“I know,” Pagan said with a giggle. “He’s absolutely perfect.”
“But aren’t you worried about his . . .” the sister continued somberly.
“His what?” Pagan prompted.
“Well, his infidelities.”
His fiancee scoffed, and his admiration for her tripled. “He and I have an open relationship. He tells me when he’s going to be with someone else, and I extend him the same courtesy.”
“What! You’ve been with other men?” the sister gasped out.
“He thinks so, yes.”
“But you actually haven’t?” the girl insisted.
“No.”
“But . . . why would you want him to think so? Isn’t he jealous?”
“First, men want what other men want. Second, no, he isn’t.”
Was that bitterness in her tone?
“But what if he falls in love with one of his affairs?” the sister asked.
“Blue? Fall in love?” Pagan snorted. “No matter how much he smiles and teases, that man is emotionally shut off. But, okay, let’s say he does the impossible and falls in love. So what? I’ll be his wife and the mother of his children. He’ll never leave me.”
A crack in the door allowed him to peer into the living room where the girls sat, sipping wine. Pagan wore a skintight dress that stopped just below the line of her panties. If she was even wearing panties. Most nights she wasn’t. Her voluminous breasts practically spilled from her halter top, just the way she knew he liked. Her skin was a perfect golden brown, bronzed by a reverent sun. Sexy. A chic crop of platinum hair framed a face most men would only ever see in their wet dreams.
She wasn’t under attack, as he’d feared. He should leave. If he revealed himself, she wouldn’t recognize him. Who would? He might be able to convince her of his identity, but she would insist on taking him to the hospital. He couldn’t risk it.
Right now, the person responsible for his condition might assume he was dead. It would be better for Blue —and Pagan—if that person continued to assume so.
Now, at least, he knew Pagan hadn’t been targeted.
Where could he go?
Who could he trust?
Who had tried to kill him? And why?
And where were his friends? Had they survived?
They must have. He wouldn’t believe anything else.
Darkness . . . weaving through his vision . . .
He had to get somewhere, and fast, before he once again lost consciousness. There was a good chance he wouldn’t be waking up anytime soon.
No one playing for the Invaders knew of his other job. Only Michael, John, and Solo did—no, that wasn’t true. Evie knew.
Would she help?
Would he harm her when she irritated him? Because she would definitely irritate him. If he lost control of his abilities . . .
Blue labored to his feet, moaning as the agony became too much.
He heard a startled gasp. “Who’s in there?” Pagan called, sounding worried.
Without a word, he climbed through the window into the daylight.
Three
EVIE STOMPED INTO HER bedroom and threw her purse in the general direction of her closet. Key to the basement, that’s what she needed. But where had she put the bloody thing?
“Light on,” she said, the darkness instantly chased away by the overhead lamp. She—
Screamed, and reached for the blade she always tucked inside her pocket.
A hideous creature sprawled on her lovely king-size bed. Whatever it was, it was male, and big.
The scent of smoke wafted through the air, stinging her nostrils.
“Evie,” the creature said on a moan. “Blue.”
Shock slammed through her. He spoke with Blue’s voice, and even mentioned his name. And . . . and . . . he was peering at her with Blue’s eyes. That gorgeous lavender, usually framed by long black lashes that made him look as though he always wore eyeliner.
“Blue?” she gasped out. No way. Just no way.
“Didn’t know . . . where else . . . to go.”
Hesitant, she approached the side of the bed. He watched her every movement, reminding her of a predator getting ready to attack. What would he do when she was within reach? Because it
“I must say, Mr. Blue, you’ve looked better.”
He might have snorted. Hard to tell while he was gurgling blood.
“How did you get in here?” An alarm should be screeching right now.
“Window. Disabled . . . security. Inside and out. Sorry.”
She craned her neck, zeroing in on the interior ID box. Sure enough, the lid had been pulled from the wall and the wires exposed, obviously cut and realigned. “That’s going to cost a fortune to fix.” But only because she would be doing the labor, and her time was mega money, and oh, wow, she really needed a moment to process what was going on.
“Bill . . . me,” he gritted. “First . . . help me.”
“Sure, sure,” she said. “I’ll ring the Arcadian chief of medicine at St. Anthony. Nice guy. Usually a three- month waiting time to see him, but for me he’ll make a house call. You will, of course, be responsible for your bill, as well as owe me a huge favor.”
“No. You.”
She got what he was trying to tell her, but wished she hadn’t. For a year straight, this man had screwed with her anytime they were forced to work together. Nothing overt, and nothing that would compromise the end result of the work—his work, that is. He’d left her behind. Told her wrong places to meet, stuck her with all kinds of paperwork. Worst of all, he’d
The gist of every review? Miss Black stinks like arse.
She’d seen him a few times since Claire was killed, when she’d acted as an asset. He’d always ignored her, as if she were unworthy of his attention, and made a big deal of making out with his date. Whoever that happened to be.
The suckwad treatment cut to the quick, even though she hated the guy. Like she really needed another male to drive home the point that she wasn’t good enough—for anything! And for a conceited man-whore to do it? A male willing to hump anything that moved? Bloody humiliating.
“Ignoring?” he said now. “Typical.”
