The Passion & Vows Series

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The Passion & Vows Series Page 4

by Fiona Davenport


  Tonight, I was going to add another to my tally. It hadn’t taken me long to run my target to ground. I’d spent the last three days observing him, studying all of his behaviors and looking for any sign he’d made contact with anyone else who could pose a threat in the future. I’d caught signs that other agents were hiding in the shadows, the same as me, but nobody had approached him yet. The involvement of others this early in the game meant the clock was ticking faster than I’d originally anticipated. I’d always been good at reading people, a skill my dad had cultivated with pop quizzes about the people surrounding us at the oddest times growing up. With the added behavioral training the agency had given me, I was an expert at determining motives and weaknesses. Heron was a man running scared, and he hadn’t yet had the chance to head for the safety of another country’s agency. The degree of his anxiety indicated it was a possibility in the future, though. Hence, the kill order.

  Glancing down at the watch strapped around my wrist, I noted the time. If he followed the same pattern as the last three nights, Sai would be out of the shower and dressed for his nighttime vigil any minute now. A quick look at my Kestrel 1000 wind meter confirmed the conditions hadn’t changed since I last checked. No additional adjustments needed to be made to the sight on my Vanquish .308 sniper rifle, so I lowered my head and peered through the scope. As expected, it didn’t take long for me to catch sight of my target in the window. But a split-second later, I was in for the shock of my life as I watched a man, dressed in black from head to toe, approach him from behind and press a handgun into his neck. I was determined to follow through with my mission, refusing to allow this shadowy figure to swoop in and steal my target. My finger started to press down on the trigger, but I stopped the motion when I recognized the man’s eyes. There was no mistaking who they belonged to, not when I’d seen them gaze down at me with love, heat, and humor many times over the last four years.

  I lifted my finger completely away from the trigger as the implications of what I was seeing registered in my brain. Alex. The man in black, with the gun in his hand, was Alex. My husband, who was supposed to be in Brazil taking care of boring lawyer stuff. I didn’t have the chance to wrap my brain around the situation. As I watched Alex move the man away from the window, I noticed a flash of red light moving in a sweep from the left side of the window towards the two men.

  Laser light.

  “Shooter,” I hissed, taking aim and firing over Alex’s head, knowing he’d get the hint and take cover. My shot was followed by a volley of fire from the other shooter.

  “Fucking amateur,” I muttered as I shifted my gun and took aim at him. No self-respecting sniper would use a tactical light. The laser was pointless because it draws a straight line and doesn’t account for bullet drop. Not only did it not add any accuracy to the shot, it increased the odds of tipping off your target, like he’d just tipped me off. Spotting his hidey-hole through my non-reflective scope, protecting my position from him as he scanned the area, I added to my body count by taking him out.

  Swinging my rifle back towards the hotel, I swallowed the lump in my throat at the sight of shattered glass and bullet-ridden walls. There was no sign of Alex or Sai, and I could only hope my husband had made it out of the room alive and uninjured. Not only because I loved him, but so he could explain to me what the hell he’d been doing there in the first place!

  With swift motions, I broke my rifle down and packed it up. As I headed for the door, I yanked the ear piece out, dropped it on the ground, and smashed it with my heel. Pulling a secured satellite phone out of my pocket, I dialed the only number stored in it and waited for my boss to answer as I raced down the stairwell. The elevator would be faster, but I’d only disabled the cameras on the stairs since it was my planned route. The last thing I needed was to run into security when I needed to get my ass out of this building and down the street.

  “Status?”

  “Mission incomplete,” I answered.

  Stunned silence filled the line for a moment. In all my years with the agency, I’d never answered this question in the negative before. “Explain.”

  “There was another shooter. An amateur, using a laser scope.”

  “Were you able to eliminate the competition?”

  “Yes, sir. That situation has been neutralized,” I confirmed.

  “And the target?”

  “Fled the scene. I’m in pursuit.” I hesitated, unsure how I wanted to explain that Heron hadn’t been alone when he’d left.

  “Is there anything else I need to know, Scarlett?”

  Heaving out a deep breath as I reached the ground floor and headed for the exit, I considered everything I knew about my husband. Puzzle pieces fell into place, and the most likely explanation came to mind. “Is the Special Operations Group aware of the situation with the target?”

  “Yes, why?”

  “I think there was an agent with the target, attempting a retrieval, when the shots were fired.”

  “I’m sure they’d like to have a conversation with him. Did you recognize the agent?” he asked.

  Did I recognize him as an agent? No.

  Did I recognize him as the man I adored, and who I planned to have a baby with in the very near future? Yes.

  “I’d hate to be put in a position where I have to disavow all knowledge of you because you’ve withheld information which might help me protect you and the mission,” he prodded, irritation clear in his tone.

  “Would your access let you run facial recognition software using a photo in comparison to the agents in the Special Operations Group?”

  “Of course it would,” he snarled. “Did you take the time to snap a picture of the guy when you should have been eliminating your target?”

  “No, sir. The picture I want you to use is one of my husband.”

  “Well, shit, girl. That would be one hell of a turn of events.” My boss’s voice softened. He was well aware of Alex’s place in my life and had advised me to have the agency run a thorough background check on him before we married. Clearly, the report I’d been provided with had excluded quite a bit of important information . “I’ll have an answer for you within ten minutes. But regardless of the answer, I need you to do your job Scarlett.”

  “Understood, sir,” I bit out, disconnecting the call and hopping into the car I’d been using during this mission. Revving the engine, I exited the alley where I’d been parked and headed towards the hotel, three blocks away. As soon as I rounded the corner, I caught sight of a white van idling at the curb. My target was being shoved into the passenger seat. Ignoring the red light in front of me, I blasted the intersection to the blare of horns from angry drivers who had the right of way. The sound drew the man in black’s attention as he circled the van for the driver’s side. He turned to look over his shoulder, and I was struck anew by recognition. The way he moved, the shape of his face, his height. This man had to be Alex.

  I raced through another intersection, the last one separating me from the van, while it peeled away from the curb. Tires screeching, the driver made a quick getaway with me right on his rear bumper. He tried to evade me, but I stayed glued to him, even as several police cars passed us as they raced towards the hotel.

  “C’mon, c’mon, c’mon,” I chanted, unused to waiting instead of acting. But I wasn’t about to do anything that could cause the driver of the van harm if it might be Alex. Watching the vehicle weave in and out of traffic, I couldn’t help but be impressed with the driver’s skills—much the same as I had been the first time Alex had driven the Aston Martin I’d given him as a present. Although only four and a half minutes had passed, it felt like forever when my sat phone rang.

  “Is he an agent?”

  “Yes, Scarlett. It would appear like attracts like in the case of your marriage, because Alex is part of the Special Operations Group, where he goes by the code name Justice.”

  “Justice,” I repeated, part of me wanting to laugh at the nickname which fit my husband so well, w
hile the other side of me wanted to howl in frustration. Then it hit me, “Wait, the Justice everybody is always talking about? The one who is able to break anyone?”

  “Yes.”

  This was too much to comprehend all at once. Justice was a fucking legend in The Company. And apparently, I was married to him. Now what did that say about my ability to read people?

  “Snap out of it, Scarlett. You still have a mission to complete, one which is at direct odds with the orders your husband has most likely received. Can I trust you to get the job done or do I need to send someone else in?”

  “You can trust me, sir.” I wasn’t sure if my answer was truthful, but it was the only one I was willing to give. There was no way in hell I’d allow another assassin from my division anywhere in the vicinity of Alex. “I’ll handle it.” One way or another.

  Disconnecting the call, I dropped the sat phone on the passenger seat and dug in the center console for my personal cell. With a quick swipe across the screen, it powered up.

  “Call Alex.”

  Following my voice command, the call went through and I waited as the line rang on the other end. Once. Twice. At the third ring, I figured he was going to let it go straight to voicemail—understandable since he was in the middle of a high speed chase on the streets of Rome with an unwilling passenger in the van. Then on the fourth ring, he picked up.

  “Hey, baby. I’m kind of in the middle of something. Is everything okay?”

  Oh, he was in the middle of something all right.

  “Hey, stud. I was wondering if you’d like to meet up in Rome instead of Fiji. It’s been a little while since we’ve visited there.”

  For pleasure at least, I wasn’t about to count any of my post-mission debriefings there. Who knew how often he’d been there for the same reason over the last four years? Now that I thought about it, if Rome was his station in Europe too, I was kind of surprised we’d never run into each other unexpectedly during a mission before now, since we’d both been out of the country simultaneously a ridiculous number of times over the years. And he didn’t know I was in the car following him, yet. I was curious to see how he’d try to talk his way out of this one. Yeah, even though I’d been lying to him just as long and in the same way, I still wanted to fuck with him a bit because I was a little hurt. It wasn’t exactly fair, but the feelings were there just the same. Who knew I could be such a girl?

  “I don’t know, baby. I was looking forward to seeing you in nothing but your tiny white bikini.”

  The van swerved to the right, and there was a muffled grunt in the background, followed by a growled curse from Alex.

  “What was that, Alex? We must have a bad connection because I couldn’t hear you clearly.”

  “Nothing, baby. Just some asshole who had something to say about you in a bikini. Don’t worry, I shut him up.”

  His response was so typical Alex that it made tears well in my eyes. No matter what we’d been hiding from each other, one thing was undeniable—Alex loved me as much as I loved him. Our love would see us through this mess, I was certain of it. The authorities must have realized the seriousness of the situation because ten more police cars zoomed past us, sirens blaring wildly. As I was preparing to blurt out the news that I was in the car behind him, I heard the sound echo through the line.

  “Evie?” He must have heard it too. His brain didn’t take as long as mine had to sift through the facts and reach the right conclusion. “I’m pulling over.”

  His voice was a deep growl, the one usually reserved for when he was about to fuck me hard. It sent shivers down my spine, even as butterflies took flight in my belly. Sure enough, the brakes lights went on in front of me as the van slowed down and moved to the side of the road. I followed behind him, coming to a stop as he leapt from the van and stalked towards me. Dressed in combat boots, black cargo pants, a tight black shirt stretched over his chest, and with a black knit cap over his dark hair, Alex was the epitome of a dangerous man. Hot and deadly with the Beretta gripped in his right hand. The situation was fucked beyond all recognition, but he’d never looked sexier to me.

  Chapter 4

  Alex

  I jerked the van to the side of the road, ignoring Heron when he was thrown up against the side door. His restraints kept him from righting himself, and I didn’t care. The asshole shouldn’t have been making comments about my wife.

  Speaking of my wife... I jumped out of the driver’s seat, out onto the sidewalk and glared at the car screeching to a stop behind my vehicle. Sure enough, Evie sat behind the wheel and I was caught up in a tumble of emotions. The most prevalent being fear for her safety, but anger was a damn close second. I heard a thump and a grunt of pain from inside the van, and since I was irrationally blaming Heron for this whole situation, I was inordinately pleased at the thought of him trying to shift around inside and injuring himself in the process.

  While I waited for her to turn off the engine and exit the car, I ripped my ear bud out and stuffed it in a pocket so I didn’t have to listen to Martin ramble on. He was trying to figure out what was happening, and I didn’t have the slightest fucking clue, nor did I want anyone to be privy to the situation at hand. I stood there taking deep breaths, trying to calm my racing heart and cool my ire before I absolutely lost it on her.

  She stepped from the car, her long, lithe body encased in form fitting black pants, a long-sleeved thermal, and boots laced up to her knees. Her long mahogany hair was pulled back into a slick ponytail, the red highlights showing up in the sun. Her face was devoid of makeup, giving her a natural look so she wouldn’t stand out. But, it didn’t matter what Evie did to try and blend in, she drew every eye around her. It was about the worst timing ever to be sporting a hard on, but my wife looked so fucking sexy I almost forgot what I was mad about. All I wanted to do was drag her to the nearest bed and fuck her hard.

  Shaking my head a little, I tried to clear away the lust-filled haze. I tucked my gun into the back waistband of my pants and covered it with my shirt. I felt like one of those idiots in movies, but at the moment, it was the best way to keep it hidden. She stopped near the rear of the van and peeked into the window, an irritated expression materializing on her face at whatever it was she saw. She turned and leaned against the side of the vehicle, crossing her arms over her chest and stared at me.

  “What the fuck are you doing here, Evie?” I growled.

  Her eyes narrowed and her chin lifted stubbornly. “I could ask you the same question, Justice.”

  It wasn’t like I’d had much time to process all of this, but I didn’t realize how much I was hoping this was all some kind of fucked-up coincidence until she used my code name.

  “And by the way,” she snarled, “you need to watch your back more carefully, Alex. Another sniper might have shot you, and I’d rather you didn’t make me a widow.”

  I staggered back a half step, she couldn’t possibly mean… No. Could she? “It was you shooting the spray of bullets through the window?” As shocked as I was that Evie was clearly a sniper, and holy fuck was I shocked to learn my sweet wife was a fucking assassin, I had a hard time believing it had been her. She was a perfectionist, and I couldn’t see her being so careless.

  “how She scowled, clearly offended. “Of course it wasn’t me,” she snapped. “I only fired the warning shot. I’m not an amateur.”

  Not an amateur. How long had this been going on? “Exactly how long have you been experienced at this, Evie?” I asked through clenched teeth.

  Her face fell and sadness crept into her dark brown eyes. “You mean how long have I been lying to you? Probably as long as you’ve been doing so to me.”

  Was our whole life one big charade? A painful thought began to creep into my head, no matter how much I tried to keep it out. Had she married me to establish her cover? I pushed back the insistent doubt. No. I knew she loved me as much as I loved her.

  However, this shit ended right now. I wasn’t going to let my wife constantly put herself
in danger. It would tear me up inside, and I couldn’t live with the worry and pain. What if something had happened to her? How could she continue going on missions, knowing she was endangering my whole reason for living?

  I closed the distance between us and gripped her biceps firmly, but gentle enough so I wouldn’t hurt her. “We are going to have a long ass discussion about this, but I haven’t got the time right now. I need to get my target to a safe house.”

  Evie shuffled, looking slightly uncomfortable. “About that…” she trailed off, glancing at the van before meeting my eyes again. Her usually warm brown eyes were filled with steely determination. “I’m going to need you to remand him into my custody. I’ve got orders too.”

  “Why don’t we take him in together? We’ll both get our chance to interoga—” I broke off when Evie’s face turned wary.

  Her eyes strayed to the van once again, then she sighed as she looked back at me. “I’m not here to talk to him, Justice.”

  I bristled at her us of my code name. I didn’t like hearing it from her lips. But she was obviously using it for a reason and when it sunk in, I wanted to put my fist through a wall. Or through the face of the motherfucker who recruited Evie.

  She was sent to kill Heron, which meant—my head was about to explode with the amount of shit being heaped onto me in such a short period of time.

  “You’re Scarlett.” It was a statement, not a question.

  “Yes.”

  Holy fuck. My wife had one of the highest kill records at the agency. Well, she would if they actually acknowledged her as an operative. I had to admit, there was some pride blooming in my chest because my wife was the shit. Although, no one would know. Evie was beyond black ops. Her division, if you could call it that, wasn’t on any official records. Not even top secret, redacted files. Which meant, if she was ever captured, there was no paper trail to connect her to the CIA. She would be out in the cold, which is an ironic expression considering she would become a burned spy.

 

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