by Dawn Ryder
“Kitten is on the balcony, knows our target’s face.”
The man nodded and pulled a hat off his head. It actually turned out to be two hats, a smaller one inside the larger. He dropped the smaller one onto her head and handed the second one to Saxon.
“Bram is getting transportation. I’ll deal with the cat.”
He was gone a moment later, threading his way through the crowd of dancing and drinking people.
Ginger bit back the question she wanted to ask. Honestly, she wasn’t in a position to quibble over Saxon’s methods. Kitten was looking for her. The sting of betrayal spread through her as she was guided beneath where the stripper was standing.
You don’t know her …
Karen would have a lecture and a half for her once she heard the story of Ginger’s adventures in the French Quarter.
There was a ding, and Saxon pulled his phone out. “We’ve got a ride out of here, just a little further.”
Ginger enjoyed the flare of hope that went through her.
“Let’s just hope you don’t get dropped by a sniper before we get to the car.”
He said it under his breath like an afterthought, which gave the words more punch when they landed. She felt like the breath was knocked clean out of her. The reality of her circumstances was too horrible to make it through her brain. Things like hoping snipers didn’t get her just didn’t happen in real life.
Not hers anyway.
The way Saxon was gripping her arm confirmed he thought it was a real possibility. Her heart was back to hammering, her lips parting as she took little, panting breaths. Sweat was trickling down her sides, making the dress itchy.
“Don’t lose it now,” Saxon admonished her.
“I’m rather motivated not to,” she answered back. For a second, she thought she caught a twitch of his lips that might have been a smile. They’d passed the boutique and were getting close to the hotel. Each step felt like it took a really long time, while the sidewalk looked as if it were stretching. She was straining, listening for the sound of a bullet, which was ridiculous but none the less true. She was caught between the world she’d been living in just an hour before and the one she suddenly found herself trying to survive now.
It was surreal and terrifying all at the same time, a psychedelic mixture that was spinning her thoughts around and around like an out-of-control merry-go-round.
She saw the drive-up entrance of the hotel. It was full of taxis and cars with people loading luggage.
Saxon turned her down an alleyway before they made it to the entrance of the garage.
“What—” She only got out part of her question before she saw the car. Dare was there, climbing out as they came into view. He kept his attention behind her and Ginger turned, her jaw dropping open as she noted the silk tie Bram had been wearing was looped through her teeth, her hands secured with handcuffs behind her.
“She’s got a tail, we need to move,” Bram informed them.
Ginger found herself standing alone for the first time since she’d met them. The trunk of the car popped open as Bram came along the side of the car with Kitten.
“Put her in the trunk,” Saxon said without remorse. “That should help lose her tail.”
Kitten made a muffled sound of protest before Bram leaned over and hooked her knees. He lifted her right off her feet and dumped her into the open trunk. Dare reached in and locked a second pair of handcuffs around her ankles as her eyes bulged with outrage.
“Ah…” Ginger struggled with what she was seeing. “You can’t treat someone like that.”
Saxon grabbed her by her bicep, pulling her around to face him. The expression on his face chilled her blood. There was something in his eyes that spoke of a darker taste of life than she’d ever sampled herself. It was more than words, it felt like a perception that was moving through the air between them, and she wanted to reach out and sooth it away.
Ha! He’ll bite…
Problem was, she sort of liked that idea.
“I mean, she’s in custody,” Ginger stammered.
“She will stand by while you are killed, and if someone sees her as we pull out of here, we’re made.”
He bit out each word, holding Ginger prisoner when she wanted to shift back, away from the hard certainty in his eyes. Bram shut the truck with a sound that made Ginger flinch. Saxon was watching her, his lips thinning when he witnessed her reaction. His grip tightened on her, like he was trying to get through to her.
Ginger cast a look at the closed trunk and swallowed her distaste.
“It’s her or you. In Kitten’s world, that’s all she understands. She was looking for you and there is only one reason why she would have been up on that balcony. If she’d seen you first, you’d be dead on the pavement.”
He made horrible sense, and still the sound of Kitten kicking the top of the closed trunk was too much for Ginger to ignore.
“I understand,” Ginger forced herself to say. She didn’t accept it, just couldn’t seem to make it all sink into her brain because, honestly, it was like a foreign language. Just a hundred feet away, she could hear the doorman shouting for a taxi, heard the conversation of excited people getting ready to embark on their New Orleans adventure and somehow, in a grotesque twist of fate, what had just an hour before been a source of excitement, was now a den of vipers waiting to snuff out her life.
“I do.” She repeated as she realized Saxon was contemplating her with a critical eye.
Saxon made a short sound under his breath before he was moving her along the side of the car to the back door. Dare pulled it open and she was in the backseat with Saxon’s help. The guy even put his hand on the top of her head like she’d seen police officers do on television shows. The door slammed shut, giving her a brief moment of privacy to try and gather up the bits of her shattered composure.
Ha! Like that was going to happen.
The three men got into the car in a polished motion that made her shiver. She was caught between awe at their relaxed acceptance of the circumstances and horror to discover any human being so at ease under the threat of death. The car was moving as Saxon reached over and grasped her by the back of her neck. He didn’t give her an explanation as he pushed her face into the seat.
But honestly, she was pretty sure there weren’t enough words in the English language to help her fully understand what had just happened to her. There was only the sense of her mind reeling as Kitten kicked the trunk and Ginger recognized just how similar their circumstances were.
* * *
“They have Kitten.”
The man who delivered the information was sweating. He looked at the wall, waiting to see if he was going to see his own blood splattered across it.
“And the girl?” The question made him flinch.
“I didn’t see her.”
“Neither has anyone else,” the Raven hissed. “But she saw plenty.”
“Maybe it’s time to let me do what Carl Davis sent me down here for.”
The new voice belonged to Tyler Martin. The doorman knew him or at least of him. Some badge-wielding guy from Washington who rubbed elbows with congressmen and the presidential hopeful Carl Davis. He’d been lying low, waiting on the Raven’s good will for the last few weeks.
“I know how to find her,” Tyler Martin said in a lazy tone. “And Carl Davis has the resources to put at my disposal to make sure she doesn’t slip through our fingers. It might be time to reaffirm your relationship with Davis. Make it worth his time for me to clean up this mess.”
“And forget about Pratt?” The Raven asked.
“You could always remember him fondly from a cell on death row,” Tyler Martin said. “Or on the run outside the US borders.”
“I have people who can find a little woman like that.”
Tyler slowly grinned. “Saxon Hale and his team will use her to pull your shell apart.” He leaned forward. “That isn’t your run-of-the-mill undercover team. It’s a Shadow opps, one of the be
st. Experienced, seasoned, and they have already kicked your ass once with the Ryland girl. I am the only fucking hope you have. Inside of two days they will have her testimony logged in, and then, if you kill her, that will only serve as another nail in your coffin.”
Tyler knew the Raven was weighing his options because he was a self-absorbed prick who actually thought he had alternatives. Tyler knew better, and, honestly, would have preferred to sit back and watch the guy fry. But Carl Davis cared because the Raven gave the presidential hopeful a ton of free air time to push his name in the faces of the voters. In the current world of media-addicted consumers, that was worth more than gold. Marc Grog had his hands on the short strings that led straight into the voter’s cell phones, media centers, and gaming systems.
Getting on good terms with the underworld boss was critical to Tyler’s future with Carl Davis.
“Tell Davis if he plugs this leak, I’m onboard with him. Just don’t forget Kitten. She knows too much,” the Raven said.
Tyler pulled his phone out and dialed Carl as the Raven left the room.
* * *
“I was hoping to hear from you sooner.”
Presidential hopeful and leader in the polls Carl Davis always had a smile on his lips and in his tone, but Tyler Martin heard something else. The unmistakable ring of a warning.
“Better a little more time that allows for me to make sure the situation is the right one,” Tyler answered. “I’ve got him over a barrel now.”
“I hope so,” Carl spoke slowly. “What do you have to tell me?”
“A witness got a good look at the Raven pulling the trigger and Saxon Hale managed to extract her while she was still breathing.”
“Fuck,” Carl exclaimed. “He’s screwed without us.” There was a low chuckle on the other end of the line. “Perfect Martin. That is exactly what I needed you to have to hold over that bastard for me.”
“I’ll have to move fast. Hale is no inexperienced kid.”
“No, he isn’t.” Carl’s tone took on a hard edge. “I’m counting on you to make sure he doesn’t get the jump on me the way his brother did with Jeb Ryland.”
“I need a few resources that the slush fund can’t help me with,” Tyler continued. “I need a badge and a team of scene investigators. Full access to the Shadow opps network.”
“What?” Carl’s smile had evaporated. “That would lead them straight back to me if you’re not successful.”
“What sort of game do you think we’re playing here?” Tyler asked softly. “It’s kill or be killed. The Shadow opps are effective because of their resources. The only way I will find Hale’s team is if I can see what he has to draw from, and let me be clear about one thing; there is no one else who knows how Saxon thinks. I trained him.”
When Tyler Martin had been a young man, he’d thought getting a badge with the Shadow opps was all he needed. The problem was, the world wasn’t as large as it once had been. The times when a man could serve honorably and retire to his golden years if he was lucky enough to survive his service time were gone. Today’s world was run by crime bosses that a wise man made happy if an agent wanted to be more than expendable. Justice and honor were only battle cries from eras long gone.
Carl Davis was another form of a crime boss. Just because he was going to the White House didn’t change the fact that he had plenty of dirt on his fingers. He shook hands with those in the underworld because money made the world go around, and in this case, the media would make the difference with the voters.
“I’ll have to arrange a new name for you.”
“Good. I’ll make sure the Raven knows you’re expecting the deal to be honored on his end.” Tyler told Carl exactly what he knew the man wanted to hear.
“You do that,” Carl spoke pointedly. “I will expect his unions to be supporting me as well. Get his people working on campaign bits to flash in front of the viewers. I want my face recognized by every kid old enough to have a cell phone. You tell him that’s the deal.”
“I will.”
“Martin,” Carl said. “Don’t fuck up.”
The line went dead.
Tyler stood for a long moment, hearing the wind for some strange reason. He wasn’t a man given to moments of reflection, but it seemed he couldn’t quite escape it today.
Yeah. He’d trained Saxon and Vitus Hale. They’d worked cases together, shared personal details. That was back when Martin had still believed in honor, before he’d come face to face with how cheap it was to buy men like Saxon and Vitus.
That was it really. The people at the top of the food chain looked on those serving in the Shadow opps as men who could be purchased with medals and speeches about dedication and valor. And then, they’d go pour themselves drinks that cost more than any of those men might earn in a week. While that fine liquor was burning a path down their throats, they’d crack jokes about how rich they were and how rules didn’t apply to them. Wedding vows? A fucking joke. Tax laws? Not for them. Having their asses hanging out in the wind? Well, that was where men like Saxon and Vitus came in, they took the bullet, bled out, left their families behind, and for what? For men who didn’t value them and sure as shit didn’t play by the same rules.
So Martin had jumped the fence. Plenty of his fellow agents would call him a turncoat. He looked at it as being a man who refused to get less than he was worth. If he was going to be someone’s dog, he was going to be kept in style, not tossed bones called valor and honor. Saxon Hale was one of those who enjoyed gnawing on that Honor scrap.
Good.
It would make it easier to kill him.
Tyler heard the wind again.
Okay, maybe “easy” wasn’t the right word, but he wasn’t going to deliberate on the topic. He’d made his choice by selling out Saxon to begin with, so there was only one way to go.
Forward.
Right through Saxon Hale.
CHAPTER TWO
“Doing okay?”
“Sure. Fine.” For some reason, her tongue felt like it was swollen and clumsy.
Saxon wasn’t impressed with her answer. He crossed his arms over his chest and considered her. The assessment made her bristle because she knew she looked like hell. Still, she finished drying off her hands and turned her back on the bathroom sink she’d just used to rinse out her mouth after throwing up the second she stepped out of the car. Getting sick under those circumstances wasn’t something to be ashamed of.
But it didn’t help that Saxon looked so damned in control while she was fighting to maintain hers.
“Really. Steady as a rock.” Ginger fought the urge to brush her hair back. It was just a nervous gesture. She knew she looked fine. “Okay, steady as a rock during an earthquake, but everything does settle down in the end.”
He snorted at her, his lips curving. “That’s a wicked sense of humor you have there.” His lips settled back into a hard line. “Might just serve you well under the circumstances.”
It was a compliment, one her pride eagerly soaked up. They’d stopped at a small house where she’d lost her lunch into the bushes before Saxon had hauled her inside. One of his men had muscled Kitten up the cracked concrete path behind her.
“What are you?” She asked, more than a little desperate to make sense of the last two hours. She didn’t recall falling down a rabbit hole, but it sure felt like she’d left reality.
“Special Agent,” he answered.
And that seemed to be the extent of his explanation so she waited to see what else he wanted. His eyes glittered with questions.
“How did you get past that doorman?”
His tone was all business. It made it really easy to believe he was a Special Agent because the guy sure had an interrogation mode. She was caught in it like a tracker beam in a science fiction show, and his eyes narrowed when she didn’t answer instantly.
“We can do this the easy way or the hard way, Ms. Boyce. Kitten is getting the hard way. I don’t recommend it.”
“A book.
” She was smarting at just how quickly she’d jumped to answer him but hell, he was intimidating and to be blunt, she totally fucking believed him. One of his eyebrows rose when she didn’t offer anything else.
“Details,” he prompted.
She drew in a deep breath and reminded herself that he’d kept her from getting killed. Seemed rather reasonable that he’d want to know the details. But she did take the time to step out of the bathroom and into the bedroom so she had a little more space to put between them. The guy sort of fried her thinking process. Saxon made a motion with his hand for her to start talking.
“Yesterday, I met Kitten—”
“Where?” he interrupted her.
“One of the bars on Bourbon Street.” He remained silent. “So, anyway, she asked what I was doing in town and I told her.”
“Told her what?” he pressed for details.
“That I was here for a librarian convention, but that’s not why I went back to see her.” Ginger held up a finger so he’d let her finish. “You should let me finish or this is going to take forever. We can do a question and answer at the end.”
He grunted but it gave her a bit of a buzz to see that she had the power to set him on his heel. At least in the short term anyway.
Right, you’re delusional. The guy had a woman put in the trunk of the car. He’s probably thinking about making you Kitten’s roomie to teach you who’s boss …
Maybe, she still wasn’t repentant.
“Ms. Boyce?” he pressed her.
She blinked and recovered her train of thought. “I told Kitten I was going to a book signing today, because she asked if I was going to have any fun while I was in town. The conference was business but the book signing was for me.”
His eyes were narrowing. “I’m not following on how you ended up getting past a doorman and into a private party with an underworld crime boss.”
Ginger sent him a smile and shrugged, “If it wasn’t for bad luck, I wouldn’t have any luck at all?”
He made a scoffing sound under his breath. “That’s not funny.”
“It is a little bit funny,” she argued.