Page 89 of Her Dark Salvation

I’d spent the early part of the week refining and running simulations, working late nights only to hit brick wall after brick wall. I was missing something. I was sure of it. I’d successfully characterized the leak but couldn’t figure out where it was coming from or, in turn, who was responsible.

The rhythmic pounding of the pavement and the cadence of my breath cleared my mind, more so than at any time over the past few weeks. It wandered from images of Marco hovering over me and the pleasure he’d so easily wrung from my body to the demonic glow of his eyes and the anticipation of his fangs in my neck. Surprising given that less than a week ago I hadn’t even known supernatural beings existed. But acceptance had quickly replaced shock and fear, my scientific brain recognizing the facts for what they were—facts. Once that happened, curiosity took over, and I wanted to understand more of his world. And experience the extraordinary pleasure only Marco could provide.

He still hadn’t bitten me, and I could tell he didn’t want to talk about it. I understood his reasons, but that didn’t mean I wasn’t disappointed. Not all blood demons put restrictions on their feeding like Marco. Luca certainly didn’t. And although I respected his boundary, I did wonder where it came from.

We hadn’t known each other very long, but the urgency propelling me to live my life was no less pressing now than when I’d taken the leap and gone on sabbatical. Marco and I had a connection, a magnetic, exhilarating, sensuous connection, and I didn’t want to wait to explore its potential.

Everything about him excited me. His Italian heritage and immigrant upbringing; his sharp, calculating mind, and even sharper tongue; his gorgeous eyes and stern mouth; the danger inherent in his less-than-legal businesses; even the knowledge he was a blood demon.

I’d never met someone who could drive me so wild with need and hold their own with me in a conversation about finance. And he was so charmingly brazen. The man had commented on my tits in the same email he’d explained his company’s foreign tax journaling, and?—

Puzzle pieces crashed into place, and adrenaline rushed my system with the force of their fall. It made me woozy, and I stumbled to the side of the path, bent over, ready to hurl my breakfast into the dirty snow. How had I missed the connection?

I took my phone out of my running belt with shaking hands.

I know how he did it.

I’m in my office.

I’d already made it to East Cambridge and the Longfellow Bridge; at this point, it would be faster to run. My heart hammered in my chest as I picked up the pace. I didn’t want to tell him. He was going to be furious, but more than that, the news would break his heart.

* * *

“Anna!”Siobhán’s voice rang out across the lobby.

“Hey!” I glanced over my shoulder, only slowing for a moment in my speed-walk toward the elevators. “I’ll call you later!”

She gave me a confused once-over and frowned. Sweat dripped down my face and soaked through my long-sleeve thermal, but I didn’t have time to explain.

On the elevator, endorphins and adrenaline joined forces and had me bouncing on the balls of my feet. My brain cycled through a million different scenarios searching, reaching for any other explanation than the one I knew to be true.

Nothing.

The elevator dinged and the doors slid open. Marco’s office door was ajar. He was on the phone and waved me in. I closed the door behind me.

“Look, I’ll have to call you back later. Yes. That’s fine. Ciao.” He placed the phone on his desk and eyed my feet.

Melted snow and dirt covered my running shoes. I grimaced. “Sorry.”

He waved his hand. “Must not be very good news if it couldn’t wait till after your run.” He eyed my thermal. “Or a clean set of clothes.” There was an edge to his voice that matched the stern lines of his face.

“I know how he did it.”

His obsidian eyes became impossibly darker. “Howwhodidwhat?” The sharptcut like a knife.

There was no way to break the news but to break his heart. “I know how—how Luca stole the money.”

“HowLucastole the money?” he growled.

“It had to be Luca.” I walked up to his desk. “He’s the only one that could have pulled it off.”

“Pulled what off, Anna?” Marco asked, loud, demanding, impatient. Red sparks appeared across the midnight field of his eyes.

“Changing the taxes. That’s how he did it. That’s why I didn’t see it at first. I—I was on my run and…” I paced back to the center of the room, and my hands flew through the air as fast as the thoughts streamed from my brain to my mouth. “And I was thinking about us and how you’d harassed me and called it flirting. And that email. The—the one about my tits.” Marco blinked and looked at me like I was a mad woman. “And then I remembered what started that email chain. The missing years. The missing taxes.”

I stopped waving my hands, rested them on the edge of his desk, and took two deep breaths, needing to slow down so Marco would understand. “I couldn’t find any record of state and local taxes in the expense reports, remember? You had to email them to me. Because they are journaled separately. Remember?” I swallowed. “And—and that’s how he did it. That’s how he hid it.”

I’d almost tripped over my own feet when I’d connected the dots, it was so glaringly obvious. Had I not wanted to see the truth?

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