Free Fever by Maya Banks Page B

Stover shook her head regretfully. “No. But she comes through every so often. She’s stayed
    here before.”
    “Do you know anything about her? Anything at all that would help me find her?” Jace said urgently.
    Then he tempered his eagerness and adopted a calmer tone. “I’d prefer to hire her but I can’t keep the
    job open forever. It’s imperative I locate her at once.”
    He was going to hell for lying to an elderly woman, especially one who ran a shelter for women
    who were no doubt abused by bastards who’d lie just as he was lying. But no way was he ever going
    to hurt Bethany. If he could find her, he’d make damn certain she didn’t spend another night on the
    streets. The idea of her being there now made him want to put his fist through the wall, and that
    definitely wouldn’t go over well in a women’s shelter.
    “I’m sorry, but no. She’s very quiet when she’s here. Keeps to herself. I did give her the name of a
    few other shelters but I’m sure she’s familiar with them all.”
    “I want those names,” Jace said flatly. “How long?”
    Her eyebrows went up in question.
    “How long has she been coming here?”
    “I’ve only been working here a year, but in that time she’s come in maybe a half dozen times.”
    Jace’s chest tightened until it was difficult for him to breathe. Bethany—his Bethany—was
    homeless. She’d been in his arms, safe, for one night, and with all his wealth, the ability to provide
    the very thing she needed the most, he had let her slip away. Back into the cold and uncertainty.
    God, even now, she was somewhere on the streets. Without a coat. Cold. Hungry. No protection.
    “Do me a favor please, Ms. Stover.”
    He shoved his card back into her hand, closing her fingers around it.
    “If you see her again, you call me immediately. Day or night. My cell number is on here. Call me
    the minute you see her and don’t let her out of your sight until I get here. Can you do that for me?”
    Ms. Stover frowned, and she looked at him oddly. He was quick to excuse his urgency before she
    became suspicious again and blew his story all to hell.
    The hell of it was, he absolutely did sound like some deranged, obsessed, abusive boyfriend bent
    on hunting down his runaway lover. Jesus. If Ash could see and hear him, he’d have Gabe down here
    and they’d both physically subdue and haul his ass out of here. Then they’d likely hire him a fucking
    shrink.
    “I’m sympathetic to her plight, Ms. Stover. She’s a qualified candidate, and now that I know her
    circumstances are what they are, it’s even more important that she be the one to receive my offer. I
    could hire someone else, but she needs the job. Can you contact me please?”
    He was proud of his even tone. He’d even managed to convince himself he hadn’t lost his fucking
    mind.
    Ms. Stover relaxed and then smiled, tucking the card into her pocket. “I’ll call you if I see her.”
    “Thank you,” Jace said.
    Then he gazed around the room at the women huddled on the cots and in the chairs and on the
    couch. And he tried to control the anger that rushed through his veins.
    “You’ll get your heat, Ms. Stover.”
    Her eyes widened.
    Even as he turned to walk back out to his car, he pulled his cell from his pocket and began to make
    calls.
    chapter eight
    Bethany shook violently as she stumbled across an intersection. It took all her concentration to
    remain upright. One foot in front of the other. If she fell now, she’d be run over. New York drivers
    weren’t exactly pedestrian friendly.
    She picked up her head, her breath blowing out in a fog and she saw the church just one block
    down. She was nearly there. A whispered prayer fell from her lips. Please, God. Let them have room
    today.
    Some of the numbness had worn off. Some of the shock had crumbled and reality pushed in. She
    turned her palms up, seeing the scrapes and the blood. Her pants were torn at her knees and at her hip
    and there were