you dead.”
Annabelle gazed up at Adam and found herself lost in the blue of his eyes. Something about his words, about his presence, at that very moment, had the strangest effect upon her. She found herself warming beneath him. She felt… light headed. And she wasn’t certain it was all from fear.
She wanted to speak, but her mouth had gone a little dry. She licked her lips, and Adam’s gaze flickered to her mouth.
“What does he look like?” She found herself asking. Of all the things she wanted to know, that was the one she chose? She couldn’t explain it. But what was said was said.
Adam slowly cocked his head to one side, and the corners of his mouth turned up in a smile. He straightened, moving away from her and taking a step back from the table.
Annabelle took the opportunity to sit up. She did so slowly, propping herself up on her elbow with one arm and holding the blanket to her chest with the other. Her long hair spilled all around her, a few wavy strands cascading in front of her face as she turned onto her side to face Adam.
He watched her as if fascinated by her every move.
She shivered.
Adam noticed. His smile broadened, but he chose not to comment. Instead, he turned his back on her and walked to a set of shelves against one wall. “Got something for you, angel.” As he moved, Annabelle had a chance to study him.
He was dressed in black from head to toe, and the color blended in with his hair, making him appear almost ethereal. Like a vampire or a ghost. But whereas Jack normally dressed to ride, Adam was more of the SWAT persuasion.
He looked lean and hard but his build was not as large as Jack’s. It was like the difference between a wolf and a coyote. Jack was a wolf, but Adam was fast and sneaky. And in the Business, that was far more deadly than a good set of fangs.
She noticed, now that she had a moment to look, that his hair was not touched by any gray as Jack’s was. She would place him in his late thirties, maybe. Or, he just had amazingly good hair.
Laying atop the shelves against the wall was a manila folder. Adam retrieved the folder and then turned back around to face Annabelle. She found herself gripping the blanket tighter as she quickly got down from the table and stood on somewhat wobbly legs on the other side, the table between her and her dark visitor.
Adam watched her for a moment and then slowly strode back across the room toward her. Annabelle surprised herself by not stepping back as he approached.
He looked a little surprised as well.
And then he held the folder out and let it drop onto the massage table between them.
She glanced down at it. It bore no external markings. “What is it?”
“Osborne’s file,” Adam said. “It was given to Jack.”
She looked up at him.
He shrugged. “Thought you might like a look at the man pulling all the strings.” His expression turned more meaningful and something nasty flashed in the depths of his eyes. “I’m not surprised that Jack hasn’t shown it to you, luv. He never was one for egalitarianism.”
Annabelle gazed warily at him for a moment. And then she swallowed again and decided to ask another question. “Is Simon all right?”
Adam wasn’t phased. “He’s alive, if that’s what you’re askin’, angel.”
And that was all she was going to get from him.
She looked back down at the folder. Ever so slowly, she reached up and opened it, allowing it to spread on the table between them. The first thing Annabelle noticed was the black and white photograph clipped to a bunch of print-outs beneath it.
It was a black man wearing dark glasses, dressed in an expensive suit.
“Oh my God,” she said, staring wide-eyed at the picture. “It’s Mackenzie.”
Adam said nothing. But when she looked back up at him, the expression he wore was one of such knowing, that Annabelle couldn’t help but put the puzzle pieces together.
“That’s where I’ve seen you before,” she muttered. “At Mackenzie’s office. When Max and I went to meet with him…” She shook her head, images spinning before her mind’s eye. She saw Mackenzie – Godrick Osborne – talking with Max, telling him that he wanted more done on the site, more pictures, more text, more everything. The job had gone on far longer than it should have, but the contract kept Max and Annabelle slaves to whatever Mackenzie wanted… Whatever
And what he’d wanted all along was Teresa’s laptop.
He’d been waiting for Max to find it. Or, maybe he was trying to get a lay of the land so that he could send someone in after it.
“Oh my God,” Annabelle repeated, at awe with the truth of the situation. She’d seen Adam, on the sidelines, while at the Mackenzie building. Now that she thought back, she recalled that their eyes met. For just an instant. “It wasn’t ‘the Mackenzie’ building at all. It was the lab…” The secret lab where Brandt’s cure had been created.
Annabelle hugged the blanket more tightly around her. Her arms were covered in goose bumps. “When I saw you,” she said, “were you there on your own, or had Osborne already hired you?” Her voice was barely more than a whisper. It was all she could manage.
Adam’s ice blue eyes glittered in the firelight. He looked like he was thoroughly enjoying the play of emotion that was crossing Annabelle’s delicate features.
“You were the only one who saw me that day, angel,” he told her. His own voice had dropped as well. “Osborne never knew I was there.”
“Oh.” She didn’t know what else to say.
Adam laughed. It was actually a very pleasant sound. She’d half expected anything Adam Night did to be maniacal – to remind her of the Joker or something. But Jack had understated much about Adam Night. Including how charming he was.
“You’d best get dressed, luv.” He moved so fast, she didn’t see it. But he pressed something underneath the massage table, and the entire thing collapsed in on itself, falling to the floor. Annabelle jumped as it hit, and Adam stepped over the table to close the distance between them.
She took several steps back. Again, he wasn’t phased. He just continued to smile and come forward, effectively backing her into the wall behind her.
“If you’re going to have any hope in Hell of stopping Osborne before he gets to Brandt, you’ll have to move now,” he told her as she hit the wall and stopped in her tracks, eyeing him apprehensively.
Annabelle blinked. Her pulse was racing once more. Her brow furrowed. He wanted her to go after Osborne?
The manila folder was in Adam’s hand. He’d picked it up before he dropped the table. He held it out between them now, dangling it like a carrot before a hungry pony. “Take it, angel. Kill Osborne and you’ll be free of Jack’s hold.”
Annabelle glanced at the folder and then looked back up at Adam.
He went on. “What does he have over you now? Money? Protection?” He laughed then, and it was just as mirthless and empty as Jack’s laugh had been two days ago. “Fat lot of good it did you, eh, luv?” His smile disappeared as his ice blue gaze flicked across her face, to her lips, to the curve of her chin and collarbone and back up again. And then he grew serious. “You’ll never have freedom again, angel, to live your life, to do so much as step foot outside and get on a bike.” His smiled returned for just a moment. “Which I know you so love to do. Nah,” he continued. “He’ll always be there, lording over you.” He shook his head. “Unless…”
Annabelle gazed into Adam’s blue eyes and considered his words. The crazy as hell thing was, he was right. If she had her own money, her own way of hiring people to protect her, she would be able to leave Jack’s shelter. Especially if Osborne was dead. And, if
“Christ,” she said aloud, as she realized that it was a way out. It just wasn’t the one she’d been
