Page 9 of Miami Heat (Urban Heat 3)

She looked at Roger and considered asking him to prove his ability to do a little hacking, but decided against it. Although unlikely, he still might be a spy for her dad to see what she was up to. Better to forge a way with the Keith name on the pretext of a case. Then she could play everything by ear when she reached the medical examiner’s office.

Sakura and Roger chatted some more about inconsequential things, and then he saw her back to her hotel. Outside her room, she turned to him to bid him good night. He stilled and looked at her door.

“Is something wrong, Roger?” she asked.

He offered a sheepish grin. “I thought you might invite me in.”

She put a hand on her hip. “Is it in my report that I jump into bed with men I’ve just met?”

“No, no, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to offend you.”

She smirked. “You didn’t.” Leaning forward, she kissed his cheek and smelled his cologne, a nice manly scent that awakened her libido but didn’t quell thoughts of how she wished that damn Adam were in Miami. Before she could use Roger to get rid of the desire, she slipped the key card into the slot and entered her room.

The lights were off even though she remembered leaving one on. She frowned and crossed the room, trying to remember where the switch was. Rolling her eyes, she turned to retrace her steps, and a hand snaked out of the darkness to encircle her waist. She opened her mouth, but another hand clamped across her lips. Sakura didn’t hesitate to bring the heel of her shoe down on the attacker’s foot. He howled in pain, and she kicked backward, her foot glancing off the side of his leg. If she’d aimed better, she’d have taken out his knee.

“Son of a—” the man growled.

Sakura didn’t allow him to finish the curse. She thrust her head back and cracked him in the chin. He hit the floor hard. She scrambled away and fumbled for the light. A lamp came on and illuminated the room. The man on the floor rolled to his hands and knees and jumped up.

“You’re not going anywhere,” she snapped and ran after him. He moved with a speed too fast for a human. Sakura jerked her dress up and unsheathed the knife on her upper thigh. She hit the balcony door seconds after the man did, but when she stepped out onto the platform, empty hot air met her. To the left stretched an unbroken line of balconies across the building. To the right were more of the same. She ran to the railing and peered over the side then gasped. Like a monkey, the man leaped from one balcony to the next, descending in a zigzag pattern until he disappeared into the open doors of one room. Were there monkey shifters, or was this agility common to his kind, whatever that was?

She didn’t bother going down to the lower floor to see if she could find him. He would be long gone, and since he obviously had business with her, she didn’t doubt he would show up again. Besides, she had seen his face. If she ran across him, the outcome of their fight would be very different.

Chapter Four

Sakura spent the next few days allowing Roger to take her out dancing and exploring Miami. She dragged him along shopping so she could pick his brain a little more. Surprised she could wrangle so much info from the man, she reminded herself to have her dad lecture him about being so open. For now, his loose lips were a big help. She found out he had set up logons for all of the field staff, and she could sign in to the database at any time to gain information about shifters. She no longer had to rely on waiting for an email or making a call to headquarters. The system was not complete yet, but eventually, Roger informed her, she would be able to pick up an assignment at any time, enter new information she had learned, search for contacts, and even make appointments with said contacts.

“In fact,” he bragged, “I’ll make it so you can log in from your phone and find someone to help you in any capacity, wherever you are in the world. Specialties will be listed like fighting style, computer hacking, financial, government connections—you name it. And there will be clearance levels, of which yours will go to the top.”

She smiled at him. “I feel so special.”

“You should.” He reached a hand out to touch her hair, and she let him for the moment. “You’re very special, Sakura.”

“You’ve said that or something close to it every time we go out. I’m beginning to think you’re not sincere.”

His eyes widened. “I am, but I have to keep trying, don’t I? I want to get close to you.” He touched her hand, and Sakura heard cars honking their horns behind them. She remained where she was, knowing the light had changed and not caring. Roger ha

d been content to let her drive, and not for the first time she wondered how much he would let her lead. What about in the bedroom, should they take it there?

“I’ll keep that in mind,” she told him, and drove on. They hit South Beach and visited Lincoln Road Mall. Crowds of tourists walked along, exploring the shops and the street vendors. Sakura found a few vintage outfits and unique jewelry that would go well with dresses she already owned. Roger insisted on playing the gentleman by holding her bags, and she didn’t argue with him.

While Roger haggled over some bauble a vendor sold, she wandered on. She stood on tiptoe, squinting behind her sunglasses and then lowered them to study a man not far away. No doubt about it, the sandy blond head, slim shoulders, and smooth gait belonged to her attacker. She glanced over her shoulder at Roger and then weaved her way through the crowd. Her date would have to catch up with her later. For now, work called, and she wasn’t letting the bastard get away.

When the man stepped out from the pedestrian only area into the cross street at Lenox Avenue, he picked up speed, and Sakura followed. She touched a hand to the knife on her outer thigh and took mental inventory of the various other weapons on her person, glad she’d worn flat, comfortable shoes. On the opposite side of Lenox, they continued walking and then reached a parking garage. The man disappeared into it. Sakura looked around and hurried after him. Somewhere, someone slammed a car door, but she didn’t spot the person. No one stood nearby, and as she looked up and down the line of parked vehicles, she couldn’t spot the shifter.

“Damn,” she whispered. “He is not giving me the slip again.” She ran down the nearest row of cars, and out popped her attacker, an arm extended as if he intended to clothesline her. Sakura bobbed low and brought her fist up to punch him in the side. The man slammed against a car.

“You bitch,” he growled.

For the insult, she punched him in the mouth and then bounced back on her toes, fists raised. “That’s for breaking into my room. Now, you want to tell me why you came after me?”

“You’re going to pay for that with your life,” he threatened, and his eyes changed in an instant, going from blue irises with white on either side to amber ones, surrounding elliptical pupils and no white at all. He curved his hands in front of him almost as if he begged like a puppy, but short fingernails grew out to blackened claws.

Sakura fell back a step. There was no doubt in her mind now that she dealt with a shape-shifter. “What are you?”

He advanced on her. “I’m the man who will take down Sakura Keith.”

So he did know who she was. Not that she’d doubted it. The family name, more than the faces, were known all over the world. Shifters and a few select humans who knew how to keep their mouths shut were privy to what her family did. Often Sakura could slip into the shifter’s world under an assumed name and take down the enemy long before he identified her. As a normal precaution, she had checked into the Miami hotel with false identification, and yet, she’d been found out.

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