Mission: Her Defense: Team 52 #4

by Hackett, Anna

  “Fuck,” Lachlan bit out.

  Luke pressed his hands to his hips. “It’s at the Glacé. Manhattan’s hottest new hotel. We need to get to New York.” He looked at Blair. “You have a dress?”

  Her nose wrinkled. “Yes, MacKade, I do own a dress or two.”

  “And heels? Pretty sure combat boots won’t blend in.”

  She rolled her eyes at him.

  “Aren’t you guys cute.” Nat grinned at them.

  “First, I need an empty room so I can do this laser treatment on Blair’s face,” Ty said. “If combat boots won’t blend in, that spectacular bruising won’t either.”

  Luke nodded. “Conference room three is free. And I need to make some calls. See if I can convince the exhibit owners and the Glacé to shut this gala down.”

  Lachlan crossed his arms over his chest and scowled at Luke and Blair. The man’s golden gaze seared into Luke.

  Blair might not have her brother anymore, but she had a de facto one standing right here.

  Well, Lachlan was going to have to get used to the fact that Blair was Luke’s. He reached out and stroked Blair’s cheek. “Go and let Ty fix you up.”

  Faint color hit her cheeks. “Okay.” She looked over and saw her teammates watching them blatantly. She sniffed. “Come on, Ty, time to work your magic.”

  Nat and Ty followed her toward the conference rooms.

  Unsurprisingly, Lachlan stayed. The big man crossed his arms over his chest.

  “You have something to say, Hunter,” Luke said. “Say it.”

  “Blair is tough as hell. If she needs to take you down, she will. She dragged my injured ass out of hell, and lost her eye in the process. She still got us to the evac point.”

  Luke hated the thought of her injured and in danger. “Sounds like Blair.”

  “If you hurt her, I’ll kick your ass.”

  “I have no intention of hurting her.”

  The other man blew out a breath, glancing toward the conference rooms. “She…if you ever tell her I said this, I’ll never admit it. She’s tough on the outside, but not on the inside. She’s suffered a lot of loss in her life.”

  “She told me about Will.”

  Surprise flared in Lachlan’s gold eyes. “She told you?”

  “Yeah.”

  “She doesn’t talk about him. And you know her parents checked out on her?”

  “I read between the lines.”

  Lachlan nodded. “You got a prize in your hands, MacKade. Don’t fuck it up.”

  “I’m falling in love with her, so I don’t plan to.”

  “Shit.” Lachlan ran a hand through his hair. “Well, good luck. Don’t let her push you away, and whatever you do, don’t treat her like a princess.”

  Luke laughed. “Pretty sure I’ve waded through all of that already.”

  Lachlan nodded. “Okay, enough of this heart to heart shit.”

  “I need to make those calls.” As Lachlan headed for the conference room, Luke pulled out his phone.

  When Blair and the others returned, Luke was barking into the phone and trying to keep a hold on his anger.

  “You’re making a big mistake. Dammit, fine.” He stabbed a finger to end the call.

  “Sounds like that didn’t go well,” Blair said.

  He studied her face and couldn’t see any changes to her bruising. “The exhibit organizers are refusing to cancel the gala. I couldn’t very well tell them about cursed swords infused with nanotechnology. They feel their security provisions are fine to deal with the threat of Cold Night.”

  “Shit,” Lachlan muttered.

  “Clements has already been in touch with NYPD. They’ve been apprised and are onboard. And security at the Glacé Hotel has agreed to work with us.” Luke looked at his watch. “We need to work out how the hell we can get to New York before the gala starts.”

  “Luckily for us, we have a superfast jet-copter,” Blair said.

  “I’ll get it prepped.” Lachlan pulled out his phone.

  Blair looked lost in thought, a frown creasing her brow. Luke leaned in. “We’ll stop them.”

  She nodded.

  His fingers brushed hers. “And I look forward to seeing you in a dress.”

  Chapter Fifteen

  Blair sat in the hotel suite while Natalie fixed her makeup. The other woman dabbed a few swipes of something on Blair’s face, working a little longer on the faded bruises on Blair’s face and neck.

  Ty’s treatment had worked magic and on the flight to New York, her bruising had faded a lot.

  Nat straightened. “There. You’ll bring him to his knees.”

  Blair turned to the mirror. She looked amazing. Her hair was done up in a tight roll at the back of her head, showing off her neck. Natalie had worked wonders with the makeup, accentuating Blair’s eyes and cheekbones.

  She glanced at her friend. “And you look sensational too.”

  The archeologist wore a bright-red dress that skimmed over her body, accentuating her figure. Her dark hair was loose in long waves, and her eyes took smoky to a new level. Add in the fire-engine-red lips and the woman was a knockout.

  “I think you’ll bring a certain member of our team to his knees as well,” Blair added with a small smirk. “Or, at least leave him panting.”

  Nat fluffed her hair. “I’ve no idea what you’re talking about.”

  Blair snorted. “Right.”

  She turned back to the mirror, looking at her dress. It was metallic silver, and every time she moved, it shimmered in the lights. It had an asymmetric neckline, with one arm—and her bandaged shoulder—covered in a long sleeve and the other shoulder bare. It was long—she had weapons to hide, after all—but the flowing skirt had a slit up one leg, all the way to her thigh, so her movements wouldn’t be hampered. It was secretly practical, but overtly sexy.

  Nat grinned. “Time to go.”

  Luke and the rest of the team would be prowling the exhibit room. Luke had spent most of their flight to New York blasting the exhibit organizers, coordinating with the Glacé Hotel security, and liaising with the NYPD. The plan was for Team 52 to mingle with the crowd and stay on alert for any trouble.

  Maybe Cold Night wouldn’t attack?

  Blair gave a mental snort. Yeah, right.

  She followed Nat out of the suite and to the elevators. Callie met them, looking gorgeous in a V-necked aquamarine dress that was long, with a split like Blair’s.

  Callie grinned. “Looking amazing, ladies.”

  “And ready to kick some ass,” Blair added.

  Callie winked. “I have a SIG strapped to one thigh and a knife on the other.”

  “Sexy and badass,” Nat said.

  Together, the three women stepped into the elevator and zoomed to the top of the Glacé Hotel. When she stepped out, Blair stared through the wall of glass windows.

  Wow. Manhattan lay before them, draped in the night darkness, lights winking merrily. It wasn’t the in-your-face slap of Las Vegas, but it was still impressive.

  As they moved toward the main doors, Blair was thankful her heels weren’t too high. She shook her head. Part of her felt silly going on a mission dressed to the nines, but she knew her black body armor and combat boots wouldn’t blend in.

  They stepped through the door.

  “Nice,” Nat murmured.

  The huge room looked amazing. Decorated in black and red, the organizers had spared no expense. The samurai artifacts were dotted around the room, while guests milled, sipping drinks. Overhead, gorgeous lanterns shaped like cherry blossoms glowed softly.

  “Our guys clean up nicely,” Callie murmured.

  Blair spotted Lachlan, Seth, and Axel. They were all in tuxedos and looked mind-blowingly delicious. Lachlan looked like he was tolerating the tux, Seth wore it like a second skin, and Axel was smiling, his thick, messy hair making it look like he’d just rolled out of bed.

  Several groups of women were watching the men over the rims of their drinks.

 
Nat strode across the room first. Blair saw the moment the former Delta Force soldier noticed her. Axel stiffened, his mouth dropping open. Hmm. It was going to be interesting to watch when these two finally acknowledged their simmering attraction. Blair grinned to herself.

  Smith stomped into view. He was also in a tux, but his bowtie was conspicuously missing, leaving his white shirt open at the top. Typical Smith. He didn’t look happy. He preferred jeans and flannel shirts to suits.

  Blair scanned the room, taking in the amazing samurai artifacts once more. But then she zeroed in on the cameras and guards, and other security measures. Then her gaze fell on a tall man in a tux talking with security at the end of the room.

  Her chest hitched. Damn, Luke MacKade in a tux was a panty-melting sight.

  His thick, brown hair had been tamed, and his tuxedo clung to his long, muscular form. He turned, his dark gaze landing on her. He did a faint double-take, his eyes widening as his gaze drifted down her body. He devoured her with his eyes.

  Then the security man started talking to him again, dragging his attention away. But Luke glanced back at her, and Blair shot him a wink before she turned and strode to the bar. She needed something to wet her very dry mouth.

  “What can I get you?” the female bartender asked.

  “Just a soda with a twist of lime, please.”

  Blair turned, resting her elbows against the bar. She took in the camera placements again. She knew that the security team, with great reluctance, had double-checked the guest list looking for any flags. Anyone with possible links to Cold Night. They’d also checked bags and patted people down on entry. But she knew that wouldn’t stop the cult.

  “Hello, there.”

  She turned and eyed the man smartly dressed in a tailored suit who’d sidled up beside her. He looked lean and fit, and had a cute smile. He wore the suit well. She pegged him for a stockbroker.

  “Hey,” she said.

  “You’re interested in samurai artifacts?”

  “Looks that way, since I’m here.” She tapped her fingers on the bar. “But to be honest, lately my interest in all things samurai has been waning.”

  The man’s smile dimmed a little. “I hope the exhibit changes your mind. I travel to Japan on business a lot, and find Japanese history fascinating.”

  Blair made a noncommittal sound. The bartender pushed her drink across the bar, and Blair murmured a thank you. She took a sip.

  “So,” Cute Stockbroker said. “Maybe I could show you around—”

  Suddenly, a big body pressed in behind hers. The brush of hard muscles had heat racing over her skin. Luke’s hand gripped her hip. “Blair, you’re needed.”

  Stockbroker looked up at Luke and his face fell. Blair battled back a smile. “Bye.”

  Luke didn’t give the man a chance to respond. He took her hand and tugged her away.

  “Why didn’t you just club me over the head and drag me off?” she said.

  “Don’t tempt me.”

  “You need to get this possessive thing under control, Detective.”

  He was wearing his usual cologne and smelled so good. She breathed in a few lungfuls. Mmm. Eyeing him up close, she saw he’d shaved, but a shadow was already forming on his strong jaw. Too damn handsome. She was never going to tell him just how much he made her chest tighten and her pulse race. He pulled her toward the edge of the crowd, doing a circle of the room.

  “So, you needed me?” she said.

  “No. I just wanted lover boy to know you were taken.”

  She shook her head. Partly because she should be pissed by the possessive behavior, but mostly because she kind of liked it. Luke paused, and they watched more guests in their glittery finest filing in.

  Blair had a horrible niggle in her gut. The one that told her that something bad was coming.

  “They’ll get in,” she murmured. “With the sword.”

  “Yeah,” Luke muttered. “But they won’t be expecting us.”

  She looked around, taking in each of her team members. They blended, mostly. Okay, Smith didn’t blend that well, but it wasn’t an issue. She knew they would all do their jobs. Every one of them was ready and alert, waiting for the trouble to hit so they could take it down.

  That’s what Team 52 did.

  Then she watched, as a man walked boldly through the center of the room.

  “MacKade. Man wearing a black suit in the center of the crowd. Black hair, about five foot nine.”

  Luke turned, his brows lowering. “I see him.”

  The man was swallowed by the crowd. “Lost him.”

  Blair touched her ear. “Possible bogey.” She repeated the man’s description.

  “Acknowledged.” Lachlan’s voice was a quiet murmur.

  Luke slipped his arm through hers and pulled toward the windows. A large glass door was open, leading out onto a large terrace. A few courageous souls were outside braving the cold.

  “Can you see him?” she asked.

  “No. Let’s check the terrace.” He eyed her dress. “You going to be warm enough?”

  “A little cold has never stopped me.”

  Luke led her out. Several braziers had been set up, flames flickering. The city’s buildings rose up around them and she heard the din of traffic and honking horns echo from the street below.

  “No sign of him,” Lachlan said in his earpiece. “Keep looking.”

  Blair breathed in the cool night air. She knew snow was forecast for later and she shivered, goosebumps rising on her bare arm.

  Luke paused, his gaze sweeping the terrace. “He isn’t out here.”

  Blair looked back inside. Through the glass, she saw a stunning sword resting on a display rack. It was a Masamune. She was pretty certain the revered Japanese sword maker would be horrified at this situation with Cold Night and the Muramasa swords.

  She saw movement near the sword and spotted him.

  The man with the black hair was moving toward the doorway leading back inside. His gaze locked on hers just as he swung the glass door closed and locked them outside.

  “Shit.” Blair pushed forward. “There! He just locked us out.”

  Luke cursed, rushing forward.

  The man swiveled and, through the glass, they watched as he tossed off his suit coat. Lying along his spine was a sword sheath.

  Fuck.

  Several people spotted the man and screams broke out inside.

  * * *

  Luke ground his teeth together and tried to open the door. Locked tight.

  “Lachlan,” Blair said into her earpiece.

  “We see him,” Lachlan responded. “We’re moving in.”

  Through the glass, Luke watched the man reach over his shoulder and pull out a katana.

  Dammit. The man whipped the sword forward and started swinging, the lights in the exhibit room glinting off the metal blade. The screams grew in intensity and people started running. The man slashed at a woman in a blue dress, cutting her down. Blood splattered on the floor.

  The man spun, facing the windows for a second.

  Blair banged on the door and Luke pressed his palm to the glass. The man’s face looked demonic. It was twisted, his eyes bloodshot.

  “He’s got the Muramasa sword,” she said.

  Beyond the man, Luke saw the Team 52 members shoving their way through the crowd. But before Lachlan and the others reached the man, several suited guests leaped on them, attacking them with hits and kicks.

  Luke cursed. “There are more Cold Night fighters among the guests.” He watched a man launch into some sort of martial arts against Axel.

  “Dammit.” Blair hammered her fist on the glass. “They’re trying to stop Lachlan and the others from reaching the swordsman.” She reached through the slit in her dress and pulled out her SIG. “Step back.”

  Luke obeyed, waving at the shocked people on the terrace to move back. He watched as she fired on the door lock. But the damn thing was sturdy. He tested the door, but the bolt was still l
ocked in place.

  Gunfire broke out inside. The security guards had joined the fight.

  “We’ve got to get in.” Blair reared back and kicked the door. But it still didn’t budge.

  “The glass is tempered,” Luke said.

  Luke turned around, his gaze falling on a potted plant. He gripped it and lifted it up. “Watch out.”

  Blair stepped back. He smashed the heavy pot against one of the plate-glass windows.

  Glass shattered, raining down like a waterfall of tiny diamonds. Before he’d even set the pot down, Blair rushed past him, glass crunching under her heels.

  “The doors are locked,” someone inside shouted. “We can’t get out of the room.”

  “Get down,” Luke yelled at the guests standing, watching with shell-shocked expressions.

  “Under the tables.” Blair waved her hands at the ground.

  Together, Luke and Blair worked their way through the crowd, shouting at people to get back. They passed the restrooms and he saw several people huddled in the doorways.

  He threw out an arm. “Get as many of you as you can get into the bathrooms. Barricade the doors behind you.”

  A man nodded and started herding people in.

  Blair turned, her gaze moving toward the swordsman. “We need—”

  A man flew out of the crowd and slammed into her. She staggered, her gun flying out of her hand. When the attacker stepped back, he pulled out a sword.

  Shit. Luke could see it was a katana, but hopefully just a regular one. The man swung and Blair dodged, her silver dress flaring out around her legs. She turned and kicked the attacker.

  Suddenly, two more men shot out of the crowd at Luke. He lifted his Glock and fired. One man shouted and fell. The other one leaped on him and his Glock was knocked out of his hand. He swung his fist, punching the man in the face. The attacker retaliated and landed a chop to Luke’s side. He grunted.

  A woman in black trousers and a sparkly, black top came out of nowhere, holding two knives. Luke dodged, but another fighter leaped in and landed a punch to his kidneys.

  Shit. Grunting, Luke staggered out of range. He spun and found himself side-by-side with Blair.

  “Let’s show these fuckers what true power is all about,” she said.