Shadow Bound. Rachel Vincent

we could try—”

      “I ordered room service,” I said, giving the knot a final tug to tighten it. “Should be here in—” A knock came from the suite door. “Right about now.”

      She followed me to the living area and stood with her arms crossed over her chest while I signed for the food and the waiter laid it out on the table. “I thought we were going out for breakfast.”

      “We were. Now we’re not.” I handed the bill back to the waiter and he left, while she continued to scowl at me. “I ordered a little of everything. Take your pick.” She opened her mouth to complain—I could see it on her face—but I spoke over her. “And don’t tell me you’re not hungry. I hate it when women starve themselves to achieve some stupid physical ideal that only looks natural on a twelve-year-old. Men don’t want women who look like children. Not real men, anyway.”

      Her eyes narrowed and I could almost hear her teeth grind together. I crossed my arms over my chest and watched her, waiting to see her head explode. She opened her mouth to start what would surely have been an award-worthy string of expletives. But then she saw my face.

      “You’re baiting me,” she accused, hands propped on her bony hips.

      “Yes.” I started uncovering plates, stacking the domed covers on the coffee table. “You are the most interesting thing Tower has shown me so far. But I do think you’re too thin. Will you eat with me?” I sat at the table and pushed another chair out for her with my foot.

      She stood for a moment, watching me. Considering. Then she glanced at the plates steaming on the hotel table. “Fine. But I call the waffles.”

      “I’ll split them with you.”

      After another moment of consideration, she nodded.

      We rearranged food on the plates, splitting the eggs and bacon as well, unwrapping silverware and passing salt, pepper and tiny bottles of syrup back and forth. When I was full and her plate was empty—Kori ate an entire Belgian waffle in under three minutes—I set my remaining food in front of her and leaned back in my chair, watching her from across the table. Studying her.

      Reminding myself that she was a means to an end. A tool. Nothing more. No matter how fast my pulse rushed when she looked up, and I realized I’d never seen eyes with such depth, like everything she’d ever seen was still in there staring back at me, daring me to take a closer look.

      One moment she looked vulnerable and bruised, and I wanted to bandage wounds I couldn’t even see. Then a second later, that woman was gone, and in her place stood a fierce hellcat, angry at the world and spitting flames with every word, and I wanted to poke her just to see the sparks fly.

      I couldn’t figure her out. But the more time I spent with her, the worse I wanted to, and that was dangerous. Kori was dangerous. Tower knew what he was doing when he sent her. How could anyone spend more than five minutes with her and not be fascinated by her? Not want her?

       Focus, Ian. Play to win.

      “Okay, this is your moment.” I crossed my arms over my chest and leaned back in my chair. “I am rested, fed and as receptive as I’m going to be. Tell me why I should join the Tower syndicate.”

      Kori hesitated with her fork halfway to her mouth, egg yolk dripping into a puddle of leftover syrup on her plate. “Right now? Just like that?”

      I nodded. “Wow me.”

      She lowered her fork slowly and stared at me from across the table. I’d thrown her off balance, and I was a little relieved to realize that was even possible. “Well, obviously there’s a steady paycheck. A nice one, considering the strength and rarity of your Skill.”

      I shrugged. “Every job pays. What will I get from the syndicate that I’m not already getting as a systems analyst?”

      Kori laughed out loud, and I almost joined her. Then I remembered to pretend that it was perfectly plausible for me to sit behind a desk all day weighing the pros and cons of various software options for a billion-dollar company, when the truth was that I lived more than an hour from the nearest internet connection, connected to my family only by satellite phone.

      Too bad that part of my cover story was set in stone.

      “What’s so funny?” I demanded, though I could easily have answered that question myself.

      “Can I answer in the form of a list?” she asked, and I nodded, curious now. “The fact that you think you’re getting anything out of being a systems analyst is hilarious. The fact that I don’t even know what a systems analyst does is even funnier. Then there’s the fact that you are a systems analyst. I knew that, but now that I’ve met you, I just … can’t see it.”

      “People are rarely what they seem to be at first glance,” I said, trying to pretend I didn’t agree with every thing on her list. “It’s my job to analyze systems. It’s your job to tell me why I’d like answering to Jake Tower more.”

      Her smile faded, and I wanted to take it all back. But I had a part to play.

      “The apartment.” She set the fork down and pushed her plate away. “I know you haven’t seen it yet, but it’s really—”

      I shook my head. “Dig deeper. You’re still throwing money at me, but this isn’t about money.”

      Kori frowned, and her eyes narrowed like they did when she got irritated—a pattern I was already starting to recognize. “Of course it’s about money. You wouldn’t be here if you didn’t need cash.”

      “Is that why you joined? For the money?”

      Her frown slipped a little. “I don’t give a shit about the money.” But I’d already known that. She hated champagne and hors d’oeuvres. She preferred boots to stilettos. This was not a woman interested in wealth or social visibility. “I had my reasons.”

      I wanted to hear her reasons. Badly. But if she’d wanted me to know, she would have told me. “I have my reasons, too.” And that may have been the truest thing I’d said to her so far.

      “Does that mean you’re going to join? Or have I fucked this up already?”

      There it was again, that vulnerability. That depth in her eyes, and the way she held her breath waiting for my answer.

      “That means I’m going to give you another shot. Tomorrow. Maybe by then you’ll have figured out what carrot to dangle in front of me.”

      “This isn’t a fucking game, Ian,” she snapped, and I smiled. I couldn’t help it.

      “That’s the first time you’ve said my first name. And of course this is a game. Right now, you’re losing.”

      She stood, hands flat on the table, eyes flashing in anger. “You can put on a suit and sit in front of a keyboard every day for the rest of your life if you want, but that’s not going to change who and what you are. You’re a Blinder, and a risk-taker. A thrill-seeker.”

      I shook my head, ready to deny what I already recognized as truth—words from my own head, falling out of her mouth. But she cut me off before I could speak.

      “I saw your face when you let the shadows fade around us last night, and I know that look. Darkness is in you, Ian. It’s part of you. You’re not going to feel whole until you’re free to live in the shadows of your own creation, and that’s not going to happen for you as a fucking systems analyst. But it can happen for you in syndicate service. And if you’re going to join one, you might as well join the best.”

      “And do you really think the Tower syndicate is the best?”

      Kori blinked, and I glimpsed something she was about to dance around, without actually denying—a trick syndicate employees learned quickly. “You will never find a better financial opportunity than what Jake is offering you. You’ll never find a syndicate with better security or fringe benefits. But if you go into