CHAPTER EIGHT #4
Jan gestured at the leather sofa and chairs at the far end of the office, her red nails still on Ian’s bare arm. “Why don’t we sit down? Would you like a drink, Ian?”
He looked at her, then at Sam. “No.”
Jan dropped her hand. She shared a quick look with Nick. Sam wished she could read their minds.
Nick grimaced. “All right, Maclean. Let’s start over.
Jan is right—she usually is. My bad, but then, I’m not a diplomat.
However, I’m sure you understand. I’m just a wee bit nervous over the page being in the wrong hands—and falling into worse hands.
Not to mention I almost lost one of my best agents in that damned stupid car chase yesterday. ”
Ian folded his arms tightly across his chest. “Sam didn’t die.”
Nick smiled pleasantly. “Let’s keep it that way. Because I’m real fond of my little Frisbee-wielding femme fatale. If Sam dies on your watch, you die.”
Ian smiled back at him unpleasantly. “The one thing I don’t want,” he said very softly, “is our Sam dead.”
“Be careful, Maclean. Because the player might get played.”
“I look forward to it.”
Sam stepped between them. “Time out. We’re making a deal, remember?”
“How could I forget?” Nick asked too softly.
Sam lost her temper. “Then do it! Nick, he’s one of the good guys, damn it.”
Nick finally gave her his attention. “No, he’s not.
He could be, but instead, he deals with demons and mutts, the tainted, the corrupt.
He’ll sell the page to anyone, good or evil, as long as the price is right.
And he might even sell it to evil, just to say I gotcha.
Am I right, Maclean?” Nick’s cold blue gaze settled on Ian.
“Yer so right,” Ian said. “In fact, if ye don’t give me the file and destroy all copies while I watch, I will sell it to the first demon who bids on it—with pleasure.”
This was going from bad to worse.
Nick shook his head, his mouth hard and tight. “I knew it. He’s played you for a fool, Sam. He doesn’t need a break. He needs to be broken.”
“Can you try to remember what he’s lived through?” she cried. “He’s already broken!”
Ian whirled. “Shut up,” he told her, livid. “I don’t need your help and I don’t want it.”
She stiffened. Damn it, she thought, really shaken. Her heart actually ached for him. He shouldn’t have this kind of past to hide.
“I thought so. You feel sorry for him,” Nick accused.
Sam tried to block her thoughts from him. “I’m trying to broker a deal here. No easy task, with both of you being hormonally challenged. Maybe we should bleed some testosterone out of you both the way wildlife guys milk rattlesnakes, before this meeting becomes World War IV.”
Nick ignored her. “Okay, Maclean. Here’s the deal. I’ll give you the original file and walk you through the destruction of every copy—after you’ve handed over the page and it’s been authenticated by my people.”
Ian laughed, the sound mocking. He said, low and still flushed, “I’ll consider selling the U.S.
government the page. And as a sign of my good faith, I’ll postpone the auction fer another week, so you can find the cash you’ll need to make a proper bid.
I’ll even discount it. But in return, ye give me the original file now.
When we make a deal, I’ll destroy the copies and then give ye the page. ”
Nick stared. “You know we don’t have the kind of money that Hemmer and his kind have. Our budget is about two cents. And I don’t trust you as far as I can spit.”
Ian shrugged. “I’ll let the page go for twenty-five million, U.S.” he said. “Hemmer paid over two hundred million dollars for it,” he added unnecessarily.
Nick stared angrily at him. “I’ll never get that kind of budget approved.”
“Then yer out.”
“Then you’ll never know what’s in your big fat two-inch-thick file, will you? Give us the page and you can have your file, right now. I’ll destroy the backup myself, as you watch.”
Ian glanced at her briefly and said, “Five million U.S. dollars. And I walk out of here with the file. When I receive the cash, we’ll make the trade.”
Nick said swiftly, “I’ll need to make some phone calls. I don’t have the authority to approve the cash and you’re still out of my budget.”
“Fine. Make yer calls. But I am leaving here today with the file.”
Nick shook his head. “Impossible.”
Nick was playing a delaying game, Sam thought. Once Ian saw his file, he’d realize there were no horrifying details in it, and he wouldn’t care that CDA had it. He would then continue on with his auction. Or would he?
Ian glanced at her, and in spite of his set face, Sam saw the question in his eyes. She tensed.
She wished she could reveal that he didn’t have to worry about his file. He had every right to cover up his horrific past. She wet her lips. “I told you. I haven’t read it.”
He faced Nick. “Are ye tired of driving a Ford, Forrester?”
Nick raised his eyebrows.
“I’ll give ye one hundred thousand cash fer a copy.” Ian smiled.
“Only a hundred thousand? I can’t be bought, Maclean. And I like used cars, by the way. I like Fords. It’s patriotic. I’ve never wanted a Ferrari.”
“All men want Ferraris. Two hundred thousand dollars fer a copy.”
Nick shook his head. “We need the page, Maclean. We need it so the bad guys can’t have the power.”
Sam wanted to tell Nick to give him a damn copy of his file, and that was not professional of her.
“Name yer price,” Ian snarled.
“The page,” Nick said.
Ian laughed at him. “The page is worth hundreds of millions of dollars—to the right demon!” He gave Sam a cold look as if she’d betrayed him somehow, then whirled and slammed from the room.
Sam fought for control. It took a moment.
“That went really well,” she said sarcastically.
But what she wanted to do was to run after Ian and tell him that his secrets were mostly safe.
He’d been desperate for just a copy of his file—he was desperate to know what everyone knew about him.
And she felt for him. What was wrong with her?
Because he was probably going to make a point of selling the page of illusion to evil now.
Nick strode to his window, stared down at Hudson Street and cursed, a long string of mostly unrepeatable epithets.
Jan touched his arm. “I can break him, Nick. Without sleeping with him. He doesn’t have one drop of evil in him. His father is a Master of Time. Let me try.”
Sam went still.
“Go after him,” Nick told Jan tersely. “Do what you think best.”
Sam shook with outrage. She took a deep breath and managed not to change her expression. Jan hurried out, but not before she looked at Sam and said, “This is business.”
“Right,” Sam said. She turned to Nick, trying not to explode.
“What are you, smitten?” he asked. “Maclean has scars that will never heal. And that makes him a renegade.”
Sam shook her head, too angry to speak, and she strode out of his office. Jan was with Ian as he waited for the elevator. He was still flushed. Tension rippled through his body.
Ian jerked away from her when he saw Sam. He strode toward her, his eyes ablaze. “Don’t ever defend me again. I don’t need yer help.”
“Okay,” she said, to placate him.
“I don’t need yer pity, either. The past is the past,” he snarled. “I forgot it long ago.”
Like hell, she thought. “I don’t pity you, Maclean.
And I’m sorry I happen to think you shouldn’t have gone through what you did, but then, I’m human.
But hey, I will mind my own business from now on—except, of course, in regards to the page of illusion, because it’s my fault that you have it and it’s up to me to get it back. ”
Behind them, the elevator door opened. He jerked his collar open, so hard that the fabric ripped. “Then we’re enemies now,” he said.