Dark Lover (16 page)

“Then I guess you'll have to quit. Because Jan is going to tail him now and you're reassigned as we speak.” He picked up a folder and handed it to her. “You called 911 yesterday at 2:03 p.m. That's when Maclean walked into the adjacent building, right?”

Sam was so angry that she was trembling. She reminded herself to be a pro and answer his questions before she gave him the finger. She reminded herself that Jan was a prude, but then gave that up. Maclean would seduce her, she knew it. Jesus—she almost felt jealous. “Yeah, that's right.”

“He was next seen at 3:47 p.m., getting out of a taxi and
entering his Park Avenue home. He was carrying the parcel he'd left One Hemmer House with, which he gleefully deposited in the corner trash before going inside.”

She was still seething over Jan being assigned to Maclean, making it hard to stay entirely focused. She was sick with dismay. “That's Maclean's way of saying ‘fuck you.' He obviously stashed the page on his way home. I can find out where it is, Nick. Me…not Jan. I'm making progress with him.”

Nick snorted. “Yeah, the thumping-mattress kind.”

“We're adversaries,
not
lovers. But he wants me and I'm using it. Not only that, I'm figuring him out—which is incredibly difficult, by the way, considering what he's gone through. The more I know about his captivity, the better it would be. I can get that page, if I can figure out his motivation. And we've been invited to Hemmer's tonight—him and me, together.”

Nick folded his arms and stared. “The evil in the vault,” he said thoughtfully.

“It needs to be checked out. It could be dangerous.” Sam barreled on. “I came on board the moment you crooked your finger when Brie was abducted last year. I've worked harder than anyone ever since and you know it. I am asking for a one-time favor. I am getting close to Maclean—in more ways than the thumping-mattress kind. Let me continue.”

He thought about it. Nick usually made most decisions in a heartbeat. “You think you can work with Jan and not scratch each other's eyes out?”

“Oh, I won't scratch her eyes out, don't worry about that. But I might put a bullet in her fat wagging ass.” She smiled coldly. If Jan dared send Maclean one coy look, she'd do it, too. “I can handle Maclean. Don't reassign me and don't make me work with that false-lashed and false-everything-else, bottle-blond secretary.”

“Jan is at the top of this game,” Nick said. “And my gut says you are finally in over your head.” Sam snorted. “We've already checked out art dealers in the city and the surrounding boroughs, in Long Island, New Jersey and the north of Pennsylvania. We've got nothing. I'm starting to think he sent the page somewhere, maybe even out of this time, or it's in private hands. Of course, he doesn't have friends, so that might make it a bit of a problem. And it's the real deal. The photos you took when you were inside were analyzed yesterday while you guys were playing Bonnie chases Clyde.”

Even though she hadn't gone into work yesterday, she'd e-mailed the photos she'd taken while in the vault from her BlackBerry. She crossed her arms and stared. “Are you going to tell me what power the page has?”

Nick smiled. “I thought you'd never ask.”

Sam felt a chill go down her spine. “How bad is it?”

“Put it this way—we don't want our enemies having this power.”

Sam waited.

“It's the power of illusion,” Nick said. “Or, in plain English, it's the power of virtual control.”

 

“H
E'S HERE
,” Jan said over the intercom.

Sam's heart lurched. But that was because Jan was now her partner, not because Ian Maclean was on his way up to Nick's office. He did not have that effect on her—no one did.

“Great,” she said. “Hey, don't forget to add the falsies before the big meet and greet. That
is
why you're on the way to the ladies' room, right?”

Jan cut her off.

Sam stood, her pulse racing, which dismayed her. She had to stay professional. And that wasn't the easy task it had once been. She opened her desk drawer and stared at the DVD in it. She'd made a copy.

She slowly closed the drawer. Jan was undoubtedly powdering her porcelain nose and applying lipstick and
hitching up her control-top pantyhose. But even her falsies wouldn't distract a man from that DVD.

Not that she'd decided to show it to Maclean.

Nick claimed she wasn't in control. If she showed Ian the sex tape, she'd be in charge. Sam had not a doubt. Unless, of course, he'd already seen it.

The thought made her breathless.

She'd make the decision about whether to show him the tape or not down the road, she decided. If he hadn't seen it, the choice to reveal the DVD to him was a powerful weapon hidden up her sleeve. She'd be wagging the dog the moment she did so, and not by its tail. Sam smiled.

But it was time to think about the negotiation to come. She was thoughtful, as she'd been for the past two hours since Nick had explained the power of the page of illusion to her. They wanted and needed the power, because they had to keep it from winding up in the wrong hands. Ian wanted his file. A trade would be so perfect, except that he wanted a few hundred million dollars, too.

Did Ian know what the page could do? She hoped not. If he did, then the fact that he'd sell it to anyone made him ruthlessly selfish, with no concern at all for the welfare of anyone innocent. Maybe she
was
becoming attached, because she refused to believe he could be ruthless like that. Or, she didn't want to believe it.

The power of virtual control was truly terrifying.

A person would believe and feel whatever the power broker wanted him or her to believe and feel. If Sam were a victim of that power, she could be standing in Nick's office but think herself lost in a blizzard in the Arctic, freezing to death. She wouldn't see the office walls. She wouldn't even see Nick. She'd be wandering in a blizzard, blinded by the snow and freezing to death.

Sam wondered if a person rescued from the effects of
such power would wind up frost-bitten and ice-burned. Nick didn't know. Neither one of them wanted to find out.

It wasn't hard to believe that such a power could exist. The question was, had the power survived the ages?

The Masters of Time believed in the Duisean, and she did, too. In fact, the Book of Roses had mentioned other great books, other dynasties and secret sects, all dedicated to the preservation of mankind in different parts of the world and other times, all with various magic and powers. The war between good and evil was as old as time. The Celtic gods had given the Duisean to the Masters centuries ago, well before Christ, when their godly powers had been strongest. In those early days, magic had abounded. The gods had frequently shown themselves to mankind.

In medieval times, not only were the Masters powerful, the gods were fairly active still, even if most of the medieval world didn't know it. The page had surely had immense power then. But near-immortals like the Masters were becoming rarer and rarer, even as evil was exploding in population and power. There was less magic in the world now than there used to be. The question was, did the page of illusion still have the same power? She'd asked Nick.

“Who knows? Can we take the chance that it does not?”

Point made, she thought, walking down the hall. If the power of virtual control existed, the U.S. government had to obtain it and keep it out of the wrong hands. As she thought about that, the elevator opened. Before Maclean even stepped out, she felt his hot male energy and his otherworldly power. Their gazes locked as he paused in the hall. He slowly smiled at her.

He wore a black polo shirt, his gold watch and those almost tight jeans. He wore a hammered Celtic cross on a leather cord. He looked confident, L.A. casual, old-world wealthy and drop-dead sexy. She thought about the DVD,
when he'd looked even sexier, and had been confident as all hell about what he was doing.

Last night, he'd been furious when he'd learned about the file. When he'd called her later, when he'd somehow been spying on her from across town with his mind, he'd been in a sexy, seductive mood. It took her half a second to know his mood was good now. Lazy, interested, and as always, hot…

She really wanted to show him that DVD. She couldn't imagine his reaction. “Good as my word,” she murmured.

“I never doubted you'd set up the meeting,” he returned. “Did ye rest at all last night?”

“I was watching a movie,” she said with meaning.

His gaze sharpened.

Suddenly Sam realized he wasn't in her mind. She just knew he was trying to figure out what she was thinking. “What's wrong? Not running on all cylinders today?”

“I'm distracted,” he said, nodding at the supershort hem of her frayed skirt.

“You're always distracted. It's never stopped you before.” As she spoke, she realized he might be putting on a front. In another moment, he'd be going head to head with Nick over the file. And that file meant everything to him. He was hiding behind his sexuality, using it as a distraction.

“Nothing stops me when I'm after something I really want,” he murmured, pausing beside her. “Yer eye looks better.” He touched her cheekbone.

Sam simply looked at him. Her body was hot. Everything was racing. His finger felt amazing on her skin—and it was only on her cheek. Tonight they were going to Hemmer's. She could use Hemmer's sick invitation as an excuse to get what she really wanted—Maclean.

He had to know what she was thinking, because his eyes smoldered.

And then she heard high heels clicking. She tensed, the sound too familiar. Jan was approaching. Sam shifted to
turn, and she saw Ian's eyes widen. Then he smiled, pleased, looking her up and down.

“Ian Maclean?” Jan asked softly. “I'm Nick's assistant, Jan Bentley.” She held out her hand. “If you have any dealings here at HCU, I'm your go-to gal.”

“How lucky fer me.”

Sam said tersely, “Yes, how lucky, you get to be another idiot panting in the long line below her pedestal, waiting to get invited into Saint Jan's bed.”

He'd been looking at Jan's long legs. He met Sam's gaze, and seemed to be laughing at her. “I beg yer pardon?”

“Do line up,” Sam said in disgust. There'd been no mistaking his interest.

“Sometimes I think you're thirteen, not just shy of thirty,” Jan said. “Is this high school?”

“It can't be—you're forty,” Sam snapped. “It's your super lucky day, Maclean. She's now my partner. We can do a threesome at Hemmer's tonight.”

Ian choked, possibly in laughter.

Jan said sharply, “What are you talking about?”

“We're going to a party. But you can bow out. Feel free.” Aware she shouldn't be showing just how pissed she was, and also aware she shouldn't be so livid, Sam stalked ahead of them to Nick's office. If she didn't know better, she'd think she was jealous of Maclean's typical male interest. But jealousy was another word that was not in her vocabulary. Then she halted and faced them. “Jan isn't into parties, Maclean. She's a good girl.”

Ian laughed out loud.

“Lord Maclean, I'm working with Sam, even if she isn't very happy about it.”

Sam watched her bat her gooey lashes at Ian, smiling and attentive, as if she really were interested in him. But Jan was always turning it on that way, to both men and women, making everyone adore her. Men thought she
wanted them, women thought she was their best friend. The act was so good, everyone believed it.

He grinned and looked at Sam. “An' why would Sam be unhappy to have ye working with us? The more the merrier. And it's Ian, Ms. Bentley.”

Sam didn't try to hide her disgust. “I figured you'd be doing cartwheels. So, Jan, are you ready to perform? Think you have the guts? We're booked tonight and it's X-rated. The virginal act will have to go. Either that, or you can stay home.”

“But Hemmer wants entertainment,” Ian replied. “I think he'd like Ms. Bentley.”

Sam felt like kicking him where it really hurt. “Ian? Close your mouth. Barbie doesn't get down and dirty. It's all a sham.” Sam smiled triumphantly at Jan. “The better to lead you guys on, right, Barbie?”

“Okay, what am I missing?” Jan demanded. “Exactly what are you planning for tonight, Sam?”

“Ian and I have a date with evil,” Sam said flatly. “Hemmer wants us to get it on while he watches. If you're coming, you'll need to come. If you get what I mean.”

Jan said tersely, “Sam, do you try to make me hate you? I believe in giving everyone the benefit of the doubt, but it's becoming impossible to do so with you. And you know what? Nick won't leave you on this case alone. So if I tell him I can't work with you, guess what?” Her eyes flashed.

Sam breathed hard. “That's blackmail.”

“We work together or we won't work at all! You can mock me at every turn and make fun of my morals, but I happen to have a strong code of ethics. That won't change, not for you, not for Hemmer and not for anyone.”