it seemed like he was taking her seriously.
“There were three of them at the gala tonight,” she said. “Their code names were Prometheus, Pandora and Jason. I guess Pandora pepper-sprayed me. I never saw Jason, but apparently he’s young, tall and thin. Like I told you, Samantha saw some online chatter about them scoping out a potential target at this gala and I went in undercover to see if I spotted anything fishy or could identify any members of the team. Something we could pass to police to help our current clients or even help us be on the lookout for the future. I have no idea why they’d set the coatroom on fire, unless it’s to keep someone from discovering what they’ve stolen or rifled through. We have no idea who their target is or what they’re attempting to steal. It could be something professional or intensely personal.”
There was another long pause. Again, she couldn’t shake the idea that he knew something he wasn’t telling her. This time she waited Leo out. Finally he said, “How do they usually warn their targets?”
“What?” She nearly slipped off his toes and into the water. “They don’t warn them. At least, I’ve never heard of anyone from The Anemoi warning anyone. Why?”
She waited again. But this time Leo didn’t answer.
“Leo?” Her tone grew sharper. “What do you know that I don’t?”
“Don’t worry about it. I saw a thin man—could be Jason—defacing a poster in the ballroom. But it might not mean anything.”
He was talking like it was no big deal, but that didn’t explain why his voice sounded both angry and strangled.
“Do you think you know who the target was?” she asked. No answer. A chill ran down her spine. “Could it be you? Do you have something worth stealing?”
“No, I don’t,” he said.
Why didn’t she believe him? Voices were clamoring above them now. People were running toward them.
“We’ve got some survivors over here!” a male voice bellowed above her. “Can someone grab us a rope?”
She looked up and was blinded by the glare of flashlights. Leo pulled her against the rock.
“I’m going to hoist you up,” he said. “You should be able to climb up from there. It’s not that far.”
Light fell from above, highlighting the lines of his chiseled jaw and the strength that lay beneath his wet dress shirt. But it was the depth of the worry pooling in his eyes that made her heart stop beating.
“What’s wrong?” Her hand brushed his jaw. “Tell me. Do you have any reason to believe you’re The Anemoi’s target? Is there anything you have that someone would think shouldn’t belong to you?”
To her surprise, he hugged her quickly with the shared relief of two people who’d been through trauma together. She hugged him back.
“Don’t worry about me.” Leo’s voice was a deep, gruff whisper in her ear. “I don’t have anything worth stealing, and definitely nothing that a vigilante would argue doesn’t belong to me. Thank you for everything.”
He hoisted her up. Other hands were reaching down for her. She stepped up onto Leo’s shoulder and grabbed onto one of the outstretched hands. A police officer pulled her up onto the ledge.
“Are you alright, miss?” a paramedic asked. There was a light in her still sensitive eyes. He took her arm and started leading her toward a bank of ambulances.
“I’m fine, thank you.” She pulled away.
The paramedic let her go without an argument. She wasn’t surprised considering the scene. Firefighters and emergency service personnel were trying to corral people, put out the fire and check for injuries. Party guests rambled around the gardens, ignoring orders and trying to take pictures on their phones.
She’d learned as a teenager that whenever there was a spectacle there’d be two different types of people running around. There were those who watched the show and those who kept people safe. Back then she’d been the spectacle, the fire, the flashy and fierce marital arts and gymnastics competitor who people cheered for loudly when she won and booed at when it all came to an end. But she’d known, even then, what kind of person she wanted to be. She wanted to be the one who protected people and rescued them from the metaphorical flames.
The crowd parted and she saw Leo hauling himself over the ledge. He stood on the edge of the rocks, with the fire to his right, the darkness to his left and the river swirling behind him. Her breath caught in her throat. He was rugged, strong and dashing in a way she’d thought only movie stars could be. Yet as his eyes scanned the crowd, something deep inside his gaze almost looked wounded, too.
Lord, protect him and help him. I don’t know what he wasn’t telling me or why he brushed off my questions. Or why my gut’s telling me that he was The Anemoi’s intended target.
The Anemoi had gotten its name from a group of deadly winds, and somehow the castle fire felt like the first rumble of thunder that warned of an approaching storm. Something big was coming. Something devastating and dangerous. And she just couldn’t shake the feeling that Leo Darius was going to be right in the center of that storm.
People pushed past her. Voices babbled around her, fading into white noise. Still her eyes were locked on Leo’s form. He’d come for her. He’d carried her in his arms. He’d leaped through the air to save them both. She’d trusted him with the truth about her job at Ash Private Security and about The Anemoi. But he hadn’t trusted her in return.
“Excuse me! Ma’am.” The Irish voice was smooth behind her and his hand touched her shoulder so suddenly she nearly jumped out of her skin. She flinched, her whole body pulling away as she turned. It was him, Killian, the same creep who used to skulk around the edges of martial arts competitions hitting on the female competitors, until one day, when he’d snuck up behind her, she’d wielded around and elbowed him in the face on live television, ending her competitive career. “Are you the woman who Commander Darius rescued from the fire?”
She nearly choked. He didn’t recognize her. She didn’t know if it was just because of the odd way the combination of the night, the flames and emergency beams played tricks with light and shadows. Or if it was because of how disheveled she was from the fire and the lake.
But she couldn’t shake the thought that maybe he’d actually forgotten her. That despite everything she’d lost by elbowing him in the face, she’d been nothing but an insignificant and forgettable blip in his life.
Even though she’d never forgotten his face.
“No comment.” Zoe didn’t meet his eye and turned away, hoping not to jog his memory.
“No comment?” he pressed. “How can you have no comment? Either you’re the woman he rescued or you’re not.”
“Sorry, I’ve got to go.” She persisted through the crowd, searching the sea of emergency vehicles for the plain black Ash Security van.
Killian kept following her. She could hear his voice as sharp and direct as arrows shooting after her. “At least, tell me your name. Who are you?”
“I’m nobody.” She disappeared into the crowd. She was nobody now. She liked it that way. One brief intense encounter in
