Stolen Fury Read online

  Now that layered man was pacing by her again, making her stomach tighten with concern. His shirtsleeves were rolled up to his forearms. The bow tie stuck out of the pocket of his slacks, and his hair was disheveled from wind and his fingers. He didn’t seem to notice the cold and didn’t look her way, even when she spoke. Only rubbed a hand over his mouth and continued to pace.

  She’d seen him ticked. She’d seen him in the throes of passion. She’d even seen him juiced on adrenaline. What she hadn’t ever seen from him was concern. He was always in control. But here, now, his brow furrowed in serious thought, her tough-guy thief was looking a little worried.

  And it set her nerves on edge. The fact he wasn’t volunteering information only made her more suspicious.

  “Sit down, Sullivan. You’re starting to stress me out.”

  He stopped, but he didn’t look at her. Instead, he chewed on his lip a minute, then finally turned—careful, she noticed, to keep his eyes down as he dropped onto the bench next to her. “So I think it’s safe to say we’re back at square one.”

  Back at square one. He was strategizing. She could understand that. He was a guy after all, always thinking a step ahead. Hell, one of them needed to strategize at this point.

  “Okay,” she said cautiously, glancing sideways. His jaw flexed, relaxed, but he still didn’t meet her gaze. Her eyes narrowed on his tense profile, studying him closely. He didn’t look like he was strategizing. He looked like he was stressing.

  He leaned forward, braced his elbows on his knees and clasped his hands in front of him. “Right. So I think it’d be a good idea if we split up for the time being. No reason to stick together at this point, not until we get some major research done.”

  “Research,” she said, still watching him.

  “Yeah.” He cleared his throat. “Probably a good idea if we lay low for a while, all things considered. If I were you, I don’t think I’d go back to your parents’ house or your place in San Francisco, at least not right now. You’ve got friends, right? Be a good time to go visit them. When we’ve got something, we’ll hook up. Or e-mail.”

  “E-mail,” she said slowly. “Now there’s a novel idea.”

  “Right.” He braced his hands on his thighs as if it had all been settled, and stood. “So that’s decided.”

  “Um. I don’t think so.” He finally turned and looked at her, eyes dark and serious. Oh, yeah, now it made perfect sense. Her blood pressure shot up. Suddenly what they’d just been through seemed small potatoes compared to what he was about to do to her. “You’re not getting rid of me that easy.”

  “Lisa—”

  “We made a deal, and I’m not leaving until we’re finished.”

  “I don’t think you get it.”

  “No, I get it. I get it really well. We lost Doug’s research, hit a dead end with Landau, and now you want to dump me and go after Tisiphone on your own. Well, tough. You’re stuck with me.”

  “Carajo. It’s not about Tisiphone.”

  “Oh, no?”

  “No. Look. Those were the two guys from last night. They’re following me. It’s not gonna take ’em long to figure out who I’ve been hanging with. The best idea all around is for you to take off for a while.”

  She crossed her arms over her chest. “Nice try.”

  He raked a hand through his hair. “I’ll give you Alecto, okay?”

  “You have it on you?”

  “No, I don’t have it on me. But I’ll get it for you if you’ll just promise to go.”

  He was serious. She could see it in his frantic eyes. He wanted her gone, and not because he was looking out for his own ass. What had happened earlier had more than shaken him.

  That burst of anger faded. She dropped her arms. “Why don’t you tell me what’s really going on here?”

  He tossed his arms up and turned away from her. “Ave Maria purísima. You are the most stubborn woman I’ve ever met.”

  “Now that one I could translate. I didn’t realize you were so religious, Slick.” When he only glared at her, she flashed a smile, hoping to ease the tension in his features. “Ever notice you speak Spanish when you’re pissed or you’ve got sex on the brain?”

  He obviously didn’t think her words were funny, because he muttered something she couldn’t hear, something that didn’t sound all sweet and sexy from where she was sitting.

  “Look,” she said, rising and stepping toward him. “I’m not leaving. So let’s not even go there.” When he glanced away, she moved closer to get his attention. “They saw me, too. I’m in this as much as you are.” And if she was right, she’d been in it a lot longer than he had.

  “So go somewhere else. Take a friggin’ vacation. Just back off this for a while.”

  He was willing to give up what he wanted most to keep her out of harm’s way. In fact, at the moment, he looked like he’d do just about anything to keep her safe.

  Her chest tightened, a reaction that threw her totally off guard. She shifted uncomfortably and swallowed back a jolt of panic. “Rafe, that’s not going to make a difference.” He rolled his eyes, and she reached out in response, wrapping her fingers around his forearm as she softened her voice. “Tell me what I’m missing here.”

  His eyes slid closed for a brief second, opened. “James Kimbel was at the party.”

  “I don’t recognize the name.”

  “Elderly gardener. Rat-bastard grandson. Hates my guts with a passion. Ring a bell?”

  “Your neighbor in the Keys?”

  “Yeah. I think good ol’ Jimmy’s the one who shot at us last night, was one of the ones shooting at us tonight. Which means someone hired him to follow me. Probably from Key West. Maybe even before. Someone who knows what we’re after.”

  Before. Like Italy. Or Jamaica. The voices she and Simeon had heard in that cave rushed through her mind. Maybe they weren’t following him, but her. “I don’t understand. If he—”

  “The black guy he was with? I’m pretty sure it was Terence Winters. Big-time player in the antiquities circuit. I heard his voice when I was upstairs. Winters is the kind of guy who will do whatever it takes to get what he wants. Including convincing some pansy-assed kid who’s never liked me the quickest way to the easy life is to take me out of the game.”

  “Winters is what, a treasure hunter?”

  “Yeah. You could say that. One who’s been implicated in a couple murders and is on several major wanted lists in a handful of countries. Always manages to stay under the radar though. He’s got connections. Everywhere. And if he’s working with Landau, then it means those connections are big. You saw the political power at that party.”

  A chill ran down her back. “Nice.”

  “No. Not nice. Dangerous. I had a run-in with Winters a few years ago. We were both after the same piece. He wouldn’t even think twice about popping me to get at the Furies.”

  The honesty in his eyes sent her stomach churning. “If that’s true, then splitting up isn’t going to get me out of this. He’ll just come looking for me, too.”

  He braced both hands on her arms. “Lisa, do me a favor and just disappear for a while, okay? When things settle down, I’ll get in touch with you. I won’t cut you out of it, I promise.”

  She believed him. He might still be a thief, but he was telling her the truth. That fact cemented her decision.

  “I’m not leaving.”

  He closed his eyes and dropped his arms. “Fuck.”

  A smile tugged at her mouth even though her stomach was jumping all over the place. “You know, you’ve been using that word in English a lot more lately. Acclimating to the north?”

  He frowned. “I’m not gettin’ any, right? Might as well at least enjoy the word.”

  She couldn’t stop the laugh that slipped from her lips. She liked him, really liked him, which only made this strange relationship of theirs harder to comprehend.

  He rested his hands on his hips and looked up the empty track with a frown. “So tell me, sm
artass, does this train go all the way to O’Hare?”

  At least he sounded seminormal again. The chill was gone from his words, even if he still looked ready to pound something. “Yeah. You have to switch trains at Jackson Station, but the Blue Line will take you all the way to the airport.”

  “Okay. So we’ll catch a flight and head back to Miami to regroup. I need to call Pete.”

  “Pete?”

  “My business partner.”

  She nodded, curious but not really sure she wanted to know the details of his shady dealings. “But we need to stop by Shane’s first.”

  “I don’t want to risk going back there. We’ll buy you some more clothes when we get to the airport.”

  “That’s fine, but I still need to stop by Shane’s.”

  He glanced over with curious eyes. “Why?”

  He hadn’t just saved her life for the second time, he’d been honest with her. That meant more to her than anything else. At some point she had to trust him if they were going to make this work and find Tisiphone before it was too late. “I need Doug’s journal.”

  “His what?”

  “His journal. I pulled it from the boxes and slipped it into my pack before we left my parents’ place last night. He kept detailed notes in it, clues about each of the Furies. If my hunch is right, what you found at Landau’s fits in with what’s in the journal.”

  She didn’t miss the flash of anger in his eyes and knew he was finally making a connection between her words and the rucksack she’d gone back for after the car accident. “And you didn’t tell me about it.”

  It wasn’t a question. The ice in his voice made her back tingle. “I didn’t know if I could trust you. And it wouldn’t have been important until we had more to go on anyway.” When he turned away, a rush of guilt swept through her. “There’s still a lot more we need to figure out before his journal’s even helpful, but we need it.”

  “Estás brutal.”

  She blew out a breath. Definitely ticked. That didn’t sound sexy in the least.

  “Look, Sullivan. I know you’re mad. But I’m telling you now. That’s all that matters.”

  Tension slipped back into his shoulders. Whatever softness she’d seen flicker over his face earlier was long gone. A chill spread down her spine at the knowledge, and she shivered again under the jacket, this time not from fear, but from something she didn’t want to acknowledge.

  “Fine,” he said, careful not to look at her again. “We’ll make a quick stop, run in and grab it. Then we’ll get the hell out of here.”

  But he didn’t seem happy about it. In fact, he looked down right pissed.

  ***

  He’d waited until the last guest left before retreating to his private sanctum.

  Barefoot, Alan Landau paced the plush carpet of his office. As his feet dug into the thick pile, he focused on the threads beneath his soles, gripping and releasing the carpet with his toes as he worked the stress from his body. Head to toe, top to bottom, forcing the anxiety out through his feet. It was a calming exercise he’d learned years ago when a situation had threatened to overwhelm him.

  This one wouldn’t.

  Goddamn. Never in a million years had he anticipated she would be so bold as to show up at his unveiling, but when she had, he’d decided to play it calm and cool, let her think she was in control.

  And now she was gone.

  He wanted to throw something. Instead he took a deep breath, paused near his desk and gripped the carpet again. He glanced at the note in his hand. His contacts would find her. If he was patient, maybe she’d take him right to Tisiphone.

  The door pushed open behind him, and he turned. “What are you doing here?”

  “We’ve got trouble.”

  He frowned. “You bet your ass we’ve got trouble. The cops are hounding me about Laura’s death. The police superintendent was here tonight eyeing me like a common crook. They know.”

  “They don’t know. But I think you’re right. They do suspect.”

  Alan resumed pacing. “That last shipment was too big. We need to call it quits for a while. At least until things cool off. Before they tie me to any of it.”

  “The suppliers will be very upset to hear that. That’s bad business. We’ve made you a lot of money over the years.”

  “I don’t need any more money. I’m up to my fucking ears in money. Look around you. And I have the final say in this, not you.”

  Silence fell over the room. “Are you saying you don’t need me?”

  Power was a tricky thing. Sometimes he gave away too much in his day-to-day business dealings. He needed to be careful here.

  “Tell me, Alan. Just what do you need?”

  Freedom

  He’d been stupid. Greedy. Way too fucking greedy. “Nothing. At least not right now.”

  “Nothing? Not the Furies?”

  Surprise registered. “How did you—”

  “I know a lot more than you think. Dr. Maxwell’s presence here tonight wasn’t a surprise. The fact you let her get away, though, reinforces just how useless you’ve become.”

  What the hell?

  “Hold on a minute. You can’t talk to me like that. You work for me.”

  Laughter rumbled across the room. “Not anymore. Did you think no one would find out? That we wouldn’t know you were planning to go after the Furies on your own? After everything I’ve done for you, did you think you could keep that secret?”

  “Listen—”

  “I’m done listening, Alan. And you know what? So are you. Sending Laura to Italy was a bad idea. Digging into things alone was the wrong business decision. You should have been happy with the money I pulled in for you.” The barrel of a gun glimmered in the dim light.

  Alan’s eyes grew wide. “Hold on—”

  “I will, you prick. To the Furies. All by myself.”

  The gunshot echoed through the house.

  ***

  All right. If he wanted to be mad, she’d just let him.

  They’d made a quick stop at the apartment where Lisa had grabbed the journal and they’d both changed clothes, but when she’d tried to leave a note for Shane, Rafe had thrown a complete fit. Since then, he’d uttered only a few words to her in passing.

  She sat at the gate and glanced around the quiet terminal. At this hour, only a few flights were scheduled to leave, and the usual chaos of O’Hare was down to a mild din. Confident they hadn’t been followed, Rafe had booked them a flight to Miami and then disappeared to grab some food. But not before telling her to sit tight and wait.

  She crossed her arms over her chest. She didn’t like the holier-than-thou attitude he’d been sporting since the train, and she sure as hell didn’t need him telling her what to do. What did he have to be upset about anyway? It’s not like she’d lied to him, or cheated him, for crying out loud. So why was his reaction bothering her in the first place?

  That stab of guilt in her chest left her more ticked off than anything. And the fact she didn’t know why she felt that way was really starting to get on her nerves.

  She looked up when he dropped a paper sack in her lap and tugged a White Sox cap over her head. “You don’t blend well, Maxwell. That hair stands out like an emergency flare.”

  She tugged the hat off, glanced at the logo and pulled it back on. “I’m more of a Cubs fan, Slick.”

  He sank into a chair next to her. “I didn’t know your style and didn’t feel like guessing. Deal with it.”

  She frowned as he leaned back and laced his fingers behind his head.

  He thought she was a smartass? Riiiight. That fit.

  She wasn’t taking the bait. Shaking her head, she reached into the bag, nearly melted when she pulled out a cheeseburger. “Aren’t you eating?” she asked around a mouthful of food.

  “Not hungry.”

  She glanced his way and swallowed. He was wearing the black jeans and turtleneck she’d picked out for him when she’d gone shopping earlier, and damn if the outfit
didn’t look better on him than she’d predicted. His eyes were closed in an attempt to look relaxed, but his rigid jaw proved he was a dangerous man on the edge.

  The memory of that sultry kiss rushed through her, warming her blood. She hadn’t had a chance to think of it since the party, hadn’t really wanted to analyze why it had happened or how it had made her feel. The fact her chest was thumping now as she stared at him only made her realize just how much of an idiot she really was.

  She lifted the burger and took another bite, averting her eyes. The man was ticked at her, and for no apparent reason. She needed to get a handle on the stupid emotions that kiss had stirred in her, forget the fact he’d saved her life…again. His attitude proved that whatever had happened before was a moment of pure insanity brought on by champagne and randy hormones. Well, she wasn’t dealing with either right now. He could be a moody ass all he wanted. It wasn’t her fault or her problem.

  She ate her burger in silence, and when the flight attendant announced their plane was boarding, she crumpled the paper in her hand, grabbed her backpack and rose.

  The flight to Miami was uneventful and long. Rafe slipped on headphones and tuned her out through most of the trip, and the few times she tried to strike up a conversation, he pretended to be asleep. When they started their descent, he finally opened his eyes and sat up.

  “So what’s the plan?” she asked as they deplaned and headed up the jetway.

  “I called Pete before we left Chicago. He arranged for a car and a place for us to regroup.”

  She wanted to ask where, to tell him to quit being such a jerk, but his cell beeped before she got the chance.

  He flipped the phone open and came to a stop. “Yeah.” She halted beside him, watching his features change from hard and rugged to concerned in the blink of an eye. “When?”