No, just the thought that she was discounting Silver's power was disconcerting. She was becoming too confident of him.
The hell she was. How many doubts about him had attacked her since she'd woken today? But she'd dismissed them almost immediately.
Because she wanted him to be one of the good guys. She wanted to trust him. Oh, shit.
She pushed aside the tray and jumped out of bed. Stop fretting. Last night had been bizarre and unsettling and she was craving both explanations and reassurance. She probably had time to wash her face and brush her teeth before he showed up. She needed to feel alert and pulled together before she faced him.
Fat chance. She hadn't felt confident and pulled together since the moment she had met Silver.
Silver was staring down at her breakfast tray when she came out of the bathroom ten minutes later. “You ate almost your entire breakfast. Good.”
“I'm glad you approve.” She dropped down on the bed and shoved her feet into her slippers. “How is Gillen?”
“Not good. I may have to go see him. I can't put him off much longer.” He sat down in the easy chair. “How are you today?”
“You sound like a shrink. I'm fine. Just fine.”
“Stop bristling. It was just a question.”
“I'm not Gillen. I don't need your ‘services' to put me back together. There's only one thing I need from you and you didn't give it to me last night.”
“I told you it wouldn't happen overnight. Next time we may make more progress.”
“And we may not. If you're going to have to wait until I go to sleep, it may take weeks before—”
“I won't have to wait for REM cycle after we're together the next couple times. It was just easier for the first time. All it takes is for you to relax and I'll be there.”
After we're together. I'll be there. . . .
The words struck her as almost unbelievably intimate. Or maybe it wasn't the words; maybe it was the memory of how she'd felt watching him sleep, his head resting against the trunk of the willow tree. She moistened her lips. “It will be that easy for you?”
“If you help me.”
“You didn't need help last night. You were totally in control.”
“And you resent it.” He sighed. “You can't have it both ways, Kerry.”
She looked away from him. “It scared me. I didn't know I was going to feel like that.”
“Go on.”
“I don't have to go on. You probably know how I—” Her glance shifted back to him. “I felt . . . connected. I felt part of you. You didn't tell me I'd feel like that.”
“It's different every time. I knew there would be intimacy. I warned you about it. I wasn't sure you'd feel the bond. I didn't know I'd feel it.”
“Well, I did feel it, dammit,” she said fiercely. “Will it go away?”
“Probably.”
“When?”
He shrugged. “I'm not sure.”
“Don't tell me that. Has this happened before for you?”
“Twice. When I first started experimenting. Not this strong. Weak. Very weak.”
“Who were they?”
“A ten-year-old boy and an old Italian lady.”
“And what happened then?”
“The old lady died a couple years later. Neither of them even realized the connection was there.”
“And the little boy?”
“It faded.”
“But didn't disappear entirely?”
“No, but it didn't interfere.” He scowled. “You're not the only one involved here. What do you want me to say? I'm not Superman. I don't know everything. Hell, I don't know a tenth of what's going on in your mind. As I said, everyone is different.”
“I don't want it to get any stronger,” she said through her teeth. “Make it stop.”
“I'll try.” He stared directly into her eyes. “But I can't promise. If that doesn't satisfy you, then you'd better opt out right now.”
It didn't satisfy her. But she wasn't about to opt out. She'd gone too far to back away now. “No.” She pulled her gaze away with an effort. “Just try to make it stop. It scares me.”
“You said that before.” He leaned forward and covered her hand with his. “It will be okay, Kerry. We'll find a way to make this work for you.”
His hand was hard and warm against her skin, and she suddenly felt secure and yet . . . not safe.
Disturbed.
Heat.
Oh, Jesus.
She moved her hand and got jerkily to her feet. “I've got to get dressed and go find Sam. He needs to go for a walk.”
“He's in the kitchen.”
“All the more reason to take him for a walk.” She headed for the bathroom. “He's probably been fed nonstop. I'll see you later.”
“Yes.” His tone was abstracted and so was his expression as he slowly rose to his feet. “Later.”
He knew what she was feeling. How the hell could he not know? Close. They were so blasted close that she couldn't take a breath without him knowing. She stopped at the door. “It doesn't mean anything. It's just this . . . togetherness—it doesn't mean anything.”
“I know that,” he said quietly. “You don't have to explain anything to me.”
No, she didn't, she thought in frustration. Because he knew her too damn well. “It will go away. I'll make sure of it.” She slammed the door behind her.
10
I've been having complaints about you, Dickens.” Ki Yong's voice was silky soft. “Trask isn't pleased with you.”
Dickens's hand tightened on his phone. “Then get someone else to do his dirty work. I don't like the idea of risking my neck to please that crazy son of a bitch.”
“You think he's crazy?”
“What do you think?”
There was a silence at the other end of the line. “You may be right. I've noticed signs of instability. But it's of no importance as long as he's kept under control. That's why I have loyal men like you to keep an eye on him.”
“They'll catch him. He takes too many chances. He doesn't give a damn about the risk as long as he makes his kill.”
“He's very clever. He has a chance of doing what he wants and surviving.”
“How many kills? He's lost focus. He took me off Raztov and put me on Kerry Murphy. And then last night he told me to scout around the wharf district for a deserted warehouse.”
“Indeed? How curious. I wonder what he could be planning.”
“Whatever it is, he doesn't give a damn whether I get stung.”
“I'm sure you're wrong. You know too much. He wouldn't want you caught.” He paused. “How much do you know, Dickens? Have you found out where we can find Trask?”
“How could I do that?” Dickens didn't try to hide the frustration in his voice. “When he wants to see me, he doesn't let me know until thirty or forty minutes before the meeting, and it's always a different place. Most of the time he communicates by phone. He's damn careful.”
“There must be some way to do it. If you could arrange a meeting with him on some pretext, I would be very grateful. And you would become very rich.”
“You've told me that before. He won't go for it.”
“Continue to try. The ideal situation would be to have him willing and cooperative, but I don't want him caught by the authorities. The simplest way to prevent that from happening is to take him off the scene.”
“Before he makes his kills?”
“I don't care about his revenge. I care about plucking the prize he's holding under my nose. I can do that if I can catch him.”
Dickens was sure Ki Yong could. In his dealings with the North Korean, he had always found him to be a cold-blooded son of a bitch. He could almost pity Trask if Ki Yong ever got the upper hand.
Almost.
“I'll do the best I can.” He was silent a moment. “He's got a bug in his ass about Kerry Murphy. I might be able to use her to get to him.”
“Kerry Murphy . . .” Dickens could almost hear the wheels turning in Ki Yong's mind as he went over everything Dickens had reported to him on the woman. “It's possible, I suppose. But there's really no revenge factor involved. Would there be enough emotion involved to spur him to an indiscretion?”