by Barb Han
“No. Don’t go.” His hands came up in surrender. “I need you. This meeting could go south any second and you’re the only person I trust. We can help each other.”
“You no longer have anything I want.”
That comment scored a direct hit. It had the effect of a physical blow, even though he held his ground firmly.
“I need to know you’re okay.”
“Talk to me about Sam Carter,” she countered.
“When this is over, I’ll tell you everything I fuckin’ know.”
Her gaze shifted from him to the water. All she had to do was pull her mask down and Jace figured she could disappear into its depths in two seconds.
“Time’s up, Jace.”
“Don’t do it. I’ll tell you what you want to know.” He’d wanted to know how deep Murdock was involved before she told Erika everything.
“Then you need to talk. Who is Sam Carter?”
“He was one of three partners working together in a shell corporation funded by Exacto. The third partner was an officer.”
“I was able to figure that much out. Whatever was going on had to be a big fucking deal based on the collateral damage so far. And I knew there were military implications. Why don’t you tell me the rest? Why don’t you trust me?”
“Because I didn’t want to scare you off. I knew you’d disappear and I’d never find you again. I couldn’t let that happen.”
“Why?”
“I wanted to see you again.” He glanced from side to side. If Murdock wanted Jace dead, this would be the perfect time for the hit. Then again, maybe Erika was there to do the job herself.
“What does any of this have to do with my family?” She pushed on.
Lie to her and he’d be putting their relationship in greater danger. He already had to hold back too much information as it was. But he couldn’t bring himself to rock her world when all he wanted to do was protect her from the truth. The fucking curse was that she would most likely hate him anyway.
So far, this meeting was a bust. Jace couldn’t shake the bad feeling he’d had all morning. He figured it was time to abort, regroup, and come up with plan B.
She stood there, the end of her weapon pointed squarely in between his eyes, and she’d disappear forever if he didn’t choose his words carefully. She’d already fallen off his radar for the past forty-eight hours, and he hadn’t slept or eaten. Jace didn’t like not knowing where she was more than he wanted to admit to himself. But telling her would rip her world apart. How the fuck was he supposed to do that?
His attraction was one thing. Erika Nile did things to his heart he’d believed to be long dead. She pumped fresh blood into his body again and brought him to life. Those weren’t empty words when he’d told her she was his angel.
Chapter Twelve
“We’re out in the open here. It doesn’t look like anyone is going to show but us. I think we should go somewhere safe. I have a place a couple of hours away. We can be there before dinner.”
She almost laughed out loud. Safe was the last word she would put in a sentence with the name Jace Mitchell. And going to a remote location would be perfect for him, wouldn’t it? He could isolate her. “I don’t think so.”
“Then you pick the spot. I don’t care.”
Either way, disappearing with Jace Mitchell was a dangerous proposition. Yet, she was going to have to take a risk if she wanted to find out more.
“Tell me what you know about Sam Carter and I’ll think about it.”
“Not a good idea here.” He glanced around, fists clenched. Standing there wearing jeans and a black V-neck T-shirt, he was even more gorgeous than before. She stared him down, looking for any signs of a weapon. There were a number of places he could hide one, and with his deadly reflexes she was still in danger.
“I’m not budging, Jace. Tell me something I don’t already know.”
“Your father was killed because of CorMeds. These guys are relentless and I believe they’re after you.” There was so much concern in his tone she stood rooted, just like in the hallway, waiting to hear what he said next. Maybe needing to hear it, too? It was all too easy to believe him. He had to know she wanted to believe him.
Before Erika could formulate a response, Jace flinched. His gaze focused on something behind her as he yelled, “Get down!”
In one fluid motion, he’d ducked, rolled and come up with a weapon pointed at her. She’d scarcely had time to register his command let alone the bomb he’d just dropped on her when he fired the first round.
A jolt of adrenaline blasted through her, powering her to leap forward. She went a little too high in the jump and the bullet grazed her right shoulder. Pain crawled up her arm but she ignored it. Adrenaline would take care of that for now. Later, she’d need antibiotic ointment and a pain pill.
Instinctively, she regained her bearings and spun around, crouching low in order to make herself a smaller target. The glint of metal across the bay, near Beer Sheva Park, gave away the shooter’s location. She glanced at Jace, saw blood pooling at his feet. “Shit, Jace. You’re hit?”
“It’s not bad.” He looked at the shooter through special binoculars. “He’s not either of my contacts.”
“Next time you shoot, hit him and not me,” she ground out. Her biting tone wasn’t exactly fair. He’d rubbed salt in an open wound by bringing up her father.
“You didn’t listen. I said get down.” His tone was sharp, frustrated.
Too freakin’ bad. Erika took aim and fired, blood spilling down her arm and dripping onto the wood, mingling with Jace’s. Another round whizzed past her a second later, fired by Jace toward the sniper.
If she could trust him, they’d make a great team. Big fucking if.
For now, she had no choice. Besides, what he’d just told her ensured she’d trail him until she put the person who’d killed her father in the ground or in cuffs. She pulled her mask over her face and dove into the deep blue water. Popping up a few seconds later, she shouted. “Like I said, get him next time, okay? In the meantime, keep him busy. “By the time she reached the shore on the other side, everything had gone quiet. The sniper was most likely adjusting his position. He’d fire, move and wait.
If she wasn’t careful, she’d end up in his scope and he’d gain tactical advantage.
One thing was certain, if she could get to the son of a bitch she’d force him to talk.
She listened for any clue as to the sniper’s location. The fact he’d be distracted by bullets pinging past his head would help, if Jace was still shooting. She hadn’t heard anything for the minute she’d been up. Her mind reeled with the new information but she didn’t have time to process.
She didn’t have long to get to the shooter. If a neighbor or boater hadn’t called the cops by now, they would soon. Even with silencers, sound traveled over the water and it was only a matter of time before someone figured out what was going on.
That couldn’t happen before she interviewed this guy. Questions mounted and she planned on getting answers.
She eased out of the water on the west side of the shooter, making sure she was clear before she moved. No way did he see her.
Tall spruce trees covered the area and were easy enough to slip in and out of quietly. She dropped to her stomach, and then monkey crawled through the foliage. That was when she heard it, a sharp crackle then a pop. She scanned her body for the hit, relieved to find blood oozing only from her arm wound. It was superficial. She could easily clean it up later.
The pressing problem she had was that her location was compromised. She needed to get out of there, like now.
Water was a good fifteen yards away. She lay flat, crossed her arms and death-rolled until she plunged into the cold. Water was everywhere, burning her nose, and she was disoriented.
She released a partial breath to see which way the bubbles moved, gaining her bearings.
Her mask had slipped off during the roll taking her mouthpiece with it. Both were gone.
So she shivered out of the small air tank strapped to her back and readjusted her position in the water. She broke surface long enough to get a good breath and then dipped under, swimming like hell to put some distance between herself and the shooter. A bullet pelted the water six feet away. She dove deeper and swam in the opposite direction until her lungs burned. She needed air. If she didn’t get out of the water soon, hypothermia would set in and the shooter wouldn’t have to finish her. Her short-sleeve wetsuit wouldn’t keep her warm for long in such cold water.
If he was waiting, tracking her, she’d be dead as soon as she broke surface. Stay under water and she would drown.
No choice.
Erika propelled her arms beside her and burst through, gasping to get a good breath. She scanned for any signs of the sniper.
He’d retreated. Jace must still be in the game. A wave of relief struck her so unexpectedly, it caught her breath.
She recalculated her position. This time, she’d approach from the east.
The frigid water numbed her arms, staving off the burning sensation from where the bullet had grazed her earlier.
She climbed a boat dock and slipped out of the water and into the nearby trees. Monkey crawling, she scanned the area and located the sniper. His gaze shifted from the water to Jace’s position where she’d left him.
If she kept on undetected, she could come at the guy from behind. She pulled her KA-BAR from the pack and gripped the handle. She hoped like hell Jace wouldn’t accidently shoot her.
Deliberate, light footsteps carried her across the grass toward her mark, her absolute focus on him.
In one motion, she threw her arm around his neck and pulled him against her, squeezing.
He writhed under her grasp, then jabbed his elbow into her ribs, knocking all the air out of her lungs.
Erika gasped but held steady, maintaining pressure on his neck. The fact this guy could lead her to her father’s killer sent her pulse jackhammering. “Who sent you?”
He shook his head. “Fuck you.”
“Fuck me?” she parroted. “Tell me who sent you or I’ll cut your tongue out.”
He compressed his lips in a tight line.
She tightened her grip. Much more pressure and his larynx would snap. She pressed the KA-BAR to his cheek.
Another elbow jab to her ribs and she folded forward, giving him just enough room to drop to the ground.
She kneed him in the back of his head, but he was already twirling around on her. The blade had cut his face and blood ran down his neck, pooling at his collar. She quickly assessed his injury as superficial.
Erika kicked again, connecting with his face.
He grabbed her foot and held.
“You really want to know who sent me?” His English was good, but she picked up on an Albanian accent.
She jerked her foot free and hopped out of his reach, knife blade ready to strike if he made a move. “No. I’m standing here for my health.”
“You should already know. Ask your boyfriend. Or better yet, talk to your father. Oh, never mind, he’s dead.”
“My father?” She heard the snap and the pop, but couldn’t afford to take her eyes off this guy.
He locked onto the blood flowering on his shirt at the same time she did, and then folded onto his knees. Shock lightened his dark features and gray eyes. The shot had come from behind him. Mercer Island. Jace?
Erika needed to get out of there while she could still breathe. She took the assassin’s phone and retreated toward the tree line. Her rental car wouldn’t be far.
She glanced up, and then froze.
Jace stood in front of her.
But that was impossible.
He’d shot the sniper from the other direction. Reality hit hard. No way could Jace have been the shooter, not if he’d been closing in from behind her. “Are you working with someone else, Jace?”
“Come with me.” He stretched out his hand toward her.
All she had to do was take it, and yet she knew what a bad idea contact would be. He needed to see she would step out on faith with him, though, so she had no choice. He was her only link to finding out who’d killed her father.
“Come on.” As soon as she placed her hand in his, he rocketed through the woods toward the road.
“My car is stashed there.” He pointed to a small hybrid.
A moment of hesitation hit as she hopped inside and buckled her seatbelt.
“Who else knows about what you’re working on?” Jace asked, firing up the engine and wasting no time getting the car moving.
“Aside from my boss? No one.” She sat for a minute, thinking.
Navigating the tree-lined streets on his way north, Jace’s gaze intensified on the road. “We have a serious problem.”
“We sure as hell do. My father was killed for whatever you found out. I know about two partners at CorMeds. I have a source digging into the identity of the third. You can save me time by telling me who it is.”
“I had a name, Andrew Smith, but he doesn’t exist.”
“I’ve heard that name before. Didn’t he work for Exacto? The guy back there had an Albanian accent. He’s probably the third partner.”
“No. They have deep ties into Sanctuary, Erika. That’s why I disappeared. Every trail I follow leads to the agency.”
“No one like us would go into partnership with them. And we sure as hell don’t leave tracks.” Agents for Sanctuary were thoroughly vetted. It was unlikely one would turn but not impossible. More signs pointed toward the reality her brain couldn’t fathom—Murdock was somehow involved. Of course, he could be looking for the third party, too.
“Neither do these guys.”
Erika didn’t like the sound of those words. Was there any scenario possible that she could think of in which an officer would do something like that? “What if there isn’t a third person?”
“I thought about that, too.” He paused.
“Why don’t we start with you telling me everything you know about Sam Carter?”
“I’m going to lock your door first.”
“Why?”
“Because I don’t need you doing anything rash.”
She didn’t like the sound of that, either. “Tell me, Jace.”
He hesitated.
“Spit it out, dammit.” Her impatience raged because no good ever came of a conversation like this one. Besides, the numbness was wearing off and her arm had started to hurt. So did her head.
He thumped the steering wheel. “Fuck. I didn’t want to tell you like this.”
“Tell me what?” she parroted.
“You really don’t know, do you?” The shock in his voice didn’t exactly calm her fried nerves.
“You have five seconds, Jace. I’m not kidding. I’ll jump out of this car and disappear if you don’t start talking.”
“First of all, we’re on the same team, so relax.”
“Relax? Are you fuckin’ crazy?”
“Okay, point taken.” He checked the rearview. “I asked about the headaches before.”
“What do they have to do with anything?”
“Stay with me for a minute, okay?” The tenderness in his voice reminded her of the night he’d held her through one of her episodes. Damn that it penetrated the noise going on in her head telling her to get the hell away from him.
“Fine. What do you want to know about the headaches?”
“Are they getting worse?”
“Yes.”
“Do they fuck with your memory?”
“Yes.”
“How badly?”
She blew out a frustrated breath. “You gotta give me something to hang on to here. All I’m getting so far is questions.”
“Fair enough. I’m just guessing that the headaches—or whatever the fuck’s going on inside your head—is why you don’t remember.”
She balled her fists and dug her fingernail into her right palm, wishing she had a cigarette. “Don’t remember what?”
&n
bsp; “You killed Sam Carter.”
Chapter Thirteen
Air whooshed out of Erika’s lungs. No way could she have killed Sam Carter. She would remember. Wouldn’t she?
She turned to face Jace. “Why would I do that?”
“You were sent by Murdock when I didn’t get the job done.”
A memory came back in a lightning strike and with similar force, folding Erika forward. Air was so thin she could scarcely breathe, and the metal car felt like it was closing in around her.
Everything she knew about her world crashed down around her.
The nausea was relentless and banging noises pounded against her skull.
Deep inside her moment of pain, clarity struck. She’d slipped into the service elevator of Hotel Jacques with frightening ease. The sun had just gone down and her target was out to dinner with a woman he’d been seeing often in the days leading up to his death.
“Are you okay?” Jace’s hand was on her back, rubbing her to calm her. God help her, it was working.
“Yeah. I just remembered something.”
“Fuck. I was afraid something like that would happen.”
Erika had kept her face angled to the side so the hallway cameras wouldn’t get a good look at her. The photos would be grainy anyway, but extra precaution was her middle name.
Using the key she’d swiped two days earlier from housekeeping, she entered the suite. For a man on the run, he didn’t skimp on luxury. Plus, carpet softened her step.
Once inside, she no longer needed to be quiet. But she was. Another precaution in case there’d been a miscalculation and someone was there, waiting.
“Pull over,” Erika demanded.
Jace didn’t question her. He must’ve felt her body convulsing.
He pulled to the side of the road, put on the emergency flashers and stopped.
Before she could make it out the door, the first heave came. She pitched forward and a powerful hand grabbed her, stopping her from hitting the ground.
Her stomach revolted as he moved to the passenger side and helped her out of the car.