Seeing Tenzin—being near her—caused nothing less than a cascade of hungers, one after the other.
Sexual hunger. He hadn’t taken another lover since they had parted ways, and he was not suited to monasticism.
Blood hunger. His throat burned at the memory of her blood. He’d sampled humans across Asia and Europe now, and none of them touched the taste of her.
Emotional hunger. Maybe the deepest hunger of all. Seeing her the night before had been excruciating. Part of Ben wanted everything to be the same when nothing was. He wanted his best friend back. He wanted Tenzin to be the one guiding him through the complexities of this new body and new life. He wanted his partner.
Instead, the sight of her produced burning resentment and wave after wave of hunger.
Be nice.
Nice wasn’t the word that came to mind.
It’s not personal. It’s business.
Ben sat and examined her openly.
Unlike the previous night, Tenzin was dressed for business. Gone was the blood-red dress and lipstick. She wore a tailored jacket the color of caramel over a maroon tunic. Chocolate-brown leggings and knee-high boots completed a look that Ben knew she had not picked for herself.
“You look professional,” he said. “Did Arthur pick it out?”
She nodded. “I told him I had an important business trip to Europe, and he told me I was not allowed to pick my clothes.”
“Sounds like Arthur.”
She looked down with a small frown. “He did not give me any black clothes. I had to sneak some into my bag.”
“Well, he doesn’t know about flying and the—”
“Bugs.” She smiled. “See? You know now.”
Before he could respond to that, she said, “I ordered a whiskey for you. I saw one on the menu that I remembered you ordering at Gavin’s bar in New York.” She looked up. “I ordered it neat with a glass of ice water on the side.”
What was she doing to him? “That was thoughtful. Thank you.”
She folded her hands on the table, and Ben dragged his eyes from the nape of her neck, which was freshly shorn. She’d trimmed her hair again, the heavy black silk cut at a modern angle from her nape to just below her chin. He watched her hair brush her cheek as the server put two drinks down on the table.
When the server left, she said, “Thank you for meeting me.”
“Thanks for giving me the option this time.”
She raised an eyebrow. “You wouldn’t have agreed to meet with me if I hadn’t ambushed you last night.”
Ben reached for his drink and the ice water, carefully pouring three fingers of cold water into his whiskey. He normally drank it with only a hint of water, but since he’d turned, whiskey was too intense without watering it down. Not that he’d be able to taste much after the rocket fuel he’d ingested last night with Radu.
“At least you admit it was an ambush.”
“Of course it was.”
Ben leaned an elbow on the table. “Do you have an abachee set with you?”
“That game.” The corner of her mouth turned up. “How many times did he make you play?”
“I lost count.”
Tenzin leaned forward and her eyes sparked with amusement. “I bet you lead with your horsemen.”
She was right. “It’s the swiftest offense. I bet you lead with your archers.”
“Always. A long-distance attack endangers the fewest pieces on the board.”
“Archer-led campaigns take forever.”
“I am comfortable playing the long game.”
Yes, you are. Ben cleared his throat and focused. It would do no one any good for them to fall back into old patterns and friendly banter. That wasn’t who they were anymore. “So who wins? You or Zhang?”
She reached for her drink. “I capture his sun god every time.”
“That’s not what he says.”
She waved a hand. “He’s an old man with a horrible memory.”
He cracked a smile, and Tenzin’s eyes went soft. “Hello, my Benjamin.”
Sitting across from her felt familiar and right and it hurt.
Ben swallowed hard. “I’d like to keep this professional, so why don’t we talk about terms?”
“Fifty-fifty, like always,” she said. “Neither of us has a personal stake in the icon.”
“Agreed, but you are bringing the Corsican connection to the table.”
Tenzin waved a hand. “That favor is long overdue. They will be grateful I am calling it in.”
But that left Ben owing her a favor. “I’m comfortable with a fifty-five, forty-five split to account for the value of the favor.”
She watched him. “If that’s what you’d prefer.”
“It is.” He sipped his drink again. “Chloe and I have been going through the correspondence, and you’ve answered some of it yourself. Word has gotten out, and according to her, this is the last job on our books from New York.”
Tenzin nodded. “It is.”
“Given the circumstances, I’m willing to work as your partner on this.” He kept his tone precisely even. He’d practiced before he left his room. “I make no guarantees or offers beyond that. Basically, this is a temporary thing, Tenzin. That means when we finish and I ask you to leave, you leave. And you do not follow me again.”
Her eyes said Or what? but she didn’t say it out loud. “I will agree to that if you agree that we will work openly and honestly as partners for this job. No vendettas. No resentments. No hidden agendas. I know you have anger toward me, but I do not want Chloe and Gavin caught in the middle of our quarrels.”
“Absolutely.” I want to throw you against the wall behind the bar. And maybe fuck you on the ceiling. “This is business.” He sipped his whiskey. “Nothing personal.”
“Agreed.”
“If the four of us are going to work together, you need to fly with us on the plane. We don’t have time to wait for you in every country.”
Tenzin nodded. “That is fine.”
Ben almost spit out his whiskey. Fine? Just like that? He’d had to threaten bodily harm to get her into a truck once! According to his uncle, she’d once punched
