Chapter 17

"Did you find anything yet?" Mal stopped by the bank of monitors where the guys from the team were studying the security feeds for the last forty-eight hours, taking up point position next to Chen.

Chen looked up. He'd worked his black hair into a series of rumpled spikes, and there were several empty energy drink cans next to his monitor. The red and gold koi tattooed on his forearm twitched as he drummed his fingers on his trackpad. Frustrated then. So mostly likely the answer to his question was going to be no.

"Done with the police?" Chen asked.

"Yes. They dusted for prints but there are way too many of them. They'll have to fingerprint all the Angels and the maintenance guys and anyone else around here who's been in that room for a start. But if he's good, he will have worn gloves anyway. They didn't find anything else except some scratches around one of the vent covers."

Chen started. "They think he came in through the vent system?"

The thought of someone crawling around in the ventilation system, which went on for miles, was Mal's worst nightmare. "They don't know. Maybe. The vent looks pretty clean but we had them all cleaned when we were doing the refit. So there wasn't much dirt to start with. But get Spike to get in there and have a look. He's the skinniest."

"He'll love that."

"That's why I pay him the big bucks," Mal said. "Did you call in the other teams? I want as many extra bodies on the ground as we can get tonight. But only guys known to us. No outsiders."

"Yup, all the Saints' teams are coming in and I called Em back at the office to see who she could rustle up as well. And I'm running background on the contractors again. Don't worry, boss. No one will get through us."

"That's what we thought yesterday," Mal said.

Chen shot him a look.

Mal held up his hands. "I'm not blaming anyone unless we can prove that someone fucked up. This guy is obviously good. But we're better. So move over so I can help you run this damned tape."

It took about an hour but they finally found something. "There," Mal said, pointing at the screen where a lighting crew was entering. "Six of them, then that other one by the truck. His cap looks like it's a bit darker than the others'. And there's only six at the bottom of the tower there. So where's the other one? Our dark-hatted friend."

"Maybe he's gone inside, or taking a leak or something," Chen said.

"I want to talk to that crew," Mal said. "Double-check. And then start looking through the tapes for anyone who looks like our odd man out."

"If he took off the cap and the overalls after he broke away from them, then he could be anyone."

"Yup. So start playing with the recognition software you like so much. Get it to find me a match. Maybe start at the lower levels. If he did go in through the ventilation system, that would be easier to access from a lower level. Fewer people around than in the office tower. And he'd stand out on the stadium levels."

"Will do," Chen said.

"Call me when you find it," Mal said. "He's good but no one's perfect. He will have fucked up somewhere. We just need a good look at his face."

"Home sweet home," Mal said about eight hours later when he unlocked the front door to his apartment and turned back to take the cat carrier from Raina.

Wash squawked indignantly, as he'd been doing on and off since Raina had wrestled him into the carrier, but he weighed a ton so she handed him over without protesting. She was too tired to protest. She just wanted a flat surface to lie down on and eight hours' sleep. She couldn't remember the last time she'd had eight hours' sleep.

"Come on in," Mal said.

Lights came on as Raina stepped over the threshold, pulling her suitcase in behind her. She'd only brought a small one because she just couldn't face trying to work out what to bring to fill more than one tonight, and she was still hoping that this was all going to blow over in a few days. So that she could go home again. Wash's stuff, his bed and bowls and food and the carrier, took up more space than her suitcase.

The sudden illumination revealed a semicircular entry hall that was empty except for a battered-looking square wooden table to the right of the door they'd come through and a couple of huge black-and-white photos of mountains on either side of the double doors opposite. Mal opened those and she followed him into his apartment. Though it was hardly an apartment. Penthouse was the word she was looking for. They'd come up the elevator right to the top of the building. That meant penthouse.

The double doors opened onto a huge room. Big enough to fit Raina's entire apartment plus probably all of Madame R's twice over. The walls were bare red brick; iron girders ran the length of the roof. Warehouse conversion chic. Or something.

There were several groupings of big brown leather sofas in various parts of the vast space, either facing the row of windows that ran the length of the left side of the room or in squared formations to create the illusion of closeness.

"Cozy," she said drily.

"I like space," Mal said.

"You could play baseball in here," Raina said.

He shrugged. "Basketball, maybe. Baseballs and windows don't mix. Come on, the bedrooms are this way. Do you want me to let Wash out or do you want to keep him in one room for a day or two? Isn't that what you do with cats?"

"Something like that," Raina said. "He's fairly relaxed as cats go but one room might be a better idea if you're attached to your sofas."

"If he can shred leather, then I'm impressed," Mal said. "I can buy more sofas." He kept walking and Raina walked behind him, head turning from side to side as she tried to form an impression other than "big." Polished floors. Reds and browns and dark grays with flashes of white. An eclectic mix of art. Big photos, black-and-white and color of both baseball scenes and nature. Five guitars hung on one section of wall.

"You play guitar?" Raina said.

"Not very well," Mal said. "But I like the way they look."

They reached the far end of the room and a door made of red-brown wood that toned with the bricks.

Beyond that was another corridor. She was starting to feel like she'd stepped into the TARDIS. Bigger on the inside.

"My room's the door at the far end," Mal said. "Kitchen's this one." He pushed the first door on the right open and Raina caught a glimpse of stainless steel and gleaming glass and more reddish wood in the cabinets.

Mal ignored the next few doors and Raina restrained her curiosity. He finally stopped just before the end of the corridor where the door he'd indicated was his dead in front of them and then opened the last door on the left before the corridor ended. "This can be you," he said. "Make yourself at home. I'll get the rest of Wash's stuff from your truck." He put Wash's carrier down on the carpet just inside the door and smiled at her. "I'll be right back."

"You might want to take a snack for the hike," she said.

"I'm used to it. Keeps me fit."

She suspected that one of the other doors would reveal a home gym of some sort. Mal would want to work out in a way that suited in him and when it suited him. He'd have his own setup.

But she could explore the rest of the doors later. Right now she wanted to get Wash settled and then sleep.

She bent down and opened the carrier. Wash stalked out with an angry-sounding "Mrrrooowwwww." He looked up at her and then around the room. Then promptly sat down and gave a much more curious chirp of inquiry as his head swiveled from side to side, surveying the room again.

Mal didn't skimp on guest bedrooms apparently. The bed was a king size, piled with pillows and a comforter in shades of light gray, black, and red. A bank of low drawers stood against the wall opposite the bed, with a giant TV on the wall above them. The windows were hidden by a floor-to-ceiling fall of curtains in a shimmery shade of one of the deeper grays in the bed linen. The fourth wall was shiny black. She could just make out the outlines of doors in the gleaming expanse. Wardrobe, she assumed. Not that she really needed a wardrobe. The nightstands were the same lacquered black with low silver lamps with black shades. There was a matching black door in the same wall as the bed.

"Hey cat, I think we got an en suite," she said. Wash looked at her suspiciously. "Don't blame me. I didn't choose the change in location. You need to chew on something of Mal's to get even for that." She wandered over to the door, opened it, and stuck her head into the room. Which made the lights come on. Definite fan of motion sensors, her Mal. The bathroom held a very long, very deep-black bath and a shower and a toilet. Nice. Plus having an en suite made figuring out where to put Wash's litter tray easy. She would investigate more when Mal came back.

She backed up and sat on the bed, toeing off the ratty beat-up Nikes she'd put on at the club after the show. She was wearing jeans and her oldest sweatshirt and she'd scrubbed her face clean of makeup. Glamour at its finest.

She flopped back on the bed and heard Wash land beside her. He butted her cheek with his head then climbed onto her stomach, sat down, and started grooming a paw. The slurping sound was kind of soothing and she let herself drift for a while.

"Someone's feeling at home."

She raised her head and peered around Wash. Mal stood in the doorway with the box full of cat paraphernalia. "He always does." She sat up, lifting Wash onto the comforter.

"Don't get up. I'll put this stuff in the bathroom," Mal said.

She lay back down. Just for a minute. She needed a minute.

Somewhere in the distance she vaguely recognized the sound of water running. But she couldn't quite make herself get off the bed to investigate. Mal had exceptional taste in mattresses, she decided. It was firm but somehow soft at the same time. Like lying in a supportive cloud. It made her brain go blank and cloudy, too. Just what the doctor had ordered. She felt a weight on the bed beside her.

"Don't bother me, Wash, I'll feed you in a minute," she murmured.

"Not Wash, Mal," Mal said with a soft laugh.

She opened her eyes. "Big," she said. Then ran her hand over his chin and the stubble that had sprung up as it did at the end of every long day. "Furry. Same same."

"Can Wash do this?" he said and kissed her. Softly. Sweetly. It made her sink back down into the cloudy bliss.

"Mmmm," she sighed. "Probably not. His breath usually smells like cat food."

"I know you were looking forward to angry makeup sex," Mal said. "But I have another idea."

"You do? Does it involve sleeping?"

His hand slid up under her sweatshirt, found her breast. He brushed a thumb over her nipple. "You can sleep if you want." His thumb moved again and the cloud dissolved then re-formed into a whole different kind of pleasant.

She opened her eyes. "You have my attention."

Mal stood, scooped her up.

"Show-off," she said.

"It's not my fault you didn't eat enough spinach growing up."

"I come from a long line of short women," she said. "There isn't enough spinach in the world."

"Good things come in small packages."

"Only some things," she said with a giggle. "In some things, size is an … advantage."

They were in the bathroom now. The bath was full and the steam rising from it smelled like spices and flowers. Three white candles flickered in the niche in the tiled wall, making the dark water shimmer. Mal put her down and then pulled her sweatshirt over her head.

"Why, Mr. Coulter, are you trying to entice me to sin in a bathroom?"

"That was the plan," Mal said. Her T-shirt joined the sweatshirt on the floor. And then he pulled his own shirt over his head.

She let herself watch for a moment. It was a sight that hadn't gotten old, Mal without all his clothes on. All that tanned skin and muscle and dark hair. A definite enticement to sin. She shimmied out of her jeans and underwear and dipped her hand into the water. Perfect temperature. She climbed in and sat down. The level came nearly to her chin. A sigh of delight escaped her as the perfumed heat surrounded her and she ducked under the water to wet her hair. When she resurfaced, Mal was naked.

"Hello." She smiled up at him. "Are you going to join me?"

"Just enjoying the view," he said.

Raina looked down. In the darkened room, against the black stone of the bath, her skin was very pale. And very visible. "It's even better close up."

"I know." He climbed in, making the water slosh. "Come here." He crooked a finger at her and she waded her way up the bath and tangled her legs around his waist.

They kissed again, long and slow. The water lapped around her body and Mal's hand stroked wet skin and everything shivered and shimmered around her as he teased and caressed.

"I want you," she managed to say on the end of a gasp.

"You've got me," he said. And then somehow he was standing and she was wrapped in a towel and then they were back in the bedroom. He laid her down and dried her off and then proceeded to get her wet all over again with fingers and tongue until she had to say it again.

"I want you. Now. Please, Mal."

"Whatever you say." He was over her then, and then inside her and the world clicked into place as she felt that connection. Mal. Buttons and all, he was there and hers and that was what she needed. She hung on, wanting to be closer, pulling him down to her and into her with each of his thrusts. Wanting to wrap him around her until they became one person. Until eventually she reached the point where the pleasure spilled over and took her away with it, melting her into him with one last repetition of his name. One that sounded suspiciously like "I love you, Mal."

"Okay, ladies," Raina said, standing in the middle of the Angels locker room on Saturday before the game. "We've got our wings back. So you're going to go out there and kick some Angel butt, right?"

There was a smattering of laughter and clapping. Even Ana managed a smile. She was apparently turning over a new leaf since she'd had to face Mal and Alex and Raina asking her whether or not she'd been involved in damaging the wings. Her hotly indignant denial had rung true, but it seemed that the fact that she'd been pulled up had made her stop and think about what impression her attitude might be giving.

Raina didn't know whether her change of heart was going to stick but she was happy to have one less problem for now.

"Shouldn't that be help the Saints kick butt? Kicking Angel butt sounds kind of wrong," Marly said from her spot on the nearest bench. Her makeup and hair were immaculate and show-ready, but she still looked kind of tense. Nervous. They all were. Mal had provided extra security for the squad since the wings incident—which was why Raina was giving her pep talk with Chen in the room, his dark eyes watchful as he covered the door.

"You get the general idea," Raina said. "The guys have been winning all week and you've heard what some of them said in the press about what happened to the wings." Several of the players, Brett Tuckerson and Ollie Shields included, had sent some pretty clear messages about what they thought about losers who messed with their squad. Politely worded—probably more politely than any of them would have liked if Maggie hadn't been riding herd on their public behavior—but perfectly clear.

"They've had your back, so it's time for us to have theirs again. Anyone got any questions about the routines or anything else? We're about twenty minutes out, so speak now or don't expect mercy if you screw up." She grinned at the group. "At the very least, you will be last in the cookie line all week."

That made them groan. Shonda's cookies were rapidly assuming legend status in the squad after Maggie had brought another batch to the locker room the day after the wings had been wrecked. They'd vanished before anyone could blink, eaten to the last crumb. Even Ana had devoured one.

Raina was starting to think that Shonda should go into business and become a cookie entrepreneur. After all, she was working with Alex and had spent twenty-odd years before that as Tom Jameson's executive assistant. She had a lightning-quick brain to go with her mad cookie skills. She'd make a mint.

But right now Raina needed to think about cheerleading, not cookies.

She looked around the squad, giving them time. Marly's wasn't the only faintly nervous face, but no one had pulled out of the performance. They had guts, these girls. "No questions? All right. Two minutes to finish whatever needs spraying or pinning or touching up. Then we're going to wing up and go put on a show."

The Angels started peeling off from their seats and heading back toward the mirrors and dressing tables. Marly stayed put.

"You all set?" Raina asked. Across the room, Chen lifted an eyebrow, as though asking if everything was okay. Raina gave a tiny shrug then focused back on Marly. "Marly?"

The blonde nodded but stayed where she was.

"Everything okay?" Raina persisted.

Marly smiled. To Raina's eye, it looked a little stagy.

"I'm fine," Marly said.

"Are you sure about that? If anything's happening, you need to let me know. You heard Mal earlier in the week, any weird messages or anything, you have to tell us. They have a couple of pictures of the guy going into the storeroom but nothing with his whole face. So any info to help out is good.

"I know," Marly said. She shrugged. "There's this one thing I got on Instagram about two hours ago. I mean, I get plenty of shitty sexist drivel and come-ons every day but this one. Something about it bothered me more than usual. And it's no worse than the others, so I'm not sure why."

"Show me," Raina said firmly.

Marly found her phone and brought up the offending message. She passed the phone to Raina. "This. I took a screen cap of the message and then the guy's profile, like Mal said. Then I blocked him of course. That's the message."

Raina looked down at the screen. "Angel Slut. For fuck's sake, what is wrong with people?"

She'd hardly finished the sentence when Chen was by her side, looking ominous.

"What's the problem?" he asked.

Raina handed him the phone and watched his expression go even stonier as he read the tweet. He looked at Marly, anger flaring in his eyes.

He handed her back the phone. "Is that the first message from this guy?"

Marly nodded. "Yes. But it's not the message, I mean, yes, it's pathetic and disgusting, but it's not the first time someone's used that word to me. But have a look at the next one. His profile page."

A flick of her finger brought up the next picture and she tilted the phone so Raina and Chen could both see it. The profile name was TomSmith. Hello, fake name. There was no profile picture to go with the name, just a generic icon. But the header picture was of a long white feather.

"Is that one of our feathers?" Raina asked.

"I don't know. It could just be a feather. But it's…"

"Creepy," Raina supplied. "And definitely the sort of thing Mal needs to know about."

"Agreed," Chen said. He held out his hand for the phone. "I'll mail the pics to him."

"And I'll go talk to him," Raina said.

Chen looked like he wanted to argue.

"You have to stay with the squad. You're the muscle." She flashed Chen a smile. "More useful than me if anything happens."

"Yes, stay, please," Marly said to him and Raina thought she saw him redden faintly. Interesting. But she had no time to figure out if Chen was just maybe, crushing on one of her squad. She needed to talk to Mal.