Dark Lover. Brenda Joyce

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СКАЧАТЬ shocking selfishness.

      And then there was his pain.

      Sam did not want to think about him on his hands and knees, crying. But she wasn’t ever going to forget the way he’d vanquished that demon. The scene was engraved on her mind, unfortunately.

      Sam would like to think that he had vanquished the demon out of concern for the war on evil, but that was a helluva stretch. He’d vanquished John out of personal vengeance. He didn’t care about the war on evil. He’d pretty much proven that.

      Her stomach was churning, and not because she was drinking on an empty stomach. She wished she had someone to talk to. Maclean remained an enigma. Tabby would encourage her to be soft and kind, which was not a good idea. Of that, Sam was certain.

      Especially since he now had the page and she was determined to get it back.

      The thought was barely formed when the downstairs buzzer sounded. Sam limped into the kitchen, curious. She never had uninvited callers. Everyone knew how much she protected her privacy.

      “Hey, Sam, it’s me,” Kit said. “Can I come up?”

      Kit never dropped by, but Sam was relieved to hear her voice. Kit was smart. She loved research. She was logical. Maybe she could help her figure Maclean out. “Come on up.”

      Kit appeared with a grocery bag and a bottle of wine. “I heard about last night and today,” she said, setting the bag on the counter. She withdrew a bottle of red wine, a bag of baked soy chips and avocado and yogurt dip. She added mini soy dogs, and started to put a batch in the microwave. She was a health nut.

      “By last night, do you mean the happy videos of me fending off Maclean’s sexual advances?”

      Kit gave her a worried look. “That, too. But that’s not so odd—he’s a guy. I heard he went really nuts on a demon.”

      “Yeah, he did.” Sam poured her a glass of wine and Kit dumped the chips into a bowl. They went back into the living room.

      “You look really bad,” Kit said. “So what happened today?”

      “I decided to chase him down, not realizing that he has a death wish. We had a car chase that ended with him driving off a rooftop.”

      Kit sat down and said, “Don’t let him take you to the grave with him. He could have gotten you killed, for God’s sake!”

      Sam had to smile. That would be a travesty, because she intended to die slaying demons. Then, carefully, she said with guilt, “He won this round. I feel really responsible for his having the page from the Duisean. I have to get it back.”

      “It’s not your fault. But I don’t think he’ll hand it over to you.”

      Sam laughed without mirth. “No, he won’t. He’s going to sell it to the highest bidder. And there’s a good chance that bidder will be someone far more evil than Hemmer. We don’t have the budget to even make a decent bid! How pissed is Nick?”

      “It’s a good thing you skipped out.”

      Sam sighed. “Maclean simply doesn’t care who’s good and who’s bad. He doesn’t care about anything except himself and his impossible sex drive.”

      Kit blinked. Then she blushed.

      Sam looked closely at her. She’d just embarrassed her. Although she was in her midtwenties, sometimes Kit acted like a virgin. “He’s into sex, Kit. And with me, he’ll use it as a weapon—if he can.”

      “He’s really attractive,” Kit said.

      Sam grimaced. “Until you get to know him.”

      “And you do?”

      She sobered. “No, I don’t. In fact, I bet no one knows him—and he wants it that way. But he’s in the game—a game we have to win.”

      “Is that it? Or are you just a wee bit intrigued by all that brooding sex appeal?”

      “He’s hot but I am not intrigued.” Kit was staring skeptically now. “I shouldn’t want to know what makes him tick, except as an agent. I know that. But, Kit, I’m a bit shaken from what I saw last night. He went berserk with the demon. He was out of control, crazed. And afterward, he had a brief breakdown. I don’t think I’ve ever seen anything like it.”

      Kit’s eyes were wide. “You’re never moved by anything or anyone. Are you telling me you feel sorry for Maclean?”

      It was hard not to be moved by a man as powerful as Maclean losing it to the point of tears, Sam thought. “I’m a pro, remember? I’d never allow myself to feel sorry for him! But he’s the number one player in this game, and the stakes are high. The more we know about him, the better.”

      Sam had the funny feeling that she was lying. It was her job to figure him out, but he turned her on and he’d shaken her up. In fact, she almost felt confused. She looked at Kit.

      “How can you not feel sorry for him, as a human being?” Kit asked.

      “Kit, we’re trained to be objective on the job.”

      “I read his file.”

      Sam went still. She needed to know what Kit had discovered, but suddenly she wished she didn’t have to go there.

      “Sam? Why do you have a funny look on your face?”

      Dryly, wishing she could confide in Kit, she said, “The suspense is killing me.”

      “What’s going on between you two?”

      Sam tensed. “Nothing. I mean, he wants into my pants, and I said no. He’s enjoying the chase. Don’t they all?”

      “Why would you say no?” Kit was puzzled. “He’s a stud, just the way you like them. I’ve never known you to refuse a hot guy and then dump him on your terms.”

      Sam became uncomfortable. An image flashed of her in Maclean’s bed. They’d tear each other apart, use each other up, she thought. It would be off-the-charts passion. She knew it. “He’s under investigation, Kit. Why are we talking about my sexual habits?”

      “We’re not. We’re talking about you and Ian Maclean, a near-immortal with a two-inch-thick agency file, filled with flags. A near-immortal who, I might add, is a suspect in the thefts of art worth hundreds of millions of dollars. A near-immortal who spent decades in demonic captivity. He should be one of us—but he’s not. But he’s not one of them, either. I think it’s worth talking about how you’re dealing with him. And if you have feelings, I think that’s worth looking at, too. And that is why I’m here.” She flushed. “I’m worried about you.”

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