Part 20 (1/2)

Kiko's voice sounded in Dawn's ear. ”Get him off the subject.”

Just what she'd been thinking. ”Youcan give Limpet a call, you know, have a nice chat, talk about the latest in investigator chic, that sort of thing.” h.e.l.l, earlier, during a briefing, The Voice had told her that he and Lonigan had talked, but she was running interference here.

”I've got no interest in chatting.”

His intense gaze was still on her. Out of pure habit, she summoned enough strength to block him from her mind- Get out!

-but all he did was tilt his head, like he was wondering why she'd scrunched up her face.

Great, she thought. She'd just crossed the line into overkill. Was she so desperate to keep everyone out?

Dawn stared at the table. Yeah. Yeah, she was.

But that didn't mean she still didn't want him inside of her in another, more physical way. She wasn't even sure why she craved him so much. And, if she was honest with herself, it was more than the usual longing for contact.

Was it because he was a challenge? A hard-to-get wish?

She went back to her salad, hopefully making Matt think she had no more suggestions about getting to know Limpet.She could feel his eyes on her.

”I have talked to him on the phone,” he said. ”It was all very civil and uninformative.”

Time to get back toheragenda now.

As she set down her fork, she started to toy with the chain around her neck, drawing out the small crucifix attached to it. She braced herself.

He glanced at the silver and...

Nothing. No cringing, no hissing.

Okay. So no response to a crucifix or garlic. But the servant at Bava had shown the same reaction. So was Matt just an unfortunate human partic.i.p.ant in a case that was getting weirder by the hour? Or was he really a servant, immune to these items because he still had a soul?

Matt's phone trilled. He took a glimpse at the call screen and grunted. ”I've got to take this.”

”No problem.” Dawn offered another smile, dropped her chain.

Again, kind of shyly, he grinned back at her, then got up and wandered to a secluded area while answering.

She tracked his exit, more intrigued than ever, more unsatisfied, too. These working hours were going to put a real crimp in her lifestyle. The night before last, The Voice had soothed her, filled her up for a short time, but now she was hungry again.

Dawn heaved her napkin to the table, burying her face in her hands. Even if her body was as taut as a rubber band pulled to its limits, she didn't want to go back to The Voice begging for another encounter. Sure, the experience had left her breathing easy afterward, but it had also alienated her, given her more self-doubt.

But, if she really admitted it, her personal life was the pits anyway. She'd always made excuses, said she'd settle into a normal relations.h.i.+p someday, just as soon as she'd sowed all those ever-lovin' wild oats. Problem was, she seemed to have an unlimited supply in her silo.

Her face was flushed from just dwelling on all this. s.h.i.+t.

”I'm going to the restroom to cool down,” she said to her audio friends.

”Does Dawn have a crush?” Kiko asked.

Ignoring him, she got up, made her way to where Matt had disappeared. She really wanted to tell Kiko where to stick it, but she didn't want to talk to herself and advertise that she was hooked up on Spy Satellite, Inc. Then again, this was L.A., so holding a one-way conversation might actually come off as pretty normal.

Yet the choice was made for her when she found Matt pacing near the bathrooms, phone to his ear, looking mighty upset. When he saw her, he ended the call.

”I hate to do this, but-”

”You've got to go.” She tried not to feel bruised by the brush off. ”Excuses, excuses.”

”I'm really sorry.”

”It's not like this was a date.” She stuck out her hand, a gracious loser. ”Best of luck with Frank, okay?” That was their cue to shake on it and leave everything at the status quo. But he wasn't walking away. No, he was standing there, mouth in a line.

”P.S.?” she added.

He spread out his hands, like he was surrendering. ”I'm trying to figure out how to do this gracefully.”

Ugh. She didn't like the sound of that, so she crossed her arms over her chest, preparing herself.

”I...” He ran a hand through his short brown hair, making it stand up. ”Here's the thing. I haven't had much of a social life, and I'm out of practice.”

Now she was confused. ”Seriously. Don't worry about leaving.”

”It'd just be...well, I suppose a real conflict of interest to see if you'd want to go out sometime.”

She loosened up, arms falling to her sides. In spite of herself, she broke into a dumb grin. ”Go out?”

He was talking about a date, right? Wasn't he? Had she really ever been on one of those? Oh, G.o.d. How did they work?

”It's probably a bad idea,” he said.

”I'd go.” What the h.e.l.l. ”I mean, on a date. Or. Whatever.”

He seemed surprised. ”You would.”

”When this is all over, of course. After I find Frank.”

”Or when I find him.” He smiled, but it wasn't shyly or nicely. For one splinter of a moment, she pictured herself in the sights on a hunting rifle.

Then he moved closer, reaching out to her, and the smile turned into that reticent gesture he flashed whenever he was comfortable enough to do it.

Sniffing, he pulled back.

Garlic. The oxygen lodged in her chest.

But then-light of all lights-he smiled again, an oddly knowing gesture. Then, hesitantly, he brushed his knuckles over her cheek.

His touch skimmed upward, pausing over the bare white scar she'd earned just above one brow, then downward, to touch her long earring.