Cuckoo (Kindred Book 3)

by Scarlett Finn

  All three of them worked out in the gym then had a late dinner. It was the early hours when they retired to their bedrooms. Although they weren’t particularly tired, it was important that they were well-rested and alert when meeting with Kahlil.

  Sitting in the middle of their bed, Zara watched Brodie come out of the walk-in closet and strip off. “How are you doing?” she asked because he was scowling again and she’d noticed that expression several times tonight. It wasn’t unusual for Brodie to be glaring at something, but she wanted to know how much time he’d spent worrying about what would be revealed.

  “Pumped and ready to get this over with,” he said.

  When he came over to the bed, she lifted the blanket for him to slide beneath it to lie out on his back. He pulled her into his side, pressing her chest to his ribs to tuck her under his arm, which curled so he could toy with her hair.

  What they learned tomorrow could change everything Brodie thought about his childhood. “No matter what Kahlil tells us tomorrow, it won’t change how much your parents loved you.”

  “I know. I’m not thinking about that.”

  Twisting to her front, she laid her crooked arm on his chest and flattened her palm on it to prop her chin on her knuckles. “So what are you thinking about? I know you’re nervous.”

  “I’m not nervous. I don’t get nervous before ops. We’ve talked about it. We know what we have to do.”

  “This isn’t like ops you’ve done before. This one is personal.”

  That got him to focus on her. “You don’t think the last couple have been personal? We lost the chief and Saint. Every time you got yourself in trouble, it’s been personal.”

  “You know what I mean,” she said. “You might find out something that you don’t like, and you’ll have to deal with someone talking about your business. Most of what I know about your past comes from what other people have told me because you hate talking about your past that much. Are you worried that you won’t be able to control yourself?”

  His shrug moved both of them, and he scooped a hand behind his head. “Sure, if he pisses me off, he’ll get a bullet between his eyes. But that’s likely to happen anyway. Once we know what he knows, we can erase him.”

  Zara was worried that Brodie would struggle to restrain himself. He could be volatile if someone overstepped the mark, and by his measure that was guaranteed tomorrow. They were going there specifically with the goal of finding out a truth Brodie had coveted for so long.

  “If it gets too difficult, if you need to walk away, then walk away,” she said. Another reason for taking Tuck was to take the pressure off Brodie, who might not be thinking clearly. If Brodie freaked out and wailed on someone or threatened to murder them or just flat out left the building, she and Tuck would be able to hold the meeting together and get what they came for.

  “I would never leave you unprotected,” he said, pushing her head onto his shoulder, probably because looking at her while he was contemplating the possibilities was too revelatory. She was getting good at reading him and watching the nuance of his expression would tell her how he was handling the prospect of tomorrow.

  “I won’t be unprotected, Tuck will be with me,” she said, tracing her fingertip down his abdomen, into and out of his belly button, then down the line of hair that led to his groin. The blanket was draped over his hips, limiting her access to her toy. “We’re there to support you with whatever you need tomorrow, and when it’s done and we’re back here… we’ll deal with whatever you need together.”

  “I’m not worried about hearing his story,” Brodie said. “It’s not gonna be nice, but whatever, I’ll deal with it. I’ve heard criminals spout all sorts of shit.”

  She didn’t doubt that, she’d been a part of the Kindred world for a short time in comparison to Brodie, and she’d already heard some whoppers of ego spin their yarns. “By not volunteering anything, I have to guess,” she said. “I know something’s on your mind.”

  “I’m thinking about what comes next,” he said. “If we get the names of the people responsible for sabotaging Future’s Hope.”

  “Then you’ll want to go after them,” she said. “That makes sense and that’s what we’re all planning to do. You don’t have to worry about another mission, we’re prepared.”

  “I promised to take you away. Maybe it’s not worth chasing the past when for the first time, I have a future to think about.”

  Brodie didn’t think about the future, and when they first met, he’d told her that he didn’t make plans beyond tomorrow because life was dangerous and no one could be sure they had a future. Art had taught him that every person was on a path to the one day in their life when they wouldn’t come back. Art had reached his one day in the Atlas warehouse, and on that day he had told Brodie to embrace a normal life because he had a woman to love.

  Since she was thinking of the chief, it stood to reason that Brodie was too. “Are you thinking about Art?” she asked, and Brodie’s hand stilled in her hair.

  “How did you know that?”

  “Because Art was the one who told you that you had a future. He told you to embrace what we have… Are you finally thinking that marriage and kids and normal could be a part of your life?”

  “Is that what you want?” he asked. “Marriage, kids, normal.”

  Brodie had turned her traditional thoughts of the future on their head until she wasn’t sure what might crop up further down the line. “I want whatever will make us both happy,” she said, sensing how carefully she had to tiptoe through this minefield of a subject. “If you want to get married and have kids, we’ll do that. But you’re the one who told me you had mortal enemies. I think it makes sense to eliminate as many threats in our lives as we can before we can think about settling down into the bliss of normalcy.”

  “That means taking out Caine and Sikorski. We’d have to get rid of Kahlil and whoever else he might point his finger at.”

  “I know,” she said. “We have plenty of time to think about normal. Let’s just focus on where we are now and the task that needs to be done.”

  This was like a role reversal conversation. Brodie was usually the one reining in her talk of superfluous things. She didn’t begrudge Brodie his hesitancy, and it was flattering that he was so concerned for her future and her safety.

  Tomorrow, Brodie would get the last piece of the puzzle about his past, and the news would send them on a new journey. Zara just hoped he wouldn’t self-destruct while listening to the distressing story about the loss of his parents on the day that had haunted him for more than half his life.

  TWENTY

  Zave and Thad’s plane was delayed. Typical that both men should have the ability to fly aircraft themselves, yet they were stranded at an airport. The mission carried on. Kahlil wouldn’t care about their cohorts being held up. Their reduced numbers were a bonus for him. Brodie didn’t want to give Kahlil extra time to prepare or call reinforcements. They had to go ahead.

  In a rare occurrence, after the van was stocked, the main gate was opened, and Zara was the one allowed to drive through it. Brodie and Tuck were on their motorcycles to give them the option of a quick escape should the need arise. There wasn’t anything in the van that couldn’t be left behind as a last resort, and she knew how to stay low and loose if she had to ride bitch with Brodie to make a break for freedom.

  The men on their bikes flanked her front and back, making her feel like the President being escorted by two trained lethal weapons who were on the lookout for any threat who may try to get to her. Having Brodie in her line of sight through the windshield and Tuck in her side mirror was reassuring. Each of them wore earpieces that allowed them to communicate, and she was wearing her pendant that transmitted a picture to the manor.

  Stopped at a light, she began to murmur the words of a song that had been stuck in her head. She couldn’t have the radio on to distract her, as it might interfere with the signal they were transmitting to each other.

  �
��Don’t be nervous,” Brodie said, and the sound of his voice in her ear startled her.

  Talking to herself was a habit she was accustomed to, though other drivers might be surprised to see her lips moving in conversation. “I’m not nervous,” she said.

  “You’re singing,” Brodie said. “That’s oral fidgeting.”

  If he wanted to dish out orders, she’d give him a distraction of his own to help relax him. “You’ve never had a problem with anything else oral I do,” she purred.

  “I rule that mouth, pretty baby, and right now you keep it shut.”

  Opening it, she drew in a breath because now wasn’t the time to tease and torment him, at least not too much. She wanted him to be focused, given that it was likely they’d need him to bail them out today. The Kindred would be looking to Brodie to lead, and he was in that mindset. But there was no telling how what Kahlil had to say about Future’s Hope would affect Brodie’s focus.

  They drove the final few miles together in the same formation. The streets they passed through grew more dilapidated and desolate the farther they got from the shore. The gray building that was their destination was soon upon them, and she knew to follow Brodie’s bike into the adjacent alley because Brodie had broken down the itinerary for them. They were a great team.

  “Everybody check in,” Brodie said in her ear as they stopped their vehicles. On one side was a solid boundary wall that linked to nothing. On the other side was the door they’d use to enter the meeting.

  She couldn’t blame Kahlil for choosing this old office block on the outskirts of town. The area used to be bustling when the factories were still in production. These days, it was mostly occupied by hobos and criminals. The Kindred belonged to the latter group, so they were right at home.

  The windows were boarded up, and the rear exit was blocked by a steel screen, bolted into the wall to secure the now condemned building. They had to go in the side, through the only accessible entrance, which could lead to them arriving in an ambush. But the choice made sense. Although there were buildings around, there was no line of sight. Kahlil knew what Raven was capable of and had chosen a location accordingly. If they’d objected, it would suggest to Kahlil that they planned to hurt him.

  She waited in the van while the other two dismounted their bikes and removed their helmets. Following his instructions, Zara stayed put until Brodie came over and opened her door with Tuck at his back. The van key was left in the ignition as he’d coached her to do on their dry run. Brodie had every detail covered.

  “You ready?” Brodie asked her. Typical that he should concentrate his concern on her when they all knew this meeting was going to be stressful for him. Focusing on her kept him distracted. Lifting her palm to his face, he caught her wrist to pull it down. “We don’t know who’s in there. Until we do—”

  “We’re colleagues,” she said, shirking her familiarity. “Got it.”

  Kahlil had to know that they were romantically involved and would tell any cohorts about it. That didn’t mean they should flaunt their relationship, as it could tempt observers to use it against them.

  Brodie went first and Tuck gestured for her to follow. So in the same formation in which they’d ridden over, they went toward the side door.

  Tuck took hold of her shoulders to guide her aside when Brodie sidestepped in the other direction. She knew by now not to make a target of herself, so she waited being as still as she could be. After Brodie had checked out the inside, he gestured them in, and they followed.

  The room they entered was stripped of everything. Mold grew on the walls, the floorboards were stained, and a wooden staircase to the left was rotting away and crumbling.

  Kahlil was already here, against the far wall with a black suitcase behind him and no weapon in sight. Good thing she’d warned the others about the poison in his watch.

  “No weapons? Show me your belt, empty your pockets.” When everyone did that, Kahlil seemed satisfied. “I want you over here,” Kahlil said, and he seemed more agitated than usual. They all began to move, but he jumped forward. “She stays there. You two come here.”

  She didn’t want to be separated, but brief eye contact with Brodie gave her his command to stay. If anything happened, he’d probably tell her to run. But with a tense and edgy opponent in the room, she thought it best not to cause trouble. All she could do was stay near the door and watch as the three men moved past each other in a wide arc, keeping distance between them and eyes on at the same time.

  “Where’s Leatt?” Brodie asked. An unaccounted for party posed too many questions. Whatever Leatt was up to, they had to assume it was sinister.

  “Close by,” Kahlil said. “He won’t be joining us.”

  Interesting. What was the point of having a partner if he wasn’t around to watch your back? “Ben won’t hurt me,” she said to soothe Brodie whose mind was working fast, she could see it behind his frown.

  Kahlil wasn’t bothered about easing their worries. “She’s going to take me outside and show me the device is here,” Kahlil said, snatching her wrist.

  Her love’s scowl sharpened. “She’ll walk nice and calm with you if you take your hands off her,” Brodie said. “Touch her again and I’ll be waiting inside that door to break your neck.”

  And he would do it too. The intensity of his eyes and the growl in his voice made Kahlil let her go and hold up his hands in surrender. No need to aggravate an already tense situation. Glancing at Brodie, she got the nod and went outside to wait for Kahlil, who walked out backwards, still holding up his hands.

  Something silver was hooked over his thumb. “What’s that?” she asked, leading him to the van. “The shiny thing in your hand.”

  “The key for the suitcase we left in there with your friends,” he said, his attention darting from the van to the building entrance.

  Something else was going on here. Unless she had underestimated how intimidated Kahlil was by Brodie. “Why are you so nervous?” she asked, opening the rear doors of the van. “Shooting you gets us nothing. We’re here for the story.”

  His attention piqued and he relaxed for the first time. “The story? You will exchange the device for the story alone?”

  Before he could look too closely at the Game Time device, she slammed the doors. “Why?” she asked, turning expectation onto him. “Is there a problem with our money? What’s in the case inside? You have to show it to us.”

  Brodie had chastised her for fidgeting, yet it was clear to her that Kahlil was the one on edge. Grabbing her arm, he hauled her toward the entrance, ignoring her question. “Move,” he insisted, and she was dragged along at his side.

  “You’ll want to let me go before Raven sees you.”

  Kahlil didn’t argue, just appreciated the reminder, and let her go. Kahlil was usually cool, confident to the point of cocky, but he wasn’t as assured today.

  “We agreed no weapons,” Kahlil hissed, pushing open the door that had swung shut behind them.

  “He is a weapon,” she mumbled before stepping inside behind him.

  Brodie and Tuck were still there against the far wall, except now there was distance between the two Kindred members. The suitcase hadn’t moved, but that didn’t surprise her. They didn’t care about the money.

  “I’m satisfied,” Kahlil said.

  She wasn’t sure if she should join her faction or stay with Kahlil. Weighing the advantage, she concluded that she would rather be near the door to ensure escape for her side if the need arose. Instead of backing toward the door, she took a few steps forward, deciding that she wasn’t going to give Kahlil the chance to grab her again.

  So far, no one had pulled a weapon or gotten too aggressive. This was a business transaction, though not like any she’d been party to at CI. It didn’t seem to matter how often she reminded herself that these men were professionals. The image of losing Art and losing Grant kept replaying. They couldn’t afford to lose anyone else. It would devastate the team and would be the end of the Kind
red. She didn’t know how they could possibly rebound from another tragedy.

  “Tell us what we want to know,” she said because she wouldn’t make Brodie ask.

  Kahlil took another look at each of them and began to move backwards toward the door. She feared that he planned to take off, but instead of going out, he planted his back on the wall near the doorframe.

  “Your father was a stubborn man,” Kahlil said. “I was still a kid, running errands for the boss, desperate for his praise. I was working low-level security. I was a nobody. But I kept my mouth shut. I was there in the room, but not in the room. I was invisible to anyone who mattered. The boss was angry, he wanted the device, and your father said he was shutting down the project.”

  “The project,” Zara said and didn’t mind turning her back on her cohorts to examine Kahlil. “You mean Game Time.”

  Kahlil nodded. “Threatened the family and everything, nothing worked. Your old man was happy to let his family die, let you and your brother die, before he would let go of the device.”

  If Kahlil wanted to piss Brodie off, he had to have a death wish. Brodie and Grant had a bust up over their father, and it ended their fraternal relationship. At that point, Brodie had chosen to let Grant live, but that was his brother, he wouldn’t be so kind to a non-relative.

  “Watch yourself,” Zara warned, though she imagined Brodie’s expression was doing the same thing. “You’re outnumbered.”

  Assessing the scene, she began to think, and Brodie must have noticed her frown when she twisted enough that he could see her profile. When Kahlil spoke, he was quickly interrupted. “I—”

  “What?” Brodie asked. “Baby, what is it?”

  So much for being colleagues. “He’s alone, and I think the suitcase is empty,” she said. This was wrong, Leatt wasn’t supporting him, and Kahlil wanted them to deliver Game Time for the story alone. Something smelled off.