“I was watching you. Jones had you on the defensive. Obviously the old-woman illusion wasn’t working.”
“It worked.”
It had slowed him down, though, and it had been out of control. That really worried him. He was afraid to tell January that, in the heat of hand-to-hand combat, he had been unable to hold the illusion. It had winked on and off erratically like a broken flashlight.
“You tripped and fell,” January said.
There was a reason January had been given that particular code name, he thought. Cold as a glacier.
“Things like that happen in a fight,” he said. “It wouldn’t have changed the outcome. Jones isn’t anywhere near as fast as me.”
“He’s a mirror talent. He was anticipating your every move.”
“That’s not true. I was closing in. The problem was that damned car.”
“I hope you understand that your failure to perform to expectations reflects poorly on me. Jones survived tonight. That means I will have to have an unpleasant conversation with a certain individual. Need I remind you that both of us are dependent on that individual for our supply of the drug?”
He forced himself to remain silent. He had one critical advantage. January could be replaced but that was not the case with him. He was a one-of-a-kind lab experiment. They had explained to him that illusion talents of any level were extremely rare. An illusion talent who possessed a psychic profile that could, with the right chemical stimulation, be expanded to include a high-level hunter talent, was the stuff of myth and legend.
He was on the way to becoming a walking legend within the organization. Nightshade needed him.
“I’ll take care of Jones next time,” he said.
“I’ll decide whether or not you get a second shot at Jones.”
He did not argue. Instead, he started to make his own plans.
Twenty-six
By the time Zack ended the call she was simmering.
“Mr. Jones, I take it, is not a sympathetic employer,” she said. It had been all she could do not to yank the phone out of his hand and give Fallon Jones the benefit of her opinion.
Zack shrugged. “I think of him as a client, not an employer. I work for him on a contract basis. As far as I know, all of his agents and analysts handle it that way. He doesn’t have a regular staff. Doubt if he could get anyone to work for him full-time. He calls in whatever talent he thinks he needs.”
“That’s not the point.” She spread her arms wide, exasperated. “You almost got killed tonight. Judging by your end of the conversation, it didn’t sound as if Fallon Jones cared a jot about your welfare.”
“Fallon is all about the bottom line. As long as I’m alive and kicking, he’s only interested in the next move.”
“He doesn’t sound like a very nice person at all.”
“Fallon is…Fallon. To know him is to appreciate him.”
“Bet he doesn’t have a lot of friends,” she muttered.
“Well, no, but that doesn’t seem to bother him much.”
She sighed. “What happens next?”
He looked down at his duffel bag and then raised his eyes to meet hers. “Given recent events, it looks like I’ll be staying with you for a while. Where do you want me to put my stuff?”
She had known this was coming, she reminded herself. And he was only here because of the danger. This was business, nothing more. Nevertheless, the reality of having him here, under her roof, sent little shivers of anticipation through her.
“Okay,” she said, opting for cool and composed.
“Not going to argue, huh?”
She raised her brows. “A serial killer invaded my home tonight and more or less announced that he is targeting me. I am not an idiot. I am delighted to have a houseguest who knows how to cope with people who attack other people with knives.”
“Gotta love it when common sense prevails. Are you going to call Gordon and Andrew and tell them what’s going on?”
She shook her head. “There’s no point. They’ll cancel their trip and sit around worrying about me. There’s nothing they can do. In fact, if they stay here in town they might be in jeopardy. If the freak finds out how important they are to me he might—” She broke off suddenly.
“Your choice. Where do I sleep?”
“I made the second bedroom into a library. There’s a pullout sofa bed in there.”
“I was afraid you were going to say something like that. Lead the way.”
She turned and went down the hall. He followed her, duffel and jacket in hand. Batman and Robin padded after them, interested in the unusual situation.
“Maybe you should think about getting a dog,” he said. “Cats are great but they have their limitations when it comes to guarding a household.”
Raine looked at him over her shoulder. “I’ll let you bring up the subject with Batman and Robin. Something tells me they’re going to be a tough sell.”
She led the way into the library. Bookcases lined the walls. There was a sleek glass-and-wood desk near the window. The sofa bed, black leather like the rest of the furniture, was in the center of the room.
She got some sheets and pillows out of a closet. By the time she returned to the library, Zack had pulled out the bed. They made it up together. It was an oddly intimate experience, she thought. But then, everything she did with Zack felt that way.
“There are two baths,” she said, indicating the door across the hall. “That one is all yours.”
“Thanks.”
Unable to think of any reason to linger, she went to the door.
“Good night,” she said.
He made no move to stop her but she knew from the heat in his eyes that was what he wanted to do.
Was that what she wanted? To have him lunge toward her, scoop her up and toss her down onto the sofa bed? Take the decision out of her hands?
Well, sure. What woman with blood in her veins wouldn’t have wanted to play out that scenario? Life was getting complicated.
She made it out into the hall without succumbing to the urge to fling herself into his arms. So far, so good.
Two steps beyond the door he spoke.
“Almost forgot to tell you. Fallon gave me a lead on Lawrence Quinn. He’s a big blues aficionado. Evidently there’s a club here in town.”
She turned and went back to the entrance to the little library. “The Alley Door. I’ve never been there but I’ve heard it’s quite popular.”
“Fallon thinks it’s worth checking out, and since hunches are his specialty, I’d better take a look. Tomorrow night—” He checked his watch. “Make that tonight, you and I are going to spend the evening at the Alley Door.”