Page 31 of Born in Fire
“—if you’re messing with her—” Her voice is strident.
Interesting. Not corporate espionage, then. Something personal.
I hover outside the office, picking up enough to piece together that this woman—Mara—is looking for her friend. A friend named Elena who was apparently investigating us.
Wait. Not Elena. Jessica.
Jessica? The intern Caleb’s been obsessed with?
Sloane catches sight of me and mouths the word “vault” just before the blue-haired woman starts yelling again. Great. I think I’ll give that party a miss. I turn to the elevator that leads to the basement and arrive just as Caleb emerges from the vault, looking like murder personified.
I straighten up. “Wanna explain the pissed-off goth girl in your office?” I keep my tone deliberately light. “The one whose friend you’ve been playing kissy-face with lately?”
“Not now, Dorian. You’re not helping.” He shoulders past me with that self-important stride that screamsI-carry-the-weight-of-the-world.
I fall into step beside him, dropping the act. “This is serious.”
“Very,” he grits out.
“And it involves the woman.”
He nods sharply, picking up his pace. “She was in the vault, Dorian. I picked up her scent.”
My blood runs cold. “What? How the fuck could she get in there?”
He shakes his head. “No idea.”
The security chief appears then—Mason, if I remember correctly. The conversation that follows confirms my worst fears. Someone breached our most secure vault, and our top-of-the-line security system caught nothing but an “electrical disturbance.”
Caleb’s temper ratchets up a notch, and I stay silent as I tail him away from the scene. In the elevator, the tension radiates off him in waves. I study his profile, noting the tightness around his jaw, the barely controlled fury in his eyes.
“What’s your take?” I ask.
“She was in here.”
“Jessica,” I say, using the name I know her by.
“Elena. Her name’s Elena Ross. She’s a PI.” His voice is clipped. “No idea who she’s working for, but she’s gone. And Malakai’s fingerprints are all over this.”
“Malakai. Shit.” The name alone makes my skin crawl. The oldest among us, with a prosthetic leg and a perpetual chip on his shoulder. “No details from the Smurf on who the client might be?” I ask, trying to inject some levity.
“The what?” He snaps a look at me.
“Mara. The girl with the blue…” I point at my head. “You know… Don’t worry, forget I said anything.”
His patience shatters. “This is not the fucking time for jokes, Dorian. If you’re trying to—”
“I wasn’t trying to…” I stop myself, adjusting my approach. Caleb needs focus, not my defense mechanisms. “Look, Caleb, I know you’re going to charge off into this like the brooding dark knight you are, but Malakai doesn’t play by your rules. If he’s behind this, you better be ready to draw blood.”
Our eyes meet, and I let him see the seriousness behind my words. This isn’t a game anymore.
Back in the office, Blue Hair—Mara—is still pacing. The moment Caleb enters, she’s on him like a guided missile with a target.
“Well?”
“She was here.” Caleb moves to his desk. “Last night.”
“And? That’s it? That’s all you’ve got?”
