Midnight in Death (In Death #7.5)(25)

A muscle in her cheek jumped as she set her teeth. “I phrased that incorrectly. You’re going to wear a bracelet.”

“I believe such things are voluntary unless the subject has committed a crime.” He sat up himself, caught her chin in his hand. “He won’t get to you through me. That I can promise. But if you expect me to wear NYPSD accessories, you’ll have to wear a matching one. Since you won’t, I don’t believe this conversation has a point.”

“Goddamn it, Roarke. I can slap you into protective custody. I can order taps on all your communications, have you shadowed—”

“No,” he interrupted, and infuriated her by kissing her lightly. “You can’t. My lawyers will tap-dance all over your warrants. Stop.” He tightened his grip on her chin before she could curse him again. And this time there was no light kiss, no flicker of amusement in his eyes. “You leave here every day to do a job that puts you in constant physical jeopardy. I don’t ask you to change that. It’s one of the reasons I fell in love with you. Who you are, what you do, why you do it. I don’t ask you to change,” he repeated. “Don’t you ask me.”

“It’s just a precaution.”

“No, it’s a capitulation. If it was less, you’d be wearing one yourself.”

She opened her mouth, shut it again, then shoved away and rose. “I hate when you’re right. I really hate it. I’m going to take a shower. And don’t even think about joining me and trying anything because I’m not too happy with you right now.”

He merely reached out, snagged her hand, and yanked her back onto the bed. “I dare you to say that again in five minutes,” he challenged and rolled on top of her.

She didn’t say anything in five minutes, could barely speak in thirty. And when she did finally make it to the shower, her blood was still buzzing. She decided it was wiser not to comment when he joined her there. It would only appeal to his competitive streak.

She kept her silence and stepped out of the shower and into the drying tube. It gave her a very nice view. She let herself relax enough to enjoy it, watching the jets of water pulse and pound over Roarke as the hot air swirled around her.

She was back in the bedroom, just tugging on an ancient NYPSD sweatshirt and thinking about coffee and a long evening of work when her palm-link rang. Vaguely irritated with a call on her personal, she plucked it up from where she’d dumped it on the bedside table.

“Dallas.”

“It was nice to see you today. In person. Face-to-face.”

“Hello, Dave.” With her free hand, she reached in her pocket, switched her communicator on, and plugged in Feeney’s code. “Nice vehicle.”

“Yes, I like it very much. Fast, efficient, spacious. You’re looking a bit tired, Lieutenant. A bit pale. Overworked, as usual? Too bad you haven’t been able to enjoy the holidays.”

“They’ve had their moments.”

“Mine have been very rewarding.” His handsome face glowed with a smile. “It’s so good to be back at work. Though I did manage to keep my hand in while I was away. But you and I—I’m sure we’ll agree—know there’s nothing like New York. Nothing like being home and doing what we love best.”

“Too bad you won’t be able to stay long.”

“Oh, I intend to be here long enough to see the celebration in Times Square tomorrow night. To ring in the new year. In fact, I’m hoping we’ll watch it together.”

“Sorry, Dave. I have plans.” From the corner of her eye, she watched Roarke come out of the bath. Watched him keep out of range, move directly to the bedroom computer, and begin to work manually.

“I think you’ll change them. When you know who else I’ve invited to the party. I picked her up just a little while ago. You should be getting a call shortly from the guards you’d posted. The police haven’t gotten any smarter since I’ve been gone.” He let out a charming laugh. “I took a little video for you, Dallas. Take a look. I’ll be in touch later to tell you what you need to do to keep her alive.”

The image shifted. Eve’s blood iced as she saw the woman in the cage. Unconscious, pale, one slim hand dangling through the bars.

“Transmitted from a public ‘link,” Roarke said from behind her. “Grand Central.”

Dimly she heard Feeney giving her the same information through her communicator. Units were already on their way to the location.

He’d be gone. Of course they knew he’d already be gone.

“He has Mira.” It was all she could say. “He has Mira.”

Chapter Ten

Panic wanted to win. It crawled in her belly, snaked up her throat. It made her hands shake until she balled them into fists.

It wanted to swallow her when she moved through Mira’s house, when she found the broken security bracelet on the floor of the office.

“He used laser tools.” Her voice was steady and cool as she bagged the bracelet. “He anticipated that she’d be wearing one and brought what was necessary to remove it.”

“The MTs are taking the guards in. The two from outside were just stunned. But one of the inside team’s in bad shape.” Feeney crouched down next to her. “Looks like Palmer got in the back, bypassed the security system like a pro. He hit the one guard in the kitchen, used a stunner to take him out quick and quiet. From the looks of the living area, the second one gave him more trouble. They went a round in there. Mira must have been up here. If she had the door closed and was working, she wouldn’t have heard anything. Room’s fully soundproofed.”