Obsession in Death (In Death #40)(99)

“You opened the f*cking door.”

“Not exactly.” She puffed out a breath. “But I would have, I see that now, and it pisses me off. I would have if you hadn’t sent that last nagging e-mail about not opening the door, period. I was still rolling my eyes at it – at you – when she buzzed.”

She paused, swiped at her eyes when they watered up. “Damn it. I hate being stupid, being played. She had the names right. My producer, my assistant producer, her intern, even the name of the messenger service we use most regularly. And as I said, Bing’s been known to send something off hours. I asked for ID, Dallas – she showed it, and it cleared the building scan. She didn’t match the description. Shorter, slimmer, the hair showing. I was about to open the door when I could feel you snarling at me for it.”

She swiped at tears again, looked up as Roarke brought her drink. “Thanks.” Swiped then sighed when he sat on the arm of her chair, took out a pristine white handkerchief, dabbed at the tears.

“There now, darling. You’re safe now.”

“God. Why didn’t the Icoves clone you, then I could have one? Sorry, it’s just reaction. Stun streams freaking hurt, I now have reason to know, even when they’re just glancing.”

“You opened the door,” Eve said again.

“I left the chain on. Don’t beat me up over it, I’m doing such a good job of it myself. I thought, compromise, not really opening the door, but getting whatever Bing’s sending me. I had her show me the packet through the peep, and then I left the chain on, told her to pass it through.”

After letting out a cleansing breath, she took a hit of bourbon.

“She hesitated, and it set off an alarm, then… I looked through the peep again, and she was looking at the door. Your eyes, Dallas. About the same color as this bourbon.” She took another hit – long and slow this time.

“More alarms, and I should’ve listened to them and slammed the door right then, but she angled the stunner in the gap, caught me on the arm. It still feels strange. Still tingles some, but it’s not hurting like it did. She threw herself against the door, and she got that damn stunner angled, caught me on the leg. Dropped me.”

Her hand shook a little as she brought the glass up to drink, then steadied again.

“I’ve been thinking about moving, better building, higher security, but I haven’t taken the time to figure out where and what I want. That one went through my head, too, because if the chain didn’t hold…”

She drew a breath, let it out. Focusing on getting air in and out now that her chest no longer felt crushed.

“I had my lighter in my pocket. I remembered I had it – had myself two herbals while I was working because I’m still officially vacationing. I burned her. It’s got a wicked flame on high, and I burned her, Dallas. Stuck it through, got her wrist, I think, maybe more, or her arm. I’m not sure. But she pulled back, screamed, so I know I hurt her. I got the door shut, and locked. And I tagged you.”

Eve rose. “Which arm did she catch with the stream?”

Nadine rubbed her left arm. “It’s better.”

Eve punched Nadine’s right biceps – she pulled it, considerably, but she punched it.

“Ow!”

“Does ‘don’t open the goddamn, motherf*cking door’ mean open the goddamn, motherf*cking door with the stupid, nearly worthless chain on?”

Nadine narrowed her eyes, took a long, slow drink of bourbon. “Bitch.” Then another long, slow drink. “I’m sorry. You’re a bitch, but you’re right, and I’m sorry and stupid. And I’m moving. You could find me a new place,” she said to Roarke.

“I could give you some options. I’d be happy to give you some options if you give me the idea what you’d like.”

Eve bared her teeth at both of them. “Do you think we could wait until whenever is not now for a real estate discussion?”

Eve paced away.

“Maybe you should get her a soother,” Nadine murmured – very quietly. “Or a stiff double of bourbon.”

Roarke only patted Nadine’s shoulder.

“She changed her look, her approach. So she’s adaptable. And she didn’t run at the first sign it wasn’t going as planned. A little more aggressive, and desperate. I think desperate,” Eve decided. “Pissed, too. Seriously pissed. She’s had two strikeouts now. She’s going to be running on rage. And she’s hurt. You not only aren’t dead, you hurt her.”

“Yay me.”

“Bollocks to that. Pack up what you need. You’ll stay at our place until we have her. I’ll have a uniform transport you. Roarke, you’d better let Summerset know she’s coming.”

“Do you think she’d come back?”

“Low probability on that,” Eve told her. “But I think she needs a kill tonight, and I’d rather you’re not here in case she tries for a second shot at you.”

“I’d rather not be here, too. Thanks. But if you hit me again, I’m calling a cop.”

“Funny. Get moving. I want you out of here while I —” She yanked out her ’link. “It’s the alarm McNab set up. She just tried the master.”

She pulled out her communicator.