Vigilante Mine (27 page)

"What. Are. You. Wearing?" The question came out lust-tight, low, and frightfully raw.

Had she worn it to seduce Klepto, or was that what she wore to bed every night? His ears throbbed counterpoint to his groin, an edgy reminder of his predicament. He wasn't Ryan right now. He was Klepto, and she could never link the two.

"Your present."

"Uh." His eyes retraced the length of her legs. "Thank you?"

"This is what you had in mind, isn't it?" She walked over to the trash can, dug in silence for a moment, then lobbed over a crumpled piece of cardstock.

Ryan unraveled the paper and squinted at the bold strokes. He'd seen the same handwriting on a few intercepted syndicate contracts. Shiv. Old tobacco wafted from the note in confirmation and anger boiled in hot and fast. Murphy Jones' right-hand thug. "It's not from me."

She froze. Blinked.

"Where did you get this? When?" he asked, wadding the note in one hand.

It should have crinkled. Dizziness rolled over him. An uneasy, disconnected sensation. He unfolded the note, then ripped it straight down the center. The thick paper tore without a sound.

"My kitchen counter," Amanda said.

Ryan gripped the island in shock, hearing Amanda's voice, his own breath . . . and nothing else.

His ability had blown a fuse.

More than that, exposure to the alarm while his hearing had been stretched to the limit had toasted his ears completely. He'd never managed to stay conscious through a full-fledged overload before. The novelty was anything but a relief. He'd be in the thick of Murphy's syndicate, beyond powerless. Sure, he could lip-read, but he'd miss nuance. He'd be unable to defend Amanda.

We are screwed.

"You need my help."

Get out of my head, Romeo.
Ruthlessly, he shoved the order through their telepathic link. Romeo could be a strength, but the German shepherd's tendency to experiment with their connection could also prove disastrous. What other choice did he have?

"First thing yesterday morning." She wrapped her arms around her chest then seemed to realize the motion pushed her breasts distractingly higher. Her fingers tugged at the hem of the dress instead, gave up, then fluttered over her bare thighs. "With a dozen roses and the shoes from my closet. This . . . the note, the dress, it's not from you?"

"No." He took in a deep breath and spread the palms of his gloves out on the kitchen island. Despite his precautions, he'd led Shiv to her front door. "Romeo should have made enough noise to wake you."

"Your dog is a sound sleeper. He also snores."

"He slept through a home invasion?" Ryan growled.

"Listening makes me tired."
Romeo, still huddled in the back of his mind.

I told you to get out.

Her forehead scrunched. "You know who did this."

Ryan realized with a start he'd let Klepto's façade slip. She wasn't a partner. Not to Klepto. If he couldn't pull his role together now, he'd never be convincing enough to keep them alive when they faced the Jones Group. "Enough talking. I'll finish cleaning up while you find something else to wear, sweetheart."

"Oh, I'm wearing the dress," she said with a regal tilt of her head. Moonlight-washed hair slid over one bare shoulder. "Darling."

Thank God he wasn't wearing jeans. As it was, the purr of challenge in her tone coupled with her distracted tapping of fingers on bare skin tightened his cargo pants to the point of unbearable, his cock craving the taste of her body like an addict.

"That is not a dress and it came from Shiv. It's meant as a warning. A test. My associate's wardrobe is my business, not his." He'd forget about how much they needed this deal and how important it was to find out more about the syndicate boss's involvement with Old Town. He'd be too busy killing Murphy and Shiv for laying eyes on Amanda.

"I see. And what would you have me wear instead?"

Oh. Crap. He hadn't meant
—
Klepto, not Ryan. Don't take it back. Stay in control.

Ryan withdrew her current weapon of choice from a trench coat pocket. "You have five minutes to change, or I'm coming in after you and you'll never see your Taser again."

Amanda's lips thinned and she jerked toward the hallway.

Romeo huffed in amusement from somewhere in the back of Ryan's mind.
"Smooth, Spiritwalker."

This isn't funny, and I don't want you in my head.

"Yet clearly, you need me."

I needed you to keep Shiv away from her, not sleep through it.

An angry Amanda was better than a half-naked, distracting one
—
dear lord, she had a luscious rear, the "dress" riding high on the backs of her thighs. Ryan closed his eyes.

Spirit-mate.

He'd have her on his terms, not some prophecy's. Beyond the kiss. Her lips, curves, the sexual attraction
—
she'd intoxicated him at first sight, but more than the physical fueled his interest. Ryan was beginning to think he'd never get enough of the steel-blue challenge in her eyes, her fiery displays of courage, the way she viewed the world as a million tiny puzzles to be solved.

"I will refine the technique so you can Listen."

No!
Ryan jerked his eyelids open. Amanda's kitchen, not some empty, icy nothingness. He sent his urgency and Brennan's translated warnings
—
sever, grow, link, die
—
through the link as he grabbed a fresh paper towel and shoved it under the sink faucet. He dabbed it over his ears, jaw, and neck.
You'll keep your own ears open, warn me if something threatens us.

"She can be your ears."

Ryan's free hand covered the spare earpiece in his other pocket.
I'm not sending Amanda in there without me. Besides, she'd recognize the tech.

Romeo snorted.
"Not with that. Your Spirit-mate is meant to hear."

Not with Amanda. Not up for debate.

"But I can guide you both."

His earache had begun to subside, but the series of images Romeo sent him next made his pulse speed and his temples pound like miniature jackhammers.
You will absolutely not hijack her brain.

Another snort. "
Of course not, Spiritwalker."

Ryan growled aloud.

"Fine. Do this alone. I'll guard your back and relay the shadow voices."

Thank you.

Subtext, threats, lies, the undercurrent Ryan's faulty ears would miss. Shadow voices exhausted Romeo. The German shepherd hadn't offered to guide so intensely since Ryan's spirit search, their initial bonding. A twinge of fear slid across the telepathic link, and Ryan sent a second volley of gratitude.

He slid the back door open and Romeo prowled through. Amanda's breathing left his ears. Her heartbeat amplified. Clad in a tame sweater and jeans, she stood by the front closet, one boot in a motionless hand. She brought out a streak of tenderness in him he didn't know existed. When had he ever wanted to pull a woman into his arms and simply . . . be whatever she needed?

Shield, shoulder, friend.

"Relax. He's coming with us, so you might as well get used to him now." Ryan reached past her and shook a wool coat free of its hanger. "He won't hurt you."

"So you've said."

Then, he'd believed it.

He draped the coat around her shoulders. "Murphy, on the other hand, likes to shoot people who show fear."

"I'm not afraid of Murphy." She laced up her other boot and followed him into the snow, but her eyes never left the dog.

Refined oil and
the too-close scent of mint swamped her senses for over an hour, and her legs ached from lack of motion. Every metal-girded warehouse in sight was a front for shady money. No doubt a few held weapons for the ongoing war. Violent, red-orange tendrils of dawn crept across the bleak sky, the burgundy shadows it cast disturbing Amanda on a primal level.

"How long do we wait?" she asked, shaking thoughts of blood and fire.

"Be patient." His voice rasped against her temple. "I need your scarf."

Warm breath combined with the sensual slide of leather-covered knuckles over her cheek. His fingers curved around her neck and slowly unwound the length of brown wool. Brisk, cutting wind had a moment to seep into the skin Klepto bared before memory of his lips sent a flush through her entire body.

Her toes curled. "Stop that."

She wasn't sure if she meant him, or her hormones.

"Cold?" He moved beside her as if to block the wind, the small shift placing him in deeper shadows. Her scarf hid the lower half of his face from the eerie rays of sunlight. "Or just excited, sweetheart?"

One word, but Klepto savored it when he spoke, growled it low and inviting, and yanked her hormones into a frenzy. She ground her teeth. Damn him. "Brown doesn't match your coat, darling. I'll bring a pink and fluffy one for next time."

His shoulders twitched. "Here he comes. Follow my lead, or there won't be a next time."

For a brief instant, she caught a glimpse of dark, troubled eyes. Her confusion ratcheted up a notch. More and more, this criminal's brutal arrogance and control cracked and splintered in her presence. His injury, or was he intimidated by Murphy?

"Why don't you take off your coat and stay a while?" Shiv led a pack of goons into the warehouse proper and smirked at her, a leer Amanda wanted to punch clean off his face.

"You crossed a line last night, Shiv," Klepto said. "Where's Murphy?"

"Ooh, a line. She liked it, didn't she?" Shiv leaned toward her. "You're working under the wrong man, sweetheart."

Amanda's whole back crawled as if he'd doused her in spiders. Curbing the instinctive shudder strained her muscles, but she managed an air of indifference. "I'm not your sweetheart."

A smile as oily as the air around them spread over his lips as he nodded at Klepto. "I'll cross the line for this firecracker any day."

"Like I'd share with the likes of you." Klepto insinuated far more than "associate" status.

Her eyebrows lifted before she could catch her expression. Gloved fingertips brushed her jacket sleeve.

"Come now, sharing is what we're here to discuss, is it not?" A man in high-end, fresh-pressed business attire stepped around Shiv's thugs. A vivid purple handkerchief was folded crisply in one breast pocket. He cocked his head to one side and a disarming smile spread across his face. "Give the nice officer some space, Shiv."

"Of course, Sir." The rat-faced bastard stripped her bare with his eyes as he took a handful of steps backward. "Always business before pleasure."

Amanda slammed her tongue against the roof of her mouth. What had she gotten herself into?

"I assume you've considered my proposal," Klepto said.

"I have. And though this offering is pleasant," he gestured to Amanda, "it's unnecessary. I have a counter-proposal. Tonight, there will be a fundraiser at the McLelas Financial tower."

Her heart vaulted forward, eager but dreading Murphy's next words.

"Many wealthy people will be there," the syndicate boss continued.

Klepto hadn't chosen his targets alone. Unexpected, but now she knew without a doubt
—

"And their home security will be lax."

Her racing pulse sputtered.
Home security?

He wanted Klepto to steal?

"You have a shopping list?" Klepto asked.

Not kill?

"I do." Murphy flicked an envelope onto the ground. "If you've still got it, these shouldn't be too much trouble for you to obtain for my personal collection."

Disappointment slammed home.

"He wants to protect you, but he's not whole. He can't hear the danger."

Amanda drew in a careful, measured breath as the baritone voice sank into her mind.
I need to hear Murphy, not imaginary voices.
She took in a second breath and pushed away the onset of panic. She could still see the exchange, still feel the lurid stain of Shiv's many glances.

"I'm not imaginary, and you're not crazy."
An amused sensation spread inside her mind.
"Did I forget to introduce myself last time?"

A brush of fur against her fingertips. Klepto's dog. Oh, good. Now she could be mauled instead of fired on by syndicate thugs.

"I would never bite you."
Hurt ridged the dog's voice. It bumped her knee, then sat back on its haunches.
"He only sees their words. I can't reach him."

Her lungs quaked. Temporary insanity. The shock of losing her badge.
Klepto's dog is not inside my head.

"I am,"
Romeo said, lifting his nose to peer at her.
"There is danger. Listen."

Her vision went black.

No! No, not again. Not now.
Passing out in Ryan's conference room had been bad enough, but here, faltering for an instant meant death.