Page 64 of Shadowed Hearts: Frost
As they discuss technical details, I sense Asher's eyes on me, watchful and calculating. His hand finds my knee under the desk, a questioning touch that makes my skin tingle despite my troubled thoughts.
After ending the call, I stare at the code fragments, mind racing with uncomfortable questions.
"What did you see?" Asher's voice is quiet, too perceptive.
I stare at the screen, code patterns swimming before my eyes. The signature strings embedded in Vertex Models' security system look disturbingly familiar, almost like Slate's work.
Almost, but not quite—or am I just trying to convince myself?
I turn to him, caught between loyalty to my mentor and the unsettling pattern before me.
"It's complicated," I finally answer, pulling my legs up beneath me. "Slate and I go back years. He found me when I was nineteen, hacking financial institutions to expose predatory lending."
Asher's expression remains neutral, but his eyes never leave my face.
"He taught me almost everything I know about network penetration." My fingers tap nervously against the keyboard. "He's practically family."
"But?" Asher prompts, too perceptive.
I deliberately turn back to the monitor. "But nothing. I trust him. He's helped dozens of survivors rebuild their identities."
I can feel Asher studying me, watching me. I don't dare look directly at him while lying. I focus on our command center, screens casting blue light across his living room, equipment humming around us like a cocoon.
"Your organizational system is surprisingly methodical," Asher observes, moving to stand behind my chair. "Despite appearances."
His proximity sends a tingle of awareness through me. I force myself to keep typing.
"Chaos has its own logic," I reply, navigating through three different systems. "To you it may look random, but everything has its place in my mind."
Asher leans closer, his breath warm against my neck. "Like how you sort data packages alphabetically, but your physical equipment by function?"
A small thrill runs through me. He's been paying attention.
"Exactly. I—" My speech stops when his hand lands on my shoulder, the solid warmth of his touch sending warmth through my body. My fingers freeze over the keyboard.
"We need protocols," his voice low. "For this investigation."
I swallow hard. "Right. Like data security standards?"
"Among other things." His thumb traces a small circle at the base of my neck. "Boundaries."
I struggle to remember what we're talking about. His other hand comes to rest on the desk beside mine, our fingers nearly touching.
"Boundaries," I repeat. "Those are important."
"Very." He hasn't moved away. In fact, I think he's closer now, the solid heat of him inches from my back.
I turn my chair slightly, looking up at him. The blue light from the monitors highlights the sharp angles of his face, turning him into something otherworldly. Beautiful and dangerous. My heart hammers loudly in my chest.
His phone buzzes sharply, shattering the moment.
Asher straightens, checking the message. "Kade needs confirmation by morning."
I nod, turning back to my screens, but my fingers hover motionless over the keyboard. The code—with those familiar patterns—swims before my eyes, suddenly looking like a trap waiting to be sprung.
eighteen
Asher
