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little room to judge here, and he had to force himself not to say so. “If Stone can get us the information we need, do you really care how?”
    “I care.” She shook her head. “But if it’s the only way…” Her expression closed and she turned to leave. “I’ll go get ready.”
    Drago watched until she disappeared from view.
    She might have strayed from department procedure, but she wasn’t a wild card. Other than her working on a case that wasn’t hers anymore, she undoubtedly went by the CPD playbook. Which could get in his way during this investigation. His hands weren’t tied by the same rules and regulations as someone who was part of the system. Of course if he had to, he could leave her out of the loop. Not that she would like that any more than she would like his methods if he needed to step out of the box.
    As he thought more about Camille, he realized that even though she had worked on the case without her superior’s knowledge, that was nothing compared to some of the things he’d done to keep people in his neighborhood safe. He was sure she’d put herself in equally dangerous situations when necessary, but the difference was that she believed in the system. He’d lost that naiveté the first time he’d been beaten for refusing to join a gang, and the police had done exactly nothing. No arrests. No investigation. He’d known then that he had to take care of himself.
    When his brother had joined the force, Drago had been disbelieving. Justus had been a good cop, but one with a black-and-white mentality. He’d mentored Camille, who’d followed in his footsteps. Neither of them would fully approve of the shades of gray he’d accepted to loosen the grip of the Humboldt Lords in his neighborhood.
    He had to accept that he and Camille were different in the most fundamental of ways.
    Exactly why, once this job was over, they never could be together again.

Chapter Four
    Camille twitched with discomfort on the ride to the old Bucktown neighborhood where Stone lived and ran his illicit trade. Though she was on administrative leave and had been forced to turn in her star and her gun, she was still an officer of the law, and it went against her grain to ask for this kind of help from someone involved in criminal activity. The only way she could convince herself to go along with Drago was to justify the situation. Stone wasn’t a violent criminal, while Angel was. A probable murderer held a young girl’s life in his hands, and that fact trumped everything else.
    She checked her watch halfway through the morning. He’d had Sandy for enough time to do some physical and psychological damage.
    Her fault…all her fault…
    “Are you ever going to talk to me?” Drago asked.
    Realizing she’d sunk into her own thoughts, Camille said, “I’m not
not
talking to you. I’m just anxious.”
    “Chill.” He put his hand over hers and made her pulse jump. “Stone’s a pacifist. Not dangerous.”
    “Right.”
    Not like Drago.
    Camille felt the danger like a live wire where they touched. Her pulse was racing, her throat grew tight. He wasn’t for her. She shouldn’t want him anyway.
    Four years ago, after he’d been arrested, she’d looked into his background and learned he’d been involved in gang activity starting as a teenager. She’d known then that Drago Nance could be dangerous, even if he hadn’t sported the usual tattoos that marked a member of a street gang and recorded his acts of violence. The only tattoo on Drago’s body was a long black and red dragon inked down the left side of his back, the head on his shoulder breathing fire down his chest.
    The ink had fascinated her, and she’d explored every inch of it with her fingers and tongue and the tips of her breasts.
    Her body was responding to the memory. Shifting, she squeezed her thighs together. Lord, there was nothing she could do about her nipples tightening. She could only hope he didn’t notice them pressing up against her shirt.