Soldier of Fortune: Gideon Quinn Adventures Book One

Chapter 46

In the silence following Gideon's revelation, Celia observed the curtains, closed over the bedroom's open window, moving gently. "Are you waiting for something?" she asked, focusing on Gideon. "Applause? A clap of thunder? A tearful confession?"

"I don't doubt you could pull one out. But like I said earlier, I just came for my coat. And maybe some answers," he admitted with a negligent shrug.

"You've done such a fine job of coming up with your own answers. What could I possibly add?"

"How about why you're still active, now the war has ended?"

"Foolish man," she said, watching him. He really was a pleasure to look at. Too bad he'd have to die. "The war hasn't ended. It has simply moved to a different battlefield."

He looked at her, stretched out on the bed. "I'll say. So," he flipped the knife he'd taken from her in his left hand and then used it as a pointer. "To sum up, you, Celia Rand, are in fact the Coalition operative known as Odile."

"You are impressed with yourself, aren't you?" She sat up and crossed her arms over her knees, the better to enjoy the show.

"You are also a sensitive of some flavor or other."

"Empath," she confirmed.

He let out a low whistle which she took to be appreciation. "I can see how that would be a plus for maintaining a cover as deep as yours."

Oh yes, she thought, he definitely has to die.

"Only, and I'm guessing here, when I was released from prison, you got worried. Less about me, because even if I could find out who was behind Nasa, who'd believe a convicted traitor?" He flipped the knife again and started to pace the room. "But still, you worried—probably about how poor old Jessup would react. Maybe he's starting to feel a little bit guilty about killing those six soldiers—sorry, five soldiers." He paused in his perambulations and looked at her. "Turns out your husband failed to murder my lieutenant."

"That's not all he failed at," she said tightly.

"Guess the mourning period is over," he observed, resuming his pacing. "Anyway, you're worried, and being a sensitive, you'd have known you were right to worry. What to do? What to do?" He spun from the hearth and started towards the window. "Why not solve both potential problems at once? Jessup is becoming a liability, and I'm already—"

"Troublesome," she inserted, sliding to the edge of the bed, drawing Gideon's attention back in her direction. "The word you tend to inspire is 'troublesome.'"

"And I'm troublesome," he echoed, pausing in front of her. "So why not take out two dracos with one stone? Send your lackeys out to fetch me, and once they do, you drug me, murder your husband, and leave me to wake up in his blood. How am I doing so far?"

"Impressively accurate. I would pay as much as two starbucks to see you at the Circus."

He gave the slightest bow, though his eyes remained locked on hers.

"So accurate, in fact, I wonder if you've a touch of sensitivity as well?"

"Doubt it."

Despite the casual tone, his eyes darkened with the desire Celia kindled. Encouraged, she prodded him further, psionically stoking the fire of his need as she asked, "And why is that?"

"Sensitives don't do well around live crystal," he told her, his voice pleasingly rough. "Something you'll be finding out, soon enough."

"No." She shook her head once, slowly, "I'm afraid I won't."