Below the Surface

Chapter Three

Sneaking into Tomanna had been frighteningly easy. The Harmon building was open twenty-four hours a day, the elevators unrestricted up to the seventeenth floor. Taking the stairs, she huffed up eight flights and carefully exited to find the lobby dark. The security guard she thought she’d have to avoid was nowhere in sight.

Tessa frowned. She would speak to her boss about security’s gaps on Monday, after she made sure her neck was no longer on the chopping block.

Tomanna had an eerie feel at night, with only a faint amount of light shining through the hall windows at the far end of hallway. This hall was fairly safe, mostly dark. But as soon as she rounded the bend, she would feel exposed by the frail moonlight that played peek-a-boo with the clouds.

The layout of each floor was consistent—an elevator at one end, and the stairwell and a set of large glass windows at the opposite end, both framing the large square hallway encompassing at least thirty private offices along the corridor.

She had five rooms to check at the end of this particular passage, and the tentative moonlight really bugged her. Uneasy about her visibility, she lowered the nondescript ball cap over her eyes and used her flashlight sparingly, relying more on memory to guide her than artificial light. Four security guards patrolled Tomanna’s two floors in the twenty-story Harmon building, and with her luck, one of them would spot her handy Maglight.

An hour and a half later, after nosing through the offices of seven of the twelve suspects whom she imagined might have wanted her fired, she ducked into a dimly lit storage locker to regroup. Gathering her thoughts, she grabbed her list from the back pocket of her jeans and rechecked her names.

So far she’d eliminated the people she’d competed with for her current position in the company. Nice to know her peers had taken losing their last promotion in stride.

Now, on to the remaining five. Her eyes continued to linger on the name Marcus Storm, which, in good conscience, she’d been unable to leave from her list. They’d had a hell of a confrontation yesterday—her pulse leapt at the remembrance—and with Tom’s timely little premonition rearing its head, she knew she’d be foolish to write him off.

Irritated at how much she wanted Storm to be innocent of wrongdoing, she resolved to check his office next. Davis and the others she’d search after she took care of Storm.

She returned the list to her pocket and listened for any movement before opening and shutting the door quickly. Whoever thought keeping the storage closets lit twenty-four hours a day needed a lesson in energy conservation. She decided to approach Jonas about that on Monday, in addition to the lacking security.

Walking quietly down the hallway, she found the exit and walked up the stairs. There she stole silently towards the ‘Devil’s Den’, what she sarcastically called Storm’s office.

She jiggled the handle, not surprised he kept it locked when everyone else she’d checked had left their doors unlocked. Muttering under her breath, she reached for her spare keys and unlocked the door. It paid having friends in the janitorial department, and she made a mental note to bring Greg the homemade snickerdoodles he liked so much.

Weak light filtered into the room via two overly large windows, giving Tessa an easy look around Storm’s office. She made sure the blinds on his office door were closed, then set to work.

After twenty minutes of searching and a steadily growing headache, she leant back in his surprisingly comfortable leather chair. Just as I thought, he spends too much time working and womanizing. He wouldn’t have time to set me up between working the Craiger-Mim account and seducing his latest dim-witted Barbie look-alike.

That comment had little to do with rumour and everything to do with the scene she’d witnessed a month ago, her conscience asserted. Lunching inside Lacall’s Eatery on a much-deserved day off, she’d been stunned to watch Marcus breaking up with Darla Mitchell, the Mitchell Publishing heiress, on a very public street corner.

Granted, Storm had the looks, and she grudgingly admitted, the charisma to charm his way into any woman’s bed. But he really needed to perfect his break-ups.

Covering a yawn with her hand, she froze when she heard a faint scratching from within the room. She knew no one was in his private bathroom, but she hadn’t checked the closet on the far side of the office. And why would anyone be hiding in Marcus Storm’s closet in the dark on a Saturday night, anyway?

The scratching turned into a steady ticking. Her eyes widened as she noted a fountain pen rolling of its own volition across the floor where it must have fallen, up the side and across the top of his desk to lay in front of her.

The list from her back pocket flew out of her jeans and over her shoulder to flap in her face before falling to the desktop next to the pen.

Frazzled, Tessa could only stare, wondering why the hell this telekinesis had to start up again when it had been dormant since her experience yesterday after work.

Then the office door flew open and she stared, horrified, at an equally shocked Marcus Storm.

She’d been in his thoughts all day and now sat behind his desk, in his office. So much for an escape from Tessa Sheridan. Marcus’ eyes narrowed.

“What are you doing here?” she croaked, looking like a sexy stalker in a black hat and jacket.

He cocked a brow, pleased when she swallowed audibly. “Sorry, I was under the impression this was my office.”

“But it’s Saturday night!”

“And?” He glanced at his desk, curious about the paper she seemed intent on covering. “Isn’t that my Waterman?” he referred to his fountain pen, an expensive gift from a happy client.

“Oh, uh, yeah.” She stared down at it with distaste, as if expecting it to jump up and bite her. “It was on the floor. You must have dropped it.”

Marcus closed the door behind him and leant back against it, amused at the polite dance of words between them. Her bright blue eyes looked nervous, worried, and a tad, angry? His mood brightened despite the circumstances. He thoroughly enjoyed watching Tessa lose her temper.

“I suppose I should ask what you’re doing in here.” He studied his fingernails, then glanced up casually at her stark-white face.

“Uh, well, yes, you probably should.” She licked her lips and he wanted to groan. Of all the actions to take to get out of this mess, seducing him would by far be the worst, for both their sakes.

“Tessa?” he prodded.

“My mouth is drier than a field of cotton.” A sudden clamour from the vicinity of his mini-refrigerator caught his attention, but he swiftly turned back to Tessa when he heard a groan.

She had her head in her hands, her face pressed against the top of his desk.

“Are you alright?”

“Fine,” she mumbled and lifted her head, then whipped off her hat, showcasing her glorious, fiery red hair. “I’m dandy. Just great. Another five minutes and we could have avoided this.” She looked from him to the refrigerator.

“About ‘this’,” he began, determined to keep the desk between them as he sat across from her. All too easily his mind recaptured the feel of her breasts under his palms, of her sweet mouth melting like candy beneath his tongue. “I think I’m due an explanation.”

Her baby-blue eyes widened until he swore he could see an echo of blue tile from his earlier dream. “You have to be royally pissed I’m in here, not to mention secretly jumping for joy that you’ve now got something to hold over my head for the rest of my life. How can you sit there so calmly?”

His heart raced, the thought of having Tessa under his thumb extremely tempting. Imagining the fiery woman on her knees shook him to the quick. But a backbone of honour steeled his thoughts, and he mentally shook his head.

“Before we get into what promises to be your extremely interesting explanation, I need to say something.” He took a deep breath. “I’m sorry for my unwanted attentions yesterday.”

His voice sounded stilted to his own ears, so he could imagine how inane he must sound to her. Odd, but he’d never had so much trouble dealing with a woman before in his life.

She didn’t blink. “You’re sorry?”

He nodded.

“Sorry for your, and I quote, ‘unwanted attentions’?”

“Yes.” He held his irritation at bay. He had wronged her, no matter that her body had accepted his all too readily.

“You sure are a piece of work, Storm.” Her eyes glittered, and he realised, with some surprise, she was angry.

“Now what?”

“Nothing.” He could see her eyes smouldering, and his body responded with unadulterated desire. She cleared her throat. “I had planned on offering my apologies as well. I shouldn’t have accused you of sleeping with one of your clients.”

“No, you shouldn’t have,” he said, mystified to hear her apologise.

“But you must know everyone’s been talking about it,” she added. “The only reason I actually believed the rumours is because Sheila Covington herself up and told the secretaries you slept with her.” She blushed as she said it, but maintained eye contact.

So, Sheila had told everyone they’d been intimate. He should have guessed. She hadn’t taken his rejection well at all, even as gently as he’d given it.

“For the record, Tessa,” he said, his voice low. “Sheila Covington doesn’t like to hear the word ‘no’, any more than Michael Davis does, I’d imagine.” She stared, her expression turning from one of understanding to one of contrition. “I love Craiger-Mim’s possibilities, so I suppose I’ve been overly tolerant where Sheila’s concerned. Had I known to what lengths she would go to get my attention, I’d have handled her differently,” he said quietly, more to himself than her.

“I really am sorry,” Tessa said after a pause. “I don’t listen to office gossip as a rule, but, well, you are known for being, ah…”

“Discerning?” he finished for her. “Choosy? Popular with the ladies? Is that what you were going to say?” He couldn’t help but grin.

Her eyes sparkled with laughter and a grudging smile curled her lips. “More or less.”

“Well, now that’s out of the way, how about you tell me what this is all about?”

He wanted to see the paper she edged closer to her jacket and gave it a subtle mental tug. With a gasp, she watched it fall over the edge of the desk towards him. He leant to grab it but could only stare in amazement when the paper reversed direction and glided back across the desk to land in her hands.

Their eyes met across the desk, his questioning, hers accusing.

“It’s you,” she said and rubbed her eyes. “I should have known.”

Marcus’ thoughts racing, he stared from the paper to Tessa’s suspicious gaze. “You moved that. With your mind,” he said evenly, almost hoping she would deny it.

“Well, the only reason I can do that is because you can.”

“What?”

“Tell me you didn’t just take it from me. Come on, Marcus. I dare you to try that again.”

Amazed he was having this conversation when he still wanted answers as to why she was in his office at midnight on the weekend, he stole the paper back from her with a brief telekinetic snap.

She shook her head, angry again. “Of course it had to be you.”

His attention caught by the list in his hands, he frowned as he read it. “What is this?”

“Why not tell you? If I don’t, you might read my mind.” Her voice was hard, and not at all wary of his telepathy. “That is a list of all the people who might want to see me fired from Tomanna.”

“What?” Then a new understanding dawned. “I’m on this list!”

She sighed. “Well, we did argue yesterday before locking lips.”

He couldn’t help feeling affronted. “I’d never try to do you harm.” He couldn’t believe she thought so badly of him. Well, that’s what came of succumbing to base instincts, he thought as he remembered attacking her in front of his desk. “Yesterday—”

“Forget about it.” She blushed. “I’m sorry I mentioned it. And I wouldn’t have added you to my list except,” she paused, flagging his curiosity.

“Except?”

“Never mind. Can’t we just forget about this?”

He could only stare at her. “Forget about this? First you break into my office. Then you use your mind to move my pen, which I know for a fact is far beyond normal for,” he paused, about to say one of your kind, “anyone. You have a list of people who want to ruin you, and I’m on it! By the Light, we’ll talk about this!”

She frowned. “By the Light? What light?”

The woman had trouble staying on subject. “Never mind. Tell me again what this list represents.” He noted Michael Davis on the list, as well as several of Tomanna’s logisticians. “And don’t think we’re not going to discuss our tug-of-war over my pen.”

She rolled her eyes. “Of course we’ll discuss it.” Then she arched her brow into an exact replica of his favourite expression. “We’ll also talk about your macho seduction yesterday.”

“Which worked,” he added smoothly, pleased when she flushed and stammered a denial. “Much as I regret my behaviour, I don’t regret what I learned from the experience. But we’ll return to that later,” he promised, in control once more.

Sparring with Tessa revitalised him, made him feel strong and surprisingly like a man worthy of holding his own with his contemporaries. He eyed her with a mixture of desire and curiosity, wanting to know about her now more than ever.

“Tell me about the list, Tessa,” he said softly, disconcerting her.

She stared at him for a minute before conceding. “I have a very good source who informed me someone at the company wants me gone.”

“Gone?”

“As in arrested on charges of embezzlement, for starters.”

“But why?”

“Good question. Unfortunately, I don’t know. I came up with that list of people, the only ones I could think of that might want me out of the way. The five logisticians and I competed for my last promotion. But they’re clean.”

“You already searched their offices?” His focus was clear, though a myriad questions floated in the recesses of his mind.

“Yeah. No paper or computer trail to follow. I also crossed two of the secretaries on this floor off the list.”

“Why them?”

She bit her lip. “I may have said some uncomplimentary things about you in their hearing.”

A small smile tugged his lips. “My staff is fiercely loyal.”

“I know,” she added glumly. “But neither of them had anything suspicious in their files either. I have five, no, four more candidates to study since you’re off the list.”

“Thanks,” he murmured wryly. “But what do you hope to find?”

“Something within a logistics frame, obviously, that shows me squandering company funds.”

“I still don’t understand why they’d be after you,” he said, unable to think of any reason to rid the firm of Tessa. From what he could tell, everyone from her boss to the company staff thought the woman walked on water.

“I don’t either. But I know if I don’t find this supposed evidence against me before Monday, I’ll be facing the police.”

Marcus stared at the wound-up redhead nearly bouncing in his chair. Irritating, emotional, passionate—she was all those, and much more. But a criminal? One look into her clear blue eyes and anyone could see her strength of integrity.

Odd, but he’d never before noticed the power behind her pure, blue gaze. He frowned and circled the desk to pull her to her feet.

“What?” she asked with a frown.

Words caught in his throat. A wave of cold evil washed over him at the same time Tessa’s eyes widened in horror at something over his shoulder.

Without thought, Marcus threw them both to the floor, narrowly avoiding a freezing blast of blue fire that seared its way into the desk.

“What the hell?” Tessa stared in shock, and he felt a rush of power move from her and through him towards the threat.

Rolling to his feet, he watched as a wraith, one of the dreaded Netharat, clutched at its rotting, lumpy and hairless skull. Marcus glanced back at Tessa, a question in his eyes, when he felt the pressure in the room increase, a sure signal of more unwelcome visitors.

There would be time for questions later, he told himself, and faced two more wraiths that appeared out of nowhere, directly in front of him. He attacked, angry beyond measure that evil continued to spread into this as yet untainted world. The wraiths gurgled with fear as water began filling every crevice of their bodies. The magical waters touched only the Netharat, washing over and around them in a blur of motion.

They drowned in the torturous waters conjured by Marcus’ elemental reserves, their white eyes darkening to black, threats no more. Then they slowly faded into nothingness, disappearing into that dark place beyond worlds.

He heard Tessa curse in disbelief but kept his attention on the remaining wraith regaining its feet by the wall.

Marcus’ fountain pen flew by his left cheek and embedded itself into the creature’s forehead. The wraith howled in pain, but the superficial wound only served to aggravate it further. Considering how outmatched she was by both himself and the creature, Marcus couldn’t help admiring Tessa’s determination, and that admiration only added to her allure.

“Stay back, Tessa,” he said softly, his handle on the situation firm. Pleased as he was by her courage, he didn’t need the distraction. It only took a moment of inattention to become Netharat kill. Wanting the creature gone and away from Tessa, he pulled his power inward, readying for a final confrontation.

“Why are you here, minion?” he asked the wraith in its native language.

Its jaw opened in surprise, revealing three rows of black, stained teeth, sharpened into menacing points. “You’ve a command of my language, eh, Storm Lord?” It laughed, a grating whine that made Marcus’ head ache, and continued in English, apparently for Tessa’s benefit. “How nice. My lord might have more fun with you than he’d planned.”

“What do you do here, morlah?” Unclean one.

“I’ve come to play,” the wraith said, the yellow and black of its face a disease upon the senses made worse by the odour of decay wafting from its putrid body. “With you and all your friends,” it added slyly, a glance past Marcus to Tessa.

His composure vanished at the specific threat to Tessa, and unleashing the reins on his tight control, Marcus unloaded his will onto the creature, forcing its form in upon itself until nothing remained but a ragged cry of pain as it finally imploded.

The room now empty of evil, Marcus turned to see Tessa staring at him with shock and awe.

“What the hell were they?” she asked, her eyes bright with fear. “And who the hell are you?”

Marcus sighed. “That’s a long story.”

“I’ve got time,” she said, her jaw clenched.

Loud footsteps echoed down the hall, and he realised they had little time before more outsiders became involved. “I’m sorry about this, Tessa.”

Giving her no time to respond, he mentally triggered her neck, momentarily interrupting the supply of oxygen to her brain just enough to make her lose consciousness, and gathered her in his arms before releasing a hurried spell.

His brother immediately appeared.

“We need to leave, Aerolus, now.”

Aerolus nodded, and reaching out to touch Marcus, teleported them from the office just as security breeched the door.