“It doesn’t matter,” she said. “Enough is going on right now that I won’t worry about semantics.”

  “I appreciate that,” he replied humbly.

  She snorted. “That really doesn’t suit you.”

  “And here I was trying so hard,” he protested, with a smirk.

  “Maybe too hard, so give it a rest.”

  “Wow, now you’re hurting my feelings.”

  She shook her head, opened up the to-go bag and stared down at the fast-food burger morosely.

  “Uh-oh, you don’t like fast food either, huh?”

  “Not usually. It doesn’t feed the soul,” she murmured. “It takes energy to digest it, instead of giving me energy from it.”

  “All food takes energy to digest,” he protested.

  “Yeah, and then some takes even more, but, hey, I need the fuel, so I will shut up and eat what you provided.”

  “You could have said something, you know.”

  “Too tired,” she mumbled, her mouth already wrapped around the burger.

  “I guess there is something to be said for that.” He picked up one of the two burgers he’d bought for himself and polished off the first in a few bites.

  She watched him in amazement, as a second one quickly went by the wayside as well. “You see? That’s part of the problem. You inhaled that so quickly that your body will burn through it just as fast.”

  He shrugged. “Mine wasn’t intended to keep me up for long. I just need fuel for when I need it.”

  “Meaning that, if we come under attack, you’re prepped and ready to go.”

  He gave her a long knowing look and then slowly nodded. “That’s one way to look at it.”

  “Great,” she muttered. “I guess there’s really no getting away from the fact that something is seriously wrong in my world.”

  “If it were just the board members trying to ditch you, I wouldn’t be anywhere near as concerned,” he admitted. “However, it seems to be more than that. Even you have to admit now that whatever is going on could all be related—but might not be related at all.”

  “I don’t know what it is at this point. Not a clue. Where did you take my files to? Or maybe I should ask, were you able to get any of my physical files out?”

  He nodded. “I got your files, and I cleaned off your hard drive.”

  “Oh good,” she replied.

  “I don’t suppose anything in there is what somebody was after, right?”

  She frowned at him. “How long ago do you think my place was broken into?”

  He stared at her. “That’s a good question, and maybe we should find that out first. You’re thinking that somebody saw that my guys put the contents of your office in my car, so went to your apartment, thinking they would find it there?”

  “That would make sense, wouldn’t it?”

  “As much sense as any of this does,” he admitted. “And believe me. Not a lot of it makes any sense at all.”

  She smiled. “Yeah, I hear you there,” she murmured, “but, if we’re sensible about this, it stands to reason that, if they were looking for something in my office, they were expecting to find it there. So the next logical spot would be my apartment.”

  “That brings me back to whoever put the bug in your office.”

  “Yeah, I’m still a little disturbed about that,” she admitted. “I wish I knew if it was there beforehand.”

  “That would be nice and would definitely help give us a time frame. If it was beforehand, what would that mean to you?”

  “It would mean that somebody associated with the clinic—board members, doctors, coworkers, whoever,” she began, searching for the right words, “was involved in trying to do something, or to find something, even back then. But if it happened after I came back, it could be someone trying to figure out what I might be up to, what I might care to do, now that I am back. It could have all kinds of implications, but it would be more about getting rid of me now, I would think.”

  “Then the question would be, do you think the fact that we found the bug made any difference at all?”

  “We left it in place though, right?”

  “We did, but that doesn’t mean somebody didn’t realize that we might have found it.”

  “They know that now, at least whoever you told, but maybe someone else placed it there.” She pondered that and then shrugged. “I suppose anything is possible at this point.” She yawned just then and stared down at the fries in front of her. “I don’t think I can eat any of those.”

  He looked at her in astonishment. “They’re fries, an American staple.”

  “Yep, they sure are, unless you use energy in healing,” she noted. “And then it’s just—how shall I say it delicately? What goes in is what comes out.”

  “Meaning?” His tone was ominous, as he watched her carefully.

  “Meaning that when you want good things out of your body, you have to put good things into your body,” she muttered. She got up slowly, then walked over to the corner in the hotel room. “A coffeepot is here though.”

  “No way. How does coffee fit into the good stuff in, good stuff out formula?” he asked in a half-teasing voice. “Because I sure don’t see you slowing down on the coffee.”

  “I would inject it, if I could,” she admitted, with no smile in sight. “Some things are just needed in order to keep functioning.”

  “That’s called a crutch.”

  “Maybe, but it’s one I could really use right now.”

  He decided to take pity on her. “Then make some coffee. I don’t mind in the least.”

  She stared at the contraption in front of her. “I’ve never used one of these successfully before.”

  He joined her, took a look at it, and noted, “It’s one of those pod units.”

  “Yeah, last time I used one of these, I was traveling and kept breaking the pods without actually getting my fill.”

  He nodded. “There is a trick to it.” He quickly showed her how it worked and then handed her a hot cup of coffee. “Try that.”

  She took a sip, nodded, then sat down on the couch.

  “If you won’t eat this, you haven’t had anywhere near-enough food, you know.”

  “I’m fine. I’m too tired right now anyway.” He frowned at her. “Don’t bother, really,” she protested. “I can’t eat any more right now. If I was that hungry, I would have eaten it because food is food in the end.” Still she eyed the fries with distaste.

  He groaned. “I suppose you’re one of those green smoothies in the morning people, aren’t you?”

  “No, not necessarily, but, if I can’t get all my greens and veggies any other way, it’s a good way to do it,” she noted. “I really would prefer steak and eggs though.” When he stared at her in astonishment, she shrugged. “What can I say? I’m a carnivorous rabbit.”

  “Is that even a thing?”

  “I eat a lot of meat, and I eat a lot of vegetables, but the rest? … Not so much.”

  “Interesting,” he murmured. “Does that help you in your work?”

  “Yes. However, if I have a big job to do, I actually fast ahead of time.”

  “Like for how long? A couple hours?”

  “A couple days if it’s massive,” she shared. “It all depends on what I’m doing. If it’s a regular working day where I’m doing a lot of energy work, fasting helps. If I don’t, then it’s pretty hard to get clarity on what I need to do while I’m under.”

  He shook his head. “I have so many questions on all that.”

  “Don’t bother,” she murmured. “I’m too tired to answer any more questions right now anyway.” She leaned back against the armrest, holding her coffee delicately, as she closed her eyes.

  “You want to tell me what’s going on?”

  “You want to tell me what’s going on?” she replied, without opening her eyes.

  He glared at her. “Funny.”

  “Not really,” she muttered, opening her eyes again to face him. “I’m too damn tired. I need some time to digest. I need to figure out what’s going on, who could be behind this, and I honestly haven’t got a clue. And that’s what everybody wants to know. Hey, how come you don’t know who’s attacking you? How come you don’t know who planted a bug in your office? How come you don’t know who trashed your apartment?”

  At that, he noted with alarm that her eyes were overly shiny, and he realized just how exhausted she was. “Hey, hey, hey, take it easy now.” The tears were literally at the corner of her eyes. She sniffled several times, trying to hold them back. Immediately he got up, walked over and sat down on the couch beside her, tugging her into his arms. “I’m sorry.”

  She shook her head and sniffled again.

  He sighed, pulled her back a little bit, and gently stroked her shoulders. “Listen. It’s been a pretty rough time, so why don’t you just go to bed.”

  “I would like to, but I’m not sure I can sleep yet. My head is still churning.”

  He winced at that. “I understand that feeling too,” he muttered. “It’s hard to get past some of this stuff.”

  “It’s terrible,” she said, “absolutely terrible. You close your eyes, and all this boils right back up again.”

  “No, I hear you.”

  They sat for a while, as she sipped her coffee, leaning against his chest and making no move to leave.

  “How come you’re so nice, considering the industry that you work in?” she asked suddenly.

  He laughed at that. “I don’t know too many people who would consider me nice. Plus you don’t have to be an asshole just to work for the FBI—although, having said that, the job changes you. I think making an effort to be nice when you’re not arresting people or hunting down monsters is even more important, so you get some balance in your life.”

  “Back to that whole nice guy syndrome. Grant too.”

  “Which most guys would not appreciate being called, by the way.” She snickered at that, and he grinned, loving the laughter in her tone. “You can joke, but I’m telling you. Drew wouldn’t take it nicely either.”

  “Yeah, he would,” she agreed, shifting more onto the couch. He lifted the empty coffee cup out of her hand. “He’s got Dr. Maddy though, so he doesn’t care what anybody else thinks.”

  “That’s a good point,” Gray admitted. “The two of them seem very happy.”

  “Yeah, I never understood how that could work though. Anybody I know would get kind of freaked out if they found out what I do.”

  “Because you’re a shrink?”

  “That and then the other stuff.”

  “So, do you want to tell me about that other stuff, since it sounds like something I should know,” he mentioned, with a note of humor.

  “It depends on if you plan on sticking around,” she said. “I have this … kind of test that I do to see if guys will hang around, once they figure it out.”

  “Seriously?” He twisted slightly to look at her face, but her eyes were closed, and the corner of her lips were twitching. “Right, I guess I already failed it.”

  She burst out laughing and then sank back against him, yawning again.

  “Just sleep.”

  “I can’t sleep here,” she muttered.

  “Just close your eyes for a minute, and you might be surprised,” he suggested.

  “It’s not fair to sleep on you. That’ll hardly give you a decent night’s sleep.”

  “I don’t think you’ll sleep that long anyway,” he murmured.

  He watched as she gently slept in his arms. Even against all her protestations, she dropped off almost immediately and stayed that way. When his phone rang, he immediately answered it, hoping it wouldn’t wake her.

  Grant was on the other end.

  “According to her, you’re a nice guy,” Gray greeted his boss, speaking softly but with a note of laughter in his tone.

  “What are you talking about?” Grant asked, a bit confused.

  “Cressy says that you’re a nice guy.”

  “Wow, of course I am,” Grant stated. “What’s your problem?”

  “I told her that most guys wouldn’t like being called nice. Then she told me that you, me, and Drew were some of the nice ones. She said Drew already had Dr. Maddy, so he wouldn’t care if people called him nice.”

  “You guys are having some interesting conversations,” Grant noted. “Did you even consider discussing the issue at hand?”

  “You mean, the fact that she has no idea who’s after her, who would have tossed her apartment or attacked her or anything along that line?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Yeah, that came up. I tried to push for more, but she keeps telling me how she’s too exhausted to think about it.”

  “Where is she now?”

  “She’s sleeping on my lap.”

  At that came a soft gasp and then a low chuckle. “Of course she is. How could I expect anything else?” he teased.

  “Don’t even go there,” Gray warned.

  “I don’t have to. You already did.” Grant laughed. “Just treat her right.”

  “I wasn’t planning on doing anything other than that. She’s like a wounded bird,” he murmured.

  “Yeah, but this one’s got all kinds of skills and so much more. She may seem to be a wounded bird, but you better believe … that she’s part raptor too.” With that, Grant rang off.

  Gray stared down at the tiny woman in his arms. Raptor? No way, hummingbird maybe, sparrow, but raptor? Uh-uh, not possible. He closed his eyes, thinking he would rest them for a few minutes. Once she was in a deep-enough sleep, he would carry her to the bedroom.

  Then she shifted in his arms, murmuring, fighting against something out on the ethers.

  Even the fact that there were ethers was enough to make his skin crawl, especially as he thought about what could be out there and what could be happening. As he watched her intently, it seemed she was shaking off something or certainly trying to fight off something. He reached out a hand and gently shook her shoulders, but, as quick as a wink, she turned on him, and this tiny sparrow of a woman was suddenly the size of the whole room. He stared in shock as she just seemed to expand and expand and expand.

  “Jesus,” he cried out. “Wake up!” Just like that, she snapped and was suddenly in his arms again.

  She pushed off his chest and stared at him, bleary-eyed. “Did you just wake me up?” she asked in an accusing tone.

  He looked down at her in shock, nodded immediately. She studied him for a moment, and he watched as a door came down over her face, making her expression completely bland.

  “I see.” She turned away and stood and headed to the bedroom. “In that case I’ll head off to bed.” Then she closed the door on him.

  “Whoa, whoa, whoa,” he cried out. “A little explanation would be nice.”

  “Not getting it,” she snapped. “Next time don’t try to hold me while I sleep.”

  “Yeah, thank you, you’re welcome. For all you know I saved you.”

  “You mean, I saved you,” she replied with a snort, and then came silence.

  Chapter 16

  Cressy woke up the next morning, achy, sore, tired, and depressed, more so than she had been in a very long time. But then nothing quite like realizing her energy had gone into overdrive, while she’d been sleeping on Gray’s lap. According to his reaction, something happened that she didn’t even want to ask him about. Just so many things could have happened, and she really had no way of knowing what it was because she didn’t want to talk about it.

  She stepped into the shower and soaked under the hot water as long as she felt she could, then quickly dressed in her brand-new clothes, snapping off the tags as she went. Finally dressed, with a towel still wrapped around her head, she went out to see if she could make one of those coffees. As she moved into the living room, she looked around to see if Gray was here but saw no sign of him. Then found he was sprawled out on the floor under the window. She stared at that and walked closer. When he opened his eyes, she jumped back.

  “I’m fine,” he said.

  “Do you always sleep on floors, when couches are available?”

  “When the couches are half my size, yes,” he said. “I’d rather sleep on a hard surface than wake up as a pretzel.”

  She eyed his length and looked back at the couch, then shrugged. “Good point.” She then headed over to check out the coffee machine.

  “Did you get any sleep?”

  “I did, thanks.”

  “It doesn’t sound like it,” he noted.

  “I actually didn’t do too badly, when I think about it,” she replied.

  “You mean, considering.”

  “Yes, considering,” she agreed, “but then that’s my life right now.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  She made the coffee and then slowly turned and looked at him. “For what?”

  “For reacting like any normal person. If you had warned me, I wouldn’t have been quite so surprised.”

  “Since it can change from time to time, I can’t really warn anybody, can I?”

  “When you say change, what does that mean?” he asked cautiously.

  “Change, that’s what I mean. It changes. Sometimes it’s this way. Sometimes it’s that way.”

  “This way and that way,” he repeated, “and yet you’re doing a good job of avoiding saying exactly what it is.”

  “It’s hard to explain.”

  “But it’s not that hard to explain,” he stated flatly, staring at her.

  “Fine. I get into nightmare mode, and I go on the defensive.”

  “Yeah, so that …”

  “That thing?” she asked.

  “Yeah, that’s one word for it,” he muttered, “though not quite the right one.”

  “You’d be surprised,” she said in a surprisingly cheerful voice. “That thing is an animation from my own psyche. So, you could say, it was me.”

  He stopped and stared. “So that was you, huh?”

  She pondered that. “Yeah, I guess that’s me.”

  “Okay, hang on a minute,” he began. “I’m really not trying to be a jerk. I would like a straight answer and not something you’re beating around the bush on.”