The Enemy Within (Daughters of the People Series Book 3) (3 page)

She was
rummaging through the fridge for supper when the doorbell rang, startling her,
and immediately a flush heated her cheeks.

Bobby
.

She hurried to
open the door. He stood on the other side looking as casual and confident and
dangerous as he had that morning.
Run, run, run
, her heart urged as it
beat double time in her chest. She ignored it and stepped back to let him in.

“Sorry,” she
said as she shut the door behind him. “I forgot you were coming by.”

“Well, that put
me in my place.” He set the bags he was holding on the kitchen counter and
started pulling containers out. “I thought you might be pining for company by
now.”

“No,” she said,
then winced. Butterflies danced in her stomach, so she took a deep breath, hoping
against hope for them to calm. “I mean, I’ve been too busy to pine for anything
today.”

“So I see.” His
eyes darted around the room, and she felt a moment of pride that she’d managed
to set the apartment mostly to rights before his arrival. “Looks like there’s
not much left to do.”

“Oh, well,
there’s still lots of work.” She busied her hands with the bags he’d brought,
pulling out cartons of food and placing them on the counter. “I don’t even have
a couch or a bed yet. Haven’t decided if I really want a TV. What kinds of
channels can you get on cable here?”

She glanced up
when he didn’t answer. He was watching her with an intensity that jangled her
nerves. “Or I could try satellite,” she finished lamely.

“There are other
options.” His gaze held hers for another moment before he broke it and turned
to the cabinets. “Where are the plates?”

“To the left of
the fridge.”

She pulled out
silverware and serving spoons, helped him dish out food on two plates and pour
tall glasses of chilled sweet tea. They sat at the rickety table she’d been
carting with her from place to place for nearly a century and a half, one of
the few pieces she’d kept over the years, simply because it held so many
memories.

Bobby talked her
through the pros and cons of cable, satellite, and Internet access while they
ate, and teased her gently when she confessed to not being a huge fan of
television programming. She relaxed gradually until it seemed like the most
natural thing in the world to sit next to a handsome, lethally sexy man, sharing
a meal and a long, winding conversation.

Their talk
eventually turned to local gossip, then to their families, before hitting a
personal topic.

“So, when’s your
mother due?” Bobby sat back and pushed his plate away, unfolding his mile long
legs under the table.

“A few weeks.” Indigo
scooted her legs out of the way to make room for him. “We’re all hoping for a
boy.”

“I bet.” He
nudged her legs gently with his own under the table. “Your mom will be happy to
have you near.”

“I hope so. India’s
made it a little hard on her.”

“Mmm. She was
always so bitter.”

“That’s one word
for it.” She stood, fighting the restless unease that filled her whenever she
thought of her twin, and gathered their plates. “When Mom became mortal and
married Glen, India flipped out. Apparently, she screamed at Mom about being
weak or some nonsense and Mom kicked her out.”

Bobby rose and
followed her to the sink. “I bet that was something to see.”

“I’m glad I
missed it.” Indigo took a deep, soothing breath as she boxed up the leftovers
and stowed them in the fridge. “They’ve always been at odds with one another,
fighting over every little thing. That’s what it felt like when we were growing
up, anyway.”

He leaned against
the counter and rested his hands against the edge. “And you hid in your books.”

She glanced at
him, astonished. “How did you know?”

“I know you.”

“No,” she said
with a shake of her head, and eased back at the dangerous glint in his eyes.

“Yes, I do, and
if you don’t stop running from me, I’m gonna start chasing you.”

Her heart jumped
into her throat and excitement thrummed along her skin. “I’m not running.”

“Indigo.” He
touched a finger gently to her mouth, traced the line of her lower lip before
letting his hand fall back to his side. “You can lie to everybody else. Don’t
lie to me.”

“I’m not…” She
sucked her lip into her mouth to try to quell the tingle his touch had caused,
and only made it worse. “This is silly.”

“Yes, it is.”

His agreement
held no rancor, though his body was stiff, ready, and his hazel eyes glittered
and bored into her, tracking every single movement she made as if he were
waiting to pounce.

This must be
what a rabbit felt like when it faced off against a hound.

She ran water in
the sink to wash the few dirty dishes instead of using the dishwasher, and
struggled to calm her sudden nerves. “Why did you decide to come back to
Tellowee?”

His expression
relaxed into a knowing half-grin. “Same reason as you. Dad’s MS has been a problem
over the past few years and Mom needed help.”

“I thought it
was getting better.”

He opened
drawers until he found a dish towel and slung it over his shoulder. His hands
were quick and competent as he rinsed the dishes she washed, and a little
flutter went through her. What else would those hands do well?

“It comes and
goes, but sometimes, they need an extra hand. Charlotte helps out when she
can.”

“But she’s got
the babies.”

“Gorgeous, sweet
babies, but they’re a handful, and since our other sisters are gone more often
than not…” He shrugged, a casual lift of one muscled shoulder. “I needed to be
near family when I got out of the Army, so here I am, helping out where I can.”

Her heart melted
a little at his admission. “That’s very sweet of you.”

“Hardly.”

She peered at
him and saw a slight tint of red on his cheeks. “Are you blushing?”

“No.”

His voice was
just shy of sullen. She bit her lip against the amusement bubbling up. “What
was that you said about not lying?”

“Har.” He
checked his watch and pressed his lips into a hard line. “I have to go. Early
meeting.”

“Oh.” She’d just
gotten used to having him around. “Thanks for supper.”

“Any time.” He
dropped the dish towel over the drainer and cupped her shoulders with his
strong, warm hands.  “In fact, I vote we do this again tomorrow.”

“Can’t,” she
said, and tried to quell the honest regret she felt, along with the flood of
sensation his touch caused. “Girls’ night out.”

“Wednesday,
then,” he said, his voice firm.

“Furniture
shopping.” When his eyes narrowed, she added meekly, “In the afternoon.”

“Come by the
office when you’re ready and I’ll go with you. No buts,” he said when she
protested and brushed his lips across her forehead. “Lock up behind me.”

She walked him
out, half afraid he’d try more than a soft kiss, and sagged with disappointment
against the closed door when he didn’t even hug her.
No,
she told
herself firmly as she straightened.
You’re happy he didn’t try to do
anything. Happy, not disappointed.

She finished
straightening up from their meal, made ready for bed, and settled into her
sleeping bag with
Jane Eyre
.

And stared
blankly at the book, her imagination caught by the kiss yet to come.

Bobby jangled
the keys in his hand, flipping them around on one finger as he mulled over the
meeting he’d just left. When his mother had given him the names of suspected
traitors to the People, he’d decided to take an individual approach to each
one, in particular Isolde, a member of the Council of Seven, the People’s
ruling body.

He’d been raised
to understand that dealing with a councilmember should be done carefully, no
matter what the reason. Instead of handling her on his own, he’d approached Hawthorne,
an elder who was Isolde’s aunt, to at least lay some groundwork. Hawthorne had
allowed him his say under her carefully impassive gaze, then said
no
in
a voice as cold and dead as the dark side of the moon.

Given her
reputation, he was lucky she hadn’t separated his head from his body on sight.

The elevator
dinged, the doors opened, and people spilled out on their way to lunch. Bobby
stepped inside, punched at the button for the floor housing BDH, and studied
the lighted numbers marking the elevator’s progress.

Hawthorne would
eventually come around. She’d been halfway there when he’d left, though he
wasn’t entirely sure if that was because he’d poured on the charm or if she was
getting soft in her old age.

His lips twitched
into a smirk. Not that he’d dare call her
old
, especially when she
appeared to be about his age, if that. Immortal Daughters tended to be a little
sensitive about their age, and he liked his head right where it was.

His humor faded
abruptly, taking his mood with it. He’d learned the hard way just how touchy
Daughters could be about their age, especially when faced with a potential
suitor. Indigo had pushed him away quickly enough. Sixteen was young, yeah, but
he’d been a man in the eyes of the People when he’d tried to claim her the
first time, a claim that would’ve been legal and binding to his mother and
hers. Among the People, those permissions were the most important. Not much
else mattered when a Son united his life with a Daughter.

He shrugged his
left shoulder, stretched his fingers over his collarbone, brushing the top of
the tattoo hidden by his shirt. Permission was one thing. That tattoo was
another. It forever marked him as the husband of a Daughter, claimed through
love or, in his case, the drunken recklessness of a man who’d had his heart
ground under the heels of a woman who hadn’t wanted him.

It had taken him
the better part of a decade to come to terms with Indigo’s rejection, to work
out the anger and hurt. They were still there, waiting to pounce, but over
time, he’d found a way to chain them back so they didn’t eat at him every
single moment. He’d spent years atoning for the damage he’d done trying to exorcise
that pain. His past would always haunt him, nothing he could do about that,
though he and it had made an uneasy truce, sort of.

His mind drifted
to the conversation he’d had with his mother the day she’d hired him to track
down those who may have betrayed the People. She’d been spot on when she’d said
he felt he wasn’t good enough for a woman’s love.
Indigo
. His heart lurched
in his chest. Mom had said he had to find a way to deal with the past or it
would eat the heart out of him, but he knew the truth. His heart was still there,
even if it was battered and filthy from the things he’d done after Indigo
rejected him. It was there, and it still belonged to her.

He’d asked her
to stop by today, to let him tag along while she shopped for furniture, and he
recognized his request for what it was: A pathetic attempt to be a part of her
life, in whatever small way she would have him. He would settle for friends, if
that’s all they could be, and not wish for more. He didn’t deserve more, no
matter what his mother thought. Maybe before he’d let his emotions rule his life
he could’ve had Indigo, but not now, not after the things he’d done, not unless
they could both forget the past and the hand fate had dealt them.

Goddess knew he
wanted her enough to try, even if all they could ever have was friendship.

The elevator
doors opened. Bobby stepped out into the reception area and spotted her dressed
in a shimmering, red flowy shirt over form-fitting leggings that highlighted
the lush curve of her bottom and the strength in her legs. The breath whooshed
out of him in a rush and every nerve in his body went on full alert.

Yeah, friends
.
How’s that
working out for you?

He shook his
head to try to clear it, and noticed the tense set of Indigo’s shoulders as she
faced off against Laura, whose normally professional face was drawn into a
thunderous scowl.

What the hell
.

He ignored the sudden
ache in his temples and stalked toward the two women, resigned to sorting out
whatever problem had cropped up between them.

* * *

Indigo smoothed
her shirt down over her flat stomach, then tugged at the hem to make sure the
fabric hung correctly. Above her, digitally created numbers lit up in sequence
as the elevator rose toward the floor housing Bobby’s company. Her stomach
jumped when the elevator dinged, signaling a stop. It wasn’t because of nerves,
couldn’t be. Bobby had asked her to drop by today and offered to go shopping
with her. She’d made a considered, rational decision to allow him to accompany
her, for selfish reasons that had nothing to do with the attraction sparking
between them.

No, not
attraction.
Tension
. There was still
tension
between them, left
over from that unfortunate day. She didn’t want to dwell on that. It was in the
past and best left alone. Better to look to the future, a bright future where
she was welcome in the Upton household among people she’d known for decades
prior to Bobby’s birth, and could visit there without any
tension
between herself and the beloved Son because she and he had resolved it.

That the Son in
question had a strong back and owned a truck big enough for hauling furniture
was merely coincidental.

She walked out
of the elevator toward the reception desk. Laura was sitting in for the BDH
receptionist again. There was nothing sinister or untoward about the young
woman, yet her presence jangled Indigo’s nerves even more. Laura dressed
smartly, held herself well, and apparently managed the office with a ruthless
efficiency that would make Rebecca Upton proud. Indigo ignored the niggle of
envy and pasted a pleasant smile on her face.

“I’m here to see
Bobby,” Indigo said.

“Mr. Upton is
out of the office at the moment.” Laura’s wide brown eyes were cold behind her wire-rimmed
glasses. “Would you like to make an appointment?”

Indigo tried to
ignore the sinking feeling in her gut and failed spectacularly. So, it was like
that. What was Bobby doing spending time with her instead of Laura? “Would it
be all right if I wait?”

“That would be
futile. Mr. Upton indicated he would be out of the office the entire day.”

“Since he asked
me to meet him here this afternoon, that’s unlikely.” Indigo gritted her teeth,
searching for her normally endless patience. “I’m sure he’ll be back soon. I’d
very much like to wait for him.”

Laura rose and
rested her fingers on the phone in front of her. “Mr. Upton did not tell me
about a meeting. Therefore, he will not be back. You should make an appointment
and go before I call security.”

Indigo huffed
out an annoyed breath. Before she could reply, the elevator’s doors opened. She
glanced around. The nerves she’d managed to settle jumped back into play at the
sight of Bobby stepping out, his expression caught between irritation and
anger.

“What’s going
on?” he said.           

Indigo opened
her mouth to reply. Laura beat her to the punch.

“Ms. Dupree
arrived without an appointment.” Laura shot a heated glare at Indigo over the
top of her glasses. “I informed her that you would be out today.”

“I will be,”
Bobby agreed. “Indi and I are going shopping.”

Laura pressed
her lips together with what was surely disapproval. Indigo just refrained from
giving the other woman a
so there
look. When had she stooped to such
childish gestures? Right. That would be the day Bobby Upton had sauntered back
into her life.

Bobby ran a hand
casually down Indigo’s back. She shivered at the touch, though it didn’t
distract her from the venom that flickered across Laura’s face a moment before
the young woman arranged her features into a professional mask.

His voice
dropped as he leaned into Indigo. “I need to make some notes before we go. It
won’t take long, if you don’t mind the wait.”

“I’m a little
early.” Her irritation over the intractable Laura faded. “In fact, I deliberately
came early to see if you wanted to have lunch with me. My treat, in return for
your expert shopping help.”

Laura gave a
patently fake cough into her hand.

“Sure,” he said.
“Want to wait in the office while I catch up?”

“That would be
lovely.”

“Go ahead,
then.” He pulled out a set of keys, selected one, and handed it to Indigo.
“I’ll be right there.”

She took the
ring of keys from Bobby’s hand. and headed toward his office, ignoring Bobby
and Laura’s quiet conversation behind her. The blinds were pulled down tightly
against the row of glass windows between the main area and his office. Indigo
unlocked the door and flipped the light switch on as she went in, closed the
door, and dropped the keys on his desk.

She wandered
around his office, exploring the books shelved neatly along the length of the
wall behind his desk. Pictures and memorabilia sat at regular intervals, interspersed
among the books. She examined each in turn as she skimmed book titles. There
was a picture of Bobby with his family when he was about ten and another right
beside it of him as an infant, held gingerly in his father’s arms. Indigo sighed
at the love on Robert’s face as he gazed down at his son, touched at the depth
of expression.

There were the
obligatory sports photos and a few snapshots from Bobby’s time in the military.
In one, he and Drew bracketed Hiro. All three were dressed in camouflage and
wore somber expressions. From the thinness of their bodies and their relative
youth, she guessed the photo had been taken on graduation day for advanced
training of some sort.

She’d
deliberately fostered a lack of knowledge about Bobby as subtly as she could.
Maybe it was time for that to change.

Two shelves down
was a photo of Bobby with Dani draped over his back, both laughing with the
carefree zest of youth. The memories of the day it was taken popped into her
mind. Labor Day, about a month before Bobby’s sixteenth birthday. The whole
town had come out for the annual national holiday and made a day of it with
races and contests and food and fun. It had been a wonderful day, though she
likely wouldn’t remember it as brightly if her life hadn’t changed so completely
not long after, immortal memory or not.

She stroked a
finger over the picture, oddly disquieted at the joy in his young face, and the
hardness that had grown into it since.

Because of her.

Indigo inhaled
deeply and pushed the guilt away as Bobby opened the door to his office.

“Sorry about
that,” he said. “I don’t know what’s gotten into Laura. She’s usually so good
with people.”

Indigo moved out
of the way as Bobby came around the desk, and took a seat on the sofa beside
the door while he leaned over his desk and made notes on the large calendar
there.

“Really?” she
said.

“Really, what?”

His expression
was blank, his body relaxed and loose except for a slight tightening around his
eyes. Indigo considered him and couldn’t quite tamp down the smug amusement. He
really had no clue why Laura had acted the way she had. Whatever feelings Laura
had for him, they weren’t returned, not in the same measure.

“Nothing,”
Indigo said.

He speared her
with an intense gaze that left her needier than it should’ve, then shrugged. “I’ll
give you a key so you can come in and work.”

“I haven’t
agreed to help you yet.”

“But you will.”

“You have a lot
of confidence in your ability to persuade me.”

“Mmm.
Persuasion, charm, bribery. Whatever it takes.”

He jotted down a
few more notes, checked his watch, and threw his pen onto the desk. His eyes
slid down her body so briefly she would’ve missed it if she weren’t paying
attention. A frisson of heated awareness shivered through her at the glint of
approval in his gaze.

“So, where are
we going?”

“Wherever you
want.” She stood and noted the way his gaze followed her movements, almost as
if he couldn’t help looking. His words from a few days before floated through
her mind.
Would you believe me if I said I can’t help myself?
It
appeared he really couldn’t. It pleased her, inexplicably, irrationally. “Would
you mind driving?”