Everything they’d fought for, worked for, all the good they’d done, would be forgotten. Their legacy, sketchy as it was, would be lost forever.
And for what? Because somebody had screwed up, big time, and was still obsessed with covering up after themselves.
She had to understand this. He would make her understand. If he could only pin her down long enough to do so, but she was like water running through his fingers. She had been all along. It couldn’t come as a surprise that she was who she was, how she was. She’d been slipping in and out of their lives for months, toying with them all along.
Toying with him.
He realized he hadn’t seen the flash of light against glass for a while. Too long. “Damn it,” he growled, flooring the gas pedal in spite of the road’s twists.
“What happened?” Hawk barked. This was personal for him too, no matter how the hacker complimented his skills. She’d run roughshod over him, to put it mildly, and he wanted nothing more than to balance accounts.
“I lost sight of her,” he announced with a sinking heart. “Don’t ask me how.” He slammed his palm against the wheel, letting out the growl which had built in his throat. The wolf’s growl.
“She wasn’t about to let you off that easy.” If he didn’t know better, Logan would’ve thought he heart admiration in Val’s voice.
“She can’t hide herself forever. What the--?” He slammed on the breaks when a car seemed to materialize out of nowhere, parked halfway in the road, halfway off.
“Logan? What happened?” Val shouted over the squealing of the breaks. Logan cut the wheel, sending the truck careening into the woods to avoid a crash.
He came to a stop, the world suddenly silent. There was nothing so chilling as the sound of silence after something like that. “I’m okay,” he grunted, looking over his shoulder to the car he’d just about killed himself trying to avoid. “Her car’s in the road. I’m gonna check it out.”
“She might’ve rigged it,” Val warned. “Maybe you should keep your distance.”
“No. I don’t think so.” He slid his pistol from its holster and crept from the truck to the car which he now saw was empty. Was Val right? Had their playful hacker turned murderous?
“What makes you so sure?” Val sounded beside herself. He’d never heard her like this—normally, she was as calm and level-headed as the rest of them.
“I can’t say. I feel it.”
“You feel it?”
“My feelings are rarely off,” he snapped in a hushed voice, creeping close to the car. He might’ve trusted the hacker as far as not rigging his death, but that didn’t mean he was about to traipse over to the car and have a seat. There could still be something waiting for him.
It barely occurred to him that she might’ve been in danger, that someone might’ve rigged a trap for her to fall into. Maybe she wasn’t quite as good as she thought she was. Maybe their group wasn’t the only group she was playing games with—and maybe they weren’t as forgiving, as willing to play along for the sake of learning what they needed to know.
All of this and so much more raced through his head as he drew closer. The doors were closed, the engine off. Whatever had happened, she’d had the time to kill the engine. The images from Lydia’s supposed disappearance flashed before him—she’d left the car door open, as if she’d been caught unawares by someone or something.
Was this meant to be a callback to that?
“She’s a real piece of work,” he muttered, more to himself than for the benefit of the people listening in. There was a note tucked beneath one of the wipers. I warned you not to. I don’t give second warnings.
Crumpling the paper in his fist, he turned in a slow circle. Was she out there? Watching from behind a tree? No, he decided, taking note of another set of tire tracks. “She had a vehicle waiting here,” he sighed as he holstered his weapon. “One of my own tricks, used against me.”
“The girl knows what she’s doing,” Val mused, again sounding like she admired her.
“Yeah. But that’s the sort of thing that gets a person killed,” he grunted, looking around once again before returning to the truck. “She’s cocky. She’s gonna make a mistake with that attitude of hers.”
He could only hope she made it after giving his team what they needed. After that? To hell with her.
Chapter Four
“Dad? I’m here!” Jenna left the grocery bags on the counter for a minute in favor of checking to see that her father was positioned in front of the TV, as always. He stared at the screen, not flinching when she called out.
As always.
She took a look around to make sure everything was in place, that he hadn’t done anything while she was gone. He was capable of getting up and going to the bathroom when he needed to—thank God for that—and could bathe and feed himself but was otherwise helpless.
The part of his brain the stroke locked away forever was still locked tight. What did she expect? For a miracle to have taken place while she was gone?
“I see you ate,” she murmured, approving. His fruit and bagel were gone, his coffee cup empty. “Good thing.”
She took the plate and cup to the kitchen and started putting away the groceries. “So, I met him,” she called out as she worked. Was he listening? It was possible. Just like people in a coma were still able to hear and understand the things said to them, she had to believe her father was the same way, that he understood everything.
He just couldn’t react or respond.
“I swear,” she chuckled. “How they manage to tie their shoes in the morning is beyond me. What a bunch of idiots! I mean, okay, maybe they’re not completely stupid. They’re just… predictable, which is disappointing. I guess I was expecting more.”
She stopped for a second, standing in front of the sink where dishes had magically piled up. It was so easy to fall behind in the housework while she was doing everything she could to stay alive. “I guess the only way to avoid disappointment is to have no expectations. Right? Isn’t that something you used to say?”
Nothing. Just the sound of a game show being played, a contestant squealing with excitement as they won something. She sighed, letting her head fall down between her shoulders. So tired. She was so tired.
Now that the game was over for the day and she could be herself—no more excitement, no more wondering what was in store once she finally came face to face with the legendary Logan—she took a few deep breaths and allowed herself to unwind. Her neck and shoulders were tight, her back a mass of knots.
“I’m gonna take a shower,” she announced after the groceries were put away, resting a hand on her father’s shoulder. She winced at how much smaller and thinner it was now than it had been when he was in his prime. Active, fit, the two of them going for their daily run together. Those days were gone.
He barely flinched even when she touched him.
At least the water in the little rental house was hot and plentiful. She crossed her arms against the tiled wall, breathing slowly and deeply as hot water ran over her back and loosened her bit by bit. When was the last time she’d had a massage? When was the last time she’d done anything normal?
That was easy. Just before her induction. Back when she was a normal kid.
Not that she was ever normal, not really. A computer whiz praised by her teachers as being a genius. She’d surpassed them when their backs were turned until finally it was clear that normal schooling wasn’t enough for her. That was when the online classes had started.
And when she’d gotten bored with that, she’d started investigating other avenues of entertainment like network engineering and hacking. Just for the thrill of it at first, competing with faceless, nameless friends she’d met in online forums, seeing which of them could pull off the biggest job.
But on the outside, nobody would’ve known. She was the golden girl. Daddy’s sweetheart. It had been her idea to join the Army—at least, that was what she’d told herself. The fact that her fat
her was a general, that her entire life had revolved around his service, had undoubtedly played a part.
When the water started to cool, Jenna knew she’d spent more than enough time in the shower. She finished washing up and toweled off quickly, poking her head into the living room to make sure everything was okay before retreating to her room.
That was her life, the rhythm of her days. She couldn’t do anything without checking on him first. Sure, she’d left him alone for a couple of hours—there were times when it simply had to be done—and he managed to take care of himself.
But there was always that nagging voice in the back of her mind, the voice that reminded her of him, of his needs, his safety, his health. Her life had stopped being her own.
Then again, that had been the case since before the stroke—way before.
Her pills sat on the dresser, and she popped one just like she did every day. There were still dozens of bottles in the safe. She checked them all the time, sometimes getting out of bed at night to count them, making sure they were there, that she was safe.
What would happen when they ran out? Dozens only meant years. Three years of pills. Three years of staving off what was inside her.
And no chance of getting more, not with her father the way he was.
She met her eyes in the mirror, noticing the worry lines at the corners that made her look older than she was. Who wouldn’t? The things she’d been through would be enough to knock even the strongest person to their knees.
Logan had gotten through his challenges, hadn’t he? They all had. A smile flitted across her face. She almost wished she hadn’t left the burner phone in the abandoned car—after removing the card and wiping the prints, of course.
He could relate. For once, she knew somebody who could relate. It was exciting in a way, like finding out she wasn’t the only person on an otherwise empty continent. Somebody was out there who might really understand. She might not have to hold everything inside anymore.
But not yet, not until she was sure he was worthy, that they all were.
If they weren’t? It would be time to move again.
The worry lines came back, and she had to turn away from the mirror. No sense freaking out about things that hadn’t happened and might not ever happen. Things could finally work out this time. They might not have to run. Maybe they could stay. Maybe she could get her father the care he needed, and—wonder of wonders—she could have a life of her own.
It was almost too much to ask for, enough to make her chest tighten as she brushed out her wet hair and braided it. A life for herself. What would she do with it? There was no way of knowing. Too many choices. Travel? Starting a business of her own?
Or maybe she could work for a company like Logan’s. That sort of work was tailor-made for her skills. For once, she’d be able to work out in the open where she’d be praised for her contributions like it was back in the day when she was serving.
Before…
She shook off the memories, pushing them far back. Dwelling wasn’t any help. Only action could make life any better.
“What are your thoughts about a light lunch?” she asked when she entered the living room, opening the drapes so her dad could get some sun. He didn’t like going outside. Sure, he’d never said out loud that he didn’t like it, but he tended to dig his heels in whenever she tried to lead him out there.
He used to be so into the outdoors too. He’d always been tan no matter what time of year, his skin golden and glowing. They’d both lost so much.
When she thought about it that way, she hoped he didn’t know what was going on around him. Better not to dwell on what he’d lost. Better to just… float along, the way he seemed to, watching game shows and talk shows and pretty much anything but the news.
He didn’t like the news either—another thing that had changed since he used to be a news junkie. How many years would pass before she stopped comparing the father she’d been left with to the father she’d never had the chance to say goodbye to?
Not that anybody had the chance to say goodbye when their parent had a stroke. Nobody got a note in the mail the day before letting them know they’d better be ready for the worst.
But those people normally had nobody to blame.
That wasn’t the case for her or her dad. There was somebody to blame, most definitely. Somebody who’d get what they deserved if it was the last thing she ever did—and knowing them the way she did, it might very well be the last thing.
So long as she lived long enough to see them destroyed.
She sat in the chair beside her father’s, a table between them. “What are you watching?” she asked, not expecting a response. She’d stopped expecting one long ago. “Oh, I love this show! I’m so glad they brought it back. I remember watching it when I was little, me and Mom. They used to play it in the mornings back then. I always tried to figure out the pattern behind how the lights moved over the board. I was so sure if I could make it onto the show, I’d bankrupt them because I’d be able to tell when the jackpot would light up every time.”
She turned to him, smiling, but he was as blank-faced as ever. The skin on his cheeks was starting to sag. “You’re gonna look like a bulldog soon, old man,” she snickered even as her heart sank. “We have to get you moving more. You know how it is. When you sit still for too long, you start aging. You’re too young to look like this.”
Even that didn’t make him stir. He stared at the screen, his eyes darting back and forth as the various squares on the playing board lit up. At least he was able to follow that much. It gave her hope.
Hope that he wasn’t completely lost, that he might come back to her one day.
Hope that the hot shot somebody had injected into him wouldn’t be the end of him.
Hope that she would bring them to justice—with or without Logan’s help.
Chapter Five
“You know how dangerous this could be.” Doc looked and sounded as serious as ever, standing in the doorway to Logan’s office. He wasn’t as large as the rest of them, not having the whole shifter thing on his side, but he still had a commanding presence.
“What would you suggest then? Sure, we can have a meeting with all of us being in different locations, but it’s not the same as seeing each other in person. Besides,” Logan added, “it’ll mean a lot to see all of you again. It’s been a while since we’ve all been together.”
“This isn’t the time for a family reunion.”
Logan looked up at him, torn between respect for the fact that he would speak up like this and aggravation at the fact that he was speaking up like this. “Nobody said it was a family reunion,” he snapped, giving Doc a warning look. “Since when do you push back so hard on something so benign?”
“I think we both know the stakes had never been higher.” Doc folded his arms, giving Logan an appraising sort of look like he was a patient in need of diagnosis. “And I think that girl got under your skin.”
Logan scoffed, glaring. “Who said a word about her? I haven’t even thought about her since yesterday.”
Doc’s head tipped to the side, light gleaming off his smoothly shaved head. “Are you sure about that? No offense, but there’s a note of guilt in your voice and defensiveness, which doesn’t bode well, either.”
“I thought you were a medical doctor, not a shrink. I don’t need your opinion right now, okay?” He stood, facing his old friend squarely. “Listen. You know I don’t like throwing my weight around here unless I absolutely have to—and it looks like I absolutely have to since you can’t seem to take me at my word. Since when do you question me this way?”
“Since the shadow group is onto us. Since they clearly knew of our general location, or else they couldn’t have sent assassins to destroy us—Aimee can back that up,” he added. “She told us, didn’t she? They know our general location, if not the specifics.”
Logan leaned on the desk, his palms pressed flat against the surface. He hated the fact that they were clammy,
a symbol of the uncertainty that was so foreign to him. “I don’t know what else to do. Really, if you have a better plan, I would like to hear about it.”
That got through to Doc, making him back down a step. “I feel I would be remiss if I didn’t express my doubts, that’s all.”
Logan absorbed this, nodding slowly. “And you know I appreciate your honesty. That’s not just lip service. I mean it. I’ve never wanted to be the sort of leader who expects their judgment to be accepted blindly. If I’m making a mistake, I expect you guys to tell me so, but in the end, my word goes. And we need to get together; we need to brainstorm. We can’t effectively work together when we’re all off God knows where.”
Doc shrugged. “You’re right. Your word is law. I’ll meet you out there.” There was resignation in the way he carried himself, walking down the hall with a slight limp thanks to his prosthesis. Otherwise, nobody would ever know he’d lost part of his leg.
They’d all lost something, hadn’t they? But not all of their losses showed on the surface.
The cot in Logan’s office had never looked so inviting. He’d set it up in the beginning knowing there would be late nights, early mornings, entire days when he wouldn’t be able to go home. After getting virtually no sleep the night before, the one thing his body wanted more than anything else was forty winks.
There was time for that. There would be time. There had to be.
Just not right now.
He strode down the hall, emerging into the control center. Everyone was there. When was the last time they had a full house like this?
Jace shot him a smile. “There he is, our fearless leader.”
“Do I hear a snide snicker in there?” They shared a laugh. “How’s Kara?”
“Doing well. She’s upstate visiting Krista with her mom. Things are looking good—they expect Krista to be able to leave the hospital soon.” They had first made the acquaintance of the Collins family when Kara received death threats. As the daughter of a US senator, her safety was of the utmost importance. Her father had hired them only for everyone involved to find out that Kara’s sister had not been killed in a car accident as a child, the way the senator had explained it. Instead, she’d been held hostage for years, brainwashed, trained as a killer.
Wolf Shield Investigations: Boxset Page 101