Always a Thief Part 6

"Then why did you come back here?"

"To thank you, that's all. I just . . . didn't like leaving that way. Without a word."

"I didn't care for it much myself. Especially the walking-away-when-I-offered-you-my-bodypart. That's sort of hard on a woman's ego."

"You only said maybe you'd changed your mind about strip poker."

"We both know exactly what I meant."

He cleared his throat again. "If it helps, I really-really-wanted to stay."

"Then why didn't you?"

"It would be a mistake, Morgana. Never doubt that."

"Because you're Quinn?" They hadn't talked about this when he'd been recovering here, and she had a peculiar idea that was really why he'd come back-because he wanted her to fully understand who and what he was.

"Isn't that reason enough? Name any major city in the Western world, and the cops there want me behind bars at the very least. And there are a couple of places in the Far East as well. That won't change, no matter how this turns out. I'm too effective to go public, and Interpol knows it. They've got me by the-short hairs." He laughed, honest amus.e.m.e.nt in the sound. "I can't complain. I had a h.e.l.l of a dance, and now I have to pay the band."

"Extend the metaphor." She smiled faintly. "The music hasn't stopped, the tune's just changed. You enjoy the dance, Alex. And Interpol knows that. So they changed the music for you."

"And made sure I'd dance for them?" He laughed again. "Probably." His voice and face became abruptly expressionless. "The point is that . . . I'm never going to be respectable, Morgana. I don't want to be. You're right; I enjoy enjoy this dance. I don't feel a bit of regret about my past." this dance. I don't feel a bit of regret about my past."

"But they caught you," she murmured.

He nodded. "They caught me. They could have locked me up; instead, they gave me a choice. And I chose. I'll keep my bargain with them. I'll dance to their tune. As you said-only the music's changed; the dance is just as much fun."

"You won't be able to steal for yourself anymore," she noted, watching him with an expression of mild interest.

He shrugged carelessly. "The proceeds of my past will see me through even a long future in style, sweet."

In a thoughtful tone, she said, "I would have expected them to demand you return those proceeds."

"They tried." He smiled sardonically. "I told them I'd forget how to dance."

"You are a complete villain, aren't you?"

Quinn eyed her a bit warily. "I don't know why on earth it's so," he commented, "but I have the most insane urge to insist that I am, in fact, just that."

"And selfish and egotistical and reckless. Without morals, scruples, compa.s.sion, or shame. Lawless, heartless, wicked, and rebellious. How am I doing?"

"Just fine," he answered with a suggestion of gritted teeth.

She nodded seriously. "Let's see . . . you're a thief of world renown, there's no doubt of that. You've quite cheerfully broken a number of the laws of G.o.d and man. Without, according to you, one iota of remorse. And you're on the right side of the law now only because it was infinitely preferable to spending the remainder of your life in a prison cell."

"All true," he said grimly.

"Do you also kick puppies and steal candy from children?"

Quinn drew a deep breath. "Only on odd Thursdays."

She smiled a little. "You know . . . I'd have a much easier time believing all these rotten things about you if you didn't try so hard to make me believe them."

With a glint of despair in his vivid eyes, he said, "Morgan, get it through your head-I'm not a nice person."

"I never said you were."

Quinn blinked but recovered quickly. "I get it. You're a danger junkie, that's why you brazenly invited me to be your lover."

"A danger junkie. Well, maybe. I would never have guessed I'd turn into one, mind you, but anything's possible. Meet a world-infamous cat burglar in a dark museum one night and all kinds of doors are suddenly before you." Morgan's tone remained thoughtful. "It's a new path. A less-traveled path. All the best journeys in life are the unexpected ones. So why not?"

"Why are you talking like a fortune cookie?"

Morgan hadn't enjoyed herself so much in years, and it took everything she had to keep from laughing out loud. Instead, she said gravely, "All kinds of doors. I'll say this for you, Alex. They're interesting doors. Very interesting doors. And the one thing I know for sure is that I really do want to find out what's behind those doors."

"Tigers," he warned.

"Somehow I doubt that. But not handsome princes either. You're not that magnanimous. Adventure, I'd say. Maybe danger. Changes, for sure. I think my life is ready for changes."

"Morgan-"

"I'm a big girl, Alex, all grown up and everything. I think I can make decisions about my life. And who to let into it. I think that's what being a grown-up is all about."

"Morgan, I'm a thief thief. I break the law. I do bad things. Remember? I am not the sort of man you should let into your life."

She lifted an eyebrow at him. "Alex, you can't expect me to believe you're an evil ogre when you won't even let yourself be decently seduced. Any genuine villain would have been in my bed like a shot. Especially a b.o.o.b man. Which we both know you are."

Quinn bowed his head and muttered a string of soft but heartfelt oaths.

Perfectly aware that he was trying hard not to laugh and trying equally hard to be serious about this, Morgan said gravely, "Look, I'm not an idiot. Yes, you've broken the law, frequently and with a certain amount of panache. Being a law-abiding person myself, I find that hard to understand, much less excuse. I can't even console myself by believing that some tragedy led you into a life of crime in the best melodramatic tradition. You enjoyed your past, and you're enjoying this dangerous sh.e.l.l game now.

"I've told myself all that. I've been very rational about the situation. And if I were looking for a happily-ever-after ending, this conversation wouldn't be taking place. Because I know d.a.m.ned well any woman who gets involved with you is asking for trouble. She's also asking for heartache-not because you're an evil man, but because you aren't."

Quinn raised his head and stared at her.

Her amus.e.m.e.nt gone, Morgan smiled a bit ruefully. "I've tried. I have tried. But I can't seem to do much about this. You'd be d.a.m.nably easy to love, Alex. Rogues always are, and you're certainly that. But I'm not fool enough to believe I could catch the wind in my hands, so you don't have to worry about me clinging. I don't want golden rings or bedroom promises. Just . . . an adventure. And I won't make it difficult for you. I won't even ask you to say good-bye when it's over."

"Dammit, would you stop-"

"Being n.o.ble?" she interrupted, her dry voice cutting through his rough one. "Isn't that what you've been doing?"

After a moment, he said, "I don't want to hurt you."

"I know. And you certainly get nine out of ten for effort."

The light comment didn't alter his grim expression. "Ten out of ten, because it stops here." Each word was bitten off sharply with the sound of finality. "If you want to play in the danger zone, pick some other rogue to show you how."

Morgan gazed at the spot where he'd stood long after he was gone. Then, gradually, she began smiling. Things were, she decided cheerfully, definitely looking up.

It was nearly midnight as Jared stood restlessly at the window of his hotel room. His suit jacket and tie had long since been discarded, but he still wore his big automatic in its accustomed shoulder holster, and he needed only to pull on a light jacket if he had to leave in a hurry. Which is what he more or less expected.

It was an unusually clear night for the moment, affording an excellent view of the colorful city lights, but he knew fog was forecast and that it would probably be of the pea-soup variety. Not that the view interested him anyway; his work demanded all the caution of walking a knife's edge, and he had taught himself long ago to focus his concentration. Too often, keeping his mind on business had been a simple matter of life or death.

When the phone finally rang, he turned instantly from the window and picked up the receiver. "h.e.l.lo?"

"I hear things are a little tense between you and Wolfe."

Jared relaxed, but only slightly. "And have you also heard that Morgan talks too much?"

"Yes, I have heard that-but how do you know it was Morgan? It might have been Storm."

"I know Storm. She'll talk to Wolfe about me, but she wouldn't talk to you, Max-not about undercurrents."

Max chuckled. "No, you trained her too well. As a matter of fact, it was Morgan who mentioned it. She said things had been very strained lately."

"Yeah, well-give her two points for observation; it didn't take ESP to see it."

"You want me to talk to him?"

"No, I don't think so." Jared was glancing at his watch as he spoke. "Between his preoccupation with Storm and his hostility toward me, he hasn't had a lot of time to think about what we're doing, and I'd just as soon keep it that way as long as possible. The last thing I want right now is a lot of questions, especially from Wolfe."

Max was silent for a moment, then sighed. "All right, I'll keep out of it. For now."

"Thanks."

"Don't mention it. Have you told Alex about the ballistics report?"

"Not yet. We're supposed to meet tonight."

"How do you think he'll take it?"

"The certain knowledge that Nightshade is in San Francisco and is the one who put a bullet in him? I think he'll do something reckless."

"Like what?"

"I don't know. But the possibilities are making me very nervous. Max, we've still got a few days before the collection is in place and the exhibit ready to open to the public. It's not too late to stop this."

"That isn't an option."

"You're a hardheaded b.a.s.t.a.r.d, you know that?"

"As a matter of fact, I do. Look, relax, will you?" Amus.e.m.e.nt crept into Max's deep voice. "As tense as you are, anybody'd think there was something dangerous going on."

Jared made a rude noise and cradled the receiver without force. His somewhat rueful amus.e.m.e.nt didn't last long, however. He checked his watch and remained by the phone for some minutes, but when it finally rang it pulled him away from the window for a second time.

And, this time, the conversation was much briefer.

"Yeah?"

"You sound impatient. Am I late?"

Jared checked his watch again. "Yes. I was about to go looking for you."

"You wouldn't have found me."

"Don't bet on it."

A soft laugh. "One of these days, we'll put that to the test, you and I."

"If we live long enough, you're on. Now, do we need to meet tonight?"

"I think so. . . ."

The cold fog drifting over the bay began to obscure the distant, hulking outline of Alcatraz, and Quinn was glad. Though it was no longer a place where dangerous criminals were held, the defunct prison and its lonely island continued to be a stark, visible reminder of the price demanded of those who chose to be lawless.

Quinn didn't need the reminder.

Still, as he turned the collar of his jacket up and dug his hands into the pockets, he watched the rocky island until the mist enveloped it and rendered it invisible. It was an eerie sight, the fog creeping over the water toward him while, behind Quinn, the moonlight gleamed down on the city. At least for now, some time after midnight. In another hour, Quinn thought, he probably wouldn't be able to see his hand in front of his face.

He was beginning to really like this city.

"Why the h.e.l.l are we meeting here?"

Quinn had been aware of the presence before he heard or saw anything, so the low voice didn't startle him. "I thought it was rather apt," he murmured in response. "Before the fog rolled in, Alcatraz was s.h.i.+ning like a beacon in the moonlight."

Jared sighed. "Are you getting edgy? You, Alex?" His voice held a very slight note of mockery.

Quinn turned his back on the archaic, mist-enshrouded prison and looked at his companion. "No, but I'll be glad when this is over. I'd forgotten how long the nights get."

"Your choice," Jared reminded him.

"Yeah, I know."

Jared had keen eyes, and the moon was still visible hanging low over the city, so he was able to see the lean face of his brother clearly. "Is your shoulder bothering you?" he asked a bit roughly.

Quinn shrugged, the movement easy and showing no sign of the damage a bullet had caused barely more than a week previously. "No. You know I'm a quick healer."

"Even for a quick healer, that was a nasty wound. You probably should have stayed at Morgan's longer than a few days."

"No," Quinn said. "I shouldn't have done that."

After a moment, Jared said, "So, Max was right."