BONDS OF JUSTICE

“Cool as a cucumber, that one,” Reuben said. “Smiled at the jurors, flirted with the gallery. If we hadn’t had airtight evidence, he might well have charmed himself out of a conviction.” A small pause. “Please be careful, Ms. Russo. Bonner is under constant supervision, but he does have rabid fans. If he manages to get out a message to one of them, you could be in danger.”


“Don’t worry, Mr. Reuben.” Sophia took the small, folded note Max passed her under the table. “Right now, he needs me alive. He wants to awe me with his brilliance.” After that . . .


Max felt his gut grow painfully tight as he thought back to the expression on Sophia’s face before Bart signed off. He’d known exactly what she was considering, his complex, dangerous J, knew, too, that he couldn’t let her do it. But they were geographically far enough from Bonner right now that Sophia’s tendency to hurt nasty people in creative ways was something he had time to deal with.

He knew it wouldn’t be easy. Not when her actions—and the crimes of those she’d punished in that peculiarly J way—all added up to a past that spoke of a brutal kind of hurt. Those scars, he thought, were invisible. But they were far more important than the thin lines that marked her face.

“Max,” she muttered under her breath as they headed up to Nikita’s office.

He knew why she was giving him that perplexed look—and it soothed him to know the ploy had worked, drawing her back from the edge of the void. “Hmm?”

“You can’t write me notes like that.” It was a hissed order as the elevator doors opened on the correct level. “What if someone had seen?”

Max shot her an innocent look. “I just asked a simple question.”

“What do you think of boardroom sex?” A raised eyebrow. “That is not—”

“Well, since you asked,” he interrupted, walking into the outer section of Nikita’s office, “I vote in favor.”

At that moment, his entire being filled with the sensual delight that came from teasing Sophia, Max had no idea of the bloody consequences that would result from this meeting.





CHAPTER 15


Some women are not meant to be mothers.





—From the private case notes of Detective Max Shannon


Councilor Nikita Duncan, he thought as they entered her private office, was a beautiful woman. If you liked beauty cut in ice. Perfect. Distant. Cold. According to public records, she was part Japanese, part Russian. That explained the combination of high cheekbones, almond-shaped eyes, above-average height. She’d passed on the height to her daughter, but from the images Max had seen, Sascha’s black hair curled rather than ran a slick dark rain, her skin a warm golden brown to Nikita’s flawless ivory.

“Detective Shannon, Ms. Russo.” She gestured for them to take the chairs in front of her desk.

“Actually, Councilor,” Max said, “I think better on my feet.” Walking to the huge plate-glass window that was the back wall of her office, he looked down into the active buzz of San Francisco and played a hunch. “I need you to share the information you’ve withheld.”

He felt Sophia’s eyes on his back, and had it been any other woman, he’d have been prepared to get a royal reaming later on for springing this on her. But Sophia was unlike anyone he’d ever before met. He had no idea how she’d react—and that both delighted him and frustrated him.

“It would,” Nikita answered, “be illogical of me to conceal information when I’m the one who requested this investigation.”

Max turned enough that he could meet those cool brown eyes. “Three deaths—one car accident that you weren’t sure was suspicious, one suicide that could’ve been caused by mental illness, one heart attack—that’s not enough for you to pull in an outsider.” A human.

Nikita stared at him, a lethal adversary for all that she wore a crisp skirt and shirt, her makeup professional, her hair perfect. “It’s gratifying,” she said into the silence, “to know that you have the intelligence to get this task done.” With that, she tapped something on her desk—Max guessed she’d activated some kind of an aural shield as a defense against high-tech spies. “There was an attempt on my life approximately four months ago.”

“I heard rumors. Something to do with the Human Alliance?” he said, referring to the most powerful human organization on the planet. On the surface, it was all about business, but word was, the Alliance had a strong paramilitary arm.

Nikita gave a regal nod in response to his question. “They placed an explosive device in the elevator I use to access this office and my penthouse, their apparent plan being to detonate the charge while I was inside.”

“They hooked into your surveillance system?” Max asked, supremely conscious of Sophia’s silent presence, though his eyes remained on Nikita.

“Yes.” Nikita rose from her chair and, using a thin silver remote, activated a comm panel on what had appeared to be a blank wall.

The boy in Max was intrigued enough to have him walking over. “This isn’t on the market yet.”