Part 9

Something was wrong with Tacy. Tate didn't know what, but he was sure something was. Lately she had been more moody and snappy, not the quiet, shy girl he'd first rescued.

He wondered if he'd done something to upset her, but as far as he knew he hadn't. He'd tried to be polite and understanding, putting up with her constant flirting, but not giving in.

Was that what was bugging her? That he wasn't interested in her in anyway but for a friend? He had Gabrielle. Grated, Gabrielle wasn't the nicest person in the world, but she was his soulmate, they'd get used to each other.

As he sat alone in his darkened room that night, Gabrielle was on his mind. He hadn't heard a word from her since she started the assignment.

No one had given him any sort of message or anything, indicating that she was getting on with it, or...

He refused to think the worst. There was no way that she would melt back into that bastard's arm. She wouldn't do that to him. He thought he knew her that well, at least.

He hadn't realised he was pacing, or heard the door open, until he felt slender arms slid around his waist from behind, cool lips kissing his neck gently. A shiver ran up his spine.

"Uh, Tacy? What are you doing?" he asked, trying to pull away. Tacy's arms only tightened.

"You won't ever have to think about Gabrielle again," she said in a soft, sultry voice. What happened to her scared little-girl act?

Tate's eyes closed. He'd fallen for it. Mentally he kicked himself for being such an asshole. If only he wasn't so optimistic he should have obeyed Thierry's rule and killed her the minute she started acting suspicious.

Now it was too late.

"Oh? And why's that?" he got out.

Tacy laughed, throaty and deep. "Because I'm going to kill you."

"Oh."

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