Pasco sighed. “You tactical operatives are going to be the death of me. At least do me one favor. Wear your Aura ring tonight.”
The ring was like a mini-computer, sending biometric and GPS information about the operative wearing it directly to HEAT HQ. Putting it on meant I’d be giving the agency permission to track me, even though I was off the clock. It was a pain in the ass, but Pasco wasn’t wrong. There were too many unknowns about the situation that X wasn’t sharing with me, and it was a good idea to have some level of backup. But I couldn’t give in that easily.
“I’ll wear it on one condition,” I said. “A couple of times tonight, do a surveillance sweep based on my GPS. Be sure you get a good picture of Gage and me on a street cam. And include the photo when you submit your daily reports to X.”
“Jesus, Kat, I hope you know what you’re doing.”
“I do.” I was grabbing a tiger by the tail. But if I was going to do my job right, I needed to force X to bring me in from the cold.
CHAPTER 8
GAGE
It was Kat’s first Christmas in New York, which meant she had a lot to see. The touristy stuff was a given, but anyone could point her to Rockefeller Center to ice skate and see the stories-tall Christmas tree, horse-drawn carriage rides through Central Park, and the over-the-top department store decorations. As her self-appointed neighborhood guide, I wanted to start with joys a little closer to home.
Since Mr. Whiskerbottom Fuzzypants was only up to tolerating twenty minutes alone before screaming bloody murder, Kat packed him into his carrier with its bubble window, and I hoisted the furry astronaut onto my back. We left the apartment building at dusk so we could see the lights that were strung up in apartment windows just coming to life. A cold front had blown in early that afternoon, and our breath puffed out in front of us.
“Do you think he’s warm enough?” Kat asked when we were just one block from home.
I found it more than a little adorable that she worried about him so much. “Little dude has a fur coat, and he’s not yelling, so I think he’s fine.”
“Oh, good.” Her shoulders visibly dropped as the tension eased out of them.
“Are you warm enough?” I asked. “I should have brought a thermos of hot chocolate. I have a great recipe, if you like spices.”
“If you’re offering to make that for me, I’ll take you up on it.”
Was I offering? No, I was not. Or at least, I shouldn’t be. Maybe I was.
“But I’m plenty warm.” She patted the arm of her teal blue thigh-length jacket. “Insulated for downhill skiing.”
“Of course. Switzerland. This weather is child’s play for you.” We turned a corner and got hit by a wind tunnel between tall buildings. I shivered.
“Looks like you need to worry about yourself, my white knight.” She grinned and glanced at my black leather jacket, which was fully lined for winter weather, at least when it stayed above forty degrees Fahrenheit. “I’ll text you a link to a website that sells real winter gear.”
I had other ways I’d rather she keep me warm, but I didn’t mention them. I couldn’t. Or could I? I’d been mulling my no-sex-in-the-building rule since Monday night, and I was beginning to see loopholes.
“Speaking of Switzerland,” I said, “it sounds like you traveled a lot for your job when you lived there.”
“I did.”
“So, is all that different now that you’re living in New York?”
“No. This holiday break is just a temporary reprieve.” She glanced at the cat on my back. “Unfortunately, that’s the nature of the life I’ve chosen. Almost everything is temporary.”
I hoped that wasn’t true for this poor foster cat. I immediately began thinking of ways I could help her make it work if she wanted to keep him. But that was the kind of thing a boyfriend would do, so it was none of my damn business. As for the rest of it, a temporary situation forced by her job was the technicality I needed.
I focused on our outing with renewed vigor. Our first stop was three blocks from our front door. The little trailer parked along the curb had two customers at their window.
“Roasted chestnuts?” she asked. “That’s really a thing?”
“That’s really a thing, but not just in New York. You’ve never had them in Paris or some other European city?”
She shook her head. “No, but I guess I never looked for them. Have you had them in Europe? Maybe in Paris?”
The line had moved quickly, and we were up next, so it was easy to ignore her question. I held up two fingers and handed over some bills to the man taking orders, and immediately received two brown paper sacks from the woman next to him. I handed one bag to Kat.
“They’re hot,” I warned her. I opened my bag to let the chill of the night air cool them faster.
