The Archangel Agenda (Evangeline Heart Book 1)

by A. K. Alexander

  A rappelling rope dropped through, followed immediately by a man.

  Who the hell was this guy? No one was supposed to be here.

  We’d done intel on top of intel.

  Malcolm never failed, not like this.

  I leaned closer for a better vantage point. It didn’t take any special skills to assess that this guy was a thief—and a professional.

  Dressed in black with a sleek belt full of tools, he slid down the rope like a spider and landed on silent feet. A black beanie covered most of his hair, leaving his face free, but it was too dark to make out his features. I was lucky—had I not seen him come down, he’d have melted in the shadows and I’d have been ambushed. He crouched and pulled out a small flat device no bigger than an index card. I squinted but couldn’t figure out what it was or what it did. I shouldn’t be here wavering, I should be racing through that room, grabbing that ring, and getting out of here.

  But he blocked both my exits and I couldn’t go out the windows without breaking a leg.

  I may be an assassin, but I have a creed. I killed only bad people, and only ones I’d been hired to kill. I didn’t want this thief to force my hand. If things went bad, I’d rather run than kill an innocent, even if it meant I had to try again.

  He lifted the device and panned it across the entire hallway. I froze. I really hoped that thing wasn’t a heat sensor or I was totally exposed. I couldn’t move or he’d see me.

  My earpiece screeched and I jerked, digging in my ear to get it out. Malcolm must be trying to get the system figured out.

  I looked up in time to see the thief pick me up on his device. His head jerked up and in a split second, he took off running.

  Straight for me.

  Instinct kicked in and I charged. He didn’t expect that and it gave me a tiny advantage. I hit him low in the belly and flipped him. We grappled. I punched. He kicked. Beneath my fists, his toned body deflected everything I gave him. I doubled the force of my punches, trying to get one to connect and slow him down.

  He tried to put me in a chokehold. I slipped it and jammed a knee in his back, sending him flying. He scrambled across the floor and grabbed my ankle as I tried to kick him, making me stumble. I regained my balance and punched him in the face. He responded with a blow to the stomach and took off toward the room. I launched myself at him and took him down, wrapping my arm around his neck.

  We traded the upper hand and my lungs burned as the fight took its toll. I needed to incapacitate him and get out of here. Interior security was going to do a sweep in less than a—

  A device on his wrist chirped. “Dammit!” He punched me again and wrestled away. I gasped for air and gathered myself to attack him again. From a few feet away, he clicked off the alarm and shot a quick glance at the room, probably trying to figure out if he still had time to get in there.

  I needed to take him out, now.

  He grinned, bright white teeth shining in the soft glow of the hallway lights. His scruffy beard and blond curls sticking out from beneath his beanie conflicted with the sleek movements he’d displayed this far. Sparkling blue eyes belied the surprise of having me here, as if he were enjoying the challenge.

  “You kind of screwed up my plan, sweetheart.”

  I straightened and glared at him.

  “I was here first.”

  He bowed and extended an arm toward the room. “Be my guest.” He glanced at his chirping watch. “You have ten seconds to—”

  “Hey!”

  We spun. A security guard stood at the far end of the hallway, unholstering a weapon. He was too far away to take out. I lunged at the thief, punched and tripped him, then took off toward his rappelling rope. I leapt for it and scrambled up. I paused at the top, too curious not to take a look. He was furious. I’d gotten just enough jump on him and he knew it.

  He took off in the other direction, then took a hard left. The guard didn’t know which one of us to chase and I was beyond pissed. I gathered up that bastard’s equipment and hauled it to the gate and slipped into the darkness, running to meet Malcolm.

  Chapter Thirteen

  All Malcolm and I had been able to figure out about our intruder during the drive back was that he was an expert. His climbing gear was specialized, but not military grade. After a few calls, I found the only place in town that carried it and went to find out what I could about the asshole who had completely jacked my mission. Making me fail for the first time ever.

  He was officially my least favorite person. The climbing store was tucked away at the end of a strip mall and the interior smelled of leather and men. This was one seriously authentic place. A sickly chime announced my entry and I wound my way through the crowded racks of gear and ropes to the small cashier station at the back where a kid in his mid-twenties was price-tagging a small mountain of carabiners.

  “Hey, welcome. Got any questions?”

  “Hi, I’m really hoping you can help me. I’m not a climber but my boyfriend’s birthday is coming up and I want to get him something really special.” I glanced over my shoulder as if this was a serious secret and leaned closer to the clerk. “I snuck his climbing rig out this morning while he was in the shower and I was hoping you’d be able to suggest a gift based off what he wears.”

  The clerk smiled shyly and took the rigging from me. “Yeah, we’ll have him in our system, probably, and I’ll be able to see what he’s purchased and what’s coming up on replacement.” I leaned on the counter, eagerly scanning the monitor as he scrolled down the customer information page. While he did that, I memorized the name and address at the top and tried not to grin.

  Hello, Clay Wellers.

  The rope was a small price to pay for the information I’d gleaned about Clay. Not only did I know his name, but I had his address, cell number, and date of birth—thank you, New York State Climbing Certification Course. He’d had to enter in all his details to be certified and now those nuggets would let me figure out who the hell had been there that night and what he was after.

  That whole scenario was such a strange coincidence. No way was he going after the same piece. There were plenty of expensive baubles in that room. Any one of them would have been worth fencing. The more I found out about this guy, the sooner I could get him out of my hair and get back into Felt’s place.

  I flirted with the clerk while he rang up my purchase, wanting to keep him enamored with me in case I needed more info. Plastic bag in hand, I stuffed it in my bag and jogged down the subways steps toward my stop and home. The climbing store had been surprisingly close to my place, which bothered me. I didn’t like coincidences under the best circumstances, and while Manhattan housed a ton of bodies, it didn’t sit well with me that a thief from my neighborhood had hit my very first heist.

  Taking the gear with me to the office, I opened my laptop and pulled up every database I had. Granted, I was no Malcolm when it came to hacking into other sites, but I’d done enough work for The Big Three that they’d given me high-level access to their databases so I could find what I needed on the targets they’d hired me to eliminate. Clay might not be military, but he was professional enough that I had a feeling I’d find a few things about him on at least one of the sites. No one gets that good without pissing off a few people—the kind of people I work for.

  Forty minutes into the search I finally caved. There wasn’t much information other than what I’d found at the climbing store. But now I did have a picture and stats to go with the stealthy shadow he’d been last night. Dark blond hair framed an oval face with high cheekbones and strong chin, with piercing blue eyes and a crook in his nose that told me it had probably been broken at least once. Take the crooked-nose thing out and he probably could have earned a few bucks modeling in The Big Apple.

  Had I not just buried my soul mate, I’d have found him incredibly sexy.

  His dossier wasn’t as sexy as his face. He’d done a short stint in the military, got out after he did his time, and hadn’t been good about paying his taxe
s for the last decade. The IRS wasn’t his biggest fan, and he’d been busted on misdemeanors, but nothing major and he’d talked his way into fines and an overnight stay in the drunk tank. Otherwise, the guy was clean.

  And that added to my growing unease. This guy’s record was too contrived, like he’d been manufactured with just the right amount of bad-boy. I didn’t want to involve Malcolm again, but I needed him to find out who put this persona together and why.

  I leaned back and swiveled my chair, putting my feet up on the desk. The harness was a pile of nylon beside my monitor, mocking me. I was missing something, I just didn’t know what.

  My phone rang and I pulled it off the charger. “Hey. How are you feeling?”

  “Like they ran me over while I was in there.”

  I laughed. “How’d the surgery go?”

  “Fine, I guess. They’re keeping me overnight, bunch of controlling jerks.”

  “Are they letting you out tomorrow? Do you want me to come see you?”

  “No. Christ, I don’t need any pampering. I’m fine.” He fumbled the phone like he was trying to sit up or readjust his hospital bed. “Did you get what you needed?”

  I hated having to talk to him about this over a live line, but I wasn’t sure I could wait. I was already down too many days since my first Metatron meeting with nothing to show for it. I leaned forward and rubbed the nylon between my fingers. “I could use more help.”

  He was silent for so long that I thought he’d fallen into a drug-induced sleep. “Malcolm?”

  “Your guy paid me a visit.”

  “The climber, the bastard-ass thief?”

  “No.” He lowered his voice. “The other guy. The first one.”

  Bad enough we were trying to have a conversation without giving anything away, but he wasn’t exactly clear-minded. “The first one?”

  “Yes. He said I can’t help you, that in order for it to work, this has to be your journey.”

  “Metatron told you to back off? He forbade you?”

  “Mmm. He’s quite persuasive.”

  “I cannot believe this.” I had one—one source for help—and Metatron was squashing it. “That’s bullshit.”

  “That’s what I told him. I don’t like it either, Lina. But your guy insisted and my gut says it’ll all work out the way it’s supposed to.”

  I dropped my forehead against my hand and sighed. “Fine. I can do it myself.”

  “You can. Trust your gut. I believe in you.” He paused and lowered his voice. “But before he came to see me, I’d already found out stuff on your thief.”

  “Yeah, I did too, but not much to go on.”

  He chuckled. “One of these days, you’ll figure out that not everything is inside that electronic box of yours.”

  I grimaced, but he knew me well enough, so I let the jab slide. I had gone easy on locating personal references for Clay other than the climbing store clerk. “What’d you get?”

  “One of my contacts used him on a job a few years back. He’s a runner, like you. Same time, same place. Every day around the lake in Central Park.”

  I sat up straight and held the phone tighter to my ear. “Really? When?”

  “’Bout now.”

  “Yeah, thanks. Keep me posted on your recovery. Let me know when you’re home.”

  “Be safe, girl. Be safe.”

  We hung up and I kicked the harness off the desk. Clay wasn’t going to get the best of me. I needed to know why he’d been there and put all these coincidences to bed.

  Security around Felt’s place would be stronger now that we’d made—and botched—an attempt. They’d fix the loopholes, which meant I’d need a new way on to the estate, a new way into the house, and a new way into the room. With my luck, they’d also have all the alarms turned onto the pieces now, which meant I also needed a new way to get the relic.

  I changed into running shoes and gear and took off, thinking of everything and nothing for the first few miles. I let my brain work the puzzle without interfering. Clay was a wildcard. I could have the best plan around the security, but if he walked in during the middle of the attempt again, he’d blow my plan up.

  And what was he after that night? And why? Who did he work for?

  My sneakers ate up the pavement and I was no closer to answers. Chances were slim that I’d run into Clay. Normally, I would have staked out the park for a couple days to find the inconsistencies in his schedule, but I didn’t have time for that. I had to hope that luck would bless me today and I’d find him along the path.

  There weren’t many people out today, just a few moms and the occasional old guys playing chess. The oppressive heat hadn’t hit yet today and people would probably start wandering out after lunch. I rounded the backside of the lake and picked up speed on the dappled stretch of road stretching beneath tall trees.

  Based on the single interaction with Clay, I didn’t think he was part of Azazel’s crew. A run-in with any member of that group wouldn’t have left me alive. I couldn’t write him off as coincidence, though. Not until I had a chance to interrogate him.

  Dr. Felt’s collection was interesting, but only to the right group of people—a small group of people. Which made it even less of a coincidence that we’d both showed up on the same night. But then we’d both left empty-handed, which meant we’d run into each other again, unless he’d already made his second attempt.

  Fifty feet ahead, my path intersected another, and the runner on it. Out of habit, I scanned him from head to toe. He wasn’t breathing hard, so this was either the start of his run or he was in great shape. His gray sweatshirt zipped up the front and hugged the fit body beneath, but the sun broke through the trees, blinding me and shading his face.

  Our paths crossed and he turned to run beside me.

  I stiffened, recognizing Clay too late.

  “Hey baby, fancy meeting you here.” He bumped my shoulder with his and kept pace with me, our feet touching down together. I didn’t like his instant acceptance of my tracking effort.

  Had he been tailing me and I’d been too lost in thought and still overwrought about Griffin to be on the top of my game? Had he let me intercept him, just like he had last night?

  This was no accident. He’d picked the perfect spot to let me intercept him, between the lake and the concrete barrier on the other side of the path, forcing us to stay side by side until one of us made a move. I’d already beaten him once, and now he’d lost his chance at an ambush.

  I relaxed, content that he wasn’t a threat at the moment, and curious about why he’d sought me out, and so publicly.

  I glanced up at him. At six feet, he was nearly a foot taller than me, but that didn’t mean I couldn’t kick his ass again. He was grinning and watching me like we’d been running partners our whole lives. “Good idea getting some exercise. Maybe next time you won’t be the slow one.”

  He chuckled. “About next time… Are you going to mess up my plan again?”

  “Who says it was your plan? Maybe you screwed up mine.”

  “Listen, I’m a gentleman and willing to make you an offer because that’s the kind of guy I am. Why don’t you tell me what you’re going in after and I’ll grab it for you.”

  “Ha! How about if I grab yours?”

  He tossed me a sideways glance that was full of mischief and chuckled again. “Maybe after, baby.”

  That lit me up. I stuck out my leg and jammed my shoulder into his ribcage. He stumbled and I ran faster, intent on getting away. “You’re just a thief,” I yelled over my shoulder.

  No way was I telling him what piece I’d been after. This had been my interrogation, but now I was pissed that I’d rushed the surveillance of him and given up my advantage. He wouldn’t tell me anything now. I glanced behind me.

  He sped up, closing the distance. “What does that make you?”

  “You don’t know anything about me.” We hit the grassy section of the park and I searched for a single person I could attract for help. Not
that I couldn’t best him, but I wanted the distraction so I could get away, and not get into a wrestling match in public. Assassins were invisible by nature. We didn’t start shit in the middle of parks.

  He hit me from behind and I rolled away, throwing elbows. One caught him in the kidney and he cursed. I sprinted left around a twisting mass of playground equipment. My place wasn’t far, but I sure didn’t want to lead him there, though I had a bad feeling he already knew where it was. He rounded the far side and I dodged him. Trying to outrun him was stupid. I needed to stand my ground and fight him like I’d done last night. He was taller and faster than I was, but everyone underestimated my size.

  He grabbed my arm and I wrenched his thumb backward until his grip loosened. This time I didn’t try to run. I turned into him and used his momentum to angle his arm up and behind him. He slipped my grip and reached for my throat. I ducked and kicked at his knee. I didn’t want to take him out, only slow him down. He was quick, however, and dodged the worst part of the blow. Like the other night, we traded the upper hand back and forth across the wide, flat stretch of lawn.

  He stumbled and I flipped him, but he was back on his feet instantly. We were both winded and breathing hard. I stood half a dozen feet away, glaring at him and ready for his next attack. “What do you want?”

  “You’re right.” He held up his hands. “I’m just a thief. I’m a thief with very expensive tastes and very discriminating buyers. Tell me what you’re after and I’ll let you have it. I want one thing in Felt’s place. You can have the rest.”

  “What if we’re after the same thing? And I find all of this such a huge coincidence.”

  He took a step closer and I stiffened, but didn’t move away.

  “We’re done here.”

  I wanted to know what he was after, but not at the cost of having to reveal my own treasure. Plus, he’d avoided my accusation of “right time, right place—sort of.”

  “Why were you at Felt’s when I was, and why are you out here now, acting like you knew that I was coming for you?”