by Kaylea Cross
He stared at her for a second. “Okay. I’ll go high, you go low.”
“On my mark.” She stood and knelt at the corner of the building while he crossed the alley and stood with his back to the wall, giving them a wider combined angle of attack. She waited several heartbeats, holding his gaze, straining to listen for any sounds of movement coming up the alley. “And…now.”
She whipped around the corner, spotted the shadow beside the Dumpster, and fired two shots at it. Zack fired at the same time from his position.
The shadow dropped.
Eden ran toward it, weapon aimed, ready to fire again. She could hear Zack moving behind her but didn’t look back, leaving him to guard their six because all her attention was on the threat in front of them.
The shadow moved slightly. Eden fired two more shots but nothing came back at them.
Putting on a burst of speed, Eden raced for the shooter. “Face down and let me see your hands,” she snarled.
A muffled groan came from beside the Dumpster.
“Face down, now,” Eden snapped, less than twenty feet away now.
Still nothing.
Eden reached under the Dumpster to grab whatever she could get hold of—a wad of material—and pulled.
Dragging the person out, she let go, shocked when the woman glared up at her. Young. Barely in her twenties if Eden had to guess. What the hell?
The woman’s weapon lay fallen out of her reach. Eden snagged it, stuck it in her waistband as she flipped the woman over onto her back and straddled her. Blood poured out of the shooter’s abdomen, wetting her black cargo pants.
“Who are you, and why are you after us?” Eden demanded, Zack slightly behind her and off to the side, guarding them. She did a quick search for other weapons, froze when she saw the mark on the woman’s left hip in the gap above the waistband. Not a brand like hers. A tat. But it was a stylized symbol, eerily similar to hers.
What the hell?
“Who are you?” Eden snapped, out of patience.
The woman didn’t answer, eyes burning with resentment, lips white with pain.
“Talk,” Eden demanded, grabbing the woman’s jaw.
Dark blue eyes remained locked with hers in defiance. Then those white lips curled into a half-smirk that sent a warning prickle across Eden’s nape, and a telltale crunch sounded as the woman bit down.
“No—” Eden grabbed the woman’s throat, trying to stop her from swallowing, but too late. “Shit,” she snarled, the distinctive bitter almond smell hitting her a split second before the convulsions started. Shit, shit, shit.
She jerked back.
“What the hell,” Zack said, starting forward as if he was going to try to help the woman.
“No,” Eden said sharply, flinging out an arm to stop him. “It’s too late, the potassium cyanide’s already mixed with the hydrochloric acid in her stomach.” The woman vomited, still convulsing. “Hydrogen cyanide can be inhaled and absorbed through the skin. Don’t touch it—”
“Look out!”
She jerked around at his warning shout, weapon up, her heart seizing when saw a man fifty feet away aiming a rifle at them.
She was dimly aware that Zack had dropped to one knee as the men fired simultaneously.
Eden held her breath and fired twice as gunfire roared through the narrow alley. Bullets peppered the Dumpster behind her, missing her by inches.
The man holding the rifle fell to his knees, rifle still in his grip, and toppled sideways.
Eden raced at him, weapon aimed at his chest, and fired again. He jerked as the bullets hit him but didn’t fall. Before she could fire again, a bullet plowed through his forehead.
He dropped like a ragdoll, his hand going lax around the rifle.
“Motherfucker,” she breathed, her heart banging against her ribs. She hadn’t even known he was behind them, would be dead right now if Zack hadn’t alerted her and fired when he had.
She kicked the rifle away and reached down to roll the man to his back. “Not gonna get anything out of him,” she muttered, turning on her haunches to look at Zack.
He stood not fifteen feet from her, pistol hanging loosely at his side. His face was pale, his eyes almost haunted as he stared at the dead man.
“What?” she asked. “You know him?”
“He’s my handler.”
Eden whipped back around to stare at the man in shock, then turned to Zack. “Are you—” She stopped breathing when she saw the blood soaking the front of his shirt. “Zack.”
“I’m okay,” he said, pressing a hand to his side as he moved to lean against the brick wall beside him, as though he needed it to prop him up.
She reached him in three strides, took his weapon and grabbed the front of his shirt, searching for the entry wound. Oh, Jesus, if he’d been gut shot…
He hissed in a breath, his face contorting with pain. “Really, I’m—”
“Shut up,” she ordered, picking up the sound of distant sirens approaching. They needed to get the hell out of here, the cops would be here within minutes. “Just shut up and sit down.” She helped him slide down the wall, kept him propped up with one hand on his shoulder while she reached for the blade at her calf and cut his shirt open.
A wave of relief crashed over her when she saw he hadn’t been hit in the stomach, but his waist. There was no spurting, indicating the bullet probably hadn’t hit an artery or an organ.
She pressed his ruined shirt to the wound, earning a growl and a black look. “Stay still. I’m calling for an extraction.” With one hand she reached back to pull her phone from her hip pocket and dialed Trinity.
“Are you guys okay?” Trinity said upon answering. “We’re tracking you now.”
Eden scanned the alley. No one else had shown up yet, but it was only a matter of time and there could be more shooters. “We need immediate extraction. Do you have our location?”
“Yes. What happened?”
“Zack’s been hit.”
“How bad?”
She was surprised to see her hands were shaking. Her breathing was choppy, her stomach muscles quivering. “Critical, but not life-threatening.” She hoped.
“Hang tight. We’ll be there in under five minutes.”
Eden slipped the phone back into her pocket and pressed both hands to the shirt, blinking hard. Shit, she needed to hold it together. If more shooters or cops came after them—
“Hey,” Zack said gently. His bloody fingers curled around her wrist as he cupped her cheek with his free hand.
Eden blinked fast, trying to stem the rush of tears, but it was no use. Didn’t matter that it shamed and embarrassed her, she was fucking crying while he was the one bleeding all over the place.
“I’m okay, sweetness.”
Sweetness.
The endearment threatened to split her wide open. He’d called her that for the first time the night before she’d walked out on him.
A sob caught in her throat. She squeezed her eyes shut and shook her head, unable to speak. No, he was not okay, he was fucking bleeding from a bullet wound that might have done more damage than she realized, and could have killed him.
“Come here,” he whispered, drawing her head to his neck.
She went willingly, pressing her face to his skin, soaking it with her tears.
ZACK HELD EDEN close, absorbing the feel of her and trying to ignore how much the wound in his side hurt. “Don’t cry.” It shredded him to see her so upset.
“I hate crying,” she choked out.
“I know.” When she released a shuddering breath and kept her face pressed to his neck, he hugged her tighter, soaking up her embrace.
“I’ll punch you for this later,” she muttered.
He cracked a half-grin. “Please don’t. I’m in enough pain already.” It felt like someone had punched a hole through him and then filled it with salt. No, aimed a flamethrower at it. It burned like hell, but he was still alive, and that wasn’t the part that hurt the mo
st anyway.
Rod had shot him. Tried to kill him, and would have killed Eden too if Zack hadn’t brought him down first.
Zack couldn’t even look at the body.
How had Rod found them? Zack had known Rod was interested in finding Eden on the night of the Sevastopol op, but he’d never imagined his handler had been this involved in the hunt. Maybe Rod had known about him and Eden from the start, and used Zack to find her and the other Valkyries.
His stomach rolled. “Christ, this is my fault.”
Eden lifted her head, wiped hastily at her face with the back of one bloodstained hand to frown at him. “What?”
“If Rod found us here, then it must have been because of me.” The bottom of his stomach fell out as something worse occurred to him. “Shit, what if he somehow found where headquarters is?”
“He couldn’t have, or they’d have hit us there instead of here. Now stop talking.” She glared at him. “You’re making yourself bleed more.”
He hid a wince. “I’m gonna be okay, sweetness,” he murmured. He’d been damn lucky, though. The bullet had missed his belly only because he’d been moving when Rod fired. An inch or two higher or to the right, and it would have blown his kidney apart.
“Yes, you will,” she told him, “because I’m going to make sure of it.”
The vow touched him. He leaned his forehead to hers. “Are you gonna nurse me back to health?”
She paused, blinking at him. “Sure.”
“Sure? So enthusiastic.” He grimaced as fire swept through his side, bit back a growl and focused on her through the pain. “And what about us?”
“What about us?” Her attention was on her hands, pressed tight to his entry wound.
He could feel the blood leaking down his back, soaking his pants as it dripped down his leg. “Are you gonna give us another chance?”
She pulled back, scowling at him. “That’s dirty. You’re trying to take advantage of my weakened emotional state.”
Yup. “I’ll play dirty if that’s what it takes to get you back.”
“I said I’d nurse you. Now be quiet and stay still. Trinity will be here in a couple more minutes.” She glanced around, but no one had wandered down the alley yet. Wouldn’t be long until the cops came, though.
He shifted, his legs a bit unsteady. “We should move.”
“No. You’re staying put, I don’t want you to bleed any heavier than you already are. There might be other shooters out there, and amazing as I am, I can only carry you so far if you keel over on me.”
“You’d carry me out?”
She met his gaze, her eyes full of outrage. “You really have to ask me that?”
He smiled. Yeah, she cared. More than she wanted to admit, to him or herself. “I won’t give up on us, Eden.”
“So you’ve said. Now shush and no more talking. We’ll get you to a medical facility—”
“No.”
She glared at him. “Yes.”
It was too much of a risk if anyone else was coming for them. “Only if Heath says I need to.”
She huffed out an irritated breath. “Fine. Now be quiet and focus on slowing your heart rate.”
Her phone rang. The sheer relief on her face made his heart squeeze as she answered, looking around. “Where are you guys?” She lowered the phone an instant before someone came around the corner.
He relaxed when Megan, Ty and Heath appeared, weapons in hand as they scanned the alley. “You guys all right?” he asked.
“Yeah, we took out two shooters before the rest scattered, but we gotta get you outta here and haul ass,” Ty said. He moved past them to the female hitter while Megan approached Rod’s body and Heath hurried toward Zack.
“How you doing, man?” the former PJ asked.
Zack was damn glad to see him. “Hanging in there.”
“He’s talking too much,” Eden said, shooting him a warning look. “Says he won’t go get checked out anywhere unless you tell him he has to.”
“Is that right? What a stubborn bastard,” Heath said, crouching down in front of Zack as he ripped open a bandage he’d brought. “Let’s take a look.”
While Heath started his assessment, Zack looked over at Megan. “You need to check him,” he said to Megan, nodding toward Rod’s body. “See if you can find a phone or something on him.” They needed to tear apart Rod’s contacts, find out who had ordered this and who’d known they’d been here. And how.
“Any idea who he is?” Megan asked as she searched Rod’s body.
“Yeah. My handler.”
Chapter Eighteen
Megan cranked her head around to stare at Zack, then Eden. Her fellow Valkyrie’s grim expression confirmed what Zack had said. What the hell?
Turning away, she crouched beside the body and quickly checked it. It was clean except for one item in his left hip pocket. “Got a key, but nothing else.”
“Key to what?” Eden asked. Heath was still busy with Zack, and Ty was sweeping the other body.
“Motel, looks like.” She shoved it in her pocket, stood and hurried back to the patient. “Can we move him?” she asked Heath, unsure how serious the wound was. Zack had lost a lot of blood.
“Gimme two secs,” he said, winding a tensor bandage around Zack’s middle. When he was done he stretched Zack’s right arm across his shoulders and lifted him to his feet. “Up you go.” He steadied Zack a moment. “Can you walk?”
“Yeah.”
“Let’s move,” Heath said.
Ty came back. “Got nothing. But she’s got a tat on her left hip you might be interested in.” He showed her the picture he’d taken of it on his phone.
She? Megan jerked her gaze to his in shock, then looked at Eden. “You saw?”
“Yes. Now let’s get the hell out of here.”
Ty took point down the alley. Megan walked behind Eden and Heath, who had their arms around Zack to assist him. “Just a half block up,” she said as Ty turned the corner.
The sidewalk was busy with people but only a few glanced at them as they rushed for the street. A white minivan idled at the curb. Chloe sat behind the wheel, her jaw working away on her gum, and slid the side door open for them as they approached. “Good to go?” she asked.
“Yep,” Heath answered, helping Zack inside the middle row beside Eden while Ty hopped in the back and Megan rushed around to take shotgun.
“Okay, where are we headed?” Chloe asked, pulling out onto the road.
“Wherever Trinity is,” Megan said.
“New airport with Jesse and Amber,” Chloe answered, expertly maneuvering them through traffic. “Trin’s diverted the plane there, but it’s a twenty-minute drive from here.”
Megan examined the key she’d taken from Zack’s handler and entered the name on it into her phone. “If Zack can handle it, I need to make a stop on the way.”
“I can handle it,” he replied.
“So where to?” Chloe asked.
“Little motel off the I-95,” Megan said. “I wanna see if our hitter left anything behind that might be of interest.”
“I’ll go with you,” Eden said, and Megan wasn’t about to argue. With so much shit raining down on them, extra backup was more than welcome.
Chloe stopped two blocks east of the motel. Megan hopped out with Ty, handed him and Eden latex gloves before heading for the motel. The key was for a room facing the rear parking lot on the second floor.
Ty stood watch downstairs while she and Eden went up the stairs. Megan slid her gloves on, went straight to the correct door and checked it to make sure it wasn’t rigged in any way before opening it. Eden stepped inside behind her and shut the door.
Housekeeping had been here recently. The bed was neatly made and there were fresh towels folded in the bathroom. “Check the closet,” she said to Eden. “I’ll look in here.”
“There’s a bag in here,” Eden called out. “Nothing in it but dirty clothes.”
All the obvious places in the bathroom wer
e empty too. But Zack’s handler would be more discerning than most if he’d been planning to come back here after today’s hit. If he’d left something behind and intended to collect it later, he would have taken the trouble of hiding it.
Megan pushed the cupboard doors wide under the sink and laid on her back with her penlight in her mouth. Nothing caught her attention but she was undeterred, reaching up to feel along the wood trim beneath the counter top, and behind the sink where it met the wall.
Her fingers bumped something solid and rectangular attached to the wall. Something stuck there with Velcro. Bingo. “Got something.” She pulled the phone free and crawled out of the cupboard to examine it.
Eden came to the doorway. “Burner?”
“Yep. But if he went to the trouble of hiding it, then there’s something on it he doesn’t want anyone to find. Unfortunately for him, my sister can make this sing like a soprano.” She checked a few other places as well, the inside trim along the ceiling in the closet, then the underside of the bedside table and dresser drawers. Behind the bed and TV.
She found another phone stuck to the underside of the shelf of the entertainment unit. “I can’t wait to see what that asshole has on these,” she muttered, putting it in an empty pocket.
They didn’t find anything else. Before leaving, they did a final sweep to check for bugs or cameras, anything that might have recorded or transmitted their presence. The room was clean.
“What about the female hitter’s tat? Did you recognize it?” Megan said to Eden as they moved to the door.
“No, but I don’t like it. Think there’s another version of the Program going on?”
“At this point I wouldn’t rule anything out.”
Ty was waiting for them at the bottom of the stairs. He wrapped an arm around her waist as they walked across the parking lot, heading for the place where Chloe would pick them up, his head moving back and forth as he scanned for any more signs of trouble. “Get anything?” he asked her.
“Oh yeah. Amber can uncover all his dirty little secrets on the flight back.”
Chloe pulled up to the rendezvous spot as they arrived. “Plane’s on the ground and getting refueled.”