Crazy in the Blood (Latter-Day Olympians) Read Online Free PDF Page A

blocked the entrance to an open unit on the other end of the facility. Beyond that, all was quiet on the western front. So in all likelihood no one was watching me. I hadn’t been followed. The target I felt on my back was just more paranoia. From withdrawal? Oh yeah, that was much more comforting.
    I looked around once more, this time for Armani, but I didn’t see him, and didn’t feel compelled to wait. I’d liberated my handgun from my desk at the office and slipped it and its special holster into my slacks so that it literally had my back. Good enough.
    The key to the storage unit was burning a hole in my pocket, and the mystery of what lay behind door number one was calling. I looked both ways before crossing the street, waited for a banana-yellow Hummer to pass, and beat feet toward the bay of doors. The key turned easily in the lock of Christos’s unit, but the door was badly weighted. It took an immense tug to get started on its upward path. Dust mites took flight, dancing in the air all around me, catching the light and tickling my nose, which wrinkled in reaction. Superheated air from within hit me like a slap in the face, stealing my breath and beading sweat on my forehead.
    For this I was giving up a day at the beach. When I found Christos, he was going to owe me big time.
    Based on the scorched, stagnant air, I was the first person to open the unit in some time. It was not going to be easy to explore. Furniture and boxes of all sizes vied for space, stacked on top of one another to within centimeters of the dirt line marking the door’s usual resting place.
    I allowed the slam of a car door to distract me from starting on the Herculean task of sorting through the mish-mosh. Okay, it wasn’t exactly the stables of Augeas. I didn’t have to contend with the acrid reek of horse dung baking in the Mediterranean sun, but still…
    My pulse jumped as it always did at the sight of Detective Nick Armani. He was movie star gorgeous in the roughed-up, Daniel Craig kind of way. Only he was dark where Craig was light—his jet-black hair framing a face that was arresting rather than pretty. His brows were a little too heavy, but they worked somehow to emphasize his amazing blue eyes, almost cobalt with a ring of midnight all around. And an intensity that made me feel sometimes like we were the only two people in the world. Like now…
    His gaze snagged mine as he jogged toward me and I was helpless to look away, but I didn’t have to be happy about it.
    “Hey,” he said, stopping just shy of my personal space.
    “Hey,” I answered as neutrally as possible.
    He took in my look, hands planted on my hips—a confrontational stance, I realized. Not body language he’d miss. For his part, he looked grim, but that was hardly uncommon. Police work was rarely puppies and rainbows.
    “Look, I’m sorry.” He reached out to cup his hand around my neck, stroking the side with his thumb. My pulse jumped another few notches, but I didn’t let it show. “I didn’t mean to shut you down earlier. We just need to keep everything by the book, at least until IA wraps up their investigation. Something’s happened in the last day or so. The Feds have been around. I’ve been getting sidelong glances at headquarters. All I really know is that it involves more murders.”
    “The Feds haven’t questioned you?”
    “Matter of time, I guess. Maybe they’re gathering stories to compare mine against.”
    “Lovely.”
    “They’re just doing their jobs,” he said.
    “Whatever.” I shrugged and started to turn away.
    “Tori—” It stopped me. My name on his lips always did. I looked back at him. “I’ve missed you.”
    That did it. My whole body turned to mush, and this time I couldn’t blame it on the withdrawal. I let him turn me toward him and kiss me, the heat rushing through me like a flash fire, burning away the last of my resentment. Damn the man.
    When he finally drew back, he said, low and husky, “You’re