Master (An Impossible Novel) (Impossible #6) (3 page)

“You didn’t answer me,” Reed admonished.  “What note?”

“I’ll tell you about it later,” I deflected.  I
so
wasn’t ready for another man to go all alpha protective on me in the space of half an hour.  Their concern only made it that much more difficult to mask my fear.  “Let’s get out of here before the explosion, okay?”  I could already hear Dex’s furious voice floating through the glass wall of Frank’s office.  My pace quickened.

I practically rocked back and forth on the balls of my feet on the long elevator ride down to the parking garage.  I couldn’t get out of there fast enough.  If Dex decided to come back to argue more, Reed might end up with a black eye.  My partner was fierce, but I had never seen him turn this side of himself against another agent.  He must really be upset about losing me to act so uncharacteristically vicious.

I suddenly felt guilty for my moment of excitement at Reed’s proximity.  It felt like a betrayal.  I edged away from him and his nearly irresistible magnetism as soon as we exited the elevator.  His scent – rich and salty, like masculine musk caught on a tropical ocean breeze – filled the small space.  It was as tempting to breathe in as it was to drown in his dark eyes.  Everything about the man exuded sexuality.  I wondered if everyone could see it, or if it just affected me in particular.  Glancing over at his perfect profile, I decided any woman would swoon over him.

Pull yourself together, Byrd.

I had a sadistic serial killer to catch.  I most certainly didn’t have the time or brain power to waste ogling my new partner.  It was a disservice to the women who had suffered at The Mentor’s hands.  He might be torturing some poor woman right now, and there was nothing I could do to stop him.  Not yet.

That thought helped me gather my resolve.  How could I lust after a near-stranger – and a coworker, no less – when the faceless woman might be desperately hoping for me to come to her rescue?  My sexual interest in Reed was effectively doused.

My usual calm didn’t return until I was in my car and pulling away from the potential disaster that was occurring in my boss’ office, fourteen floors above the garage.  Then Reed went and obliterated it again.

“So why was I brought in on this case?”  He sounded genuinely confused.

I cut my eyes over to him where he sat in the passenger seat.  We had already been over this.  “I thought Frank and Kennedy discussed this with you.  You’re…”  I stumbled over the words.  Knowing them and saying them aloud in a matter-of-fact tone were completely different things.  “You’re in the BDSM lifestyle, and they thought it would be helpful to have you in the Chicago office.”

Reed still appeared puzzled.  “But you have Dex here.  Why would you need me?”

“What do you mean?  What does Dex have to do with this?”

“He’s a Dom.”

I blinked.  “What?”

“A Dominant,” Reed explained.

“I know what a Dom is.  I’ve been researching for this case.  But you don’t know what you’re talking about.  Dex isn’t involved with that.  I would know.”  I shuddered at the thought of my friend being into BDSM.

“What was that?”  Reed asked sharply.

“What was what?”

“
That look of disgust.  Does the idea of Dex being in the lifestyle bother you?”

I shook my head.  “You’re wrong about that.  Dex would never hurt a woman.”

“And you think I would?”  The easygoing man who had so coolly met Dex’s challenge was suddenly coldly furious.  “Is that what you think of me?  That I abuse women?”

“Of course not!”
  It had never even crossed my mind that Reed would be capable of such a thing.  But that’s what BDSM was about…

“You’re lying.  You think I’m like Carl Martel.  You think I’m like The Mentor.  Don’t you?”

“No!”

“Then why does the idea of Dex being a Dom bother you?”  He demanded.

“It’s just…  I didn’t mind the idea of BDSM,” I confessed.  “But then I talked to Lydia Chase.  I saw the photos of the marks Martel left on her…”  My stomach turned at the memory of the lacerations left by the whip, of the dead look in Lydia’s eyes when she was first found by Agent Smith James in New York.  Martel had chosen her because of her interest in BDSM.  All of that had happened to her because she liked pain with sex.

“And you think Martel was a Dominant?”

“No!”  I insisted again.  Reed was backing me into a corner.  It was so much easier to be repulsed by what had happened to Lydia than facing my own interest in being tied down during sex.  “I know he was a sick psychopath.  I don’t think you’re like him at all.”

“Then why does the idea of Dex being a Dom bother you?”  He prompted again.

Because I can’t reconcile the man I care about so deeply with the harsh discipline of BDSM.  Especially not when it makes me hot just thinking about it.

I knew my pale skin had turned bright red with my blush.  “It just does,” I replied lamely.

“You’re interested in BDSM.”  Reed’s cool conclusion made my stomach drop.

“I am not!”  My denial sounded desperate in my own ears.

“Don’t do that.”

“Do what?”

“Lie to me.  I won’t tolerate it.”

“You won’t
tolerate
it?”  I had gone from desperate to indignant.  Again, I found myself feeling like a child.  The man was throwing me for a loop.

“No.  I won’t.  You’re lying to me, and you’re lying to yourself.  We’re partners, and we have to be completely honest with one another.  I have to know I can trust you.”

My cheeks flamed impossibly hotter.  Reed had effectively chastised me.  Of course he needed to trust me.  He wasn’t dressing me down to force me to accept my secret desires; he was ensuring I would have his back if shit hit the fan.

I took in a deep breath and blew it out slowly.  “You can trust me.  I promise.”

He nodded.  “Good.  Then you’ll tell me about this note now.”  It wasn’t a question.

“That has nothing to do with The Mentor case.  It’s private.”  I wasn’t ready to talk to
Reed about the threat.  The sexual connotations of the note and the words about making me scream paralleled too closely with our tense discussion of my discomfort about BDSM.  I wasn’t ready to divulge its contents to my new partner.

“It’s not private.  Not from me.”

“Why?”  I snapped, irritated.  “Because you’re a Dom, you think you have the right to bully me about everything in my life?”

“No.  I have a right to know if you’re in danger because I’m your partner.  If you’re in the line of fire, then I am, too.”

Again, he was so reasonable.  I was making this all about me.  I was making this all about
sex
.  Yes, sexual abuse was at the heart of this investigation, as was BDSM, but that didn’t mean that all of Reed’s comments were about my personal sexuality.  He had every right to know if there was a threat lurking behind me.  He was right; it would put him in danger, too.

“Okay,” I allowed.  “I received a note today. 
A threat.  Well, Dex and Frank are convinced it’s a threat.  I think it’s mislabeled evidence from one of my cases.”

“You’re
lying again, Katie.”  Reed’s voice was quiet, a gentle admonition.  “Tell me what the note said.”

“It said…”  I swallowed.  “It said someone’s watching me.  He wants to hurt me.  He…  He said he wants to make me
his.
”

But I do want to make you scream.  I want to make you mine.  Come and find me.  Come to me, pet. 
I told Reed the general gist of the note, but every vile word was burned into my brain.  I didn’t think I would ever be able to get them out.

Chapter 3

I was trembling by the time I
finished telling him the contents of the note.  Somehow, admitting them aloud made the threat more real.  The disgusting words hung in the air between us for a moment, tainting the space around me.  I chanced a glance over at Reed.  He was stiff with suppressed anger.

“Please, don’t.”  I had to cut him off before he could start.  “Don’t go all alpha-protective on me.  I’ve had enough of that from Dex and Frank.  I can deal with this.”

“Katie.”  My name was sharp with disapproval and his own anger towards the man who had sent the note.  “Don’t pretend like this is nothing.”

“Please.  You’re making it worse.  Frank’s taking the note
to the lab for biometric analysis.  There’s nothing more we can do about it.  Just leave it.  We need to focus on catching The Mentor.  He’s more important.”

“Your safety is important.”

I stayed focused on parallel parking, but Reed’s stare burned into my cheek.

“Not as important as stopping The Mentor.  He might be torturing a woman right now, and I’m going to be sipping iced tea.  I’m fine.”

A long moment of heavy silence passed before Reed sighed.  “Okay, Katie.  We can focus on the case.  But don’t think I’m going to drop this.  We’re going to follow up on it.”

“I’ve put dozens of sickos away, Reed.  It’s probably one of them, and they’ve found a way to get the message to me.  They’re all behind bars.  I’m not in danger.  Please respect that I can handle this.”

To my surprise, Reed shot me a wry smile.

“What?”  I asked, uncomfortable that I wasn’t in on the joke.

“You remind me of Sharon, my partner at the New York field office.  She gets really prickly if I question her competence at her job, too.”  His expression turned more serious.  “Of course I respect you, Katie.  You wouldn’t have been assigned to The Mentor case if you weren’t good at what you do.  But that doesn’t mean I’m not going to look out for you.  That’s my job.”

He was so rational.  It was impossible to stay snappish when he laid everything out so calmly.  It was comforting.  I was suddenly happy to have Reed at my side for more reasons than just his physical beauty.

“Okay,” I conceded.  “Thanks, Reed.”

It was the best I could hope for.  If Reed was anything like Dex and Frank – and it was becoming more apparent that he was with every passing minute – he wasn’t going to stop trying to find the man who threatened me.

Dex and Frank are bossy like him.  Does that really mean Dex is a Dom?  What about Frank?

I couldn’t handle thinking about my father figure like that.  It was too weird to contemplate his sexual preferences for even a moment.  I shook my head.  This case was definitely getting to me.  I would start seeing Doms everywhere if I went on like this.

“Come on,” I said as lightly as I could manage.  “Let’s get you that coffee before you get the shakes.”

The perfect grin he shot me knocked all my worries from my brain, and I found myself inexplicably smiling back at him.  The stern side of Reed was all business, but when he turned his lighter side on me, I couldn’t help being charmed. 
More like stunned, really.

It took us a good fifteen minutes to walk from the parking spot I had found to Starbucks.  The sky had darkened to indigo, and the breathtaking lights of the Chicago skyline surrounded us.  Under other circumstances, Reed and I might have been one of the couples strolling out on their date nights.  Unfortunately, my Friday night consisted of discussions about sadistic murderers. 
Not exactly romantic dinner conversation.

Also unfortunate was the good foot of space between Reed and me.  Even with that distance, I could feel his heat at my side.  My hand burned to reach out for his.  The desire to touch him was almost overwhelming.

Stop that!
  Reed was my partner, not my date.  No matter how beautiful or how impossibly alluring he was, he was most definitely off-limits.  Furthermore, he was definitely unattainable.  I was decidedly unfeminine; I didn’t wear skirts or even makeup.  And I knew how to throw a punch.  Men weren’t interested in me, much less sensual gods like the man who walked beside me.

No, he didn’t walk.  He prowled.  His every movement was carefully controlled, as graceful as a stalking panther.

It was almost a relief when we sat down with our drinks.  At least there was a table separating me from Reed.  I would be able to think more clearly.  About The Mentor.

The Mentor was enough to make the last of the heat between us evaporate.  It was impossible to think about anything remotely arousing when focusing on that sick bastard.  I took a sip of my tea to counteract the sudden dryness in my mouth.

“So, tell me what you know about Carl Martel.  What have you guys found in New York?”

Reed grimaced over his coffee cup at the name.  “Unfortunately, Smith did a very thorough job of killing him, so we were never able to question him about who The Mentor is.  We only know that Martel had an accomplice because of what Lydia Chase heard during her imprisonment.  She called him ‘The Mentor’ because he seemed to have taught Martel what he knew about breaking women.  We’re probably looking for someone older than Martel, so that’s at least late thirties.  Lydia never got a look at him, so that’s really all we have to go on.”

“Smith’s reports say he suspects The Mentor directly assisted Martel in stalking Lydia after she escaped.  Can you tell me more about that?”