The Enemy Within (Daughters of the People Series Book 3) (6 page)

Hiro shot Drew a
dirty look and righted his chair. “Are you sure Indigo can be trusted?”

“As sure as I
can be,” Bobby said.

“Is that your
dick talking or your brain?” Drew said bluntly. “’Cause she’s a smokin’ hot
piece of meat, bro, but she ain’t worth my life.”

Hiro rolled his
eyes skyward.

Bobby stood and
leaned across the desk, pinning Drew with a deadly stare. “Watch what you say
about Indigo.”

“If that’s how
you told Laura to leave her alone, it’s no wonder she won’t make coffee,” Drew
shot back.

“Laura didn’t
call her a tramp.”

Drew stood up
abruptly enough to knock his chair back. “I didn’t call her no tramp.”

Hiro rose and
moved to stand between them. “Indigo’s off limits, Drew. She’s
the one
.”

Drew’s brows
drew together with a confused frown. “The who?”

Hiro raised his
eyebrows. “
The one
.”

“Oh.” Drew’s
expression cleared. “Ooooh. The lady in the cups.”

Bobby glanced
back and forth between them. “What?”

“The woman you
talk about when you get drunk,” Hiro said drily.

Bobby drew back
and said flatly, “I never get that drunk.”

“Oh, yes you do,”
Drew said with a laugh. “You used to damn near wax poetic about that woman, with
her big blue eyes and her long black hair and her sweet voice. Damn me, why
didn’t I put it together first?”

“Because you
don’t pay attention,” Hiro said.

Bobby dropped
into his chair, appalled. “I can’t believe I got drunk enough to talk about
her.”

Drew slouched
down into his chair. “It’s no biggie, man.”

“You know our
secrets, too,” Hiro said in a reasonable tone that grated the nerves down Bobby’s
spine.

“Not like that
one.” Bobby rubbed his forehead and tried to tamp down on the embarrassment.
“Any more questions about this job?”

They let the
evasion pass and discussed strategies and tactics for another hour before
breaking up. After they left, Bobby spent the rest of the afternoon making
phone calls and catching up on paperwork, clearing his schedule. He wanted to
have the weekend free for Indigo. They had no set plans, but he hoped to rope
her into spending time with him, just because. They were settling into an
almost easy friendship, comfortable in spite of the lightning sparking between
them at the slightest touch.

He bit back a
hard laugh.

Friendship, hell.
What he felt for her went way beyond that. Memory teased him until he trembled
with it, trembled for her. The way she’d felt in his arms a few days before,
small but strong, warm and soft. The way she’d melted against him and tilted
her head, exposing the graceful column of her throat to his mouth as she
breathed out helpless little gasps. He’d ached and burned with the need to take
her, to ease his hands into the waistband of her tights, roll them down, and
bend her over the nearest piece of furniture so he could bury himself in her
warm heat and forget.

Goddess knew, he
had a lot to forget.

He shifted in
his chair, adjusted the hard length trying to ram itself through the fly of his
slacks. Damn him, he wasn’t good enough for her, never would be again. Knowing
that didn’t kill the fierce urge possessing him, pushing him to claim her
anyway.

* * *

Indigo hummed as
she walked up the stairs to her apartment, juggling grocery bags and keys. It
had been a good week, thanks to Bobby. Furniture shopped for and arranged, a
budding friendship growing between them. Maybe he would come over so she could
repay his help with a hot meal.

And perhaps talk
him into helping her pick out a TV.

He was handy
that way.

Her breath
caught in her throat when a figure stepped into the hallway in front of her. She
tensed for a fight until recognition hit.

“Sister.” India
bowed slightly, traditionally a gesture of respect. On India, the move held
enough contempt for three people.

She’d cut her
hair in the past few months, chopped it off short and gelled it until the inky
locks stood in disordered, finger-combed spikes along her head. The look suited
her, especially when combined with the skin-tight leathers India preferred.
Indigo touched her own long ponytail, smoothed down the oversized sweater she
wore. Why did she always go for comfort over chic and sexy?

“India.” Indigo
dropped the groceries at the threshold of her door and stuck the key in the
lock, leaving the keychain dangling. “What are you doing here?”

“Isn’t it
obvious?” India’s voice took on a playful lilt. “I’ve come a-calling.”

Indigo sighed,
suddenly weary. “What do you want?”

“What, no
pleasantries for your dear sister?” India tsked almost playfully. “That’s no
way to treat a guest.”

“Just spit it
out.”

India’s face
hardened. “If that’s the way you want to play it.”

“It isn’t a
game, India. You know as well as I do that the Blade is out for your blood.”

“I’m not afraid
of Rebecca Upton.”

“Then perhaps
you should be afraid of her son, the Enforcer,” Indigo snapped. “She’s set the
hounds on you, sister dear.”

India tapped a
hand against one leather clad thigh and regarded Indigo thoughtfully. “Is that
concern for me or him?”

“Both. We may
not always see eye to eye, but you’re still my sister. If you harm another one
of the Blade’s children, you’re dead.”

“I had no hand
in Dani’s injuries, nor do I intend to harm the Son of the Blade.” India pursed
her lips. “Unless he gets in my way.”

“He’ll come
after you. You know how persistent he is.”

“Not first hand,
no.” India’s mouth curled with mocking humor. “But you know well enough for the
both of us, don’t you?”

“Please, India.
Whatever it is you’re doing, please just stop it.”

“I can’t. Don’t
you see?” India stepped closer and held out a hand in what Indigo thought might
be a genuine plea for understanding. “The Prophecy must be stopped. That’s all
I’m trying to do.”

“That’s what
this is about?” Indigo breathed out a laugh. “You’re trying to stop the
Prophecy? By the Goddess, India, how do you ever intend to do that?”

“By snuffing out
the Light.” India’s smile turned cruel in the pale beauty of her face. “Stop
the Light, end the Prophecy, and we all live eternally.”

“That’s insane.
No one knows what the Light is or even where to find it.”

“Oh, there are
people who know.”

“People like
Lilith Cæstus, who murdered her way across five continents.” Indigo swallowed
against the bitterness of contempt and fear coating her tongue. “Is that what
you’ve fallen to, India? Murder and madness?”

“Lilith was
never afraid to seize what she wanted.”

“Nor was she
afraid to kill anyone who stood in her way. Don’t do that, India. You’re better
than her.”

India’s laugh
was hollow and harsh. “You’re right about one thing. I
am
better than
Lilith. At least I’m not stupid enough to fall to the blade of a weakling
mortal.”

“Dani is no
weakling, mortal or not.” Indigo drew her patience around her like a mantel.
“It’s not too late to change your course. Bobby’s asked me to help bring you
in.”

“Yes, I know.”
India’s voice sounded oddly gentle. “I came to ask you not to.”

“Why?” Indigo
said, baffled. “I would never allow him to hurt you. You know that.”

“You were always
so tender-hearted,” India murmured. “Even when I hurt you, you would never
raise a hand to me.”

A ding of metal
dropping sounded from the stairwell. Indigo swiveled to check the stairs, then
immediately turned back, her gaze firm on India. “You’re my sister.”

“Such a simple
thing, the trust that implies.”

India edged
closer and held her arms out, waiting patiently, maybe for the trust that had
never really developed between them. Indigo couldn’t let it go, couldn’t bypass
a chance to make amends with her twin, the woman who should’ve been her other
half. She twined her arms around India and sniffed back the tears sparking in her
eyes. They’d never been close. At their age, wasn’t it time for them to be?

Booted footsteps
thudded on the stairs. Indigo tensed and tried to draw back, and was restrained
by the hard band of her sister’s embrace.

“I’ll always love
you, my sister. Truly, I will,” India whispered. “But I can’t allow you or the
Son to stand in my way.”

India shifted
her grip and yanked Indigo around until she was secured across the shoulders,
her back to India’s chest. Indigo struggled briefly against the confinement, and
lost her breath when Bobby appeared at the top of the stairs.

Fear stabbed at
her, not for herself, but for him, for what India might do to him. “Bobby, no!”

Bobby’s gaze
zeroed in on India as he fell into a defensive stance, his lean form beautiful
and deadly.

“My, my, my, if
it isn’t the Enforcer.” India stepped back, dragging Indigo with her. “We were
just talking about you.”

“Let her go,
India,” he said, his voice low, his expression like granite. “She’s the
innocent here.”

“There are no
innocents among the People. Remember that, Bobby Upton.”

India released
Indigo and shoved her toward Bobby, then took off at a dead run down the
hallway toward the staircase at the other end.

Indigo caught Bobby
as he made to follow her sister, and threw all her strength into holding him
back. “No, Bobby, please. She’s my sister.”

Bobby halted in
mid-stride and pinned her with an incredulous stare. “She betrayed the People
and tried to hurt you.”

“She was only
trying to distract you.”

“You’re too
kind, Indigo.” Bobby glanced down the hallway and sighed. “I can’t believe you
let her go like that, knowing what she’s doing.”

She eased her
hold on him one stiff finger at a time. “She’s my sister.”

Bobby cupped her
shoulders with warm, work-roughened hands and rubbed gently. “That doesn’t
excuse anything. You know what she’s capable of, honey. You have to let me shut
her down.”

“I know.” She
sighed and looked up into his lean face, that hard, compelling face that filled
her heart and dreams, and her thoughts whirled into chaos. First India and now
Bobby. What was it about the two of them that sent her into turmoil every single
time they were near? “I can’t think about it now.”

Bobby squeezed
her hard. “You have to. She’s dangerous.”

“I know, I
know.” She brushed a hand over her forehead, willing her scattered brain cells
into some form of coherence. “Look, come inside and we’ll talk. I was going to
make you supper anyway.”

“Now who’s
trying to distract me?”

“Is it working?”

“For now, but
only for now.” He dropped a kiss on her forehead and let her go. “Sooner or
later, you have to face this, Indi. You can’t run from it forever.”

Indigo sucked in
a breath as his words struck home. She’d come back to Tellowee not to face her
past, but to at least stop running from it. Maybe it was better that he never
knew how hard she would run from something she couldn’t face.

Then again, that
was a lesson he’d already learned.

Indigo woke
early Saturday morning with a pounding heart and dread lodged heavily in her
gut. She sat up in bed and searched through the groggy fog in her head for some
meaning, some rhyme or reason behind the disquiet. When it failed to appear,
she threw back the covers with a  huff and took a long hot shower to clear her
head.

Half an hour
later, the fog hadn’t lifted, but at least she was clean. She made her bed and
took a moment to admire its fine craftsmanship. Bobby had done a good job with
it and the matching chest of drawers he’d brought her the evening before. Pride
swelled through her as she ran a hand along the smooth, dark finish of the
headboard, bringing with it amusement.

Where Bobby was
concerned, she hadn’t the right to any pride. That she felt it at all showed
how completely contrary she was.

A cup of tea, she
decided, something to distract herself from the ever present thoughts of Bobby.
No better way to start the day.

While it steeped,
she threw open the curtains and reveled in the bright day blooming outside her
window. A light frost coated the railing of her empty balcony. She assessed the
space with a critical eye. It would be lovely filled with a display of pumpkins
and corn stalks. A trip to the local produce stand should do the trick.

A firm knock
sounded on her door, startling her into a gasp. She placed a hand to her racing
heart and laughed at her own jumpiness. “Come in,” she called.

Bobby opened the
door and stepped inside, a scowl on his face. “Did you leave your door unlocked
last night?”

“Of course not.”

“Don’t leave it
unlocked while you’re here.” He fixed her with a disapproving glare. “And never
allow anyone in without checking who it is first.”

She huffed out an
exasperated breath. “I’m perfectly capable of taking care of myself.”

“Uh-huh. You
took care of yourself real well with India yesterday.”

She turned on
her heel, heading toward the kitchen to check her tea. Why had she bothered to
let him in? If all he could do was criticize, maybe she wouldn’t anymore, no
matter how attractive she found him.  “I know how to break holds.”

He caught up
with her and snagged her in a firm grip, locking her arms in place with hard, muscled
arms wrapped firmly around her torso. “Prove it.”

She rolled her
eyes and relaxed into him. A pleasant warmth stole through her when his body
lined up with hers, her back to his broad chest and her bottom snug against his
manhood. She clamped down on the sudden urge she had to wiggle and squirm,
needling him into reaction, just to see what he would feel like all hard and
needy behind her. “Is this necessary?”

“Absolutely.”

His breath
brushed against the side of her face, tickling her.

“I don’t want to
hurt you,” she murmured.

His low laugh
vibrated through her where his chest touched her back. “Sweetheart, you’re not
gonna hurt me.”

Anger flashed
through her at the smug condescension layered through his voice. So he thought
she, a Daughter with decades of training and experience, couldn’t take him, a
piddling mortal? Weak little Indigo with her soft skin and gracious nature
couldn’t defeat a Son?

She lifted her
legs off the floor, throwing him off balance, then slithered out of his arms
when he lost his grip, evading his grabs with deflecting blows. She came around
in a crouch and launched herself at him, catching him around the middle,
tackling him. Their bodies hit the floor with a solid thud. They rolled, each
grappling for dominance, sliding across the slick hardwood floor until they hit
the side of the couch, Bobby on top. He grabbed her hands and yanked them above
her head, pinning her to the hard surface. She bucked against him, a burning fury
fueling her struggle, and scissored her legs, searching for an opening. If she
could gain traction, she could flip him, and then she’d show him who was weak.

He dropped his
full weight onto her, pushing the breath out of her lungs. Her eyes widened. His
breath hit her temples in harsh puffs as his hard length pressed against her
core, intimate and sweet and so very, very welcome. For  a moment, she lay
still beneath him, savoring his touch, savoring him, pressed against her like a
lover.

No,
Goddess
,
what was she thinking? He couldn’t be there, couldn’t love her the way he
wanted to, the way she secretly yearned to have him. It would spoil everything,
their budding friendship, the tender kisses and glancing touches, the warmth
and need and desire, all gone because of her lack of control.
Not again,
please not another decade without him
.

In a panic, she
redoubled her efforts, shoving at him, and gasped out, “Get off.”

“When you calm
down.”

He dropped a
heavy thigh over hers, countering her attempt to flip him. Her leg slipped up
the inside of his thigh, grazing his groin, and she stilled at his muttered
curse. The anger drained out of her abruptly and their eyes met, his narrowed, hers
amused.

“Oops.”

“You nearly take
my manhood and all you can say is oops?” His mouth twisted into a wry smile.
“Have a heart, Indi, or at least think of my children.”

“You don’t have
any children.”

“Exactly why you
should think of them.” He levered himself off of her, grabbed the hands she
held up to him, and pulled her into a stand. “Another slip like that and I
won’t have a love life either.”

She walked into
the kitchen to check her tea. “We wouldn’t want that, now, would we.”

Bobby followed
her and visibly stifled a laugh at the disgruntled glare she aimed at him. “Tea
cold?”

“Thanks to you.”
She dumped it into the sink and rinsed out her cup. “You owe me breakfast now,
and an apology.”

“Breakfast I’ll
give you, but why the apology?”

“Because you
didn’t believe me when I said I could take care of myself.”

“No, I believed
you, but I’m no fool.” He grinned and rubbed the side of his jaw where a red
spot roughly the size of her fist lingered. “It was as good an excuse as any to
hold you.”

She shook her
head, torn between disgust and laughter, and held herself erect when he stepped
forward and cupped her shoulders, rubbing them gently through her sweater.

“Have you been
working out?” he said.

The concern in
his voice touched her. “There’s a gym here.”

“Yeah, but are
you using it?”

He cupped the
back of her neck with one hand and trailed the other down her arm, entwining
his fingers through hers. She stifled a shudder at the warm shock of desire
coursing through her from such a simple touch, wiping her mind clean of their
conversation. What had he asked her? Right, the gym. “Um. Not yet. No time.”

“Monday morning,
then, we’ll start working out together. No buts,” he said when she made  a
half-hearted protest. “We have a great training center at the office, one floor
up. You’ll love it.”

“Oh, well.” His
fingers tangled in her hair, pulling gently, and her breath caught in her
throat. “I suppose.”

His satisfied
look should’ve made her angry, but when he dropped a kiss to her nose, she
closed her eyes and bit her lip to keep from begging him to
just kiss me
already
, and forgot all about the way he’d manipulated her into agreeing
with him.

They drove his
truck to eat breakfast at a diner in Rabbit Town. By the time they arrived,
Indigo was so hungry, she ate twice as much as she normally would, and groaned
when Bobby tried to get her to eat more.

“We’ve got a long
day ahead of us,” he said as he pushed his toast toward her.

She placed her
hand on top of his to stop him. “I’m stuffed, really,” she said, and he let it
go with a skeptical look.

He helped her
pick out a TV and lamps, and when she tried to buy bookcases to hold the
collection of books she hadn’t yet pulled out of storage, he told her
no
in a voice that brooked no argument.

“Should’ve
brought some from the storage unit,” he said gruffly.

“You have book
cases in storage. That you made?”

“Sure. Back in
the back, behind your bedroom suite.”

“You can’t keep
giving me your furniture, Bobby.”

He shrugged.
“It’s mine to give.”

“Yes, but you’re
going to want it back when you get married and…” The truth shuddered through
her, a wildfire of knowledge and knowing. “Bobby.”

“What?” He
caught the sweet sadness in her look and hunched his shoulders. “It’s not like
that.”

“Are you sure?”
she said gently. “Because that’s what it looks like to me.”

He glanced away,
but not before she saw the loss and sorrow fill his expression. “You turned me
down.”

“You were
sixteen, Bobby. Still a child in so many ways, and my student on top of that.”
She wrapped her hands around his firm triceps, holding the man he’d become. The
echo of that day pounded through her, the horror and embarrassment that had
chased her through fourteen years of running. They bounced through her until
they diminished, leaving only regret behind. “What else was I supposed to do?”

“Nothing.” His
face hardened into an impassive mask, sending uneasy chills down her spine. “We
should head back now.”

Her heart sank.
She followed him through the checkout line, then out to his truck, and waited
patiently while he started it, searching for the man she’d come to know behind
the shell he’d erected around himself. When they hit the highway, he flipped
the radio on, filling the silence that stretched between them, taut and cold
and frighteningly empty.

* * *

The cool night
air chilled India Furia’s skin as she climbed up the side of Hiro Okada’s
apartment building, boosting herself from balcony to balcony in a zigzagging
line upward using ropes, grappling hooks, and the strength of her own body.

It would’ve been
easier to climb down from the roof, if he lived in a building without roving
security guards and keycard locks on all the entrances, including the one in
the lobby. Those effectively sealed off access to the roof. Using the
balconies, which had no such protection, seemed more prudent than trying to
trick his building’s security. The only risks she took were being caught by
night owls peering out their windows and bypassing the locks on the balcony’s French
door once she reached Hiro’s floor.

With any luck,
he’d left it open to catch a good breeze while he slept, but she doubted it.
During their one brief meeting, he hadn’t struck her as being either careless
or a fool.

She pulled
herself silently over the railing onto his balcony and stripped off her gear,
piling it in one corner of the empty landing while she caught her breath.

She’d approached
Hiro as she’d approached the others working with Bobby Upton, only after much
research and thought. She’d initially hoped to stall the investigation or stop
it all together, but they were a loyal bunch, for the most part. Of all the
people she’d approached, Bobby’s two Army buddies seemed the least likely to
betray him. Yet here she was, on Hiro Okada’s balcony, about to try again to
gain his help in some way.

His face drifted
into her mind as she wound the ropes she’d used into neat coils, and with it
came a sensation she had difficulty pinning down. Sharp as anger, but without
its rancor, and holding something close to tenderness, which was just
ridiculous. Her heart held no tender emotions. They’d all been burned out of
her a long time ago.

The door behind
her slid open. She turned to find Hiro standing in the open doorway, braced
against the frame, bare chested and wearing loose pajama bottoms. Security
lights from the parking lot below played along his body, throwing his muscled
torso into relief above the low-slung bottoms. She risked a glance downward,
traced the sparse hair below his navel as it disappeared beneath the waistband,
and caught sight of his bare feet as her gaze went lower. They were long and
narrow and graceful, much like the rest of him, and her breath caught in her
throat as she imagined his long, slim body nude.

She bit back a
groan. What a fool she was, to risk blowing her mission because she was
attracted to a man. She turned her back on him and stooped to gather her gear
so she could leave, then popped upright when he spoke.

“Bit chilly
tonight,” he said, with no inflection in his voice, as if they’d met on the
street instead of on his balcony in the middle of the night.

“A bit.” She
winced at the insipid reply, grateful he couldn’t see her face.

“A little late
for a visit, though.”

She flushed at
the mild reprimand, then scowled at her reaction. “You didn’t have to open the
door,” she snapped.

His chuckle
skimmed over her skin like a touch from his elegant hands, leaving her
deliciously warm in places that should’ve been untouched. “If I hadn’t, you
would’ve broken in, and I like my locks the way they are.”