by J L Terra
Now she was nothing but a cautionary tale to the other agents. What happened if they started to take cases personally, and when it became more than a job. When an agent was sucked into the case so completely that they suffered a mental breakdown.
No evidence of an attacker had been found. There wasn’t even a suspect.
So clearly, Bryn was crazy.
Amelia said, “I should go take a shower.”
Bryn glanced aside at her. The young woman picked up a towel. Bryn said, “So you’re going to ask me what I’m doing down here in the middle of the night, but you’re not going to volunteer the information for yourself?”
Amelia looked down her nose at Bryn with a smirk. It was a good look for her, snooty but also slightly amused. “Can’t say I’ve ever had to justify my workout schedule to a guest before.”
Bryn wasn’t going to apologize. “You have to admit it’s a little curious you’re down here at this time of night.”
“Maybe I don’t get much sleep.”
Touché. Bryn almost smiled. Almost. What she knew about the bed and breakfast owner filled half a sheet of paper and had taken weeks of searching to amass. It was what had made coming here a safe option.
The length of that research wasn’t because Bryn was out of the game now. It was simply the way this girl lived. Privately. Under the radar. Amelia had an online profile, but most of it was made up, and the IP address where the posts came from was nowhere near this part of the country.
Bryn was determined to be safe. “You know, I think I like you.” She just hadn’t thought her search for peace and quiet would gain her a potential friend.
Amelia said, “I’m still undecided on you.”
Bryn wanted to laugh. “That’s fair.”
She didn’t plan on giving enough away for Amelia to make that decision. She wasn’t going to be here long enough.
Across the room, a cell phone buzzed against the floor. Amelia rolled her eyes. “And there it is. The reason for the middle of the night workout.” She strode across the room and swiped it up, stared at the screen, and shook her head. “What’s wrong? Why won’t you tell me?” She said the words in a mocking, singsong voice and turned to Bryn. “What’s wrong is he’s still texting me after we broke up.”
Ah. Boyfriend problems.
Amelia didn’t have a relationship status on social media. She wasn’t on Facebook, and her Instagram posts were all pictures of nature that may or may not be the surrounding area. Bryn hadn’t walked around outside long enough to ascertain whether or not that was the case.
“You could block him from contacting you.”
“I know,” Amelia said. “I have other options as well. Those are a little more…nuclear. For now, I am just planning on riding it out, waiting for him to get bored and quit contacting me.”
Bryn wanted to know more about that nuclear option. “I’m sure he’ll back off soon. Especially if you don’t reply.”
Bryn would’ve blocked the annoyance from her phone as soon as it began. Then again, she wasn’t exactly a relationship expert. The last time she’d had a man in her life was…uh. Talk about a nuclear solution.
“How about you?” Amelia asked. “Man trouble?”
No comment. “Not in the same way as you.”
At least she knew there wasn’t even a microscopic chance Amelia would find out who she really was. Bryn hadn’t given her real last name. Normally she didn’t use her real first name either, but given how Amelia lived she didn’t figure it would be a problem.
She hadn’t used her real ID in months—she didn’t even have it anymore. Living under an assumed name, even using the same first name, provided a whole lot of anonymity. And it cut down on her host’s ability to Google her to make sure she wasn’t a deranged criminal.
Outside, the rain grew in intensity.
Bryn wandered over and looked out the window. Trees moved in a gentle sway. Water collected on the driveway and the grass, probably much needed in a climate like this. Though it had been cool lately, it had also been dry. Just a little rain watering the earth.
She repeated that last thought in her head.
Just a little rain watering the earth.
That was all.
She whispered it again with no sound. To remind herself there was nothing scary about the rain.
Someone touched her shoulder. Bryn spun around and sent a palm strike into the young woman’s chest.
Amelia blocked the strike before it made contact. “What the heck?”
Bryn took a breath and tried to calm herself. “I’m sorry. You surprised me.”
“I was talking to you, but I don’t think you heard me,” Amelia said. “Asking if you wanted me to make some coffee.”
Bryn hoped she wouldn’t rescind her offer. A hot cup of coffee would probably help to calm her nerves.
Amelia motioned toward the stairs, a sad look in her blue eyes. “Come upstairs with me and I’ll put a pot on.”
Bryn followed her up. The young woman probably wanted to keep Bryn where she could see her. Not the first time another person had considered that she might suddenly do something crazy. She didn’t think this would be the last.
Bryn counted each step as she ascended, doing her best to ignore the sound of the rain. Upstairs was louder on the windows and against the French doors that led out to the patio. Bryn wandered over and drew all the curtains, even the long ones that hung in front of the doors.
When she turned around, Amelia stood at the threshold to the living room. “I usually leave those open so I get the natural light in the morning when I wake up. But if it makes you feel better, it’s fine to have them closed.”
“Thank you.” It didn’t come out sarcastic, though there was an air of that in what Bryn had said.
Amelia chuckled and turned to the kitchen. “Come on. You probably need coffee as much as I do right now.”
Bryn followed her in and sat on a stool at the counter.
“How about some breakfast as well?” Amelia filled the carafe with water at the sink, then wandered back to the pot to pour it into the reservoir. “I don’t know about you, but once I’m up, I’m up. I might need a nap later, but I can worry about that when the time comes.”
“I could help if you’d like.” So long as it didn’t involve chopping with a big knife. Maybe she could crack eggs or something.
“No worries,” Amelia said. “I’ve got it.”
All part of the service, apparently. Bryn had paid full price for the bed and breakfast experience. She’d figured that was mostly just an expression, but now she knew better.
Maybe Amelia was just happy to have someone to fuss over. So long as the person didn’t turn into a homicidal maniac just because of a little rain. Bryn was pretty sure she’d be able to contain herself if there wasn’t any thunder or lightning.
Amelia set one sweet potato, two tomatoes, and a Ziploc bag containing half an onion on the counter. She retrieved a cutting board and a knife and settled belly up to the breakfast bar on the opposite side from where Bryn sat.
Amelia started chopping the onion. “So how did you find my bed and breakfast?”
“I got on a rabbit trail online,” Bryn said, relieved she could concentrate on benign conversation. “Looking at one of those sites where you compare prices of hotels. I clicked through a few places and ended up on a different site where there was a review for your B&B.”
Amelia’s eyebrows lifted. “It’s pretty hard to find me and my little place through those fancy booking sites. I don’t do much advertising.”
“It surprises me you’re able to stay afloat.”
“I like having time to myself, and in the summer it does get pretty busy around here.” Amelia shrugged one shoulder. “I do all right.”
“It’s impressive.” She wasn’t going to question the woman’s business tactics. If Amelia was able to make it work, more power to her.
“Anyway,” Amelia said. “I like to leave it to Providence to decid
e who finds us here.”
Thunder rumbled outside.
Bryn froze. It felt like every molecule in her body dipped ten degrees with the temperature outside. She shivered against the chill and stood. Pushed the stool aside, and turned to the window. She’d closed all the curtains. Blocked out the world. And yet she could still hear it.
Thunder rumbled again. The deep roar that signaled a roll of inclement weather approaching.
“You really don’t like storms, do you?”
“They aren’t my favorite,” Bryn said.
“That’s the understatement of the century.”
She turned back to Amelia, not wanting to admit how right the girl was. Maybe this was nothing. Maybe it really was just a storm rolling through the valley. A little snow on the mountains and some extra bloom in the flowers.
What was the harm?
The first crack of lightning lit the world behind the curtains, shining light between the gaps along the edges. Thunder rumbled the earth beneath the house.
Bryn took a step back.
He was coming for her.
Chapter 4
New York
Malachi scooped Mei up into his arms. She cried out and clutched her stomach. He called out, “Go get her. Or those guys. Whoever!”
Daire strode over to them instead and got in Mei’s face. “Okay?”
“She shot you.”
He pulled up the hem of his shirt. “Vest.”
Mei gritted her teeth. “Get her.”
Penelope had a weapon, but he’d have to catch up to her before worrying about whether or not she would use it on an innocent bystander. He needed to get her contained and do so with minimal damage.
“Remy, take Mei and Malachi in the van.”
Shadrach said. “Dauntless, guard. I’ll cover Daire.”
Daire chased after Penelope. The animal would stay with Remy, Mei, and Malachi. Shadrach would never take the dog with him in order to protect himself if it meant leaving Remy exposed.
Penelope disappeared down the sidewalk. Daire skirted behind a glistening Mercedes and crossed to the other side. Too many pedestrians. He’d never find her in the middle of all these people and vehicles.
Up ahead, he spotted a flash of blond hair and raced after her. A car pulled out of a side street. Daire’s hip hit the front bumper and he winced. The driver swore out the window and honked his horn. Daire slammed his palm on the hood and kept running. Penelope Silver had deceived them all, and she’d stabbed Mei. There was no way he would ever stop until she was found.
Until he knew what he possessed was, indeed, hidden.
And continued to be kept safe from the world.
Daire pumped his arms and legs. He sprinted as fast as he could toward the blond head of hair.
A second later she turned toward the street as if to cross. A van pulled out of traffic and stopped in front of her.
Penelope took a step back and glanced around. Two men got out. Men who looked sickeningly familiar.
They grabbed her and dragged her toward their vehicle. Her face paled. Not so sure of herself now.
She saw Daire. “Help me!”
One of the men laughed. Penelope looked as though she wasn’t sure whether to be scared or not. None of this seemed right to Daire as he raced toward her.
The van engine revved. Penelope yelled, “Someone help me!” out the window of the van as it roared away.
Daire pulled back on his pace and stopped at the curb where she’d been standing only a second ago. Think this through. She’d stepped toward the van. Had she been preparing to cross in the middle of a busy street? She’d reacted to their intention when it became clear they were abducting her, but all that yelling had clearly been for show. As though Mei’s attacker was still the victim here.
It made no sense.
Another van screeched to a stop beside the curb. Shadrach said, “Need a ride?”
Daire said, “No, but I could use a lift.”
The former sniper tipped his head back and laughed. Daire climbed in the passenger seat. He figured they were going to be clashing on phrasing between British and American English for a good long while yet. At least, he hoped so.
He pulled out his phone and called Remy while Shadrach drove. When she picked up, he put it on speaker. “How’s Mei?”
“Malachi took her inside the hospital. I’m in the van with Dauntless and my laptop.”
Daire grasped the handle at the top of the window to keep his body steady as they careened around another corner. “I don’t suppose you—”
“Can get you a location on Penelope?”
“You read my mind.” He explained about the van and the pseudoabduction.
“That makes no sense,” Remy said. “She wasn’t actually abducted before, not the least because we stopped it before it could really happen, but now she really has been abducted?”
“I know.” Daire sighed.
“Okay, I’m in every traffic camera in the area,” Remy said. “We only have minutes until the cops are notified something is up. There’s no time for finesse. You got a license plate?”
“I didn’t see one.”
Remy said, “I can scroll back and look where it happened.”
He gave her the street address. “But we might not have time to wait for you to find it. We could lose the van before then and we’ll never catch Penelope Silver.”
“Oh, I’ll find her.” Remy’s voice rang with determination.
Shadrach squeezed between a semi and a Corvette. A motorcycle roared by them as traffic slowed. “Are they stuck in the same traffic jam we are?”
Shadrach headed in the same direction he saw the van go, but who knew if they had since turned onto a side street?
“Our survey says…” Remy clicked keys and then said, “Bingo.”
Daire fisted his hands on his legs. “Now isn’t the time for games.”
This mission was turning into a colossal mess. Penelope hadn’t been kidnapped, this time or before. She wanted to be the victim. She knew who those men were, and now she was going to get away. Maybe she even had the book with her already.
What if it had already been taken?
That was the thing he was most afraid of. And he couldn’t even tell the team any of it. At least not until he had time to explain the whole story.
Shadrach shot him a scathing look. The man was ever protective of Remy. Daire figured if he liked her as much as he seemed to, then he should just quit taking things so slowly and ask the girl to marry him already. They’d been dating, if you could call it that, for months now. Shadrach was moving cautiously so that Remy had the time she needed to recover from a vicious attack.
Daire couldn’t see the benefit of waiting any longer. Time was short for both of them.
Remy said, “I’m going to assume that comment you made about games was because you’re just worried about Mei, and move on.”
Daire didn’t apologize. It was on the tip of his tongue. But there were more important things happening right now. “Do you have the van?”
“Two more streets, then take a left.” She paused. “And by the way, Mei just showed up on the hospital database under a name I gave her.”
Shadrach turned the corner and Daire caught sight of the van. “There.”
“I see it.”
“Shoot.” The distracted exclamation came through the phone’s speakers.
“What is it?” Shadrach asked her.
“The transportation department found me in their system. A whole lot faster than I anticipated. Seriously.” She paused, then muttered a bunch of unintelligible words. “Oh, you might think you’re as good as me…” Her voice trailed off.
He said, “Do what you can,” because he wasn’t all bad. He was just stressed out. Which likely made all the team members wish Ben was back. Once Daire explained it all they would understand. Or not.
They’d all just about come to terms with Ben’s experience with a mythical creature. How would they re
act when he told them his story?
One of the van’s passengers leaned out the window with a rifle and started to fire. Bullets hit the hood of the already shot-up van, spraying across the metal to the windshield. The tempered glass shattered even more. Shadrach let out a hiss of breath.
Daire lifted a foot and kicked the panel free from the frame. The whole windshield slid to the side and onto the road. They careened past it and on down the street.
Leaving them completely exposed to the gunmen.
“Get down!” Shadrach pulled a handgun from the cup holder and started firing.
Daire wasn’t going to hide while his teammate took all the risk. He lifted up enough he could see the van and aimed with his own handgun. He spent bullets at the vehicle until the clip emptied.
On a busy New York street.
This was going to require a lot of explaining, and paperwork.
Ben made them account for every single round fired. Not because he was anal, but because a shooter required to answer to the boss for every spent bullet would fire more cautiously. And because recklessness costs lives.
“Rifle on the backseat.”
Daire didn’t have time to raise a brow. He twisted amid more shots headed for them. Not the rifle case Shadrach took everywhere with him. He pulled the gun onto his lap—a standard AK-47. Probably untraceable, but not exactly inconspicuous on a busy street.
Daire angled it into the front and laid the barrel on the dash. He let loose, enjoying the feel of it. Aimed down. Checked for innocent bystanders—none he could see. And went for the tires. Hit his mark.
Rubber flung out from under the van as the tire shredded.
Police sirens behind them cut through everything else.
The gunman swayed out the window but grabbed the frame at the last second. Daire put a bullet in him, plus a few extra for good measure. The guy tumbled onto the road. Slowed down, at least for the moment.
The van turned right toward a side street, tight enough two of their wheels lifted off the street. Daire waited for it to fall over. Penelope screamed, audible from this distance even over all the noise.
“We can’t keep this up for long before we’ll be surrounded by cops.”