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Merc stood there in stunned silence, heart thundering in his ears as her words replayed over and over in his head. You don’t even have a family…
He didn’t have a past either. Or a future.
Marissa possessed more deadly skill than he could have imagined. She’d been able to take his touch and mock the desire they’d both felt. She’d denied him. Used him.
He’d been a fool.
If that really was Marissa, and Mr. J had raised her from infancy, she didn’t have a heart, let alone a soul. And that meant Merc had severely under estimated J again.
Fuck. She’d be headed straight to steal the intel on Operation Midnight and, if J had his way, probably murder Cotter.
Merc darted out of the room, yanking his wrist to his mouth and speaking into the communications piece. “I need eyes on the target.”
He hit the top of the staircase and froze. She was at the bottom of the stairs, Rainier’s arm wrapped possessively around her waist. Fury unlike anything Merc had ever felt overtook him.
No matter how much Merc told himself he’d seen the hurt and pain in her expression, her words left him feeling empty. Hollow. Worse than before when he’d only been a soldier with no memory. A man with no family.
It took everything he had to convince himself his Caroline, or whatever her name was, was here for a different reason. She was being forced to do what she did.
He had to believe it.
He’d known from the way her blue eyes went brittle that she was lying through her teeth when she told him he was just a fling, but he still felt the agony. Still had to stand there and force himself to calm down as she took the arm of her ex-fiancée and led him away, her body plastered to the other man’s.
Merc clenched his hands into fists, knowing he’d be sent to prison for killing a four-star General, even though that’s exactly what he wanted to do when he saw the way the man looked at her. The way he touched her. Dammit.
“Where the hell were you two? Ya’ll completely disappeared from the cameras.” Hunter James jogged down the hallway, his team leader still in the black tactical pants and shirt they normally wore.
“Just talking in a bedroom. Everything’s fine.” Or it would be as soon as he got to the bottom of the situation. He’d seen the way she flinched when he called her Caroline, reinforcing his belief that that was not Caroline Cotter but Marissa downstairs pretending to be her sister.
“Where is Caroline? You’re supposed to be with her,” Hunter said.
Merc forced himself back to the present. “Visiting with the General downstairs.”
“And you just let her go? Which room?”
Merc realized with a start he wasn’t sure, they’d disappeared around the edge of the staircase and there were a number of rooms back there. “Don’t worry, I’ve got her. Get back to the room and keep an eye on everyone.”
Merc took the stairs quickly at first, and then slower near the bottom. The last thing he wanted to do was draw attention to himself any more than was necessary.
The lobby remained crowded with guests dressed in gowns and tuxedos laughing and clinking glasses together, the dull roar of chatter an annoyance. Aaron and Ranger stood sentry on each side of the door, checking guests as they entered. Merc caught Ranger’s attention and gave a head nod. His two teammates had it well under control out here.
Merc moved left, weaving through small groups of people, most of which were around Senator Cotter’s own age. He had a hard time picturing any of these people to be Caroline Cotter’s friends, not that it had been Caroline who’d hugged the General’s arm.
“Excuse me,” he turned sideways and kept moving toward the ballroom, pointedly ignoring a redheaded woman’s open invitation.
How could she have tricked him like this? And how could he not listen to his instincts? It was like when it came to Caroline or Marissa or whoever she was, he’d developed a blind spot.
Merc kept moving, glad he was taller than anyone here, within minutes he’d easily spotted her blond head in the far corner, next to the General. Dammit, he took another step forward, but the crowd was so thick he didn’t make any headway. He cut for the wall at the edge of the room, circling the crowd to get to her. If Cotter and Rainier were in the experiment together, then Marissa could be working him right now.
But as Merc neared, he could see her pale drawn expression and realized she didn’t want to be anywhere close to the man. Rainier held her arm, keeping her at his side, while he talked and visited with the people passing by.
Merc didn’t know for sure who she was or why she was here, but he knew deep inside that no matter what, he’d find a way to wipe that strained expression off her face.
*
“Don’t look so shocked dear, people will wonder what’s wrong.” The General smiled and dipped his head closer to hers, his overpowering cologne burning her nostrils. “Can’t have my future bride looking like she wants to throw up every time I’m around.”
Nightshade tried to snatch her hand free, but he tightened his grip locking her in place. She’d have to cause a scene to break from him, and the last thing she wanted to do tonight was draw more attention to herself. “Didn’t the Senator tell you the wedding is off.”
“He tried to tell me that.” Rainier nodded in greeting to an older lady in a green sparkling dress with bright red hair. She returned his greeting with the brilliant smile, and Nightshade swore the woman bent forward slightly to show off her more than abundant chest.
“Well, in case he didn’t make it clear enough for you, let me. I will not marry you. Ever.”
Rainier managed to get her in the far corner, a crush of people trapped them there. He angled her so that her back was to the wall, his to the crowd, his dark gray brows dipped in a deep V of concern.
Nightshade dug her fingernails into her hands to hold them at her sides. He’d effectively maneuvered her so that she couldn’t escape and blocked his expression from the crowd.
How could her sister have agreed to a wedding with him for even a moment? Sure he wasn’t as old as she first thought, maybe ten years younger than Senator Cotter with salt and pepper hair and a cleft chin tilted up at an arrogant angle. “Caroline, what’s going on? Why did you call it off? Did something happen overseas that your father didn’t tell me?”
“It’s none of your business what happened to me. You and father might have managed to force me into a wedding one time, but not again.” Nightshade looked over the General’s shoulder, frantically scanning for Merc. If he caught back up with her, she wasn’t sure if she could keep up the pretense of hate.
Rainier tightened his grip on her wrists painfully. “What did he do to you? Did he threaten you again?”
The question drew her attention back to Rainier, who for all the world was looking at her with absolute concern. Something wasn’t right here. If Mankel’s conclusion that Rainier and Cotter had forced Caroline into a fake marriage for their convenience to solidify their political connections, the General should be trying to force her back into that union. “Why would he do that?”
General Rainier crowded in closer, leaving less than a foot of personal space between them. Her skin crawled instantly. “Is he watching us right now? I shouldn’t have come to you directly; I should have waited until your father was distracted. I’m sorry.” He dropped her wrist and shoved a hand through his hair, ruffling the perfectly smooth strands. “I’ve been so worried about you and he wouldn’t allow me to come see you any sooner.”
What the hell was going on here? Rainier was acting like a concerned big brother, not a pissed off fiancée. Nightshade anxiously tried to figure him out. Mankel had sworn Rainier and Cotter were in it together, that both men were evil.
So far, Cotter had been nothing but loving and genuinely concerned for her happiness and Rainier was following suit. This whole mission was going straight to hell. She didn’t know up from down anymore. Cotter’s every action had been of affection, just like she’d ex
pect a real father to have and now Rainier talked like he and Caroline had a true relationship.
She needed more intel before she blew everything. Nightshade hedged, “I – I didn’t know you’d tried to come by.”
“Cotter had his guards block me at the gate. But he couldn’t keep me from the celebration, not without screwing up his picture perfect image.”
“Why would he do that?”
“I don’t know, but my guess is he figured out that I was helping you, not him. One of his spies must have overheard us talking before the wedding and reported back to him.” Cotter glanced anxiously over his shoulder.
Spies? “What do you think they heard?”
“I can’t be sure, but he knows I planned to keep you safe from him.” Rainier paused and then lowered his voice, “He’s moved the women to a different location. I don’t know where yet, but I’ve got my team working on it day and night. But we’ve got to get you out of here.”
The loud sounds of the crowd and music faded into a dull roar as the General’s words sank in. “The women?”
“The Black Ops team he captured for his experiment. Don’t you remember? You’re the one who found out what he was doing in the first place and told me.”
Her body went cold with shock and it must have shown on her face because Rainier grabbed her arms and shook her slightly. “Get it together. We’ve been seen together by him for sure now.”
Rainier glanced over his shoulder again. “Shit. I think one of his men is headed toward us. Quick, slap me.”
“What?”
“Slap me,” Rainier said through clenched teeth. “If he thinks you hate me, Cotter might not suspect anything. I’ll have my bodyguard create a distraction later. Be ready to run, okay?”
Nightshade took a deep breath, still not completely sure what was happening but she had to go along with the act to figure it out. She saw Merc plowing through the crowd toward them, a murderous rage on his face. It was now or never.
“Let go of my arms,” she hissed.
Rainier’s gaze dawned with comprehension. He shook her, hard, and Nightshade wrenched her arm free. She pulled back and slapped the General hard, her palm cracking against his right cheek.
Rainier’s faced darkened to a deep shade of red, but he kept himself in control. He yanked her back to him, as if to shake her again and then she heard Merc’s deep voice behind her, overpowering their little corner. “There you are, you left without giving me my goodbye kiss.”
“Excuse me, I don’t believe I caught your name,” Rainier bit out.
“That’s because I didn’t give it.” Merc held out his hand, pushing the General to the side and Nightshade placed hers in his willingly, keeping up the act.
“Remember what I said,” Rainier said.
Nightshade spared him a passing glance and then she breezed past him and the shocked crowd who made a wide swath for Merc as he made his way through the foyer, across the hall to the smaller only half-full tea room. “Want me to kill him for you?”
Merc’s casual question caught her off guard. Even after she’d basically torn him down, he wanted to protect her? “I’ve handled the situation I think.”
“I don’t like the way he touched you.”
“I didn’t either, but like I said I handled it. Have you seen my father?” She had no intention of escaping from one trap only to fall into another. She knew the longer she stayed in here with Merc the more in danger of slipping she would be.
“Caroline, you look absolutely stunning!” Celine rushed forward, beautiful in a pale blue high-waisted gown that swirled around her as she walked. Her short platinum hair was styled in a sleek bob that showed off her innocent pixie-like features to a degree that gave Nightshade a fresh dose of guilt for her planned escape. And to add alcohol to the fire, a fresh wave of servers poured into the room, trays laden with fresh champagne.
“What are you doing here?” She shouldn’t have come, there was no way Nightshade could shield her from the painful memories. A server passed by, nearly hitting Celine. Nightshade yanked her out of the way just in time and glared at the man’s back as he strolled on, completely unaware that he’d come within inches of unraveling her friend.
“This is your official welcome home party, of course I’d come. Plus, Aaron’s lurking around in the shadows somewhere. I went to a lot of trouble getting into this dress and he’s dang well going to see it on me before the night is over.” Celine patted at an invisible stray strand of hair and peered around. “Speaking of, have you seen him?”
Why was she acting so casual? Wasn’t this traumatic? The other night she’d had a meltdown over one glass and now she was being swarmed by them. “Come on, let’s get you to a quiet room, away from all these people.”
“What for?”
Nightshade glanced over her shoulder for Merc to chime in, but he wasn’t paying them any attention. She turned in a huff. “Because, there’s champagne here. I don’t want to upset you.” She waited for the meltdown. And waited.
Celine gave a brilliant smile. “Bless your sweet heart. Listen, the restaurant caught me off guard, that’s all. But I swear, I’m over it. “
“But, but, I don’t understand,” she finished lamely.
“Seeing you acting so strong inspired me. I’ve been holding on to too many bad memories. If you can put them behind you, so can I.”
Nightshade pulled up short, stunned. “Inspired by me?”
“Of course, silly. If it weren’t for you locked up with me in that cell, I would have lost my mind. And now, you’re being strong for both of us again,” Celine said.
The hired hand who’d held Celine and Caroline captive for two weeks while Nightshade and her father prepared the palace for their plans had completely ignored orders and nearly starved the girls to death. Of course, Mankel had killed him for it - and that was a death Nightshade didn’t regret. “Well, okay, then I’m glad you’re here.”
“Merc, whoa.” Celine gave Merc two thumbs up.
He turned his attention from the crowd. “Damn things chafing the hell out of me.”
“Beauty is pain. Now, point me in the direction of Aaron. I haven’t seen him all day.” Celine rubbed her hands together in anticipation and Nightshade laughed at her antics. No wonder she and Caroline had gotten along so well.
“Caroline Cotter!” A shrill voice called across the crowded room. Nightshade turned to see a tall, elegant looking brunette headed her way with a bevy of followers on her tail. “I’m so glad you’re safe. We were so worried about you.”
Nightshade got a gulp of air before she was enveloped in red sequins and smothering cleavage. Lights flashed in her periphery and then the woman stepped back, keeping her arm around Nightshade’s shoulders and smiling at the crowd closing in.
“Georgia, how do you know the victim?” A man dressed in a black suit and slicked back hair holding a small camera asked.
“We went to college together. We were best friends.”
Nightshade tried to politely extract herself from Georgia’s grip, but she held surprisingly strong.
The man turned to her next. “Caroline, what was it like being held hostage in a Third World country?”
The hum of conversation completely died out and the collective group leaned in. Nightshade felt the chains of dread cinch around her throat. “Um, it was pretty boring actually.”
Low murmurs followed and she caught more than one disbelieving glance. Georgia squeezed her tight, “She’s absolutely traumatized of course. I know all about it since my father is a close personal friend of Senator Cotter. She was kidnapped right out of her dressing room at her wedding along with another wedding attendee.”
The murmurs died down again under the weight of Georgia’s words and everyone turned to Nightshade, waiting on her to fill in the rest. She wanted to shrink away, hide from the crowd. This was the absolute worst case scenario, with everyone’s attention riveted on her.
“Come on now, we’re all your friends, y
ou can trust us,” Georgia prompted.
Nightshade cleared her throat. “Well, Georgia is correct. We were taken from the wedding and flown overseas. We were held at one location for a couple of weeks and then moved again, I assume so no one could track us. Thankfully it wasn’t long after that, a brave group of US forces rescued us.”
“Your father has done an amazing job of keeping everything under wraps. Can you share the identity of the second victim?” The man, who had reporter stamped on his face, asked. Celine’s fingers dug into her back.
“I’m sorry, but her identity is classified, as are any further details.”
Furious, Nightshade made to turn away, but Georgia clamped her to her side. “Well if you won’t spill, I will. I have it straight from the Pentagon that they were sexually assaulted and tortured.”
Camera’s flashed all around in a blinding storm of light. Merc shouted, “No cameras allowed. This is over, now.”
But he was no match for the bottom feeders, pressing in for more, which Georgia was more than happy to provide. “The other girl’s name is Celine. She was nearly sold at a slave auction but Caroline was held the longest. She suffered the most.”
Celine’s soft sobs pierced Nightshade’s conscious and she let the rage loose, flinging Georgia away. “You’re a liar. How dare you make up those lies.”
Even more cameras flashed, the murmurs rose and their little circle tightened. Celine crouched behind Merc now, who was calling for back up into his communication system. He reached to pull Nightshade behind him, but she pulled away, turning her vengeance on the spiteful woman who started the frenzy. “We were never friends. My father wouldn’t waste his time talking to yours, let alone sharing sensitive information.”
Georgia gasped and put her hand over her mouth, pointing down at Nightshade’s arm. “See! Look at those scars. He tied you up didn’t he? The man - he had you for over a month. What else are you hiding?” A crafty gleam punctuated each filthy word she spoke about Caroline’s father, a gleam emphasized by the seizure-like flashes of cameras. How dare she insinuate such disgusting things about her father or about what Caroline had been through? Forgetting she was supposed to act with quiet reserve like her sister, Nightshade sprung with hands bared for Georgia’s throat. Merc swooped in and snagged her around the middle, pulling her back further from the crowd.
Revenge River: Men of Mercy, Book 9 Page 23