“Really?” she asked. “You’ve really tried to tell people you can speak to the dead?”
He grinned at that. “Oh, yeah. First time? We’d moved to D.C. I was about sixteen, and I told the priest that my grandmother, who’d been dead for five years, had spoken to me. Next thing I know, my mom had me seeing a shrink. I quickly learned to say the right thing to him. Next time, still in D.C., I was working as a cop. I was smart enough not to say anything overt, but the ghost had given me the killer’s name. He wasn’t even on our radar, but when I arrested the guy he still had the weapon on him. People started looking at me funny, but what could they do? By the time I joined the Bureau, I’d pretty much learned how to use the information I got without arousing suspicion. It’s hard, though. I mean, you know something, but sometimes your superiors think it’s a faulty theory, so then you have to prove everything or—or make it work, somehow.”
She smiled, listening to him. He realized for the first time just how beautiful she was.
And he wished she would go away.
“Got to get some sleep,” he said abruptly.
She jumped up. “Of course, sorry.”
“Don’t be sorry,” he said. “Come anytime. It is your house, after all.”
*
Machete was startled and more than a little alarmed when his phone vibrated. He knew there was only one person it could be, and he felt his body tighten.
He thought about not answering.
Of course, if he ignored the summons, he might as well put a bullet through his brain.
“I’m watching,” he said, answering the phone. “The Fed is still in there. Not a good time for me to get back in.”
“I’ve got something else for you,” the Wolf said.
“Oh. But you told me—”
“I need my best man on this, and you’re an expert. This has to look like an accident.”
Don’t let it be a woman. Please, God, don’t let it be a woman.
But if there was a God, He wasn’t listening, Machete thought. Or maybe long ago—too long ago—he had forgotten God, and now God had forgotten him.
Wolf kept talking.
“What about the Siren of the Sea?” Machete asked dully.
“Covered. I’ve got Hammer on it,” the Wolf said.
Machete felt sick. It wasn’t that he’d ever been one of the good guys. But even criminals had their codes. He’d done what he’d needed to do when he needed to do it, and he didn’t hurt people unless it was necessary.
As if reading his mind, the Wolf said, “This is necessary. I need to shake things up here, create a distraction. And to make certain all my people are on their toes.”
“All your people,” Machete said dully.
“Insurance, if you like.”
Machete was silent.
“You’re not going soft on me, are you? You signed a solemn pledge. In blood.”
There was something about the way the Wolf said blood. He gave it a nuance of evil. The truth he had in mind hid behind the word.
If you fail, you will pay—with your blood, Machete thought.
“Start now, so you can get the logistics right. And remember, I want this to look like a tragic accident.”
“I’m on it,” Machete said wearily.
Criminals, he decided, didn’t get to have a code of honor.
*
Hannah returned to her room, absurdly glad she had spoken to him. She was shivering, for some reason. The house felt unusually cold, probably because it was nearly empty. She usually kept the central air at an even seventy-five. All her life she had hated it when it was a zillion degrees outside and then she walked inside and needed a coat. She kept the Siren comfortably cool but didn’t freeze anyone out.
Her thoughts drifted to Dallas, who’d looked pretty damn irresistible lying there in bed. Maybe it wasn’t so bad having him around. She wondered if she would see him after tomorrow morning. Once Kelsey was here with her fellow agents, they would offer her whatever protection she needed. Not that she believed she needed protection at all, not locked inside her house at night. So it was just her bad luck that she was beginning to like the guy who had raised her hackles when they first met.
Of course, it didn’t hurt that he was gorgeous.
She’d been alone too long, she told herself drily. And that was true, but it was also what happened when you lived in such a small community. She knew pretty much everyone in town, and none of the guys were the guy. And she just wasn’t attracted to the idea of a one-nighter with a tipsy tourist.