"Yeah. Listen, can you meet me at home? Before I can do anything, I need to recharge. It's just become too d.a.m.n dangerous to run around as I am."

"Can do, but if you're intending to confront the sindicati, you are not doing it alone."

"Rory-"

"No," he cut in. "Not this time. I don't trust vampires at the best of times, let alone ones as steeped in crime as this lot. They won't see or hear me, Em, but I will be there, just in case."

I opened my mouth to protest, then closed it again. He was right. It was infinitely better to be safe than sorry.

"Okay. I'll meet you at home." I hesitated, then added, "Oh, and don't bring the laptop. It's safer where it is for the moment."

"No problem. See you soon."

I hung up, then slowly made my way up the hill. The clean air and exercise didn't make the hobnailed folk any happier, but it wasn't like I had much choice.

The road at the top was little more than a thin strip of gravel, and I hesitated, undecided whether to go left or right. Neither direction appeared particularly promising, given there was little more than trees and scrub to be seen either way. I tossed a mental coin, then headed right-at least it was downhill. Hopefully, it would lead somewhere. Even some sort of street sign would be handy right now; then I could call a cab.

After what seemed like ages, an odd sound began to cut across all the birdsong. I frowned and stopped. After a moment, I realized it was a car coming up the hill toward me.

Relief filled me, but it was quickly followed by wariness. This road didn't look particularly well used, so what were the odds of someone coming along at the precise moment that I needed them?

None. Not the way my luck had been running of late.

It couldn't hurt to be cautious. Even if it turned out to be a coincidence, as Rory had already noted, it was far better to be safe than sorry. I headed off the road, pushed my way through several feet of thick scrub, and sheltered behind the trunk of a big old ghost gum.

A dark blue car soon came into view. The windows were heavily tinted, so I couldn't see who was inside, but it slowed as it neared my tree. I resisted the urge to step closer to the trunk, knowing any sort of movement just might capture their attention.

If, of course, they were actually looking for me and not just slowing down for the corner.

The car crawled past, then stopped.

My breath caught somewhere in my throat. d.a.m.n it. What else could go wrong today? Wasn't being rammed into a tree and becoming an unwilling guest of the sindicati enough?

Apparently not.

Because the door opened and a man climbed out. It wasn't a stranger and it wasn't a vampire.

It was Sam.

CHAPTER 12.

Silently cursing my luck, I stepped out from behind the tree and said, "What the f.u.c.k are you doing here?"

"Rescuing your stupid a.s.s, obviously." His voice was clipped, frosty. "Why else would I be out here in the middle of G.o.dd.a.m.n nowhere?"

I crossed my arms and glared at him. "And just how do you know I need rescuing?"

He snorted, his gaze sweeping me. Though his expression remained hostile, there was the tiniest spark of relief in his eyes when his gaze met mine again. "Anyone with half a brain can see that you need help, even if you're too stubborn to admit it."

"And why might that be? Care to take a f.u.c.king guess?"

He raised an imperious eyebrow. "Because you didn't step away from the investigation when you were told to?"

My fists clenched and, for the first time in hours I was glad I didn't have much in the way of flames. It would have been entirely too tempting to burn his arrogant a.s.s to h.e.l.l and back.

"And maybe, just maybe, it was the drugs you gave me that all but handed me over to the sindicati."

He stiffened abruptly. "When did you land in the sindicati's hands?"

"Like you didn't know." Sarcasm rode my voice. "Isn't that why you're out here, to gloat and say I told you so?"

"No. I'm out here because the tail we'd placed on you reported the incident with the van, and we've been searching for you ever since."

"And you just happened to be a.s.signed to the very area I was dumped." I snorted. "That suggests either dumb luck or connection to me, Sam."

"If," he said, voice low and barely controlled, "you're suggesting I'm connected to the sindicati, you would be well advised to take it back."

The darkness and fury in him was so fierce, the blood drained from my face and I couldn't help retreating a step. "So it was dumb luck?"

He hesitated, then shrugged. "It was just an odd hunch."

An odd hunch. Very convenient. And yet I did believe his statement that he wasn't involved with the sindicati. Had it been Luke saying those words, it would have been another matter.

I frowned, wondering why Luke had even entered my thoughts, then said, "And why would you and PIT even bother looking for me, given I'm nothing but a nuisance getting in the way of your investigation?"

"Because," he said, voice tight, "you're a key player in that investigation-and one we certainly don't want in the hands of the sindicati."

"Yeah, well, shame you didn't think about that before you gave me the drug and left me defenseless."

He snorted. "You could still use that tongue of yours. It's sharp enough to cut gla.s.s, after all."

"Just f.u.c.k off, Sam," I said. "I don't need-or want-your help."

With that, I marched through the scrub and headed down the road again. After several seconds, a door slammed and the car continued on up the hill. Surprise flitted through me. Despite my words, I really hadn't expected him to go.

The surprise was short-lived, however. A few minutes later, the car pulled up alongside me. Obviously, he'd left only to find somewhere to turn around.

"Red," he said as the pa.s.senger-side window slid down. "Get in the car."

"What, are you going deaf or something? Didn't I just tell you to f.u.c.k off?"

"And we both know I'm not going to. Get in the car."

I stopped. So did he. For several seconds we simply glared at each other. But the truth of the matter was, I did need help, and it was stupid not to accept his just because I was madder than h.e.l.l at him at this particular moment. Besides, being stubborn wouldn't help Jackson, but Sam just might.

I opened the door and got in. He planted his foot on the gas and the car took off.

"So," he said, once we were on a main road again. I could see the city skyline in the distance but had no idea where we were in relation to it. "What did the sindicati want?"

"What do you think they wanted?" I couldn't help the annoyance in my voice because, well, it was a stupid question.

"Obviously, it was related to Baltimore's research, but all indications suggest they have that already." The darkness in him briefly rose, touching his eyes and sending chills down my spine. Thankfully, it disappeared as quickly as it had appeared. I wished I could say the same about the desire that always stirred when he was this close. He added, "Unless, of course, you're holding additional information you haven't told anyone about."

"I'm not. Baltimore gave me five notebooks to transcribe the night he was murdered, and that's all the information I had."

"Well, they didn't s.n.a.t.c.h you for the h.e.l.l of it, so what did they want?"

"The fifth notebook."

He frowned. "But they s.n.a.t.c.hed all the notebooks from your apartment, didn't they?"

"Well, someone did. There's no evidence it was actually the sindicati."

"I can't imagine it being anyone else."

I s.h.i.+fted slightly in the seat and studied him for several seconds. He didn't react in any way to my scrutiny, though I had no doubt he was aware of it.

Eventually, I said, "Can't you?"

He frowned. "Can't I what?"

"Imagine anyone else wanting the research?"

"Well, yeah, the government. But the government wasn't involved in the raid of your apartment." He paused, giving me a dark look. "And before you say it, neither were we."

"Of course, I have only your word on that." It probably wasn't the wisest comment in the world, but it was out before I could stop it. The inner b.i.t.c.h, it seemed, was alive and kicking, even if the rest of me felt like doing nothing more than rolling over and having a good sleep.

"Of the two people in this car," he growled, "there's only one with a history of lying-and it's not me."

"I didn't lie," I snapped back. "I just didn't tell you the entire truth."

He snorted. "That's a cop-out, and you know it."

"What I know," I said, voice icy, "is that I believed you couldn't and wouldn't understand the situation with Rory. I still think that. h.e.l.l, you can't even hear his name without exploding in anger."

"And for a d.a.m.n good reason."

"Did it never occur to you that I might also have had a good reason?"

"You were sleeping with another man," he growled, "even as you were professing to love me. What more is there to understand than that?"

"Far more than you will now ever know," I bit back. "Life isn't black-and-white, Sam. Not when you're dealing with someone who isn't human."

"But you live in a human world, and you were with someone who at the time held very human beliefs. How the h.e.l.l did you expect me to react?"

There was anger in his voice, but there was also hurt and pain. It was a reminder that while his reaction had hurt me to the core, it was my actions that had truly ended our relations.h.i.+p. It was my refusal to trust, to share what I was and what that meant, to believe that someone could love me once they knew, that had doomed us from the very beginning.

Even so, I couldn't help saying, "What I expected was a chance. But you couldn't even look me in the eye once I told you what I was."

"Because when I looked at you, all I saw was a lie. You, me, everything. It was all a lie."

I closed my eyes against the sudden sting of tears. It wasn't a lie. Not then, not now. "If you believe that," I said quietly, "then you're an even bigger fool than I thought."

"Well, that, at least, is something we can agree on." His voice was bitter. "Who else do you think could have taken the notebooks, if not the sindicati or us?"

I took a deep, somewhat shuddery breath and fleetingly wished I could turn my emotions on and off as easily as he seemed able to. "It could be the very same people who took Professor Wilson's body."

A lone muscle along his jawline ticked, but other than that, I might as well have been staring at a blank canvas. "And why would you think that?"

"Well, it's hardly likely the red cloaks s.n.a.t.c.hed Wilson's body for the sole purpose of getting rid of any DNA evidence that might be found on it. An attack as public as that one suggests it was a very deliberate choice-and that means there's another reason. One that's a whole lot scarier."

"That Professor Wilson is alive and now one of the red cloaks." He briefly met my gaze. "We are aware of that possibility."

"Then why not at least mention it when you knew Jackson and I were investigating Wilson's death?"

"Why would I, when fruitlessly pursuing information on Wilson at least kept you away from Baltimore's investigation?"

"What? You didn't trust your own drugs to do the job for you?"

"I ordered you away from Morretti, and for a d.a.m.n good reason. He's not someone you want to tangle with, in any way, shape, or form. Especially now."

I frowned. "Why especially now?"

He took a deep breath and released it slowly. Obviously, he hadn't meant to add that little tidbit. "Because the sindicati is on the verge of a factional war, and it's not something you want to be caught in the middle of."

No, it certainly wasn't. But if that was the case, which faction had questioned me? Morretti, or the other? And did it even matter in this particular case?

"Yeah, well, I'm not exactly defenseless," I muttered. "Or at least I wasn't until you s.n.a.t.c.hed any recourse I had of self-defense."

"Let's not get overly dramatic," Sam all but growled. "The drugs only dampen psychic capabilities and shape-s.h.i.+fting for forty-eight hours. I'd foolishly hoped that you might come to your senses within that time and leave the investigation to the experts, but I should have known better."

"It's kind of hard to walk away from something when vampire goons and their werewolf buddies seem intent on either tracking me down or beating me up." I shook my head. "But that's not the only reason drugging me was dangerous, Sam. I'm spirit, not flesh, and no matter how much you and your organization think they know about phoenixes, trust me, it's little more than a drop in the ocean."

"And I will do whatever is necessary to protect the people I work with against forces that could destroy us, Em. And if that means risking the effects of a drug on an unknown ent.i.ty to prevent an attack, then so be it."

But that ent.i.ty was someone you'd once professed to love. The words echoed through me, bitter and filled with hurt. d.a.m.n it, no. I wouldn't go there. Couldn't go there. This man might be the love of this lifetime, but that love was now a part of my past. It needed to remain there, no matter how much pain, regret, and anger lingered in the present.

No matter how much the occasional glimpse of the old Sam fanned the embers of hope.

"You know what? This is getting us nowhere. Just stop the car and let me out. Rory can-"