“I’m not at liberty to discuss the details of the case,” she says simply.
The same deflection she once used with me. Effective, but the hard divot between Alister’s furrowed brows conveys he’s not impressed.
“We’re leaving.” I grab her wrist and tow her toward the doors as the relentless questions follow.
“Dr. St. James, can you give us any update on what the task force recently discovered at a crime scene?” a woman asks. “What this new evidence might mean?”
Halen’s steps falter, and her gaze snaps to Alister at the front of the room. “I haven’t been made aware of any discovered evidence at the newest scene.”
“Are you confirming there is a new crime scene, then? Has there been another murder?”
Alister makes an attempt to throttle the questions. “Dr. St. James is a psychologist and can only speak in a capacity relating to behavioral theories, not facts on the case.”
No one buys that line of bullshit. Especially not Halen as her eyes narrow on the agent.
A bold reporter cuts right through the murky tension. “Agent Alister, then what are the characteristics you’re looking at for the Hollow’s Row Mangler? What areas are you searching for leads on the suspect?”
Alister waves his hand. “Any leads are confidential, and so are any suspect profiles.”
That same reporter pivots to Halen. “Dr. St. James, it’s been rumored the town’s missing locals are being looked at as suspects. Are the victims being included in the profiles?”
Alister stares at Halen through the round of camera flashes that capture the animosity between the two task force members.
Halen gives the reporter an answer. “At the moment, the task force is only looking at the missing locals in connection to the suspect. Learning as much as we can about the victims may lead us to a suspect they were all connected to, that’s all.”
Despite her attempt to redirect the assumption, the reporters latch on to the juicy thread, pitching more questions in the same vein.
The squeak of Alister’s chair emits through the speakers, drawing the attention of the room as he stands. “The FBI are looking into every possible lead, and considering every angle in order to apprehend the perpetrators and find the victims. Thank you for your time. This concludes the meeting.”
As press reporters and journalists continue to demand answers, Halen ignores their barrage of questions and starts toward the other side of the room, Alister in her sights.
I circle an arm around her waist and pull her to a stop. “Not happening here.”
“He’s keeping information from us,” she says.
“We’ll get it soon enough.”
Agent Hernandez uses his girth to cut a path through the crush of bodies, and I guide Halen behind him until we exit into the hallway. I direct us farther down to escape the trailing members of press.
Halen pulls free of my hold. “Where are we going?”
I look at Hernandez. “What is it that you want?” I demand. “Recognition? Praise? Name in the papers?”
His features draw together, but he knows exactly what I’m talking about. “I want to work the case,” he says. “I want to know what you guys know about the crime scenes.”
I nod slowly. “You stop anyone from entering this room—” I point to the interrogation room “—and you have a deal.”
Halen forces a derisive laugh. “Be careful of making deals with the devil, agent.”
After I get the agent’s confirmation in a firm head nod, I say to him, “Call around to your fed friends and find out what this confidential evidence is.” Then I grab hold of my little muse and drag her into the room.
Halen tries to pull away, but I don’t let her escape.
Once I have the door closed, my hands are on her, trapping her face and pressing her against the wall where I claim her mouth with mine. I swallow her cries of protest, kissing her with the hunger eviscerating the burning pit of my stomach. I kiss her until she’s breathless, until the taste of her fear weakens beneath her yearning.
Breaking away, I say, “You need to steer clear of Alister.”
She drags in a breath, chest heaving. “But we need to know—”
“We do know,” I say, cutting her off. “In less than five minutes, Agent Hernandez is going to knock on that door and tell us the carving knife was recovered.”
Her swallow drags along her throat. The anxious flare of her hazel eyes reveals she knows this is the truth. Soon as they pull the prints and DNA from that knife, they’ll come for me.
“So in the five minutes I have with you,” I say, coiling the lock of white around my finger, “I’m not wasting a single one talking.”
“You’re breaking your word…” She trails off.
I lick my lips and smile. “I said I wouldn’t enter your room. I made no promises about entering anywhere else.” My gaze roams down her body to make my point.
She presses her palms to my chest. “I can’t let you do this to me.” The pain etched in her face is so beautiful, my chest pangs. “Not yet…”
I clasp her cheeks between my hands and angle her face up to me. “The longer you deny us, the more pain you inflict.” My words fall to her lips in heated assertion. “It’s the balance of two powers, the union of Apollo and Dionysus. It’s cruel and torturous to separate them, and only serves to make us suffer.” I brush my lips over hers in tender beckoning, earning a seductive shiver. “Give in to us, Halen. Let me show you how.”
Her breaths tremble past her lips, her anguish scorching my throat. “I’m terrified.”
In the confines of the dimly lit interrogation room, I bring her braided hair over her shoulder and slip off the hair tie. I push the woven band into her pocket before I grip her waist and lift her into my arms. Then I have her mouth captured in a sensual kiss.
Her throaty little moans vibrate through me, setting me ablaze and making me fucking insane as she threads her fingers into my hair. I crush her harder to me, unhinged at the feel of her deepening the kiss, her tongue slipping over mine to claim her territory, her thighs locked around my hips.
I drink in her fear and heartache and surrender, a fiend demanding more.
Carrying her to the center table, I seat myself on the edge, allowing Halen to straddle me, her arms linked around my neck.
“Fuck. I need to taste you.” I drag the collar of her shirt off her shoulder and trail my mouth over her skin, kissing a needy path to the bite mark I branded in her flesh.
“I don’t want to want you,” she confesses, her voice raw.
“I know,” I say, and press my forehead to hers, our breathing tangled between us. With urgent conviction, I kiss her until I’m feral with desire, until I can no longer feel her confliction in the kiss. “Hate me later. Hell, I’ll even let you punch my face. But right now, I want you sitting on it.”
Holding her to me, I deny her any further debate. I flip her around and place her back to the table surface, where I hover above her. I reach between us and unfasten the clasp of her jeans, rewarded with a seductive flinch from her belly.
She pulls me to her and seals her mouth over mine in a brutal kiss. Goddamn, she gives in so hard, she damn near sucks my soul through her kiss. She bites into my lip, drawing a hint of blood that melds into a mix of pleasure and pain so lovely, I’m lost to her as our movements become frantic, the need unbearable.
Our planets finally fucking align, the conjunction of two heavenly bodies connect, and that rare feeling of harmony is transcendent.
I grip the band on either side at her soft hips and tow her jeans down her thighs. With a grunt, I raise up and yank them the rest of the way down her legs, then grasp the thin fabric of her panties and tear through them, baring her to me. I push her knees into the air and spread her thighs to position her where I want her.
Her body racks with shivers as I lower myself between her thighs, worshipful, savage, and unable to stop as I catch sight of her glistening arousal.
