by Jami Gray
“Heading down,” Kayden said.
Wolf and I split at the halls. He went left, and I took right. After I closed the door on the second room, the faint sound of a toilet flushing drifted from farther down the hall. With no cover, my only choice was a blitz attack. Since we were trying to keep bloodshed to a minimum, I holstered my HK.
The bathroom door opened, and I lunged in, slamming my fist into the guy’s temple, sending him stumbling back into the narrow confines. I followed. He hit the counter with a resounding thump and swung out with an awkward punch. Taking advantage of his sloppy defense, I caught his swinging arm on my forearm, trapping it against my body, forcing him to face the sink. I sank my fist twice into his kidney. While he was trying to breathe, I shifted my stance and twisted his trapped arm into a painful shoulder lock. I followed that with a stunning smack against the back of his skull, which forced his forehead to meet the counter with a resounding thump. Granite was a wonderful thing.
Dropping the dazed guard, I pulled out another zip tie and crouched over him. Once he was trussed and gagged with a wadded-up washcloth and duct tape, I cleaned out his weapons cache. I removed his communication piece and dropped the electronics in the toilet before flushing then gathered his weapons—two handguns—and walked out, closing the door behind me. After tossing the handguns into a cluttered closet in one of the last rooms, I went to join Wolf.
“Top floor, clear,” Tag whispered over the comms. “Heading down west side to second.”
“First floor, clear,” Wolf said as we headed toward the lit staircase.
My foot had just hit the second step when Kayden’s tension-filled voice filled the line. “Possible confirmation on main objective.”
A strained expectancy hung over the line as we all waited for more information.
Kayden said curtly, “Got two guards on door, south-west corner. Hold.”
Frozen in place, I shot Wolf a silent question—was it the colonel? His eyes were unfocused as he tilted his head. A heartbeat passed, and he shook his head. So, either it wasn’t the colonel, or he still couldn’t get a reading. With nothing to go on, we held our position.
A burst of sound—the rasp of movement, muffled grunts, and a pained yip—filled my ear, then Kayden was back. “Guards down, but we’ve got a problem. Colonel’s strapped to a chair, partially conscious. She’s wired to blow.”
“How long?” Wolf asked.
“Four mics, forty and counting,” Rabbit answered sharply.
Fuck. Four minutes and forty seconds was not a lot of time to get the colonel clear and find Hawes. If the fucker was even here. As much as I wanted to trust the voice whispering that he was, there was always a chance it was wrong. There was another way, though.
“Can’t Rabbit do his magic?”
“Negative,” came Rabbit’s voice. “This is one sensitive bitch. One wrong electronic pulse, and none of us will need to worry about evac.”
Rabbit’s evaluation not only solidified my instinct but added a shit ton of urgency to our mission, all of which equated to hauling ass. “Copy that.” I looked at Wolf. He lifted his chin, looking as determined as I felt. It was time to move. Sucking a bracing breath, I said, “Count us down.”
“Copy.” Then Kayden did just that. “Four, thirty-nine.”
“Bishop.” Something in Wolf’s voice and expression brought me to a standstill. I held his gaze. “Got a heads-up from Rico. Hawes knows we’re here.”
For a single moment, his words didn’t register, but when they did, my blood froze. “Megan?”
Wolf’s face was grim. “Rico’s advice is to take him alive.”
Someone on one of the other teams sucked in a sharp breath, and someone else muttered, “Fuck,” but they all waited. For me. Hearing those words and their underlying meaning—that if we killed Hawes, we could kill Megan—sent a soul-numbing fear spiraling through me. All the things I hadn’t been able to tell her spun through my mind, shredding my heart. Yet even as I bled out deep inside, a ruthless voice laid out all the pros and cons of this fucking mission as the soldier in me took over.
“Copy that,” I rasped. Those two words tasted like bitter ash.
With no way but forward, we traded stealth for speed and rushed up the stairs. As Kayden ticked down the clock, we hit the wide second floor, weapons leading the way. A figure rushed from the end of the hall, and Wolf’s gun barked. The figure dropped. I flung open a door to a secondary living room. Empty. Motioning Wolf forward, I covered as he opened the next door.
A flicker of movement made me turn back to the stairs. A guard appeared. Aiming to disable, not kill, my finger squeezed, and my gun coughed. He dropped. Clearing the distance, I found the man clutching his shoulder, his face white and shocked. I kicked his fallen weapon back down the stairs and zip tied his hands.
“Three, fifty.” Kayden’s words accompanied my dash back to Wolf.
“Pinned on back stairs,” Jinx said over the line, accompanied by the sound of gunfire.
With no backup coming and time running out, Wolf and I were left with no choice but to move forward. Tagging Wolf’s shoulder, I approached the double doors with him. We were almost in place when we heard muffled voices coming from inside. We paused, holding our positions. Wolf signaled his intent, and I nodded, waiting until he got in position on the far side of the door before I took a spot on my side.
In my ear, I could hear the murmur of Kayden’s countdown and the occasional sound of gunshots coming from Tag and Jinx’s position. Blocking it all out, I kept my spine against the wall, straightened out my arm, and tapped the butt of my gun against the door then pulled it back fast as I called, “Major General? A word?”
Bullets tore through the door, flinging stinging slivers of wood in their wake. I half turned, dropped into a crouch, and protected my face, waiting for a pause. When it came, it was shorter than expected—a breath only—then another flurry of bullets tore through. The reverberating coughs were deeper, indicating a different weapon. Great. We had two shooters and no telling how many weapons.
The lead rain stopped, leaving long splinters in the doors. No light leaked out, indicating that the people inside were huddled in the dark. Wolf was crouched in a similar position to mine. Using silent hand signals as Kayden’s calm countdown continued—“Three, thirty-five”—we planned.
Breaching the damn room before Hawes decided to rabbit was crucial. Going in blind was a fucking death wish, especially since we’d be backlit, but fueled by an icy fury and a merciless practicality, I was willing to risk it, not just for Megan’s safety but the team’s as well. This fucker needed to go down fast and hard.
Wolf and I hit the doors, breaking through the remains, staying low, weapons up and tracking despite the shadows. Gunfire flashed in the dimness. My training took over, and I returned fire, hearing Wolf do the same. Light from the hall was not quite close enough to illuminate the room. Time lost meaning as we ducked behind darker objects and aimed at the flashes of gunfire. After someone gave a pained grunt, the gunfire lessened. One down. A dark shadow broke away, moving against the windows. Stupid. I aimed, fired. The shadow dropped. For a long moment, the only sound to penetrate the ringing silence was my harsh breathing. Crouched behind what I thought might be a huge-ass chair, I waited, listening and stretching my senses out for a telltale movement.
I counted my heartbeats, time dragging, but I kept perfectly still. Whoever moved first tended to die in situations like this. Moving just my eyes, I caught sight of Wolf lying flat on the floor, half-covered by a low-slung table. He caught my gaze and shifted his eyes upward toward the far corner on my side of the room, just to the side of the huge-ass window. I turned that way and watched the shadows, satisfaction burning bright when they moved. Taking care to keep my movements slow, I brought my gun up and aimed low. The shadow lunged, and I squeezed down on the trigger. The shadowy figure jerked back and then twisted in a futile attempt to abort the fall. The trigger completed its pull, freeing the bullet.
My heart stopped, and time seemed to slow as the bullet hit. The figure dropped, and time sped forward.
Kayden kept count in my ear. “Fifty-eight, fifty-seven…”
Rabbit’s chanted in time, “Almost there, almost there…”
Shoving to my feet, I rushed toward the fallen figure.
Wolf flicked on a light, illuminating a shot-up office.
I got to the body and turned it over. Hawes’s eyes opened, staring at me as his mouth gaped, trying to suck in air. My bullet had gone in just under his arm and ripped through his chest, but I didn’t see an exit wound. Blood bubbled out of his mouth. I knew, fucking knew, what that meant.
“No! God dammit no!” I slammed my hands on the hole, a useless move. “Get me something, Wolf!”
He shoved a couch cushion at me. I held it down over the wound, but Hawes flopped around, his mouth opening and closing like a fish. Everything in me stilled as his gaze met mine, dark with a vicious sort of satisfaction. His bloodied lips curved, revealing bloodstained teeth. His mouth moved, but no sound emerged. A chilling certainty built in me as his eyes rolled back and his body went limp and death claimed his due.
My mind stumbled, and horrified realization tore through my soul. Megan. I’d just killed Megan. “NO!” Hoarse with rage, my voice roared through the room. As if my agony was the trigger, the house shook, and the deafening sound of a bomb shattered the night.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Crawling through the heavy layers of consciousness, bits and pieces of memories sparked like fireflies before falling away. Other sensations trickled in, finally breaching the last suffocating layer, forcing me to wake. My mind was curiously empty but clear. Unwilling to leave the strange peaceful reprieve, I kept my eyes closed and breathed. Winter-laced soap and the faint hint of male hit first, filling every breath I took with a familiar scent. Turning my head, I buried my nose against the heated spot covered in soft cotton. Something warm and strong curled around me. Not quite awake, I rubbed my face against the comforting brush of material and slowly opened my eyes.
Rich chocolate stared back, framed by thick lashes, their depths filled with something indefinable that sank beneath my skin, warming me from the inside out until my lips curved. I reached up and traced the high cheekbones, feeling his burnished skin, then stroked his coarse beard. He turned into my hand, pressing a kiss against my palm.
“Bishop.” A chaotic mix of emotions rose, making my voice husky.
“Hey, babe.” He rubbed his jaw against my hands then shifted his body along mine, forcing me to my back until I was lying beneath him, well and truly captured. Not that I minded. His wild curls fell around his face, adding an irresistible charm that melted my already compromised heart.
He lowered his head and took my lips with a fragile intensity that was quickly replaced by the dual demands of hunger and need. Clothes disappeared in our rush to touch, which slowed as his hands moved over my bare skin, leaving a devastating trail of fire in their wake. His tongue stroked and tangled with mine, leading me through a seductive dance I was more than willing to follow.
His weight settled between my thighs as he indulged. I tangled my hands in his hair, the soft strands like cool silk against my heated skin. His tongue left a line of damp skin as he traced his way down my neck, and erotic chills followed. At the base of my throat, he drew my skin into the heated dampness of his mouth before continuing over the slope of my breast. He cupped the other one, his fingers playing over the aching crest, deepening the restless hunger burning through me.
Hunger, need—it all coiled together, leaving me restless and searching. As he played, so did I, licking where I could, stroking what I could reach, filling my senses with nothing but the strength and heat of Bishop. He was there with me, alive and breathing. Every taste, every touch anchored me, reminding me that this was very real, not some tormenting mind game, and that he was safe and solid in my bed with me. The fear and worry that had been clamped so tightly around my heart slowly eased, replaced by soft gasps and husky moans as desire spread into a wildfire, burning everything it touched.
Bishop was relentless, sending me higher and higher until there was nothing left to hold on to but him. Safe in his arms, I held on tight, letting the feeling sweep me over the peak and send me into a free fall of breath-stealing beauty. All the protective barriers raised in the aftermath of a nightmare and the desperate whispers of a broken mind fell away, leaving me nothing but a single truth that escaped on a soft cry. “I love you.”
After a shared shower that drained most of the hot water, we were back on the bed, but this time, I was in baggy sleep pants and a tank top and he wore low-riding sweats. I curled into his side, not able to stop touching him, reassuring myself that he was really there. I did my damnedest not to think about my blurted confession. It helped that the strange peaceful distance I woke with was long gone and my head was filled with a tangle of questions.
Bishop was carefully stroking his fingers through my wet hair as I listened to his heart’s solid beat under my ear. “I can hear your mind spinning.”
I was tracing distracted patterns against his bare chest, avoiding the newest additions to his battle wounds from the previous night, only hours old. My pulse stuttered. “It’s a mess in there. Sure you’re ready for it?”
His arm tightened, pulling me closer, as he chuckled. “Hit me.”
I started with the easiest one. “Is everyone okay? The colonel? The team?”
“Yeah, everyone’s good. Doc told the colonel to take it easy for a couple days. Guess Hawes used an injection to keep her compliant because she was pretty out of it when they found her.”
Relief swept through me. “What happened?”
The hand in my hair stilled for a moment. Then it resumed. “What do you remember?”
His question unlocked the gate holding the memories back. It swung open under the rush of images, and my muscles tensed as I remembered, fear washing aside my earlier relief. “I thought I’d pulled you into the dreamscape and screwed everything up. You were furious, and I knew…” The mouth-drying fear and sickening guilt made a comeback. I shivered and tried again. “I knew I’d betrayed you and the team.”
He stopped petting and wrapped me in a tight hug. “I thought I’d killed you.”
Startled by his statement and by the pain coloring his voice, I craned my neck to see his face. “What?”
“I shot Hawes. I wasn’t aiming for a kill shot, but he tripped, and the bullet took him in the chest. By the time I got to him, he was critical, but…” A dark look swept over his face. “I thought he took you with him when he died, and it would’ve been my fault.”
Unable to resist, I cupped his jaw and looked in his eyes, pulling him back from whatever nightmare he was watching. I didn’t say anything. It was up to him if he wanted to share, and nothing I said would help ease what he believed. This whole situation was rife with guilt and pain on both sides.
His gaze drifted over my face. “Right before we cornered Hawes, Ricochet warned Wolf that Hawes had you trapped—that we needed to take him alive.”
He stopped again, but it didn’t matter. I understood what lay behind the emotional chaos hovering like a storm cloud. He’d tried to protect me, going for a nonlethal hit, and thought he’d failed. Just like I thought I had failed. If Hawes hadn’t been dead already, I’d have happily dragged his ass back and killed him all over again just as payback for the pain on Bishop’s face.
Bishop vibrated with fury. He said in a low, hard, tone, “The fucker smiled at me. He couldn’t say shit, since he was drowning in his own blood, but he looked so damn smug… I was sure he was taking you with him.”
We held each other’s gaze, the quiet between us filled with so much. I had no idea where to start, but I wasn’t about to rush in with some inane comment. Instead, I went back through those heart-stopping moments after I’d thought Hawes had won. “He fooled me,” I admitted softly. “He does that… did that. But it never lasted. He
always screwed up when he took the faces of those I love. This time, it was nothing major, just little things.” I gave him a small smile and hoped it wasn’t shaky. “It took me a few seconds to realize it wasn’t you screaming at me. It helped that Ricochet decided to dive-bomb us.”
“Dive-bomb?” Bishop asked.
I rubbed my chin against his chest. “Yeah, he decided to hang out in the dreamscape as a raven. He figured Hawes wouldn’t pay attention to the animals.” Because the arrogant ass had been a telepath and not a dream-walker, he’d never clued in to the subtler imagery dream-walkers excelled in, and Ricochet was a freaking master. I had a hell of a lot to learn still. “But the distraction worked because Hawes was so busy trying to avoid Ricochet’s talons that he was ignoring me. His control slipped just long enough for me to regain control of the dreamscape.”
Bishop frowned. “Ricochet thought you’d lost control, which is why he wanted Hawes alive.”
A blush rose to my cheeks. “Yeah, that was my fault. When I snatched the dreamscape from Hawes, I accidentally pushed Ricochet out.” I still had no idea how I’d managed that.
Bishop’s looked at me sharply. “Wait, so when Hawes tripped—”
“It was probably when he was dodging Ricochet.”
“Well, shit.”
“Yeah.”
The AC kicked on, and we just lay there. All my whirling questions slowed and drifted away, leaving one question behind. Trying not to reveal just how important it was, I fought to keep my tone normal. “Now what?”
“Now we deal with the fallout,” Bishop answered, totally misinterpreting my question, as he rolled me under him. It seemed to be his preferred position, and having all that sexy heat and muscle blanketing me tended to make my brain skip. When it got back on track, and before I could find a graceful way to redirect, he continued. “It won’t be easy. The colonel’s going to be stuck answering a ton of questions. We still have no idea who else was working Hawes or if he was really connected to Falcon, but Rabbit’s determined to unearth every one of Hawes’s secrets. Once he does, we’ll have to figure out our next steps.”