Shadows in Death (In Death #51) - J.D. Robb Page 0,66

just two feet away. “I’ll just cut you to pieces. Her first.”

With knife in hand, the man grabbed Eve by the hair. When the boy charged, Roarke lunged.

Into a void, and out of sleep.

That was a bad one.” Warm, strong, Eve’s arms wrapped around him. “I should know. I’m the expert. Lights on, ten percent. Bad dream, okay? Just a bad dream.”

She held on to him while the cat rubbed his head against Roarke’s side.

“I’m all right.”

“A bad one,” she repeated. “Bad enough for a soother.”

“I don’t need—”

“We’ll split one.” She stroked his cheek, shifted to get out of bed. “I’m not used to being on the other side of a nightmare, so I could use half.”

He figured that was likely bullshit, but he let it go.

“Do you want to tell me?”

“Dublin,” he began, and told her while she got the soother for both of them.

“So a mix of then and what’s going on now.” She drank her half, making sure—he knew—he did the same. “You’re worried about me on top of it. You should’ve dreamed me as a cop. We’d’ve kicked his asses together.”

“I’ll try to work that in next time.”

She set the empty glasses aside, then took his face in her hands. “We’re going to get him. We’re going to put him away. I swear it to you.”

“I trust you will.”

“Then trust this.” Now her whiskey-colored eyes held him as her hands did his face. “I know who he is. I know he’d love to kill me—just to hurt you, to break you. I won’t let it happen. I won’t let him hurt you that way. I swear that, too.”

He rested his brow on hers. “All right then. I know it, Eve, I can swear that back to you. And still, I fear it.”

“Don’t. I can’t—and don’t—promise you to come home safe every day I go out to work. But I’m promising you this. I’m giving you my word on it.”

She drew him back, curled against him, laid a hand over his heart. “In the dream, you said you told me they didn’t break us, and you were right. I’m telling you, Cobbe won’t, either.”

So he was soothed, a little at least, and willed himself to sleep in the quiet, in the now, while the love of his life held his heart.

13

Routinely, when Roarke woke at some ungodly hour to take a meeting in some weird place where the time insisted on being different, Eve didn’t stir.

But routine fell off the charts the minute Cobbe showed himself in the park.

So when Roarke started to slide out of bed in the dark, she shifted, grunted, blinked. “What the hell continent are you buying in the middle of the damn night?”

“Europe, but only a small portion. Go back to sleep.”

She rolled over with every intention of doing just that.

But lay awake.

She called for the time. Four-fifty-five.

How was that even possible?

She lay quiet while he showered, while he dressed, and considered he did this virtually every morning, quiet as a cat while she slept on.

She rolled back again when she heard—actually sensed more than heard—him leave the room. Called for lights, then studied the dark sky through the sky window over the bed.

She might not have a continent, or any portion thereof, to buy, but she had plenty of work.

So while the cat slept, she got up, inhaled coffee. Not enough, she decided, and threw on workout gear. Still half-asleep, she took the elevator down to the gym, programmed a run on the beach to get her blood moving.

She did a solid three miles, put in fifteen with weights, and worked up a nice sweat while her brain started to engage.

Back upstairs, she hit the shower, let the heat, the pummeling jets cap it off while she mentally organized her day.

Check the auto searches, and angle off from the results. Check any incoming reports and do the same.

Hit the morgue about the dead cat, Harvo at the lab about the same.

Prep for Inspector Abernathy.

Custom boots, she thought as she stepped into the drying tube. Custom suits. Reversible hoodies. Fancy salons.

Bits and pieces, she thought as she headed for her closet. She had lots of bits and pieces. Now she had to fit them together, expand the picture.

Since she had to consider wardrobe—it surrounded her, after all—she assessed her top priority. Moving fast when and if necessary.

Instead of grabbing pants at random, she searched through and found a pair that sort of melded workout gear with office wear. She hunted up a