“Charles,” Bones said.
Though the single word was soft, the crash of power that instantly flooded the room was anything but.
Spade let out a sound; half growl, half hiss. “Don’t threaten me, Crispin.”
“Then don’t glare at my wife that way,” was his instant response.
“Hey.” Denise stood up, waving her hand to break their staring contest. “Remember me, the person this is about?”
Spade looked her way, his expression softening at once.
“I do, darling, but you can’t walk into that facility on your own. It’s too dangerous.”
“I agree,” I said calmly.
That startled Spade into looking at me without his former death stare. “What?”
“I agree,” I repeated. “Even if Denise got in, she’d have no idea how to hack into Madigan’s computer to get the information we needed. While I’m not as good as the hacker group Anonymous, I know enough to recover what we’re looking for. That’s why I’d be going with her. Madigan’s been after me for years, so his scientists would see me pretending to be his captive and just assume he’d finally accomplished his objective to imprison me for full experimentation.”
And once we were inside the compound, and I discovered who’d been backing Madigan, plus what had happened to Tate, Juan, Cooper, and Dave . . . the real fight would begin.
Spade’s gaze flicked to Bones. “You’re willing to let her do this?”
A bark of laughter preceded his response. “Willing? No. Resigned, yes, but she’s not going in alone, either. I’ll be going with them.”
“Bones,” I said in a sigh, “we talked about this. One hostage vampire, his staff would believe, but two? That’s pushing it.”
“Normally, yes,” he said in a mild tone. “But anyone who sees me will swear I’m completely harmless.”
Of course. Because a six-foot-two, muscled Master vampire known to be a centuries-old badass was the picture of helplessness.
“You’d need to employ mass hypnotism to convince anyone of that, and his guards wear visors to prevent being mesmerized.”
Bones’s smile was dangerously luxuriant, like poison concealed in the finest of wines.
“You’ll see, but before we get to that, we need to find a way to capture Jason Madigan. Denise can’t pull off impersonating him in West Virginia if everyone knows he’s still in Tennessee.”
Fabian dropped through the kitchen ceiling of our rental apartment, his translucent features telling the story before he spoke.
“He still hadn’t left the compound, has he?” I asked in resignation.
The ghost shook his head. “I’m sorry, Cat.”
Denise’s face mirrored my own disappointment, but Spade turned away before I could catch his expression. It was probably a smile. He’d risk his own life without any qualms, but when it came to his wife’s safety, he even managed to make Bones look under-protective.
“This isn’t working,” Denise said, stating the opinion I’d come to days ago. “Madigan might have left the compound every couple weeks before, but he’s obviously burrowed in like a tick now. What if it’s months until he comes out on his own?”
“The shortest distance between two points is a straight line,” I said, squaring my shoulders. “I’ll call Madigan and tell him I want to meet. We now know how badly he wants to capture me, so that’ll get him out of the compound.”
“Absolutely not,” Bones snapped.
“Hooks work best when they’re baited,” I replied, throwing his words from the other day back at him. “I’m what Madigan wants. He’ll come out if he thinks he can grab me.”
“Yes, with the strongest army he can amass to capture you,” Bones said, his emotions flashing through mine with the intensity of lightning strikes. “Need I remind you that the last time you met an adversary on his terms, you were shot and nearly burned to death.”
By reflex, I ran a hand through my hair. Even with vampire healing abilities, it still hadn’t grown to the length it had been the night Kramer set fire to me.
“But who’s here and who’s locked in a spectre trap?” I countered. “If history’s most powerful ghost couldn’t do me in, then humanity’s biggest asshole doesn’t stand a chance.”
Spade leaned back, making himself more comfortable while a satisfied expression crossed his features. No doubt he was thinking paybacks were a bitch as he listened to Bones and me argue over acceptable safety risks.
Then the person I least expected to take my side strolled into the kitchen, wearing nothing but a bed sheet wrapped around his hips.
“Why do you bother, Crispin? You married a fighter, so stop trying to convince her that the sidelines suit her better.”