Remembered by Moonlight (5 page)

Should she broach the subject?
I could tell by your scent that you got up-close-and-personal last night while I was sleeping.
No. Better to say nothing then to force him to go on the defensive.

And then the sound of Karen Crawford’s irritating voice cut in with a recap of her previous day’s interview. Cee Cee sipped cautiously, stare shooting bullets at the image on the screen.

“Do I need to apologize again?”

She glanced at Max, smiling tightly. “No. In retrospect it’s not such a bad thing.”

“Giles told me to ask you about my stripper girlfriend.”

A laugh. “He did, did he?” She took another slow sip, letting him wonder a bit longer before spilling the truth. “Rumor has it you became infatuated with an exotic dancer at Carmen Blutafino’s Sweat Shop and carried her off to live with you as a side dish in a fancy high-rise love nest unbeknownst to your cop girlfriend while said dish’s pimp got a big salary and position boost in Manny’s organization.”

“And this dancer’s name?”

“Chili Pepper.”

Max studied her for a long, silent moment then deduced, “You and your partner, I take it.”

“Why would you think that?”

“Because, Detective, I can’t imagine that having you, I would have the stamina to entertain another lover.”

A pleased smile tweaked about her lips. “Good answer.”

“Not to mention the fact that you are well armed.”

A low chuckle. “And there’s that.”

“Are you still undercover as Ms. Pepper?”

“She’s on hiatus.”

“A shame. I’d have enjoyed taking in a performance.”

He was flirting with her.

For a moment, the sultry cant of his eyes, the tempting curve of his lips, the unmistakable flicker of heat in his deep voice brought back those courtship days when she couldn’t turn around without bumping into the determined mobster’s shadow sniffing at her heels. Aggravating at first, then something she began to look forward to. Now something she couldn’t live without.

Wondering how far she should push the teasing mood, Cee Cee held his stare unblinkingly. “Now that Ms. Crawford has so nicely reestablished my cover, perhaps I could be persuaded to come out of retirement. Strictly business, of course.”

“Of course,” he drawled.

Some serious sizzle was sparking between them when MacCreedy had the bad timing to intrude after a brief knock. And also the smarts to realize he was stepping in the middle of something.

He halted just shy of the recessed living room to offer, “I could come back later.”

“Don’t be silly,” Cee Cee insisted, glancing behind him to see another figure. “There’s enough coffee for both of you.”

Nica Fraser MacCreedy stepped up to curl her arm about her mate’s waist. “I’m just dropping him off. He’s pretending he’s fine. Ignore him.”

“Then while I go get dressed, make sure he sits down before he falls down.”

Silas rolled his eyes at the determined coddling but obediently took Cee Cee’s spot on the couch. As she was about to slip past him, he caught her arm and held it tight, surprising her with his urgency.

“Thank you.”

Her brows shot up. “For what?”

“I’m not sure I would have stayed down as long as you did.”

She tugged free. “Don’t be an ass. Of course you would have. That’s what partners do. No big deal.”

She was afraid he was going to make it one, but then he just smiled and relaxed back into the cushions. “If you say so.”

“I say so. If you want to thank somebody for saving your butt, thank Max. He’s the one who came to both our rescue.”

“So,” Max drawled out, gaze measuring Silas coolly. “Are you the pimp?”

Leaving her startled partner to explain that to Max’s satisfaction, Cee Cee hurriedly pulled on jeans and a crisp button-front shirt. After applying a quick slick of makeup and grabbing up the tools of her trade, she returned to find a more relaxed mood among the trio. Silas, who must have come up with some convincing answers, slurped up the rest of his coffee and came to join her with surprising news.

“Max convinced me to pay for the first round at
Cheveux du Chien
tonight. Nica’s not working, so it’ll be fun.”

Just the four of them. A double date? And it was Max’s idea? Cee Cee shot him a quick look, but he merely smiled at her and said, “There’ll be dancing.”

The off-handed comment took her like a punch, bringing a flood of memories of them moving together in one another’s arms. Knowing he had no such recall made the moment unbearably poignant. “I’ll get home early to pick you up.”

“I’ll meet you there, Detective. At seven. So I can make sure you’re actually eating something and not simply storing it in the refrigerator to grow experimental molds.”

“You’ve got a date, Savoie.”

And strangely enough, with the way excitement percolated through her, it felt like one. So much so, she forgot to ask him his plans for the day.

Nica caught her husband about the waist, her hand curving behind his neck to pull him down for a quick kiss. “Don’t get into any more trouble.”

“Yes, ma’am,” he murmured agreeably. “You heading out, too?”

“Max and I are going to talk a bit. See you later, hero.”

He exchanged a curious look between Nica and Max who, up until recently, he wouldn’t have trusted in a room alone together. “Play nice.”

“Don’t I always?”

He snorted in a dubious breath.

Max watched the two partners leave then turned his guarded focus to Nica. He’d known what, if not who she was the first time he’d seen her. “What do we have to talk about, Assassin?”

She approached with that easy, athletic grace, like the lean, dangerous animal he knew she was. A sliver of memory flickered, of him leaping between vaults in a cemetery with her in pursuit. Was she putting those images there? Feelings of awe and fierce animosity tangled and tightened as she sat facing him, her expression composed, eyes unblinking.

“I’ve been where you are, Max. I know the confusion you’re feeling. I’ve been in their control, and with Silas’s help, and yours, I was able to break free and start over. Here. This is my home now, and I consider all of you my family. I’m not willing to compromise either of those things.”

“Is this a threat?”

A fatally calm reply. “Could be if you become one.”

“How so?”

“I know what they’re capable of, Max. How they get inside your head and twist your thoughts up into something evil and dark. Sometimes you don’t even know they’re there. You think the thoughts are your own until . . . until it’s too late.”

Now she had his complete attention. Time to learn about his enemy, about the intellectually elite Chosen who tried to control the future of their kind through ruthless manipulation. “Tell me.”

“They turn you into a weapon against those who trust you, against those you love. They make you an extension of their reach. They see through your eyes, act through your hands.”

“But you resisted. You broke free.”

“Yes. I did. But not before I almost killed—” She ended the remembrance abruptly, taking a deep breath to reestablish her unfaltering cool. “It wasn’t something I could have stopped on my own. Silas fought to save me. So did you. I’d return that favor if I could.”

His gut tightened. “You think I’m a danger to you all?”

“If I knew it for certain, we wouldn’t be sitting here having this pleasant conversation. But I do think it’s possible. We don’t know what they did while you were in their hands. We might never know until the moment you turn on us.”

A terrible foreboding shook through Max.
They’ll hurt you. They’ll use you.
Who was
they
? Those who had taken him or those who had him now? “So how can we stop that from happening?”

“What do you remember from your time in the North? Anything? Any experiences, sensations, no matter how minute?”

Pain, sharp and unrelenting. Struggling against fatigue and weakness to keep the doors to his mind closed and them out. Them, who? “I was hooked up to machines, to IVs.”

“What did they want to know?”

“They didn’t ask any questions. I wouldn’t let them in.”

She nodded, needing no further explanations. “Did they speak to you at all?”

If you want to save them, you must trust me.

He shook his head.

They’ll be safe. Isn’t that what you want?

“Did you see them?” Nica pressed.

When it’s safe, I’ll find you.

“No. No one.”

You are the one who will save us all, Max.
A woman’s voice, familiar but unknown.

You are special. Blessed.
His mother’s insistent claim.

The same, yet different. Different females of the same blood. His blood.

“I’m sorry I can’t be of more help to you.”

“You can fight it, Max,” Nica insisted, drawing him out of his tumultuous thoughts. “It starts with a headache. You’ll feel sick, disoriented, cold. Then full of conviction and direction. You’ll feel compelled to act. The urge just gets bigger and bigger.” Her words shook slightly as if at a tremendous cost.

“And if you resist it?”

“You’re punished. And believe me, that’s not pleasant or easily survived.”

Max regarded her for a long moment, seeing what she was capable of. A survivor, a fighter, who would take any necessary means to protect what mattered to her. At the moment, he was outside that circle. “So your solution is to lock me up in that cage again.” The back of his neck bristled with objection.

“No. My solution is to warn you. If you suspect any of these symptoms, call me. I can help. Anytime. Anywhere. I owe you all that I have and I take that debt very seriously. You don’t need to trust me, only to believe me.”

“I do.”

“So, you’ll call me?”

“I will.”

After she left, Max considered her words and the impact they would have on his situation. And as he did, he absently rubbed at the mild throb in his temple.

The instant he stepped into the vast space of Jacques LaRoche’s club, Max experienced a rush of attention far different than he’d felt at the Cummings’ fund raiser.

Beneath a crooning wave of Robert Cray blues, the warmth of his clan’s devotion surrounded him in a surging tide that lifted and emotionally carried him. Everything about the Shifter night spot was familiar, at least on a subconscious level. These were his kind. He knew them by the signature scents they exuded, by the tentative Glimmers of greeting that touched him on a psychic level. He didn’t have to know their individual faces to realize that he was amongst friends.

“Savoie!” came the big, booming voice of the club’s massive owner. “About damned time.” LaRoche came around the bar to pull him into a rib-bruising embrace, then kept a meaty arm about his shoulders as he turned to his patrons to proclaim, “What did I tell you? He’s back. Now go about your business and let the man drink in peace.”

Jacques towed him to his seat of honor and plopped into an adjoining chair, from which he regarded his friend with a welcoming grin. “Good to have you back. Good for business, too. Nothing like a Second Coming to get folks in a celebratory mood. You here by yourself?”

He followed Max’s targeting stare to a figure on the far side of the small dance floor. And his grin got impossibly wider. “Ah. I see you brought your better half.”

Max rose from his seat to appreciate her approach.

Charlotte Caissie wasn’t easily ignored, her movements strong and confident, her body, on this night, tightly wrapped for sin. Her short black dress had one three-quarter length sleeve and a neck line that dramatically curved to leave the other arm and shoulder temptingly bare of all but bronzed skin and sexy muscle tone. Long legs went to even greater lengths atop killer heels, also black. She wore no jewelry. Her darkly outlined eyes gleamed like onyx, her red lips shiny as satin sheets. The scent of
Voodoo Love
went right to his groin.

Beautiful, fierce.

His.

“You might want to wipe that drool off your chin.”

LaRoche’s wry observation jerked him from the moment, giving him the presence of mind to offer a small smile and pull out the chair next to his as she joined them. Her stare fixed onto his like a laser site, creating an uncomfortable tightness in his throat, in his inseam.

“You look good enough to eat, Detective.”

Her fingertips brushed over his where they rested on the back of the chair, the effect heat lightning.

“I’m sure you’re not the only one here who thinks fondly of making a meal of me and picking their teeth with my bones.”

“I don’t think they’d dare.”

She continued to smile at that arrogance and teased him with her bold glance as she sank onto the seat. Then she crossed those gorgeous legs and his attention was riveted to the bold red underside of her shoes, that same man-hunting red as her lipstick and nails. A devouring urgency growled through him as he finally remembered to sit down.

“I hope I’m not overdressed.”

“Not now,” Max assured her. Then his eyelids lowered to a simmering half-mast. “But perhaps later you will be.”

“Perhaps,” she agreed, never looking away.

Jacques cleared his throat. “Since I’m invisible here anyway, I might as well get back to work.”

Neither of them noticed him leave.

This morning and now again, Cee Cee wanted to fall right into that smoldering heat she saw in Max’s stare. Sitting with him, trading innuendos and incendiary touches, almost wiped away the past months of panic. Almost. She remained cautious because she knew Max. He was a chameleon when it came to changing colors, to adapting to his surroundings. Was he only giving her a reflection of what she wanted so desperately to see, or was there more behind his sudden warming mood?

She couldn’t afford to be drawn in by an illusion of what had been. Her battered spirit couldn’t take the disappointment.

So she turned down the flame to a light flicker and took an emotional step away.

“Are you starting to remember things?” she asked, trying not to sound too hopeful.

If he noticed her cooling temperature, Max didn’t betray it. “I know this place,” he told her, glancing about the crowded room where covert interest lingered on them. “I don’t actually have any memories of it, but I know I’ve been here. That’s a start, isn’t it?”

She smiled. “Yes, it is.”

“I don’t remember that dress or those shoes. I’d like to think I would.”

He’d bought both and had enjoyed taking them off her. Cee Cee’s expression never altered. “There’s no reason you should. They’re new.”

That reassured him. His fingertips traced lightly down her arm where it rested upon the tabletop. He couldn’t miss her shiver of response or the way she eased out of his reach as he asked, “How was your day, Detective?”

“SOP. Same ole, same ole. Pushing papers and looking for leads. Alain stopped in for a minute.”

“Babineau,” Max supplied readily. “How’s your old partner?”

His question came easily, reminding Cee Cee again of how adept he was. He was filling in the details of his world at a remarkable speed, but was it just a shell over empty space?

“He sends you his regards.”

One of Max’s big, blow-your-hair-back laughs burst out and trickled down to a husky chuckle. “I’ll just bet he did.”

Did he
know
how Alain Babineau felt about him, or had he simply heard something? His spontaneous comments seemed to come from genuine knowledge. From some vault of his past he’d managed to preserve when all the rest was stolen away.

Or was she just seeing what she wanted to see?

“Ah,” he announced abruptly. “The rest of our party.”

Cee Cee twisted to see Silas and Nica MacCreedy. Strange to think of them as married as well as mated, but Silas had insisted upon making that human bond as permanent as the one he’d claimed in the way of their kind. He enjoyed straddling the line between both Upright and Shifter worlds so he could move with equal freedom in both. Nica didn’t care because she was carrying the eternal proof of their union that wouldn’t be hidden for long under the snug white tank top and tight black jeans she wore in the club where she’d taken over as manager.

Tonight, she was off the clock, with her thick black hair loose about those sinewy shoulders, giving a softer femininity to her look, her lean figure draped in a soft knit dress as deep a blue as her twilight colored eyes. In her heels, she was almost as tall as her husband who was never off the clock in his cheap suit coat over jeans, buttoned up shirt and boring tie. They looked good together, a pairing that had surprised but now pleased Cee Cee. Nica had been an enigma from her childhood days at St. Bart’s and Silas was a very solid part of her day-to-day present. And she saw in both of them, with their special gifts, the means to make her future complete.

If they could help her reach Max.

Their first attempt had been difficult and disappointing. They’d only managed to pull one name from the fractured remnants of Max’s mind. Genevieve Savorie. Savorie—Max’s true family name. His mother had changed it to Savoie to help hide them.

Genevieve was an unknown variable. The priest, Furness, hinted at a past with her. Evidence suggested she was part of the enemy faction in the North. So why was her name the only one Max remembered?

True to his promise to see her fed, Max had asked Silas to provide a carry out meal for them to share since
Cheveux du Chien
had no kitchen. And Cee Cee couldn’t resist a fully dressed po’boy. Pushing away the darker musings, she smiled her thanks and tore into the substantial sandwich as their waitress Amber came for drink orders. Without hesitation, Max ordered beer for the couple and himself and a Jack-and-Water for her. She paused in her chewing, startled by his recall of her preference and disheartened that he didn’t know why she waved it off in favor of a diet soda just as Nica did.

To keep the mood light while they enjoyed their meal, Cee Cee asked the newlyweds to share some PG highlights from their honeymoon abroad. As she listened to them reminisce with tantalizing anecdotes of sandy beaches, vineyard tours, and restful moonlit walks, Max’s hand slipped over hers. For appearances, she told herself. Everyone in the club knew they were involved, and these tiny gestures were expected. Was that what Max was thinking as his thumb caressed her knuckles? Or on some subconscious level was he reliving their brief escape to the ocean in California where Sex on the Beach became more than just a fruity drink?

They were laughing over a work-related story Silas was telling, everyone relaxed and comfortable, including Max, when Jacques came to lean down to Cee Cee.

“My ear on the dock heard something interesting.”

She stood, drawing her partner’s attention. Mumbling a quick apology, she and Silas followed LaRoche to the quiet hallway by his office.

“What have you heard,” Cee Cee coaxed.

“There’s an unofficial underground event tonight you might find interesting. High stakes, posh crowd, hush hush.”

“Related to our case?” MacCreedy shared an intrigued glance with Charlotte.

“Possibly. Invitation only.” And with a flourish, Jacques provided a business card containing a square digital QR code. “Consider yourselves invited. Take your wallet. Cover charge is $200.00. Each.”

“Looks like I’ll be stopping at the ATM,” Silas murmured as he read the card with his cell phone app. He shared the screen with Cee Cee. A map and a time, nothing else.

They had less than an hour.

♦ ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦

Max didn’t need to hear the apology to know their night out was over. When his date and friend returned to the table, they fairly hummed with the edgy excitement that came with their job. That made it more difficult not to betray his frustration. He’d been enjoying himself, feeling safe in the surround of people he was beginning to trust.

Cee Cee hung back and let Silas make the excuses. He bent down to press a quick kiss to his mate’s cheek.

“Something came up. Gotta go. I need to take about a grand of flash money out of our account.”

Nica caught him by the tie before he could straighten, holding him at eye-to-eye level. “Will we be getting a reimbursement from the department?”

Since it was her money he’d be withdrawing, the
our account
just for dignity’s sake, he didn’t hold back on the explanation. “I don’t know. Depends on what we find. May not want to go mainstream with it.” If it turned out to be strictly Shifter business. She got that and let him go. But not far and not without conditions.

“I didn’t get dressed up to work behind the bar for the rest of the evening. I was expecting a good time.”

“I can promise you one later.”

“Hmm. Tempting, lover, but that would depend on what shape you’re in when you come home. I think I’ll just go along with you to protect my investment in both the financial and pleasurable returns.” Her cool gaze moved to Cee Cee. “Problem with that?”

Her husband’s partner shrugged, hiding a smile. “None. Would help with our cover and with our escape if we have to make a quick one.” Cee Cee jumped as Max caught her wrist.

“Perhaps I could go along, too. I like a good time.”

Max watched those clever cop eyes narrow as she processed the pros and cons, and closed him out. He wasn’t pleased with her decision.

“You’d be too recognizable, Savoie. Sorry.”

A liability. A risk she wasn’t willing to take. Unnecessary baggage when once he’d been a benefit. He got that, but knowing didn’t soften the cruel blow to an ego he was trying to reconstruct.

He released her arm, making his reply carefully neutral. “I’m sorry, too. I guess this is goodnight then. Don’t worry. I can find my way home.”

Jacques stepped in to ease the immediate worry tightening her features. “He can hitch a ride with me. I’m cutting out in just few. Susanna’s got a late shift, so I’m on daddy duty. He’s just a floor up, so I don’t think he’ll get lost.”

Hard not to resent her hesitation, that of caregiver toward unreliable charge. Max smiled thinly. “I’ll be fine, Detective. I promise not to wander off or watch any of the adult channels.”

Catching his annoyance, she paused, but instead of offering an apology that might have soothed his pride, she gave a brisk nod and was ready to follow Silas and Nica toward the door. Not good enough. Again, he gripped her wrist, holding tight this time. He wouldn’t let her walk away that easily from all the evening had promised.

“Is that how you’d usually say good-bye to me in front of all these curious eyes?”

Again, the indecision before her dependable common sense won out.

“No, it’s not,” she admitted. Placing her palm to his cheek, she bent to bestow a rather conservative kiss, thinking that would satisfy the onlookers. Perhaps it would.

But it didn’t satisfy him.

He heard her quick inhale as he sucked her lush lower lip in between his for a gentle worrying of his teeth. When he released it, her breath rushed out noisily.

Her eyes were still closed as she levered back just slightly, her brow touching his, her hand soft upon his face, as she whispered, “I’ll see you later, Savoie.”