“I didn’t have sex with Tina.”
“No?”
He tried not to squirm. “Technically, no. There was … intimacy. But she offered.”
Vanessa stared at him. “During a client information meeting? How does that work? She updates you on the case and then offers you a parting blow job?”
“There were a few steps in between.”
“I should hope so.”
The words sounded shocked, but her dark eyes glittered with barely contained laughter, leaving Nick feeling like a cheerleader who’s been caught screwing half the football team.
Nick cleared his throat. “If there was a complaint—”
“Far from it. Both agents are eager—very eager—to work with you again.”
“Then if I’ve broken some code of client conduct—”
“If you have, it wasn’t one you were informed of. There’s no issue with your behavior, Mr. Sorrentino.”
He met her gaze. “Then why are we having this conversation?”
She blinked. Silence fell, and now she was the one who looked uncomfortable, as if she’d been called out for gossiping about the cheerleader.
Nick continued. “If there is a problem with my behavior, I apologize. Either way, it will not happen again. Can we move on to my case?”
Vanessa updated him on his case. Nick kept the meeting coolly professional, and she followed suit. She told him what they’d been doing, and he asked questions. All business.
“The main reason I called you here is to tell you we’re following up on a rumor that Malcolm was spotted in Detroit,” Vanessa said. “We heard he’d made contact with a half-demon there, someone he’d worked with at the Nast Cabal.”
“And the reliability of this rumor, on a scale of one to ten?”
“Eight.”
Until now, Nick had been only half processing. The update had seemed like mere customer service, making sure the client knows you’re using his money well.
“Give me the details on this half-demon,” Nick said. “Name. Bio. Address. I can be in Detroit tonight.”
“There’s no need for that. I’ve sent Tina. Once she has visual confirmation of Malcolm Danvers, she’ll report back.”
“That’s not what we agreed on. I said—”
“Yes, I know what you said, and I was told not to argue the point. I did not, however, agree to it. You hired us to find Malcolm Danvers. Once we have accomplished that, he’s all yours. But it’s our job to confirm it.”
“And as the client, I’m relieving you of that responsibility. I have the right—”
“No, I’m afraid you don’t, Mr. Sorrentino. The contract states that we will provide confirmation.”
Nick folded his hands on the table. “I am asking you to reconsider. I would insist, but I would prefer to ask. I’m sure Tina’s a good agent, but Malcolm is unlike any targets she’s had.”
“Tina successfully tracked a werewolf on a mission in Germany. That’s why she’s on this case. She is prepared.”
“For a werewolf. Not for Malcolm Danvers. He’ll be on to her before she gets visual confirmation. He was the best fighter in the North American Pack—”
“Was. Past tense. Very past. Malcolm is eighty-five, Mr. Sorrentino. Yes, I know werewolves age slowly, but he’s an old man.”
“No, he’s not. The Nasts were experimenting with cryogenic freezing. Elena says he doesn’t look much older than Jeremy. So shave off twenty years for that. Shave another twenty for a werewolf’s delayed aging.”
She leaned back, and he could tell she was mentally calling bullshit on the cryogenics. Just as Rhys had. The Nasts were denying it, and even among supernaturals, cryogenics was a little too Star Wars.
“I said Malcolm was the best fighter in his time,” Nick continued. “These days that title goes to Clayton Danvers. Who faced Malcolm nine months ago. Clay would be the first to say it was a real fight. A real challenge.”
“Clayton had just finished dispatching a dozen Cabal security officers. He wasn’t in top condition. The only person Malcolm had fought that day was Elena, who bested him before Clayton arrived.” Vanessa picked up her file and pretended to leaf through it. “I’m sure that’s the story you provided in our intake session. Elena turned Malcolm over to Clayton. They faced off. Clayton won, but he was interrupted by the arrival of the guards. That’s why you hired us. Not because Clayton couldn’t kill him, but because he missed his chance.”
“That doesn’t change the fact that two werewolves fought Malcolm and both agree he’s not a doddering old man—”
“We don’t expect him to be. But you hired us for a job, Mr. Sorrentino. I’m going to ask you to let us finish it.”
“If Tina goes after Malcolm, he will see her coming. If he sees her coming, he will kill her.”
“I disagree.”
“And you’re willing to stake your agent’s life on it?”
“She’s not going to confront him. We’ve established a fifty-yard guideline. Once she receives visual confirmation and provides photographic evidence, Malcolm Danvers is yours. Until then, we have a contract to complete.”
Nick called Elena on his speakerphone. She was in her own car, on her way to get the twins from school.
“I could go over her head,” he said when he finished filling her in. “But I’m not sure Rhys would do anything about it.”
“He won’t,” she said. “If she’s blocking you, it’s on his orders. Rhys might think he’s above stereotyping werewolves as dumb brutes, but he’s sure we have a little too much confidence in our ability to kick the ass of any other supernatural. He thinks we’re an insular group, distrustful of others, and so we’ll want to wrest back control the moment we can.” She paused and he heard her turn signal click as she took a corner. “All of which isn’t exactly untrue. But in this case, we’re not exaggerating the danger. We’ll never convince him of that, though.”
“So, your advice …?”
“If they want to take the risk, we have to trust that they know what they’re doing. They could even be right. Malcolm is the Pack’s bogeyman. Maybe we’ve built him up more than he deserves. You warned them. Now we hang tight and pray they don’t screw this up and lose him.”
An uncomfortable pause as tension zinged along the line, and Nick pictured Elena fighting the impulse to add, “Are you okay with that?” She was Alpha, which meant this wasn’t a democracy. Her word was law. Which was fine with Nick. Elena struggled with it.
“Works for me,” he said, and she gave a soft sigh of relief.
“So, otherwise, what’s up there?” he asked, and they spent the rest of their mutual drives talking.
4. VANESSA
Vanessa Callas had a routine. Once her niece headed to her room to study, Vanessa mixed a gimlet, drew a steaming hot bath, lit a candle, and settled in with a book. Tonight, it was past nine and she was sitting in her hotel room, cell phone by her elbow, trying not to gaze longingly at her novel and the hotel bar menu. The candle she’d brought from home sat on the table. She put her finger to the wick, using her Aduro powers to light it, and then snuffed it out. Lit it. Snuffed it again.
She was waiting for two calls. One anticipated; one dreaded. The anticipated one was from Tina. After Nick Sorrentino left, she’d phoned and told Tina to take the night off. She was sending in Jayne tomorrow, and the two could tag-team confirmation on Malcolm Danvers. Tina hadn’t been pleased, but she’d promised to call once she was checked into her hotel. That had been an hour ago.