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Immovable Objects
By Marie Ferrarella Harlequin Enterprises, Ltd.
Copyright © 2004 Harlequin Enterprises, Ltd.
All right reserved. ISBN: 0-373-27375-4
Chapter One
The man known simply as Titan to his enemies, head of the mysterious Titan Syndicate, was very aware of his surroundings as he walked the dusky, mean streets of Philadelphia.
This was not the Philadelphia of the Founding Fathers. It was raw and edgy and dangerous. Still, a rare note of fondness vibrated within him. He'd preferred Chicago, but even Philly was better than being exiled in Europe.
Europe had not been to his liking. But staying there had been necessary. Otherwise, all he would have seen of his native country would have been the inside of a jail cell.
Because small minds didn't understand.
The FBI had been breathing down his neck then.
But now the tables were turned and he was a problem for them, not the other way around. He enjoyed taunting, being one step ahead. He'd even taken to sending enigmatic postcards to that dolt Agent Liam Brooks. It excited him to be the thorn in that idiot's side.
Peasants, all of them, stupid Neanderthal peasants with their insignificant lives, their annoying laws and their narrow way of seeing things. Didn't they realize that he was a genius? A genius who saw potential for power, for greatness, while others sleepwalked through their humdrum existences, paying attention to confining things likeright and wrong. Allowing that narrow view to get in the way of progress.
Yes, he did enjoy leading them around by their noses, these tin demigods with their code of ethics and their long arms. Just because that stupid New York senator had overdosed on the drug. His drug. The "honorable" senator had been an unwitting guinea pig, a step closer to the right direction.
But the drug wasn't quite ready yet.
And the FBI was looking for him, or someone like him.
The anal fools had blown up his lab in Chicago, killing some of his people. People were replaceable, time was not. They were preventing him from perfecting the drug that would ultimately allow him to control key people. Allow him to be a puppet master until he was ready to take center stage, where he rightfully belonged.
But that day was still on the horizon. Right now, in order to complete his experiments, reach the right kind of chemical balance, he needed more information. More key input.
And he needed to find those brats again, all six of them.
Even if he had to move heaven and earth and destroy all the angels in the process to do it, he would reach his goal. He was born to be a leader. It was his due, his right.
It wasn't by chance that he'd selected for himself the name of Titan.
"Missing? What do you mean it's missing?"
The resonant voice bounced around the sleek, four-hundred-square-foot office on the top floor of the Williams Media Building. Not a man easily ruffled, Cole Williams found himself on his way to furious over this unexpected little bomb that had just been dropped in his lap.
These kinds of things did not just "happen," they were orchestrated.
Ice-blue eyes, known to freeze people far braver than Jack Dobson, narrowed as Cole looked at the man who had come into his domain bearing the news. "A priceless statue doesn't just walk away on its own."
"No, sir, it doesn't, but when we opened the crate it was supposed to be in - it wasn't there." His oversize Adam's apple bobbed up and down like a cork that refused to be sunk. "Mr. Hagen doesn't know what to make of it. He's looking into it right now." Dobson's voice cracked.
Taylor Hagen was the chief investigator kept on retainer by Cole. He had witnessed the statue being crated and then followed the van transporting it.
Terrific, Cole thought.
(Continues...)
Excerpted from Immovable Objects by Marie Ferrarella Copyright © 2004 by Harlequin Enterprises, Ltd.. Excerpted by permission.
All rights reserved. No part of this excerpt may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the publisher.
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