Sia thought back to Trygg’s reaction when he learned the police had been called to the shelter. “Do you think any of the JUSTIS officers who came here tonight are connected to him?”
He shrugged. “Possibly. Hell, it’s damn probable.”
“I’m sorry,” Sia murmured. “I’m sorry that Rosa is dead and I wasn’t able to save her. But I’m sorry if my actions tonight have gotten in the way of your mission. Sometimes it feels like everything I touch, I ruin.”
Trygg’s scowl deepened. “You did what you had to, Tamisia. No one can fault you for that.”
“Not even you?”
His brows rose, but he didn’t take the bait. “Go inside now. You shouldn’t be out here.”
Whether he meant outside in general or specifically with him, she wasn’t certain. He stepped back from her, putting more than an arm’s length between them. Sia told herself the chill she felt was merely the night air, not the forbidding nature of the man whose haunted gaze refused to leave hers.
She waited for him to say something, to tell her good night or to growl that he hoped their paths never crossed again.
But Trygg said nothing.
Aloof and impossible to read, he merely turned and walked away without looking back.
Sia watched him until the inky darkness had swallowed him up.
Chapter 4
As soon as the sun set the next night, Trygg hit the pavement on another solo patrol. He’d been twitchy as hell to get back in the city, not only because Lazaro Archer and Lucan Thorne had both taken a bite out of his ass after the debacle at the shelter last night, but also because Trygg hated the knowledge that every hour Santino was allowed to breathe was another chance for the bastard to peddle more Red Dragon and enslave more members of the Breed population.
Trygg was back at square one on his hunt for Santino’s lair, and he had a lot of ground to make up fast.
So why the fuck was he parked in one of the Order’s black SUVs down the street from the women’s shelter again instead of working new leads?
In a word, Tamisia.
His encounter with her last night continued to nag at him for a host of reasons he had no desire to analyze. Chief among them—or so he told himself—was the fact that Franco and his human cohort had been convinced the dead woman, Rosa, had possessed something they wanted.
Ergo, something Santino wanted.
Trygg didn’t think anyone else at the shelter was in any danger from the kingpin or whoever might be tapped to replace Franco in the organization, but that didn’t mean he wanted to leave Tamisia and the other females unprotected. The Atlantean could handle herself, he had no doubt. But for the time being, Trygg would make a point of keeping a personal watch on the house and its residents.
Besides, it was only sound reconnaissance to want to know if Santino or his men had any reason to come sniffing around the place again.
Odds were whatever they’d been looking for had likely been picked up by JUSTIS in their processing sweep of Rosa’s room and was locked in an evidence hold somewhere at the main station in the city. Santino surely realized that himself by now as well. And if the bastard had his hooks in anyone at the station, he either had access to the items already or would be making his own plans to get his hands on them soon.
Trygg needed to get there first. Which meant it was time to end this little side trip and start putting his last several hours of research to the test. He’d hacked in and downloaded the building schematics of the station. Unless there had been a major renovation in the past six months, the evidence room was on the basement floor in the northwest corner of the building. All he needed to do was determine the best infiltration plan.
The fastest way would be to go in stealth through a window or a portal on the roof, but that meant having to traverse the whole station from inside in order to get to the evidence cages below ground level. Flashing past the humans with his unearthly speed would be cake, but there was no hope of avoiding being spotted by any one of JUSTIS’s Breed officers.
As much as he disliked the risk of walking through the front door, it could be the only way. Hiding in plain sight might be his best method of cover. Unless he could create some kind of diversion big enough to allow him to skate past unnoticed.
He was running various options in his head when he spied Tamisia exiting the shelter. He scowled, every bit of his focus now trained on the woman who’d been on his mind too damn much already.
She stepped out to the street in front of the house where a taxi had rolled to a stop to meet her. Her platinum hair was gathered loosely in a twist at her nape. A creamy silk blouse clung enticingly to her breasts, unbuttoned just far enough to give a tantalizing glimpse of the valley between them. Faded jeans hugged her endless legs and long, lean curves.
Taken at a whole, the look was casual, even unremarkable, yet sexy as hell on Sia.
Trygg’s cock more than approved. Arousal stirred like a lick of wildfire, all but trumping his dark and growing curiosity.
What the hell was she up to?
She climbed into the taxi and the car took off. Trygg followed at a covert distance, his veins crackling with suspicion.
