Daemon

his phone as he pulled away from the curb. He smiled grimly as he saw Ross flip him off in the rearview mirror. Then he answered the phone. ‘Sebeck.’
    A woman’s voice said, ‘Nothing can kill you, can it, Pete?’
    He felt his pulse accelerate. It was
her
. When had he last heard her voice? How long ago?
This phone line is tapped
. ‘Cheryl, I’m heading to the office. Call me there.’
    The line went dead. Sebeck stowed his phone, then drove a couple of blocks. He pulled over in a residential area, then looked in the rearview mirror. No one watching. He got out and opened the tailgate of the Durango. Sebeck reached down into the spare tire well and came up with a bright red prepaid,disposable cell phone. He closed the tailgate, looked around again, then got back in the Durango and plugged the phone into his car lighter. Moments later the little phone chirped, and he grabbed it.
    ‘God, it’s great to hear your voice. Things have been crazy. We lost two men today. I’ve got more in the hospital.’
    ‘I know. I caught the news in the terminal at O’Hare.’
    ‘You’re in Chicago?’ He knew better than to ask too much.
    ‘No. Westwood.’
    ‘At the
company suite
?’
    ‘You’ll come meet me.’
    ‘Oh God, baby.’ Sebeck sighed. ‘This is a
really
bad time. This Daemon thing is—’
    ‘You survived, Pete. I’ll make you remember why you want to be alive.’
    That she would. Sebeck was quiet for a moment. Cheryl Lanthrop was the most beautiful woman he had ever been with. Her predatory sexuality made it even harder to resist. It was unfair that he should be
expected
to resist a woman like her. He had convinced himself that even his wife would understand.
    Still, it was a bad time to disappear. But they could reach him by phone, couldn’t they? The Feds would probably be busy tearing apart CyberStorm’s network all night. And Sobol’s estate? Hell, there were hundreds of police surrounding it. If he got caught, no man alive would think less of him.
    He hesitated. ‘I’m just …’ He couldn’t find words.
    ‘Only you know what you want, Pete.’
    He already knew he was going. He was someone else entirely with her. His responsibilities faded away. His goals were here and now – the conquest of her. And that’s what it required: conquest.
    ‘I’m on my way.’
    Wilshire Boulevard between Beverly Hills and WestwoodVillage was a canyon of tony high-rises one row deep. The buildings seemed out of place in Los Angeles, as though someone had grafted a piece of Manhattan’s Upper East Side to L.A.’s suburban grid. This was the location of Cheryl’s corporate condo.
    Cheryl was some sort of medical executive. In one of his fits of curiosity about her, Sebeck had run a background check. She had a surprisingly benign past; good premed education, clean credit, no criminal record. Her employer sold and installed complex medical diagnostic systems, and she traveled the world consulting on multi-million-dollar deals. She had money – the type of money Sebeck could only dream about. And she had perks, like the corporate suite at this copper-roofed faux French provincial tower.
    Sebeck still had a parking card, so he was able to avoid the doorman. His face was still in the news, and he wasn’t anxious to be seen in the vicinity.
    As he exited the elevator on the fifteenth floor, he peered both ways down the hall to be sure no one was in sight. As he approached Cheryl’s door, Sebeck noticed it was slightly open. He looked around warily, then nudged it in. Cheryl stood beneath a halogen spotlight near the entryway. She wore a black cocktail dress with spaghetti straps. Black stockings with garters, visible below the hemline, wrapped her long legs and shapely, shoeless feet. Her auburn hair sparkled in the light. She smirked and curled a finger at him. She was even more beautiful than he remembered. Worth losing everything for.
    Sebeck moved toward her, closing the door behind him. He knew better than to expect consolation from her. What they shared was different. Just before he reached her, she pirouetted and ducked her head low, bringing a roundhouse kick straight at his head. He saw it coming and grabbed her leg just in time. The impact sent him back against the wall.
    She followed it with an open-hand karate punch towardhis face. He ducked back, releasing her leg. ‘No bruising! Cheryl—’
    ‘Shhhh.’ She put a painted fingernail to his lips.
    Sebeck took the moment to grab her wrist,