Return to Duty

by Elizabeth Hollows

  It would be hell, but Jay was thankful IA hadn’t sent him to a jungle. Jay would take a hot, sand-coated environment over a humid, overgrown and bug-filled forest. The Carana Desert would be pleasant by comparison.

  Stepping forward, Jay clicked his tongue to get Brutus trotting along behind him.

  The trail was weathered from centuries of use and was easy to follow. Luckily there were no unstable patches. He led the quagga through the landscape without issue, feeling grateful that there were no snakes or other poisonous wildlife. The city sounds began to fade the farther they walked and the heavy footfalls of their quaggas echoed around the rock, but Jay and Tristan were silent.

  Everything went peacefully until they reached the first cavern. The tunnel wasn’t long and there was enough light filtering through the holes in the rock that it was well illuminated, but the enclosed space unnerved the quaggas. Jay gave Brutus a soft pat and stood in front of the equine. He murmured encouragement as he coaxed the quagga to follow him inside. The animal remained unhappy about entering the cave but he seemed to trust Jay’s soothing voice and comforting strokes. They made it down the first slope and to a wider stretch of track without further problems. Jay stopped Brutus but continued to pat him as he waited for Tristan.

  Unfortunately, the agent’s quagga wasn’t as cooperative.

  Tristan was trying to guide the animal inside, but Rinax was refusing, shaking his head and stamping his feet. The agent was becoming increasingly frustrated. His voice was rising and becoming laced with irritation. That was only making the situation worse.

  Moving to Brutus’ side, Jay opened the small bag attached to the quagga’s saddle and pulled out a corded pouch. After nudging it open with his fingers, Jay plucked out a sugar cube. Brutus was already turning to him with interest. Jay gave the treat to the quagga, who munched on it happily. Feeling confident that Brutus would stay inside the cavern, Jay patted the quagga one more time before making his way over to Tristan and Rinax.

  “Here,” Jay said when he reached them. He held out a sugar cube to the agent. “Tempt him with this and soften your voice.”

  Tristan didn’t look pleased by Jay’s involvement, but he did as he’d suggested.

  Rinax remained unhappy, but the sugary sweet tempted him to follow Tristan inside. When they’d joined Brutus, Tristan let the quagga eat his reward. Jay slipped the satchel of cubes back into his pocket before taking Brutus’ reins. The quagga’s lips followed his hand, hoping to find more treats. Jay chuckled and showed him there was nothing there. Brutus huffed out a disappointed breath and Jay gave him a fond pat before leading him deeper inside.

  The cavern was large, with the path big enough for them to stand side by side with the quaggas following behind. It was cooler as well, the beating sun unable to touch them through the dense rock. It was almost peaceful, but relaxing wasn’t a luxury they had access to on a mission. He’d been briefed on anything that IA found relevant, though not Tristan’s strengths and weaknesses. It was time to ask a few questions.

  “Have you ever used quaggas before?”

  There were a few seconds silence before Tristan admitted, “No.”

  Jay winced. He wished he’d known that before. They could have hired something else. It didn’t bode well for their mission if Tristan wasn’t a quick study. They needed to blend in and they wouldn’t do that if Tristan couldn’t lead a quagga—or if he fell out of his saddle at the first sign of trouble. Jay barely refrained from rubbing a weary hand over his face.

  “Have you ridden other equines?” he asked.

  Tristan glared. “I wouldn’t have been recommended for this mission if I hadn’t.”

  Jay frowned. That was unexpected but promising. “I thought you were here because you knew about the Kada’rah?”

  “Yes,” Tristan agreed. “But that would be useless if I couldn’t handle field work.” He turned a glare on his quagga. “My experience was with less-difficult mounts.”

  “The quagga isn’t difficult,” Jay said. “He’s uncertain. You’re new and this place is strange to him.”

  “Then he needs better training,” Tristan muttered. When he spoke again, he raised his voice and insisted, “I can handle him, and I will not need help again.”

  He sounded indignant and Jay felt a flare of amusement, which he quickly hid. If Tristan saw his smile, it wouldn’t go down well. Tristan was irritated enough without Jay provoking him—but it begged a question. Was Tristan defensive because he hadn’t known how to tame the quagga or because he’d failed to do it front of Jay?

  They were past the point of first impressions, but opinions and appearances still mattered, especially to an IA agent. Tristan had pride, and failing with the quagga had been a blow to it. Tristan probably wanted to prove himself not only as a field agent, but also as someone Jay could respect. He likely cared more than he let on about what Jay thought of him. Jay felt a need to ease Tristan’s worry.

  “Give him some time to get to know you,” Jay said, his voice quiet and more weighted than he’d intended, “and he’ll trust you more.”

  He wasn’t just talking about the quaggas.

  The agent caught his gaze, seemingly understanding, and the moment stretched. Jay didn’t know what Tristan was searching for in his expression, but whether or not he’d found it, he looked away.

  “We don’t have time for that,” he said curtly. “And I don’t need him to like me. I just need him to do his job.”

  Jay felt the sting of Tristan’s words but refused to let it show. Cut and dried, clinical and meaningless, that was Tristan Fox. He was also dead wrong.

  “A job like this needs trust,” Jay answered, his voice sharpening. “He has to know you won’t lead him astray, that he can follow your orders and not get killed for it.”

  “And can he trust me?” Tristan parried, holding Jay’s gaze. “Can I trust him? Sometimes you don’t have the luxury of confidence, Jay.”

  “Sometimes you just have to work harder to gain it,” Jay argued back.

  Tristan didn’t reply immediately. His lips were thinned and his eyebrows furrowed in thought. This had never been about the quaggas and Jay was determined to keep going until he made his point. They had to make this mission work. Their relationship was built on lies and sexual tension, and they needed to change that. Ignoring the problem might be enough to get them to the Kada’rah compound, but would it still get them out alive? They had to work together—and that meant getting to know one another.

  Jay was debating what else to say, how to move them forward, but Tristan beat him to it.

  “My experiences have been with horses,” Tristan said, surprising Jay. “It was never in terrain like this. I rode on immaculate properties or showgrounds with purebred mares.”

  Tristan held Jay’s gaze. His expression was stubborn and brazen. It reminded Jay of Bryce, refusing to be outdone or lose a challenge. If Tristan was going to agree with Jay, then he’d dive in feet first.

  “It was all about impressing and ensnaring my target,” Tristan continued. “The horses knew their role as well as I did, and my missions rarely took me out of a city.” He raised his eyebrows. “I suppose yours rarely took you near civilization.”

  Tristan was prompting him. The agent had opened up and now he expected Jay to do the same. It was an arrogant presumption, yet somehow Jay liked it.

  “The extractions I worked didn’t take place in populated cities,” Jay acknowledged. “They call different people in for those. I’ve often used quaggas on missions, as the UCAFD trains them. They’re good in the desert, and they’re loyal.”

  Tristan nodded and some of the tension in the air dissipated.

  “Where I was, you’d never see a quagga,” Tristan remarked. “I’ll work him out soon enough.”

  Jay started to nod but stopped as he made the connection. He couldn’t keep silent.

  “They had you at the Athena Racecourse.”

  Athena only had the purest and more prized equines. Th
ere were dozens of events for a stallion or mare to participate in—racing, jumping, beauty contests—the list went on. Unfortunately, quaggas had a reputation for being used by the working class. They might be a handsome animal with good breeding, but the society that flocked to Athena wouldn’t want to see something so common.

  Athena was a place for the rich to indulge themselves and try to upstage one another. Everyone knew everyone and a third of the people who attended had a criminal empire. Being able to slip in and out undetected was a testament to Tristan’s skill.

  “That’s impressive,” Jay said. “You’d have to be damn good to blend in there.”

  Tristan’s lips curved into a proud smile. The agent didn’t confirm his presence there, but Jay could tell he was right.

  It was no wonder Tristan had fooled Jay so easily. A small-time thief was a walk in the park compared to an elitist racing society gentleman. Tristan was a damn good spy. He was a deceiving, conniving, perfect example of IA training. So, if Jay hated spies so much, why did he still find Tristan incredibly attractive?

  Jay had always appreciated someone who was competent, but this was something else. Every word out of Tristan’s mouth intrigued Jay further. He wanted to unravel the mystery and learn how Tristan ticked. He wouldn’t mind unwrapping Tristan again too, if he were being honest.

  It was a real problem.

  They would be alone together for days, and Jay needed to keep a level head. They would end up talking and getting to know each other on the mission—that was important—but he couldn’t let anything else happen. He sure as hell couldn’t get attached or infatuated. Strengths and weaknesses… That was what he needed to focus on. Mission statistics.

  “What kind of riding did you do there?” Jay inquired.

  “Mounted archery and jumps were my specialty.”

  The images that were brought to mind weren’t helping Jay’s conviction. Tristan sitting atop his mare with windswept hair and a bow in hand… He’d have been a few years younger and wearing bright-colored riding clothes. Tristan’s control of the mare would be perfect, and his eyes would be alert and intense.

  It was a shame Jay had never seen it.

  Those strong thighs would be in tight-fitting cotton and Tristan’s pale cheeks would be flushed with the thrill of victory. How many awards had he won—or had IA specified he couldn’t overperform? They wouldn’t want their agent making galactic news, his face broadcasted for all to see. No, Tristan would be out of the running early. He’d be able to get into all the important places, but no one would look at him unless they wanted to offer sympathy.

  Jay wouldn’t have offered condolences to the losing rider. He’d have pressed the agent against the nearest hard surface and teased him for losing when he should have won the trophy. Tristan would forget about his mission to argue, just to get his mouth on Jay’s. They’d go somewhere private and remind themselves that Tristan was a hot-blooded man underneath Agent Fox’s professional demeanor.

  It was a really nice fantasy. Jay could have toyed around with it for hours, but it was just that—a fantasy, and an impossible one at that. They weren’t on Athena, and even if they were, Tristan had made it clear that a single night for defusing their sexual tension was all they would share. The agent wouldn’t allow a quickie beneath the sand dunes or some groping against the cavern wall. It was all about the mission and Jay needed to follow suit.

  Zanik Taziv…the reason he was here. The Qui’s life hung in the balance, and Jay wouldn’t let lust distract him from saving Zanik or gaining his clean slate.

  “We shouldn’t need you to do jumps or archery here,” Jay said, “which is a good thing, since quaggas are crap at it.” He kept his eyes averted and changed the subject. “You got the map handy?”

  “You don’t care about the map,” Tristan said, his eyes burning into Jay. “Your mind wandered and now you’re on edge. What were you thinking about?”

  Jay’s mind immediately jumped back to the two of them against a wall, with Tristan in a riding uniform. He refused to be flustered.

  “Does it matter?”

  “Yes,” Tristan answered. “You said we need trust, but we also need to understand each other’s moods and work together under pressure. What unsettled you? If it’s going to reoccur, we need to deal with it now.”

  Tristan’s blunt words made Jay want to respond in kind, to push back and throw the agent off guard. Jay caught and held Tristan’s gaze.

  “I wasn’t unsettled,” he replied. “I was imagining being on Athena, stripping you of your riding clothes and having you against a wall.”

  Tristan swallowed and desire flared to life in his eyes. Jay’s pulse spiked. He wasn’t the only one who found that idea attractive.

  “I see,” Tristan murmured, his voice lowering. He darted his tongue out to wet his lips, capturing Jay’s attention. “We were meant to have dealt with that.”

  Jay held Tristan’s darkened gaze. “And have you dealt with it?”

  Tristan’s eyes dropped to Jay’s mouth then away, where he focused on the rocks. His reactions answered the question.

  “We can’t afford distractions,” he stated firmly.

  Jay was tempted to disagree, to point out how long and lonely desert nights could be when far from home. It would be a few days until they were in enemy territory. There was plenty of time to work off some of their desire.

  But where Jaybird might have a policy of laughing in the face of danger and where Heath Chapman might still crack a joke in the middle of Armageddon, there were limits. Sex in the middle of a mission risked getting them killed.

  “Okay,” Jay said. “We’re attracted to each other, but we don’t act on it.”

  “Precisely.”

  Tristan’s voice was smooth once more and his face had cleared of any remaining desire, like an actor changing roles. Tristan was prim and professional once more. He started leading the quagga without another glance at Jay. Jay could almost hear the walls being erected between them. He could have let it lie, but that wasn’t smart. They both knew the importance of working together. Burying their attraction might be the only option, but that didn’t mean they should stop talking. Soldiers had a brotherhood, and they needed to forge something similar. Jay racked his brain for a new subject to discuss as he caught up to Tristan.

  When he alighted on a memory from a few years before, he chuckled. It was a story he often told but had never got around to sharing with Bryce. It would break the tension and might even earn him one of Tristan’s elusive smiles.

  “You know, I once spent a pleasant night sharing a stable with some quagga and burro foals.”

  Jay patted Brutus’ neck, remembering the curious and affectionate nature of the foals when he’d cuddled up against them. Tristan looked at him, unable to fight the draw of curiosity.

  “Why were you sleeping in a stable?”

  “I started a bar fight after someone challenged me to a game of darts.” Jay smirked. “I won, and they weren’t happy with me.”

  Tristan rolled his eyes but he looked amused. His body was angled toward Jay, his expression filled with interest, so Jay continued. “I avoided most of the thrown furniture and walked away with a good bottle from behind the counter.”

  “Which you drank, causing you to stumble into the nearest building at some ungodly hour,” Tristan guessed dryly.

  Jay did a double-take. Had he told Tristan the story before or was he that predictable? Either way, Tristan was waiting expectantly with a smile tugging at his lips. Who was Jay to disappoint him?

  “It was a nice way to spend the night, until the stable hand found me the next morning and started shouting.”

  Tristan snorted and shook his head. Normally, Jay would continue with his usual flourish and mention how his charm and good looks had given him a true ‘roll in the hay’, but at the last moment, Jay stopped. The real truth about his stories were that most of them were overdramatized to captivate his audience. He would use them to convince so
meone into his bed or win himself another drink at the bar. Tristan might not be a fellow soldier in the classic sense, but there was something to be said about honor. Tall tales were one thing, but if he wanted to trust Tristan and have the spy be honest with him, Jay had to return the favor.

  “I didn’t actually,” Jay answered. Tristan looked confused. “Drain the bottle,” he elaborated. “I hardly touched it.” A rueful smile formed. “It’s plain stupid to drink when you can’t trust the people around you. I slept in the stables because it was cold that night and the man I’d beaten was staying in the same inn.” Jay shrugged. “I traded the stolen bottle for the stablehand’s silence and made my way back to my ship.”

  Tristan narrowed his eyes. “I doubt that’s a version of events you often tell people.”

  “No,” he agreed, “but you’re right. We need to work well together. A good place to begin is with honesty.”

  “That is a good start,” Tristan acknowledged, “but it isn’t something I expected you’d offer willingly.”

  Jay felt offended. “Did you think everything I said before was a lie? Or something I wouldn’t stick to?”

  “I expected what I get from any UCAFD soldiers forced to work with IA agents,” Tristan stated. “You close ranks when you’re together and you give nothing more than the bare minimum when you’re apart. You distrust us on principle and cooperate as a last and desperate resort.”

  Jay winced and looked away. IA didn’t have a good reputation among soldiers and were the butt of many jokes. Jay knew that IA served a purpose and was doing an important job, just like any extraction team, but they often conflicted with each other. IA also reported on a soldier’s conduct if they came across the UCAFD during a mission. It left a bad taste in many mouths. Yet despite their willingness to spy on soldiers, at the end of the day they shared the same goal as the UCAFD—to protect the universe.