Wanted by J. Kenner Page A

stroked me like a strong, firm hand, and I felt my body heat in memory of his touch. His eyes flicked to Kevin. “Agent Warner.”
    “Nice speech,” Kevin said. He held his hand out to shake. “You’re an articulate man.”
    “It pays to be able to persuade people in my line of work,” Evan said.
    For a moment, I thought he was going to ignore Kevin’s outstretched hand. Then he reached out—and as he did, I saw the raw, red knuckles. I couldn’t believe I hadn’t noticed them before, and I had to blame my lack of attention on the dark. And on the fact that I’d been somewhat preoccupied by his general proximity, his touch, and my raging hormones.
    “Evan! What happened?”
    “Street fighting, Mr. Black?” Kevin said, in what must have been a joke but just sounded rude to me.
    “If I was,” Evan said smoothly, “the other guy must be pretty fucked up.” He held the hand up for inspection. “I’d say I got off easy.”
    For a moment, the two just stared at each other, a sticky, uncomfortable tension filling the space between them. Forget the War of the Roses, that historic battle was nothing compared to this War of the Alphas, and I had a sick feeling that I was the root of the trouble.
    “It’s hardly a joke,” I snapped. “Seriously, Evan, you should clean that up. And for Christ’s sake, Kevin. Could you be any more of a jerk?”
    He angled a glance at me. “Sorry.”
    “It’s fine,” Evan said. “Really. I was helping a friend with her car. My hand slipped, and the engine was still pretty hot. It wasn’t pleasant, but I’ll survive.”
    “You should be more careful,” Kevin said.
    “I’m always careful,” Evan countered smoothly. “But sometimes shit happens.”
    He was right. Jahn’s death was about as shitty as it got.
    For a moment, the silence hung awkwardly between the three of us. Then Kevin hooked his arm around my shoulder. “She’s had a hell of a day. We’re going to get out of here.”
    I waited for Evan to say goodbye, some tiny part of me hoping that he’d step in and insist I stay in the condo, because how could he just let me leave with Kevin? But he only stood there. There was no sign—no hint—of the man who’d evoked such sensuality on the patio. The man whose voice had told me to fly and whose touch had burst through me with at least as much color and flare as tonight’s fireworks.
    I was too tired and too slashed to try to understand it or even to think about it. All I felt was sad.
    “Will you tell Tyler and Cole goodbye for me?”
    “Sure,” he said, and though his voice was more gentle than I’d expected, I noticed that he didn’t say that he’d talk to me soon or that I’d be seeing the guys in a day or so. Once again I was struck by the awful reality: Everything had changed. Jahn had been our intersection point, and now that he was gone, I felt adrift.
    I grabbed Kevin’s hand and hurried out of the condo before the tears I’d been fighting all night began to flow.
    As soon as we were on the elevator, Kevin repeatedly jabbed his finger on the lobby button as if he couldn’t get out of there quickly enough. “At least that’s one good thing that will come of your uncle’s death,” he said darkly.
    “Excuse me?”
    “I just mean that you won’t be seeing those three anymore.”
    “What the hell?” My voice lashed out like a whip, but I didn’t care. As far as I was concerned, there was nothing— nothing —good that could come out of Jahn’s death, and that most especially included losing three men I counted as friends.
    “I’m sorry,” he said simply.
    “Good. You should be. Now tell me why you’d say something like that.”
    “Dammit, Angie, I can’t. I shouldn’t have said anything in the first place.”
    “No, you shouldn’t have. But you did. And now you’re going to explain.”
    “Angie …” He trailed off, his voice firm.
    I crossed my arms over my chest. No way was he getting off the hook that easily. “Is