she’d thought. “And right now, you look better than the alternative.”
“So you’re saying that if conditions change and you think someone else can keep you safe, you’ll switch sides?”
Say no, say no …
“Yes.” She couldn’t lie for shit. Phoebe seemed to have gotten all of that particular talent.
Stryker stiffened, seeming perplexed, as if he couldn’t believe she’d told the truth, so therefore it must be a lie. But if it was a lie, then it meant she wouldn’t change sides, which meant he could trust her. Yep, she’d just trapped him in a web of his own skepticism.
“Fuck.” He rolled off her and lay beside her, staring up at the ceiling. “This would have been so much easier if Phoebe had been in the apartment instead of you.”
“So sorry I ruined your homicide party.” She sat up and shook out her arm, which had fallen asleep when it had been pinned awkwardly between her hip and the mattress.
With a snarl, he shoved away from the bed and stalked to the window. “When will Phoebe make her appearance?”
“Around two in the afternoon.”
“Can you stop her?”
She narrowed her eyes at him. “I thought you wanted to see her.”
“Oh, I’m dying to see her,” he said in a dark, ominous voice. “But not until I’m ready.”
Okay, so she needed to stay in control as long as possible. “If we go back to my place, there’s a way. A drug Itor developed to help Phoebe stay in control at critical times on missions. If I take it, it will keep her suppressed for a few extra hours.”
“Fine. We head back to your place.”
“But won’t that be dangerous? With those guys after us? Maybe we should … you know …”
“I already told you, it’s not going to happen.”
“I swear, I won’t use my powers on you.”
“That’s not my issue.”
“Then what is?”
“My issue is that I’d rather face a battle than fuck the woman who killed my best friend.” His gaze raked her from head to toe, and then, with a sneer, he said, “Besides, if I’d wanted you, I’d have had my chance a minute ago.”
How crazy was it that what he’d just said actually stung? She should be happy he didn’t want her. “Guess the fact that you’re a good guy saved me, huh?” She shoved to her feet. “It’s a really good thing you told me you were ACRO instead of Itor, because right now I’m having a hard time telling them apart.”
With that, she slammed into the bathroom.
Stryker stared at the closed bathroom door.
He couldn’t believe he’d let himself have a hard-on for her, how easily he’d let his guard down, and he cursed himself for the same instinct he would’ve trusted before Akbar’s death.
Kindness had always been one of Stryker’s best qualities, and Akbar had encouraged him not to lose that, not to get so much of an edge that he lost his instincts about people.
Akbar had been too fucking kind himself—if he hadn’t stepped out in front of Stryker …
Fuck, he couldn’t go there now. There was too damned much to do—for Akbar and for ACRO.
Fire-and-ice woman might as well be the spawn of the devil, because seriously, being Alek’s daughter wasn’t any better.
Dev was going to flip. And, of course, tell Stryker not to kill her. Melanie was more valuable than any of them even knew.
Stryker needed to call Dev with the news ASAP and he also needed the backup from TAG—and Devlin would be the one to call in the cavalry for him. Because come two P.M. , fire-bitchwould emerge and Stryker knew he’d have a hard time not killing her.
Of course, he’d like to spend some time in a nice, quiet location scaring the shit out of her with a few earthquakes. Torture had never been his speed, but these months of searching for Phoebe—and for revenge—had left a metallic, bitter taste in his mouth and his normally even personality in shreds.
Yeah, not good. He checked his watch. It would be close to six in the morning back in New York. That wouldn’t matter—Dev