Copyright 2011, Cassiel Knight
All rights reserved, Lyrical Press, Inc.

Sidra’s first thought when she saw the new constable the next morning was that at least Control hadn’t assigned her a rookie.

Her new partner stood near the large one-way reflective plasti mirror talking to Control. Sidra stopped just inside the door to study the addition to her team. Dark brown hair salted with sandy highlights topped a face with strong features that held a certain sensuality. Ice blue eyes finished the picture.

Constable Ballentine was not a pretty boy, like Kar or Seth. Dressed in black pants and a matching shirt with utility belt strapped to his lean waist, he emanated waves of confidence and solid strength. No, definitely not pretty. He looked ... dangerous.

The identity chip on Ballentine’s collar showed he had at least five years in Triad and maybe as many as ten. He’d been in as long as she. She wondered why he’d transferred from New Seattle. She’d always heard those agents received promotions at a much faster rate. Didn’t make sense to transfer from an advantage-laden unit to one most agents transferred out of. Unless the agent had something to prove. Or some hidden agenda.

When he shifted position to lean against the table, Sidra cocked her head. Was there something about his stance that seemed familiar? He certainly didn’t strike her as someone she had met in the past, but that way of standing--ankles crossed, backside resting on the table’s edge, arms braced behind him--had an eerie resemblance to someone she once knew.

“Constable Elvenstri, this is Constable Gideon Ballentine from New Seattle.” Control interrupted Sidra’s musings. She moved farther into the room. “Gideon’s an expert in hand-to-hand and tech.”

“Constable Elvenstri.” A smile tipped the corners of Ballentine’s mouth.

Jupiter’s moons. He had dimples. Only one man she’d ever known had dimples, and that had been when he was just a young man. She hadn’t seen him in ten years. On Ballentine, they were deep, as though he smiled a lot. Kinda ruined his bad boy look. Not in a defective way.

“I’ve heard a lot about you,” he continued. “It’s a pleasure to have the opportunity to work with you.”

Her lips twisted. Sure it was. She’d heard the stories told about her. A ball-breaker with ice in her veins. But, okay, she’d be nice. She gave him a curt nod. “Constable Ballentine.”

Promptly forgetting her be-nice decision, she turned to Control, dismissing Ballentine and his sexy dimples. “Sir, any word on the identity of the UAC?”
She had relayed every detail of her encounter with the UAC, unknown aggressive contact, to Control. Well...every detail but the surprising thrill she’d felt when the stranger had pressed his body to hers.

Those tingles had absolutely no bearing on her performance. Her reaction had been excitement over locating and freeing the captives. It had nothing to do with her overactive hormones.

Right.