Keri Arthur - Fireborn

It should have been more than close. If Jackson and I had been a few minutes later, our black widow would have been well and truly dead. “If she’s got any brains, she will after this.”

“I’d be making her if she were my sister. I wouldn’t let any of them damn leeches near the neck of someone I loved.” The nurse’s smile was grim. “She’s just lucky you found her in time.”

“That she was.”

The nurse hung the clipboard back on the end of her bed. “I’ll be back in twenty to check her again.”

Once the nurse had left, I walked over to the lone chair sitting to the right of the bed and dug my phone out of my purse as I sat down. I hit Jackson’s number, intending to give him an update, then realized there was no reception in this part of the hospital. I cursed softly and moved the phone around in the vague hope it might make a difference. Still nothing.

“And who the hell might you be?” Amanda’s voice was low, but it held a surprising amount of strength for someone who had been hours—if not minutes—from death.

“I’m the person who saved your life, as you no doubt heard the nurse say.” I relaxed back into the chair and pushed the record button on my phone as I put it away. “And you really should be more careful about who you go to bed with.”

The confusion that flickered across her face actually seemed genuine. “What do you mean?”

“I mean, you shouldn’t go to bed with a vampire and a werewolf. Especially when you’ve reached the end of your usefulness to your employer.”

“I’m hardly likely to have bedded a man, let alone a wolf and a vamp. That wouldn’t have—” She cut herself off with a cough.

“Wouldn’t have looked good to the cops who are still investigating your husband’s death,” I finished for her. “How long will it take them to make the black widow connection, do you think?”

“I have no idea what you mean,” she said, with such sincerity that I was almost tempted to believe her. Almost.

I crossed my legs and regarded her steadily for several seconds. If she was at all unnerved, she didn’t show it. Eventually, I said, “I noticed you ignored my jibe about your employer. That might not be wise, given what’s happened.”

“Look, as I’ve already said, I have no idea what you’re talking about. If you don’t get out of here, I’m going to call security.”

“You do that,” I agreed. “And the minute I’m outside, I’ll ring Henry Morretti and tell him exactly where you are. I bet this time he’ll send a better grade of executioner.”

Her eyebrows rose and her expression remained one of mild confusion. She should have been an actress rather than a black widow—she could have won an Academy Award with performances like this. “I still have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“I’m talking about the vampire who almost bled you dry and the werewolf who fucked you while the vampire drained you. Both were sent by Henry Morretti.” I shook my head, my expression one of mock sadness. “Seems Morretti thought you’d reached the end of your usefulness.”

“Look, as I’ve already said—”

“Fine.” I thrust to my feet. “I’ll just go make that phone call, then.”

I was almost out of the treatment room when she said, “No, wait.”

I turned and crossed my arms. “Why should I, when you apparently don’t know what I’m talking about?”

She waved a hand, the motion elegance itself. “If what you’re saying is true about the vamp and the wolf, why, then, did you save me?”

“Because I’m investigating the death of your husband, and it would be hard to question you if you were dead.”

“But you wouldn’t mind me being dead otherwise, if your tone is anything to go by.”

“Totally wouldn’t mind, but that’s beside the point.”

“At least you’re honest.” Her brief smile held very little in the way of amusement. “Are you a cop?”

“No. Personally, I would rather avoid involving the cops at the moment. I’m thinking you might want to, too.”

“Possibly.” She pursed her lips. “And just to put things straight, I didn’t go to bed with either a vamp or a wolf.”

“Perhaps not knowingly, but you must have let that vamp into the house. He couldn’t have crossed the threshold uninvited.”

“I let a plumber in—” She paused. “Guess I need to check credentials a little closer, huh?”

“If you’re going to keep playing with pond scum like the sindicati, then, yeah, that might be wise.”

“The sindicati pay in good, clean cash and, for a subcontractor like myself, they’re a viable business option.”

“Except when they believe you have come to the end of your usefulness to them.”

She frowned. “That’s what I don’t understand. This is not the first time I’ve worked for them, and I’m very good at what I do. I cannot understand why they would wish to end my services in such a permanent manner.”

I didn’t really understand it, either, but then, I wasn’t a vampire crime boss. “Did the sindicati order the hit on Professor Wilson?”

We already knew it was the red cloaks who’d killed him, but it never hurt to double-check.

“No. Why would they? They needed him alive to keep working on his research, as he hadn’t pinned down all the enzymes that are apparently responsible for a human becoming a vampire.”

So much for Jackson’s theory that the red-cloaked figure had been nothing but a ruse. “Are you sure? Because another professor who was undertaking research similar to your husband’s was murdered this week, and it seems very likely it was ordered by the sindicati.”

“Perhaps it was, but I do not know or care about the sindicati or their plans for other researchers. My job was to keep tabs on Wilson and his research, and that’s precisely what I did.”

“And ethics be damned?”

She shrugged. “Men and women have been using sex to get what they want for eons. I merely use it to get information for my clients.” Her smile was cool. “And trust me, the men I bed get the better end of the deal. They have me at their beck and call.”

“But afterward, they’re left behind to take the blame.”

“If they live,” she murmured. “Not all of them do.”

Which made me wonder just how many other “husbands” she’d had and how many of them were still alive today. I had a bad feeling there was a whole lot more dirt swept under this woman’s carpet than what we’d already uncovered.

“So how do you get the information? Pillow talk, or by breaking into his computer and copying his files?”

“Nothing so crass. I’m a telepath with a photographic memory. I might not understand what I steal, but I never forget it.”

A handy talent for a thief to have. “How do you get the information to the sindicati?”

She smiled again. A blond-haired shark with perfect white teeth. “You came here wanting information in exchange for saving my life. Why don’t we make a deal?”

“What, saving your life isn’t enough?”

“Well, no, because I need to be alive for you to get your information. Therefore, I have leverage and you do not.”

“And contacting the sindicati isn’t a good enough form of leverage in your eyes?”

“Oh, it’s a great form of leverage, but there is one major problem. You can’t get reception here in the hospital, and the minute you leave, I’m gone. You’d lose not only me, but any additional information I might hold.”

All of which was true, damn it. I eyed her warily. “What sort of deal?”

“In return for answering your questions, I want your help in removing myself from the sindicati’s reach.”

“I’m thinking there’s probably not going to be many areas in Australia that meet that criteria.” And maybe very few overseas.