“You can tell him the exact same as yesterday. Or I’m happy to speak with him.” One would think whatever he hoped she’d uncover would be a helluva lot more important than it likely was. Ancient scrolls, tomes, and journals held great historical value, especially regarding religion and the ways beliefs influenced world order. Yet, the chances of her uncovering anything significant this soon were slim.
But a nerdy girl could dream.
“What good are you if you can’t decipher a few?—”
“Careful,” she warned. “I’m not here to take your shit, Sal.”
“That’s exactly why you’re here.” He shifted closer, and the lust on his face was mixed with an uglier emotion she couldn’t quite name. Hate? Fear? Absolutely the need to harm.
Thunder shook the building, and rather than feel alarm, she grew annoyed. The freak storms in this area sprang up at inopportune moments. Now she had to try to beat the rain to the train.
“Touch me, and I’ll delight in breaking each and every one of your fat sausage fingers. Don’t think I don’t know how,” she bluffed, as she stuffed the papers into her satchel and closed her hand around her taser.
“Don’t flatter yourself,” he sneered. “But the notes stay in this room.”
Their stare-off lasted all of ten heartbeats.
Then, Nadia did what she always had in situations like these. She channeled Kickass Katie.
With a raised chin and an eat-shit-and-die glare, she said, “I’m taking them to work on this weekend. If you have a problem with it, fucking fire me.”
Thunder rumbled, long and loud, creating a mini-earthquake inside the room. The table rocked, nearly knocking over the faux Tiffany lamp as the cheap, dime-a-dozen landscapes on the wall clattered.
Panic flashed across his visage, and he glanced skyward, as if able to see through the ceiling.
Nadia bolted.
She breathed easier once she’d cleared the building’s exit. Weirdly, the weather seemed fine, and no one outside appeared fazed by the earthquake.
As Nadia hustled toward the train terminal, she ruminated over the things she’d like to do to Sal. Starting with cutting off his balls and working upward from there. The bastard had made her late for her connection—again—with his “my boss wants a status report” ploy.
The fucking pervert!
Growling low in her throat, she stomped down the sidewalk.
She’d be damned lucky to catch the 405.
Storm clouds finally made an appearance, gathering overhead in time with her building temper. Soon enough, she’d be stuck in a deluge.
“Great! Just freaking great!” she snarled.
Strangers on the walk widened the distance between them as they shot her the side eye.
When she was only two blocks from the station, a flashy red Corvette pulled up alongside her. The car was as familiar to her as the dickweed who drove it. It wasn’t the first time Sal had stalked her.
“Nadia?” he called.
She snorted. As if he didn’t already know the route she took home, the tool! After today, she would mix things up and find another route. Or buy a vehicle. Pretending she didn’t hear him was petty, but it gave her immense satisfaction.
“Nadia!”
She trudged on.
Again, he hollered her name, and again, she avoided looking in his direction.
“I believe Salvokos is calling your name.”
Luc’s deeply amused voice startled a squeak from her. Rhythm lost, she barely avoided a lamppost. He emerged from the shadows, similar to the night they’d met.
