Cipher (34 page)

It wasn’t his touch that bothered me. It was the delay in his narrative. Vampires have no sense of urgency, which drives me mental. They’ll forget what they’re saying and muse silently to themselves for hours if you don’t remind them to resume their story. I guess living for centuries must make time feel different.

He dropped his hand, as though touching me was part of his distraction, then licked his lips as he prepared to speak.

“It would seem, according to the West Coast Tribunal, one of their rogues has crossed into our jurisdiction.” His hands were now stuffed in the pockets of his gray dress pants. Summer or not, Holden Chancery would never be caught dead in shorts. Climate control isn’t really an issue for vampires.

Plus he was already dead.

“Oh?” I didn’t want to say too much, just wanted him to continue speaking.

Holden reached into his blazer and withdrew a familiar white envelope. The paper was a heavy linen finish and smelled sweet but faintly peppery. It was closed with an honest-to-God wax seal, stamped with Sig’s personal insignia.

My heart always caught with butterflies when Holden brought me one of these deliveries, and tonight was no different. With the slightest tremor of excitement, I took the envelope and held it close for a moment. Here it was, the promise of the hunt. The reward of the chase. The killer inside both my monsters lived for this.

I got down to brass tacks. “How much?”

“Ten.” Thousand. Wow, this guy must have been pretty naughty. The average rogue was worth five hundred if they were part of a sect, a thousand if they ran solo.

Yup. I’ve killed vampires for a mere five hundred dollars. But considering rogues would always be an issue, and I had a menacing reputation to uphold, five hundred bucks for a night’s work wasn’t too shabby. The most I’d ever earned on a single job was ten thousand, so this was a pretty nice number to hear again.

The warrant in my hands would cover almost seven months of rent.

Or five months and some new clothes to replace what Holden had insisted I throw out.

I popped the seal with a satisfying crack and was unfolding the paper when Holden’s attention shifted. A second later I knew why.

“Secret?” The voice was low, comforting and masculine without being overwhelming. It did happy things to parts of me I rarely acknowledged. He also didn’t stumble over my name, so he scored points early in the game for that. With a name like Secret McQueen, it was easy for people to make a mess out of it.

I turned away from Holden, the envelope still in my hand, and was pleasantly surprised by what greeted me.

Detective Tyler Nowakowski lived up to Mercedes’s designation of handsome. He was tall, at least six foot two, and lean without bending towards lanky. His eyes were a little too large, but it gave him a look of attentive curiosity. In contrast, his mouth was small, giving his face the appearance of an inverted triangle. His nose and jaw were strong, alluding to the Slavic heritage hinted at by his name. His hair, short and black, was styled with a minimal amount of gel.

He wore dark jeans, about half a size too big, based on how low they had fallen on his narrow hips, and he’d topped it with a white dress shirt fresh from the dry cleaner. I could smell the chemicals under the scent of his nice, but inexpensive, cologne.

Tyler looked at Holden apprehensively, and his thick black brows drew closer together. When he looked back to me, they went the opposite direction, and I accepted I’d made the right choice in agreeing to wear the dress.

“Yes. Secret. That’s me,” I managed to reply, struggling to shove the envelope into my purse.

Why are clutches so small? What’s the point of carrying a bag if all you can fit into it is your cell phone and a lip gloss? I could have found room for those in my bra.

Feeling foolish, I stuck my hand out to him and flashed him my brightest smile. “You must be Tyler. Cedes has told me all about you,” I fibbed.

“Likewise.” He shook my hand, and while I could tell the firmness of my grip surprised him, I was pleased he matched it in return. More points for Detective Tyler. “Sorry, am I interrupting something?”

“What?”

Holden cleared his throat dramatically behind me.

“Oh, him?” I gave a dismissive wave at the vampire, who proceeded to stand next to me, far too close, and offered his own hand to Tyler.

“Holden Chancery,” he said, and Tyler winced when Holden shook his hand. “Secret and I are—”

“Work colleagues.” I wasn’t sure what Holden was up to, but I wasn’t about to let him ruin my night. Not now that I saw what I had to look forward to.

The bewildered look on Tyler’s face softened, but he didn’t totally relax. A good detective never takes anything at face value, and Holden had placed his other hand on my back again, which wasn’t very businessy of him.

“Holden was just leaving.” I stared at the vampire with pointed ferocity.

“I don’t know.” He eyed the fetching brunette hostess standing inside the door. “This place looks pretty tasty.”

He released Tyler’s hand, and the detective flexed it next to his side, making me wonder how hard Holden had squeezed. I would have expected this kind of a territorial pissing contest if Holden had been a werewolf. Not that I knew any werewolves personally, but the theatrical masculinity seemed to be more their style.

Vampires were a little more cut and dry about claiming their property. All one had to do was announce that someone belonged to them and boundaries were respected.

But I sure as hell didn’t belong to Holden, or to anyone else for that matter. I also doubted Holden declaring
mine
right before Tyler’s and my date would have gone over well.

I gritted my teeth into what could have passed for a frustrated smile, but below the register of human hearing I growled at my liaison. I may not have been a huge fan of my furry brethren, but sometimes my lupine DNA really pays off. Vampires can snarl, but no one growls like a werewolf.

“Sadly, I have a date elsewhere.” He stopped touching me and tipped an imaginary hat towards us.

The whole encounter had been entirely unlike Holden. He had been almost…playful. He was usually so serious. His unusual behavior tonight made me wonder about the envelope in my purse. My new target
had
to be good.

“Good night,” Tyler said with more politeness than I would have managed.

I stepped away from Holden and was about to speak to Tyler when the vampire got in his last word. “Don’t forget to have a look at the contract, Secret. Wouldn’t want that one to get away.”

I turned to say something that promised to be painfully clever, but Holden was already gone.

Cipher

Moira Rogers

Their desire could be their destruction…or their greatest strength.

Southern Arcana
,
Book 4

Fourteen months ago, Kat Gabriel learned a brutal truth. Under the wrong circumstances, her empathic ability is no gift. It’s a deadly weapon. Now her soul bears the inescapable weight of those deaths—and it aches for the loss of the easy relationship she once shared with Andrew Callaghan. Unleashing her power saved his life, but she couldn’t save his humanity.

Since the attack that turned him into a werewolf, Andrew’s sole focus has been to make himself stronger. Pushing her away hurt like hell, but Kat doesn’t need a friend. She needs a protector strong enough to shield her from the supernatural world that forced her to kill. Strong enough to resist their volatile connection.
 

As Kat’s quest to understand the violent legacy of her past leads her into the darkest underbelly of the psychic world, Andrew is at her side. Yet every step forward rips open old emotional wounds and shakes their control. Where they’re headed, distractions of any kind can be fatal—especially when the greatest threat they pose is to each other.

Warning: This book contains a dangerous shapeshifter who could kill you with his bare hands, an empathic hacker who could kill you with her mind, a psychic cult determined to kill everyone, a lot of violence, a little bit of hope, and a happily-ever-after seven years in the making.

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This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the writer’s imagination or have been used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locale or organizations is entirely coincidental.

Samhain Publishing, Ltd.

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Cipher

Copyright © 2011 by Moira Rogers

ISBN: 978-1-60928-523-4

Edited by Anne Scott

Cover by Kendra Egert

All Rights Are Reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

First
Samhain Publishing, Ltd.
electronic publication: September 2011

www.samhainpublishing.com