Silver Silence (Page 94)

That she’d cleared her schedule without asking him why he needed her time, it crashed right through him, slayed him. Angry though it was, his bear rubbed against the inside of his skin, wanting her fingers running through its fur, her weight on its body as the bear took her for another ride. “Eat first,” he ordered.

“I’ll grab a bar.” She did exactly that and was in the car with him two minutes later.

“We also need Erik Jahnssen from your office.”

Again, she made the call without questioning why.

“You should be resting.” The words burst out, a loud thunder of sound. “This is not how you recover from neurosurgery!”

She chewed a bite of her bar, swallowed. “I’ll take that under advisement.” A calm statement that made it clear she’d do nothing of the sort.

“Grr.” Valentin made his claws slide back in. “You are an infuriating woman, Starlichka.”

When he stopped at the Psy café and grabbed her a hot nutrient drink, she took it but gave him a stern look. “Valentin, the bar was enough nutrition. You’ll increase my weight if you keep feeding me.”

He fought the urge to tumble her into his lap, kiss her, and kiss her until she laughed and became his Silver again, the one who said things like that to him but who also loved him. “Because I’m a gentleman bear,” he grumbled, “I won’t point out that a woman who barely sleeps is never going to get there. But if it ever happens, it’ll just give me more of you to cuddle.”

Silver focused pointedly on her organizer, drink in hand. “Are we crossing off another date on your list, this time with an observer?”

“Very funny.” His worst scowl had zero effect on his mate. It was like she was immune. “Do you think I’d waste a date by putting a time limit on it?” Snorting, he shook his head . . . just as she took a sip of her drink.

Bear satisfied, he said, “No, I just had a very interesting conversation with Monique Ling.”

“Monique?” She took another sip. “Everything I know of her—and I dug deep when I first met her—says she has no political or fanatical leanings.”

“No, but at least one of the men she brought home might.”

When he told her what he’d learned, she turned off the organizer and angled herself to better face him, her fingers still around the drink. “Have you told Grandmother?”

“No. I want to know if we’re right first.”

Silver nodded at once. “Agreed.” The possibility of Silver’s poisoner being a Mercant had caused a deep schism in Ena, calling all her beliefs about family, about loyalty, into question.

To heal that schism and return her grandmother’s absolute trust in the bonds of family, they had to give her categorical proof that no Mercant had been involved. “Erik is waiting outside his apartment down this street.”

Silver briefed the rawboned human male after they picked him up—even after a short acquaintance, she knew he could be trusted to keep the secret. According to the psychological profile run by a previous employer, if Erik had a flaw, it was that he tended to be loyal to people long after they’d failed to live up to that loyalty.

At this point, after watching her work from her hospital bed to handle crises with no bias motivated by race, creed, or any other divisive factor, he’d given that loyalty to Silver.

“I have to make sure you two don’t torture this dude?” Erik made a face, his eyes—a pale brownish-hazel—dubious, and stubble rough on the red-flushed skin of his jaw. “If he tried to poison Silver,” he said in his Dutch-accented Russian, “I’m happy to help you pound the mudak into dust.”

“I like you,” Valentin said with a baring of teeth, just as his phone rang.

Tapping an earpiece Silver knew he couldn’t stand but that was useful for private conversations, he said, “Pasha, what have you got?” He listened, asked several more questions before hanging up.

She wasn’t the least surprised when he pulled out the earpiece and threw it onto the dash. Shoving a hand through the thickness of his hair, he said, “The possible asshole is still at his apartment—surfing the news sites on his comm. His focus seems to be the recent spate of HAPMA attacks.”

“Pavel does realize hacking is illegal?” Silver curled her fingers into her hand when those fingers wanted to reach out and straighten the strands of Valentin’s hair about to fall into his eyes.

“Who said anything about hacking?” Valentin’s innocent look wouldn’t have fooled a four-year-old. “Here’s how we do the interrogation—you be scary and I’ll be scarier.”

“To a human with ordinary shields,” Silver said coolly, “I am far scarier than you.”

Valentin’s claws sprung out, curved and razor sharp. “What do you want to bet?”

Silver took in those deadly claws. “If you sharpen them to a point, perhaps.”

Both men laughed, but it was Valentin’s laughter that sank into her bones. “Silver Fucking Mercant.” An affectionate look as he pulled into an open parking space on the street.

Getting out, he went around to open her door. “Ready?”

“Let’s do this.” She held eyes that had gone amber when he laughed, still held the bear’s delight. “The loser in the scariness stakes has to eat the other’s choice of food for a day. Erik is the challenge witness and judge.”

A grinning Erik clapped his hands once. “I accept.”

Valentin shuddered. “Now I have to be super scary.” He lifted her out of the vehicle, the move so absentminded she didn’t think he was being purposefully aggressive.

As she and Erik walked with him into the secure apartment building, their way cleared by Pavel in some no-doubt illegal fashion, she was glad she’d worn her highest heels. With Valentin wearing work boots, it put them on a somewhat even footing—he was still taller and much bigger, but they . . . matched.

Match or not, however, it felt as if Valentin took up all the room in the elevator, his big body brushing against hers. Heat and earth and warmth, that was Valentin. Silver told herself to step away, but they were already at the correct floor, and the doors were opening to reveal a neatly carpeted hallway.

Jai Shivani’s apartment was at the very end.

Valentin had Erik push the doorbell, while nudging Silver out of the way of the security camera that allowed the inhabitant of the apartment to see who was standing at his door. The touch was gentle, very un-bearlike if you didn’t understand that bears could be tender with those they loved.

The bear, who stayed out of sight of the camera with Silver, loved her deeply.

“Yes?” The clipped query came through the intercom.

“Oh, hi. I’m, er, your neighbor from downstairs.” Erik sounded appropriately hesitant. “Could we speak?”

A telling pause. Followed by, “About what?”

“My wife and I were hoping to talk you into selling your place.”

“It’s not for sale.”

“Just listen to my offer.”

The camera swiveled without warning, focusing on Valentin and Silver.

“Why has your scent become pungent with fear sweat?” Valentin rumbled. “We simply wish to talk.”

“Get out or I’m calling security.” This time the tremor in Shivani’s voice was unmistakable.