Penumbra (Spook Squad 3)
Jessie shared a look with her husband, concern evident. Alain leaned forward, interlacing his long fingers. “Stephan’s not going to like that.”
“Stephan doesn’t have to know.”
Jessie smiled slightly. “You can’t keep secrets from Stephan. None of us can. He has a nose for secrets.”
Well, this was one secret he’d better keep his nose well out of or there would be hell to pay. “Look, Stephan’s assigned Sam to the Wetherton case. He’s hoping her presence will draw Sethanon out. But I think it’s more likely to draw out Hopeworth.”
Alain’s frown deepened. “Why would Hopeworth be interested in her?”
“Hopeworth’s been playing in the genetic sandbox for years, and Sam is more than likely one of their creations. And even if she’s not, she’s caught their interest.”
Jessie picked up her mug and regarded him steadily over the rim. “Why didn’t you just keep her as a partner? You wouldn’t have had this problem then.”
“My partners have a bad habit of dying.” He hesitated and rubbed his eyes again. Andrea might have died by an assassin’s bullet, but Mike’s death had been his responsibility. He’d fired the killing shot. “I prefer to work alone. You know that.”
A small smile touched her lips. “What I know, brother dearest, is that you’re using your fear as an excuse.”
He raised an eyebrow. “An excuse for what?”
“I remember a man holding the woman who was both his girlfriend and his partner in his arms and vowing to never let another woman come so close to his heart. A promise he has kept, until now.” She hesitated, green eyes regarding him steadily. “Sam threatens that vow because you know, deep down, that she is the one for you. That’s why you got rid of her.”
Though an empath, his sister could sometimes be surprisingly off base. He frowned and sipped his coffee. There was some truth in her words, though. He did have a connection with Sam, and he was definitely attracted to her. But as much as he might occasionally hunger for it, he really didn’t want emotional complications of any kind in his life. That was part of the reason he continued to block Stephan’s thoughts. Why he was so comfortable with Sandy, another SIU officer and his sometime lover. She wanted no commitment, no emotion, beyond friendship.
As for Sam being the one…He put down his mug and tried to ignore the ache in his heart.
“Andrea was my destiny, my life mate. Not Sam. Whatever I feel for Sam, it could never evolve into something that lasts. My heart died with Andrea.”
“Are you so sure, lad?” Alain said, his deep voice holding a touch of compassion.
“Yes.” At least Alain understood. Jess, and the rest of his family, probably never would. They weren’t shapechangers, and weren’t cursed with the knowledge that there could be only one permanent mate for them—ever.
Jessie sniffed. “Andrea was your first love, Gabriel. Don’t be so certain that what you felt then was life-altering.”
“Look, I came here to ask for help, not to be emotionally dissected.”
Jessie placed a hand on his, squeezing gently. “I’m sorry.” She hesitated, her face losing animation, her green eyes suddenly clouded, distant. “Sam is one half of a force—light to his shade. You are her anchor, her reality. Push her away and you force her into his circle of influence.”
“Whose ci
rcle?” Gabriel said softly.
Jessie blinked. Warmth returned to her face and her eyes. She rubbed her arms and smiled ruefully. “I’m sorry. The vision’s gone.”
Gabriel cursed silently. Perhaps he shouldn’t have spoken. Her visions were fragile at the best of times. “Will you help me?”
She glanced at Alain and nodded. “But I wouldn’t hold much hope of keeping this from Stephan for too long.”
“Let me worry about Stephan.” Gabriel gulped down the rest of his coffee and rose. “I’ll head to the office now and grab a copy of Wetherton’s schedule. I’ll email the roster once I work it out. Hopefully, between the three of us, we can keep her out of Hopeworth’s hands.”
—
Sam shoved her hands in the pockets of her jacket and leaned a shoulder against the bus shelter wall. Across the width of Exhibition Street, people were beginning to file out of Her Majesty’s Theatre, and reporters jostled with spectators for the best position to view the exiting celebrities. Limos lined the curb, waiting for their passengers.
It was the perfect place to attempt an assassination. With the noise and the milling crowd, it was unlikely anyone would notice anything until it was too late. As yet, though, there was no sign of anything untoward.
The latest teen sensation came into sight, his blond head promptly disappearing amongst the crowd of waiting paparazzi and fans. Two seconds later, Wetherton came into view and was greeted by resounding indifference.
He wasn’t happy about it, either, if the look on his face was anything to go by. He hovered near the doors for several minutes, then roughly grabbed the woman by his side and guided her away. Three others followed in their wake—two men and another woman—as Sam pushed away from the bus shelter wall. Wetherton’s chauffeur hadn’t been quick enough to grab a good position, so he was waiting half a block away.