Darkness Devours (Dark Angels 3)

Something flickered in her eyes. Shame, perhaps. “I kept it because it annoyed him.”

There was more to it than that, I thought, studying her. “Money.”

She glanced at me sharply. Jacinta Nadler, I suspected, had never been the innocent she portrayed herself to be.

“He paid you to keep it, didn’t he?” It was a guess, but I knew it was right.

She looked away. “I deserved it after what he put me through. And if keeping his name meant I got it, what harm is there?”

“But why would he want you to keep it?”

She snorted. “Why do you think? Men like that never like losing their possessions. At least this way, he retained the illusion of ownership.”

I wondered what other terms she’d agreed to. Wondered what had happened to the money. Surely she wouldn’t be working in a place like this if she still possessed it.

Jak said, “What about Nadler personally?”

She frowned. “What do you mean?”

“Well, did he have any particular habits—”

She snorted. “Aside from smacking the shit out of me, you mean?”

He grimaced. “Yes.”

She frowned. “Not really. Although he did love polo. Used to play it every week.”

“Used to?”

“Yeah. He stopped after the accident. His horse slipped in the mud and came down on top of him. Broke his arm and gashed his ankle pretty bad. He was lucky, though—the only scar he got out of it was from the ankle wound. It would probably be barely noticeable by now.”

Jak smiled at me. If it was barely noticeable, our face-shifter might not have bothered with it. We finally had an identifying mark.

Now all we had to do was actually find him.

I said, “Have you got any photos of him that we could borrow?”

She snorted softly. “I burned every single one of them. Wouldn’t you?”

“Hell, yes.”

She eyed me for a moment, then added, “He’s become something of a recluse of late, but if you want photos you should track down James Blake. He took the wedding photos—you never know, he might have kept them.”

I glanced at Jak. He was already writing the name in his notebook.

“Thanks for your help, Jacinta. We do appreciate it.” I slipped her some cash, and she palmed it with practiced ease.

“Just make sure you burn the bastard good and proper.”

With that, she got up and left. I finished the last of my beer, then handed Jak one of the tickets for the ball. Azriel might be intending to take his place, but I needed to keep up the pretense and not make him suspicious. “We’re at the same table, so I’ll meet you inside around eight.”

He nodded. “Until then, I’ll run a search on the names Jacinta mentioned, and try to uncover some photos of the polo accident.”

“Have fun,” I said dryly as I rose.

He gave me a smile that just about blinded me. “Oh, the fun will happen tonight. I intend to dance your shoes off, my girl.”

And “dancing” just happened to be a wolf euphemism for sex. I snorted softly. “You’re as hopeless as ever.”