Master of No One Read online

  Grudgingly, Kirk admitted that the other male was right. He could only see bad things coming out of the public’s discovery of chimera living among them. The potential loss of life could be high.

  “Fine. I won’t say anything. For now. Tell me about this chimera I’m supposed to ‘ground.’”

  “He is unique. He is our poisoner.”

  “As in he poisons people? That’s his job?” When Domenic only gazed back calmly, Kirk sighed. “Great. He’s a murderer.”

  “Only a murderer in the sense that your doctors who oversee capital punishment are murderers, or your veterinarians who put down unhealthy animals are murderers. He takes care of changed chimera who can no longer control themselves, keeping the rest of us—as well as the human population—safe.” Domenic brightened. “He’s much like you.”

  “Hardly.”

  “As I said, save your judgment until you meet him. Speaking of which, your flight to Portugal leaves tonight. You should get your affairs settled.”

  “Portugal…” Kirk had always wanted to travel, but not so he could be the slave of a monster. “How am I going to do this?” he muttered as he stabbed a hand through his own black hair.

  Domenic answered. “Because you love your brother. Because, unlike him, you understand that this is a matter of honor.”

  “Honor among monsters?” he asked scornfully.

  A silver thread of anger dashed through the chimera’s eyes. “Call us what you need to in order to maintain the illusion that you’re the most advanced civilization on this planet. Chimera are ancient and more powerful than you could possibly comprehend. I understand how that knowledge can be traumatizing.” Domenic relaxed and actually smirked, the bastard. “You’re afraid. It’s all right to be afraid, Mr. Sullivan. But you’d be wiser to let your new chimera master see it. He’ll be able to put it to good use.”

  Anger stabbed Kirk in the gut. He wished he could commit hara-kiri with it, but immediately banished the thought. He’d never run from anything in his life, and he’d be damned if he ran from this obligation, even if it did involve crawling around on his knees for a chimera murderer.

  “He knows I’m coming?” he asked, not sure he cared either way.

  “No,” Domenic said almost cheerfully. “And he won’t be happy about it. But this is Council edict, and he, like you, will obey it.”

  Obey. The word rankled, but Kirk was careful to hide it. He’d be doing that a lot in the near future, he thought dispiritedly, both obeying and hiding the fact that he hated it.

  “Not afraid he’ll try to poison you in retaliation?” Kirk asked.

  “He wouldn’t. That would be wasteful. Aleksander is particular about how he uses his talents…and on whom.” A warning touched Domenic’s voice. “I don’t like you, Mr. Sullivan.”

  Kirk stiffened. “The feeling’s mutual.”

  “However, I respect that you are going through with this solely for the sake of family. In light of that, I’d like to give you a word of advice. Whatever you do, do not give Aleksander Sopov a reason to hate you. That would be a very bad thing. He has, over the decades, poisoned every chimera close to him. And by poisoned, I mean murdered. He is not a nice…creature.”

  Kirk bared his teeth. “It’s a good thing I’m so sweet, then. I’ll butter him up.”

  Domenic actually laughed. He clapped a hand on Kirk’s shoulder, the grip unnervingly powerful for someone built as slightly as he. “Thank you for that, Mr. Sullivan. I think I’m actually rooting for you.”

  Kirk snorted. “With a cheerleader like you, how can I possibly fail?”

  ~~~~~

  His apartment was in Brooklyn, and it was a shithole. But it wasn’t any worse than other shitholes in New York, and maybe it was a tad better, on account of the landlady who was grateful for having a police officer in the building. She made sure the maintenance man actually did the work Kirk requested he do.

  So the AC made an admirable effort to cool him down once he let himself inside, but although it evaporated the summer sweat from Kirk’s skin, it couldn’t cool his mood.

  After accepting his plane ticket from Domenic, Kirk had gone straight to the precinct to speak to his boss. He’d been granted the leave of absence—issued for medical reasons, which had made Kirk see red—but his boss had made a point of commiserating over the ending of Kirk’s career on the streets.

  Pity was the last thing he needed. He’d doused himself in too much of it already. He was sure that no one loved being a cop as much as he did. That intense need to protect was a Sullivan trait, and Leo shared it just as strongly. Yes, paperwork was a necessary evil of bringing down the bad guys, but Kirk was a hands-on guy. He needed to see the faces of the people he protected. He didn’t need their thanks, and actually preferred that he was never recognized for merely doing his duty, but he needed to see for himself that his efforts were making a difference in their lives.

  Knowing he would never again be checking in at the mom-and-pop grocery stores and the retail establishments that made up his neighborhood had been devastating. Being pitied for his reduced effectiveness was only fuel on the bonfire of his frustration.

  He yanked a duffel bag from the closet and began dumping the contents of his dresser drawers out on his bed. He didn’t have much, but it felt good to punch each garment into the duffel, taking out his aggression that way. By the time he’d tossed his toiletries inside along with the new, presumably fake, passport that Domenic had issued him, he was done packing and surveyed his apartment.

  It hadn’t really struck him until that moment what a bare-bones existence he’d led here. His life was the job. He dated on occasion, but nothing ever became serious. Leo was his only family, and even before he vanished, he’d visited Kirk only once or twice a year. The truth was they were naturally lone wolves. The distance was too great to overcome. They were both busy with their careers. They were guys—whatever the reason they gave themselves that week.

  Moving in with Aleksander would take some getting used to, but Kirk didn’t worry about it. People tended to warm up to him quickly. But even if this chimera was the exception, Kirk knew he’d only have to suffer his company for four months. Then he could come back to his empty apartment and his desk job.

  The thought was so depressing he had to shut his eyes in a rare moment of despair.

  The next moment he was out the door, taking the stairs two at a time. Mrs. Henderson opened the door before he could knock. He suspected she watched through the spyhole as soon as she heard Kirk’s steps on the stairs, hoping he would visit with her. She was eighty-seven, a widower of a fire captain, and knew more about baseball team rosters than he did. He would miss her.

  “Here.” He handed her a check. “This will cover the next four months, Mrs. Henderson. Don’t let any Playboy bunnies rent out my place in the meantime. Not without installing cameras with video playback first.”

  She giggled and wagged her finger at him. “Officer Sullivan, you are a naughty man.”

  He grinned. “I’ll be back before you know it.”

  “Unless you meet a special someone, hmm?” She was always trying to set him up with women around the neighborhood. He was flattered, but none of the dates had panned out, convincing him that Mrs. Henderson had no idea what his type was. “If you do find a nice girl, don’t come back on my account. Build a house for her in Tahiti. I hear it’s lovely there. Lots of coconuts.”

  He laughed. “You just want an excuse to fly out there and meet a strapping young Tahitian surfer.”

  Her cheeks pinked. “Well, I do have a thing for men with dark hair…”

  Kirk would miss Mrs. Henderson. Maybe, he realized sadly, she would be the only thing he missed from his life here.

  “Officer Sullivan…this is a good trip you’re taking, isn’t it?”

  He cursed himself for letting his thoughts show on his face. “Of course it is. My first time going to Portugal. How neat is that? And I’ve got a friend there who’ll show me all around.
” Assuming he doesn’t poison me first.

  She nodded, but she still looked unconvinced. “You’re a good man, Officer Sullivan. I’m sorry if I pry into your affairs too often. I just…I want good things for you. You’re a man like my Howard. Not necessarily old-fashioned but…respectful. The last of the good ones.”

  He cupped her cheek. Her skin was as soft and thin as silk. “Your Howard was a lucky man. I hope I find a woman like you. But if we’re moving to Tahiti, I hope she isn’t attracted to surfers.”

  Chapter 2

  T he pounding against the walls was a warning, like the footsteps of the monsters in her nightmares as they climbed the stairs to her bedroom. This time, just like all the other times, Constance heeded it.

  She swiftly left the south end of the home and began her cleaning in the comparatively safer north end. She squirted Windex on the double glass doors overlooking the Bay of Funchal and gazed at the blue expanse with its hovering ceiling of clouds as she wiped. They were high in the hills of Monte, on the island of Madeira. The island was famous for its eponymous port wine and for sled toboggan rides that tourists rode down curving streets to the lowlands. Neither was the reason Aleksander Sopov had chosen to live here. He lived here because no other chimera did. Those who lived in Portugal remained on the mainland. Outside of business, Aleksander associated with no one. If he could, Constance was sure he would have opted to live inside a cave at the bottom of the ocean. Alone. Forever. For anyone else she would have felt pity, but Aleksander would kill her if she dared.

  More thumps. A low, guttural growl that no human throat could have produced.

  The hairs rose on the back of her neck, making her consider pulling the pins from her hair and letting it hang straight. Aleksander wouldn’t call it unprofessional of her. He wouldn’t notice the change at all. That had been the problem, hadn’t it? For thirteen months now, she had made no impression on him, good or bad. She was, most days, completely, utterly invisible to him.

  She glanced down the long hallway at the shut door of his workroom. A shudder ran through her body, bone deep. Probably she should check on him…but she wouldn’t.

  After finishing the windows, she tidied up a living room that was already immaculate. Mostly she dusted and fluffed pillows, rearranged magazines on the coffee table, continuing the fiction that someday Aleksander might sit here and read one, maybe enjoy a cup of tea, spare her a few words.

  She scowled at the fantasy, if that was what you wanted to call it, and thought about vacuuming. With neither of them leaving the house and tracking anything back in, what was the point? For a moment she felt lost, standing within the perfectly clean living room. A year of her life, and all she had to show for it was a home that could be featured in an interior decorating magazine. Like Aleksander, she socialized with no one, because no one knew she was here. Also because, in the end, she was here for one and one reason only.

  A reason that became more obsolete with each day that he continued to ignore her.

  When the doorbell rang, it was a relief to focus on something besides herself.

  The guest at the door surprised her. He was one of the most handsome men she had ever seen, as well as one of the largest. He towered over her own five-feet, six inches, and his broad shoulders stretched the wine-red long-sleeved shirt he wore, though not because he was a gym rat. He carried his size everywhere, which told her it was genetic. Even his thighs, encased in jeans, were big.

  A lock of inky hair had fallen over one bottle-green eye, but the sides of his hair were cut short. Ex-military or police? she wondered. The deep dimples in both stubble-darkened cheeks suggested he smiled a lot, but he wasn’t currently.

  “Hello,” he said. She liked his voice. It was deep, to match his masculine appearance. Finally his lips curled up, and the dimples deepened boyishly. “Do I have the right address? I’m looking for 226.”

  She glanced past him to the driveway that disappeared as it sloped down the hill. If he had brought anyone else, they must be hiding out of view.

  “This is 226,” she said warily.

  His shoulders slumped in relief. “I saw the number, but I didn’t expect a woman…” He smiled sheepishly. “Sorry, that came out rude. I’m Kirk. Kirk Sullivan.”

  Bemused, she said, “What are you doing here?”

  It was his turn to be confused. A second later his expression darkened. “They still didn’t tell you I’d be coming? What is this supposed to be? Some kind of ambush?” His brows drew down, and he muttered, “Or maybe they’re setting me up, hoping Aleksander kills me.”

  “You know Aleksander?” She couldn’t conceal her shock. The only people who knew that the poisoner lived here weren’t people at all. Immediately she looked at the newcomer on the doorstep differently, searching for that predatory edge she’d come to recognize in the chimera despite their best attempts to pass themselves off as human.

  “It’s a complicated story. May I come in?” He looked resigned, his body too loose limbed to launch into a threatening action. Constance had learned to trust her gut, and right now her instincts weren’t clamoring with alarm bells. After a brief hesitation, she stepped back and allowed him inside.

  “Nice place,” he remarked as he slowly made his way through the entryway, heading for the glass windows in the living room. He stood looking at the view, hands in his pockets, a duffel bag slung over one shoulder. “Thought a professional murderer would live in a cave, or maybe some decrepit castle.”

  She almost smiled at the assumption that mirrored her own thoughts about Aleksander. She didn’t, though. It made her realize she hadn’t smiled in some time. Not genuinely.

  “You said there’s a complicated story?” she prompted.

  He sighed. “I assume since you live here with him that you’re aware of the Council?”

  She bit the inside of her cheek to keep from outwardly reacting to the question. “I am.”

  “They’re the ones who sent me. I guess you could say I’m here to serve penance. Do my term, whatever.” He turned and flashed her a small smile that was nonetheless enough to make her heart pound a little faster. “What’s your name?”

  “Constance. Constance Cooper.”

  “Nice to meet you, Constance. You live here, huh?” His expression shifted, though she couldn’t read it. “You’re his…girlfriend?”

  She flushed. “No.”

  Was that relief on his face? It disappeared before she could tell for sure. “Of course you’re not,” he said. “You’re his—”

  “I’m Aleksander’s assistant and—” She caught herself from saying “caretaker” or worse, “nursemaid.” “Housekeeper,” she said instead. “Mr. Sullivan, why are you here?”

  “It’s just Kirk. And as to why I’m here, well, the Council sent me to be Aleksander’s grounder.” Kirk’s crooked smile said, can you believe it?

  “Grounder?” she whispered. She felt nauseated. Light-headed. All this time with no contact from the Council, she had begun to hope that they were unaware of what was happening out here, that they believed she’d succeeded. But if they’d sent a grounder, that meant they knew. It meant they might come for her as they should have done months ago.

  “Hey, are you okay? You look like you’re going to—” He surged forward and caught her as her knees began to buckle beneath her. “Hold on,” he said softly and picked her up as if she weighed nothing and carried her to the sofa. He sat down and propped her against him. His fingers, despite being thick and blunt, were gentle as they brushed errant strands of hair that had fallen over her eyes. “You’re okay. You’re safe. Just lay here and relax.”

  She shut her eyes, mortified. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to.”

  His chuckle was warm. “Of course you didn’t. Just take it easy. We’re fine here.”

  It had been so long since she’d had physical contact with another person that she’d forgotten how warm another body could be and how comforting the steady fall and rise of their chest could feel again
st her cheek. “I’ll be okay in a second,” she murmured, though she didn’t want to move. Not for a few minutes, anyway.

  “What do you think happened?” He smelled like wood and spice, sending an image through her mind of the two of them walking hand in hand through a forest in the winter, each of them carrying mugs of mulled cider.

  “It’s nothing. Really.” She moved his hands away and sat up, guilty about the tiny fantasy she’d entertained. Though his warmth and solidity beckoned to her, she forced herself to move across the cushion so there were a few inches between them. “I sometimes get faint if I haven’t had breakfast.”

  He rubbed at his stubble-darkened chin. “Now that you mention it, I last ate on the plane four hours ago.” He touched her shoulder very lightly, as if afraid he’d startle her. “Have breakfast with me?”

  “Of course. I can put something—”

  “I’ll help.” His grin was wide and genuine. “I always say the best way to get to know new friends is by cooking with them.”

  “Friends?”

  His grin took on an edge of resignation, but the light didn’t dim from his eyes. “Let’s crack some eggs, and I’ll explain.”

  ~~~~~

  Kirk was an excellent cook, knowledgeable and cooperative. But although soon they were sitting across from each other with fluffy omelets on their plates, Constance was unable to eat hers, so great was her shock over what he had told her while they cooked together.

  “You shouldn’t be held accountable for your brother’s mistake,” she said, outraged on his behalf.

  “Maybe not, but I can’t have these guys going after him.”

  “This is completely unnecessary. Aleksander doesn’t need you.”

  He didn’t pick up the tremor in her voice or notice that she was a terrible actress. He was too busy making faces at his breakfast.