“About time, partner.”
Luke’s gaze shot to the right.
“I was beginning to think you’d bailed on me and—ah…” The guy, tall, lean, with close-cropped black hair, winced and his gray eyes narrowed. “Trouble at home, eh?” There was a hint of laughter beneath the question.
He grunted. “Armed robbery. Had to take a perp down.”
“Showoff.” The agent shook his head even as he extended his hand. “Trying to make the rest of us look bad on your first day? Real bad business, that…”
Luke took the hand, squeezed once, then dropped his hold. “Sorry,” Luke said and cleared his throat. “Maybe next time I’ll let the bad guy get away.”
A smile broke the man’s face. “Name’s Kenton Lake. And Dante, I think it’ll be… interesting having you here.”
Here. The only unit in the Bureau solely dedicated to tracking and trapping serials. Rapists. Killers. Even the serial kidnappers who stalked the streets.
“I’d heard you were a bit… strong-willed when it comes to your work,” Kenton said.
Yeah, and Luke could just imagine where the guy had heard that. But he was pretty sure “strong-willed” hadn’t quite been the adjective used. “I believe in getting the job done.”
One brow rose. “By any means necessary?”
“Damn close.” He’d clashed with other agents before. So if the guy thought he was reckless for chasing down that perp, well, it wouldn’t be the first time.
And it wouldn’t be the last.
“We’re a team here, Dante. No one-man show. Remember that, and you’ll be fine.”
Luke inclined his head. He wasn’t about stealing glory. Just helping the victims. His eyes scanned the line of offices. “Everyone here is part of the team?”
“Part, but not the core. The core’s waiting for you—” He jerked his thumb toward a closed conference room door. “Right inside.”
And he got to meet them all covered in blood. Fair enough.
“Lead the way.”
The smile widened. “You know, I can’t decide, but I think I’m going to like you, Dante.”
Then he turned and headed toward the conference room. Luke took a deep breath.
When he crossed the threshold into the room, the first person he saw was…
Her. Oh, Jesus.
Luke wasn’t aware that he’d sucked in a sharp breath. He just knew his cock was twitching, and the temperature in the room had gotten very—
A snort from beside him. “Don’t even think it, man. Not going to happen.”
But Luke didn’t take his eyes off her as he and Kenton slid into two empty chairs in the back.
The woman stood at the front of the room, her hands lightly gripping either side of a podium. Her midnight black hair teased her cheeks, the short blunt cut ending just under her slightly pointed chin. The woman’s skin was smooth, perfect and pale, and her eyes—
So blue.
Monica Davenport. Already a legend in the department, and she was barely easing past thirty. One of the best profilers going. She had like, what? Three, four degrees?
And a hell of a lot of field experience. An agent who didn’t take shit.
One who also had a reputation for being pure ice.
Pity, because from the outside, she sure was the stuff hot, wet dreams were made of.
His dreams, anyway.
Those brilliant eyes locked on him. His lips started to curl. But not even a flicker of recognition crossed her face.
Ice.
Her voice, smooth and easy, continued without so much as a hitch. “With assistance from our team, local authorities in Waylon, Virginia, apprehended the perpetrator last night, and the Midnight Strangler’s latest victim, Julia Marcus, was returned alive to her family.”
A round of applause. A whistle from the Lucy Liu lookalike up front.
“This is the ninth serial case closed by the SSD since its inception six months ago—”
“But our work is just getting started,” a deep, could-be-the-voice-of-God rumble interrupted. Luke straightened. He knew that voice. Keith Hyde. Hell, the guy was the Serial Services Division. The group was his idea, his baby, and he’d handpicked every member of the team.
Luke had been passed over in that first hand-picking, but when Mark Lane had taken a leave of absence from the team, he’d fought and finally shoved his way inside the all but closed door. This was where he wanted to be. Needed to be.
The briefest hint of a smile lifted Monica’s full lips as she ceded the floor to Hyde.
Hyde nodded to the assembled agents. The guy was huge, with thick shoulders and skin as dark as night. He smiled, a real smile, not like Monica’s, and flashed his perfect, white teeth. “We’re kicking ass, people, and I’m proud of every single one of you.”
Some laughter there. Grins lightened the tense faces of some of the other agents in the room.
“But we’re just gettin’ started. Nine down, the fucking rest of the serials to go.” Hyde’s eyes zeroed in on him. “And… we’ve got a new member on our team. One who finally decided to show up.”
Luke winced.
“Better late than never, huh, buddy?” Kenton murmured.
When Hyde’s eyes narrowed, Luke shot to his feet. “Sir. Glad to be a part of the division—”
“You should be. We’re the best in the business.” He pointed to the lady beside him. Lucy Liu. Uh, no, she was—“This is Kim Donalds, and don’t let her size fool you, she’s one of the toughest agents I’ve ever seen.”
Kim turned to face him fully. Almond shaped eyes—dark green—stared up at him, measuring him. Weighing.
A sprinkle of freckles covered her nose. Small, delicate, but—
Deadly.
He knew about Kim, too. Pretty package, one slyly concealing the perfect hunter inside.
“You’ve already met Kenton.”
The guy saluted him.
“This is Jon Ramirez, he’s an—”
“Ex-sniper.” Luke gave the hard-eyed shooter a nod. “I’ve been doing my homework, sir.” Jon Ramirez had fought like hell with the army in the Middle East, only to come home and join the Bureau.
“Then do you know me, too?” Another woman. A tall, thin redhead with wire-framed glasses. Her lips pursed as her gaze met his.
“Samantha Kennedy, computer genius extraordinaire.” Yeah, he knew about her. She’d gotten her Ph.D. in computer sciences from MIT before she’d turned eighteen, and been drafted by the government within the year. She’d made a switch to the Bureau just a few months back.
Samantha flushed and dropped her gaze. “Ah… yeah. That’s me.”
“And you’re Luke Dante…” Low, husky.
Monica.
“The bad-ass from the South who managed to bring down the Sorority Stalker all by yourself.” One black brow rose. “Impressive.”
Not really. He’d stumbled onto the asshole when he’d been tracking down witnesses. He’d gotten lucky—another two inches, and Carl Malone’s knife would have driven into his heart, instead of just giving Luke his latest tough-guy scar.
He forced a smile. “I do what I can.”
Hyde glanced between them. “So I’m guessing you also know our lead profiler, Monica Davenport.”
Yeah, he did. “We’ve met.”
Glacial blue eyes held his.
“Good.” Hyde reached into his briefcase and yanked out a stack of manila files. He passed one to Luke and handed another to Monica. “You two are heading out on a plane to Jasper, Mississippi, in about…” A quick glance at the gold watch on his wrist. “Three hours.” Two more folders were tossed to Kenton and Samantha. “You two are backup.”
Luke’s hold on the file tightened when Hyde added, “The sheriff down there thinks he’s got himself a serial.”
Monica cocked her head. “Does he?”
“Don’t know—that’s for you and Dante to figure out. The guy’s got two dead bodies. Different CODs, but the sheriff think
s he’s looking for the same killer.”
Usually a serial used the same manner of death for his victims. Almost like performing a ritual again and again. Two different causes of death didn’t seem to fit—
“Read the files,” Hyde ordered. “Then get your asses on the plane.” He clapped his hands once. “That’s it, get back to work—and damn good job.”
Luke blinked and glanced down at the file. Kenton patted him on the shoulder. “Get ready to pop that cherry, man, looks like you’re up—”
Luke cut him off, firing out, “Thought we were working together, partner.”
A wide grin. His dad would have called it a shit-eating grin. “Ah, man, that was just bullshit. Teams change here every week. You trust us all, or you don’t trust anyone.”
Good to know.
Kenton leaned toward him. “Good luck with Ice. You’re going to need it.”
Ice.
Monica shoved the file into her bag and walked toward him. The room had emptied, fast. Other than Kenton, he and Monica were the only agents left.
“You screw up, she’ll eat you alive.” Another slap on his shoulder. “Have fun down South.”
He’d just come from the South. Hot as hell weather. Humidity that killed. And southern drawls that he loved.
Drawls like the one that whispered just beneath Monica’s words.
Monica brushed by him, not even saying a word.
Well, damn. So much for a big, warm welcome.
He kinda would have expected a bit more from the woman who’d once given him the best sex of his life.
Ice… his ass.
Shit but she had bad luck.
Monica sucked in a deep breath. Then another one. And another. Her heart thudded against her ribs.
Here. Of all the divisions and teams in the Bureau, Luke Dante had come—
“What do you think of the hot guy?”
Her eyes snapped closed. Samantha.
“Did you see him?”
It would have been kind of hard not to see him, considering Luke had been in the meeting with them. Her lashes lifted.
A long sigh from Samantha, then she said, “When he turned those eyes on me—and did you see those eyes?—I swear I felt my skin burn.”
Kicking with her right foot, Monica swiveled her chair away from the window and turned to face the agent. “May I help you with something, Sam?” She let more than a hint of impatience slip into her voice. She didn’t have time to listen to Sam moon over Dante. She sounded bitchy. So what?
Being a cold bitch let her avoid conversations like this one. Usually.
This wasn’t Gossip High. This was the FBI, for God’s sake. But Samantha, who’d just celebrated her twenty-third birthday, had a hard time respecting boundaries.
Samantha’s eyes widened behind her glasses.
Kid genius. Super smart, but not too socially savvy.
“Uh… I—I… was just…”
Great. Now Monica felt like she’d kicked a puppy. One with really big brown eyes.
“Hyde wanted you to have this.”
Another file.
Monica reached for the file. “Thanks, Samantha.” Apologize? She probably should, but the words stuck in her throat.
For someone who was supposed to be so adept at figuring people out, she pretty much sucked at the social scene, too.
Samantha whirled around and hurried for the door.
“Sam—”
She froze.
“Thanks for the file,” Monica said softly.
A curt nod.
The door clicked closed behind the other woman. Didn’t slam, just… closed.
Monica shook her head. Oh, yes, she knew how to make friends fast. It had always been a strength for her.
She glanced at the file, flipped it open—
And saw the ravaged body of a woman.
Blood and death—now that was what she understood.
Hyde stopped Monica just as she was leaving the office. His dark eyes were hooded as he stared at her. “You okay with this case?”
They were in the hallway, just beside her door. She glanced to the left, then the right, making sure they wouldn’t be overheard. “I told you I didn’t think bringing Dante on the team was the best plan.” Oh, she’d told him more than a few times.
But Hyde shook his head. “Not talking about Dante, we need him.” A long exhalation. “You work the killers, he works the victims. It’s the perfect setup.”
Perfect, maybe, but that didn’t mean she had to like it.
“If you need me on this one, you call right away, got it?”
She nodded. Hyde was always there if she needed him. If any of the agents needed him. “I will.” But she could handle the case—and Luke Dante.
CHAPTER Two
So… are we gonna talk about it?”
Monica froze at the deep voice. Her notes were spread in front of her, the shade on her window firmly closed—because she really hated to fly—and with only about ten minutes left on the private flight, it looked like Dante had decided to get chatty.
Great.
“I mean… we’re gonna be working together, and we can’t pretend the past didn’t happen.…”
Sure they could. She spent most of her days shoving the memories of her past away.
Carefully, Monica set down her pen. Then she lifted her gaze. Dante sat across from her, his long legs spread out, taking up too much room. He’d changed before they left, thankfully gotten rid of the blood, and now he wore loose khakis and a button-down shirt.
Over the years, she’d tried not to think about Dante. Tried to pretend the fling with him hadn’t happened.
Tried and failed really, really well.
“Like what you see?” The words came out of his mouth sounding like some kind of sensual purr.
Asshole.
And, dammit, yes. Luke Dante was sex, he was power, and he was temptation.
A temptation she hadn’t been able to resist when she was twenty-two. But one she would ignore now.
Tall, muscled, with bright emerald eyes and sun-streaked blond hair, Dante was a southern boy with charm and a dimple in his chin.
A long, thin scar marred his right cheek. She’d been there the day he got that scar. The mark didn’t detract from Dante’s looks. No, the scar just made him look all the more dangerous.
She stared at him, trying to be detached. A strong jaw, wide lips, slightly twisted nose—he shouldn’t have been handsome.
But he was.
No, not handsome. Sexy.
Dammit.
Monica cleared her throat. “The past is over, Dante.” They’d been over this before, when he’d made the mistake of tracking her down. Serious mistake. “We’re professionals, we can—”
“Pretend we never had sex? Pretend we didn’t nearly tear each other apart because we were so fucking hungry those nights?”
Her heart thumped hard enough to shake her chest.
He smiled at her, flashing his white teeth. “Don’t know if I’m that good at pretending, Ice.”
Her eyes narrowed. She hated that nickname. The jerks she’d been in training with had tagged her with it. No one understood.
Control—control mattered. But she’d sure lost control with him.
Dante was her one mistake over the years. The one slip that had broken past the walls she’d worked so hard to erect.
Ice.
All the agents had been given names in their class.
Dante had been called Devil. The guy liked to take risks, to push boundaries. A devil who didn’t care about being cautious. How were you supposed to resist the devil?
His name hadn’t stuck, though. Hers had.
Monica sucked in a hard breath and deliberately relaxed her fingers. “Long time ago, Dante. And I don’t deal in the past.” Wrong. She’d spent years running from her past. “I focus on the present.” As much as possible. She held his stare and knew that her face would be expressionless.
She’d pr
acticed that. Ice.
So, okay, maybe she’d helped a little bit with that nickname. But being cold kept the others away, and it could be dangerous when someone got too close.
Straightening her shoulders, she said, “I’m the senior agent here, and I’m not looking to screw around.” Too dangerous. “We’re on a case. We work together because that’s what we have to do in order to get the job done.” Simple. Flat.
Dante didn’t so much as blink.
“Now, are you going to have a problem with that? Because, if so, it won’t be too hard to send your butt back to Atlanta.” Total bullshit now. Like she had that kind of power.
Hyde wanted Dante on his team. He’d been adamant about him. He’d even overridden her objections, and the guy usually listened to her opinions about people. Not this time.
A muscle flexed along Dante’s jaw. Perfectly shaven now, but she’d seen him at dawn, seen the rough stubble that—
“No problem, ma’am,” the title was a sardonic taunt. “I can do my job just fine.” A pause.
“Good.”
“Can you?”
Monica ground her teeth together. “Trust me, Dante, it won’t be an issue for me.” Liar, liar…
She could still remember all too well what the man looked like naked.
And what he felt like.
She swallowed.
Leaving him before had nearly ripped her apart, but there hadn’t been a choice. The man was a weakness, one she couldn’t afford.
“Prepare for descent.” A male voice broke over the intercom system. “Buckle your safety belts. We’ll be arriving in Jasper…”
Monica caught the belt in her hands as the rest of the pilot’s words washed right past her. Snap.
If Dante handled his first SSD case right, she’d be working with him, every day and all those nights, for a long time to come.
Shot down. Luke blew out a slow breath. He could handle it. A case waited. Victims. He could focus and get the job done.
They climbed down the small flight of stairs leading out of the plane. A private plane. His jaw had nearly dropped when he’d caught sight of it.