Читать книгу Masked Desire - Alana Delacroix - Страница 15

Chapter 9

He wondered if she knew he’d lied about the pigeons. The garage was open on one side and the reflected morning sun from glass-fronted buildings was a mere ghost of the bright light that cut through the trees of his forest. He hated it. Much more scenic was Michaela walking in front of him. Her tight black pants hugged the curve of her ass and she’d wrapped a thick gray leather belt twice around her waist before knotting it. Seeing it made him think of untying it before slowly stripping her to her gorgeous skin.

Cormac’s breath almost whooshed out. The thought of having Michaela Chui nude in front of him, those pale lips growing redder, combined with her rich perfume, almost leached the will out of him.

If he wasn’t careful, that woman would have a power over him that would be unacceptable. He’d been alone for so long that his isolation had gone from a punishment to a necessity. To let another being into his heart was unthinkable. Good thing this wasn’t love. He only wanted to touch her. That was physical and it was completely acceptable.

Apart from the extra security Michaela had posted at all the entrances, they met no one on the way to the boardroom. It gave him time to think about how he would handle the rest of her questions. He might want her, but he hadn’t decided on how much he trusted her. She might be angry with him, but Madden still had a heavy call on her loyalty. Better to keep it simple.

The boardroom was empty and Michaela took the head seat. He hid a grin as she nodded him to the seat on her right, and instead sat on the table in front of her.

“Ask away,” he said.

A momentary look of dismay crossed her face as she realized that Cormac loomed over her. He deliberately leaned into her personal space and watched her struggle to not move back.

He saw the slight quiver that presaged a shift. He moved back, fast. It was too early in the morning for him to have to face that hulk of a man. Yuri was someone best experienced after a few good pints at the pub.

Michaela narrowed her eyes, then cleared her throat. “Pigeons?”

“Still nature. Birds are animals.” He gave up the game and sat down in the chair. “Those men had probably been drinking. If they report they were attacked by a flock of birds in a back alley?”

“Not the most reliable witnesses. The same as if they say they were attacked by a seven-foot-tall vampire.”

He restrained the desire to shudder at that grotesque image. “Now you.”

Her smile lit up her whole face. How had he ever thought her a statue? Michaela was a vibrant, elegant, incredibly desirable woman—when she was not Yuri or a vampire or god-knows-what. Then he considered her. It was more accurate to say this masque was a stunning woman. It might not have any resemblance to Michaela’s natural self.

Damn it. Masquerada were confusing. No wonder no one liked them.

“We’re not supposed to take on arcane masques and I didn’t. The masque I took on wasn’t an actual vampire. It was a human idea of a vampire.”

“Semantics.” He moved an inch closer and her breath hitched. That little sound made his knees weak.

She kept her composure. “Important differences. I needed to protect Ivy and I don’t want police sniffing around. Ivy had her eyes shut, so she’ll say she didn’t know who helped her and tell herself she was seeing things. What are the chances anyone is going to believe a group of drunk, high assholes who claim they lost a fight to a vampire?”

Cormac laughed, picturing it. “Not many.”

“It might stop them from attacking another lone woman.” Her mouth was a thin line. “One who might not have me around.”

Cormac’s mood darkened. “I should have let the pigeons peck out the eyes of the lead one.”

She shrugged. “He’ll probably lose the arm.”

He grinned at her. “Aye. We understand each other.”

“So it seems. About this.”

“About other things.” He leaned over, forcing her to look up at him. Those tilted lashes would be his downfall. One more inch and they would be touching.

Michaela pushed her chair back and away, no expression on her face but with a quick intake of breath she couldn’t quite cover.

Cormac straightened up and mirrored her. “Michaela—”

She didn’t look at him. “Time to work.”

He cleared his throat. “Right. I was going to say that.”

Exactly that.

* * * *

It took most of the morning to go over the evidence with the team. At the end, they all sat back glumly and gazed at the list of findings Michaela had jotted onto the whiteboard.

“We have nothing,” said Michaela.

“On the surface.” Anjali spoke grudgingly. “We need to dig more. You can’t slaughter a human in these offices and walk out. Whoever did this would have been covered in blood at the very least.”

Michaela squinted at the ceiling, trying to avoid Cormac’s gaze. True to his word, he’d left the team alone to work, but she was sure she’d heard the gears grinding in his brain during the session. “We have no suspects. Everyone has an alibi. No security footage.”

“The camera was down in the hallway near your office and the guard on duty was on cold medication. She fell asleep and didn’t notice a thing.” Anjali sounded wrathful. “I didn’t even think vampires caught colds.”

“Nadia?”

“That’s the one.”

Michaela sighed. “No weapon. No evidence on the body.”

Dev cleared his throat. “There may be one thing.” He seemed taken aback when every eye at the table twisted in his direction.

“What?” Michaela prayed it would be along the lines of, Oh, I saw so-and-so coming out of your office covered in blood and forgot to mention it.

“I thought I saw Hiro at a bar I go to the other night. He was with some arcana, which I thought was weird, since he didn’t really like us.”

Anjali tilted her head. “You didn’t think this was important to mention, why?”

“I didn’t think it was a big deal.” Dev wiggled his shoulders uncomfortably. “It was awkward.”

“We understand,” said Michaela. Dev rarely spoke about his private life but she knew he had been outed involuntarily—it wasn’t something he would easily do to another. “Did he see you?”

“I don’t know. I wasn’t even sure it was him. I thought I saw Madden with him, but that would have been weird since it’s not a vamp place. The night’s all a bit fuzzy.” He shrugged. “Beermosas.”

“It’s probably nothing,” said Michaela, “but, Dev, I want you to investigate whether there were any more meetings between Madden and Hiro.”

“Yessir.”

Michaela rubbed her eyes. “The rest of you, keep working on it. I refuse to believe there was nothing. Ambassador Redoak and I need to go see Eric Kelton.”

Cormac’s brows rose and he spoke for the first time. “The masquerada Hierarch? The one who mated a half-blood?”

“Who is a wonderful woman and a friend.” Michaela spoke firmly. Many arcana disapproved of mixed relationships. It was best to make it clear where her loyalties lay right away to prevent insults or prejudice from the beginning.

He smiled. “You know, myths of racial purity lead to stagnation. I couldn’t give two flying fucks about who’s in bed with whom.”

“Good.”

Cormac didn’t seem to be lying about meeting Eric’s mate, thought Michaela as they drove to a district of refurbished warehouse space near the lake. That was a relief. Eric and Caro were two of her closest friends, not that she had many.

“I’ve met Eric a few times,” Cormac said.

“What did you think?”

“I’ve got the utmost respect for what he’s trying. You’re a very conservative race, the masquerada.”

“Some of us.” In her kinder moments, she might consider calling Iverson’s stalwart followers conservative and uncreative instead of selfish, narrow-minded bigots. Luckily, she rarely felt so generous.

“Pulling them kicking and screaming into the modern world has to be hard. We don’t have it so bad.”

“The queen keeps the fey in line?”

He laughed humorlessly. “There is that, but we can also go back to our forests in the Queendom and escape the human world. You can’t.”

“We share the world and have a responsibility to live in it.”

“Thanks, Madame Morals. How’s that working out for you?” He didn’t wait to see the face she pulled. “Eric must have unlimited patience combined with balls the size of a building.”

She’d heard her Hierarch described many ways, but not like that. “You can talk to him about that yourself. We’re here.”

Michaela led them into the warehouse building and turned at his sigh of relief. “Are you feeling okay?”

“It’s always good to have trees nearby,” he said simply. He waved his hand at the old timber interior.

What? “It’s wood, not trees. Dead trees, ones that have been cut down in their prime. Shouldn’t this feel like a tomb?”

Cormac hovered his hand over a glossy pine bannister without touching it. “It should—but it doesn’t. They still contain an element of their life force.”

“They aren’t angry about being cut?”

He laughed. “Trees aren’t people. They don’t think of it like that. Yes, they prefer to be in the forest, but they are existing here.”

“I don’t understand. Either you’re alive or dead.”

“Not for a tree.”

Before they could continue this, a man’s voice called Michaela’s name from the top of the stairs. Her body relaxed. “Stephan!”

He came down and they bowed to each other. Over the past few months, their friendship and respect had deepened, but Michaela was still not the huggy type. She turned to Cormac. “Ambassador Cormac Redoak, meet Stephan Daker, the Hierarch’s Chief of Staff.”

Stephan nodded. “Ambassador. Friends of Michaela are welcome here.”

“We’re not friends.” Michaela felt her smile fade. “Cormac and I are working together on a security issue.”

“Does it have to deal with the masquerada?” Stephan demanded.

“Possibly.”

Stephan’s next look at Cormac was several degrees cooler. “I see. Pharos business.”

“I’m not sure what you mean. It’s Council business,” she corrected. Stephan always tried to catch her out.

The tall masquerada gave a heavy sigh. “Worth a try. Well, come on.”