Cold Moon Rising (23 page)

“I’m in Boulder, at my house. But I don’t want you coming up here. If things went badly . . . no. I don’t want you up here.”

I pulled the phone away from my face to stare at in disbelief, like I could make him see my expression if I just looked hard enough. “Afraid I’ll faint at the sight of blood? Uh, hello? Besides, I’ve got Charles’s rental. I presume he’s going to need it if I’m wrong about the vision.”

He paused and then sighed. “Fine. Bring the car back. Maybe you can help figure out what’s happening. But leave Sue there where it’s safe.”

I couldn’t disagree, but apparently Sue did. She walked up, hand on hip, and motioned for the receiver. She could hear him talking from across the room? That was new. I shrugged and handed her the plastic handset and backed away.

“Lucas, it’s Sue. Look, I appreciate the thought, but really . . . I’ll be fine. I’ve been spending a lot of time at the Wolven facilities. I’ve gotten pretty jaded about blood and gore.”

That raised my brows. She had? I didn’t mind her tagging along, since it wouldn’t do any good to say no anyway—I mean, where would she go? But maybe it’s not just since the ritual that things had changed. I wasn’t kidding about being gone on four assignments in a row. I hadn’t been home for more than a few hours in nearly three months, and have been trying to keep Sue out of my head during the interim. Maybe I needed to sit down with her and find out what she’d been up to on this end that hadn’t made it into the nightly conversations.

His voice sounded tired and determined. But so was she—the chilled metal scent was stronger than her perfume. “I really think—”

“Don’t, Lucas. Don’t think. I’m growing up, okay? It’s a shame it took twenty-six years to do it, but I’m finally becoming an adult. Shit happens. People die. People I love die. I can’t fix it, I can’t help it. All I can do is move on and do my damnedest to be happy. Isn’t that the lesson you wanted me to learn?” She didn’t wait for a reply, and I was amazed and proud of her for it. I found myself with arms crossed over my chest, staring at her with brows raised and a smile on my face. “So, yeah. I’m coming up. Whether or not Tony does. There’ll be things to do whether Ahmad is there or not. ‘Cause like it or not, that’s what I do now—clean up messy things that nobody else wants to, because they have to get done. So see you soon. Bye.” Sue hung up on him and it made me laugh. She wasn’t shaking, she wasn’t near tears, nor angry—so my laugh just made her turn her head as she was putting down the phone. “What?”

I raised my hands symbolically and clapped lightly. “Attagirl. But I probably ought to ask if you’re planning on telling me to go to hell soon too?”

She looked at the phone, and the air was suddenly filled with the flurry of conflicting scents that confusion brings. “I didn’t tell him to go to hell.”

I took the two steps over to her and touched her face lightly. “Not in so many words, but yeah . . . you did. It’s okay, and even though I admit I’m surprised, it’s been needed. I probably deserve to have it said to me too. I’ve been keeping you out of the shit I do, and haven’t even bothered to ask whether you want to be kept out.” Whatever was waiting at the clinic could wait a little longer. I motioned toward the bed and sat down, reaching for her hand to have her do the same. “So, what do you want? I’d like to think that my life will be settling down soon, but I honestly don’t see that happening. If anything, it’s going to get busier. I’m afraid you’re going to wind up alone more than I’d like, but short of flipping off the council and disa-damn-pearing to parts unknown, we don’t have many choices. If this ritual really did work and you’re going to stay healthy, what does Sue, Version Two-point-oh, want out of life?”

She looked a little taken aback. “Out of life? Wow. I can honestly say I haven’t thought that far out. But I’m a little surprised that you’re surprised. How could I not grow up? It was like throwing a pet dog into the wild to live with wolves. It learns to survive or it dies. I’ve been really grateful to all the people I’ve met at Wolven. They’re really good people, Tony. Dedicated and hardworking, fearless and tireless . . . a lot like you. They’re just amazing. It’s hard to be afraid of anything when they’re around. Serial killers?

No problem. Terrorist threats? Piece of cake. Feral new turns? All in a day’s work. Yeah, they come back bloody and exhausted, but they still manage to train and do paperwork. There really isn’t much bookkeeping to do on a daily basis, you know. It’s all on the computer and once I started to sort out all the inconsistencies and fix them . . . well, that took about two weeks. It’s been ten months, so I’ve had to figure out other things to do. I know Lucas just took me on as a kindness, but I’ve really been trying to be useful, so I’ve sort of turned into an all-around secretary. Do you know how many reports I’ve had to Wite-Out splatters of blood and run them through the copier just so you could read them . . . including yours? How could I not learn from people like that?”

I listened, really listened to her ramble, because I really hadn’t thought much about the other half of the business, or what she’s been doing. Of course there have to be copies, and of course they have to be semilegible. The council members are demanding SOBs, which must mean she’d been busy.

She smiled and squeezed my hand. Her scent was a blend of everything good in the world and it made me return the squeeze. “Lelya in Chicago has been great as a sounding board, but Tahira has really been the terrific one to get to know. Even though she came over from blood, she was nearly an adult when it happened. So she started out a lot like me—human and clueless. Plus, we both wound up marrying tough guys who don’t always talk about what they’re going through. One night when we were alone and I was sorting out a bunch of files Lucas brought by, we sat down and started going through the cases you guys have worked on. It wasn’t hard to read between the lines and combine the careful language with the little bits you’ve told me on the phone, and the bits when I got sucked inside you during a crisis. I’ve started to figure out what you’re going through out there.” She paused for a long moment and looked at her lap, her fingers nibbling on themselves, then tapping on her leg, her scent filled with indecision. I realized it wasn’t that she didn’t know what to say, but wasn’t sure how I would react to it.

“Go ahead,” I urged, because I really did want to hear it. Behind her, the sun was starting to light the horizon. The mountain backdrop and flickering streetlamps reminded me of our first conversation, in another hotel room far from here. But neither of us were the same people anymore, and I was thinking that was a good thing.

“I’d like to start doing fieldwork. I really think I’d like that.”

Okay, I wasn’t expecting that. “Fieldwork. Like as a Wolven agent?” She nodded and I had to draw in a sharp breath. I raised a hand to rest against my mouth and chin while I thought and let out the breath slowly. “Wow. Um. I can’t imagine that anyone would approve that, even if I did. Hell, they don’t even like me working on cases because I’m a three-day. You’re full human. You’d get eaten for lunch out there, sweetheart . . . literally.”

She wasn’t deterred though. Her scent wasn’t disappointed or even afraid, still just determined. I couldn’t decide what I thought about it. The wolf part of me was terrified, because she was my mate and could die. The old mobster in me was proud of her for asking, but still chauvinistic enough to want to say no . . . like Carmine would say no if Linda wanted to start running part of the business. Qualified or not.

And . . . like he’d probably said no when she wanted to order the hit. I’d have to talk to him. I knew that now.

Her voice stayed calm and sure. Apparently, she’d worked out her arguments long ago, waiting for just the right time to bring it up. “But not every case has needed a heavy hand, or even magic. A lot of them got solved with just information and the person turned themselves in voluntarily.”

I held up an amending index finger, because she was only seeing half the picture. “Not quite. The information is often gotten because of the threat of the heavy hand that’s doing the asking. And the person turned themself in to avoid being tracked and slaughtered.”

“Not every time.”

I nodded in agreement. “True. But you talk about the agents returning bloody. That’s the norm, not the exception, hon. How many scars do I have now compared with when we met? The being-cut-up-withclaws-and-teeth crap never used to happen when I was working for Camine. Now it’s nearly every day. How much time do you want to spend in the E.R.? ‘Cause a healer’s not always available and you won’t heal for shit.”

Her face shut down and I didn’t have to be hooked to her mind to know she was frustrated. It’s the opposite of determined, so it smells of hot metal, rather than cold. Sort of like wiring burning inside the walls. “So you’re saying no.”

I waved my hands in front of my face, starting to get a little pissed now. “Whoa, whoa. Don’t make me out to be the villain in this play. I didn’t say any such thing. I’m only stating the facts. If they don’t play nice with the script you’ve been writing in your head, that’s not my fault. I’d love to have you excited about something. Hell, if you want to be a policewoman, go for it. But Wolven? That’s like showing up for the Olympics before your first amateur match.”

Now her voice turned sarcastic and biting, but underneath it was the scent of sorrow, so I decided to listen really close. “I’m dead, remember? Nobody hires dead people. Don’t you think I know I can’t afford to have my background or fingerprints checked? Everything I’ve ever trained for is in finance, and they do intensive background checks. Every single company. Maybe Lucas fixed everything in my background, maybe not. But I don’t dare check, and I would be too afraid to ask him if he did it right. Y’know?”

Crap. The reality of that hit me like a blow to the head. It wasn’t just that I was stopped from doing my illegal job, she couldn’t even apply for a legitimate one without going through the meat grinder of the post–9/11 system. “Shit. Look, Sue. I haven’t even been thinking about your side of it and I should have. You’re not like Linda and I should know that.”

She sighed and leaned back against the headboard with a sad expression. “Sometimes I wish I could be like her. She can spend a full week just shopping and buying things, or lazing around the pool reading book after book. If she wants to start a new business, poof! It’s opened, no expense spared and no questions asked by officials at any level. If it folds, then it’s, ‘Oh well. No great loss.’ ” She shook her head. “I just can’t do that. I have to do something, and I want it to have meaning. Wolven has meaning. It’s important . . . agents stop wars and keep people safe. I want to do that, and I think I could.”

I was willing to listen, against my better judgment. Maybe this was a midlife crisis, or a near-death experience. Risk taking was pretty common after both. But to deny it now would only make it worse later, and this time I might be able to control enough that she wouldn’t die. “Okay, tell you what. Let’s go have breakfast downstairs and you can tell me what you have in mind. If there’s any possibility of making it work, I’ll try to come up with some buzz words that might win you a friend or two on the council to sponsor the idea.”

She smiled and leaned forward, all tangerines and cinnamon spice that blended nicely with the vanilla perfume. “I knew you’d listen. Tahira said you’d scream and rant at me and say it was a stupid idea, but that’s not you.”

No. It wasn’t me. Screaming and ranting come out of fear—whether fear of losing control over another person, or fear of loss. I wasn’t afraid of either one, so there was no need to rant. I didn’t want to control Sue, and I’ve been struggling with my fear of losing her for a year. Nothing new there. A light brush of lips sealed the deal, but it wasn’t enough. I slid my hand behind her head and pulled her mouth against mine. Scent and taste rolled into one and I was lost in her body and mind. The door opened, if it had ever truly closed, and it was like our very first kiss was rediscovered. Soft lips, strong jaw, delicate, probing tongue.

She tasted minty and sweet and . . . salty. Yeah, salted cashews, or maybe walnuts. But where had she found walnuts in the hotel?

So sweet . . . like the honey from the bees that swarmed through the gardens behind the palace. Her venom danced across my tongue like bubbles from champagne, and made me just as giddy.

I pulled back from the kiss and stared into her eyes, those too-blue eyes, the color of the finest lapis stones from the quarries near her home. What had possessed me to pull her into my arms and kiss her?

It was as though I couldn’t control my own actions. While there was nobody to see us on the sofa in the back of the custom plane, Nasil would most definitely smell any arousal. And how could I not be aroused?

“Rimush.” The whispered name struck my chest like a knife, but not for the reason she probably expected.

“Rimush is dead, Tuli. He died long ago. For better or worse, I am Ahmad. I chose my name when I chose my path. There is no going back.”

She ran a slow fingernail across my neck, then farther and farther down the open neck of my shirt. When had it become unbuttoned to nearly my waist? I couldn’t help the shiver that raced over my skin from the tingle of her magic, far stronger than I’d remembered it. I’d never expected her to be alive after so many centuries. She was a lesser princess, with no particular magic to make her a valuable commodity to her father the king. She should be dead by now.

But she’s not. She’s right here with me. And nobody is here. I pulled back my hand from where it rested just underneath the fold of her breast. They were still firm and taut under the tight green tank top, with no indication she’d ever nursed a child. Had my father never allowed her even that?

“Ahmad.” She tried out the name. “It’s a good name, I suppose. But I don’t understand why you gave up your true name, your home, your . . . throne. You just disappeared, and we believed you dead for a very long time.” A pause and then she shook her head. “Ahmad al-Narmer. It makes no sense. How can you be from a man, not even your father, instead of a place? King Narmer was a fine ruler, but he was no Sargon of Akede. Your very name is a slap in the face of your family.”