“You wrote a story accusing empaths of controlling what people carve on their jack-o’-lanterns—”
“And,” she interrupted, barreling right through his complaint, “I’m not just a figurehead. I actually do write the—”
“I know.”
She paused. “What?”
“I know,” he repeated. “It’s the most frustrating thing about you. You’re completely sincere and super smart and you work really damn hard. I bet you even do the fancy computer website crap all by yourself.”
She blinked. “The coding?”
He snapped his fingers. “Right. That.” She was still staring at him. “Can I get to my car now, please?”
She opened her mouth, then closed it. And then it fell open in a gasp as Grayson appeared behind her and plucked the phone from her hand.
“Sorry, ma’am,” he said, in what was almost a polite tone, as he dropped the phone to the pavement, and stepped on it. “National security.”
Gretel’s eyes darted up to Grayson’s face, and Reece saw the storm of emotions warring inside her: outrage, curiosity, and despite everything, desire. Sheesh. Must be nice to look like Evan Grayson.
“Are you the Dead Man?” she finally asked, as guarded awe eventually won out over her other emotions.
“I’m afraid I can’t comment on that.”
She let out a tiny gasp. “You are,” she whispered. “Oh my God. I’ve got to go.” She hurried off, reaching into her coat pocket as she did.
Reece rolled his eyes.“I’m afraid I can’t comment on that,”he said, imitating Grayson’s deep voice and drawl. “You think you’re so mysterious.”
He stepped toward his car—when Grayson grabbed Reece by the wrist, over the glove, and jerked him forward and down against the hood of his own car. A second later, heavy handcuffs closed around his wrists with a snap.
“We have a problem, Mr. Davies.”
Reece’s spinning head hadn’t caught up to his sudden cuffs. Grayson had moved sofast, maybe even as fast as Jamey. And he’d gotten Reece down without ever touching him anywhere but the gloves.
“Are you mad that I left?” Reece carefully stayed completely still on the hood. Heprobablywouldn’t hurt Grayson if he tried to squirm away, but much better not to even take the chance. “I’m not your fanboy or sycophant like Gretel; I’m not going to blindly follow you when you’re being an idiot.”
“The other problem.”
“What, that you put cuffs on me and didn’t buy me dinner first?”
“Really?” Grayson said dryly. “You’re gonna sass me right now?”
Reece could feel one hand on his gloved wrists, no other points of contact. “Are you sure you’re holding me down securely enough?”
“Don’t start this with me.”
“You’re barely touching me and these handcuffs are very loose. Don’t you know if you did this to someone else, they might be able to wrench your arm and escape? Kick you in the shins? You could get hurt, Agent Grayson.”
“Mr. Davies—”
“But if you were holding them down tighter, you might hurtthem, and I don’t like that either. You know what, none of this is safe for anyone involved—”
“You can cut theinnocent empathact.” Grayson leaned over Reece. He still wasn’t touching him anywhere but the gloves, but the move brought him closer to Reece’s ear, and for fuck’s sake this was an arrest, Reece was absolutelynotgoing to think about Grayson getting closer. He was Team A, dammit. “I’m not falling for it.”
“Whatact?” Reece demanded. “And what problem do we—”
“I just saw in the elevator that you can use empathy without touch. Did you think I’d watch you skip out of Hathaway’s building when you’re hiding something like that?”
Reece’s stomach plummeted. How did he know? Reece had been so careful not to let on about hearing lies.
