like that.
Slim black padding protected the men’s knuckles. Each wore a molded helmet. Adam, his dark crop of hair jutting out the back of his gear, wore black sweatpants and a T-shirt. His arm muscles strained the short sleeves, the material subtly stretched over a hard, fit chest to taper to a trim waist. The pants were cut somewhat loosely, the soft fall of the fabric belying the conditioned body within. Talia’s gaze lingered in momentary surprise and appreciation, before sudden self-awareness shifted her body from chill to rapid, embarrassed heat again.
The other man, Spencer, pivoted and kicked Adam in the stomach. He, too, was dressed in black, though diagonal silver stripes accented the shirt’s ribbing and marked the breadth of his thighs on his pants.
Adam caught the outstretched leg, twisted, and sent Spencer spinning to the ground. Spencer landed on his back, coiled, and sprang to his feet. Only to be sent down again by a side strike from Adam.
Beautiful. They both had to be black belts at whatever they were doing. Gillian hooted approval.
“Enough,” Adam called, breathlessly waving Spencer down. Adam unlatched the clasp under his chin and pulled the headgear off his sweaty head. Face flushed, chest heaving, he was the most potent man Talia had ever seen. The sight of him, coupled with what she knew of his character, was enough to confirm the obvious: Adam was a dangerous man.
She wanted an icy-cold bucket over her head. She couldn’t very well make a show of fanning herself like Gillian was. Talia looked at the trees, the garden, and her borrowed sneakers. Anything but Adam.
Spencer stood and removed his headgear as well, uncovering a shock of dark blond. When he grinned, one side curled a little higher than the other, making him appear a little naughty.
Adam approached, forehead creasing as he gave Talia a once-over. His close proximity was disconcerting on several levels. Even the dark smell of his sweat was distracting, but not unpleasantly so. On the contrary, the sheen at his neck had her wondering what it tasted li—
“Did you sleep well?” Adam asked. “Any disturbances?”
“Not a one,” Talia answered, regrouping. “By the way, I appreciate the reading material you provided.”
Adam frowned; then a grin split his face. Made her heart jump.
“The Stephen King,” he said, laughing. “You can thank Jim Remy. He charged sixty copies to me and put one in each room. All part of the Segue welcome package. How do you feel today?”
Talia shrugged. “Okay. A little hot and cold.”
His gaze turned analytical. Probing. When he looked at her like that, he saw too much. “Pat warned us about that. You’ll take some time to recover completely. Let me know if you are uncomfortable.”
“I’m fine.” She tried for a bright smile, the kind that bounced off further questions, protecting the twisting nerves in her belly.
“Okay, then,” Adam said. “I’d like to introduce you to Spencer Benedict, our liaison with the Strategic Preternatural Coalition Initiative, a division under the U.S. Department of Defense. He is here to coordinate and facilitate communication between Segue and SPCI.” He pronounced it speecee .
Talia had wanted a cold bucket of water, now she got one.
The government? If there were as many wraiths out there as Adam claimed, government cooperation made sense. Mutual aid suggested a shared objective, to discover the origin of wraiths and learn how to cure or destroy them. Intellectually, she accepted that, but anxiety still crawled over her skin. What did SPCI think of her?
Talia approached and held out her hand like any normal person would. It was important to look normal. “Nice to meet you.”
Her gaze flicked to Adam in question. Does he know?
Adam shook his head shallowly.
Spencer took her hand and squeezed. “Likewise.”
Talia caught a quick rush of curiosity mingled with fading resentment and sharp competitiveness. If she had to make a guess,
Slim black padding protected the men’s knuckles. Each wore a molded helmet. Adam, his dark crop of hair jutting out the back of his gear, wore black sweatpants and a T-shirt. His arm muscles strained the short sleeves, the material subtly stretched over a hard, fit chest to taper to a trim waist. The pants were cut somewhat loosely, the soft fall of the fabric belying the conditioned body within. Talia’s gaze lingered in momentary surprise and appreciation, before sudden self-awareness shifted her body from chill to rapid, embarrassed heat again.
The other man, Spencer, pivoted and kicked Adam in the stomach. He, too, was dressed in black, though diagonal silver stripes accented the shirt’s ribbing and marked the breadth of his thighs on his pants.
Adam caught the outstretched leg, twisted, and sent Spencer spinning to the ground. Spencer landed on his back, coiled, and sprang to his feet. Only to be sent down again by a side strike from Adam.
Beautiful. They both had to be black belts at whatever they were doing. Gillian hooted approval.
“Enough,” Adam called, breathlessly waving Spencer down. Adam unlatched the clasp under his chin and pulled the headgear off his sweaty head. Face flushed, chest heaving, he was the most potent man Talia had ever seen. The sight of him, coupled with what she knew of his character, was enough to confirm the obvious: Adam was a dangerous man.
She wanted an icy-cold bucket over her head. She couldn’t very well make a show of fanning herself like Gillian was. Talia looked at the trees, the garden, and her borrowed sneakers. Anything but Adam.
Spencer stood and removed his headgear as well, uncovering a shock of dark blond. When he grinned, one side curled a little higher than the other, making him appear a little naughty.
Adam approached, forehead creasing as he gave Talia a once-over. His close proximity was disconcerting on several levels. Even the dark smell of his sweat was distracting, but not unpleasantly so. On the contrary, the sheen at his neck had her wondering what it tasted li—
“Did you sleep well?” Adam asked. “Any disturbances?”
“Not a one,” Talia answered, regrouping. “By the way, I appreciate the reading material you provided.”
Adam frowned; then a grin split his face. Made her heart jump.
“The Stephen King,” he said, laughing. “You can thank Jim Remy. He charged sixty copies to me and put one in each room. All part of the Segue welcome package. How do you feel today?”
Talia shrugged. “Okay. A little hot and cold.”
His gaze turned analytical. Probing. When he looked at her like that, he saw too much. “Pat warned us about that. You’ll take some time to recover completely. Let me know if you are uncomfortable.”
“I’m fine.” She tried for a bright smile, the kind that bounced off further questions, protecting the twisting nerves in her belly.
“Okay, then,” Adam said. “I’d like to introduce you to Spencer Benedict, our liaison with the Strategic Preternatural Coalition Initiative, a division under the U.S. Department of Defense. He is here to coordinate and facilitate communication between Segue and SPCI.” He pronounced it speecee .
Talia had wanted a cold bucket of water, now she got one.
The government? If there were as many wraiths out there as Adam claimed, government cooperation made sense. Mutual aid suggested a shared objective, to discover the origin of wraiths and learn how to cure or destroy them. Intellectually, she accepted that, but anxiety still crawled over her skin. What did SPCI think of her?
Talia approached and held out her hand like any normal person would. It was important to look normal. “Nice to meet you.”
Her gaze flicked to Adam in question. Does he know?
Adam shook his head shallowly.
Spencer took her hand and squeezed. “Likewise.”
Talia caught a quick rush of curiosity mingled with fading resentment and sharp competitiveness. If she had to make a guess,
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