"Your d.a.m.n lover can wait." The darkness within him was suddenly so close to the surface it was a living thing that crowded the car's cabin. "You've got a notebook to find and hand over first."

I somehow resisted the urge to inch away from him. In this confined s.p.a.ce, that darkness-whatever the h.e.l.l it was-was far too close, far too real, and far too dangerous. And, oddly enough, it reminded me a little of the man who'd silently watched me from the shadows.

"Rory is as vital to my life as the air I breathe in this form," I replied, the bitterness within me evident in my voice despite my best efforts of control. "And the very least you could have done was listen. What we had deserved-"

"Enough." It was an order and a warning, all in one. "We've studied your building's security tapes. It wasn't red cloaks who broke into your apartment, but a thief with a long history of subcontracting to the sindicati."

I took yet another of those deep, steadying breaths, but it had as much of an effect as the rest of them. "I gather you've a warrant out on him?"

"Of course."

He flicked on the blinker, and I realized with a start that we were now on the Tullamarine Freeway. Whether Sam was heading to PIT's headquarters or my home was very much up in the air, but I suspected the latter given he wouldn't want to risk me finding the notebook and handing it over to the sindicati.

"Unsurprisingly," he continued, "he's made himself scarce, but we have people checking his usual hangouts, just in case. The question, however, is why-if the sindicati have all the notebooks-do they now believe they are missing one?"

"That I can't tell you."

"Were there four or five on the USB you gave me?"

"Four, as I told you when I handed it over. I'd typed up the remaining one, but hadn't gotten around to transferring it."

I still had those notes, thanks to Rory. But I wasn't about to tell Sam that. Not yet. I might need it as a bargaining chip for Jackson's life.

"And you have no idea what happened to the final notebook?" Sam said.

"No. As I've told both you and them, as far as I was aware, all five had been stolen."

His gaze narrowed, and just for a moment it felt as if he were trying to read my mind and unpick truth from lies. Eventually, he said, "Well, obviously not by the sindicati if they were willing to go to such lengths to secure it."

"I think they saw me with Amanda Wilson and decided to kill two birds with one stone, so to speak." I hesitated. "You do know that the sindicati tried to kill her, don't you?"

He shrugged. "To be honest, good riddance. But why the h.e.l.l didn't you report the attempted murder to us rather than the police?"

"Because I was-and still am-p.i.s.sed off at you."

"Yeah, well, that's a two-way street," he muttered. "How are you supposed to get the notebook back to the sindicati?"

I crossed my arms and looked out the side window for several seconds. It was tempting-very tempting-not to answer, but I'd already seen the lengths he was willing to go to get what he wanted, and I wasn't about to risk another such debacle. Not with Jackson's life on the line.

"They've given me a number to call."

"What number? I'll have it traced."

"Why? It'll undoubtedly be a burn phone."

"Perhaps, but we might be able to get GPS positioning on it."

"And how does that help, exactly? Whoever is currently holding the phone will be a subcontractor. The sindicati haven't shown any real propensity to place themselves in the line of danger."

"Exactly, which makes the fact that they took such a risk to grab you in broad daylight even odder."

"As I said, I think I was merely an opportunity too good-"

"And what," he bit back, "if you're wrong? What if you were the target all along, and they were merely waiting for the right moment?"

"If they were going after me, they could have done it a whole lot sooner. h.e.l.l, I was next to useless for hours after you dumped us."

"Except that they must have known we were watching you. That accident was not only very well timed, but executed in an area from which they could get away very fast-and they took our people out along with Jackson's truck."

Another chill ran through me. To do something like that took time and planning, and that could only mean he was right. But it also meant Amanda might not now be in the hands of the sindicati if she hadn't insisted I uphold my end of our deal. And that, I thought grimly, was karma at its finest. "Are your people okay?"

"Yeah. The same cannot be said for Jackson's truck, however. I'm not actually sure how Amanda Wilson survived that crash-there was a lot of blood on the seat."

Seat. d.a.m.n, the USBs. "Where's the truck now?"

"It was hauled away. I believe the police have been trying to contact Jackson." He gave me a look that sat somewhere between annoyance and disgust. "Wouldn't happen to know where he is, do you?"

"Yeah, I do. And thanks to you, he's in the same place I was."

Sam's eyebrows rose. "Why in the h.e.l.l would the sindicati want him?"

"As insurance. I give them the notebook, they free him."

"Well, that ain't going to happen."

I stared at him for a moment, unable to believe he'd actually said that. "What the h.e.l.l is that supposed to mean?"

"What do you think it means?" His expression was grim. "You've seen the red cloaks. You've seen what they can do. The life of one Fae is not worth the lives of the millions who could be affected if this thing gets out of control. We need the cure-or at the very least, a vaccine. To get it, we need those notes."

"If you think I'm going to let you sacrifice Jackson's life-"

"You haven't exactly got a choice here. You're in this car, with me, and you're not getting free of either anytime soon."

"What? You're going to chain me? Because that's the only d.a.m.n way you'll keep me captive."

"Well, there is the drug option. Or I could simply take you back to headquarters and lock you in one of our flameproof cells." He half smiled, but it was a cold thing, holding little in the way of amus.e.m.e.nt. "It was designed to hold pyrokinetics, so I'm thinking it should be fine against the fires of a phoenix."

I snorted. It might well be capable of withstanding the fires of a pyro, but he was forgetting one thing-I was a fire spirit. Of course, at this particular moment I was a fire spirit stuck in flesh form, but under normal circ.u.mstances, a cell of any sort wouldn't have held me. Not unless they'd employed witches to create magical barriers.

But I wasn't about to tell him that-why give him a heads-up? h.e.l.l, even if I didn't find myself in that cell, another phoenix might. While there was generally only one pair per city, it wasn't unusual for youngsters to linger in an occupied city for a few weeks or months while they were looking for a place to call their own. And there were always free cities-no older pair could ever remain in one place their entire lives. Sooner or later, it paid to move on-especially in places where hatred for nonhumans was high. Melbourne was pretty mild compared to some cities, but even so, Rory and I would risk only a few more rebirths here before we went searching for somewhere new. Personally, I was voting for any city that had more warm days than it did cold. Somewhere with bigger, wider sunsets where a firebird could enjoy the freedom of the skies every single night.

"For G.o.d's sake, Sam," I said, shoving away pleasant thoughts of warm skies and freedom, "when did it suddenly become okay to sacrifice even one life? You're still a cop, even if the department you work for has a fancy t.i.tle. Didn't you swear to protect and serve? To-as the force's motto says-uphold the right?"

He didn't answer. Didn't even look at me. But that lone muscle along his jawline was back in action. My words were hitting home, even if he wasn't responding. But would they make any difference? Once, maybe, but whatever had happened in the years since we'd parted had obviously altered at least some of the core beliefs and values of the man I'd once loved.

Would always love, no matter how much I fought it.

I sighed. "Look, I know we can't give the sindicati what they want, but, by the same token, you cannot seriously be saying you're going to let Jackson die. If you do, then you and PIT are no better than the things you hunt."

"Sometimes," he said, his voice holding a deep edge of bitterness, "you have to become the darkness if you're to have any hope of hunting it."

And he had become that darkness. It was in him, around him. But it hadn't yet totally consumed him. He wouldn't be arguing with me like this if it had. "The minute any society starts that sort of thinking, it dies. Trust me. I know."

He gave me another of those dark glances, blue eyes glinting fiercely in the gloom of the car. A tremor ran through me, fear and desire combined. "Just how old are you, Red?"

"Didn't your mother tell you it's impolite to ask a woman's age?"

"Meaning, I take it, you've had more than a few rebirths."

"Yes. I've seen Death in all her forms, and I have no desire to see her visit anyone I care about." I met his look evenly. "h.e.l.l, I don't want to see her visit someone I used to care about, which is why I saved your useless a.s.s in the first place."

"Bet you're regretting that decision now," he muttered. "Look, I'll do what I can, but if it comes down to the notebook or Jackson, the Fae is a goner. We need those notes to have any hope of gaining ground on this virus. The sindicati-or anyone else-are not getting their hands on it."

"Unfortunately," I said, "they've already warned that the minute they suspect PIT or police involvement, Jackson is dead."

"Then he dies. We have no other choice."

"There are always choices, Sam. You've just got to be open to them."

He made a short chopping gesture with his hand. "There is no alternative in this case, Red, and you know it."

The time had come to reveal the ace up my sleeve. And, hopefully, it would be an ace and not another brick wall.

"That's not exactly true," I said. "You know how we'd presumed they'd taken my laptop along with the notes? Well, they didn't. Rory has it."

"And you've known this how long?" he said, voice remote and all the more scary for it.

"Since about five minutes after I woke up in that field."

"And you didn't think to mention this earlier?"

"I did think about it, but I decided to see how reasonable you were going to be first."

He shook his head, his expression a mix of annoyance and frustration-which was infinitely better than that dark and scary anger. "And this alternative of yours?"

"We find the notebook," I said, "and you take it. In return, you let me keep the laptop so I can exchange it for Jackson."

"Haven't you listened to a single word I've said? The sindicati are not-"

"Getting Baltimore's notes," I interrupted. "Heard it, understood it. But I'm not intending to give them the notes. Not in their original condition, anyway."

He raised an eyebrow. "You intend to alter the formulas?"

"I may not understand what I type, but I'm familiar enough with Baltimore's work that I could fudge a couple of formulas and no one would be the wiser."

"Unless, of course, they check when the file was last accessed. I would."

"Yeah, but it'd be natural for me to open it to ensure it was still there."

"You don't have to open it to ensure that." He paused, expression thoughtful. "There is another option, however."

"What?" It was warily said, but I supposed I should be thankful he wasn't threatening to grab everything and lock me up. Not yet anyway.

"We insert a Trojan into the computer. One that will destroy all files the second time it's booted up."

I frowned. "Why the second time?"

"Because they will undoubtedly want to check that the file is present-and not obviously tampered with-before they hand over Jackson."

"Oh." I bit my lip for a moment, then added, "Can you access such a Trojan, though?"

He gave me the sort of look one would give a particularly thick child. "I wouldn't have suggested it if I couldn't."

"Meaning if you put this thing on the laptop, you'll let me meet with the sindicati? Alone?"

"If that's the way you want it, then yes. But just remember, the sindicati are not to be trusted. They are just as likely to kill you as release Jackson."

I remembered the vampire's promise. Remembered his anger at my doubting his word. They would let us walk away. Just how far we got-particularly now that I'd p.i.s.sed him off-was anyone's guess.

"They wouldn't want to try," I said quietly.

His gaze met mine. After a moment, he nodded. "We'll head to your place first-"

The ringing of a phone cut him off. He picked up the earpiece sitting in the cup holder and slipped it on. "Yes?"

I couldn't hear what was being said, but if Sam's expression was anything to go by, all was not well at PIT.

"When did this happen?" he growled. Darkness crowded the car's cabin again, its caress sending goose b.u.mps down my spine. And yet the element of sensuality was perhaps even stronger, attracting as fiercely as the darkness repelled.

I really, really wished I knew what the h.e.l.l it was.

"Many fatalities?" The reply was obviously yes, because the darkness became so fierce it was suddenly hard to breathe. "Keep me updated. Oh, and, Adam? You want to e-mail me that doc file Trojan? I need to set it up on a laptop."

With that, he pulled the earpiece out and threw it into the cup holder.

"Problems?" I said, a little breathlessly.

"You could say that." He shot me a glance that was pure fury-but this time, at least, it wasn't aimed at me. "It seems your boss just walked out of the morgue."

CHAPTER 13.