disappeared into the bathroom, but he left the door cracked.
Annabella retrieved her messages. She had one strange hang-up—Adam, most likely—and, sure enough, a call from her mom. Annabella called her, soothed her worries—no mad dogs tonight, lied about an impromptu date with a cute guy, and finished with a “can’t talk now,” heavy with meaning. Her mom was so happy she was on a date that she agreed to hang up on the provision she’d get details later. That conversation would be interesting.
Annabella ended the call, done and done, then reconsidered and dialed her own number. The call went straight to voice mail. “I am out with a slightly imbalanced man named Custo, who…uh…might be a wraith. He is tall, about six three, well built, with green eyes and dark blond hair. He has taken me back to a place owned by The Segue Institute, whatever that is. He had the codes to get in anyway. It’s on the ground floor of a brick building near West Thirty-sixth and Fifth. Oh, and he placed a call to a man named Adam from my mobile phone. If I should disappear or wind up dead, start there.”
“Smart girl,” Custo said from the bathroom doorway. “Next time, get a building number, even if it’s next door or across the street. Or any identifying marker of some kind.”
“Well, you can’t blame me for playing it safe.” She pocketed her phone and stepped back, hitting the desk with her thighs. Uh…Wow. Custo in ugly, too-small clothes was good-looking. Custo in a form-fitting, long-sleeve black tee, each ripple of his body hugged by the soft cloth, was devastating. And she knew good bodies. He wore black fatigues, but she couldn’t help imagining him in ballet tights. She almost laughed: This man? In tights? Wouldn’t happen in a million years.
“I wasn’t blaming you, I was commending you. I like that you can think on your feet. I like that you had the foresight to get that flashlight. Must be awkward to lug around. I assume you have extra batteries?”
She tilted up her chin. “In my bag.”
He grinned at her, and she stopped thinking altogether. The smile finally reached his eyes, brightening them with humor. A superscary wolf was stalking her, and this man was happy?
“Everything is going to be fine now. I’d tell you to go ahead and bed down, but Adam will be here shortly. Good thing he was in New York. He could have easily been back in West Virginia…” Custo’s smile faltered. “…unless they abandoned that facility after the attack.”
“What facility? Who is Adam?”
“Adam Thorne. He runs The Segue Institute. It’s a research facility whose chief focus is the growing wraith population, though it occasionally extends to include other paranormal phenomena as well.”
“Wraiths again.” And paranormal phenomena. The guy was loco, but then again she was seeing imaginary wolves, so she couldn’t exactly point any fingers.
“Predators that look like you and me,” Custo explained. “But inhumanly strong and immortal. They feed on the souls of their human prey. I’ve been working with Adam to control their spread for…over six years.”
Sounded to her from Custo’s call that his employment was in question. She bit her tongue on that one. She didn’t seem to have very many options. “This Adam will look into my wolf?”
“Yes. Absolutely.”
“Tonight?”
“We’ll do what we can tonight. Segue has a significant intelligence operation, we should be able—”
Custo tilted his head, as if listening. Then he moved in a blur, grabbed her arm—the flashlight had her wrist twisting painfully—and pulled her behind him. “It’s going to be fine,” he said too calmly.
“Where is it?” Annabella’s heart jumped. She grabbed his waist to steady herself and peeked around his trunk, flashlight on, searching for the hulk of the wolf.
She couldn’t see anything but crates.
“Hold your fire. I am unarmed,” Custo yelled, “and I have an innocent woman here.”
So not
Annabella retrieved her messages. She had one strange hang-up—Adam, most likely—and, sure enough, a call from her mom. Annabella called her, soothed her worries—no mad dogs tonight, lied about an impromptu date with a cute guy, and finished with a “can’t talk now,” heavy with meaning. Her mom was so happy she was on a date that she agreed to hang up on the provision she’d get details later. That conversation would be interesting.
Annabella ended the call, done and done, then reconsidered and dialed her own number. The call went straight to voice mail. “I am out with a slightly imbalanced man named Custo, who…uh…might be a wraith. He is tall, about six three, well built, with green eyes and dark blond hair. He has taken me back to a place owned by The Segue Institute, whatever that is. He had the codes to get in anyway. It’s on the ground floor of a brick building near West Thirty-sixth and Fifth. Oh, and he placed a call to a man named Adam from my mobile phone. If I should disappear or wind up dead, start there.”
“Smart girl,” Custo said from the bathroom doorway. “Next time, get a building number, even if it’s next door or across the street. Or any identifying marker of some kind.”
“Well, you can’t blame me for playing it safe.” She pocketed her phone and stepped back, hitting the desk with her thighs. Uh…Wow. Custo in ugly, too-small clothes was good-looking. Custo in a form-fitting, long-sleeve black tee, each ripple of his body hugged by the soft cloth, was devastating. And she knew good bodies. He wore black fatigues, but she couldn’t help imagining him in ballet tights. She almost laughed: This man? In tights? Wouldn’t happen in a million years.
“I wasn’t blaming you, I was commending you. I like that you can think on your feet. I like that you had the foresight to get that flashlight. Must be awkward to lug around. I assume you have extra batteries?”
She tilted up her chin. “In my bag.”
He grinned at her, and she stopped thinking altogether. The smile finally reached his eyes, brightening them with humor. A superscary wolf was stalking her, and this man was happy?
“Everything is going to be fine now. I’d tell you to go ahead and bed down, but Adam will be here shortly. Good thing he was in New York. He could have easily been back in West Virginia…” Custo’s smile faltered. “…unless they abandoned that facility after the attack.”
“What facility? Who is Adam?”
“Adam Thorne. He runs The Segue Institute. It’s a research facility whose chief focus is the growing wraith population, though it occasionally extends to include other paranormal phenomena as well.”
“Wraiths again.” And paranormal phenomena. The guy was loco, but then again she was seeing imaginary wolves, so she couldn’t exactly point any fingers.
“Predators that look like you and me,” Custo explained. “But inhumanly strong and immortal. They feed on the souls of their human prey. I’ve been working with Adam to control their spread for…over six years.”
Sounded to her from Custo’s call that his employment was in question. She bit her tongue on that one. She didn’t seem to have very many options. “This Adam will look into my wolf?”
“Yes. Absolutely.”
“Tonight?”
“We’ll do what we can tonight. Segue has a significant intelligence operation, we should be able—”
Custo tilted his head, as if listening. Then he moved in a blur, grabbed her arm—the flashlight had her wrist twisting painfully—and pulled her behind him. “It’s going to be fine,” he said too calmly.
“Where is it?” Annabella’s heart jumped. She grabbed his waist to steady herself and peeked around his trunk, flashlight on, searching for the hulk of the wolf.
She couldn’t see anything but crates.
“Hold your fire. I am unarmed,” Custo yelled, “and I have an innocent woman here.”
So not
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