Page 27 of Shadowed Hearts: Frost
The barista?
She turns slightly. Her profile becomes visible, and recognition hits like a physical force.
Vanessa. Here. At the cybersecurity conference.
My mind calculates probability. Sacramento isn't large enough for multiple cybersecurity events. She dropped out of MIT—background check confirmed it. Temple Coffee attracts tech workers. Makes sense she'd look for better career options.
Logical. Plausible.
So why does something feel wrong?
I maintain my position against the sudden tension in my muscles. The coincidence sits wrong in my chest. Too neat. Too convenient.
She laughs at something a male attendee says to her; the sound carrying across the space with unexpected clarity. The man stands close, too close, leaning in with a familiarity that suggests either previous acquaintance or practiced social engineering.
Cole's voice breaks through my analysis. "The digital signature just reappeared. It's moving through the executive suite systems now."
My gaze narrows on the man's hands. Slim fingers, manicured nails. Position suggests comfort with technology. Hisbody angled to shield whatever he might be accessing on his device.
"Potential target identified," I murmur. "Male, approximately six-foot, black suit, blue tie, tech conference badge. Currently engaged with civilian from previous encounter."
His hand lingers on her arm longer than social convention dictates. Something primitive flashes through me—a sudden urge to remove his fingers from her skin. Breaking them one by one if necessary.
The unexpected reaction rattles me.Focus.
"Got the images from the cameras. Running facial recognition now," Cole responds, rapid typing carrying through the comm.
The man leans in, whispering something that makes her smile. Vanessa tilts her head as she listens, his hand moving from her arm to her lower back. My jaw tightens involuntarily.
The pressure building in my knuckles suggests I'm considering breaking his wrist. I force my fist to uncurl.
"Target appears comfortable with technology and physical contact," I report, voice clinical despite the heat rising under my skin. "Digital activity coincides with his location. Possible match for Echo."
"You sure it's not just jealousy, Frost?" Jax cuts in, amusement coloring his tone. "First the coffee shop, now this. Never seen you track a civilian this closely before."
"Maintaining operational focus." The words come out clipped, more defensive than intended.
"Right," Jax drawls. "Totally professional interest. Got it."
But there she is, her movements flowing like water as she speaks, hands dancing through the air with every word. Nothing about her screams "dangerous criminal."
Everything about her screams "sunshine and coffee and things I shouldn't want."
"Facial recognition negative on male subject," Cole reports. "Running decryption protocols on multiple security layers. Whoever built his digital footprint knew what they were doing. Almost like—"
His voice cuts off as the digital signature abruptly vanishes from our systems.
In the same moment, Vanessa's eyes sweep across the room and meet mine.
The contact lasts exactly two seconds. Long enough for recognition. Short enough to seem accidental.
But nothing about it feels accidental.
Her gaze breaks away with practiced casualness, returning to her companion.
The conference hall dims as overhead lights transition to presentation mode. Announcements crackle over the sound system: "All attendees please proceed to Hall A for our closing keynote presentation on quantum encryption safeguards."
Perfect cover. Crowd movement, lowered visibility, ambient noise.
