Edge of Danger (30 page)

 
He paused, aware by the rapidity of his heartbeat that Eden was approaching. Fear tasted metallic on his tongue. “You want to know what we should do?” he repeated hoarsely as the handle turned on the door across the room. “Anything,
everything
we can, to stop him.”

 
Fucking hell. This new development was going to have to take precedence over the situation with the new group of terrorists having the bot. A rogue wizard on the loose would have far-reaching effects.

 
But Jesus, so would the bot in the wrong hands.

 
Both situations were critical.

 
At least Eden is safe under my roof.

 
Or, God help them, was the castle the most dangerous place of all
? Gabriel wondered with a sense of dread.

 
The door opened to admit a tall, angular man with military short, graying hair and wearing a badly cut black suit that screamed Fed. He closed the door firmly behind him and walked into the center of the room.

 
The older man glanced between Gabriel and Tremayne. “Mr. Edge?” At Gabriel’s nod, the man stepped forward. He did not extend a hand, and neither did Gabriel; instead, he slid his hand into his inside pocket and withdrew a leather folder. “Walter Dixon, Department of Homeland Security. My credentials.” He flipped open the brown leather wallet to display his official shield.

 
“Your—butler?—has gone to find Dr. Cahill.” He glanced briefly at Sebastian. “May I talk freely?”

 
“Go ahead,” Gabriel leaned against the drinks table, not offering the older man either a drink or a chair. This wasn’t a social gathering. A T-FLAC jet had brought him directly from Tempe, where he was still investigating the theft of the robot, to a nearby landing strip in short order. Eden needed to talk to someone she trusted. Because he’d interviewed her half a dozen times, Walter Dixon was that man.

 
There was something about Dixon Gabriel didn’t quite like, but he couldn’t put his finger on it. Dixon was a typical agent type, bland and unremarkable. Nothing suspect about his behavior in any way. The knife-ironed crease in his pants broke over highly polished black wingtips. His nails were clean and neatly trimmed, his hair short. He smelled slightly of sweat and licorice. So the man was human and had a sweet tooth. Neither was a punishable offense.

 
He searched Dixon’s pale blue eyes, but all he saw was average intelligence, and a dronelike disinterest in the opulent surroundings. But Gabriel trusted his own instincts, and if he didn’t like Dixon, eventually he’d know why.

 
“Anything new on the murder and the theft?” he asked, knowing that T-FLAC would have any solid evidence long before any government agency.

 
“No, sir. Not yet. But we are hopeful that we will have something very soon.”

 
Yeah, right.
“The reason we requested your presence here,” Gabriel said easily, “was to allay Dr. Cahill’s misgivings about giving T-FLAC all the relevant data to build a second Rx793 robot. Once you’ve done that I’ll have you back on a return flight to resume your investigation in Arizona.”

 
Returning his ID to an inside pocket, Dixon frowned. “Why does T-FLAC want to duplicate Dr. Cahill’s robot? We imagine that the prototype is now on the open market. What good will producing yet another do to help that situation? Can it be trained to search for its predecessor? I’m not sure I understand the logic, Mr. Edge. And frankly, I’m not sure I approve of duplicating the Rx793, even if that were possible.

 
“As I’m sure you are aware, all of Dr. Cahill’s notes were taken the night Dr. Kirchner was killed. Are you saying she has access to some of that data now? That she can indeed rebuild the robot from memory?”

 
“I’m not saying that at all,” Gabriel answered easily, sensing her approach although he couldn’t hear the tapping of her high heels on the stone floor out in the hallway yet. He imagined her halfway across the entry hall as his heart did calisthenics.

 
“It’s not for you to approve or disapprove,” he informed Dixon. “Your sole function here is to dispel any doubts Dr. Cahill might have as to the function and validity of T-FLAC.”

 
“I think I should take the young lady back to Arizona and put her into protective custody, as I’ve suggested to her before.”

 
What had kept Eden safe in Tempe, Gabriel thought savagely, was
his
safety spell. “She is in protective custody,” he said smoothly, pushing himself away from the table.
“Mine.”

 
He crossed the room, and opened the door just as Eden and MacBain arrived on the other side. He gave her a cool glance. “Come in.”

 
She didn’t look happy to see him.

 
The short length of time since she’d left this room had been just long enough for Eden to get a grip on her temper. She didn’t object to
losing
her temper. She’d always been good at debate and found a good argument exhilarating. Unfortunately, her loss of temper usually coincided with those blasted tears. And she’d sacrifice the joy of arguing with Gabriel if it meant that she didn’t have to show him any vulnerability whatsoever.

 
She had a feeling he’d see vulnerability as weakness. And while she might be many things, weak wasn’t one of them. Gabriel Edge was going to learn that she was no pushover.

 
No matter how incredible the sex might be.

 
As soon as she walked into the room he retreated behind a sofa table. She smiled at Special Agent Dixon, extending her hand as he met her halfway. “Thank you for coming on such short notice.”

 
Shaking her hand a little too firmly, he made eye contact, and said meaningfully, “I’m glad you had the foresight to ask for me, Dr. Cahill.”

 
Eden was relieved to see his familiar face. He looked exactly like a government agent was supposed to look. Safe, bland, and unobtrusive. Even if he hadn’t been a good fifteen years past the prime of his fitness, he didn’t have a chance at being noticed. Not when he was flanked by Gabriel and Sebastian. Gabriel dwarfed him with more than mere size. It was in his attitude; the way Gabriel carried himself practically dripped confidence and assertiveness. Dixon, well, he seemed like a guy hovering right at the midpoint on the success scale.

 
“I can’t tell you how relieved I was when I got the call from Mr. Edge,” Dixon said flatly, still holding her gaze. “We’ve been looking for you since you—ran off yesterday.”

 
“I didn’t run exactly.” Eden said dryly.

 
Dixon smoothed the thinning strands of his gray hair back into place in a vaguely familiar gesture. “Mr. Edge explained your concern about the advanced capabilities of the robot, and that he convinced you to—”

 
“Hold that thought, Agent,” Eden said, her eyes locking with Gabriel’s. “Mr. Edge, may I have a word with you, please?” She pointed toward the massive wooden doors. “Outside?”

 
Brushing past the Homeland Security agent, she walked to the door and impatiently waited for Gabriel to step out into the hallway. “You told him that I withheld information on Rex?” she demanded.

 
“I told him nothing of the sort. He’s fishing,” Gabriel said almost absently, his expression dark and unreadable. For a moment, Eden saw something. Distraction? Knowing that she didn’t have his full attention, especially on something this important, sent a flash of anger through her.

 
“I won’t give you any more information unless, and until, I’m convinced you are who and what you say you are. That doesn’t include you coaching Dixon before I have a chance to ask the first question.”

 
“I didn’t coach him, I made his flight arrangements.” Gabriel glanced down at his watch. “Something’s come up. I’ve got a meeting in about forty-five minutes. Ask Dixon whatever it is you need to ask so we can get on with the mental extraction and get this over with.”

 
Eden shivered. Mental extraction might be run-of-the-mill to Mr. Wizard, but it sounded like a pretty big violation from her vantage point. She tilted her head back in order to look directly into his smoky eyes. The determination was ever-present, but there was more.

 
New layers hinted at concern, no, it was more than concern darkening his eyes to ink. Her heartbeat skipped. Something ominous spiced the air in an almost tangible way around him. The unspoken danger made the hair on the back of Eden’s neck stir.

 
She put a hand on his forearm. He felt warm and solid. It would have been comforting if he’d put his arm around her. But she didn’t suggest it. Just the fact that he didn’t move out of reach helped. “Did you hear something about Rex? Has something bad happened?” She used the term “bad” loosely. It covered a multiple of possible sins.

 
“No, why?” Something in his expressionless face sent a shiver down Eden’s spine.

 
“You look
strange.
” She dropped her hand from his arm, because while he hadn’t shaken it off, he wasn’t exactly encouraging her touch either. She wrapped her arms around herself. “Something’s happened, I sense it.”

 
His lips curved. “The powers don’t rub off, Eden.”

 
“Not sense as in
supernatural,
I just meant I can tell by your expression that
something’s
happened. What?”

 
“I’m not sure yet. Hence, the meeting. A very important meeting, so could you move this little Nancy Drew thing of yours along?” He started to go back into the library.

 
“No.” She reached out to grab his arm, but he moved quickly to avoid her touch this time. It was a neat, if damned annoying trick. She wished his physical rejection didn’t hurt her as much as it did. “Not with you in there with us.”

 
Gabriel gave her a mild look. “What do you think I’m going to do? Turn him into a frog?”

 
“Could you?” she asked, distracted by the notion for a second. “Never mind. I want him to speak freely with me about you. In my experience, people often couch their remarks differently when said subject is looming large a few feet away.”

 
“You have an incredible ability to overcomplicate things. Know that?”

 
She smiled sweetly. “So I’ve been told. Humor me, Gabriel. Summon MacBain, please.”

 
“I don’t have a lot of time. Definitely not enough to serve high tea to a Feeb. I’ll have MacBain make up a picnic basket for the agent. He can take it with him when he leaves.”

 
“I’m not asking either of you to cater my chat with Dixon. I simply want MacBain—whom I trust—to stand watch over you, right here, while I speak with the agent. In private.”