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Elysia By Deborah McNemar

The third book in the Pantheon series


“Can you tell Dr Galloway that Andrew Fairchild is here to see her?” Thanatos watched the desk Security key the message into the com. There was a brief pause and a reply beeped. Security’s eyebrows shot upward and he gave a soundless whistle.

“Um, sir? Dr Galloway says that you don’t have an appointment. If you like, I can get the number to her office for you.”

Thanatos stifled a spurt of dark humor. That was quite a fluff job on the four-word message: Not in this lifetime.

“That’s not necessary, thank you. I have the number. However, Mr Bellinger authorized me the use of a loaner. Can you direct me to the parking area, please?”

Obviously relieved that he was going to be reasonable, Security verified the authorization and gave him directions to the parking area. Thanatos thanked him and headed down the hallway indicated.

His muscles ached, reminding him that he still wasn’t back to full strength. That would take rest and relaxation, neither of which were likely to happen in his immediate future. Lengthening his stride, he drew his personal com from his pocket and keyed in a number.

“I need that tag trace after all. I’m chasing rabbits.”

Once out of sight of the desk, he broke into a jog, waiting for the information. Shoving through the door into the parking levels, he paused, taking in the gray cement with a sweeping look. The intel came through along with a pithy remark on rabbit stew that made his eyes gleam. “I agree to an extent, but thanks for the trace.”

Tucking his com into his pocket, he headed for the maintenance stairs that spiralled upward. Two levels up, he vaulted the railing and headed for the southwest corner. The black car sat in its parking space and a woman bent toward the driver’s door, keying a code into the lock.

Thanatos was on her before the door could trigger, grabbing her hands and pinning her face first against the vehicle. To her credit, she didn’t scream. He held her like that for a moment before flipping her around to stare down into the sharp, elegant face he’d never forgotten.

“Hello, Sierra. Miss me?”

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