Page 34 of Whispers in the Quarter

His hand hovers over the folder. “This is evidence. If you’ve been withholding?—”

“Oh, spare me the bureaucratic ethics.” I wave dismissively. “We both know the system is broken. How many monsters have you watched walk free because of legal technicalities? How many times have you wished for a more... elegant solution?”

“That’s not?—”

“Justice?” I stand, moving into his space. “But it is justice, Ethan. Pure, uncompromised by politics or procedure. Look at Perkins’ file. Look what he was involved in. The trafficking, the murders, all covered up with money and influence. Until someone decided to deliver what the law couldn’t.”

“You know who’s doing this.” It’s not a question.

“I know many things.” I tap his chest, right over his heart. “Just like I know you’re not as horrified by these deaths as you pretend to be. Your pulse races with fascination, not revulsion. Rather like mine did when I first discovered the truth.”

He grabs my wrist, but doesn’t push me away. “The truth about what?”

“About everything.” I grin, probably looking as mad as I feel. “About justice and chemistry and beautiful monsters who do terrible things for the right reasons. About how sometimes the most ethical choice is to break every rule you’ve ever followed.”

“You’re insane,” he whispers, but there’s something like wonder in his voice.

“Brilliantly so!” I agree cheerfully. “And you’re on the verge of your own magnificent break from sanity. I can see it in your eyes—that hunger for something more than paperwork and procedures. Something... darker. More satisfying.”

He doesn’t move. He doesn’t run.

Push harder.

“My dear Saint,” I purr, using the nickname I gave him months ago—back when I first recognized the holy crusaderhiding a sinner’s heart. “You’re thinking too much. Always so determined to be righteous, aren’t you? Even when righteousness fails.”

His grip on my wrist tightens. “Don’t call me that.”

“Why not? It suits you—the virtuous FBI agent, sacrificing everything in pursuit of justice.” I step closer, until I can feel the heat radiating off him. “But even saints can fall, saint. Often in the most... spectacular ways.”

“Lucas,” his voice holds a warning, but he still doesn’t step back. “Whatever you’re involved in?—”

“Is exactly what you wish you were involved in.” I reach up with my free hand, straightening his perpetually crooked tie. “I see it, you know. Every time we discuss a case, every time justice slips through legal loopholes. That darkness in your eyes, that hunger...” I lean closer, dropping my voice to a whisper. “It’s beautiful.”

His breath catches. Oh, he’s magnificent when he’s struggling with temptation. “You’re trying to manipulate me.”

“Obviously!” I laugh, the sound slightly manic. “And you’re letting me, which is far more interesting.” I tap the folder still lying between us. “Take it, Saint. Read it. Let yourself feel what you’ve been denying.”

“And if I arrest you instead?”

“You won’t.” My certainty makes him flinch. “Because deep down, you want to know how the story ends. Want to be part of it.” I pull away, moving to my private safe. “Would you like to see what else I’ve been working on? What we could accomplish together?”

“We?” There’s that crack in his armor I’ve been waiting for.

“Mmm.” I enter the safe’s combination with flourishing digits. “Did your mother never teach you patience, Saint? All will be revealed in time. Like a properly executed chemical reaction—every element must be introduced in perfect sequence.”

I retrieve a small vial of iridescent liquid, holding it up to the light. The way his eyes track it is positively predatory. Such potential in him, barely contained by that FBI suit.

“What is that?”

“Evolution in a bottle, saint.” I move back into his space, enjoying how he tenses but doesn’t retreat. “Or perhaps revelation would be more accurate. Depends on one’s philosophical perspective.”

“You’re completely insane,” he says, but there’s something like longing in his voice.

I reach up, trailing one finger along his jaw. “And you’re completely captivated. Shall we see which one of us breaks first?”

He doesn’t flinch.

Push harder.

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