Shadowdance(98)

“The situation is delicate. He is killing our agents, and he must be made accountable.” Moore’s expression grew pinched, and her hands clenched in her lap. “However, he is also under the protection of one of our top counselors. This counselor is not under Nex control. He does what he wants. And, at the moment, he wants Talent alive, regardless of our concerns. They are working together for their own selfish ends.”

“And you cannot go over this man’s head?” Mary asked incredulously.

Moore grimaced. “He is not one we want to upset.”

“So you want me to take Talent out of the equation? And thus spare you the trouble of gaining this man’s wrath?” Mary laughed. “Pardon me if I don’t jump at the opportunity.”

“We do not want you to kill him. We want you to talk him out of his present course of action.”

Again Mary laughed. “Why on earth do you believe I would do such a thing? Or that he would even listen? He might just as well kill me for what I know, if you are telling the truth.”

Moore smiled like the toad that had snared the fly. “Because you love him. Just as he loves you.”

Love? Jack’s taste was still in her mouth, his touch, his tender words, all of it was a ghost in Mary’s head, haunting her. For one precious moment, Mary had begun to believe in love. Then Jack Talent had pulled the rug out from beneath her feet.

“Come now, Miss Chase, it is written all over your skin.”

Mary focused on her present predicament. “You are grasping at straws. You have picked the wrong one. I have wanted to bring Talent down for four years. In fact, the way I feel about him right now, you’d do better asking me to kill him for you.”

Moore shrugged. “Then you get to play the part of good little regulator and turn him in. Or kill him. It matters not to me.”

“If Mr. Talent loves me as you say,” and how it hurt to utter those words, “you could achieve the same result by simply threatening my life.” Mary didn’t want to give them ideas, but they had to have contemplated as much. She needed further information.

“That approach would only serve to exacerbate the situation,” said Moore. “This is quite simple. You shall either agree and talk him out of it.” Because if Mary was lying and she did love Jack, she would do anything to save him from ruin. And Moore’s smug expression said as much. “Or,” she continued, “you solve our problem for us. Regardless, we get what we want without any culpability.”

There were threads here going far beyond Mary’s ken. Her mind raced forward. “There is still the matter that you offer no proof of Mr. Talent’s wrongdoing. You understand, I have no reason to trust your word.”

Moore rose and swept her trailing skirts out of the way. “Come with me and you shall see your proof.”





Chapter Twenty-Six





Deep in the darkest part of the shadows, Mary stood. A light rain had begun an hour ago, only to turn into a downpour. Now, despite her thick black cloak, her skin was damp and cold. No matter. She did not move, but watched and waited. Concentrating on her breathing kept her still, and, every few minutes, lifting one and then the other foot just a fraction kept her circulation flowing and her muscles alert. She feared it would be a long wait this night. Sensible humans were tucked up in taverns, sitting out the rain by drinking and carousing. And because their prey was inside, the scum that fed on them were tucked up as well. Waiting.

It seemed everyone waited.

Water ran along her icy cheeks, beaded in her lashes, and clung to her lips. She did not move. He would not come. She knew it in her bones. It was only a matter of time and patience to prove Moore mistaken. Before her lay Trafalgar Square, abandoned save for a few industrious rats, picking away at refuse that was scattered about. Residual light from the city cast an eerie blue-green glow along the glistening pavers and against wet brick buildings.

“Soon,” whispered Moore at her side. “Soon he will come.”

Mary quelled the urge to flee. She’d spied on Jack once before and had vowed never to do it again. Yet here she was. A twinge went through her body, and she almost turned away when she felt him. Not in a touch, but in the way the energy in the air shifted. Few would ever understand that the world was filled with frequencies of energy. Constant vibrations buffeted her spirit, and each being had a unique feel. Jack Talent’s was now more familiar to her than any.

He approached from the east, his movements slow but steady. Darkness cloaked him, and she was too far away and too hidden to see his expression. Everything in her froze as he drew nearer. Would he sense her as she did him? Scent her? However he did not look left or right, but simply moved toward Nelson’s Column.