way.”
A wicked gleam entered those dark eyes. Heat crawled over her face. He would remember that. “As I recall, that particular dining experience resulted in a few satisfactory exclamations.”
“One, maybe,” she muttered.
A crooked smile touched Sam’s mouth. He held up five fingers. Kelly ducked behind the menu.
“You kept track?”
“Only to set the bar higher,” he murmured.
The waitress set their drinks down. Sweat trickled down Kelly’s temples as she stammered out their orders. When the woman left, Sam squeezed her hand. “Chill, Kel. You look scared as a rabbit in a wolf den. I’m just playing with you, getting you to relax.”
“I can’t. Talk to me. I feel like everyone’s watching me.” She folded and unfolded her napkin. “How did you become a SEAL? Was it as hard as I’ve heard?”
“Worse.” Sam rubbed the back of his neck. “I had a real asshole officer in boot camp. He kept pushing me hard, goading me to drop out.”
“But you didn’t.”
“If I quit, I knew it was a matter of time before I did something stupid, like turning into a feral wolf again. The navy kicked my ass, taught me self-control.”
Kelly looked at him with new respect. “You were never one to take orders.”
“I learned, especially during BUD/S. Even BUD/S was nothing compared to training after I became a SEAL. More training to join Team 21. I had a werewolf, all two hundred pounds and teeth, nearly ripping my throat out. Was worth it to join the Phoenix Force. Damn best bunch of guys I’ve ever known.”
“Sam, what’s going to happen to me when all this is over?”
His gaze was steady. “My orders are to return you to the base first. Erase your memories.”
Panic crept up her throat. “You can’t do that.”
“I have to, Kel,” he said softly. “Just your knowledge of the team.”
And him. “Please, isn’t there some way around it?”
“It’s not so bad,” he said quietly. “Doesn’t hurt. You don’t feel a thing. Not like when you remember the bad things.”
“Our memories make us who we are, even the bad ones.”
Sam gave a very unladylike snort. “Cut the psychobabble. I’d love to erase the past.”
“You’d wipe out all memory of it, including me?”
Raising her chin, she watched his jaw tense. “Not you. Your father. He set that fire on purpose because he hated my family.”
Sam had every right to his anger. Maybe if she told him the truth, it would help him deal, ease his anger. But what if the truth meant hurting him all over again?
“He didn’t hate your mother.”
“Right.”
“I have proof.”
Shock widened his eyes. He slapped his hands on the table, his body quivering, the thin shoulders in the white peasant blouse tensing. “What?”
She hesitated.
“Tell me,” he ordered. “Right now.”
Swallowing hard, she plunged ahead. “A few weeks after the fire I snuck back to check our quarters, see if there was anything I could salvage. My stuff was all in the trash. The Mage authorities had done a thorough search, looking for evidence.”
“Go on.”
“The only thing they hadn’t thrown out was the policies and procedures manual your father issued all Arcane servants. I was going to toss it but decided to go through it. Sometimes Dad wrote notes in the pages, reminders of stuff to do...”
Her throat closed up tight. “Dad had taped a note to the back of a page. Dated Christmas Eve.”
His gaze narrowed. “Handwritten?”
She nodded. “He’d jotted down a task list. Dad was involved in a small, underground group trying to secure equality for Arcanes. FES, the Freedom & Equality Society. And he’d found an ally within the walls of the mansion.”
Kelly clenched her fists until the nails bit tender flesh. “Your mother.”
Sam went very still. “Impossible. What did the list say?”
“It was just notes. Wednesday night, eight-o’clock meeting, FES, execute plan. Target—Chloe Shaymore.” Her heart banged hard against her chest.
He leaned forward. “What else, Kelly?”
“There was a notation. Oil lamp, spill, master bed.”
Red suffused Sam’s face. He swore in a low voice. “The master bedroom, where firemen said the fire originated. A hit list of the first Elemental to kill. My mother.”
“No!” Others glanced at their table. She lowered her voice. “It was a reminder about something. He scribbled those things all the time. Your mother’s name was listed because she was conspiring with him and the FES. Once or twice I saw them whispering together. She went with him to a Wednesday-night meeting.”
His tight expression warned he didn’t believe a word. “Why would my mother, who was queen of the Elemental social set, do something that dangerous? And every Wednesday night she went to her bridge club.”
“And who was her chauffeur? My father. At her tea party, one of her friends talked about how they’d had to cancel bridge until finding new partners. She never went, Sam. Instead, she was with my father at a secret FES meeting.”
Sam was utterly still, looking as if she’d stabbed him in the gut.
“Your mother was essential to his plans to gain more rights for our people. He’d have fought to protect her.”
“He was laughing as he fled. I saw him. Hell, you saw him! Does that sound like a man who wanted to save her?”
“I don’t know! But my father would never hurt anyone.”
“Why the hell are you telling me this now, Kelly?” Sam looked sick.
“I thought it might help you to know my father didn’t hate your family and couldn’t have set the fire.” Kelly reached across the table for his hand, but he drew back.
Muscles taut, he leaned forward, his gaze glittering. “What did you do with this note? Did you turn it over to the Mage authorities?”
“I burned it. I couldn’t risk them jumping to the wrong conclusions and using it to frame him for murder.”
“You protected him.”
“How could I trust them?”
Sam went silent as their food was served. He picked up the fork, pushing the chicken around the plate. “You could have given it to my uncle. He’s fair and just. He’s the one who argued for your release and got you out of jail after the fire. Al has been a voice of reason for all Arcanes.”
“I couldn’t risk it. Elementals aren’t interested in justice, only revenge. They’re all narrow-minded.”
“Does that include me? I’m Elemental,” he asked quietly.
“Of course not! I’d never think of you like that. Trust me, Sam.”
A snort of harsh laughter. “Trust you? Why should I? You’re acting as biased as those windbags on the council, except you’re prejudiced against my people. I see whose side you’re on.”
“I don’t want to take sides.”
“Too late.”
To her dismay Sam booked them a room in one of the town’s motels. Kelly barely noticed the polished tile,
