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But as he rose into the air, he glanced once more at Iris. She had her pistol pointed at him, head bent slightly, probably checking her sights.

Though the clinic was the opposite direction, he flew toward her. She slowly lowered her gun.

By the time he reached the bridge, her eyes were wide, her lips parted. “Officer Connor.”

“Officer Meldeere. What the fuck are you doing out here?” He might be obsessed with her and he’d definitely engaged in way too many fantasies about her, but she was still a witch with a gun.

“Got a call that some Border Patrol officer was out of control near Amado Bridge.”

“Do I look out of control?”

Her gaze fell to the woman. “No. You don’t.”

“Guess you won’t be shooting me, then.”

She shook her head. She looked amazing, a flush on her cheeks. H

er eyes glittered as she stared at him.

If he didn’t know better …

Fuck this. He whipped around and flew swiftly toward the clinic. He had to find some damn way of getting Iris out of his head.

He just didn’t know how.

He also needed to find out who had sent Tammy drug-running in the western sector of his territory.

~ ~ ~

Iris holstered her Sig. Her arms and legs trembled but it wasn’t from fear. Damn Connor. He’d just proven himself all over again, helping a woman like that.

And she’d forgotten how blue his eyes were.

She could hardly breathe and all she’d done was look at him and exchange about a half-dozen words. He wore the usual black tank, so his tattoos stood out like beacons. He was heavily muscled like all the Border Patrol men. How many times had she wondered if both hands together would fit around one of his biceps?

Fortunately, now that he was no longer next to her, she could think again. She looked around. On Trib orders, she’d left her garden, her owl and the potions she needed to make to fill her orders, but for what? She didn’t get it. Why had Donaldson wanted her witnessing Connor’s supposed crime?

The situation was just weird enough to force her to ask the harder questions: Who had really sent her out to Amado Bridge? And if the purpose had been to kill Connor, then why? And why her?

She turned the key in her bike and revved up her Harley once more. She took off, loving the strong vibrations on her bottom as she swept onto the street, heading toward Del Muerto Bridge. Del Muerto was one of the five main bridges of her world and connected Crescent with the dead-talker province of Shadow Territory.

With her long hair in a ponytail, she enjoyed the feel of the night wind as she moved along. She only had to head over to the Tribunal building and fill out a report, then she could return to her workroom.

In the meantime, she loved riding.

When she was well into the land of dead-talkers, whipping through some backstreets and racing over several smaller bridges, her com buzzed. She pressed her shoulder transmitter. “Meldeere.”

She heard Faith’s voice. “We’ve got a … out on Sentinel Bridge. The … Donal … wants you … now.”

She repressed a sigh. The Tribunal meant well, but dammit, couldn’t they invest in a decent com system? “Say again?”

After three more repeated requests, she finally got the gist. There was some kind of incident on Sentinel Bridge which connected Connor’s Territory and hers.

And once more, the chief wanted her out there. She almost asked Faith why, but figured she’d get the same response.

“On my way.”

“Say …” More static then a lot of broken up words.

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