“Bring your dancing shoes,” he said.
I snorted in disgust, and his laughter followed me out the door. Damn him to hell, I thought, and fleetingly wished I hadn’t argued with Lucian. It would have been nice to ease the ache of desire in his arms. I could always go to Franklin’s, a discreet up-market wolf club I often used at times like this, but even as that thought crossed my mind, my nose was wrinkling. The club had lost some of its appeal lately—mainly because Lucian had a sexual repertoire my usual partner at Franklin’s had no hope of competing with.
Azriel appeared beside me as I walked up the road to the taxi stand. “The face-shifter theory is an interesting one.”
His voice was still very formal, and irritation swirled. But did I really want the easygoing, warm version when desire raged so badly inside me? Yes, that insane part of me whispered. Most definitely. I ignored it and said, “It would certainly explain why no one can find Nadler.”
“If he is being so cautious with who sees him, it is also probable that he is not only keeping an eye on his lawyer’s movements, but he would have ensured that the lawyer could not actually describe him.”
I stopped and looked at him. “Mind tampering?”
He nodded. “It’s possible.”
“But that implies our fake Nadler is more powerful than we’d thought.” And probably more dangerous, although his actions with the soul stealer gave more than enough warning about the lengths to which he was willing to go.
“Exactly,” Azriel said. “I do not think it wise for Jak to accompany you to this ball.”
“There’s no way in hell he’s going to remain behind. He wants this story, Azriel.”
“Maybe so, but that is neither here nor there. Do you agree that it would be better for him not to appear?”
I frowned. “Yes, but if we stop him, he’ll be furious.” And knowing Jak as well as I did, I had no doubt he’d pursue the story without us, and that, ultimately, could be even more dangerous. At least this way we had some control over his actions.
“He can be stopped and yet still think he was there,” Azriel commented.
My gaze searched his for a moment—although why, I have no idea, given that he was still in retreat mode. “So you’ll keep him at home somehow, but feed him false memories afterward?”
“Yes.”
“Won’t work. He’s a reporter, and reporters talk. He’ll discover soon enough that no one can remember seeing him there and he’ll suspect I’ve done something.”
Azriel raised his eyebrows. “But what if—as far as everyone was concerned—he did appear?”
Meaning he’d become Jak? “How is that going to keep him safe? I mean, for all intents and purposes, everyone will think he was there.”>“It still doesn’t make his lack of siblings or relations that unusual.”
“If he was a much older man, I’d agree. But he isn’t and it just feels wrong.”
“So you think he’s been bumping off his relatives?”
He grinned again. “What I suspect is something far more exciting than just a spot of family bloodletting.”
I couldn’t help smiling at the excitement lighting his features and churning the air. He really did get turned on by this sort of intrigue—and it was damnably hard not to react to it.
“So, hit me with it,” I said in a wry voice. “Or are you intending to drag out the suspense as punishment for me not submitting to your werewolf wiles?”
“Well, damn, I hadn’t actually thought of that—”
I punched his shoulder lightly and he laughed. Just for a moment, it felt like old times.
“What I suspect,” he said, softly and rather melodramatically, “is that while our John Nadler might not be a ghost, he could be the next best thing.”
I gave him a deadpan look. “I will resort to greater violence if you don’t get on with it.”
He laughed again, and the sound ran across my senses like a summer rain, warm and inviting. “I think what we’re looking for is not just a man but rather something a whole lot more. John Nadler, I suspect, is a face-shifter.”
Chapter 6
I blinked in surprise. “But they test DNA at birth. If he wasn’t human, then it would have been discovered. Mistakes like that just aren’t made.”