“I went in unarmed. I tried to talk him into surrendering, into walking out with me and letting the team take down his boss, but he wouldn’t listen.” He made certain to look her in the eye. She wouldn’t want to believe him, but her cat would know he was telling the truth. The cat was becoming strong enough to emerge, and the closer she got to the surface, the more she would enhance Isabeau’s abilities. She would know if he lied and if he told the truth.

Isabeau refused to be a coward, looking him straight in the eye and forcing herself to remember the terrifying moment when she’d stepped into the room and saw her father falling, blood splattering the wall behind him. There’d been so much blood. At first she hadn’t known what happened. There was no sound, a silencer on the weapon used. She had opened her mouth to scream, and her lover had been on her so fast she couldn’t even see him move, his hand clapping hard over her mouth, taking her to the floor, his eyes cold and hard and so demonic she’d been terrified.

She’d lain under his body, watching the blood turn black and thick around her father, and the man she’d loved with her soul, now a stranger who was clearly working with the man who had shot her father. Funny, she could barely recall the other man, only the gun and her father falling and Conner’s face, carved of stone, grim, without a trace of love or caring. Without a trace of remorse. He’d held her there while others moved in with guns, his hand clamped tight so she could barely take a breath. She’d watched them, grim and silent, weapons crisscrossing their bodies, move through the room, stepping over her father as if he were a piece of garbage and not a man who had laughed and played with her, teaching her to drive, sitting up all night with her when she was ill.

Isabeau swallowed hard and looked away from him. It was totally dark now, but she could see when she should have been blind. She didn’t want to see. Maybe staying blind in the darkness was the best way for self-preservation, because God help her if she came to terms with what Conner had done.

“We’ve got to go,” Conner said.

She nodded, letting her breath out in relief. She couldn’t think about that night. She’d spent too much time delving into her father’s affairs, feeling as if she was betraying him. She’d spent too many sleepless nights, had too many nightmares.

“Put your shoes back on, you can’t walk barefoot.”