It took my parents twenty minutes to figure out I’d given them the slip, which was when Raymond’s phone rang. “Answer it if you want,” he said, nodding towards where his phone rested between the seats.
“Don’t mind if I do.” I confirmed the number did, indeed, belong to my father before I swiped my finger across the screen. “You snooze, you lose, old man.”
“You ran away with my cop.”
“He was available, he wasn’t arguing with anyone, and he’s taking me to get something to eat. I’m hungry.”
“When aren’t you hungry?”
“When I’m actively being fed.”
“You were supposed to wait for us to finish deciding who was driving you home.”
“Your cop is obviously driving me home.”
My father sighed. “I was going to tell you we have a formal event tonight.”
“There is no way in fucking hell we have a formal event tonight.”
“We have a formal event tonight,” he repeated.
Raymond sighed and shook his head. I glared at him. “Did you know there was a formal event tonight, you?”
The detective snorted. “No. I’m just marveling over the base stupidity of some people.”
“In that, we’re agreed. Dad, I am not up for a formal event tonight.”
“You need to be. I was told early this morning. When I pick up the phone, and a woman instructs me to please hold for the President of the United States, it’s the sort of formal event we can’t skip.”
My father had spoken to the President? The President lived in Washington. Going to Washington meant going uncomfortably close to New York City. “Excuse me? Could you repeat that in a way that doesn’t make my brain shut down in complete and total terror?”
“You don’t have to go to Washington for the formal event.”
“And he called you?”
“Well, your boss is currently in a territory dispute with his sister, and despite you being an FBI agent rather than a cop, I am your father, so he thought talking with me might cut through the bullshit.”
“I’m running away from home starting now.”
“Olivia, the President is expecting to see you at a formal event tonight. You can’t run away from home.”
At the rate my heart was pounding, I wouldn’t need to run away from home to get out of the formal event. I’d die of a heart attack. “I’m busy tonight.”
“Doing what?”
“Sleeping with your cop.”
Raymond choked, pulled over, and slumped over the steering wheel. The bastard laughed so hard he could barely breathe.
“Why are you laughing? Hey, stop laughing. This is not funny. Raymond, you asshole!”
My father chuckled. “I take it my cop isn’t on board with you sleeping with him?”
“Don’t you sound so smug about this, old man.”
“It’s a mandatory formal event. Wear a dress. Your mother’s already suckering me out of a designer gown, which she’s picking up tonight.”
“How the hell did she get a designer gown today when you only found out about this bullshit this morning?”
“Don’t ask me how your mother operates, Olivia. Try to wear something nice.”
“I have one dress, and it’s that Chinese one Mom foisted on me.”
“What happened to your other dresses?”
“I burned them in the last wildfire.”
“Why would you do that?”
The last time I’d dated, the jerk had goaded me into burning my entire dress collection. I figured if I had to go help extinguish wildfires, I could use them to my advantage first. “Some asshole said I’d be prettier if I wore dresses and smiled, so I burned all my dresses except that one because Mom would cry.”
“Hey, babe? Is the Chinese dress you gave Olivia suitable for formal? She burned the rest of her dresses because of a bad date.”
My bastard father was laughing at me. I could hear it in his voice.
My mother’s laughter, while faint, made it clear she found my misfortunes amusing.
“She says that one is fine for formal. Wear a pair of heels. If it makes you feel better, bring the cop along, assuming he’s not already running for the border. You’re allowed a plus one. We’re expected at eight.”
“Why didn’t you tell this to me earlier?”
“You would have done something, anything, to avoid being discharged.”
He was probably right. Grumbling a curse, I considered my options. None of them appealed. If I ran, someone would retrieve me and force me to the damned formal event. “But seriously, Dad? The President?”
“Sorry, baby. There’s nothing I can do. My hands are tied.”
I bet. My mother would kill him if she missed a chance to go to a serious formal event. “I’m hanging up on you, and I swear, the next Saturday you’re not working, you and Mom are making me a feast of every single food I like, I’ll be bringing a plus one, and you will feed me until I’m incapable of swallowing another bite.”
“We’re free Saturday. I need to work on your duck pen, anyway, so we’ll cook at your place.”
I grunted. “Fine. But I’m expecting at least one duck I don’t have to share with anyone.”
“Are you all right?”
“No, I’m not all right! You’re making me go to a formal event. That’s never going to be all right!”
“It starts at eight at Four Seasons. Don’t be late.” My father hung up.
Sighing, I returned Raymond’s phone to the center console. “We’re going to have to reschedule tonight’s seduction.”
“What sort of event is going on tonight?”
“The kind where a nice lady informed my father he needed to please hold for the President of the United States.”
“I’d say that’s a completely reasonable excuse for a seduction rescheduling.”
“Like hell it is. If I had a single choice in the matter, I’d be attending the seduction.”
He chuckled. “Thank you.”
I slumped in the seat and wondered if I could get away with making a run for the border. “How long would it take me to reach Mexico from here?”
“Driving, flying, or swimming?”
“The fastest way.”
“You don’t have your passport with you, so you can’t fly. I’m not driving you to Mexico, so you’d have to go swimming with the kraken again. It would take you longer than you have to reach Mexico.”
“Well, that’s just fucking fantastic.”
“I never would have guessed you have issues with formal events.”
“I have an issue with formal events when they involve the President. Actually, I have an issue with any event that involves the President. Hey, are you busy tonight at eight? Apparently, I can bring a plus one. It’s not as good as, say, a seduction, but it’s the best I can do.”
“I own a suit, but it’s not one suitable for formal events.”
“My dress technically isn’t good for formal events, either.”
“Well, as my plans for this evening have been unfortunately cancelled, I suppose I could be talked into attending a formal event with you.”
“Can we do the talking in bed at our next scheduled seduction?”
“As a matter of fact, yes. We can.”
“Maybe we should pull over and get the seduction out of the way now. At the rate we’re going, we’re never going to be in the house at the same time let alone able to go through with our seduction plan. This is a concern.” I straightened, wrinkling my nose at how we’d been thwarted thus far. “We might be cursed.”
“Don’t worry, Olivia. We don’t need to pull over to be able to have a seduction, and you deserve better than in the back of a police cruiser.”
“Are you nuts, Raymond? The back of a police cruiser is the stuff of fantasies, and I absolutely refuse to be ashamed of that.”
“It’s okay, Olivia. That one’s a two-way street, and I’m sure we can work to a mutually beneficial arrangement off some dirt road in the middle of the night or in the garage. I draw the line in broad daylight along a busy highway, though. I’m a lot of things, but I don’t share.”
“That’s fair. I don’t share, either.”
“Then it’s a date, but we won’t schedule that one. I’ll just have to put in some effort, lure you out into the country, and pull you over one night soon.”
“I’m not going to break any laws intentionally to get pulled over, just so you know.”
“This is a good thing. I’ll think of a reason to pull you over. And since you’re an FBI agent, I’ll have to search you.”
“Of course. I could be carrying a dangerous weapon somewhere on my person.”
He chuckled. “I look forward to seeing what sort of things you might be hiding on your person.”
After I survived the formal event, I needed to go shopping for lingerie suitable for such an adventure, pick up a nice thigh holster, and find a cheap dress destined to be ruined. “I’ll make sure to text you when I have to go somewhere late at night.”
“That sounds like a good idea. I approve.”
“Are they getting you a dog?”
“Not yet, but it’s in the works. They’re fighting over what kind of dog I get, debating how much training I need, and now that you’ve been located, if you’re getting a dog or if we’re going to share one.”
“Why would we share a work dog?”
Raymond shrugged. “No idea. I asked that question this morning on the way to the hospital, and nobody would give me a straight answer.”
“Cops are weird.”
“We are. FBI agents are weirder. You attacked a nuke.”
“It’s not my fault they dropped it right on my head. If they hadn’t dropped it right on my head, I wouldn’t have attacked it.” Probably. “I’m still pissed that fucking warlock teleported away.”
“We all are.”
“How many felonies do you think I committed attacking a nuke?”
“I honestly don’t know. I figure they would’ve arrested you rather than invite you to a formal event with the President of the United States if you had committed a felony.”
“You’re probably right.” I would’ve rather been arrested for a felony than deal with politicians and their groupies. “Are you sure running away isn’t an option? I’m too tired to attend a formal event tonight. I have three inches of medical files saying why I shouldn’t go to a formal event tonight.”
“I do think forcing you into a formal event is pretty cruel and unusual. And a punishment. You can barely walk without wincing.”
“I walked without wincing?”
“You didn’t, but I figured it sounded really bad if I just said you can barely walk.”
“Well, I can barely walk. By tonight, barely able to walk will be a crowning achievement.”
He sighed, waited for an opening, and got back on the road. “I’ll go with you, and if I feel you’re being too stressed or can’t handle it, I’ll take you home and tell the President to fuck off if he doesn’t like it.”
“That is the hottest thing a man has said to me in years.”
“I have to admit, I’m disturbed. Surely a man has said something hotter to you than that.”
“Well, let’s go get something to eat is pretty hot, but that’s about all I’ve got.”
“I’m concerned, Olivia.”
“I’d say it’s not my fault I’m such a stick in the mud while working too much, but it totally is.”
“I’m going to plan a very strenuous therapy regime I will expect you to follow.”
“I never thought I’d say I’m looking forward to a therapy session.”
“I’d try to play it off as being a gentleman, but I’m being very selfish and greedy right now,” he admitted.
I laughed. “I hope your therapy planning goes better than our scheduled seductions. Right now, all we’re doing is striking out.”
“I think we’ll be all right.”
I hoped so.
As promised, Raymond fed me as much Italian food as I could swallow without bursting at the seams. He drove us home, where I flopped onto my prized chair for a few hours. After he dragged me from my hard-earned nap, I entered my personal hell, which involved getting ready to attend the formal event. I needed Raymond’s help to wiggle into the damned dress, decorated with charcoal and black dragons entangled on a field of gold and bronze, and the bastard openly enjoyed the show.
“I had no idea it was so challenging for a woman to get into dresses. Had I known, I would’ve offered to help long ago. That dress fits you like a second skin.” Raymond ran his finger along my upper arm, giving the off-the-shoulder strap a tug. “Does this even do anything?”
“Beyond make my shoulders look sexy?”
“Well, yes.”
“I’m assuming it’ll keep my breasts in the dress where they belong for the entire evening.”
Raymond frowned, and he stared at the strap. I turned and pointed at my breasts, which the dress fully covered. “Breasts are here. You’re allowed to look at them. But you’re not allowed to remove them from the dress at this point in time.”
“I can’t tell if you or the dress is prettier.”
“Thank you. I’m going to ruin it when I try to limp in a pair of heels.”
“Don’t wear heels. Do you have a pair of shoes that matches that isn’t a torture device?”
“I do.”
“Wear those. What’s the plan for your hair?”
I raised my brows. “I have a plan?”
“You do now. Do you have bobby pins and a barrette?”
“I did at my apartment.”
“Then you do here somewhere. I helped your parents empty out your apartment over the week; it kept them from having a complete meltdown while waiting for news. Were they in your bathroom or bedroom?”
“Bathroom.”
“Then they’re in your bathroom now.” Raymond crossed the room and rummaged through the vanity drawers. He returned with my basket of hair accessories, picked a dragon brooch, and armed himself with a brush. With what I could only consider as a form of magic, he contained my hair so it went into hiding, as effective as a bun for getting it out of the way but a great deal more elegant.
Had I been in charge, I would’ve clipped it in the messiest bun possible and called it a day.
He used an obscene number of bobby pins to make sure my hair stayed in place, and only when he was satisfied did he add a layer of hairspray to ensure I’d need a lot of help to escape the hairstyle later.
“Where did you learn to do that?”
“I have sisters. As the older brother, it was my sacred duty to defend their hair at the cost of my life if necessary.”
“How many sisters do you have?”
How did someone with sisters become so traumatized around women? I needed to meet this ex-girlfriend of his and take a closer look at her. While I was taking a closer look, I’d have to give her a few good reasons to keep far away from Raymond. I could be a dragon just like the two idiots rampaging in the local wilderness, territorial over what I perceived as mine.
“Five.”
My mouth dropped open. “Five?”
“Annie is the eldest, and she inherited my father’s mother’s red hair, and it’s curly. It’s so curly my father swore the brat couldn’t possibly be his for years until Annie demanded proof she was, indeed, his. She is, for the record. She’s just a walking genetic mutation. Then there’s Sophie. She’s the girl version of me.”
“So, she’s drop dead gorgeous and you had to beat off boys when she was a teen?”
“Good and accurate guess. Then there’s Patricia. She’s a nurse, and she’s the kind of nurse who will send you home to mommy and daddy whimpering because she won’t give an inch. She’s good at her job, but she doesn’t tolerate any bullshit.”
“Is she looking for a new job? I always need a nurse like that on the medical team, and when I’m done with Eddy and my idiot boss, they’ll need some nursing.”
He laughed. “She’d turn the FBI upside down within a week.”
The FBI needed to be kept on its toes. “You say that like it’s a bad thing.”
“After Patricia, there are the twins, Janette and Joleen. They have, in their infinite teenage wisdom, decided they will become a journalist and a photographer. I haven’t had the heart to tell them they’re actually cops with an interest in the news.”
“I recognize that tone, Detective Davis. That’s the tone of someone determined to make sure those girls become cops.”
“It’s not my fault they’ve tried to follow me to work since I joined the force.”
I laughed. “Do they still do it?”
“Every chance they get. I give it a week before they realize I’ve moved to stage an invasion.”
My brows rose. “You haven’t told your family you’ve moved?”
“Nope.”
I blinked and tried to figure out what would happen if I tried that stunt with my family. “I feel like I’ve lost an epic opportunity to fuck with my father.”
Raymond smirked. “We can look into getting a vacation home and pretend we’ve moved there permanently the first time we skip town.”
Damn, when the detective decided on something, he went all in. Then again, with the steal I’d gotten on the property, a vacation home somewhere quiet and remote wasn’t out of the question. “Somewhere deep in the country near a lake?”
“As water elementalists do need exposure to their element to thrive, that seems like a reasonable request to me.”
“I have told you I’m essentially a terrible person, right? One that’s absolutely terrible at relationships? This seems somewhat important right now.”
“You’re not a terrible person, Olivia.”
“I missed our first scheduled seduction taking a nap at the bottom of the ocean. That qualifies me.”
He laughed and shook his head. “I have bad news for you. You’re unqualified to be a terrible person for that. I need to get changed, so put on a pair of shoes that won’t kill your feet, and if you decide to use makeup, it’s in your bathroom in the top vanity drawer.”
Formal events sucked. They especially sucked when I was forced to sit at the same table with the President of the United States, the First Lady, some hot-shot senator who had a crush on all things supernatural, and a congressman who wanted nothing more than to delve into the dark depths of nuclear research and development. The President and First Lady were yet to arrive, but according to the schedule, they’d be the last to show, which would officially begin the dinner.
I couldn’t help but wonder who had been evicted from the event venue to make space for the President and his pack of political goons.
Senator Camden wouldn’t stop staring at me, and Congressman Mandel licked his lips like I was the main course of his dinner.
I’d seen looks like his before, and unlike with Raymond, I wasn’t at all tempted to show off my legs. If anything, the guy gave me the creeps. Whenever I could get away with it, I glared at my father, who was safely seated with the local police chiefs.
Raymond leaned towards me and whispered, “You look ready to go over to your father’s table and indulge in a murder.”
“There’s a reason for that.”
“How much do you know about Mandel?”
It was never a good sign when the cop brought up a politician. When my old man started gossiping about politicians, it almost always involved speculations on their assorted crimes. “Enough to know I wouldn’t want to be caught in an alley alone with him while wearing this dress,” I whispered back.
“He’s a fire elementalist, so you can handle him, but your instinct is spot on. He’s a shameless womanizer.”
“That describes half of Washington.”
“Just be careful around him. And try to contain any urges to go murder your father or any of the chiefs and captains sitting with him.”
“If he didn’t look so damned smug, I wouldn’t be tempted to kill him.”
Raymond chuckled.
Senator Camden cleared his throat, and I wondered why men thought clearing their throats indicated they deserved my attention. While tempted to ignore the politician, I gave him my attention. I raised a brow and waited.
“Special Agent Abrams, what is your relation to Commissioner Abrams, if I may ask? You are a relative, are you not?”
I blinked, glancing at my father, who caught my gaze and smirked. I kept my urge to do something childish in check and forced a smile. “He’s my father.”
Both politicians stared at me with wide eyes.
“Yes, he’s actually my father. The woman seated with him is my mother. I take after her. My father is still terribly disappointed I opted to join the FBI rather than the force, but I’m a better fit in the FBI.”
Congressman Mandel stole a peek at my pet cop. “And Detective Davis is…?”
“He is my co-lead on the City Center Case and the representative for the local police. He became involved when one of his cases connected with the Oakland City Center case. He was assigned as my co-lead to keep the investigation efficient.”
If they wanted to find out we were living together, they’d have to do a lot more digging than that.
“I see.” According to Mandel’s tone, he lied through the tiny gap between his front teeth, but I played the game, ignoring his idiocy despite wanting to rise to the challenge. Toying with politicians ranked right up there with toying with the local police, but unlike the local police, I didn’t like the politicians.
“Were you questioning how a pure could possibly be useful on an investigation, or were you more wondering how someone of my rank within the force could fully contribute as a co-lead on a high-level investigation?” Raymond leaned back in his seat, his body language relaxed and his expression calm.
If he kept being so damned assertive, I’d be scheduling us in for a seduction in the nearest unoccupied and unmonitored room in the building.
“It’s hardly their fault they have forgotten magic is not a replacement for intellect, Detective Davis.” I allowed myself a smile. “In high-level investigations, magic can be a crutch, and having a full range of perspectives is invaluable. Try not to eat them alive. It’s difficult for those who have never participated directly in a serious investigation to understand what’s required.”
I enjoyed watching the two men process my words, and I recognized the moment I made two more enemies. I graced them with my sweetest smile, which only added fuel to the flames.
“Exactly so, Special Agent Abrams. If you would like to experience what it’s like to work on a high-level investigation directly, the Oakland City Case isn’t a wrap yet. We could probably find room for you somewhere.” Raymond looked the politicians over. “What investigative skills do you bring to the table, gentlemen? I understand you’re a fire elementalist of moderate strength, Congressman Mandel. I’m unfamiliar with your abilities, Senator Camden.”
The senator took his time looking us both over, and then he laughed and relaxed. “I recognize when I’ve been beaten at my own game. Well played, Detective Davis. I have zero investigative experience or skills, and I have no business judging actual investigators.”
I was tempted to run to my old man and tell him I’d found a politician capable of admitting his ignorance.
Congressman Mandel sighed. “All right. I can see when I’ve been outmaneuvered as well. That was well played. Why aren’t you a politician, Detective Davis?”
“Why would I want to be a politician? I have an important job, and my skills and talents would be wasted in politics.”
I grinned at Raymond. “Hey, that’s what I tell my old man when he asks why I’m not a cop.”
Raymond chuckled. “You’re not a cop because you’d take your old man’s job and force him into retirement. I haven’t figured out why you haven’t taken over your boss’s job yet.”
“My boss is more politician than FBI agent, that’s why. If I wanted to be a politician, I’d be a politician. Fortunately for the politicians, I have no desire to spend my days talking. I’d rather be doing.”
Both politicians sighed, and Congressman Mandel shook his head. “I want to say we didn’t deserve that, but we did.” The man’s gaze focused on something behind me. “The President and First Lady have just arrived. I was instructed to tell you we’re to remain seated. He said you were still recovering?”
“My current broken bone count is at fifty-three fractures, three major breaks, and a broken skull. I’ve been pieced back together with magic, but I appreciate not having to stand.”
The politicians winced at my injury report.
“She’s recovering from internal injuries as well.”
“I had no idea your health had been so severely compromised,” Senator Camden said, his brow furrowing. “We were under the impression you had sustained minor injuries.”
I turned to Raymond. “Do minor injuries require ten hours of emergency surgery?”
“Last time I checked, no.”
I shrugged. “Inaccurate information is the bane of all investigative work.”
On television, the President of the United States was a larger-than-life personality, a surprisingly young man who oozed charm and used it to his advantage. With his dark hair and pale eyes, he drew the eye with his looks, but the force of his personality held the most attention. Most men who rose to his rank did so in their mid-fifties, but President Jenson had launched his successful campaign several days after he had turned thirty-five. As the youngest man to hold the position, he’d created waves in the political world. Some called him too inexperienced for the job. Others envied his youth.
I had a few inches on him, and I’d never realized such a powerful man was vertically challenged.
President Jenson held out the chair for his wife before sitting. “Sorry we’re late,” he said, flashing a grin. “I wanted something more relaxed, but my social managers told me I had to do this right or I couldn’t do it at all. This was the best I could do considering the circumstances. Honestly, if given the choice, I would’ve swung by your home to meet you, Special Agent Abrams, but that was deemed too much of a security risk.”
I understood security and respected that, especially after Euthal had taken a walk through San Francisco after eliminating almost everyone capable of dealing with him.
“It’s quite all right, Mr. President,” I replied. “Welcome to San Francisco.”
“It’s a lovely city. As I’d rather be able to move onto more pleasant pursuits, let’s get the unpleasantries aside first.”
“Unpleasantries, Mr. President?” I refused to allow him to intimidate me. I only had enough room in my life for blind fear of one man, and Donners held the top spot.
“I’d like to hear from you, directly, about the warlock case. My intel is usually watered down for the sake of efficiency, and I suspect I’m missing large chunks of the story. I was told enough to justify the nuking order, but I feel I may be missing important information to help justify my actions to the general public.”
“Has there been an inquiry?”
“Of course. I was prepared to bomb a vibrant city to protect many more lives from this warlock. Has the issue with this warlock been defused?”
One day, I swore I would get my hands on Euthal, and when I did, I wouldn’t make any of my previous mistakes. At the first realistic chance, I would go for the kill without any hesitation. “I think he’s been defused for now. Will he remain defused? No. Considering how unfortunately durable he is, your judgment about using a bomb of that scale to eliminate him wasn’t flawed. However, if anyone survived that, you would run the risk of creating an even bigger threat.”
“I was assured that the bomb’s lethality rate would far surpass even New York.”
I’d grown so numbed to the discussion of nukes I didn’t even flinch at the mention of New York. “New York’s survival rate was very low, sir—and we’re more dangerous than even warlocks on a bad day. Would the risk have potentially been worth it? Potentially, yes. No one should have that sort of power at their disposal. It’s best if that magic he attempted to use remain lost.”
“You mean the statuette.”
“My statuette, yes. It’s legally mine. I will not authorize any studies being done to determine how to repeat the warlock’s actions. It took the life of an innocent woman to bring that power to life. As far as I’m concerned, no one should have access to that sort of ability. Euthal was able to take out how much of San Francisco in a matter of hours.”
“You make an excellent point, Special Agent Abrams. Tell me. What do you think happened to this power he used?”
I hadn’t seen any sign of Hypnos since he’d disappeared in Raymond’s cruiser. Perhaps I skirted the truth, but the truth was best left buried. “I don’t know, Mr. President. With luck, none of us will ever find out. For us, the best thing that can happen is that this power remains gone. I know I won’t be making any efforts to revive it.”
“What will you do with your statuette?”
I allowed myself a grim smile. “I’m debating between putting it on my bookshelf at home or dropping it into the deepest, darkest hole I can find. There’s a promising one in Russia.”
“Russia?”
“It’s a borehole located in Pechengsky. It’s over seven miles deep. I figure if I dumped it in there, no one would find it ever again. I figure I’ll just dump it on my bookshelf. It’s inert now, so unless it somehow becomes active again, it’s a very pretty but expensive reminder of what happened here.”
“I was told the statuette is still in the government’s possession.”
“They are permitted to run basic tests on the statuette to determine its properties. Beyond that, they require the owner’s permission for additional work. I will not be granting permission for the statuette to be tested.”
“Why not?”
“As I said, Mr. President, no one should have access to that sort of power. No one. At best, it’s a weapon of mass destruction. At worst, it’s a very quick way to bring ruin to cities. Any teleporter could repeat Euthal’s trick. Within the matter of as little as a few hours, a teleporter with that power could wipe out every major city in the United States. Let’s leave the statuette inert and an ornament on my bookshelf rather than the sort of weapon that would make the United States a threat to every other sovereign nation on the planet. Haven’t we learned our lesson with nuclear warfare?”
“It could be a useful tool,” President Jenson countered.
“Those affected are taken to a prison, where they have their life energy drained to fuel another’s power. They are tortured. The fewer number of people taken, the greater the torture is, but it does not change the fact that it is damaging to those who are influenced. One moment, you are conscious. The next, you’re a victim incapable of fighting against what has captured you. I was fortunate.”
“How so?”
“I have the right sort of magic to fight back against its influence. I was able to fight back. If you want to speak to some taken, it might change your opinion of how this power could be used as a weapon, but I will not take part in the torture of innocents.”
“See? This is exactly why I wanted to find out more from the source. Nothing in my files mentioned the victims being tortured.”
I couldn’t tell if President Jenson lied. “I’ve done that dance twice, and the second time, I spent a week at the bottom of the ocean recovering. Some powers are best left undisturbed. This is one of them. If I had to make the call, sir, I’d probably make the same choice you did, requesting a nuke to ensure that force could never be used again. That the bomb was a dud worked well. I held my own against Euthal this time. Next time? Who knows.”
“You seem confident there will be a next time.”
“Until he’s eliminated or gets what he wants, there’ll be a next time. In that, your choice to nuke was a wise one. Now, that said, I refuse to apologize for destroying the nuke.”
The President of the United States chuckled, and he relaxed in his seat. “Yes, well. I would be quite put out if someone had hit me in the head like that, too. You were rather offended over the bomber’s excellent aim.”
“I’ve been told there is a video.”
“There is. It was broadcasted on the news to reassure the public the threat had been dealt with.”
Great. That was the last thing I needed. “How did the public react, sir?”
President Jenson chuckled. “You’re a very popular lady right now, Special Agent Abrams. How does it feel to be an American hero?”
“Ask me next week after my collection of broken bones has a chance to heal.”
“I may just do that. Tell me. Special Agent Abrams. How would you feel about moving to Washington?”
Raymond’s gaze settled on me, and out of the corner of my eye, I was aware of him raising a brow.
I didn’t think on it more than a few moments. “As I’ve met my draft requirements, I would retire before moving to Washington, Mr. President. The life I want is here, and I do not value my career within the FBI enough to warrant a move to Washington. I do the work I do because I love my city, I love the people I work with, and I enjoy the work here. With all due respect, I would decline any offers of transfer.”
“Even if the transfer came with a substantial raise in salary, position, and power?”
“I have no need for any of those things, but I wouldn’t say no if my good performance earned me a raise for my work here.”
President Jenson nodded. “I respect your dedication. Perhaps understanding why might change your mind. Special Agent Donners will be retiring in the next few years, and you’re the ideal candidate to replace him. Your courage in the field and ability to work under extreme stress would make you invaluable in Washington.”
“The way I see it, Mr. President, I’m invaluable to California. My answer remains the same. I would refuse such a transfer.”
“I was told you would say that much. Washington is too close to New York, isn’t it?”
Somehow, I kept my expression neutral. “Yes, Mr. President, it is.”
“You’ve been back to New York since the bombing, or so says your file.”
“Necessity.”
“And what if I told you having someone of your caliber in Washington is a necessity?”
“Perhaps if you moved the post to somewhere else, like Oakland, California, you might be able to convince me to listen to your pitch, Mr. President. Until then, there are plenty of other capable individuals who would actually want the job. I respect Special Agent Donners a great deal, and I would not accept any amount of money to do his work.”
“He said you would say something along those lines, although he didn’t use such a favorable term regarding your opinion of him.”
“I have PTSD, Mr. President. He triggers it. That doesn’t mean I don’t respect the man.”
“He also didn’t mention you would be so upfront about your past traumas.”
“Times change, and so do people, but you could offer me all the money in the world, and I would not willingly transfer to Washington. Everything I want in my life is here, and money can’t replace that.”
President Jenson nodded, and he smiled. “Just as long as we have an understanding that I will continue to pursue this idea, as I believe it is in the country’s best interest to have someone like you replacing Special Agent Donners when he retires.”
“I understand, but that is not going to be sufficient to change my answer, Mr. President.”
“Truth be told, I would be disappointed if you were so easily convinced. Enough work. May I ask a question?”
“Of course, Mr. President.”
“How is it a woman like you is single?”
I struggled against my urge to laugh in his face and lost the battle. When I regained control of myself, I said, “For some reason, men get offended when they find out I’m prettier, smarter, and a harder worker than they are. Add that in to my tendency to miss dates because I’m working, it’s a forgone conclusion.”
Raymond snorted, but he didn’t expose our recent relationship status change.
“I see you find something amusing, Detective Davis?” President Jenson asked.
“Everything, sir. A piece of advice, if I may?”
“Of course.”
“Never underestimate Special Agent Abrams. Without fail, she will catch you by surprise.”
In Raymond’s case, I’d just catch him, but I wisely kept my mouth shut.
“I’ll keep that in mind, Detective Davis. So, from my understanding, you primarily focus your investigations on thefts?”
I breathed a sigh of relief that the table conversation focused on Raymond, wondering how I’d survive a whole evening of small talk and politicians.