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“Woof,” he murmured.
Then he stood, dropping a few bills on the table, and left. Crimson flooded her cheeks. I deserved that.
“Oh, I love your Jimmy Choos!”
Startled, she turned. A buxom blonde in a print dress stood before her table. At her side was a severe-looking businessman, a hint of silver in his short-cropped dark hair. He carried an expensive leather briefcase and wore a gray suit with a crisp red tie. The blonde was gorgeous. She carried a large designer purse on her arm and was staring at Sienna’s footwear.
Rather, her legs.
“Such fabulous shoes,” she gushed. “They display your legs nicely. You have great legs.”
“Samantha’s a connoisseur of fine footwear,” the man said. He gave her a small smile. “I apologize for taking up your time.”
The woman simpered, and squeezed Sienna’s hand. “Have a lovely day, darling!”
As they walked off, Sienna glanced down at her palm. In it was a card key in a white envelope that had instructions printed across it.
Her contacts. In disguise, most likely.
As her heart raced with trepidation, she put the card in her purse. This was worse than she’d been told if they couldn’t even meet in the open. Maybe she should back off. It wasn’t too late.
And then what? Go home in defeat? Live alone for the rest of her life, wondering what the black hole in her mind hid?
Finding the Orb meant more than acceptance back into her Fae colony. It meant recovering her lost memories. Everything in her early childhood was a panicked blur. Flashes of a forest, quiet waters and the terror of being shoved into a dark hollow, screams of terror raging around her, a hot crimson igniting the night sky … The snarls of a wolf, teeth bared as it tore into throats, blood splashing and flowing like water … then darkness.
A distant memory tugged, too deeply buried to surface. Every time she tried searching for her past, she met with a closed door. Who was she? Which side ruled her?
Fae or Draicon?
Draicon, no way in hell.
Sienna paid her bill, leaving a generous tip. As instructed, she took the elevator down, then lingered in the lobby for ten minutes, made certain no one was following her, then went upstairs.
The room had a connecting door. She opened it and entered a lavish suite.
The woman named Samantha was inside, sweeping the walls with a device that resembled the metal wand employed by airport security staff. She finished and turned with a cheerful grin. “Nothing. Clean. Not even a bedbug.”
Mischief danced in her brown eyes. “Need to check you, Miss McClare. A total pat-down. Don’t worry, I’m a professional when it comes to frisking women.”
She didn’t like the idea of this woman checking her over. It made her nervous. “Why the search? And the covert activity?”
“Can’t take any chances,” Samantha said.
“I can assure you, I’m not hiding anything.” Sienna clasped her hands, willed a smile. If this woman searched her, she’d get too nervous. Drop the glamour. The glamour fed her confidence, enabled her to look cool and professional.
Samantha gave her body an admiring glance. “Ah, not quite. There is definitely something about you.”
“Any excuse to flirt, huh, Shay?”
That deep, drawling voice, smooth as the burn of whiskey sliding down a parched throat. Sienna’s heart went still as Leather Jacket Draicon ambled with lethal grace through the connecting door, joined by the same dark-haired man who’d accompanied Samantha in the lobby bar.
The Draicon halted and stared. Ice glittered in his sharp blue gaze as he closed the door.
“You? Hell on wheels, this has to be a damn joke. Who are you?” he snapped.
The dark-haired man gestured to the Draicon. “Sienna McClare, meet Lieutenant Matthew Parker, U.S. Navy SEAL. Matt, Sienna’s Seelie Sidhe Fae from the Los Lobos colony.”
Lieutenant Parker looked stunned. “She’s a Draicon.”
“I’m not.”
“Prove it, sweetheart.” His voice was low and dangerous. “Because if you’re one, and not the Fae we’re expecting, you’re in a heap of trouble.”
All three looked at her. Sienna forced down her nervousness. She released the glamour to show her natural form. Pale, nearly translucent skin replaced the slightly darker tint. Her eyes became larger and more slanted. She pushed back her hair to display her pointed ears.
“There. Satisfied? I’m Fae, not a Draicon werewolf. Now, can I ask, what’s going on and who you are?”
The dark-haired man gave a slight smile. “Lieutenant Commander Dale Curtis, commanding officer of SEAL Team 21. Sorry for the precautions, Miss McClare. It’s necessary for security reasons. Lieutenant Parker will be partnering with you on this mission….”
“I’m sorry. I can’t work with this man.”
“Sit down, Miss McClare.”
The order was said in a soft tone, but steel threaded through the commander’s voice. Sienna sat, clenching her hands, refusing to look at the Draicon.
“Let’s get one thing straight before we start,” Lieutenant Commander Curtis said as he joined her. “This arrangement goes against my guts. I wanted my team alone on this. It’s too risky. The Fae are insular. Your aunt didn’t even want to meet. We had to work out details in a damn telephone conference. Unfortunately, she had a point. And a weapon I can’t do anything about. She can control the weather.”
Now a grim smile played on his mouth. “Unless I’d like a permanent hailstorm in Little Creek, we have to work together. You know the Orb, and your ability to glamour is powerful. I agreed to this, but no Fae is going to dictate the SEAL I chose. I don’t care if my house gets pelted by hail for the next thirty days. You’re with Matt. He’s a damned fine tracker. He could find an ice cube in a snowstorm.”
Sienna’s cheeks burned. She gestured to the blonde, who looked amused at the tension.
“I’d rather work with a woman,” she told him. “What about her? I don’t need a navy SEAL.”
Lieutenant Parker laughed. “Shay?”
Stunned, she watched Samantha’s body and face shimmer, and change shape. Full, lush lips became firm, the round cheekbones concave …
Replacing Samantha was a man dressed in black jeans and a cutoff black T-shirt. A shock of sandy-brown hair spilled down to his collar. Boyish mischief danced in his hazel eyes as he took a seat opposite her.
“Chief Petty Officer Sam Shaymore at your service, Miss McClare.”
Sienna gave him a warm smile. Finally, someone she could relate to. “You’re a Fae.”
Lieutenant Parker took a chair, swung it around and straddled it. “Shay’s a Phantom. A Mage who can shift into any kind of life-form.”
“Just one of my talents.” Shaymore opened a palm. A current of electricity sizzled there. He closed his fist, and the energy vanished.
Unease raced through her as she studied Shaymore, leaning back in his chair and folding his heavily muscled arms. Mage. They were much higher on the food chain than Seelie Sidhe. Some were endowed with powers that could cut a Fae in half before she could chant a spell.
She slid her chair out from the table and glanced at Lieutenant Commander Curtis. “Are all of you … paranorms?”
Curtis flicked a hand and she found herself sliding back toward the table, as if an invisible, courtly hand had pushed her chair in. “Primary Mage.”
Sweet mercy, a Draicon, and two Mages. Three powerful men who made her magick look puny and small. They studied her like an insect pinned on a board. Sienna resisted the urge to bolt. She lifted her chin and forced herself to calm.
“Primary Mages can do advanced telekinesis, throw energy bolts and shift into animal form. Just to let you know.” Contempt etched Lieutenant Parker’s face. “Or didn’t they teach you that in forest school?”
“Lieutenant Parker, are you going to have a problem working with Miss McClare?” Curtis’s tone was even, but held an edge of command.
“No, sir.”
Words seemed forced, his jaw taut. Chief Petty Officer Shaymore looked amused. “I can work with her. Be a real pleasure and I can be friendlier than old sour wolf here.”
“Screw you, Shay.”
“Up yours, Dakota.”
Parker gave a mocking grin. “Go grow a set. Steel ones.”
“Nothing wrong with mine. That’s what all the ladies say.”
They were a team, males who shut her out. Sienna gave them a cool look. “All the ladies?” she asked politely. “Or just the ones you disguise yourself as?”
The men turned and stared. A deep laugh rumbled from Lieutenant Parker’s throat.
The rich sound was as enticing as warm chocolate on a cold night. Sienna guarded herself against it. This man was a Draicon wolf.
Parker checked his laugh. “You mind changing back? Those ears are distracting, Mr. Spock.”
Sienna fought the urge to glamour into a poodle. What was his problem? She assumed her human form and pointedly ignored him.
“I don’t care what history you both share. Whatever it was, it ends now. I need both of you sharp, alert and working together as a team.” Curtis leaned forward. “This goes beyond any personal differences. Understood?”
“Yes, sir,” Parker said as Sienna nodded. When everyone sat at the table, Curtis began.
“We’re meeting here because ST21’s compound may be compromised….”
“ST21?” she asked.
“SEAL Team 21,” Curtis explained, snapping open his briefcase and pulling out a file. He handed a sheaf of papers to Parker, along with credit cards and a thick wad of cash. “Your cover to find the Orb is a couple traveling the country and looking for antiques. Miss McClare will be posing as your wife.”
“Sister,” the lieutenant said roughly.
“Fine. I’m placing you on official leave, Matt, to cover your absence. Can’t take chances.”
Sienna held up a hand. “Can you please explain what’s going on?”
Silence hung in the air. No one looked at her. She sensed no one wanted to tell her, or work with her. They were a team and she wasn’t one of them.
Just as the Fae had, they were shutting her out.
“I don’t like this. We don’t need to work with a Fae. I can find the Orb on my own.” Parker gave her a pointed look. “I don’t trust the Fae. It was a Fae bullet that—”
He cut off his words, staring at the wall.
Oh-kay. Wonderful. She’d made enemies just by flashing her ears. Sienna swept them all with a level look. “Are any of you, or anyone in ST21, an expert in Old Sidhe? Can you decipher Fae runes?”
Not waiting for an answer, she continued. “Scribbled on the Orb are ancient Fae runes. The runes reveal the Orb’s magick and will only react to someone of Fae blood, or someone who’s absorbed a power burst from the Orb. Since no one’s touched the Orb in years, except for the Draicon who stole it, you’re stuck with me or another Fae of your choice. Unless you want to check out every crystal ball from here to California.”
“No Draicon stole the Orb,” Parker said, glaring at her.
Curtis’s expression became stony. “I agreed to have you on this assignment, Miss McClare, against my will. Lieutenant Parker’s identity has been exposed. His life is in danger. No one must know Matt is a Draicon. No paranorms, no humans, not even the POTUS.”
At her confused expression, he added, “President of the United States. Is that clear, Miss McClare?”
She nodded, feeling sweat bead on her forehead.
“You know how powerful the Orb is,” Curtis continued.
“It serves as an amplifier to enhance a person’s natural power, both dark and light, which is why it’s dangerous,” she interrupted. “And it reveals the truth about whatever one desires. For example, if you want to know the true identity of a Fae you suspect is using glamour, you consult the Orb.”
Curtis glanced at Matt, emotion shadowing his gaze. “The person who stole the Orb used it to sell intel about Lieutenant Parker and his teammate. They were ambushed by pyrokinetic demons. The demons burned Lieutenant Parker’s partner and nearly killed Matt.”
Sienna choked back a horrified gasp. The Orb was being used for evil? She had hoped it was merely lost. Now the stakes were much bigger. Pity filled her as she looked at Lieutenant Parker, his expression tight with pain and grief.
“How do you know the Orb is to blame?”
“We have sources. And we have a leak, which is why we’re meeting in secret.” Curtis turned to the lieutenant. “Shay’s providing backup on this op. He’ll brief you.”
Once again, they’d shut her out, as if closing a door. Shaymore opened the briefcase that had been cloaked as a large Coach purse, and pulled out a fat envelope.
Bile rose in her throat as she studied the photographs he displayed on the table. They were horrifying in their simple, stark details. Bodies, unrecognizable and charred, lay scattered on the sands. Their hands curled into claws, stretching out to the sky.
“One of our paranorm assets discovered they’d torched an entire village after attacking you, Dakota. A community of friendlies.”
Sienna swallowed past her gorge. “Why?” she whispered.
Parker leaned across the table, his gaze searing hers. “Because that’s what they do, Miss McClare. These demons feed off fire and terror. It infuses them with energy and power.”
Sienna had a nagging suspicion she’d seen this kind of nasty work before. But she couldn’t place it.
“They’ve been kept in check before because the bolt holes barring entry into our dimension were secured. About two months ago, a group of Darksider rogue Fae opened a bolt hole in an abandoned building in Nevada scheduled for demolition. Using explosives they’d stolen from Libya, they managed to free four pyrokinetic demons before our people sealed the breach. The pyro demons then torched a nearby apartment building, killing twenty-six people.”
She felt sick to her stomach. Her own kind had helped do this?
Shaymore dug out a photograph from the purse. “This is a pyrokinetic demon.”
Sienna stared at the mottled gray skin, the angry red slash of a mouth, the tapered, long fingers ending in sharp talons. “How could they move among the humans if they look like this?”
