After the Dark (Killer Instinct 1)

Blake’s phone beeped. He glanced down and realized he’d just gotten a text from Bass. About time. Quickly, he scanned the short message.

Take care of the press. Sick in hotel.

“What?” Bass never missed a chance to take center stage. Blake immediately called the EAD. The phone rang and rang and—

“Don’t you understand...” Bass gasped. “Sick. Ate...something...bad.”

“We’ve got a swarm of press here—local and national. And you’re vomiting all over your toilet? Get your ass down here.”

“You...handle it. You and...Dark.” The line went dead.

Blake blinked.

“What’s happening?” Samantha asked, her gaze worried.

He shoved his phone back into his pocket. He’d deal with Bass soon enough. For now, reporters were waiting. And they needed the public’s help to find a killer. “You and I are going live.”

“We’re what?” Her jaw seemed to drop.

“Bass said he wanted us doing the press conference. So you’re giving the profile, and I’m asking for the public’s help.” He marched forward and took her elbow so that he could steer her toward the doors that led outside to the waiting ring of reporters. He figured he’d better keep a hand on Samantha, just in case she balked. “We’re doing this right now.” With his left hand, he shoved open the gleaming glass door. He and Samantha walked out, and the reporters closed in.

* * *

JUSTIN BASS VOMITED on the floor. He was as sick as a fucking dog. Everything hurt, and the room kept spinning around him.

“That was really good,” an excited voice told him. “You did that just right.”

Asshole. He spat on the floor once more. Then Justin looked up, his eyes narrowing on the bastard who stood just a few feet away from him.

Young...too damn young. Had to be in his early twenties. His face was round and unlined. A weak chin. His blond hair was sun-streaked, as if the guy had spent a whole lot of time outdoors. Some young preppy asshole. Justin wanted to lift up his fist and drive it right into that guy’s face. But his hands were tied behind his back. His feet were bound, too, and the only movement he could manage right then was the retching.

He needed to get his strength back. He had to figure out where he was, and he had to take down the jerk grinning at him.

But he’s not the real threat. This guy is following orders. Orders that he knew had come from someone else.

Before he’d blacked out in the car, he’d been sure that he recognized the creep who’d been in his backseat, but things were kind of blurry right now and he couldn’t be one hundred percent sure of, well, anything.

“You just... You stay in here,” the blond said. He’d taken Justin’s phone. Not the smartest move, keeping that thing. As long as it was on, the cops could trace the GPS signal. Sure, he’d played along, and he’d told Gamble exactly what the punk said—mostly because the guy had put a knife to his throat—but when he didn’t show up at his hotel in a few hours, his team would come looking for him. They’d trace his phone. They’d find him. And the dumb punk.

He just had to stay alive until then. And hell, he was the fucking executive assistant director...he could manipulate this dumb little shit.

Justin vomited again.

As soon as he got his strength back, he’d go on the attack. He’d get out of this mess, and he’d bring down the man—men?—who’d taken him. If Cameron Latham really was involved...if that memory was right and it hadn’t been the drug playing tricks on him...

Bastard, I will make you pay.

Even if it was the last thing that he did.

* * *

“WE HAVE CREATED a profile for the perpetrator in the death of Tammy White.” Samantha stood at the little podium, and her gaze swept around the assembled reporters. Her heart was pounding like mad in her chest, but her voice didn’t so much as tremble. “We are looking for a white male, in his early twenties, an individual that we believe is still in the area. He’s a highly organized killer, intelligent, fit.” She eased out a slow breath. “At this point, this perp is suspected in the death of a second woman as well, Kristy Wales, of DC.”

The reporters yelled out questions.

Samantha swallowed.

Blake’s shoulder brushed hers. “The FBI has recently identified a person of interest in this case. The individual is Jason Benjamin Burke, age twenty-two, a former student at Georgetown University. I will provide a photograph of him to everyone here. We are asking for the public’s help in locating this individual. Mr. Burke is considered armed and dangerous, so no one, I repeat, no one should approach this man. If you see him, you are directed to call us.” Then he rattled off the local number for folks to use.

Samantha wiped her damp palms on her pants.

“Georgetown University?” That was Janice’s voice ringing out. “That is Cameron Latham’s university.”

The man hardly owned the place.

“So are you confirming this killer’s linked to Latham?” Janice demanded.

The reporters waited. Samantha’s head turned, and she realized that Blake was looking at her, too. He was giving her this moment, letting her take her career back right in front of the press.

Her shoulders straightened. “Yes.” Again, no emotion entered her voice. Her drumming heartbeat began to slow. “We believe that the two individuals are linked. Cameron Latham was Burke’s mentor at the university. It is possible that he knew of Burke’s...darker side.”

“Do you think Cameron Latham is in the area?” Janice’s voice rose with a hint of anxiety.

Samantha began to deny that possibility, but...

The cameras kept rolling.

Is Cameron here? He shouldn’t be. He should have been far, far away. The guy should have fled the US. Gone to a country that didn’t have a friendly extradition agreement with the US. But...he hadn’t. Instead, he’d been hitting his favorite locales over the last few months. He’d been staying just a step ahead of her.

He’d been...

Hiding, in plain sight.

So she told the truth. “I think that is a possibility that cannot be ignored.”

Samantha saw the surprise flash on Janice’s face.

“Cameron Latham is a man who values control in every aspect of his life. If he and Burke did have a close relationship, then, yes, it is possible that Latham is either already in the area or he’s coming.” Her heart rate was a steady beat in her chest. Not too fast, not too slow. “The public should be on the lookout for him, but—” her gaze swept the group “—he will have altered his appearance.” Of that, she was certain. When she’d almost gotten him in Chicago, the desk clerk had told her that Latham had been a redhead. “He would have changed his hair color, his eye color, either put on weight or taken it off. He will have adopted a persona that is very different from the one he had in DC. Cameron Latham knows how to manipulate the people around him. He gets them to see only what he wants shown and he—”

“Did he manipulate you?” Janice wanted to know.

Blake moved toward the microphone.

But Samantha touched his shoulder. She didn’t need protecting. “Yes.” The one word was spoken too close to the mic, and it seemed to echo back to her. “Yes, he did manipulate me. I didn’t see his darker side until the end. But I won’t make that mistake again, and no one else should, either. He is a very dangerous individual. There’s a reason he found his way to the top of the FBI’s most wanted list.” And it’s not just because he made the FBI look like a bunch of dumbasses. Well, that wasn’t the only reason, anyway.

The reporters kept asking questions. She answered them. Blake answered them. Lewis even came forward for his turn at the microphone.

And then Blake raised his hand, indicating that they were done.

They

backed away from the crowd and retreated into the station.

She followed Blake inside, with Lewis at her heels. And Lewis—

“You did good out there, Sammie,” Lewis praised. “I didn’t so much as see you sweat.”

She’d sweated plenty. But she also hadn’t backed down. She was more than just the agent who’d slept with the wrong man once upon a time. She was the agent who was going to nail Jason Burke to the wall.

And one day, I’ll bring in Cameron.

They strode down the hallway, moving away from the glass doors.

Footsteps padded behind them, and she turned to see Josh Duvane tailing them. When he saw her, he lifted a brow. “So you really think Latham is here?”

Her breath slid out. “Yes, I really do think that.”

“Since when?” Blake demanded, voice tight. “How long have you thought the joker was here?”

“He may not be here yet, but I believe he’s coming.”

All of them were focused on her. She shrugged. “It’s because of me.”

Lewis frowned. “Now hold on...”

“The bombing. The attack that nearly killed me.” She rubbed the back of her neck, hating the tension that had gathered there. “Janice reported on the story. I already know the national news picked up that little scene she filmed at my house. I think we’ve all seen the footage of Blake and me coming out of my place.”

Blake winced.

“Cameron would have seen it, too.” A mocking smile curled her lips. “He always said it was important to stay updated on current events. He would have seen the news, and when he realized I was almost hurt in that bombing, he would come here.”

“To finish the job on you?” Josh asked, nodding. “The story revealed your location, something that has been kept quiet for a long time and—”

“Cameron would have known I was here from the beginning.” Her hands were loose at her sides. “And he wouldn’t be coming to kill me.” Her gaze met Blake’s. “He’d be coming...to protect me.”

She saw surprise flash on his face. Surprise, then understanding.

“He couldn’t kill you,” Blake murmured. “Not then, not now.”

“He can’t kill me,” Samantha corrected. He tried. “And he’s not going to let anyone else do it, either.”

Josh threw his hands into the air as he started to pace. “Okay, I am beyond confused. You’ve got some serial out there who—what? Is playing guardian angel for you? ’Cause that’s twisted. Even with the weird crap we see on a daily basis, that is some twisted—”

“Cameron thinks he needs me.” She was staring at Blake when she said those words. You’re right. I have let you in. I’m not keeping any other secrets. “I’m the only person in the world he’s ever connected with. If he believes I’m in danger, he will act to take out any threat to me. He can’t form a connection with another person, and if he loses me, then Cameron fears he will be truly alone.”

Lewis whistled. “So this Burke guy that we’re all after...he thinks that Latham is his mentor, his good killing buddy, but really...”

She needed them to all understand this point. “Really, Cameron Latham is his greatest threat. If he has the chance, I believe he’ll kill Jason Burke. But Jason doesn’t realize that. He won’t see the threat coming, not until it is far too late.”

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

THE BED-AND-BREAKFAST was nice—very nice. Fancy and pricey and currently it was her new home-away-from-home.

Samantha paced near the four-poster bed. The authorities had cleared her house, but Blake had been adamant that she wasn’t returning. At least, not that night. He’d even gone so far as to pull rank on her—that FBI protective custody bull again.

She could have argued with him, she knew that, but she also knew that she wanted a safe place to crash. She was exhausted, and when she slept, she wanted to feel safe.

The bed-and-breakfast was close enough to town so that when the ME was finished with his exam, she and Blake would be able to get to his office within ten minutes. Close to the action, but off the beaten path, so that they wouldn’t attract attention from reporters.

Local patrol units were out canvasing for Burke and for Cameron. A manhunt was taking place in the surrounding two-hundred miles. While all of that was going down, Samantha was just supposed to wait out the night.

The problem was that Samantha had never been particularly good at waiting.

A knock sounded at the door—the door that connected her room to Blake’s. She’d been highly conscious of him in that room, of every whisper of sound and pad of his footsteps. At the knock, she hurried forward and opened the door. It hadn’t been locked, a deliberate choice on her part.

He stood in the doorway, wearing a pair of jeans, his dark hair glinting with moisture. She’d heard the roar of his shower, and she’d actually thought about joining him in there.

Things were so...tense between them. She wasn’t sure what she was supposed to be doing. How was she supposed to act? She’d given him her most closely guarded secret, expecting the guy to turn on her, but he hadn’t.

“Wanted to check on you,” Blake said, his deep voice making her breath catch. “Before you went to bed.”

Checking on her. Right. How very gentlemanly of him. She wasn’t in the mood for that. Not after her day. Not even close. “I’m fine.” Her words sounded a little angry even to her own ears. Oh, well, why pretend? He’d been the one to say no secrets.

“Something wrong?”

She rolled back her shoulders. “Yes, I think so.” She’d showered earlier, too, wanting to wash away the day. But some sins didn’t wash away. She was clad in a pair of loose shorts and a T-shirt. She’d thought the shorts did a good job of showing off her legs, and she hadn’t put on a bra, deliberately. She’d thought she at least looked semi-sexy. Apparently not, since Blake was there, just seeing if she was okay before bed. What had happened to the fierce need they shared at the police station? The whole promise of what would happen once they were away from prying eyes? She wanted his passion. Hot, wild, intense. She didn’t want him handling her with kid gloves.

Blake stepped toward her. Samantha held her ground, refusing to retreat. Her head tipped back as she stared up at him.

“You going to share?” Blake pushed. “Or do I get to guess what’s spinning through your head right now?”

She’d share plenty. “You don’t have to look after me every moment. You don’t have to constantly check to see if I’m going to break. I’m not.”

His brows rose. “That wasn’t what I was doing.”

Liar, liar. “I see you. I see you when you’re watching me, and you think I don’t know.”

He laughed. A low, deep chuckle. “You think I watch you because I’m afraid you’re about to shatter?”

She licked her lips. His gaze had heated as he followed the quick movement of her tongue. “Is there another reason?”

“Baby, it’s always hard as fuck to take my eyes off you. You’re gorgeous.”

She tucked a strand of loose hair behind her ear.

“I look at you, and I ache. You’re under my skin. In my dreams. I can’t escape from you.”

That didn’t sound good. “Do you want to escape?”

“Hell, no.”

That was, ah, better.

His gaze swept over her—and it was hot. Very, very hot. Demanding. That stare lingered on her breasts—her nipples were tight and thrusting against the front of her shirt—and her legs. About time you noticed. “I told you what you’d be when I got you alone.”

Yes, he had.

Mine.

And she wanted to be. She wanted to be his, and she wanted him to be hers. She wanted to let go and forget the killers at the door. Just for a moment. The ME would call, they’d get an update

on the case, then it would be back to work.

Stolen moments—that was what they had. What they might always have.

Staring up at him, she reached for the hem of her T-shirt. She yanked it over her head and tossed it to the floor.

His lips parted.

She reached for her shorts. Pushed them down. Then Samantha stood before him, completely naked. Waiting.

“You’re...beautiful.” His voice was rougher. Darker.

You like the—

She shut that voice out of her mind. There was no room for Cameron. It was just her and Blake. Only them.

“Your turn,” Samantha said, and her voice had gone husky.

She thought he’d strip for her. But he came toward her, scooped her into his arms, held her tight and kissed her. Kissed her with that wild hunger that she loved. The ferocious need that told her he was desperate for her.

She wanted him that way.

She wanted to be that way. And she was, with him. With Blake, she felt sexy. She felt...normal. A woman with her lover. A woman who could trust.

He carried her to the four-poster bed. He put her down on it, and she gave a little bounce. A laugh came from her. God, she only seemed to laugh with Blake. Her emotions were like a well that had gone dry except when he was near. He was bringing her back to life, and she didn’t even know if he realized that fact.

“Missed that sound.” His eyes glittered down at her. “I missed you.”

“You don’t have to miss me anymore. I’m right here.” She rose onto her knees. Her hands wrapped around his shoulders as he stood at the side of the bed, and she kissed him, a long, sensual kiss. She slid her tongue over his lip, then caught that sexy lower lip of his in a light nip.

He growled.

Her hands slid between their bodies. She caught the snap of his jeans and unhooked them. The zipper slid down with a low hiss, and the hot, hard length of his erection thrust into her hands. He’d been the one to seduce her before. Samantha figured this was her chance now. She stroked the length of his erection, moving from base to tip, again and again. He was full, so thick and hot in her hands. His breath blew out as she stroked him. She kissed his chest, moving her body down, moving her mouth down, and then she pressed her lips to his cock.