He planted an inquisitive stare on me. “You’re not sleeping.”

I blinked in surprise. “I can’t. You’re … there.”

The tension in his shoulders eased ever so slightly and his chin lowered as though ashamed. “I don’t mean to be.”

“I can tell.” His confession stunned me. Though I hid the pain of that statement from my voice, he had to have felt the emotion churning inside me.

“What do you mean?”

“You’re just … you’re angry.” I bit back a surge of humiliation and admitted, “You don’t want to be there, to be with me.”

He looked to the side, annoyed. It gave me a chance to study his profile, fierce and noble at once. Even in a prison uniform, he was the most powerful being I’d ever seen, like a beast who lived on strength and instinct alone.

“I’m not angry because I don’t want to be there, Dutch,” he said, his voice soft, hesitant. He pinned me to the spot with the seriousness of his gaze. “I’m angry because I do.”

Before my heart could soar too high with that tidbit, I decided to address his earlier claims. “This morning when you came to me,” I began, my cheeks suddenly burning in embarrassment, “you said that it was all me. That I’m summoning you. That I’ve always summoned you, but that’s impossible.”

After a long pause that had me almost squirming in my chair, he said, “Someday you’ll figure out what you’re capable of. We’ll talk about it then.” Before I could question him on that front, he spoke again. This time his voice was little more than a harsh whisper. “Unbind me.”

I cringed in reaction. I knew it would come to this. I knew it was the reason he wanted to talk in the first place. Why else? Like he would actually just want to see me. I lowered my head. “I can’t unbind you. I don’t know how.”

“Actually, you do,” he said, watching me with a practiced eye.

I shook my head. “I’ve tried. I just don’t know how.”

The chains rattled against the table as he leaned in. “I won’t—” He glanced at the camera self-consciously. “—I won’t try what I attempted to do the last time you saw me.” Meaning, he wouldn’t try to rid himself of his corporeal body by essentially committing suicide. “You need to know that. You can’t undo what you did unless you trust me.”

“I told you, I tried. I don’t think trust has anything to do with it.”

“Trust has everything to do with it.” He rose from the table, knocking his chair back, and fought visibly to control his emotions.

I raised a hand toward the camera, letting Neil know it was okay; then I stood as well. “I’ll try again,” I said, forcing my voice to stay calm.

“You have to unbind me,” he whispered, his voice laced with desperation.

It occurred to me that this was about more than his being set free. He had a goal, a purpose; I could see it shimmering in his eyes. “Why?”

The heat that forever radiated off him seeped into my clothes and skin, causing a flush of unwanted desire to wash through me. Clearly Reyes had better things to contemplate than me and my pathetic crush.

He stared hard and spoke through clenched teeth. “I have unfinished business. And if you think these chains will keep me from it, you’re gravely mistaken, Dutch.”

Though the table was still between us, I stepped back warily. “Neil will be in here in two seconds.”

He lowered his head, watched me from underneath his dark lashes as though I were a meal. “Do you have any idea what I can do in two seconds?”

The door to the interview room burst open and three guards rushed in, batons in hand. Neil stepped past them and looked from me to Reyes, then back again. “This is over.”

Reyes didn’t lift his head. He just turned it and offered Neil an incredulous stare. The blood drained from Neil’s face, but he stood his ground, impressing everyone in the room who knew what Reyes was. The guards stood oblivious, ready for a fight. They were clearly new.

I’d barely taken a step when Reyes’s attention snapped toward me again. He stood there, so still, my mind conjured a cobra ready to strike.

“I think we’re finished, Neil. Thank you.” My words were breathy with a combination of fear and adrenaline.

Two of the guards stepped forward and took Reyes by the arms to lead him out. To my utter astonishment, he let them, but just before he crossed the threshold, he turned back to me and said, “You leave me no choice.” After a quick glance at Neil, he stepped out and let the men escort him down the hall.

Neil turned an ashen expression on me. “So, it went well?”

5

I know karate, and like two other Japanese words.

—T-SHIRT

I careened onto the interstate and set Misery to medium-high, my head still reeling. Reyes was nothing short of an enigma. So primal and ethereal. So fierce and, well, pissed. But damn those biceps.

My cell started singing out the chorus to “Da Ya Think I’m Sexy?” I flipped it open. “What’s up, Cookie?”

“So?”

“So?”

“So?”

“Cookie, seriously.”

“Charley Davidson,” she said in her best motherly voice, “don’t think for a minute you’re going to keep even the smallest details from me.”

I cracked up, then thought about Reyes again and my breath hitched in my chest. “Oh, my god, Cook, he’s so … he’s just so…”

“Stunning? Gorgeous? Magnetic?”

“Add really, really angry to that, and you’ve nailed him with a sledgehammer.”

She sucked in air through her teeth. “I was afraid of that. You have to tell me everything. Wait, where are you?”

“On the interstate, heading out of Santa Fe.”

“Well, stop.”

“Here?”

“Yes.”

“Okay, but if I die, I’m coming back to haunt you.” It was only fair. I took the next exit and headed back toward town.

“Deal. From what I’ve found out, Dr. Feelgood has no priors, but he was arrested in college. A death threat, or something. The charges were dropped, so there’s nothing really juicy in the database.”