That means he has left enough of the pickup crew alive to question. There is a good chance these are just couriers, but I will find out. I absently stroke Alana’s hair and she sighs, scooting closer to me. My balls light on fire. “Pack those carefully and send them to my main headquarters along with the quartz.”
“Of course,” Wynd says.
The alexandrite, with its ability to change colors, has the propensity to speed up transfer and then store more data much faster than currently imaginable—and possibly a way to save my damn life. Apparently I’m not the only one with an eye on the tech. To think that Mathias Beaumont had almost gotten his blood-soaked hands on alexandrite is infuriating. I need to find out who else is this far ahead with the technology. If it isn’t one of the three other social media companies, then we have a new player on the board who sold the alexandrite to him.
Wynd clears his throat. “Do you want to meet at the boathouse?”
I look down at the sleeping woman as darkness flows through my blood. The boathouse near the ocean is where I interrogate and play. “Yes. I want answers. There were supposed to be red garnets in those containers.”
Wynd chuckles. “Yes, sir. Man, Beaumont is going to be pissed he’s lost some of his shipments.”
That isn’t all he lost tonight. “Don’t call again until you have relevant information.” I click off.
Justice makes another turn. “No red garnets?”
“No.” Like the other three families, one member has always been tied to certain crystals. In the stone ages, the ability looked like magic because the connection led to such great health and charisma, which helped gain power. In the computer ages, the bond put our families ahead of all other technological users. And now, in the social media era? We’ve become gods.
Unfortunately, an enemy figured out how to infect my main garnet, the one that runs all of our servers, with a freezing type of deadly virus that also transferred to me. I need healthy garnets to keep Malice Media running . . . and hopefully save my life. If I can just transfer my connection from the diseased main garnet to a healthy one, a large fucking one that I’ve been unable to find, hopefully I’ll also be saved.
“We’ll find a large garnet,” I say, dialing my chief operating officer, the smartest computer programmer in the world.
“Kazstone,” he answers as the sound of a keyboard clacking comes across the line.
“Search social media for Alana Beaumont.” When I say her name, she shifts slightly, her nose scrunching. I tangle my fingers in her hair and knead her nape. The soft sound of pleasure she purrs nearly has me waking her up to better use that sweet mouth.
“Alana last posted before dinnertime tonight.” More keys. “There’s nothing more about her.”
Good. Then he won’t have to scrub the web this evening. “What about a shooting at Martini Money?”
Kaz is quiet for a moment. “Did you just say Martini Money?”
I let my silence speak for itself.
Keys clack again. “Nothing from the news outlets, but there are a few social media posts from private citizens. Scratch that. Nothing from Aquarius Social . . . or Hologrid Hub.”
So Mathias is handling it from his end, as is Cal Sokolov. Or rather, his older brother is taking down any videos or statements regarding the night, and one of them got to the legacy news outlets, at least.
“Scrub anything from Malice Media, and full hack on TimeGem Moments if you can do it.” That takes care of all four of the big social media companies, where most of the world now gets their news. “I want no record of the shooting or of Alana after she posted.”
“Not a problem.” He sounds assured, just like I require him to be. “Anything else?”
I try to shift my weight but I’m still throbbing and fighting the urge to wake her up to force that sound of pleasure from her when she’s conscious. Justice drives onto my property and the vehicle jostles us as he maneuvers over the bridge. “Yes. What is Mathias Beaumont up to right now?”
Kaz finds the info faster than I expect. “He’s at home but his men are fanning out over the city looking for . . . Alana.” The tempo speeds up. “Do you need me to find her?”
“No. Just keep an eye on Mathias as well as the Sokolov brothers. Check in hourly. If you have time on your hands, search the world to find anybody researching uses for alexandrite. Look for somebody new.” I end the call. Now that we’re on my property, my body finally relaxes. I look up to see the turrets glowing, maybe not with a welcome light but a familiar one. “Call Mrs. Pendrake and have her send clothes for Alana,” I say to Justice.
“Got it.” Justice stops the vehicle at the front door.
I open my door and slide out, carrying the woman with me. She feels light and defenseless in my arms, and beast that I am, I want her even more. Two days ago, I would have bet my entire fortune that such a thing was not possible. I was wrong. I curve my body to protect her from the rain and stalk inside, nodding at the guards and striding up the curved staircase to what I suppose is the guest bedroom. It has never been used.
Flicking on the light, I take in the king-sized bed with ivory bedspread. The room is decidedly feminine. Apparently my decorator expected a woman or two to visit. I pull back the heavy coverlet and gently lay her down, waiting for her to awaken.
She does not.
Instead, she mumbles and curls onto her side, facing me. Her skirt rides up and her blood-soaked halter rides down. The tops of her breasts are full and flawless. I blink and then catch sight of her ridiculous heels.
It’s a miracle she was able to get to the storage room.
I don’t want to leave her in those, and I need to touch her. Silently, I drop to my haunches and reach for one strap, releasing it and sliding the shoe away. My fingers brush the smooth skin of her ankle, and we both groan.
Jerking, I look up to see her eyes still shut and her mouth partly open.
I’m quicker with the second shoe, and then I stand, pulling the bedcovers tight to her neck. I take a deep breath, inhaling the scent of honeysuckle. Is it her perfume or shampoo? Or is it just her? Whatever it is, the scent is made for me. Just for me.
So I turn and walk out of the room, glancing at my watch with its garnet crystals. It’s time to go draw blood to gain answers. The woman may sleep peacefully tonight.
Tomorrow will come soon enough.
EIGHT
Alana
I stretch awake, cocooned in luxurious silk and cotton. Yawning, I sit bolt upright in the bed. My nerves jangle and I suck in air. How could I have possibly fallen asleep the night before? I’ve been kidnapped by Thorn freakin’ Beathach.
Had he somehow drugged me?
The sound of the ocean beating mercilessly against rocks filters through the room. I grind the heel of my hand into my left eye. Those three drinks were stronger than I thought, and coupled with the adrenaline of being shot at, my system must have shut down. But even so, where the heck am I?
