“Well?” I said the minute he slammed the driver’s door closed.
“Your place is being watched,” he said. “It’s lucky for the both of us I parked so far from your building; otherwise your presence in my company would be immediately reported.”
“The sindicati?”
“Yes.”
Meaning it wasn’t just lucky for us, but lucky for Jackson. I had no doubt they’d kill him if they had the slightest inkling I’d talked to Sam. And though it wasn’t at all surprising that they were watching me, it was damn inconvenient.
“I’m gathering you didn’t bother doing anything about him?”
“No. They’d simply put another in his place. At least we’re now aware of this one.”
I frowned. “He can’t be very good if you picked him out so easily.”
“A comment that suggests you think my policing and observation skills aren’t up to scratch.”
“No, that’s not what I meant—”
He waved the rest of my comment away. “As it turned out, I didn’t spot him. Not at first. It was his brief attempt to read me that gave the game away.”
“So was he a vamp or a psychic?”
“Vamp. He was wearing too many layers for a warm building.”
I raised my eyebrows. “Why would a vamp be pulling watch duty during the day? Surely a wolf would be more suited?”
“They would, but telepathic wolves are rare.”
“Even so, there’s twenty-four-hour security in the foyer. I can’t imagine any of the guards—”
“It was the guard,” he cut in.
“No—”
“Yes.” He raised an eyebrow. “Or are you saying you know them all personally?”
“Well, of course not, but after so many years of seeing the same faces, I have formed a casual, how’re-the-kids-type friendship.”
“And yet you noticed neither the new guard nor that he’d appeared one day after your boss was killed. Which doesn’t say a lot about your observation skills.”
No, it didn’t. But then, why would I be on the lookout for something like that? It wasn’t until very recently that I’d even become aware of the sindicati’s involvement in all this crap.
“I’m not the cop in this little game. You are,” I snapped back. “And I would have thought—given your goons are still following me about—that background checks would have been performed on all those I interacted with.”
“They are. Unfortunately, that vampire is using an assumed name—Michael Venton. And Venton checked out.”
He might have checked out, but he wasn’t one of the guards I was familiar with—and I probably wouldn’t have any chance to do so now, given the remains of the real Venton were probably buried deep in the countryside somewhere. Maybe even the same countryside in which I’d woken.
I scrubbed a hand across my eyes again. The hobnailed folk had calmed down a little, but I was still in serious need of some painkillers. And a hot shower. And several decent mugs of green tea followed by the biggest block of chocolate I could buy. It had been that sort of day. Unfortunately, it wasn’t over yet.
“So how did you explain your presence there?”
“I didn’t. I simply flashed the badge, said I needed to talk to you, and asked if he knew whether you were home. When he said he wasn’t sure, I went up and banged on your door. Naturally enough, you didn’t answer.”
I half smiled. “A fact he would have seen on the security cams.”
“No doubt. It does mean we have a problem, however. I can’t get in there to get that notebook and—if you do—you can bet your life that vamp is going to find a way to relieve you of it.”
I frowned. “Why would they do that when we’ve already made a deal to exchange the book for Jackson?”
“They’re a crime syndicate.” Sarcasm filled his voice. “They don’t give a rat’s ass about convention or rules, and they always stack the odds in their favor.”
They might be the biggest, baddest things out there—other than the red cloaks, that was—but that didn’t mean they were without their own rules and laws. Hell, the vampire who’d been sent to collect me from Sherman Jones had been courteous to a fault, and even the vamp who’d tasted me in that darkness had been nothing other than polite.
But being polite didn’t mean they couldn’t also be double-crossing bastards.
“Which has left us with only one course of action, and it means we’re both going to have to take a bit of a risk.”
“I’m not letting you go—”
“But you already have.” Once again the comment was out before I could stop it, and it was filled with the bitterness that still lurked deep inside. I silently cursed myself and quickly added, “We both know you—or at least your department—could make my life hell, so the sooner this is over with, the quicker we can go our separate ways.”
“But that vampire—”
“Look,” I cut in, a touch impatiently. “The sindicati will be expecting me to go home. If I don’t, it’ll only raise suspicions and perhaps endanger Jackson.”
He snorted. “That’s not exactly a winning argument. Not given my already-expressed feelings where the Fae and the notebook is concerned.”
“Maybe, but they’re not likely to do anything until I’ve found the notebook and made contact. Until I do that, we have time to maneuver.”
“And just how do you plan to get back here with the notebook? If you attempt to leave, you can bet your ass that vamp will try to grab it.”
“Only if he sees me leave, which he won’t. Security cams monitor the inside of the building, not the outside, remember. I’ll simply take fire or firebird form and leave from the balcony.”
“Which means exposing your true self to possibly hundreds of people in nearby buildings, as you said before.”
“I’m well aware of that, Sam.” But it was worth the risk if it saved Jackson’s life.
He studied me for several seconds, then tore his gaze away. The muscle along his jaw had gone into serious overtime, but there was little other emotion to be seen.
“Okay,” he said, voice flat. “We do it your way. But if you’re not back in twenty minutes, I’m coming in.”
“Make it an hour, because I need a damn shower.” I got out. It was pointless to do anything else, and arguing with him wasn’t going to get me anywhere. It never had.
It didn’t take me long to get home, but it took every ounce of willpower I had to do nothing more than give the guard a polite nod in greeting as I walked by.
But I could feel his gaze boring into my spine long after I’d entered the elevator, and I had no doubt his gaze was glued to the monitor screens as I headed for my apartment.
“Rory? You here?” I said as I opened the door.
“Certainly am.” He appeared around the corner, his hair wet and a towel wrapped around his waist. “You didn’t pass Sam on the way up, did you? He was here banging on the door a few minutes ago, but disappeared before I could answer.”
“That’s because it was a ruse for the guard downstairs.”
He frowned. “Why?”
I locked the door and began stripping as I walked toward our flameproof room. “Because the guard downstairs is sindicati. If they see me with Sam, or believe he’s working with me, they’ll kill Jackson.”
“And is Sam working with you?”
I half smiled. “No. Quite the opposite. He wants the missing notebook, as does the sindicati.”
“So who are you giving the notebook to? Sam or the sindicati?”
“Sam’s getting the notebook. The sindicati are getting the laptop.” I grabbed his hand and tugged him into the room. “But right now, you and I need to flame.”