So Tempting (12 page)

And the other girl had never been to a ritual, to his knowledge.

Jace. Would she help him? Or would she lecture him about getting his act together? Could she set aside being his big sister and just be a cop? Help him find Cassie?

Suddenly he remembered the Keeper's threat to make him the fall guy. He had no alibi for that night. Shit. Jace would see the same fuck-up he'd always been. She'd tell him that he was screwed. Worse yet, she'd have to arrest him because she was on the force. She couldn't hide a suspect.

For a moment, Jimmy remembered being six years old and scared to death because his father was dead and his mother sat in the dark and drank. Jace hadn't panicked; she'd taken over and made sure things got done. She was right; she
had
been all that had stood between him and a foster home.

He couldn't tell her about any of this, not until he could figure out how to assure her that he hadn't killed Sam.

But he had to stop them from harming Cassie.

He'd look for her...and he'd send Jace a tip that something in this place was rotten.

Evil to the core.

* * *

Jace awoke to the sound of a blue jay scolding, her eyes opening to the pale blue at the edge of morning. Restless hours of fevered fragments drifting through her dreams had left her more tired than when she went to bed.

Drawing in a deep breath, she stretched, the covers falling—

Over bare breasts. She was naked...and her nipples ached slightly.

No
. She sat up quickly. It had only been a dream.

But she spotted the black dress draped neatly over the foot of her bed, its gleaming metal zipper a reproach. She clutched the covers to her breasts. Scanning the room, she listened carefully for sounds that she was not alone.

An empty hush greeted her. No one was here.

But—

Open yourself to me. Surrender.

Oh, God. She hadn't dreamed him, had she? A sudden flash memory of her bare breasts gleaming in the flare of laser lights made Jace shudder.

She rose from the bed and grabbed her robe.

What have I done?

She wrapped her robe tightly, tying the belt with unnecessary force. Clutching the lapels in stiff fingers, she stared at the floor, trying to bring order to a tumble of shutter-fast images.

Take a deep breath. Today is...Saturday. You went to work yesterday. You—

She'd awakened naked. She never slept naked when she was alone.

Someone had undressed her, put her to bed.

Remember, damn it. How did you get home?

Panic rose in greasy waves. Her fingers tightened on the robe, but the dread wouldn't back down.

Fear propelled her out of the room, into the kitchen, her gaze swiftly scanning to confirm that she was alone. Walking to the cabinet beside the sink, she pulled down a glass and filled it from the faucet, holding it in trembling hands as she swallowed greedily, moistening her sandpaper throat. Small rivulets of water slid from each corner of her mouth and trailed down her neck. She didn't stop gulping until she'd drained the glass.

Wiping across her mouth with the back of her hand, Jace set the glass down and dried the water trickling over her body with the lapels of her robe, too late to stop one track across her left breast.

A flash of a dark masked head in her vision, his tongue licking hot trails over that same curve, then fastening on her nipple...

Jace felt once again the raw moan that had seemed to writhe upward from her belly, the hunger that had been a living thing inside her.

She moaned aloud now, and sank to the floor, huddling into a ball.

What have I done?

* * *

Sometime later, the floor grew chilly, her muscles stiff. Jace arose unsteadily, muscles protesting.
Shower, dress, have breakfast, just a normal—

She sagged against the doorway on the way to the bathroom, cold dread sinking in. Shaking her head roughly, she straightened and kept walking.

Don't think right now. Get your armor on, get the day going—it will all come back.

If only she could forget her drunken mother scraping for memories of nights she'd never recall.

Did I drink too much?
But she didn't remember drinking anything.

Easy, Jace. Take your shower. Just...shower. One step at a time.

Somehow she got dressed and ate standing up, tasting nothing. All the while she pushed at the borders of cotton batting numbing her brain, but the harder she pressed, the less she could unearth.

Her last clear memory was of changing clothes that night to go to The Club to look for Jimmy. She'd wanted to warn him, to get him out of that place—

A dark figure looming over you...
Myra's words.

Dante Sabanne knows more than he's telling.

An explosion of stars. Whirling, tumbling...bone-deep terror...

Trust yourself...let go...I have you...
The man behind her, his hands all over her, had any of that been real? Jace shoved away from the counter. She might be off duty today, but she had work to do. Digging into Dante Sabanne's life was item number one on her list.

What was his involvement with The Club? Did he get a kick out of playing games?

She couldn't discuss her fears over last night with anyone. She was too new on the squad, and the captain was just waiting for her to screw up. She had to know more before she talked to anyone. Had to work this out herself.

But if Dante Sabanne thought she would be an easy mark, she had news for him. She wasn't that person, not a flake like Myra. She was smart and logical. Driven. She was good at her work and she would get better.

Her focus now would be to unravel the mystery of the man.

Then the balance of power would shift.

Feeling a little stronger, she shoved her feet into her boots, threw the black dress into the bottom of the hamper, grabbed her car keys and strode out the door.

I don't know what game you're playing, Sabanne, but you picked the wrong woman to play it with.

Chapter Ten

Jace walked into the squad room, spotted Cardozo and mentally groaned. She'd forgotten he was on duty. Walking quietly behind him, she headed for her own desk.

Cardozo heard her and turned. "Hey, Jace. What you doin' here when you could be in the sack with somebody?"

After the night she'd been through, Jace couldn't quite bring herself to go at him with her usual vigor. "Just got some paperwork to do. Everything seems quiet today."

When she didn't rise to the bait, he deflated. "So far, so good. Whole town must have slept in or somethin'."

Jace passed him, sorry it was a weekend because it would be harder to tap her sources for information about Dante Sabanne. Some things she could do, though: run a credit report, check department files for any references to him, get on NCIC and Google. Everyone left some tracks. By this afternoon, she'd know much more about the mystery man, then he wouldn't be such a puzzle. She'd break whatever odd hold he had over her imagination, one fact at a time.

"Hey, I forgot—this came for you." Cardozo held out a folded sheet of paper.

"Where from?"

"Some guy stopped by; seemed pretty anxious that you get it. I told him to call you at home. He catch you?"

Jace shook her head, opening the paper. When she saw the handwriting, she frowned.

Sis—

Something's gone wrong, but I'm going to take care of it myself.

There's this girl named Cassie who's in danger—can you find her? I don't know her last name, but she's got long, dark hair, real tiny. Drives a red Mercedes coupe. Her brother's got a bundle of money. I know it's not much to go on, but she could get hurt. The Keeper is dangerous and she can't see it.

Tell her brother she's sneaking out—don't let her go to The Club again.

I'm sorry, Jace. I fucked up, but I'm going to fix it. Just stop Cassie from going back. Please.

Jimmy

"Something bad?"

She realized she was hunched over, rubbing one temple. Straightening, she shook her head. "When did he bring this?"

Cardozo checked his watch. "Hour, hour and a half ago, I guess. Who is he?"

Just after noon now. How long had she been curled up on her kitchen floor? "Auburn hair, curly, tall and lanky?"

Cardozo nodded. "That's him. You know him?"

"Yeah." She walked over to the window and stared through the blinds. "I do."

"Trouble?"

Wasn't it always, with Jimmy? Jace felt the familiar drain on her energy that she got every time she realized that Jimmy still hadn't pulled himself together, that once again she'd have to extract him from some mess.

But beneath the exhaustion, she remembered a redheaded tornado in pajamas with feet, a boy who'd thought she was ten feet tall and bulletproof. She had to find her brother and rescue him from the fire one more time. Even if he fought her on it.

Which he undoubtedly would.

But how did he know the girl? Could Cassie be the Cassandra she'd seen at Sabanne's house, the girl she'd first thought to be his daughter?
His sister.
She'd never seen the girl's car, but it wouldn't take too long to check it out.

And what kind of danger? Probably the obvious, that one girl already had died at The Club—they just couldn't prove it. But how? And why? And how did Jimmy know she was in trouble?

What kind of trouble was Jimmy in? Fix what?

I'll take care of it, Jimmy. Don't I always? Just quit hiding from me, damn it.
Her gut clenched.

She wasn't ready to see Dante Sabanne again, but for her brother, she would.

She couldn't let another girl die. Jace felt vaguely sorry for the girl she'd heard pleading to be allowed to spend the night away, who would now have to explain how she'd gotten into The Club. She headed toward the door.

"Leaving already?"

"Gotta check something out. See ya."

Spotting her jeep, Jace avoided asking herself why she didn't just call Sabanne on the phone.

* * *

The silent mountain opened the door with clear disapproval that she'd shown up without an appointment. Jace flashed her badge. He spoke into a telephone, his voice too low for her to hear. He was obviously disgruntled at the answer, but when he hung up, he let her in without further protest. Instead of leading her to the same library as before, however, he escorted her toward the back of the house and down a set of stairs.

With a grunt, he gestured toward a set of French doors inset with stained glass designs, an array of stylized flowers and grasses she couldn't identify. He opened the door to...magic.

A greenhouse, but not just any greenhouse. Probably a full two stories tall with not only plants but actual trees. Birds, quiet when the doors first opened, resumed chattering. Jace stared at a profusion of greenery and flowers, many she'd never seen. Here was a tropical rainforest, verdant and lush. Otherworldly, here in the New Mexico high desert.

A brook bubbled beside her, and enormous koi swam lazily in the depths. In the distance, she picked up the sound of a waterfall. Turning in a circle, Jace absorbed the explosion of color and sound. She might have journeyed to some exotic island.

She brushed a white blossom faintly resembling a petunia, but its aroma was aroma overpowering and bitter.

"That's your
datura
."

She whirled at his voice.

Dante Sabanne stepped from behind a dense cluster of tall shrubs. Dark hair tied at his nape with a length of leather, he wore faded jeans and boots. The sleeves of his khaki shirt were rolled up to the elbow, revealing bronzed skin dusted with dark hair.

Jace glanced at his hands and shivered. No silver ring today, but those hands...

With effort she swallowed and arranged her features carefully. When she looked back at his face, he revealed no more expression than he had the first time she'd met him.

Was she losing her freaking mind?

She scrambled back into the moment. "This? It's so pretty. Seems harmless."

"It is never wise to trust appearances." Gesturing to a plant beside him, he continued. "Take this one for example: foxglove, a source of digitalis. Used wisely, it can save lives, but all parts are poisonous, Utilized with ill intent, it can kill. Good and evil, all in the same attractive package."

They both fell silent.

Then his gaze sliced into hers. "Detective." His voice was neutral. "Why are you here?" He appeared merely curious.

But she could feel his hands on her, even now. But...how?

And what could she say to him?
I'm here because I want to find out if I'm going crazy.

The voice deep within her that tolerated no bullshit intervened. As if cold water had been thrown in her face, Jace had to ask herself how eager she was to discuss her behavior last night, what she could remember of it. Behavior that could get her in serious trouble if her captain learned that she'd gone to The Club on her own, to say nothing of those moments when—

Could she do this? Bluff her way past?

Her purpose today was to deliver a warning from her brother. To save a young girl. Period.

"Your sister, Cassie."

His surprise registered, quickly smothered. No trace of it in his voice, he lifted one eyebrow. "How do you know about Cassandra?"

"Does she drive a red Mercedes coupe?"

He frowned. "Why do you ask?"

Jace persisted. "Do you know she's been sneaking out?"

"What makes you say that?" He stepped closer, and Jace fought the urge to retreat, his presence overpowering.

"I have reason to think she may have been to The Club." She waited to hear him deny that he knew the place, while her blood pounded so loudly that she could hardly hear her own thoughts.

"That's not possible."

"You've been there?" She had to hear him say it, though asking was sheer folly if she didn't want to discuss last night.

For a moment so brief she could almost have imagined it, his gaze flickered. Then she could read nothing.

"You've mentioned it before."

Damn him. If she closed her eyes she could hear the rough whisper.
Surrender...open yourself to me.
Could feel the tongue slide over her skin, the fingers—

Christ.

Jace needed to shake his damned composure. "What do you know of someone called the Keeper?"

His nostrils flared. She could swear she saw shock, then fury. Too quickly, however, his shields slammed into place. "Keeper? Of what?"

She stared at him, unable to believe what balls he had. All right, he wanted to play inscrutable, so be it. You don't tip your hand when your cards are lousy—and hers were the worst. She'd wait until she had facts in hand. Then she'd knock him right out of this smug assurance.

She'd be damned if she'd give him one more thing than she must in order to protect his sister. "I can't reveal my source. I only came here to warn you that she may be in danger. She should be reminded that a girl died at The Club. It's no place for someone so young. That's all I have to say." Jace glanced toward the door. "I'll let myself out."

"Detective..."

She stilled.

His hand began to rise from his side as if reaching out for her.

Jace held her breath, watching...waiting for him to touch her, to see if once again she would be sucked into that vortex of black sky, brilliant stars and exploding colors.

If he would acknowledge what had passed between them.

Endless moments ticked by as his gaze met hers. For an instant, she thought he would speak of what they had shared. A reckless part of her wanted that.

But he lowered the hand to his side without ever touching her, his eyes once again cold and remote.

Disappointment. Relief. Jace held her head high, and departed. As she left, she thought she heard the faint sound of his voice.

She never looked back.

* * *

Dante touched the white blossom Justine had brushed with her fingers.

Faint notes trilled.

He stared at the  flower, his thoughts racing. If a mere brush of something she'd touched could connect him, would the effect be stronger in his refuge? If he cast a circle and gave it total focus?

Gently he plucked the blossom and placed it in a plant saucer, a rueful smile at the irony that the task would have been more pleasant, had she not chosen to touch a bush whose flowers were designed to repel by way of noxious odors.

He put away his tools and washed his hands, forcing himself to patience when his instinct was to charge out of here and race to the small, unassuming cabin that guarded the entrance to his refuge. He even showered to cleanse himself of all traces of the outside world's effects. He spoke only to Manolo and that only long enough to let his houseman know he might not return all night.

His staff was accustomed to his absences, and Cassie had slept very late.

Now he knew why. He remembered the detective's warning and paused again to let give instructions to Manolo regarding his rebellious sister.

* * *

Cassie stirred and blinked at the bars of sunlight across her bed. She glanced at the clock on the table. Almost five o'clock? In the afternoon? Never an early riser, this was still very late for her.

When she sat up, pain seared through her head. She fell back and curled into a ball, but she couldn't stay here; she had to pee in the worst way.

What time had she gotten home?

Gingerly, she made her way to the bathroom. After tending her needs, she downed aspirin for a pounding headache and brushed teeth that had grown fur. Pulling a comb through her long hair gently, she glanced in the mirror and spotted her dress crumpled in the bathtub. Frowning, Cassie turned around.

A fragment of memory flashed through her mind, green eyes smiling as the blond man bent to kiss her.

Cassie leaned against the counter, probed her mind as at a sore tooth, seeking the rest of the memory.

But nothing appeared.

She'd been at The Club; that much she could tell from the backdrop of that fragment.

What on earth had happened? The blond man...she recalled dancing with him. He'd led her off the floor...kissed her. Why couldn't she remember more?

Shouting voices.
Leave her alone. Take your hands off her now.

Jimmy.
Anybody but him. He's dangerous.
No, wait—that wasn't last night, that was before...

Cassie squeezed her eyes shut and rubbed her aching temples. Why did her head hurt so? She'd only had that juice drink.

Her eyes flew open. Oh, dear. If there'd been something in it and she'd gotten drunk, thank goodness Dante was out of town. She'd never have made it past him.

She headed for the hallway. She couldn't stomach the idea of breakfast, but maybe a soft drink would help.

She opened her door. Froze. "Manolo. You and Dante are back?"

The huge man nodded solemnly, filling the doorway.

Cassie pasted on a smile. "Well...I guess I'll see him downstairs."

"He's not here."

"That's all right, I can wait."
Boy, can I ever.
She waited for him to step aside so she could leave, but he didn't budge.

"Excuse me, please. I'm going downstairs."

"Sorry, but no."

"What?"

"You are not to leave your room until Mr. Sabanne returns."

Cassie laughed. "Even for Dante, this is a bit much." She stepped forward, but he remained in place. "You mean to say I'm a prisoner in this house?"

"He'll talk to you when he returns. I'll bring you whatever you need, but you are to go nowhere outside this room until then."

"Where is he? When will he be back?"

The man shrugged, obviously uncomfortable but resolute. "I can't say, but I have my orders."

"I'm not a child!" Cassie's head pounded as she fought the urge to scream. "He can't do this to me."

"He says to tell you that he knows you went to The Club, Miss Cassandra."

Cassie gasped, then whirled, slammed the door and sank to the floor against it.

How had Dante found out?

* * *