learn, and how did he learn it.”

“That’s the plan,” Tiberius said. He moved to sit on the bed, facing into the bathroom, where she was running a comb through her hair. The situation was so familiar it made her heart ache, and she turned away, then went to the sink and splashed some water on her face. If she was smart, she’d tell him to get out of her room.
Instead, she turned around and faced him. Just business, though. She could handle just business.

“Have you got a lead on the caller?”

“Not yet,” Tiberius said. “Slater’s on it. Someone close to Bovil. No one else would have his cell number.”

“And Reinholt? You need to talk to his friends. See if you can figure out what he knew about Lihter’s operation.”

“I’m putting Luke on that. And I have a number of agents pulling background.”

“Why not let me take that? I already know a bit about his background.”

“Pass what you can to Luke—”

She shot him a harsh look.

“—Cull anything that relates to you being a hybrid.”

“Wouldn’t it be easier for me to just take point?”

He smiled. “Probably. But I thought that you and I could take a little shopping trip. To Frankfurt.”

“Frankfurt?” she repeated.

“That’s where Naomi was when she was kidnapped. Reinholt’s daughter,” he added, to clarify. “Lihter must have known she’d be there. Chances are he left a clue.”

“And Frankfurt has a high weren population,” she said.

“Lots of werewolves who remain loyal to Gunnolf,” he agreed. “Or so I’ve been told.”

“You want me to use my contacts. See if there’s any buzz about Lihter.”

“I do indeed.”

She nodded slowly. “I can do all that on my own. Move in, move out, report back.”

“You could,” he agreed. “But I want you to do it at my side.”

“You don’t trust me?”

He walked forward and grabbed her arms, the contact ricocheting through her. “I trust you.” He spoke gently, and she watched the way his lips formed the words, hating herself for thinking about those lips doing more than simply speaking.

“I do trust you,” he repeated. “I want you at my side.”

“Oh.” Her head was spinning from his words as much as from the feel of his hands on her bare skin. The heat seemed to bubble up between them, a heat that had nothing to do with the steam that still lingered in the room.

No
.

She shook free of his grasp and hurried into her shirt, grateful for the time it covered her face, even if she could only claim a few seconds as her own.

“I don’t think that’s a very good idea,” she said when she’d slipped her head through the top of the T-shirt. She didn’t look at him, though. And even she wasn’t sure if she meant traveling to Frankfurt with him or something entirely different.

“Probably not,” he said. “But that’s the way we’re going to play it.” He looked hard at her. “Are you going to fight me on this?”

She squared her shoulders. “This isn’t—this doesn’t change anything. About what I said in the gym, I mean.” That had been a mistake. She was certain of it. But unless he was on board, she feared it was a mistake she would repeat.

He nodded, slowly and thoughtfully, and she felt an unwelcome ribbon of disappointment curl in her stomach. “I understand,” he said. He moved to the doorway.
He stopped at the threshold and looked back at her. “Caris—”

“Yes?”

A pause, so long she thought she would drown in it.

“Get your things together,” he said. “And meet me in the hangar. We leave in one hour.”

And then he was gone, and she was left staring after him.

It wasn’t what he’d intended to say, she was certain of that. But that was okay. She was here. She was working with him. And although it hadn’t disappeared, the pain in her heart had lifted just a little.

Luke slid his cellphone back onto the bedside table and pulled Sara close. The windows were closed and the blinds drawn against the last bit of California sun. Outside, the Pacific surf pounded, and he could hear the pulse of the waves in the otherwise quiet house.

Sara sighed and kissed his chest, then lifted her head to look at him. “Let me guess,” she said. “You’ve got to run off on some wildly exotic mission.”

He chuckled. “I’m not sure how exotic, but yes, I have things to do.”

“But Tiberius just sent you home.” There was both question and accusation in her tone. “We should just sneak off like Petra and Nick did.”

Luke laughed. “They didn’t sneak,” he said. Petra and Nick had gone on a tour of the world, traveling in crowded planes and trains, rubbing shoulders with the masses. Formerly cursed to not be able to touch, Petra was now having the time of her life, at least according to Nick’s emails. “Nick planned it all out, and Tiberius knows exactly where he is if something comes up.”

Sara made a face. “I just had the bad luck to fall in love with the one of Tiberius’s men who gets all the calls.”

“Unfortunate for you,” he said, pulling her into a kiss, one that she returned with equal enthusiasm.

“At least he sent you home for a little while.” Her
smile was small, but genuine. “You’ve been through so much lately.” She pressed a hand to his cheek. “I miss you.”

He covered her hand with his. “The Alliance will soon pick a new chairman, and these tasks will be over.” He’d been quite busy lately following up on intelligence reports, meeting with various lieutenants to the other representatives, attempting to gauge if their leaders were being honest with Tiberius about the way they intended to vote. It was the business of politics. And while he was much more comfortable with a blade than with diplomacy, he had to admit that he was finding this foray into the political arena invigorating. And he was certain that Sara appreciated the fact that his missions lately tended toward the gathering of information, not political assassinations.

“And then it’s back to business as usual,” she said, as if reading his thoughts.

“It is,” he said. He felt the familiar tightening in his gut. Sara knew better than anyone his role in the Alliance. He often stepped in where the system failed. Taking out killers that, for whatever reason, the PEC was unable to prosecute. And, yes, taking out some that the PEC never even got wind of, dangerous shadowers with political ambitions. If Tiberius ordered it, Luke did the job.

As a prosecutor, Sara stood firmly on the side of the system, and the scent of vigilantism that covered his work hadn’t sat well with her. Not at first. Not when they’d fallen in love.

She accepted what he did because she loved him, and because she’d realized that the world isn’t painted in
black and white. She understood now. But that didn’t mean she liked it.

He waited for her to slip out of bed and pull on a robe, a signal that the conversation disturbed her. She didn’t, though. Instead, she slid closer to him, then pressed her cheek against his chest. He relaxed, his body losing the tension he hadn’t even realized had built during the moment. She was his heart, his soul. And yet he still feared that this was the issue that would crack the love that bonded them together. Today, at least, that fear was unfounded.

“So what do you need to do?”

“Slater intercepted a call. The para-daemons got wind of something big that Lihter’s up to.”

“What?”

“That’s what we’re hoping to find out. Tiberius assumes it’s the same thing that Reinholt was going to tell him about.”

“But Reinholt’s dead.”

“With any luck, I’ll find some indication at his house or learn something relevant when I talk to his friends.”

She sat up to face him better, holding the sheet over her bare breasts. A good idea, as otherwise he’d be too distracted to hold an intelligent conversation. “Sounds like a long shot.”

“It is. But it’s necessary. Caris killed Reinholt. We have to figure out what he knew somehow, and this new information from Slater makes it more urgent.”

“I assume Slater’s going to talk with the para-daemons?”

“You assume right. And Tiberius and Caris are going to try to track down the kidnapped girl. They know she was taken from Frankfurt.”

“He’s working with Caris?” She sounded alarmed. “She was with Gunnolf for twenty years, wasn’t she?”