The Thorndyke Trilogy 2: Dancing at Midnight (6 page)

Dalton had arrived shortly before the storm hit hard, and then they’d been too busy ensuring everything was secure and the backup systems for power were working properly to talk about anything else.

Dalton poured out the fragrant brew before he answered. He picked up the cream jug and added the barest spot of milk. Nathan shook his head when Dalton offered it to him. “Okay.” Dalton blew on his coffee and took a meditative sip. “Do you remember that mess last year, when the PHR nearly caught up to you?”

Nathan nodded grimly. His friend Jay Trevino had sent a woman down the escape line he helped run. “She went back to Jay, but she left a shit storm behind her. Not her fault, but a cell’s in Jay’s Texas home. Her brother’s still in Chicago at Saint Paul, and I’m having him carefully watched in case it happens again.”

“I’m sure you have a fresh cell in your area,” Dalton said. The PHR took lessons from the terrorist handbook and organized in cells—small, self-contained units.

Nathan sighed and gulped his coffee. It burned the back of his throat. Almost without conscious thought, he partially shifted for a moment, long enough to invoke the healing properties of his dragon. “What makes you think so?”

“We got a member.”

Now Dalton had all Nathan’s attention. “When?”

“Two days ago. He wasn’t a key member, but a Sorcerer got to work on him. The poor sap was a kid, barely out of his teens.”

“They like to recruit ’em early.” Nathan remembered other such kids. In Chicago, with its large student population, the threat was always there.

He had no sympathy for the kid. He couldn’t afford it. Talents had too much to lose from the bastards dedicated to wiping them from the face of the earth. “Indoctrinate them while they’re young and impressionable; that’s their motto.”

“Yeah.” Dalton ran his hand through his hair, pushing the long forelock back so his temples stood out in sharp relief. “This one didn’t take much probing, thank God, but he didn’t know much. By the time we’d got to the address he gave us, his pals had gone and taken their evidence with them. But we got enough to know another cell has started. That should put you on your guard. It’s not the man in front of you with the sword you need to worry about; it’s the one behind you with the dagger.”

Nathan knew that too.

He grabbed a mug from the cabinet and poured another coffee, then, after a little hesitation, put the cream jug next to it and opened the cupboard to find the sugar. “She’s a dancer, so she might take sugar,” he said.

One good night was all they’d have. He couldn’t afford to let her get close to him. Not without finding out a lot more about her, and he’d been too busy to do anything but the basics. He made a sudden decision. “I’m leaving this morning, and I’ll take Kristen with me since she’s anxious to get to Chicago. I need to get back to town to make sure everything is locked down and safe. You can stay if you want.”

Dalton drained the last of his coffee. “I’ll come with you. I want to test the situation in Chicago. You’re an important link for the Thorndykes and their mission.” This time he wasn’t talking about himself, but the network his family had set up to help Talents start new lives or spirit them out of danger. Even beings as powerful as Talents could be threatened.

Dalton put down his extra coffee cup and eyed the near-empty jug with a sigh. “Why doesn’t Cora do breakfast?”

Nathan rolled his eyes. “She was up late. Vampire, remember?”

“Ah. So she was out last night?”

“It wasn’t the best night, but she needed to feed, and she doesn’t like using me. She has a mortal friend nearby who donates. Why? Can’t you cook?”

Dalton laughed. “Not much. I don’t have the knack. I don’t enjoy it much either, so I pay somebody else to do it.”

Nathan grinned, in a much better mood this morning for some reason. “So in situations like this, you’re pretty much fucked?”

“Nah. I can forage.” He studied Nathan for a moment, a frown appearing between his eyes. “You’re getting better.”

Nathan sucked in a breath. “In what way?”

“I didn’t know if you were ever coming back from that…snafu.”

“Not a snafu. Betrayal.” It still hurt to think that a woman he’d put his trust in had betrayed him so deeply. Too many people died because of his mistake. At least he could think about it now without his mind freezing, although he still preferred to avoid the mess he’d made in the past. He’d spent a long time trying to make amends, but nothing could remove the bitter memories from him. That was the worst of a long, long life. More memories. People long dead who he remembered so well he felt that sometimes they were just outside the door.

At first the loss had been too raw for him to take. Then he’d worked with a Sorcerer who had helped him put distance between the experience and his present life. Then Dalton got Nathan to start a new life with the Thorndykes, and he’d continued to work for the organization. A kind of witness security program for Talents.

Dalton was one of the few friends Nathan had allowed to see him during that time. Dalton was right—he was getting better. The dancing helped. He’d danced before, but reacquainting himself with the discipline had soothed him, given him something else to think about. Perhaps that was why he’d connected so strongly with Kristen.

Had to be.

He took his offering upstairs, to where she still lay in bed. She didn’t snore, even though she was currently lying on her back. And she looked delicious, the covers tucked up under her chin, her hair a wild tangle. He found it delightful to know what lay beneath the covers.

But their night was over now, and they had to get moving. Although he’d have no objection to her staying here awhile. He put the tray down on the bedside table and watched her wake. Blue eyes, cloudy with sleep, blinked up at him. Before she could object, he swooped down and claimed a kiss.

She pushed him away, mumbled, “I must have morning breath.”

“No more than you did two hours ago. Do you want more sleep?”

“Always.” When he drew the covers to her waist, she made a sleepy protest, but he ignored it and devoured her breasts as if he hadn’t seen them before. He loved the way they responded so fast, tightening into little berries against his tongue.

He pulled away reluctantly and let her drag the comforter back under her chin. “I have to leave in an hour.”

“Aren’t we snowed in?”

He shook his head. “It’s not snowing anymore. The forecast isn’t good for tonight. If I don’t leave in the next few hours, I might be stuck here. I’m using this window to get back to the city. You can come with me, or you can stay. It’s up to you, but I have business to be getting on with.”

He shrugged as if he didn’t care, but he wouldn’t break the rule he’d lived by for the last few years. One woman, one night. “You could rest. Get some sleep. Travel in at your own pace when you get your car back. Dalton’s coming too,” he added. Just in case she got any ideas. He’d shared women before, but where Kristen was concerned, the demon called jealousy had reared its ugly head and refused to go down. Like his cock when he was around her.

Which was doubly ridiculous, given his resolution not to spend more time with her.

“Did you really lock yourself out last night?”

He gave her a one-sided grin. “I really did.”

“Why did you go out on your balcony naked?”

“Ah.” He had an answer. “I got a stupid impulse to feel the snow on my bare skin. I’d just showered, and I thought it would be fun.”

“Oh.” She didn’t seem surprised. Maybe it was the kind of thing she liked to do.

He whisked back the covers and grabbed her, swinging her close. “You want to know what it feels like?”

“No!” She shrieked his name as he dropped her back down. “You idiot. Why would I want that?”

“The Norwegians do it all the time.”

“I’m not Norwegian. My grandmother was Native American. Otherwise it’s English settlers all the way.”

So that was where that glorious hair came from. He stroked his hand down her lightly tanned arm. He’d assumed the color came from a bottle or a sunbed. Perhaps not.

“Drink your coffee. If you want to come with us, be ready to leave in a half hour. Okay?”

Pinning her down, using the sheet to restrain her, he bent and gave her a kiss. “If you want to stay, just don’t get up. The phone signal should be back this morning.”

She blinked up at him. “How do you know these things? I thought you were cut off?”

“I have an emergency satellite phone.”

“Oh. Could I use it?”

“Sure, but you might want to try your own phone first.” He disconnected it from the charger and gave it to her. It would work now because he’d turned his house-based network back on when he’d gone downstairs. She probably had people to contact, and she might as well do it now rather than when she got to the city. Last night he’d wanted to know more about her, especially if she was in contact with the PHR. He was satisfied on that score now. “Don’t tell people exactly where you are, okay? I like to keep this place private. I’ll make arrangements for your car. There are some guys I trust. I’ll give you their name and number after we get back to Chicago.” He’d trust her, but he’d put Cora on alert for a few weeks, in case anybody unexpected showed up.

“Thanks.”

Nathan caught signs of relief on her face when she saw the signal bars were back.

The tense lines at the corners of her mouth relaxed. “Yes, I can. But thanks for offering to loan me the other one. I need to contact my…landlord in Chicago.” She glanced away.

Ah, so she’d remembered her masquerade. If he guessed right, he’d say she was staying with a relative, not a landlord. He kept out of her mind, but he didn’t need to touch it to know she was uncomfortable. She was already regretting her lie, but she figured she might as well keep it up to save face because they’d never meet again. Her gaze dropped before she lifted it again and met his eyes defiantly. “Thanks for the coffee. I’d love the lift, thank you. Do you have an all-weather vehicle?”

“Something better than that piece of crap you arrived in,” he said drily.

“How do you know?”

He’d nearly fucked that one up. He could hardly tell her he’d gone for a quick flight last night. “It had to be to die on you like that. Do we need to retrieve stuff from the wreck? If you come with us, I can arrange to have it towed to Chicago when the weather gets better.”

She sighed. “That’s okay. I sent most of my stuff on ahead.” She raised her shoulder in a half shrug. “I didn’t have much faith in the car, but it would have gotten me to the city if the storm hadn’t been so bad.” When she sat up, she was careful to keep the covers wrapped around her. She was obviously feeling uncomfortable, probably because of her lie. She must know that with the communications back on, he’d be able to look her up. In fact, he already had, but there were too many Kristen Lowes for him to spend time going through them all.

“Where did you drive from?”

She paused. “I drove from Des Moines yesterday.”

Still cautious. He’d find her. That was a clue. At least she’d come from the west. But it was hardly worth investigating because he knew what she was. A dancer, aging by the standards of the profession, fit and enthusiastic, who was forced into a lie by his arrogance. But he couldn’t bring himself to call her out on it.

Let her keep what was left of her dignity, at least until they got to Chicago. He’d probably discover all he wanted to know in her car. He’d send someone out to collect it tomorrow.

“You have a choice. Breakfast or sex. We don’t have time for both.”

To his disappointment, she chose breakfast.

* * * *

Kristen found her neatly laundered clothes. After she’d showered and changed, it was as if she’d spent last night on her own. Except for the tumbled sheets, the redolent, heady scent of sex, and the heat deep inside her, begging her for more.

She was tempted to open the window to dissipate the aroma, but that smacked too much of shame. No, she’d leave everything as it was. The housekeeper would know soon enough anyhow.

The housekeeper wasn’t there when she ventured downstairs.

The men were, and they put a plate before her of superb eggs Benedict, which she devoured with the enthusiasm of the physically active. She’d start her diet when she hit Chicago.

The men conversed about impersonal matters, but from time to time she caught them watching her with curious expressions, as if unable to make anything of her. Their problem.

“Where’s Cora?” she asked after she’d taken her last sip of coffee and sat back, cradling the cup between her hands, replete.

“Sleeping,” Nathan said. “She has insomnia, so she sleeps in.”

Cora was a strange housekeeper, but it wasn’t Kristen’s business, so she said no more.

She reached for the coffee pot, but as she did so, she heard a
whop-whop-whop
from above and realized what kind of all-weather vehicle they’d be traveling in.

Nathan grabbed her bag from its place at the foot of the stairs and slung his arm around her waist, propelling her back toward the stairs. “Up we go.”

“I’ve never—” She stopped, not wanting to appear gauche.

He laughed. “Few people have. You can always stay here if you want to, until the snow clears.”

No she couldn’t. She had her audition tomorrow. “I’ll be fine.” No way would she admit that her knees shook.

Followed by Dalton, they climbed the stairs, then went through a door and up to the roof. Icy cold blasted through her bones, and the gusts of drifting snow would have blinded her had Nathan not held the umbrella in front of them as he ran. Right at the last minute, just as the umbrella would have made contact with the blades of the huge machine, he snapped it closed and dropped it. Just this once, she followed his lead and let him boost her up to the cabin, where someone caught her and swung her around.

She landed in a surprisingly soft seat breathlessly and gazed around. The noise meant she couldn’t hear a thing. Nathan got in next to her and drew her close to make room for Dalton. Interesting that he didn’t let her sit between them. That would have meant her getting close to both men. It warmed her when she thought he might be jealous. Was he? That meant he wanted more, didn’t it?