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  Karl slumped onto the sofa and propped his sandaled feet on the mahogany coffee table. “I won’t know for sure until I get the second round of test results, but it looks like someone’s been poisoning him.”

  Relief eased some of the tension knotting Gabriel’s shoulders. Poisoning was better than some of the scenarios he’d envisioned. “How is the poison being administered?”

  “The first tests indicate it’s probably through his drinking water.”

  Gabriel frowned and moved across to a chair. “He told me last night that water was the one thing he could keep down.”

  Karl nodded thoughtfully. “There are about a dozen poisons that are almost untraceable in water, and a few of those affect your system to a point where water is the only thing you can stomach.”

  “Is it curable?”

  “I think we’ve caught it before it got critical, so yes.”

  “Thank the gods,” he muttered. He wasn’t ready to face Stephan’s death—not a real death, anyway. He’d certainly had to face the so-called death of a few of Stephan’s alter egos over the years as their usefulness came to an end, but that certainly wasn’t the same thing. Not that poisoning Stephan would actually kill him—it would only thrust him into life as one of the undead.

  “Have you notified him yet?”

  Karl shook his head. “Thought it best if you did it. Too much contact with me might raise the suspicions of whoever is poisoning him.”

  The sound of a soft footstep made Gabriel look at the closed bedroom door. Surely Sam couldn’t be awake—not after all she’d been through in the last twenty-four hours. When no other noise followed, he glanced back at Karl.

  “How long has the poisoning been going on?”

  “At least four months.” Karl hesitated, and then lowered his gaze to his steepled fingers. “How many people have constant access to Stephan?”

  “Myself, Martyn, Lyssa and Mary.” Two of those three he’d trust with his life. And it couldn’t be Martyn, simply because he knew poisoning Stephan would not truly kill him. It had been Martyn who’d helped Stephan perform the ceremony that would enable him to become a vampire after death.

  “One of those three has to be your culprit,” Karl said.

  Gabriel scrubbed a hand across his jaw. It made no sense. If one of the three had wanted Stephan dead, he or she could have found far easier ways than this. “When will you get the second lot of test results back?”

  “Tomorrow.”

  “Any chance of tracing the poison back to its source?”

  Karl hesitated. “Probably not, but I’ll try.”

  Gabriel nodded, then, at the sound of another step, glanced across to the bedroom. Sam was definitely moving around. He rose and walked to the door. Grabbing the handle, he turned it quickly and opened the door—only to hit something solid on the other side.

  How much had she heard? He had no desire to explain who Stephan was, and what he meant—to both himself and the Federation—to someone like her. Someone who, even if unknowingly, might be involved with the enemy.

  She rubbed her nose, but her expression was defiant. Which, oddly enough, he liked. “You should be resting. Finley has lots of tests planned for later this morning.”

  She shrugged, her blue eyes wary. “I heard voices.”

  “I called a doctor to look at your feet.” Which, he noticed, she seemed to be standing on just fine. Odd, given that only a few hours ago, they’d been burned so deeply he could literally see bone.

  “There’s really no need, but thanks, anyway.”

  He nodded and stepped to one side, waving her past. Tension ran across her shoulders when she spotted Karl, but it just as quickly fled. He wondered who Karl had briefly reminded her of.

  “Karl, Samantha,” he said.

  She propped herself on the opposite end of the sofa from Karl, reminding Gabriel of a trapped animal. One wrong move and she’d run, of that he had no doubt.

  “May I have a look at your feet?” Karl spoke softly, as if he, too, sensed her desire for flight.

  Gabriel caught the wariness in her eyes again. Distrust was part of any good police officer’s makeup, but this seemed to run much deeper. So how had she become involved with someone like Kazdan?

  She shifted her feet onto the cushions. Karl studied them silently, then reached forward and lightly ran a finger over both wounds. She winced, but otherwise didn’t object.

  “There’s a fair bit of scar tissue, but otherwise, they’re fine.” Karl raised an eyebrow, his gaze meeting Gabriel’s, and Gabriel shrugged at the unspoken question in Karl’s gaze. Four hours ago the wounds had been so bad that she shouldn’t have been able to walk on them—yet walk she had, even though she’d made herself sick doing so. Now they were almost healed. Maybe the answer was tied up in that extra chromosome Finley had found.

  “They’ll be a bit tender for a day or so,” Karl continued, his gaze moving back to Sam, “but I can give you some oil to help with that.”

  “Thank you,” she said softly.

  Karl reached into his pocket and she tensed, relaxing only when his fingers came free. Again, Gabriel wondered what had happened that made her distrust run so deep.

  “Rub a small amount of this oil into your feet morning and night. That should numb the pain and stop the permanent formation of scar tissue.”

  She took the small bottle with her fingertips, slowly turning it over in her hand as she examined it. Karl rose, and Gabriel walked him to the door.

  “I’ll talk to you tonight about the other matter.”

  Karl nodded. “Do. I have some interesting observations to share.”

  Gabriel raised his eyebrows, but made no comment and opened the door. “Take care, my friend.”

  Karl slapped a hand on Gabriel’s arm, grinning lightly as he walked past. Moving with a speed and grace that belied his bulk, he quickly disappeared down the hall. After locking the door, Gabriel turned around and found Sam’s gaze on him. Uncertainty and suspicion clouded her eyes. She wasn’t sure about him, despite the fact that he’d undoubtedly saved her from the kite. Was it the natural suspicion of a cop in trouble, or something more?

  “I took the liberty of sending your clothes out to be cleaned,” he said, walking across to the small autocook. “They’re hanging in the closet.”

  “Thank you.” She hesitated. “Tell me, is it usual for SIU to provide such lavish surroundings for those they’re trying to protect?”

  He smiled. “No. But in your case, I deemed it best.”

  She raised a pale gold eyebrow. “Why?”

  He shrugged. “Because it’s the sort of place we don’t usually choose. And the added security makes it that much harder for would-be killers to find you.”

  She glanced away, but not before he’d seen the slight sheen of tears in her eyes. Yet, like last night, she refused to shed them, refused to give in to the shock and pain of the last twenty-four hours. Why?

  “I think I’ll go take a shower,” she said, and scrambled off the sofa.

  He took in her sleek shape as she walked away, finding himself oddly attracted, even though his taste usually ran to more curvaceous women. But maybe a major part of his attraction was not so much the woman as the mystery she presented. And it was a mystery that ran far deeper than Kazdan’s recruitment efforts and his subsequent death.

  She was an enigma, but puzzles and problems were his forte. And no matter what it was she was hiding, he would uncover it.

  As she neared the doorway, he asked, “What do you want for breakfast?”

  “Coffee,” she said, without turning around. “And toast, or something like that.”

  She closed the door firmly behind her. A few seconds later came the sound of running water. He ordered breakfast for them both, then made himself a cup of coffee and walked across to the window.

  Resting the steaming cup on the windowsill, he crossed his arms and leaned a shoulder against the window frame. Dawn had spread her bloody fingers wide, playing
across the field of clouds. For the moment, at least, the rain had stopped. He glanced at his watch, then retrieved the vid phone from his jacket pocket and quickly dialed Stephan’s number. The call was answered on the second ring.

  “What’s wrong?” Stephan asked, without preamble.

  “Are we safe?” Though this particular number was one only the two of them knew about, there might have been someone close by.

  Stephan nodded. His face was pale, eyes still ringed by deepening shadows, and right now he looked like death itself. The thought chilled Gabriel. He wasn’t ready to handle his brother as one of the undead.

  “I’m alone in the study,” Stephan said. “Lyssa is upstairs, asleep.”

  “I’ve just talked to Karl. Stop drinking the water. Someone’s been poisoning you.”

  Stephan scrubbed a hand across his jaw. “Impossible. I don’t drink tap water, only bottled, and it’s always tested when it arrives.”

  “Which means someone is administering the poison after it’s tested.” He watched the implications of this dawn in his brother’s eyes. “Until we know who, I don’t want you to drink anything unless I give it to you.”

  “That’ll raise suspicions.”

  “Right now, I don’t fucking care.”

  Warmth momentarily chased the weariness from his brother’s gaze. “I’m not going to die on you, little brother, so stop worrying.”

  In the park opposite the hotel, something moved. He frowned and watched the shadows more closely. “Given the intimacy of this attempt, I have every right to worry.”

  “You’ll investigate?”

  Who else was there? Most of their immediate family members were no longer fully functional in the Federation. To draw them back now would only raise suspicions. “When Karl gets the full results in.” Then Gabriel hesitated, catching another stirring in the shadows. Someone was definitely down there—but was it someone intent on harming them, or simply someone taking an early morning walk? “I have to go. Remember, no water until I get there.”

  “Will do.”

  Stephan’s image dissolved. Gabriel pocketed the phone. In that instant, the sun broke through the clouds, and in the shadows of the park, something long and metallic glinted briefly. A gun.

  Or worse.

  Adrenaline surged like fear through his body, and he flung himself sideways. A second later the window shattered, spraying glass across his back and shoulders. Something thumped behind him, and he twisted around to look. A black ball had landed three feet away and was rolling slowly toward him. A fire grenade. Knowing he had a minute at the most before it went off, he lunged forward, wrapped his fingers around the device, and flung it back through the shattered window.

  Not a moment too soon.

  There was an almost inconspicuous pop, then a blinding flash, and liquid heat was exploding across the air, across his flesh. Ignoring the sensation, he crawled toward the bedroom. The door was flung open as he neared. Sam, hair wet and bedraggled, peered out.

  “Keep down,” he hissed, and noted with relief that she was fully dressed.

  She dropped to her knees. Another thump sounded behind them. He grabbed her and rolled them both behind the cover of the bedroom wall.

  Heat hissed through the room, curling paint and scorching the fine wool carpet. He kicked the door shut, but he knew it wouldn’t offer much in the way of protection once the place went up.

  “Grab your stuff,” he said, and released her.

  The first thing she grabbed was her com-unit, which definitely meant it was something he should look at when he had the time—which sure as hell wasn’t now. He stamped out a lick of flames near the door, then rolled onto his knees and crawled to the window.

  The shadowy form was still in the park, still watching. They’d have to leave the car. Even though he’d parked it out of sight, there was only one exit from the parking garage, and that was straight onto the street below them. He got his phone out and quickly dialed SIU for assistance.

  “Two minutes,” the impersonal voice on the other end informed him.

  Two minutes they didn’t have.

  Sam crawled toward him, bag slung over her back. “What now?”

  In answer, he took his gun from the holster and set it to full laser. He pointed it at the wall and pulled the trigger. Plaster and wood disintegrated as he torched a hole big enough for the two of them to fit through.

  “Now we escape,” he said, holstering his weapon.

  “I like your methods,” she said, a slight smile curving the edges of her generous mouth.

  His own smile was grim, as he was pretty damn sure the man in charge at SIU wouldn’t. Property damage was something to be avoided at all costs. It said so in the fine print of every rule book he’d ever read. Of course, he wasn’t one for following rule books, which was probably why he was still an assistant director. But Hanrahan was more than a little used to his ways—even if he was just as often pissed off by them.

  “Keep close,” he said, and crawled forward. She tucked herself behind him.

  He stopped at the hole and peered through. Though he knew this room should be empty—he’d booked the four rooms on this floor as a security precaution—he still checked. Given the nature of the attack, there should be other assailants around. But the room was silent, and he had no sense that anyone was close. He climbed through, then stood up and helped Samantha do the same.

  The wall that separated them from their own room shook as another incendiary device went off. Beyond that was the strident sound of an alarm. Time to go, before the State and fire boys arrived.

  “We’ll take the fire escape and catch a cab back to Central Security.”

  She raised a pale eyebrow, but didn’t argue. Though if the glint in her unusual blue-gray eyes was anything to go by, she’d definitely thought about it. He wrapped a hand around the doorknob and slowly opened the door. The corridor beyond was empty, silent.

  Smoke was beginning to filter under the door to their room, spreading translucent fingers through the hall. Overhead, the automatic sprinklers chimed softly and dropped from the ceiling, ready for action should the smoke get any thicker. He opened the door wider and edged out.

  “The stairs are four doors down to our right,” she said quietly.

  He nodded, more than a little surprised that even when half-unconscious, she’d noted the exits. It was the sign of a damn good cop. “Stay behind me.”

  He kept his back to the wall and moved forward cautiously. The wailing sirens were drawing closer. Surely their assailant would have fled by now. If he lingered too much longer, he’d be an easy target for the State boys. Or the SIU, who should also be close by now.

  In the room opposite, a floorboard creaked. He stopped, holding the gun at the ready and staring at the door, straining every sense he had to try and decipher who—or what—approached.

  “Gun!” Her warning was little more than a hiss of air, then her body cannoned into his back, knocking him down and sideways. He twisted, catching her in his arms, breaking her fall with his body.

  A heartbeat later, the section of wall where he’d been standing shattered into a million pieces, showering them with chunks of plaster and wood.

  “Two doors back, on the right,” she whispered, then rolled behind him.

  He turned and fired. The shot burned through the door. A second later there was a heavy thump as something solid hit the floor. “Go,” he muttered.

  She scrambled to her feet and ran for the stairs. He flicked the gun charge lower and fired several warning shots, doing little more than singeing the paint. Then he pushed up and ran after her.

  They made it down the stairs in record time. At the bottom, he stopped and listened for any sound of pursuit. The rapid rasp of Sam’s breathing was the only thing to be heard over the wailing sirens, but that didn’t mean someone wasn’t after them.

  He cracked open the exit door and peered out. Nothing seemed out of place, and the only sign of movement was the slate-gra
y car cruising to a halt a hundred meters down the road. There would be another around the next corner. It was standard SIU procedure.

  He grabbed her hand and led her out. Two men climbed out of the car as they approached it.

  “Assistant Director Stern,” the first man said, giving them both the once-over. “What’s happening?”

  “Somebody firebombed our room. The assailant was in the park.”

  “State is around front, but we’ll check. Anything else?”

  “Another assailant, possibly two, in the rooms opposite. And check my car. If they knew I was here, they might have tampered with it. I’ll take your keys.” The SIU agent handed over the triangular black key-coder. “Yours, sir?”

  Gabriel tossed the agent his keys, then ushered Sam inside the car. The two SIU officers headed for the fire exit as he climbed into the car.

  “Didn’t you just break a few major rules?” she said.

  He started the engine and glanced at her. The wariness was still very evident in her eyes, but it had been softened slightly by a hint of amusement.

  He shrugged. “They’ve come to expect that of me.”

  “I noticed they didn’t quibble.”

  Maybe. But that didn’t mean the shit wouldn’t hit the fan later on. He had broken a few major rules, but right now, he didn’t care. This case was getting dangerous, and he wasn’t about to hang around where it wasn’t safe. “At least Finley will be able to get an early start on those extra tests.”

  “And what about starting an investigation into why I’m being attacked? Not to mention how they found us so quickly at the Rosewater?”

  “What do you think I’ll be doing while you’re having those tests?”

  “Good,” she muttered, and crossed her arms.

  The gentle hum of the engine filled the silence for several seconds. Her gaze was a warmth that he could feel deep inside, but he kept his own gaze on the road. Right now, she was probably trying to figure out whether he could be trusted or not. Which was fair enough, given the situation she’d found herself in. But if their positions had been reversed, he would have been asking lots and lots of questions, if only because answers didn’t come by remaining silent. And sooner or later, if she wanted real answers, she would have to not only start asking questions, but place her trust in someone.