Chapter 16

"I'll walk you down to the locker room," Mal said as Raina pulled into the underground parking lot at Deacon. She had a space nearer the elevator now; Mal had insisted, claiming it was easier for the security team to keep their eyes on Rose if she had a prime position.

"You don't have to. I'm going by the wardrobe room to do wing check first. Brady gave me a bunch of spare feathers in case any have come loose," Raina said, killing the ignition and tugging her keys free. The wings, effective as they were, were a little high-maintenance, shedding feathers with alarming ease. Not wanting moth-eaten Angels, Raina had added feather-sewing skills to her arsenal. She glanced at Mal as she undid her seat belt. He seemed to have calmed down on the drive back to Staten Island but she wasn't sure if he had really forgotten about that idiot TV host—who, she had to confess, she would have been quite happy to let Mal punch in the nose—or whether he was just acting that way to make her feel better.

"I'm going to the security office, it's on my way," Mal said.

Only if your definition of on his way was "one floor up and on the opposite side of the stadium." But she didn't think that arguing with him was the best approach right now. So she waited while he grabbed her bags—no point trying to dissuade him from that, either, right this second—and then she locked Rose.

"What do you think our chances are today?" she asked as they walked. Surely that was a suitable change of subject? Baseball. He liked baseball. He owned the damned team.

Mal looked down at her. "It's okay, I'm over Blair the prick. You don't have to cheer me up by talking about sports."

"Hey, I like baseball, too," she said, a little indignant. And a little annoyed that he'd seen through her ploy so easily. "And I work hard for this team."

"Yes, you do. Okay, then, if you really want to know." He started to talk baseball statistics at her. Comparing the performances of the Saints versus the Orioles and who was injured and who was in form. She nodded and smiled and pretended she understood all of it. Some of it made sense, but statistics ignored the heart of the game. The magic when a team gelled and started to play like many bodies with one mind. At least, she assumed that happened for sports teams just like it did for dancers or theater companies. And given she'd never been able to figure out why some nights were magical and every movement was easy and it all just worked until the air fairly shimmered with light when she was dancing, she had to also assume that no one had yet worked out what combination of chemistry and work and luck turned a baseball team into an unstoppable run machine.

The players were superstitious; she'd seen them tapping bats in the dugout or working rosary beads or carrying good-luck charms in the bullpen when she'd watched the Angels from the sidelines during the last match. On game days, Ollie Shields always wore his cap backward until he stepped onto the field. Then he turned it right-way around. And immediately back again when he stepped off.

Habit as a way of evoking performance. Which turned into superstition. She understood that.

Mal's flow of information came to a halt as they reached the storage room where the wings were kept. Raina pulled out the swipe card that opened the door, but the reader beeped and the two little lights stayed obstinately red.

"That's weird," she said.

Mal took the card from her and swiped it again. Another beep. Then he tried his own. Another beep.

Frowning, he tugged at the steel handle on the door. Which swung open.

Raina's stomach dropped. "That's not good."

"No," Mal said. "It's not." He pulled out his phone and punched a button. "Chen, get down here, wing room. Stat." He shoved the phone back in his pocket. "Stay here." The door came fully open as he yanked at it.

The room inside was dark and no one came running out wielding a chain saw or something equally deadly.

"Turn on the lights," Raina suggested.

"They should be on. The storeroom lights all have motion sensors. Saves power when no one's in them." He waved his hand inside the door, then, when no lights came on, slid his hand down the wall, feeling for the switch. He found it and light spilled out into the hallway. Mal started swearing.

"What?" Raina demanded.

"Stay there," he repeated.

"Is there a dead body?" she asked.

"No."

"Then let me see." She ducked under his arm and then froze in place when she saw what Mal had seen.

The floor was covered in feathers. Fluffy white feathers. Or bits of feathers might have been the more accurate description. The lockers that held each pair of wings were all open and the wings themselves—the bare stripped frames—lay in the piles of feathers. Some of them had been broken, not just stripped.

"Fuck," she breathed. She shut her eyes briefly but when she reopened them, the carnage still lay before her. "Who did this?"

"Trust me, I'm going to find out," Mal said. She felt him step closer, so her back was against his chest. Solid. Warm. Safe.

Safe was good. Suddenly the world didn't feel so safe. "Is this because of me? Did someone do that because of me?"

"I don't know," Mal said. "It's possible."

"Someone hates me that much?" She heard the crack in her voice and swallowed. Hard. Took a breath, then another. "I need to call Brady. We can fix these."

"Not by tonight, you can't," Mal said. "And we need to get the police here before you can even touch anything."

"But—"

"But nothing." He took her hand and pulled her gently back out into the corridor. Chen was just rounding the curve, coming toward them at a jog.

He slowed when he reached them. "What's up?"

Mal waved a hand at the door. "Have a look. But don't step over the threshold."

Chen looked. Then spun back to Mal, dark eyes fierce. "How?"

"That's what I was just about to ask," Mal said. "What happened here today?" He looked back at Raina. "When did you last check on the wings?"

"We had some of them out for the TV spot on Sunday," Raina said. "They were fine then."

"So sometime between then and now," Mal said. "And I'm assuming no one saw this on the tapes; otherwise we wouldn't just be finding out about it now. So the question is, how the hell did someone get in here?"

"Fuck, Mal," Chen said. "I don't know. But whoever is must know what he's doing."

"There's been nothing odd going on?"

Chen frowned. Then his face cleared. "They were doing work on one of the lighting towers this morning. The power had to be cycled on and off a couple of times on the side of the stadium. But it was only out a minute tops at any one time."

"Long enough for someone to bugger the lock and override the motion sensor. If they were good."

"Very good," Chen agreed.

Raina's stomach went cold. Very good. What exactly did that mean coming from two guys who were probably ex-special-forces. A professional? Did someone hate her enough to hire a professional burglar or whatever it was you'd call someone who could do this to screw with her?

"Go back to the office. Start running the tapes and checking the system. Everything gets checked before anyone comes through the gates tonight. Including that lighting tower. Get the police in here. Also go back over the records of any of the contractors and subcontractors we've had in here this week."

Chen nodded. "On it." He started walking back the way he'd come then broke into a jog. Raina didn't blame him. She kind of felt like running away herself.

"And what are we going to do?" she asked.

"Well, the first step is telling Lucas and Alex."

They met in Alex's office. Raina hadn't been in it since the day Alex had first brought her in for an interview. Maybe she should have said no right back then and none of this would be happening now.

Mal made her sit down.

"I'm fine," she said. It was a lie. She felt hot and clammy, stomach rolling queasily. All that work. Brady's beautiful work. Destroyed. Savaged. Did someone want to do that to her?

"Just sit," he said.

"I'm not a dog, Malachi." She wasn't going to cringe like one.

Maggie, who was in the chair to Raina's right, put a hand on her arm. "That must have been a shock, seeing those wings."

"It was. But I'm not going to fall over." Well, she didn't think she was going to. She hoped. She sucked in a breath, locking down the fear. Working on focusing on the anger. Who the hell was doing this and what the hell gave him the right? All that hard work that Brady had put in. All the work the girls had put in. All the hard work she'd put in, goddamn it, and now someone was trying to scare them all away.

Make them scared.

Make them hurt.

Well screw that. She scowled. Her expression pretty much matched that on the faces of Alex, Mal, and Lucas. Alex was sitting at his desk, Lucas was standing in front of it, and Mal was standing on Raina's left ignoring the chair right behind his legs.

"I should have brought the cookies," Maggie said.

Raina smiled. The guys didn't.

"Definitely cookies," Maggie said. "C'mon, guys, this is serious but do you have to stand there looking like you want to burn the place down?"

"What I want to know is how this happened?" Alex said.

"I'm working on that," Mal growled. "It might be that whoever did this used the power outages from the lighting work to at least get into the storeroom. How he?—"

"It could be a she," Maggie said.

A she. Raina blinked. She hadn't thought about that. Someone on the squad? Someone who was pissed off about not getting her due? Ana? Surely not.

"I don't know," Mal said. "Those wings are pretty big. To tear them up like that, just one person. That takes some strength."

"Maybe they used a knife or something," Lucas said. "Blades can do plenty of damage."

Lucas would know. He was the surgeon, after all. Raina didn't want to think about someone slashing up the wings. Knife or otherwise.

Maggie turned to Raina. "What do you think? You told me Ana was pretty mad about missing out on the interviews. Would she do something like this?"

"I … don't know. I think she's pretty ruthless and wants her own way. But I'm not sure she's crazy enough to sabotage the whole team. I can see her doing sneaky things to individual girls, maybe. But this, this risks having the whole team not get to perform. Which means she wouldn't get to perform. I don't know."

"We'd better talk to her," Maggie said. "See what she has to say."

Mal nodded. "Can't hurt. Though Raina's right, it seems like shooting yourself in the foot, to risk benching the squad. I think it's more likely to be someone else."

"Well, the police will be able to tell us more about that, maybe," Alex said. "And Mal's team is combing through all the security data. So that brings us to the more immediate problem."

Raina watched Mal's jaw tighten at the mention of his team. She wouldn't want to be whoever had fucked this up. If someone had fucked up.

"Which is?" Maggie asked.

"Whether the Angels are going to perform tonight," Alex said.

Raina's head snapped around. "What? Of course we're going on."

"That might not be the smartest thing," Mal said. "If someone is targeting you or the squad, then you're just giving them a clear shot."

"Someone is trying to scare us. If we don't go on, then they've succeeded." Raina protested. "That's just giving in."

"She has a point there, Mal," Alex said.

"We don't even know if the girls will want to go on," Mal said. "You have to tell them about this. You can't send them out there without them knowing what's happened. For one thing, you'll need to explain why they can't wear their wings tonight."

"Do you have another routine?" Maggie asked. "You usually do three. The opening one with the wings and then the two between innings."

"Yeah, we have a few we've been working on," Raina said. "And we can work out a costume change easily enough. We'll just swap things around. It won't be as dramatic as the wings but it will do."

"You tell Brady to get started on a new set. Wherever he got them done," Alex said. "Tell him we'll pay a big bonus if they're ready for Friday night. That way you can do tonight and tomorrow with the new routine and come back with the wings for the weekend before we go to Toronto. Send the guys off with some team spirit."

"The guys are going to be pissed about this," Lucas added. "Most of them seem to like having the girls here."

"They're baseball players, of course they like having eighteen—nineteen, sorry, Raina—gorgeous women around," Maggie said.

"They won't like them being messed with," Lucas said.

"Good. Then they can channel that mad into winning the games," Raina said. "They can come out swinging. And so will we. Don't worry, I'll talk to the girls. Dancers believe in The show must go on. Even if some of them don't want to do it, we can do the routines with a reduced number."

"If you're sure," Alex said. "If you don't want to, then that's okay, Raina."

"I'm sure. Mal's team is good. They're not going to let anything happen to us. And it's not like they went after one of us anyway. They went for the costumes. Easy target. It's creepy as fuck but screw them. Oops, sorry," she added. "Not professional."

"Accurate, though," Alex said. "Okay, then that's the plan. Raina and Maggie and I will go talk to the Angels. Lucas, you can talk to the team, and Mal will work with his people and the police."

"And tonight we can all go home and collapse into bed," Maggie said. "I swear, I don't need this much adrenaline. Baseball is plenty exciting enough without weird shit."

"I hear you," Raina said. She stood and stretched, trying to convince herself she wasn't as tired as she felt. She was grateful that she wasn't going to have to go out and perform tonight like the Angels. Though if too many of them balked at the idea, she might have to. "I have a date with my comforter, my cat, and half my weight in chocolate."

"No you don't," Mal said. The growl had come back into his voice.

"Excuse me?"

"You're not going home. You can come stay with me for a while."

Maggie's face broke into a grin at the same time as Lucas's eyebrows shot up. Alex just looked at Mal and shook his head. Raina felt her face get hot. "Don't be stupid, I'm going home."

"Not going to happen. We don't know if this is the same guy pulling shit at your club. but if it is, then he's stepping things up another level. Your apartment has security that a clown could get through. My place is safe."

"That may be true," Raina said. "But it also comes with you. Right now, I'm not sure that's a bonus. You have a big mouth."

Mal crossed his arms and looked stony. "Alex already knew. He probably already told Maggie."

"Nope," Alex said. "Don't dig me a hole along with your own there, Mal."

Mal ignored him. "And I would have told Lucas soon. No one cares that we're sleeping together, Raina. Except me. I care. I care about you and I'm not going to let you put yourself in danger when there's a simple fix. I can't stop you and the Angels doing your thing. I won't stop you doing what you do. But I can stop you going home to somewhere that's not safe.

"It's my home. And there's Wash."

"You can bring the monster cat to my place," Mal said. "There's plenty of space for him to run around and plenty of furniture for him to scratch."

"Mal's place is kind of like Fort Knox," Maggie said. "He's right, you would be safe."

"Maybe we should give Raina and Mal some time to talk about this for a few minutes," Lucas suggested.

Maggie stood. "Raina? Is that what you want?"

"I'm fine," Raina said. "And yes, Malachi and I have a discussion to have."

Alex was the last to leave. He closed the door softly. Raina half suspected that Maggie, Alex, and Lucas were standing outside the door eavesdropping. But even if they were, it didn't change the fact that she and Mal had to talk about this.

"I'm not going to change my mind," Mal said abruptly. "I want you to stay at my place. If you're pissed at me, fine. I'll stay somewhere else. But you're going to be somewhere safe."

"I am pissed at you," Raina said. "But the living arrangements aren't the main problem. The problem is you ambushing me. This is a relationship. At least I hope it's a relationship and that means communication. Compromise. Remember compromise?"

"I'm not compromising on your safety," he said.

She sighed and rubbed her neck. "And I think we're firmly back in button-pushing territory for both of us. I don't like being controlled and treated like property. You don't like giving up control. This is a problem, Mal."

"This isn't exactly situation normal," Mal said. "Once we catch whoever did this, then you can move back to your place. Everything will be fine."

"Until the next time you want to be in charge," Raina said. "Like in the next ten seconds when I tell you I'm still going to Madame R's tonight unless you or the police can give me a concrete reason not to."

She could practically hear his teeth grinding.

"I figured as much," Mal said. "So go. I'll talk to Luis and there will be extra security. There, that's a compromise."

It was. Much to her surprise. The squirmy stress knots in her stomach loosened a little. "Okay. Good."

"That's me giving a little," Mal said. "So are you going to give a little, too?"

"You mean by staying with you?"

His brow lifted. "Yes. You and the giant cat somewhere nice and impenetrable until this is sorted out."

"You know, most guys make an invitation to move in with them sound a little more romantic," she muttered.

"And when I do that," Mal said, "it will be romantic. But I didn't think we were there yet. Are we?"

She shook her head. "No. Maybe we need to see if we can get through the next few days without driving each other crazy first."

He grinned at her then. "Not much chance of that."

"Not that kind of crazy."

"I like that kind of crazy."

"I know you do. You dark lords have sex on the brain."

He snorted. "Maybe. But generic sex on the brain isn't the same thing as very specific sex on the brain. With one specific person."

His eyes had gone hot again and she felt her annoyance start to melt. "Don't look at me like that," she said. "That's not fighting fair."

His smile broadened. "Well, you know what they say. All's fair in love and war."

"I always hated that saying," she muttered.

"Yeah, but you like me," Mal said and pulled her in to kiss her.