The elevator never sat down there for this long.
Rafe pressed the call button, but nothing happened.
On a frown, he glanced to the stairwell. He took the steps in stealth silence, uncertain why he felt the need to approach whatever waited for him down there with the caution of a soldier. He froze in place as his gaze lit on the propped open elevator door and the crates of ultraviolet munitions that packed the car.
Siobhan was inside. She had something in her hand, wiring it to the crates.
Rafe’s warrior instincts scraped him with confusion. Suspicion. A dread so deep it staggered him.
He saw the scene for what it was: Siobhan with a detonation device in hand, a remote lying next to her.
Fury flared in him, burning past the weaker feelings of disbelief and apprehension.
“Siobhan. What the fuck are you doing?”
She wheeled around, her hand flying to her breast. “Rafe.”
Surprise filled her pretty face, along with an emotion he was tempted to call displeasure. But then she smiled and tilted her head, those hazel eyes of hers reaching out to him--into him--and making him wonder if he was wrong to feel the doubt the clawed at him.
“You startled me,” she said, her voice sweet and shy, utterly innocent.
He wanted to rail at her, but the words dried up on his tongue. “I’ve been looking for you. I just searched the whole damned place trying to find you.”
“Did I worry you?” she asked gently. “I’m sorry if I did.”
He stood there, bewildered and enraged, yet his anger seemed elusive when she was holding him in her adoring gaze. Her tender smile did something to him. Burned all of his negative feelings and suspicions away, as if he were seeing her through a distorted lens, one that could not maintain focus on logic, but only the beautiful woman he adored.
He tried to shake loose of the odd sensation, but it clung tenaciously. “What’s going on here, Siobhan? What are you doing down here by yourself?”
She drifted toward him, her lips still curved in a warm smile, her eyes still locked on his. God, she was so lovely. So petite and delicate looking. How could he entertain the idea that she was anything but the sensitive innocent that had so captivated his heart?
His eyes saw an angel, even though his blood was still hammering as though he were facing a demon.
“I got lost trying to find you after I woke up a few minutes ago,” she said, telling him the precise thing he wanted to hear.
He relaxed as she said it, his heart desperate to believe her. She came closer, until there was hardly scant inches between them. The more she held him in her steady, earnest gaze, the less he could keep hold of a single doubt.
Yet when he glanced over her petite shoulder to the crates of UV now wired for detonation, his vision wobbled. It felt as if he were looking through oil-smeared glass. And the warrior in him could not ignore the danger licking at his conscience.
“What were you doing with that shit?” he pressed in the moment his logic managed to penetrate the haze of his affection for her. “Why were you messing with it?”
“I found the crates in the elevator,” she rushed to explain. “Someone must be trying to move them out of the command center.”
She tried to lead him away now, her hand looped around his arm. Rafe’s feet refused to budge. He shook his head, pushing against the thick mud that seemed to entrench his sense of reason.
“No, Siobhan. You put those inside this car. The wires on the crates, the detonator box. You did all of this?” The accusation sounded like a question, one his mind still couldn’t seem to fully grasp.
She reached up to touch his cheek but he drew away--barely. It was hard to resist her. It was as if this female held him under a spell.
“Holy hell.”
Just like that, he saw through it. Only for the briefest second, but it was enough.
Rafe set her away from him on a snarl. “What have you done to me?”
With effort, he shook off the strange veil that seemed to cover him, obscuring his vision--his true sight. The power of his mind was struggling against whatever power she held over him, giving him little glimpses of sanity.
And the incredible depth of her deception.
“What the fuck have you been doing to me, Siobhan?”
“Me?” She tilted her head, her gaze reaching for his, working to draw him back under. “I haven’t done anything, Rafe.”
“Yes. You have. You’ve been lying to me. You’ve . . . Jesus, how are you doing this? You’re mesmerizing me somehow, trying to make me believe you. Trying to make me love you.”
Her expression fell into a pretty pout. “That hurts me, Rafe. How can you doubt me? I love you--”
“No!” He shook himself, tasting her lie like bitter acid. Poison she’d been feeding him for days. Christ, ever since that night he and Aric rescued her after the attack she’d barely survived.
He took hold of her delicate shoulders. “I can feel you in my head now, Siobhan. You’re trying to weave some kind of spell.”
“No,” she murmured softly. “No, Rafe, that’s not true.”
“It is, damn it.” He could feel her attempting it again. The surge of tender feelings she coaxed inside him, her false love pushing at his mind, at his heart. He growled, denying her access. Now that he could see the allure for what it was--a trick--it was losing most of its power. “Tell me what the fuck you’ve done to me, Siobhan!”
He shook her violently, dangerously close to wanting to kill her with his bare hands.
Her face turned sour, twisted. Then she laughed, an empty, awful sound. “Finally, you’ve pierced my thrall. Took you
