Dead Reckoning

by C. J. Snyder

  Tiny hairs at the nape of her neck prickled. She glanced at the hidden security camera. Ghost checking up on her, no doubt, but the reason didn’t feel right. Was someone else watching? If so, she couldn’t put Mule away. Nothing looked out of place, but she knew how little sight counted.

  She went with her gut instead. She locked up Mule, carting what she wanted back inside. Her guest was still busy perusing files on the computer, barely glanced up as she strode to the bedroom. Mykael dumped the backpack and satchel on the bed, then closed the door and returned to study the security screens. Ghost was behind her in an instant, standing too close. She forced herself not to move away, even when he edged closer, when his fingers closed around her arm.

  “Something wrong?” Warmth spread through her, from that spot just above her elbow where his hand rode gently on her skin, reminded her instantly of his mind-warping kiss. She couldn’t focus on the terrain, on the video feed from her security cameras. Something was very, very wrong indeed.

  “Not a thing,” she lied, the need to escape overwhelming in its urgency. “I’m going to move Mule.” She fled, all too aware he followed, standing in the doorway to watch as she vaulted into the truck. Luckily, she’d remembered to bring the remote. The engine roared to life and the front door closed. Get over it. He’s a man, for heaven’s sake. Just like any other man. Flirt, seduce, follow through. Works every time.

  Except that when he touched her, her insides turned to jelly. No, not jelly, lava. Hot molten lava, warming all the icy caverns deep inside. He’s your Target. Flirt, seduce, follow through. Park Mule, go back inside and charm that fancy phone off his belt. Action was required, not reaction. Action kept pain away. Reaction invited it in, and there were no more pieces of her heart large enough to break.

  Chapter Three

  Mykael jumped when a log inside the stove popped. Ghost sat in the rocker, while she alternately fed the fire and perched on her only other chair. He’d tried to insist she take the rocker, but she didn’t want him to see her there. The rocker was personal, where she sat when she dreamed. The wood chair was where she worked and she was most definitely working now.

  “When did you meet Blade? How did you find out about the mole? What made you contact us?” She held up a hand to stop him. “Whoa. Rules.

  He gave one short nod. Not another part of his body moved.

  “There are some questions I’ll answer. Others I will not.”

  One more nod.

  “What I will not do is supply you with all the answers you want for nothing.” Was that hint of a smile in his eyes? She couldn’t be sure and his lips hadn’t moved.

  “Goes without saying,” he agreed, but she couldn’t tell if he mocked her orders or merely agreed.

  His hand went to his arm, touched the bandage she’d reapplied. “Bothering you?” She wouldn’t wonder if it did. She’d stitched it closed an hour ago, each contact with his skin building to a crescendo that warned her to run, as far and fast as she could. “Just tight. Thanks for the stitching.”

  Her turn to nod.

  “Where’d you learn that?”

  “My grandmother.”

  “A doctor?”

  “Village nurse.”

  Ghost shifted in the rocker. Mykael retreated to the bedroom and retrieved a bottle of wine and two paper cups from her backpack. “This might help the sting.” She sent the question in her gaze and he nodded, accepted the cup of wine, watched until she was seated on the floor in front of the fire.

  “How did you find out about Black Fire?”

  Mykael smiled. “My turf. I get to go first.”

  He returned her smile. “Sounds fair.”

  “Did you ever catch the real mole?”

  His pain-filled eyes were suddenly darker. He smiled, a quick, nothing-funny-about-it grimace. “Yeah. We did.” “So you admit you made a mistake.”

  “We made a few.”

  Mykael stuffed back an impatient sigh. This wasn’t getting her anywhere. But she had to go slow; didn’t want to reveal too much. Her gaze slipped to the black nylon clipped to his belt, then jumped back to his face. Had he noticed?

  “If you’re the commander, what happened to Viper?”

  His eyes narrowed quickly, then were clear again. “He’s dead.”

  “When did he die?” She couldn’t help the flash of frustration that speared inside. Blade had told her Viper could help unravel the mess of his betrayal.

  Ghost leaned forward, forearms on his knees. “Don’t I get a turn?”

  She forced her heart rate back towards normal, steeled herself for the coming inquisition. “Okay.”

  “Why did you kiss me?”

  The question knocked the resolve out of her mental preparations and startled a grin out of her. “To save you.” He grinned back, but was obviously surprised himself. “To save me?”

  “I knew who you were. You were bleeding. You didn’t want my help.”

  “We’ll come back to you how you knew me later,” he promised. “Why would you think a member of Black Fire would need saving?” She chuckled, but even though he’d only moved two inches closer, she had to retreat. Seduction was good, but she was supposed to be seducing him, not the other way around. She stood and moved to the window. Dusk came quickly to the east side of her mountain. Overhead, the stars began to pop out of the darkening sky. Behind her, the security screens silently switched to night vision, casting a green glow over the fire lit room. “Does it bother you to have a woman save your ass, Ghost?”

  She knew her mistake immediately when he moved up behind her. Trapped. “I love a woman who can save my ass, angel. I especially loved the way you did it.” The fire of the memorable kiss ignited a slow burn in her belly. His arms braced the wall on either side of the little window, making her prison physical. “How’d you know who I was, Decoy?”

  She ignored his question and stopped procrastinating. Time to get the interrogation back on track. She turned and met his gaze. “You took out the wrong man, you know.” His eyes held her absolutely still while he fingered the hair behind her ear. “So you said. How do you know that?”

  He smelled like cinnamon and wine and hearty, healthy male. She couldn’t stop her gaze from dropping to his lips, but just as quickly forced it back to his eyes. Too close! her brain screamed When his hand moved down her arm, she let him turn her, guiding her back to the fire. She kept her tone light. “We have some mutual friends.” To get away from the touch shooting heat through her bloodstream, she sank into the rocker. He sat and faced her on the floor at her feet, still too close, but no longer touching her. “Tell me what happened with Viper.”

  The question evoked a flash of something. . .anger? Then it was gone. “He cost my unit seven good men.” His voice was flat and she wondered if Viper’s actions had caused the pain she saw in his eyes.

  “Seven?” Was Ice dead after all?

  “Seven. Three last year. Four before that.”

  She wanted to pounce, wanted all her questions answered now. Instead, she kept her voice calm. “Why?”

  “Who knows? Power, greed, envy.” He looked distant, as he stared at the fire. She didn’t believe he was lying. There was something in his eyes that pulled at her heart , something deep. Whatever the events with Viper, they’d hurt Ghost. She slipped to her knees on the floor next to him. The communicator at his belt was just inches from her fingers.

  “What makes you think we got it wrong, Decoy?” The soft question startled her. She shoved the empathy away and summoned the strength she’d need to carry out her plans. Too bad following through with the seduction wasn’t one of them. Decoy had her own rules: sex and her life’s goals didn’t mingle. Not ever. If she did her job correctly, it simply wasn’t necessary to ever get that close to anyone.

  “I know you got it wrong.” She hoped the hatred inside didn’t show. She fought to keep the fingers of her hand, splayed on her knee, from clenching. “Who was the mole?” Ghost sighed. “How about you tell me about y
our grandmother instead. The village nurse.” He used his forefinger to trace each of her fingers and her body responded helplessly. Her eyes sought out the fire, strangely reluctant to voice more of the lies she’d prepared. Deception was one thing, but this. . . this went beyond deception. Something in this man cried out for truth, nearly demanded accuracy. Could she be honest?

  Not if you want to fulfill your mission .

  “She raised us.”

  “Us?”

  “My sister, brother and I.” Why was it so hard to lie to him? Her sister Melina had raised her. Until she’d fallen in love with the handsome son of a cartel leader and gotten herself blown to bits over the Atlantic. After that, Mykael raised her brother herself. And set out to avenge Melina. Her life consisted of keeping those two goals as far apart from each other as she possibly could.

  She cleared her throat, turned her back and closed her eyes against the influence of his voice and his eyes. Stick as close to the facts as closely as possible. “My brother died eleven years ago. He got involved in a drug ring. They sucked him in, used him up, spit him out and murdered him.”

  He knelt behind her, hands warm on her shoulders. Mykael fought not to flinch. Too close– why did he have to get so close?

  “Must have been hard on you, losing your brother. What about your folks?” “Dad ran out when mom was pregnant with my sister.” No lie there, except the man who’d left was Sean’s father, not hers. She’d never met hers. “Mom died when I was eighteen.” Seven years off there, and it was her sister, the one who’d fought tooth and nail to raise her and Sean, who’d died tangling with the bad guys. Sean, her secret, her soul, her very life, was whole and healthy at school in Florida. She’d probably never see him again, but the price of keeping him safe was one she’d gladly pay.

  Ghost’s hands were warm on her shoulders, caressing, soothing...disturbing. Stirred embers that should be long dead. Black Fire had killed Peter. Guilt that she would respond to one of them nearly choked her. Long fingers slid up the column of her throat, skated along her chin. She couldn’t stop the shudder his skin provoked in her, could only pray he couldn’t feel her response. Her head eased back toward his shoulder behind her before she realized what she was doing and snapped it forward.

  Concentrate. They killed Peter. “Like I said, after my brother died, I needed a reason to go on. Revenge sounded like a good one.” “Did you ever get them?”

  “Who?”

  “The ones responsible for your brother’s death?”

  She gave a firm nod, glad he was behind her, glad he couldn’t see her face, her eyes. She couldn’t hide the hate when she thought of the man who’d enticed Melina, promised her the world, destroyed it instead. Stephano.

  He’d been her first kill. She’d cut his neck, nearly took his head off, but only after she told him what she was about to do and why. In the end it was over too soon, and not painful enough. Not nearly painful enough.

  “How did your brother die?” Mykael took a sip of wine to focus her thoughts, took care to keep her pronouns straight as she answered. “They blew up his plane. Or set off the bomb he and his friends carried for them. There weren’t enough pieces left to tell which. He went down off the east coast near Norfolk.”

  “I’m sorry.” His whisper scurried along the bare skin of her shoulder, seconds before his lips followed. Mykael wanted suddenly to do nothing more than melt. Her skin tingled, little shivers raced where he touched, where he nuzzled. She bit back a soft moan. This wasn’t right. She wasn’t in control. He was supposed to melt—not her.

  “What about you?”

  “My father’s a professor turned senator. Mom was an army nurse before the kids came. There are four of us. She’s great. A great mom, great Washington wife, great cook.” Mykael wondered if she was about to be the main course tonight when his supple fingers headed south and found the hem of her tank top. Slowly, ever so slowly, his strong, sure hand slid with tantalizing ease over the bare skin of her back.

  Just who was seducing whom?

  “So you have brothers? Sisters?” She had to keep the conversation going. If she didn’t, she’d lie back on the floor and let him devour her.

  “Two sisters, older and younger. One younger brother.” He nuzzled the hair away from her nape, inhaling. “You smell so good, Decoy.” “Greg, I think...” Only she couldn’t think. Not when she wanted nothing more than his mouth on hers. She heard her own sigh and her words floated back through her mind. Greg? When had Ghost become Greg? There was danger there, just as there was danger in his fingers, in the muscled, lean body warm against her back. Mykael sat up straight.

  “Exactly what are you doing here?” She swiveled on her rear to face him. “Seducing you.” The firelight reflected a gaze that was amused, but not the least discouraged. “Going to let me?”

  Instead of threatening, the amusement in his warm gaze put her at ease. She smiled and scooted back toward the fire.

  So they were both bent on seduction. That definitely put an interesting twist on the evening. Mykael leaned forward to retrieve her cup of wine. She dipped her finger into the cool, red liquid, then slid it into her mouth before she traced his lips. “I might.” She leaned back, well aware the fire at her back wasn’t nearly as dangerous as the one on the floor in front of her. “Only you’ve gotta come clean first.”

  Greg watched the subtle shift of light in her fabulous eyes. Her little wine-tasting event had nearly done him in and now he felt like cursing. Everything had been according to plan...his plan, and now, somehow, she’d impossibly changed the game. He couldn’t help his body’s instinctive reaction to her kissable pouty lips and wide, liquid eyes, but he wanted her back playing his game. On his turf. She’d swapped the field, yanked familiar, solid ground out from under him, replaced it with a deadly snare. The biggest problem was, he had no intention of forfeiting.

  He advanced, effectively trapped her between the fire and himself. “What do you want to know, Decoy?” Her grin nearly undid him.

  “All your dark secrets.”

  He kept the teasing smile on his lips, but it required an effort. “Don’t have any.” “Uh, uh, uh. No lying, Ghost, darling.”

  He shrugged. “Perfectly normal life. Boring life. Grew up in Carolina. North,” he amended when her eyebrows questioned. He traced one, felt a shiver she couldn’t hide. “Dad was a professor at UNC. He became a senator eight years ago. My folks sold the house I grew up in and moved to Maryland, got a big country house and a nanny for my little sister. That woman’s a saint. After high school I went to UNC and then MIT.”

  “Where did you meet your college friend?”

  “Max? Chapel Hill.” It was also where he’d met Robyn. She didn’t need to know about Robyn. Or Hunter. “My turn.” She smiled.

  “What’s your name?”

  The smile disappeared, but she gave her answer with a nod. “M-y-k-a-e-l.” “Mysterious,” he murmured, traced her lips, just a breath away now. “Your turn.” “What’s your last name?”

  Her eyes were wide and innocent. She didn’t fool him for an instant. But where were the alarms? To give the information she requested was to break an unwritten law. Then again, so did his plans for the rest of the evening. He wanted to laugh and suddenly he did. Decoy indeed. The woman was far more than her name indicated. More dangerous. More deadly. And more enticing than he could fight. She asked for his ultimate trust. His gut demanded he give it. Trying to read the secrets in her eyes, he leaned forward until her lips were only a breath away from his own.

  “So, we’re finished with the lies?”

  “Lies?” she wondered with a smile. “Tell me,” she whispered, felt his breath against her mouth. “You know you want to.”

  “Lassiter,” he whispered. And claimed her mouth like he’d been dying to do since that first taste of her in Vegas. Mykael knew only that she was drowning. Drowning in the most sinfully delicious, exquisitely detailed, passionately decadent sensations she’d ever experienced. How co
uld one kiss fill her to overflowing and leave her dying for more? His fingertips outlined her earlobe and she moaned, low and deep in her throat.

  She lay back and pulled him with her, needed the solid floor to counteract the crazy dips and spins the room made around her. He braced on an elbow over her, used his free hand to explore her belly, her rib cage and slowly, much too slowly, higher.

  When she could stand it not a second longer, when she thought she’d burst if he didn’t, he skimmed her nipple with just the tip of one finger. Greg groaned and kissed her deeper, stifling her own moan, nearly masking the sound of a quiet beep and whir from across the room.

  Mykael flipped him to his back and sprang to her feet, eyes on the green monitors. Greg followed. “What?” He sounded righteously irritable, but she didn’t have time to commiserate.

  “Company. Watch the road. Holler when they get here.” She touched the monitor on the far right bottom row and then disappeared into her bedroom. She was back in less than twenty seconds, carting her knapsack and his duffel bag. Greg hadn’t moved, gaze fixed on monitors number six and seven, where two, no, three cars jerked along in digital still progression.

  They had less than five minutes. Plenty of time. She started the pre-programmed computer functions that would erase and rewrite the hard drive with meaningless numbers, then dashed into the kitchen, repacked their meager food supplies.

  What had they touched?

  What hadn’t they touched was more like it. She frowned, and handed Ghost a cloth and a bucket of water. “Douse the fire and wipe down over there.”

  The computer clicked off. Mykael grabbed the flashdrive, wiped down the desk and spared one more glance at the monitors.