8. Clay
Chapter 8
Clay
Fiona spends the next few days dodging any involvement with Infinitum, even as we get closer to finding proof that she’s full of shit. I fantasize how she’ll react when we call her out. Will she deny it? Will she get on her knees and beg for mercy? I smile at the imagery.
“What are you grinning about?” Fiona asks, yanking me out of my fantasy as she joins me at the coffee machine in the executive lounge.
I stir my coffee and grin at her. “Just imagining a woman on her knees for me.”
Her gaze narrows, and she shoves me aside to grab a mug. “Charming.”
“No. She’s more of a brat,” I say, taking a sip and raking my gaze over her body just because it riles her up. And hell, she’s got a nice body.
Her cheeks flame and I’m about to congratulate myself on my victory when Edgar Hamilton walks into the room, stealing the very air from it.
Fiona stiffens and steps aside as he grabs his own mug. He glances at us, pausing to take a better look at me, then pours himself a cup.
“This lounge is for executives only.”
Ironic that he had me in a cage for years, but doesn’t recognize me in the real world. Raven was right. The man is as egotistical as he is diabolical.
Fiona moves closer to me and I catch waves of anxiety rolling off of her. Something tugs at my chest. Do I make her feel safe? Then again, with Edgar as her evil boss, the bar for safety is in hell.
“Emilia gave us permission to use it. Take it up with her,” I say.
He pours a hefty amount of creamer into his cup and stirs before he takes a sip, staring at us both.
“I know you,” he says, making my heart stop before I realize his narrowed gaze is meant for Fiona.
She flinches, and her arm touches mine as she moves even closer. “Fiona Edgewater, Sir,” she says.
“Oh. Yes, well. Unfortunate circumstances and all that.”
My eyebrows scrunch together, and she stares at the floor.
“Emilia asked me to help with the Angelo Tech transition. My presence is only temporary.”
He smiles, but it doesn’t reach his eyes. “Of course it is.” He looks me up and down. “Do you know who I am?”
My lips quirk up. Evil asshole. Genocidal maniac. Power hungry madman. I could go on.
“I’m part of the security team. Of course I do,” I say, throwing his condescending air back at him. He maintains eye contact while I envision putting an end to this right now. With a flick of my wrist, he’d be dead in seconds. I’ve done it before. It was easier than breathing.
He stares at us with his dead eyes, then leaves.
Fiona lets out a long breath and leans against the counter as she hangs her head.
“Are you okay?” I ask.
She swallows and straightens. “Yeah. I was just hoping to avoid him.”
My eyebrow climbs. “Why is that?”
She winces. “It’s personal.”
My body moves and I put my hand on her shoulder. “I won’t let him hurt you.” The words fly out of my mouth and she stares at me, confusion all over her pretty face. It’s probably all over mine too because what the actual fuck?
“I know.”
She utters those two simple words with a confidence that makes my chest heavy. We stare at each other as I struggle with how to respond. Why do I want to protect her? She works for the people who imprisoned me. I should want her to suffer just like the rest of them, yet my instincts, my powers, want nothing more than to claim her. I’m more fucked up than I thought.
Her gaze dips to my hand on her shoulder, and I yank it back. She leaves without a word, and I watch her go, wondering what the hell just happened. She was terrified of Edgar. That’s not uncommon, considering he rules with fear. Confusion courses through me and I sigh, topping off my coffee and heading back to the conference room.
Emilia breezes into the room on Friday. “If you don’t have plans, I’d love it if you’d come over for dinner tomorrow night,” she says to Fiona. Emilia loves to cook, and once she found out Paul is a culinary genius, we’ve been reaping the benefits of their lessons all week.
Fiona seems surprised. “Of course. I’d love to. Thank you so much.”
Emilia smiles. “Perfect. I’ll send you the details. I’m inviting the executives from Angelo Tech that are interested in staying on after the merger. There aren’t many,” she says, chuckling to herself.
Before Fiona can respond, Emilia heads back to her office. After another few hours of fruitless investigation, the sun sinks past the horizon and Dylan signals for us to pack up. “Thanks for your hard work this week. We’ll see you tomorrow night,” Dylan says to Fiona.
She nods and glances at me. We hold eye contact for a moment and my power surges towards her, but I yank it back, biting the inside of my cheek with the effort. It only lasts a few seconds before she leaves and disappears from view.
I collapse into the chair just as Paul walks into the room. “Dude, I could sense you from the other side of the building.”
I stare at him for a second before what he’s saying clicks. I mutter a curse and go through the exercise Skye taught us so we can block our frequencies from other super soldiers. We all give off a frequency that’s different from civilians. I’m the only one that can see it, but everyone else can feel it. It’s why we’re all drawn to each other. None of us were aware we could hide our frequencies until Eli Davenport taught Skye how to do it while she was in captivity at Victor Angelo’s estate a few months ago.
We’re all still wary of Eli and his intentions, but he’s the reason Syke is safe and Victor is dead. Raven is convinced that our goals align, and he’s a rogue agent, but I’m under no illusions that he’s working for us. He’s got his own agenda and the second our goals don’t align, I’d bet my left arm he’d turn on us.
“I thought you had things under control?” Dylan asks, and I shove the laptop in the bag and gather my jacket.
“Momentary lapse. I’ll be fine.”
He eyes me like he doesn’t quite believe me, but he keeps his mouth shut.
“Has Fiona cracked yet?” Paul asks.
“Not yet.”
“Anything on your end?” Dylan asks.
Paul sighs and shakes his head. “Emilia is on her way home and threatened bodily harm if I didn’t leave her alone for the rest of the night. Specter is monitoring her.”
“Anything from the Angelo Execs?”
“They’re pissed, but Emilia is bringing them around to the possibilities. She’s an impressive woman.”
“Careful big guy. She’s married,” I say.
Paul’s eyes twinkle. “Still haven’t met the husband yet.”
“He’ll be home from his work trip tonight. Luke tells me they’re very much in love, so don’t do anything stupid,” Dylan says, and I share a look with Paul. Can nobody take a joke? We both smile and follow him out of the room, flipping the light off.
“Pretty sure Clay will make a move on Fiona first,” Pauls says, and my smile drops.
“Don’t even joke about that,” I mutter.
“Who says I’m joking?”
“Did you forget she’s the enemy?”
He frowns, which tells me he had. Maybe he’s getting too attached, too. “We don’t know that for sure.”
“Her dad is an Infinitum mouthpiece. She’s on a first name basis with Cruella de Ville. What more do you need?” I jam my finger on the call button for the elevator.
“Have you tried talking to her about it?”
I open my mouth but close it quickly. No, I haven’t asked her anything personal the entire week.
“She seems drawn to you. It wouldn’t hurt to see if you can get her to open up,” Dylan says and I glower at him.
“I’m not whoring myself out for anyone,” I growl.
Dylan looks taken aback, and rightfully so. He doesn’t know my past.
“I didn’t say anything about having sex with her,” he says and I drop my shoulders. No, he didn’t, but my mind went there faster than a speeding super soldier. I’m obsessed with her pulse point next to her collarbone. Not that I’d admit that to anyone. You can’t blame a guy for being attracted to a purple-haired succubus with a fiery attitude that does weird things to my blood pressure.
Paul’s smile is knowing, but I ignore him. Dylan has a point, though. Getting her to open up about her personal life could lead us right to the evidence we need. I guess I’ll have to make the tremendous sacrifice and talk to her. What would the team do without me?