MatchUp (Jack Reacher)

“I swear, I didn’t.”

“I don’t believe him,” she said. “I vote you sever his artery anyway.”

Grainger’s eyes popped in horror. “I’m telling you the truth. You’ve got to believe me. The only footage is what’s on the card in my camera. Please, don’t kill me.”

Lucan wouldn’t murder a civilian in cold blood, no matter how tempted he might be.

He glanced at Lilliane and she arched a knowing brow. “Oh, come on, vampire. Can’t we just play with the mortal for a little while?”

He knew her well enough now to realize she was only kidding, but Grainger didn’t know that. He’d already pissed on himself once, but from the way he trembled now, Lucan wouldn’t be surprised if Grainger wet his pants all over again. Before his grin could betray him, Lucan reached out and pressed his palm to the human’s forehead.

The touch put the man into a deep trance.

“You’re no fun,” she grumbled.

“Remind me never to piss you off, Radiant.” He nodded to the video camera lying on Grainger’s desk. “You grab the memory card out of that camera and I’ll make sure we’re not leaving anything else behind here in the office.”

As she moved to carry out his instructions, Lucan called Gideon at the Order’s headquarters and explained what happened. “Grainger swears he didn’t make copies, but that’s not good enough for me. Can you wipe out all the video files he has on his computers?”

“You seriously did not just ask me that. I can do this blindfolded and with one hand tied behind my back.”

“Just do it,” Lucan said. “I’ll give you five minutes to make it happen. I’m overdue at home and I’ve got a plane to catch before sunrise.”



THANKFULLY, GIDEON ONLY NEEDED THREE minutes.

With the video camera memory card confiscated and Grainger’s hard drives infested with a virus that no one without a PhD in advanced computer science could untangle, Lucan and Lilliane stepped out of the private investigator’s office and locked up behind them as stealthily as they’d arrived.

“Mission accomplished,” she said as they paused together on the darkened street. She held the small video card between her thumb and forefinger. “To think this little piece of circuitry could’ve proven a disaster for us both.”

He arched a brow. “Not to mention for your candle maker and his unusual shop. And this Desire Exchange place.”

“You heard the man. The Desire Exchange is just about people getting together to have a little fun. It’s just about sex.”

“And whatever you do out there with your rich clients, that’s where the jars come from? And then you take them to this Bastian Drake guy so he can make more candles out of them. Even though it’s one of his candles that made you what you are.”

“I didn’t say it was a perfect arrangement. But what can I say?” She threw him a warm smile. “Extraordinary people have to find ways to work together. Right, vampire?”

“You’re working for the man who made you what you are. You’re working for the man who stole your ability to love.”

“Twelve hundred,” she whispered.

“What?”

“Twelve hundred people. That’s how many have accepted his little gift of candles. That’s how many people followed the instructions on the card and suddenly found the courage to embrace their heart’s desire. Do you want to know how many there are like me?”

He nodded.

“Twenty-three. Twelve hundred people find true love thanks to Bastian Drake and his shop. Twenty-three end up never aging another day in their lives and leaping seven-story buildings in a single bound. Whatever magic governs that shop, whatever Bastian Drake is, maybe it’s a fair trade-off in the end.”

“You really believe that?”

“Today I do. ’Cause I got my tape, thanks to you.”

She snapped her fingers and suddenly a light rain of gold dust showered down on his head and shoulders. He smiled despite himself, but by the time he went to brush it away, it seemed to be evaporating already.

“You must be eager to return home to your Gabrielle.”

“I am,” he admitted. “Two days is the longest I’ve been away from her since we mated.”

“Then you should go to her. Our work is done.”

“So it is.” He cleared his throat, holding out his hand. “Not that I don’t trust you with it, but I’ll take that video card now.”

“Of course. I have no use for it.” She dropped it into his open palm. “Consider it a memento of your visit to my city.”

He chuckled. “I hope you’ll understand if I’d rather burn it than watch it. I don’t need any reminders of the fact that both of us were nearly outed tonight.”

Her mouth quirked as she stared at him in the postmidnight darkness. “You know, I never thought I’d say this, but it’s been a pleasure meeting you, Lucan Thorne.”

“Likewise,” he said as he slipped the video card into his pocket. He extended his hand and smiled when she clasped his fingers in a firm grasp. “I hope you get it back, Lilliane.”

“Get what?”

“Your ability to fall in love.”

Her smile faded, but the light in her solemn, dark eyes seemed warm with acknowledgment. “Even if it means losing this?”

She vanished from view.

Then he saw her standing on the rooftop of the old house two stories overhead.

“Godspeed and a good life to you, Lucan Thorne,” she called down.

“To you as well, Lilliane Williams.”

She turned as if she were about to walk the length of the roof.

Instead, she took to the air and disappeared from view.



LUCAN HAD BEEN HOME FOR just over twenty-four hours, too many of them spent in the Order’s war room with his comrades, reviewing the fire he’d put out in New Orleans and gearing up to fight the even bigger problems taking shape in Boston. As critical as his work was with his fellow warriors, the only place he wanted to be was in bed with his lovely Breedmate.

As the meeting wore on, Lucan found his thoughts straying repeatedly to Gabrielle. He’d even go so far as to say his distraction these past few hours bordered on obsession. Every breath he drew into his lungs seemed wreathed with the scent of her. The elusive cinnamon-sweet fragrance tickled his nostrils and made his pulse hammer heavily, his veins drumming with the need to be as close as he could get.

“What do you think, Lucan? Do we take out the Rogue nest down in Southie first or chase down the lead on those skin traders over in Chinatown and ash the Rogues another night?”

The abrupt question from one of his comrades seated around the conference room table snapped him out of his sensory haze. He blinked at Tegan and the other Breed warriors, feeling embarrassed to have been caught daydreaming in the middle of the patrol review he was leading.

He cleared his throat.

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