Read In the Crossfire (Bloodhaven) for Free Online Page A

mean.”
    “Good quality to have.”
    “I think so.”
    Liam studied her solemnly, and Isobel could feel every inch of her prickle beneath his gaze.
    “I suppose it makes it easier,” he murmured. “Having me in the system. Lets you track my movements more closely.”
    She wouldn’t deny it. “Does that bother you?”
    Liam was close-mouthed when it came to his personal details. Isobel had a feeling that if it hadn’t been painfully obvious from the start, he wouldn’t have mentioned his wartime service to her. Finally he shook his head, retreating into silence once more.
    She led him into her office. After gaining access inside, Isobel began the process of inputting his profile, starting first with his stats.
    Personally, she would’ve described his eyes as gunmetal silver instead of gray, that his dark brown hair was mostly bleached by the sun, that when he moved, it was with just as much the grace of a leopard as it was the predatory stalk of the wolf he was.
    All that was true, but for purposes of the profile, she stuck to the basic facts. Facts were good.
    Wolf-shifter, six-five, two hundred pounds. Gray eyes, dark brown hair, birthmarks on left elbow and back of his neck.
    Spiderweb scars fanning out from the edge of his left eye. Thick scarring around both wrists, with tracks extending halfway up his forearms and down the back of his hands. Intermittent scarring weaving up his upper arms, vanishing beneath the sleeves of his T-shirt.
    Whatever he’d gone through, it’d been so severe that ordinary shifting hadn’t been able to heal his scars completely. Medical advances had grown by leaps and bounds in the seven years since the war, yet he’d chosen not to hide his marks with cosmetic surgery.
    If this had been a more comprehensive profile, Isobel would’ve gone ahead and documented every physical aspect, no matter Liam’s level of discomfort. Asked him to lift up his shirt so that she could record and photograph other birthmarks and scars that might exist. Measured them down to the precise centimetre. Categorized them according to the assigned scale.
    But this wasn’t, and so she didn’t. Neither did he offer.
    She scanned his prints and retina. She didn’t own Council-grade digital radiography equipment to enable a full-body scan, but she was as comprehensive as possible using what equipment she did have. Later, when he’d gone home, she would link his profile to the background files she’d retained on him. That should provide a sufficient basis to start with.
    All throughout the process, Liam never said a word.
    He let her snap both full-body and close-up shots. Lifted his chin to the light when asked. Made no demands nor peppered her with questions.
    Instead, he continued to watch her, his gaze sharp and intense, following her as she moved around her office.
    It sparked a heat of awareness between Isobel’s legs, twisting low and tight. It reminded her that she’d been too consumed by work lately, and hadn’t had a hot and heavy rut in far too long.
    Because that was the thing with Liam: sometimes he didn’t—wouldn’t—meet the other person’s gaze. He’d stare at their nose, or their collarbone, or just above their ear. Sometimes Isobel thought it was a distancing technique, something he did to avoid getting involved. Or maybe it was due to whatever hell he’d gone through in the past.
    And then there were times, like right now, when he’d meet the other person’s eyes head-on. A resolute, single-minded stare. When Isobel got the full impact of those eyes, there was no denying the sharpness and intelligence behind them, or the frisson they invoked along her spine.
    One never really knew where one stood with Liam, Isobel thought. There were times he was a total mystery to her. And Isobel, who’d always prided herself on being able to decipher any suspect’s body language—something that could make all the difference in her line of work—was disconcerted to find Liam utterly