Page 131 of Shadowed Hearts: Frost
He shifts slightly, positioning himself where he can observe without being easily visible on camera.
Even now, he's thinking tactically. Does he ever turn it off?
"Cut the shit."
My fingers fly across my laptop, sending him three files simultaneously. The familiar blue glow of multiple screens reflects in his wide eyes as his monitors light up with incoming data.
"Explain these."
The enthusiasm drains from his expression as he processes what he's seeing. Behind me, the soft click of Asher setting down his weapon echoes through the silence. The living room falls silent except for the buzz of my equipment and blood rushing through my head.
Slate's fingers stop their constant drumming for the first time since I've known him.
"What am I looking at?"
"Your encryption signature embedded in Tatiana Ivanov's trafficking network."
The words taste like poison on my tongue.
"The same protocols you taught me are being used to move women across state lines."
The color bleaches from his face. "That's impossible."
"Is it?"
I lean forward, my laptop screen reflecting in his horrified eyes.
"Your authentication methods, your key generation patterns. They're woven through the entire fucking system. Sloppy implementation, but unmistakably yours."
Behind me, Asher shifts closer. Not close enough to enter the camera frame, but near enough that his presence burns along my spine. His breathing has gone shallow, controlled. He starts to reach toward me, then his hand drops back to his side.
He does that a lot lately. What's he fighting?
"Tatiana Ivanov."
I turn my screen to show her photo. Platinum blonde hair, ice blue eyes, that calculated smile that probably made Slate feel like the most important person in the room.
"Tell me about her. Now."
Slate's throat works soundlessly for several seconds. When he finally speaks, his voice comes out broken, smaller than I've ever heard it.
"I met her after her last boyfriend passed away. She was brokenhearted. Said she'd been following my work in the cyber community, and she needed help with secure communications."
My stomach clenches. The timing makes perfect sense now. A calculated predator swooping in when he was vulnerable.
"She approached you specifically?" Each word scrapes my throat raw. "Why?"
"Said she needed secure communications for high-profile clients."
His gaze goes distant, lost in memory.
"She was incredible, Ness. Made me feel like I wasn't just some freak with a computer. Like my work mattered."
Heat builds behind my eyes. The monitor on my wrist, the one Asher insisted I wear during recovery, beeps softly as my heart rate spikes. Asher takes another step closer, his hand hovering near my shoulder before he catches himself and pulls back.
Why won't he just touch me? What's holding him back?
"What exactly did you give her, Slate?"
