Jonathan Byrne looked up as they entered. The impact of his gaze stopped her so suddenly Gabriel had to do a quick step around her. In the intense depths of Byrne’s blue eyes, well beneath the sharp amusement, there was a calculating iciness that boded ill. But she sensed that Gabriel, more than she, wasn’t going to like whatever it was his twin had to say.
The door slammed shut behind them, and a faint buzzing ran across the silence. Voice scramblers, she thought, surprised.
“What the hell are you up to?” Gabriel stalked to the desk and stared at his brother. His voice held no respect. No wonder Byrne had the scramblers up.
“I told you a while ago that I wanted you to have a partner—that these missions of ours, both here and with the Federation, were far too dangerous to continue with alone.” Byrne’s gaze went from Gabriel to her, then back again, and a smile touched his thin lips. “And now, I believe, I have found you the perfect partner.”
“I work alone. I always have, and always will.” Gabriel hesitated and glanced around at her. “No offense.”
“None taken.” Sam stepped up beside him. “I have absolutely no desire to join the ranks of the spook squad, so you can transfer me right back upstairs.”
“Gabriel, you have no choice. And you didn’t volunteer, my dear; you were drafted. We will begin your training straight away.”
“No you won’t, because I’ll quit if you don’t transfer me back.”
“We both know that’ll never happen, because you have no life beyond your job, so let’s not pretend.”
Damned if he wasn’t right. She was stuck, and they both knew it. And in some ways, being here was better than being up in State. She might have been cleared of Jack’s murder, but people hadn’t forgiven her. Whether or not she was in the right,
she’d still shot the man she’d thought was her partner. She’d stepped over that line, and there was no going back now.
Byrne leaned forward, crossing his arms on the desk. “You worked so well together. I saw it, Gabriel—at the house and at the shuttle port. There’s an instant understanding between you, something rare and precious. Sam obviously has talents that are still developing, and she will need monitoring, while you, my brother, have talents you refuse to explore. Together, I think you will make quite a lethal combination.”
They stared at him in silence. There was little else they could do.
He smiled again. “I’ll take your silence as acceptance. Now, get the hell out of my office and go do some work.”
Gabriel glanced down at her, his hazel eyes as cold as the Antarctic, then turned and walked from the room. She had no choice but to follow. She’d lost one job and gained another—and a new partner in the process. Some days, you just couldn’t win.
“This is great,” Gabriel muttered as he strode along the hall. He ran a hand through his hair and glanced back at her. “Nothing personal, of course. I just prefer working alone.”
“Which is not a current option.”
“There’s always another option,” he shot back, “and always a way around orders.”
“He won’t send me back upstairs. You heard him say that.”
“And I won’t work with a partner.” His gaze was almost challenging, as though she were somehow a threat to him.
She raised an eyebrow and wondered what the hell she was missing. “It’s not like either of us has much of a choice. Why not accept it gracefully and just get on with whatever it is we’re supposed to do?”
“What I’m supposed to do now is take you downstairs and register you for training, which I will. But nothing more. You and I will never work together.”
“Why not? I mean, we did work well together, didn’t we?”
He didn’t even bother glancing at her. “Yes, but that doesn’t alter my decision.”
He strode off. She had no choice but to follow. “What the hell have you got against having a partner?”
“It’s not about you. It’s about partners in general.”
Which really didn’t explain a whole lot. Nor did it really matter, because they were both stuck with the situation, and there was no other option than to put up with it the best they could. He would see sense, sooner or later.
Besides, unwanted or not, there was one good thing about her being drafted into the SIU. Their computers had far greater access to secure records than the State Police computers did. Maybe here she could uncover the truth about her being dumped at the orphanage. Maybe here she could finally uncover the truth about the past she couldn’t remember.
And she wouldn’t let one stubborn assistant director, intent on not having her as a partner, stop her journey of self-discovery.
By Keri Arthur