“What do you want, Blue?” he sighed.
Nicky leaned in and rested his folded arms on the lowered window. “What do I want? There’s a lady present, so I’ll save that one for another time. But just know I’m on to you, McCain. I don’t know what you got going, but I do know when a guy’s not being straight with me. I just hope your secrets won’t put you in my crosshairs. I don’t give a shit who you work for—you get in my way, you put Trish in danger in any way, and I’ll take you out. Take you out before you even know it’s coming. We understand each other?”
McCain slowly turned his head and met Nicky’s gaze. “You don’t scare me, Blue,” he assured him. “You’re just a washed-up thug who hasn’t figured that out yet.”
Nicky laughed. “Yeah? Well, maybe so. But are you willing to put that to the test?”
“Come on, Nicky,” I said, taking his arm and pulling him away from the car. “It’s cold out here.”
Nicky put his arm around my shoulders and pressed a kiss to my temple. “Sorry, doll.” Then he jerked his chin at McCain. “See you around.”
McCain shook his head with a scoff, then drove off.
“Wow—are you spoiling for a fight that badly?” I asked as Nicky and I went inside.
“I don’t trust him,” Nicky muttered.
I slapped my hands on my hips. “No shit. He’s hiding something, I’ll give you that. But you showed your hand. That’s not like you. What’s going on?”
Nicky drew me into his arms. “Sometimes you gotta give a peek at your hand now and then, make everyone wonder what else you’re holding, make ’em sweat a little.” When I frowned, he kissed the crease on my forehead. “Now, come on. Let’s get outta these scrubs and go track down those Agency assholes.”
Nicky had a fleet of cars that would make Jay Leno salivate. Rows of various styles of vehicle—classic and modern—filled the warehouse Nicky called his “garage.”
“You actually drive all these?” I asked as I checked out what appeared to be a 1929 Rolls-Royce Phantom II.
He shrugged as he punched a ten-digit code into a keypad that popped open a safe containing several rows of keys hanging on pegs. “Not all. There are a few so rare I don’t risk taking them out. But most of them get to stretch their legs now and then.” He snatched a set from its hook and shut the door. The safe beeped as its security system engaged.
“We obviously have lived very different lives,” I muttered as I followed him to a black Range Rover Evoque.
“Yeah, well, don’t say that like it’s a bad thing.” He opened the door for me, then added with a grin, “Besides, there’s a lot gonna change for both of us from here on out.”
My stomach tightened, and I almost asked him if that meant he was planning to stick around now instead of taking off again once we’d found Dracula. But the words froze on my lips. It wasn’t a conversation I wanted to have right then—if ever.
I was quiet on the drive to meet with Nicky’s contact, a fact he didn’t miss. At one point, he took my hand and raised it to his lips and gave me a tentative smile. But I wasn’t in much of a talking mood. I returned his smile but then turned my attention back to the window and the buildings blurring by as we drove.
I was in love with Nicky. And there was no way I was going to walk away from that. He said he loved me, and I believed him. I just hoped it was enough to keep him here.
I was so distracted by my thoughts, I didn’t notice Nicky had parked until he reached over and put a hand on my thigh. “You okay, doll?”
I started a little and nodded, giving him a smile far too quickly to be believable. “Just tired,” I said, trying to cover. “Been one hell of a week, you know?”
He cupped my face and smoothed his thumb over my cheek. “It’ll be over soon,” he promised. “We’re close, Trish, I can feel it.”
I gave him a determined nod and gladly accepted his brief kiss, clinging to his lips for just a little when a sense of foreboding suddenly squeezed my heart. As we walked down Michigan Avenue with my hand grasped tightly in his, I tried to shake the heaviness that was weighing down on me, trying to figure out what had set it off and coming up with nothing. Every now and then, I’d send a glance his way, studying the planes and edges of his face, his strong profile, committing every line to memory.
I am going to lose him.
The thought struck me so hard I actually doubled over with a gasp, clutching at my stomach as if someone had punched me in the gut.
“Trish?” Nicky said, bending forward so he could peer into my face. “You okay, doll? What’s doin’?”
I shook my head, blinking away tears of heartbreak. I was imagining things. Everything would be fine. As soon as Dracula was brought down, we’d figure things out between us and live happily ever after. We deserved it, goddamn it! I swallowed hard, shoving aside my apprehension. “I’m okay,” I muttered. “Let’s just get this over with.”
We walked for a few more blocks, making a couple of turns, but I wasn’t paying any attention. The world around me kept going hazy, growing dim, then coming back into focus for a moment before fading again. I shook my head, trying to clear my vision. When Nicky slowed his pace, I squinted at our surroundings, surprised to see we were standing on Wabash Avenue in the middle of Jewelers Row.
My eyes widened when I saw the sign hanging over the store Nicky was heading toward: Rumpelstiltskin’s, Turning Straw Into Gold Since 1956.
“Your guy is a jeweler?” I asked.
Nicky chuckled. “That’s just his front. You’ll see.”
The shop was small and cozy, but the glass display cases were filled with a stunning collection of baubles that made my eyes go wide. Even with my decent FMA salary, I couldn’t imagine there was anything in the store that fell within my budget. The people who shopped there were the elite of Chicago.
“Well, smack my ass!”
I turned toward the voice and blinked at the Tale behind the counter. He was movie star handsome, his golden brown hair falling in carefully styled, perfectly highlighted waves around his beautiful face. He came out from around the counter, moving with surprising grace. His silk shirt looked custom made, and, considering the way his slacks hugged his athletic build, they most likely were as well. The man’s warm blue eyes took us in at a glance and a slow smile curved his lips.
“Hel-lo, gorgeous!”
“Um . . . hi,” I stammered, glancing at Nicky, a little taken off guard by the enthusiastic compliment.
The man flashed a smooth, swoon-worthy grin. “Well, you are an adorable little dish, sweetie,” he said, “but I was actually talking to Nicky. How the hell are you, you tasty hunk of man?”
Oh. Got it.
My face flooded with warmth at my gaffe.
Nicky just chuckled and shook the man’s hand. “I’m hangin’ in there, my friend. How’s business?”
The man rolled his eyes and sagged, exaggerating each motion. “Oh, honey—I am so over Valentine’s Day! No one has any imagination these days. Hearts and diamonds—how appallingly passé!”
“You said it, girlfriend,” piped up a tall, slender man whose neon pink silk button-down was a striking contrast to his java skin. He leaned across the counter and gave Nicky a flirty grin. “Well, well, well. If it isn’t Little Boy Blue. Did you finally decide to come blow my horn?”
“Stop being such a man-whore,” Nicky’s friend scolded. “You know Nicky doesn’t play that way.”
The man sighed dramatically. “A boy can dream.”