Blood of Innocence (Sloan Skye) (29 page)

BOOK: Blood of Innocence (Sloan Skye)
12.12Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
“Don’t worry about it.”
“Just tell me it wasn’t someone very close to you,” Brittany said.
“It wasn’t someone very close to me,” I echoed.
For my lie, I received a grateful smile from JT.
“Sloan, you look tired,” Brittany said. “You don’t have to stay.”
“I’m fine. Though I’d be more comfortable if I could sit down.” I glanced around the tiny curtained-off area, looking for somewhere to sit. I found a chair shoved way back, against the wall.
I sat.
I closed my eyes.
What felt like five minutes later, JT was nudging me awake. “Sloan, it’s time to go. Are you sure you’re okay to drive?”
“Sure. Wow. I guess I’m more tired than I thought.” I stretched and slowly pushed to my feet. Following JT, who was walking next to Brittany, riding in a wheelchair, I concentrated on getting alert enough to drive safely. At the hospital’s exit, I gave JT and Brittany a clipped “See you on Monday,” before heading out to find my car in the dark parking lot. As I walked, I powered up my cell phone, which I’d shut off while I was in the hospital.
Three messages.
The first was from my mother, who wanted to let me know how disappointed she was that I’d left her wedding reception without saying good-bye. I’d expected as much.
The second, however, was very unexpected.
“Hi, this is Damen. Your father gave me your number. I wanted to call to thank you for the dance and see if you’d maybe like to go out to dinner sometime.”
The answer to his inquiry was hell yes.
After saving his cell phone number on my phone so I could call him during a decent hour, I checked the third message.
Katie.
“Sloan, you won’t believe what happened tonight! I’m spending the night in the Presidential Suite at the Washington Court. Call me.”
Deciding she was probably too busy to take my call, I headed to bed. The instant my head hit the pillow, I was in dreamland.
It is easier to find a score of men wise enough to discover the truth than to find one intrepid enough, in the face of opposition, to stand up for it.
—A. A. Hodge
 
27
 
The next morning, I lazed in bed until almost nine o’clock. It felt so good getting that much sleep. When I finally forced myself to get up, I was rested, alert, and more than a little giddy.
The dreams I’d had—all triple-X-rated—starred a certain handsome, polite, charming prince.
Yes, it was a good thing, stepping back from the stress and pressure of our case for a day or two. Now I could see how wound-up, how anxious, and how narrow-focused I’d become.
When we’d been working our first case, I’d barely slept. I was on the run constantly, and pushed myself to exhaustion, and beyond. I’d done a little better with this case. But I had still been pushing hard, taking personal responsibility for every new victim we found, for every infant who was stolen.
If I kept this up, I’d burn out before the end of the summer.
Making a vow to myself to keep my life a little more balanced—or at least make more than a halfhearted effort at doing so—I started the coffeemaker. That done, I showered and dressed. Katie came bouncing in just as I was making my way back to the kitchen for my first cup of caffeine.
“Oh, my God!” she said, hopping up and down. She was rumpled; her clothes were a wrinkled mess; her hair was a tangle of waves; and her makeup was totally gone. But she was practically glowing. She flopped onto the couch, grinning. “What a night! What an incredible, magical, unbelievable night!”
“That good?” I poured her a cup of coffee and sat beside her. After handing her the cup, I said, “Tell me everything.”
“First, I did not sleep with him. Just so you know. But I wanted to!” Grinning like a goof, she closed her eyes and tipped back her head. “His name is Viktor, with a
k.
He’s so polite, and charming, and funny. We just sat up and talked all night long. And then he kissed me, and, I swear to God, I saw fireworks.”
“Fireworks, huh?”
“Yeah. Beautiful fireworks. Sparkling colors.” She opened her eyes. “Wow, I sound like I’ve totally lost it, don’t I? It’s crazy, but I think I’m in love. Just like that. I’ve fallen in love in one night.” She slurped her coffee.
“Katie, this isn’t the first time... .”
She waved off my comment. “I know, I know. It’s insane. And I know I’ve said that before. But this is different. Viktor’s different.” She sipped again, smacked her lips. “Great coffee.” She took another sip. “Don’t worry. I won’t do anything impulsive, like run away to Vegas and become Mrs. Viktor.”
“I’ll kill you if you do.”
“That’s why you’re my best friend.” Katie took another slurp, then set the cup down and propelled herself off the couch. “Gotta get going. Viktor’s taking me sailing today. On his yacht. He’s picking me up in an hour. I don’t know if I have anything yachtworthy. What does a girl wear on a yacht?”
“A hot bathing suit and a smile?” I suggested.
She grimaced. “The latter I can do. The former?” She glanced at the clock. “I wonder if I have time to run over to Macy’s and pick up a new swimsuit? Maybe if I hurry ...” She dashed into the bathroom and slammed the door.
While Katie readied herself for her sailing date, I sat down on the couch with my dad’s research and started reading through it. While I had just made a vow to keep my life in balance, I was bored. I needed something to occupy my mind.
Twenty minutes later, Katie zoomed out the door.
A couple of hours after that, my phone rang.
It was Damen. I couldn’t poke the button to answer the call fast enough.
“Hello,” I said.
“Hi. It’s Damen.”
“What’s up?” I hugged a sofa pillow to my chest. I swear, my heart was pounding so hard, it was bruising my breastbone.
“I was wondering what you were doing tonight?”
“Hmm. Let me think. I may have plans. To go out to dinner? With a certain man I’d met last night ...”
He chuckled. I really, really liked the way that sounded. “Well, damn. I guess I’ll have to try another time.” After a well-timed beat, he suggested, “What about we get together tonight, then, around six or so. How does that sound?”
“Sounds wonderful.”
He told me where he planned on taking me, and that we’d have a six o’clock reservation. “I’ll see you tonight, at the restaurant.”
“Okay. Bye.” I didn’t end the call. I waited for him to hang up. Then I sat there stunned for a few minutes. Once the gray matter started functioning again, I decided I needed to run out and pick up something new for tonight’s date. Something a little sexy, but also sophisticated.
I grabbed my purse and headed out.
 
 
At six-thirty, I roared into the restaurant’s parking lot. Everything was messed up. I was late, looking like crap, and feeling like crap for wrecking Damen’s plans. After a quick makeup check in the rearview mirror, I glossed up my lips and racewalked inside.
At the hostess table, I said, “Hi, my name’s Sloan. I was supposed to meet a man named Damen here about a half hour ago. I don’t suppose he’s still waiting ... ?”
“Let me check. I just started my shift.” The hostess looked at her little grid of tables, then stepped away from her podium. She returned a minute later, smiled, and said, “This way, please.”
I couldn’t believe it. I mentally rehearsed my apology while I followed her through the main dining room to a quiet room set off to one side. There were maybe a dozen tables in the room. Only one was occupied.
Damen stood and greeted me with a smile that made my heart do a little flip-flop.
“I am so sorry,” I said as I scurried up to the table.
He leaned into me, offering a quick, much-too-polite hug. “It’s okay. I was late too. I just got here about ten minutes ago.” He motioned to the chair across from his.
I sat, accepting his help with the chair. “Thanks for being so understanding. I can’t believe how crazy things have been today.”
“I’m sorry it was bad. I had a rough day too.” He lifted a bottle of wine, showing me the label. “I’m sure we could both use a drink.”
I’m not much of a drinker. The label meant nothing to me. I wouldn’t be able to recognize the difference between a five-dollar wine and a five-hundred-dollar bottle. But wine sure sounded good after my insane afternoon. I lifted the empty glass sitting next to my appetizer plate. “Thanks, I’ll take a little.” As he poured, I asked, “So what’s a rough day for a prince like?” I sipped. Delicious.
“There’s a brother you didn’t meet last night,” he said, looking grave. He set the bottle down, leaving his hand resting on the table. “The youngest. He’s been in Afghanistan for weeks, serving in an MP unit of the U.S. Army. I don’t have all of the details yet, but we received word that his unit was attacked during a training exercise with the Afghan National Army. He’s missing.”
“Oh, my gosh, I’m so sorry.” Our gazes locked, and I was blown away by the worry and agony I saw in his eyes. My afternoon had been pretty crappy, but nowhere near as bad as that.
Damen looked down at the table; he fiddled with his napkin. “Of course, my first instinct is to get on the first flight out and go find him.”
“Of course.”
“My mother is refusing to let me go. There are some complications. I’m not a member of the U.S. military. As a civilian, I can’t just fly out there and join the hunt.” He shoved his fingers through his hair. “But my mother could make it happen, if she tried.”
“She doesn’t want you to go.”
His jaw clenched. “She said she won’t send two sons into a war zone.”
“She wants to protect you.”
He shrugged. “I know.” He sighed. His lips twitched. “Anyway, I don’t want to dump all this on you. We don’t really know each other.”
I reached across the table and set my hand on his. “Don’t worry about it. You needed someone to talk to, someone to listen. I’m flattered you trust me.”
His glance slid to our hands. He flipped his over so that my fingers rested on his palm. “I thought about canceling tonight, but I thought a distraction would be good, since my hands are tied.” Then he curled his fingers a tiny bit and his fingertips grazed the sensitive skin on my wrist. A tingle buzzed up my arm.
“Distractions can be good sometimes,” I agreed.
The waiter came just then, left some appetizers for us, and disappeared.
“I hope you don’t mind. I ordered for both of us while I was waiting.” He gently pulled his hand away.
I set mine in my lap. “I don’t mind at all.”
“So tell me, what’s a rough day for the daughter of Jim Skye, aka Irvine, like?”
“It started after I got your call. I wanted to buy a new outfit for tonight—”
“Nice, is that it?” He motioned to my top.
“Yes. Thanks. Anyway, I headed out to the store to find something nice. Everything went great until I was driving home and my car died. In the fast lane on I-95. It took forever to get a tow. And then I spent hours at the dealership while the mechanics worked on it. That was no joy. But on the bright side, my car was fixed, and here I am.”
Damen’s smile couldn’t be more adorable. “Yes, here you are.”
The next two hours flew by. We ate. We laughed. We talked about just about everything, including our childhood. It came as no surprise that they were very different. By the time dessert had been delivered, I was feeling very much at ease with Damen, and hopeful that something wonderful was happening between us. It was much too soon to make any snap judgments about our long-term potential, but things were looking promising.
When he took my hand as we walked from the restaurant, I felt a goofy smile spread over my face.
He held the door for me.
He walked me to my car.
He looked deeply into my eyes and asked, “Would it be okay if I kissed you?”
He asked permission? How easy would it be to fall in love with this man?
“It would be more than okay.” I closed my eyes and held my breath.
He caged my head between his hands and gently tipped it. The kiss was a soft but not tentative seduction. My head spun. My knees quaked. It was a kiss that made stars explode behind my closed eyelids. I slid my hands up his chest. My fingertips dipped between planes of rigid muscle. An image of him shirtless flashed through my mind, and my body went instantly hot.
When the kiss ended, I nearly fell over. Thankfully, I had his scrumptious body there to help steady me. I stared up at him. Maybe I gaped a little. His smile made me wish he’d kiss me again, harder.
“Thank you for a wonderful evening, Sloan Skye.”
“Thank you, Damen ... ? You never told me your last name.”
“My last name is Sylver. I’ll call you.”
Still a little tongue-tied, I nodded. “Damen Sylver.”
 
 
The next morning, I floated into the office. Last night had been like a fantasy come true. I’d never had a more romantic date. I’d never felt so alive.
JT, on the other hand, looked half dead.
“Rough night?” I asked.
“You could say that.” He scrutinized me. “You look different. Is it your hair?”
I smoothed my hand along the side of my head, hoping no wayward strands had sprung loose from the ponytail. “No, it’s the same as always, though I’m about ready to ditch these extensions. They’re a real pain.”
He squinted. “There’s something different.”
I shrugged. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” I pranced over to my cubicle and got settled in.
JT paid me a visit a few minutes later. I brought a chair for him. Then he heaved a sigh.
“What’s wrong?” I asked as I skimmed the search engine results for
aswang.
“It’s Hough. She called me ten times last night.”
“Ah, ten times? That’s rough. Why did she keep calling?”
“It was one thing after another.” Leaning back in his chair, legs sprawled in front of him, he let his head fall back until it thumped against my cubicle wall.
I instantly interpreted Brittany’s behavior as an attempt to get him to come over. That made me slightly uncomfortable, which irritated me. I had, after all, kissed another man last night. I had moved on.
If only my emotions were so easily shut off.
“Any news of another victim?” I asked, moving to safer territory.
“Since we lost track of Onora Dale, the deaths have stopped. I’ve come to the conclusion that she’s moved out of state. I sent out a bulletin to all the FBI satellite offices, asking them to notify me if there is a similar murder in their area. As of this morning, there’ve been none reported anywhere in the contiguous forty-eight.”

Other books

A Weekend of Misbehaving by Carmen Falcone
An Act of Evil by Robert Richardson
Bad Blood by Dana Stabenow
I'm Judging You by Luvvie Ajayi
Sword of Apollo by Noble Smith
My Fight to the Top by Michelle Mone
Domino by Chris Barnhart
Secret Santa by Cynthia Reese
The Peony Lantern by Frances Watts