Masked Possession. Alana Delacroix

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СКАЧАТЬ not usually this subtle.” Tom picked up his tea again. “I guess he had his ears open in prison.”

      Stephan nodded in agreement. “I would have expected more fanfare. But why’d he tip his hand? Now we know he’s up to something.”

      “It’s to unsettle us,” Tom said. “He probably thinks now that we know we have a mole, we’ll spend our resources hunting them out. Which I am about to do.”

      “What’s he even doing here?” Stephan turned to the others. “Why here? He could give orders from anywhere. That’s what cell phones are for.”

      Eric shrugged. “He doesn’t trust anyone. He’d want to be on the spot.” A mole. He couldn’t believe it. Loyalty was the one thing he thought he’d had over Iverson. Not to be able to trust his own people— He looked up to see Tom staring at him.

      “No, Eric. Our people are good. He’s messing with us. I’ll still check but I don’t believe it.”

      Tom was right. Destruction from within was the worst of all endings. “What was that reporter’s name? The one who broke the story that got Iverson arrested?” The humans had acted so fast the Pharos Council hadn’t even had time to accuse him of breaking the Law.

      Stephan gazed up at the ceiling as though the answer was written there. “I think Lynn. Last name started with a B. Babcock? Briar? Why?”

      “She might be a good resource. I read her work. It was unbelievable. That woman kept after him like a bulldog. She would have kept an eye on him.”

      “Butler,” Tom said quietly. “Lynn Butler. She’s not with the Post anymore.”

      “Where did she go? That was Pulitzer-level reporting.”

      Tom tapped something into his phone, then looked up. “It seems nowhere. Apparently she was almost killed in an attempted mugging about a year ago. Left the paper.”

      “See if we can track her down. She might have some insights.”

      Stephan turned from the window where he had been running a finger along the sill. “Forget Iverson for now. It’s almost time for your appointment. Are you sure this is what you want? Whatever it is that Julien brings?”

      With difficulty, Eric dragged his mind back to the badly timed, pain-in-ass convergence. “No. I don’t. I don’t have a choice. You warned me and I didn’t listen. I spread myself too thin.”

      “We could try something else. Getting rid of one, perhaps.”

      “You know it won’t work. All of the masques I am right now—they’re too intertwined in me.” He paused, hesitant to say what the others needed to know and knowing he would never admit it to any but these two men, men who had been with him through battles and blood. “I’m losing my sense of self. My core.” He could feel the masques pressing on his inner thoughts with insidious force and his heart hammered with the knowledge that if he didn’t shed the masques soon, he might shatter the boundary surrounding his core self.

      Tom and Stephan only had time to share a concerned glance before a light knock interrupted them. Stephan crossed the room and swung open the paneled door, blocking access to the room with his body. Tom was right behind him. “Ms. Yeats,” Eric heard him say. “Thanks, Mai. We have her.”

      “I’m sorry, have we met? Wait…Stephan?” The voice sounded tentative.

      Was that Caro? Eric shot to his feet.

      “Ah, I apologize. Yes. This is my usual masque. Yesterday you met me as Alex’s assistant. Please come in. Are you here alone?”

      Eric stepped forward as Caro walked into the room, trailed closely by Tom. She looked different from the previous day and it took a moment to realize what it was. The fuck-me shoes she’d worn in the office had added about four inches to her height, which had evaporated now that she wore a pair of sneakers. Today she was dressed down in tight jeans and a black sweater. A huge colorful scarf wrapped her throat and her hair was tied in a casual knot. Eric’s heart missed a beat. How was it possible that the woman looked even sexier when she dressed like a college student?

      Her eyes traveled to Tom as he came beside her, then widened as she took in his combat fatigues and weapons.

      “This is Tom Minor, my chief of security,” Eric said. “Tom, meet Ms. Caro Yeats.”

      “A pleasure, ma’am.” After giving her a searching glance, Tom shook her hand briskly and nodded at Eric. “I’ll be in the training room.”

      He left with his usual speed, leaving Caro looking nonplussed at the place from where he had, from her perspective, simply disappeared.

      “Are we waiting for Mr. D’Aurant?” Hopefully not.

      She looked at Eric with a smile that didn’t reach her eyes, which remained wary. “I’m sorry, Julien is ill. He asked me to come over to present the plan. We know time is of the essence.”

      “I hope nothing too bad?” Eric was pleased that he kept his voice politely disinterested, despite his heart rolling in his chest. Merely looking at Caro made the memory of Iverson and that damn knife recede.

      This time Caro smiled for real. “Oh yes, he’ll be fine after some rest.”

      * * * *

      Caro didn’t mention that Julien had called her at six in the morning, exhausted from a night of illness brought on by food poisoning. Obscurely, he seemed to think it was somehow her fault and she’d reminded him that first, Robert the warlock was the one who could cast spells and second, maybe he would have been better off sticking with the yam tempura instead of wolfing down pounds of raw and apparently contaminated fish for lunch the previous day.

      That hadn’t gone over well and she’d held the phone away from her ear to avoid the revolting noises.

      Julien’s voice was weak when he returned to the phone. “We can’t cancel Kelton. We’d lose the account and God knows what else he’d do out of spite. You’ll have to go.”

      “Of course. I’ll go by the office and get my notes.”

      “Bien. Remember we need at least twenty-four hours to deploy the dive team.”

      “I remember.” The dive team had been her idea in the first place.

      “Dress properly, Caro. In a skirt. Heels.” Julien’s tone had made it clear this was his real concern about her presentation.

      Dumbass. She hadn’t bothered to answer.

      However, as she stood in the library with Eric and Stephan, she wondered if she should have at least worn a pair of cute flats instead of sneakers. She’d been determined not to dress up and had perversely dressed even more casually than she would normally. The masquerada may be masters of costume and disguise but she would be herself and nothing more, or less.

      After noting that Stephan was now a tall hazel-eyed black man with a shaved head and stubble instead of the shorter bald white man who had appeared at the JDPR office, her attention had gone immediately to Eric, who wore a casual outfit of black jeans and a gray T-shirt that seemed molded to his chest. Seeing all that hard, СКАЧАТЬ