Shadowdance Read Online Free Page B

His long fingers curled into a fist upon thetable. “I was under the impression that the SOS kept the identity of shifters secret.”
    The director’s mouth tightened. “We do. There is no indication that the files have been breached.”
    Talent made a noise that might have been construed as a snort, but it was just soft enough to get by Wilde without earning any reproach. For once, however, Mary agreed with Talent’s sentiment.
    After researching long into the night, Mary had learned that, in the last hundred years, the SOS had made a concerted effort to locate and document the existence of all shifters living in Europe. A daunting task. However, when the Nex began hunting shifters for their blood—whose properties gave demons the ability to shift into anything—the SOS, realizing its mistake in outing shifters, provided as much protection as it could by offering them new identities and keeping their whereabouts hidden. But it was a constant battle, for the Nex, an organization dedicated to seeing supernaturals rule the world over humans, was resourceful and ruthless.
    Talent leaned forward a fraction. “Who was Keating? Before?”
    “Johannes Maxum.” Wilde pulled a paper from his file and handed it to Talent. “He’s an older shifter. Date of birth unknown, but he once worked as an alchemist for Augustus the Strong in the quest to discover the Chinese’s secret to making porcelain.”
    Talent scanned the page, then set it down. Protocol dictated that he hand the paper to Mary, and she might have been insulted at his obvious slight, had she not been expecting it. No matter, she’d read about Maxum as well. Besides, Talent’s juvenile tactics would not cow her.
    In any event, Director Wilde was now looking at both of them. “Research has been instructed to provide any and all assistance you might require.”
    “Thank you, Director,” Mary said. “We shall keep you informed as the case proceeds.”
    Talent’s jaw snapped up as if he’d been punched. “We?”
    The force of his inner agitation was a maelstrom creaking against the walls. Any moment now it would break. Mary remained calm. “We are to be partners now, Master Talent. Or haven’t you been paying attention?”
And I will stick to you like a barnacle until I find out the truth
.
    The small vein at his temple pulsed. “I work alone. Always have.”
    Wilde laid a hand over the file. “There is a time to every purpose under the heaven, Master Talent. Which includes knowing when to receive help.” The steely look in the director’s eyes made it clear that Talent would find no leeway should he protest.
    The sound of Talent’s teeth grinding filled the room. “I was under the impression Mistress Chase was here in a clerical capacity.”
    “You hoped,” Mary corrected. “Otherwise, I have grave concerns regarding your propensity for jumping to conclusions.”
    Talent leaned his weight on the table as his gaze bore into her. “Keep baiting me, Chase, and you’ll find out what else I have a propensity for.”
    She leaned in as well, until they faced each other like dogs in a pit ring. “I am quaking in my knickers.”
    “There you go, mentioning your knickers.” His mouth slanted, and his eyes gleamed dark green. “What I cannot discern is if you only do so to me, or if you want the whole of the SOS to be thinking about them.”
    “Why Master Talent, are you trying to tell me that you think about my knickers?”
    His lips pinched so tight that she had to bite back a grin. A low growl rumbled from the vicinity of his chest.
    “Children.” Director Wilde’s expression was stern, but his eyes held a glint of amusement. “The discussion is over. You will work together on this.” His good humor fled. “And you will not fail the SOS. Now”—he motioned to the door with his chin—“take your squabble out of here. Perhaps you can pull Mistress Chase’s braids in the common room, Master Talent.”
    On the outside Mary knew she appeared