Uh-oh. I could see where this was headed. “Look. I don’t do the whole interpreting gig, savvy? Don’t even consider coming to me every time you want to know what she’s up to.”

“I could pay you,” he said, sounding a lot like Sussman. “I have money.”

“How much we talking?”

After a soft knock on the door, Uncle Bob poked his big head with his burly mustache into the room. “We’re heading out,” he said.

“What are you doing with Teddy?” I asked, concern leaping into my voice.

“He’s going to a safe house with a couple of uniforms. We’ll make more permanent arrangements tomorrow.”

Taft and I stepped out of my bedroom to a near-empty apartment. The DA took my hand, pumping it hard in enthusiasm. “Ms. Davidson, you have done an outstanding job here today. Outstanding.”

“Thank you, sir,” I said, choosing not to mention that my outstanding work involved falling through a skylight and making a ham-and-turkey sandwich. “Uncle Bob helped. A little.”

The man snorted and headed out the door. After Teddy pulled me into a big bear hug, he followed. The hug felt nice. He would be okay. Well, if Price didn’t get to him.

“Are we on for the sting tomorrow night?” I asked Ubie as the last of the officers shuffled out.

“The task force wants to meet with us first thing tomorrow morning. We’ll see. This could be enough to bring him down.”

“Wait, no,” I said in protest. “Uncle Bob, we can’t risk Teddy’s life. We have to get more evidence on Price without resorting to Teddy’s testimony. And we still have to find Father Federico. What if Benny Price has him?”

Uncle Bob lowered his brows, frustrated himself. “Right now, Teddy’s testimony is all we’ve got. We need to bring this guy to his knees, Charley, and we need to do it soon. We have to put a stop to his whole operation.”

I stood my ground, refused to budge, stomped my foot … metaphorically. “Just give me one chance. You know what I can do. We have to at least try.”

With what looked like the weight of a sumo wrestler on his shoulders, Uncle Bob thought about my offer. “Let’s see what the task force has to say tomorrow.”

“What are you cooking up now?” Cookie asked after Ubie left.

“Oh, you know me,” I said, pointing at Amber with a grin. “Nothing I can’t handle.”

Amber had fallen asleep on the couch, her hair a perfect arc framing her delicate features. That girl was going to be such a heartbreaker.

Cookie pursed her mouth against a smile and shook her head. “Flirting’s exhausting work.”

“Damn straight, it is,” I said, rounding the sofa to open the door.

Cookie nudged Amber awake, then led her across the hall to their apartment. After a couple of near misses with a doorjamb and a potted plant, Cookie turned to me and said, “Don’t think we’re not going to talk about what happened today.”

Oh, right, the near-death experience. “Well, don’t think we’re not going to talk about your attitude,” I said, angling for a distraction.

She winked at me and closed her door.

And then we were alone. I stood grasping the doorknob as if it were a life raft, shaking with anticipation. In a whispery rush of air, he materialized behind me. The earthy smell of elements, rich and potent, surrounded me. Then his arm encircled my waist while the other reached up and closed the door.

He pulled me back against his chest, and I melted against him. It was like falling into fire, his heat blazing against my skin, everywhere at once.

“You’re him,” I said, my voice shakier than I’d hoped. “You were there when I was born. How is that possible?”

His mouth was on my neck, searing my flesh as his hand reached under my sweater and trailed flames over my stomach. Cautiously, he tested the area where the tip of his blade had sliced. Somewhere in the back of my mind, I was grateful for his concern.

Then his mouth was at my ear. “Dutch,” he said, his breath fanning across my cheek. “At last.” I turned into him, but he pulled back, studied my face, and I finally had a clear, undiluted view of the magnificent being known as Reyes Farrow.

He did not disappoint. He was the most glorious man I’d ever seen, solid and fluid at once, his lean muscles sculpted from a stone that could liquefy between heartbeats. Coffee-colored hair tumbled over a strong brow and curled behind an ear. The deep mahogany of his eyes, laced with spikes of gold and emerald green, shimmered with barely controlled lust. And his mouth, full and masculine, parted sensually. I now recognized his attire; a prison uniform, as Elizabeth had said. The sleeves had been rolled up to expose his forearms, long and corded with sleek muscles.

With infinite care, he slid his fingertips over my bottom lip, his expression severe, like a child who’d just discovered fireflies and wanted to know what lay behind the magic that illuminated them.

When his finger brushed along my lower teeth, I bit down softly, enclosed my lips over the tip, and suckled the taste, earthy and exotic, off his skin. He hissed in a sharp breath, rested his forehead on mine with eyes closed, and seemed to struggle for control as I drew more of him into my mouth. I wasn’t sure if it was for me or for him, but he braced an arm on the door and pushed me back against it with a groan, his other hand suddenly around my throat, holding me captive as he fought for control over his body.

It was the sexiest thing that had ever happened to me. My body responded to his every touch with a jolt of arousal. A hunger—so hot, it ached—pooled in my abdomen, swirled and expanded with the white heat of desire. I wanted him forever, and in the back of my mind, I couldn’t help but wonder what would happen if he died. Would I still get to have him? Would he come to me after he passed, or would he cross over and leave me to navigate the earthly plane alone? I was so afraid I’d lose him if his physical body expired. I wanted him to wake up, to be mine in flesh as well as in spirit. I was selfish that way.