bothered with much makeup, she had a fondness for deep, dark red lipstick. It was stunning against her pale skin, and she liked that a lot.
Before she slid out of her ridiculously priced cabin, she slicked a shade just a bit darker than blood over her lips, paused to study the effect, and smiled.
She was dressed to impress these days, trying to catch the eye of a particular man.
Not that he seemed to be paying much attention.
But he would. He’d notice sooner or later.
It was, after all, why Nalini was here.
Grabbing a little purse that echoed the snakeskin design of her skirt, she headed to the door. Her heels clacked on the tile, a sharp, decisive sound.
Maybe it would happen tonight.
But then again, if it didn’t, it didn’t matter.
She had reasons for being here, and in the end, her patience would pay off.
* * *
THE fucker took forever, Joss thought, brooding as he slumped on the couch.
He’d been out there for more than a few minutes, and Joss knew exactly why he was taking so long—the stream of his thoughts was unending. He could shut that door, but he needed to know what he was dealing with—shutting the door just wasn’t an option.
Yeah, you check those plates, dumb ass, Joss thought sourly. He’d done the same himself and the car tracked back to Mr. Mike Sellers, nice, normal dude who did indeed have himself listed as a computer system tech, freelance. Contract labor. Sellers always paid his bills on time, paid his taxes on time, and had a modest monthly budget that he stuck to without fail.
There was nothing a quick surface look would tell him about Mike Sellers. Joss knew because Taylor had already done one.
Joss muttered to himself as he got up and headed back to the bar. He splashed some more whiskey into his glass and tossed it back. It was smoother than he was used to and, he had to admit, there just might be something to be said for paying an arm and a leg for the good shit.
Still, he would settle for a bottle of Jack Daniels and he planned on having one after this mess was said and done. Getting shit-faced drunk might dull some of the images in his mind, and as soon as humanly possible, he was going to get resynced so he could strip away this excessive power surge.
He didn’t know how Jillian—
If this goes well—
The thoughts in the man’s mind came to a halt. Joss stiffened as he felt the predatory surge of interest and he closed his eyes, focused, concentrated. The man had seen something—no, somebody.
A woman.
Walking down the long, winding road, swinging a little purse, swinging her ass, every move a physical seduction. She was almost even with the monster standing outside Joss’s cabin, and something about her face was familiar . . . the hair was wrong. Long and blond, hanging in a thick fall down her back, but those eyes.
Yeah. Familiar.
She glanced over, like she’d just noticed the man watching her.
Joss hissed out a breath.
The slow curl of her lips, those wide, dark eyes.
Then she winked.
He growled and pushed out with that gift.
But all he could touch were the same minds he’d felt earlier. All those open, vulnerable minds. Not hers. Hers wasn’t open, wasn’t vulnerable.
As the woman continued walking, strutting with every step, Joss closed his eyes.
“What in the . . .”
Then he groaned.
He had the weirdest damn feeling that wink had been meant for him. As though she was aware of him, although that shouldn’t be possible.
“Shit, isn’t this job complicated enough?”
There was no time even to contemplate the complications, though, because his visitor decided he’d waited long enough. Joss felt him moving closer—literally felt it, like the guy’s very brain waves grew in frequency or something. No. Like a radio was moving closer to him.
How in the hell did Jillian manage to function like this?
He shoved it out of his mind and did one last mental exercise to calm himself—blue seas, unfurling out before him, the sun sinking down to meet the horizon. At his back were mountains and there was nobody around . . .
The knock came. It was polite. Firm.
Joss felt it to the very essence of his soul, and with it, he felt the man’s evil.
Wiping his emotions from his face, he shored up his shields. Modify the fucking door . . . let me see what I need to see, he thought. If Jillian’s power was that strong,