"I hadn't thought of that."

"Let's just find the bugs and watch what we say until we do."

Jack nodded. "Actually, I have a few errands to run while you're primping. I'll see if I can find us a sweeping device, so we don't miss any."

Topaz frowned at him. "Where would you find something like that in the middle of the night?" He averted his eyes to begin dressing. Or maybe that was just the excuse he wanted to use. "I have no idea."

She had a feeling it was a lie.

What he wanted from her, Jack decided, was forgiveness. Okay, s.e.x would be good, too, but forgiveness was tops. He'd been racking his brain to figure out what had drawn him here to her, made him feel as compelled to help her find her mother's murderer as he would have been to protect one of the Chosen. It wasn't love, certainly. He didn't believe in love. Love was a con man's most powerful tool, but it wasn't real. His reason for being here wasn't physical attraction, either-or at least it wasn't only that. It was something more, and it had been bugging him that he didn't know what.

Now, as he stood in a nearly empty parking garage, waiting for his contact to show up, he thought he'd figured it out. What he was feeling was guilt, plain and simple. And no wonder it had taken him so long to identify it. It wasn't something he'd ever felt before. But he felt it over her. If he'd known that all her life she'd been plagued by people who claimed to love her while coveting her money, he would never have chosen her as a mark.

How to convince her of that was the big question. He was going to give her back the money. He had intended to all along, deep down, and he realized that now. It was why he'd been unable to spend a nickel of it, why he'd carried it with him in cash ever since he'd been with her. So that he could return it intact. But he couldn't just hand her back the money-not yet, or she would realize he'd had it all along, and that wasn't likely to earn him the absolution he needed from her. Besides, if she got the money back now, she might send him packing, and he didn't want that to happen, either. Not while she could be in danger.

His feelings about Topaz were enough to drive him insane. Trying to figure them out and understand them was even worse.

Headlights cut into his thoughts, and he ducked back into the shadows and waited. The Lincoln stopped, and CIA Special Agent Frank Magnarelli got out, leaving his door open. His patent leather shoes tapped on the concrete floor, then stopped. It was Jack's first face-to-face contact with the agent in charge of tracking down and capturing Reaper-former agent Raphael Rivera, that was. Up to now, they'd only talked by phone. Magnarelli had a face like rough pavement, a graying brush cut and a scar on his chin. He lit a cigarette, took three consecutive puffs, then dropped it and crushed it under his heel.

Nodding at the agreed-upon signal, Jack stepped out into the light.

"What have you got for me?" Magnarelli asked.

Jack looked him up and down. He was a tall, well-built man with ice-cold eyes and an att.i.tude to match. "Depends. What have you got for me?"

"I gave you everything we had on the DuFrane case already."

"Don't even think I'm naive enough to believe that. I know you have more. And I'll get to all of it eventually. But for right now, I want to know who fathered DuFrane's little girl. Tanya, wasn't it?"

Those cold gray eyes darkened with suspicion. "Why are you so into this s.h.i.t, Heart?"

Jack only shrugged, but Magnarelli lifted his brows. "You're helping her, aren't you? That tabloid bit about her being back from the dead to seek vengeance is the truth. Is Tanya DuFrane a...one of you?"

"That's not the information we agreed to trade. And it's none of your business. Find out who fathered her, and I'll tell you what I have for you."

"Well, s.h.i.t, it's not like I know off the top of my head. I'll find out, a.s.suming it's even possible."

"You're the CIA. Anything's possible. But I'll settle for your promise to look into it, and a small parting gift." Magnarelli shifted his feet, looking frustrated. "I'll look into it."

"And the gift?" Jack asked.

"Quit playing games, Heart, and just tell me what kind of gift you have in mind."

Jack grinned. Magnarelli was afraid he was going to demand a little sip from his veins. He didn't know that by reading the agent's mind-this particular CIA operative was a master at blocking his thoughts. Jack had discovered that in the time he'd been talking with the man. That was probably why they sent him when it came to dealing with the undead. But it didn't take mind reading to know what the fellow was thinking. Jack just loved messing with the guy.

"I need a sweeping device," he said at length.

Magnarelli's brows, steel-gray like his hair and eyes, arched, forming deep creases in his forehead. "Why?"

"Again, none of your business. You have one on you?"

Magnarelli sighed and lowered his head briefly. Then he turned, aimed his key ring at the Lincoln and started toward it. The trunk opened, and he leaned in and rummaged around. A moment later he came back with the device, handed it to Jack and quickly explained how to use it.

"Perfect," Jack said. "Thank you."

"Thank me by giving me something in return. Something I can use this time, Jack. That first bit, about Rivera heading north from Savannah was almost useless. By the time we got to the location you gave us, he'd been gone a day and a half already."

Jack shrugged. "I'm doing the best I can. Maybe this one will pan out for you." He tried to inject sincerity into his tone but wasn't sure he was successful. He dipped into his jeans pocket and extracted a slip of paper. "I know for a fact he was here."

Magnarelli glanced at the note. "Virginia Beach, huh? And you say he was there. How long ago?" He was still squinting at the paper in the dim glow of the parking garage, as if it might have more to tell him if he just looked closely enough.

"As recently as twenty-four hours," Jack said. "It's the best I can do."

"The best you could do, Heart, would have been to give it to me twenty-four hours ago. When you got it."

"I didn't get it until tonight," Jack lied. "And I couldn't get away sooner without arousing suspicion." He tried again to look sincere. "Look, I'm doing the best I can here. And you're getting information you wouldn't have had otherwise, so I don't see why you should be complaining." He shook his head, turning away in manufactured frustration and taking long strides toward his car. "f.u.c.k this. I'm working my a.s.s off here, but it's never good enough for you a.s.sholes. I'm outta here. Find yourself another- ".

"Hold on, hold on now." Magnarelli's shoes came tapping after him. Everything about him had changed: his tone, his walk. Even the granite face seemed to have softened. All phony as h.e.l.l, Jack knew, but so was every word that pa.s.sed between the two of them. "This intel is fine," the agent said, like he was talking to a ten-year-old who'd just failed a spelling test. "I just wish it was fresher, but it's good. You keep it up, okay?"

Jack stopped walking, his lips curving into a slow smile, which he doused before he turned. "I really am doing my best here, Frank."

"I know you are. In fact, here." The agent tugged an envelope from his inside coat pocket. "A little bonus. You call me when you have anything else-the minute you have anything else, if it's humanly, er, if it's possible."

"You have my word on it," Jack said. And he didn't even cross his fingers behind his back. Conning the CIA was the biggest game he'd ever run. And probably the most risky, because they were the best con men on the planet themselves. Then again, he'd always loved a challenge.

"Well, that didn't take long," Topaz said when Jack returned to the house. She wished it had taken just a bit longer. She was still in a satin bathrobe, with a towel on her head.

"I told you it wouldn't." He tugged the sweeping device from his pocket and held it up, carefully cupping it in his hand to block it from any video cameras, since they were undoubtedly working just fine. The thing was, a vampire's image wouldn't show up on tape, but the device might, unless he kept all its bits in direct contact with himself. "And I got what we needed."

"You know how to use it?"

"It came with a free demonstration. Why don't you finish getting ready and I'll, uh...sweep up."

She nodded, turned to head for the stairs, then paused and faced him again. "Are you going to tell me what your mysterious errands entailed?"

"No."

The bluntness of his answer made her blink in surprise. And then it made her wonder. "Are you seducing some wealthy, needy woman out of her life's savings, Jack?"

He frowned and leaned slightly forward, as if trying to see her more closely. "Is that a hint of jealousy I detect, Topaz?"

"In your dreams. I just can't bear the thought of some other woman going through what I did."

He moved closer, lifting his hands as if to stroke them down her outer arms, but then he paused, obviously remembering their deal.

Instead of touching her, he looked directly into her eyes and said, "It's not another woman."

She hated the relief that surged through her with so much force that it left her knees weak. Hated it. But couldn't deny it.

"You're not going to tell me what it is, are you?"

"No."

"Is it legal?"

"Utterly."

When he said that, the dimple in his chin appeared, along with the twinkle in his eye that had melted her heart so many times. She wanted to throw herself into his arms with everything in her, as he held her gaze steadily and his smile slowly died. Some unseen force crackled between them. She felt herself leaning toward him, being pulled, and it startled her so much that she turned and bolted up the stairs, down the hall and into the master suite. She surged through it into the bathroom and closed the door hard, as if shutting out Lucifer himself.

And then she leaned over the sink, hands braced, and stared into the mirror, wishing she could search her own eyes in its reflection. But she couldn't. "What's the matter with me? Why am I still so drawn to him, when I know he's the worst possible choice for me? Why, when he's the biggest mistake I ever made? Am I stupid?"

The answer to that, she decided, was a resounding no. She wasn't stupid. She was broken. She'd never known any kind of love in her life, except the false, using kind. And so, naturally, that was what she attracted and was attracted to. The same kind of bulls.h.i.t she'd always known. Even as a vampire, she was repeating the same cycles that had been ingrained in her since childhood. She needed to break those cycles.

And she'd better hurry the h.e.l.l up, she thought.

When she returned downstairs, looking drop-dead gorgeous in her own not-so-humble opinion, Jack was waiting at the foot of the staircase, holding a handful of tiny electronic thingies in his palm.

Topaz blinked down at them. "Are they...?"

"Completely disabled. I decided we were better off just pulling them. Figured I can always tell our landlord to forget he ever planted them. I got them all, checked three times just to make sure. The only room left to go through is your bathroom. I thought I'd better wait until you came out to do that."

"Being that the alternative would have been pretty painful for you, Jack, I think that was a wise decision."

"Sure." He took the first two steps up, then glanced over his shoulder at her. "You look incredible, by the way. Do we have plans that I don't know about?"

"No."

"No? So that's all just for me, huh?"

"You wish." She smoothed a hand over the skirt of her black halter dress and wished his compliment didn't make her feel warm all over.

He shrugged and continued up the stairs. He was back minutes later, declaring her bathroom "clean."

Then they got into the car to head to the home of former State Senator Frederick Ramirez.

"I don't believe he's expecting you." The man who answered the door was more bodyguard than butler, but Jack wasn't concerned.

"No, that's true, he's not," Topaz said. "Would you please tell him that Mirabella's daughter is here and wants to speak to him?"

The man frowned, but gave a nod. "Wait here." And he left them standing outside, on the wide concrete steps of the impressive home.

"Friendly fellow, isn't he?" Jack glanced down at Topaz, noting the tension in her jaw. And the way her hair was as smooth as mink, hanging loose and s.e.xy around her shoulders. "Relax. It'll be fine."

"Who said I wasn't relaxed?"

"I did." Then he glanced at the closed door. "He's coming back. The senator will see us."

"I just hope he's as easy to read as his man Friday."

The door opened, and the butler/bodyguard stepped aside. "He'll see you. Follow me."

The place was shamelessly opulent and colder than ice. They moved through a foyer, then turned to traverse a long hall, every footstep echoing. At the end, a pair of double doors stood open, leading into a book-lined office that smelled of leather and aging volumes. Their escort stopped outside the doors and waved them in.Jack could feel Topaz's tension build as they walked through those doors. The senator stood near a large fireplace, his eyes on Topaz as she entered. Then he plastered a warm and mostly-sincere smile on his face, and came toward them, reaching out his hands.

He clasped hers in both of his. "Tanya. My G.o.d, I thought you were dead."

"Everyone did."

He held on to her hand as his eyes roamed her face. "You look so much like your mother."

"Thank you."

"It must be cold outside. Your hands are freezing." He was still clinging to her hands, and Jack was getting a bit hot under the collar about it. Not that he had any reason to be. The guy could be her father, after all. But if he wasn't, then he'd d.a.m.n well better let go, and soon.

As if on cue, Ramirez did, turning toward a sofa and several chairs that formed a half circle around the fireplace. "Sit, please. Be comfortable. Can I have Rodney get you anything? Wine, tea, coffee?"

"No, thank you," Topaz said.

"We never drink...wine," Jack quipped. Topaz elbowed him in the rib cage, but discreetly, as they both sat down on the brown leather sofa.

The senator glanced at the door. "That's all for now, Rodney."

Nodding, the man-at-arms pulled the doors closed and left them alone. The senator glanced at Jack. "I'm sorry, I seem to have forgotten my manners. I'm Frederick Ramirez."

"Jack Heart," Jack said, extending a hand to shake his.

"Tell me, what brings you here?" the senator asked, turning his attention back to Topaz.

"Well, two things really. I'm curious as to who my birth father truly is. And I'm even more curious to learn who murdered my mother."

Ramirez was silent for a moment, thoughtful. Then he said, "And I imagine you consider me a suspect on both counts."

"I just wanted to talk to you about it," Topaz said. "I'm not accusing you of anything."

He sighed and nodded.

"You must have thought you could have fathered me. You tried to gain custody after my mother's death."

"I did. Because I cared for her." The older man drew a deep breath and met her eyes. "The truth is, Tanya, I knew I couldn't have been your birth father, because I was, am, sterile. I wanted to raise you anyway, out of love for your mother. And I hoped the courts would never know about my deception. But they found out."

"Really?" Jack asked. "Because I didn't see any note of that in any of the court doc.u.ments."