Nina
"Compromised?" I mouthed into the comm.
"Yeah." Paul's voice was flat. "I'm picking up suspicious movement. Black Smoke gang might be here, and I think they're going to try to take our witness."
"Noted." I killed the feed and clipped the device off my collar.
"Santiago, are you behind this?" I hissed.
"Put your claws away." He drawled. "I'm here alone, and not for any nefarious reason."
"Why don't I believe that?" I narrowed my eyes at him.
"You clean up nice, Agent Torres." His hand found bare skin on my thigh. His touch and the way his eyes took me in, like I was a buffet, had electricity shooting up my spine.
"What are you doing here?" I spat. "You didn't just happen to wander into Vegas and this exact event. Cut the bullshit."
He chuckled instead of answering. Before I could pull away he spun me, wrapped an arm around my waist, and dragged me deeper into shadow until the party's noise became a muted, distant roar.
"You're being watched, Nina." He breathed.
My heart pounded against my ribs. For a second I felt pinned between the wall and his breadth; prey with a hunter's shadow over her. Fear should have risen. Instead something thick and hot and dangerous hummed under my skin. I hated it.
"Is this where I say thank you?" I arched a brow.
"I'm not holding my breath." He sounded amused. "You've always been ungrateful."
"You still haven't answered the question. Are you following me? Or did you fly to Vegas just to ruin my night?" I snapped. "Don't you have an empire to run, charities to launder, more important things to do?"
"You make me sound important." He lowered his mouth to my neck, warm against my ear. "And yet despite all the things I could be doing, I made time to follow you. You should be flattered."
I forced my voice steady. "Answer me."
"Only if you answer me first," he said.
"What do you want to know?"
"What's going on between you and the brunette?"
My pulse skipped. "The brunette? Paul?" My hand tightened on the pillar behind me. "How long have you been watching me?"
"That's three questions." He sounded smug. "You broke the deal."
"I don't make deals with criminals," I said. "I make arrests."
He smiled in the dark. "Relentless. Is Paul an ex? A fiancé?"
"None of your business."
"You used to be with him." The words were more statement than question.
"I didn't say that."
"He broke your heart."
"As if." I scoffed.
"You broke his."
"You don't get to narrate my life, Santiago." I rolled my eyes. "And again, this isn't your business."
"I'm interested regardless."
"Jealous, Mr. Santiago?" I taunted, my own mouth curving into a smirk.
He hummed softly. "I prefer my women soft and eager. You're...not." His thumb brushed my lip and my mouth betrayed me with a shuddered inhale. "Still, I've never met someone who'd rather shoot me than-" His voice dropped. "-than give me satisfaction."
Heat flooded my face. "That's enough."
A wet, hot swipe across my neck made my knees go slack. He'd licked me.
"Don't tell me Paul didn't-"
"He didn't." My voice was a thin thread.
Santiago went still. He cupped my jaw and tipped my chin so my eyes met his. "Tell me you've been with a man," he ordered, silk-coated.
I opened my mouth to lie and found my breath hitching as his thumb traced my lower lip. The world narrowed to his face, the scent of him, the danger. I should have pushed him off. Instead I obeyed when he murmured, "Close your eyes."
I let my lashes fall.
"Stay here," he breathed.
Something clicked. My lashes flew open to the cold bite of steel at my wrist, the clasp of handcuffs to a metal rail. Rage, humiliation, and the electric ache he'd ignited warred inside me. I'd let a criminal seduce me. I felt like an idiot.
It was the most rookie move ever.
"Call in, Nina." Paul's voice snapped. "I have the witness. We have to leave now, someone's after us."
Santiago plucked the earpiece from my collar. "I'll be taking that too." He slid it into his pocket with the same casualness he used to smile. "No hard feelings."
"Fuck you, Santiago!" I snarled. "When I'm free I'll put a bullet through your head! I can't believe I-"
He moved with practiced speed. One hand ghosted up my thigh, the other-faster than I could follow-snatched my sidearm from its holster. He smiled, cruel and easy, then turned and melted into the ballroom, swallowed by tuxedos and glitter.
Damn him.
Kneeling, I fumbled for the hairpin looped into my chignon-a trick Rosa had taught me the hard way. Fingers shaking, I worked the makeshift pick at the cuff. The rail bit into my hip; the throbbing in my side flared. I breathed through it, found the tiny give, and felt the catch pop.
Five minutes later I was slamming the ballroom doors behind me.
Outside, chaos had already uncoiled. Three masked men ringed Paul and the informant in a narrow lane of shadow. Paul had been quick, fighting, shouting commands, but he was pinned back-to-back with the witness, gun muzzle flashing. The informant's face was pale and frantic; a slick of blood darkened his temple.
And Santiago, slick jacket, and looking cool and unbothered, was already slipping down an alley, his massive frame wrapped in a dark suit blending into the night.
"Paul!" I screamed and surged forward.
"Get the informant away!" he barked without turning. "I'll handle them."
Everything in me split cleanly in two: duty and the thread that led to Santiago. If I grabbed Santiago here and now, we could connect him to the men trying to take our witness. If I helped Paul, the informant would survive the extraction and we might still get him to testify.
I made my choice in a heartbeat.
Cursing under my breath, I went for the alley. I would catch him. I would make that bastard pay, and then I would come back for Paul.