by Lucy Score
Malachi held up his hands. “I ran a surveillance detection route on the way here. No one’s any the wiser as to your whereabouts,” he assured Waverly.
“Look on the bright side. At least no one knows where you, Dante, and Petra are,” Micah said.
“Okay, Pollyanna.” Xavier crossed his arms. “How do we make this work?”
“Travers here isn’t my only buddy in law enforcement,” Micah said, taking a sip of his soda. “Let me make some calls.”
“Dial fast,” Xavier warned him. “We’re almost out of time.
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Roz had a four-course Italian dinner sent over to the house that evening, and they all gathered around the massive dining table. Ten of them around the table laughing and talking as if lives didn’t hang in the balance. They told stories of childhoods and movies and missions and life over bottles of wine and plates of lasagna.
They felt like a team to Waverly, almost like family. All these people coming together for her. She’d spent almost her entire life feeling alone, facing obstacles by herself. And to have all these men and women who were willing to go head-to-head with an enemy for her? It hit her in the heart. The lives and livelihoods of so many people were riding on her getting this right. The responsibility weighed heavily on her. She owed them all so much more than she’d ever be able to repay. But she vowed she’d find a way.
Kate winked at her across the table, reading Waverly’s mind as she’d always been able to. The woman always had her back, and Waverly decided that as soon as this mess was done, she was sending her on an all-expenses paid vacation to wherever Kate wanted to go.
After dinner, Malachi decided not to spend the night so he could stay close to anything that went down in the field office. When she watched him leave, Waverly closed her eyes for a moment.
She tried to zone out with Kate, Petra, and Dante while they watched reruns of Gilmore Girls, but her mind kept running through the plan.
When Xavier came up behind her and nuzzled her ear, it was a very welcome distraction. “Come with me,” he whispered. “We’re going to go have some fun.”
“Now?” She followed him upstairs to their bedroom. When he only studied her outfit rather than stripping her out of it, she looked down, too. She wore jeans and a fitted black sweater in the softest cashmere.
“What?”
“Just making sure you can move. Go find some shoes that you can walk in.”
“I take it your version of ‘fun’ doesn’t involve sex?” she asked, slipping on a pair of sneakers.
“Consider the first part of our date foreplay. Bring your gun,” he told her.
Well this was going to be interesting foreplay, she decided.
They took the Escalade, and before they’d left the driveway, Xavier was reaching for her hand. She looked down at their linked hands. How quickly things had changed between them. It had taken Xavier a matter of days to reawaken feelings she thought were long dead. Waverly knew the truth now. She’d loved him then and had never stopped. For better or horrible, her heart belonged to Xavier Saint.
“So what’s with the sudden craving for fun?” she finally asked. “Shouldn’t we be hunkered down with the rest of the team preparing for tomorrow? This isn’t exactly your style.”
“I can be fun!” Xavier said with a fierce frown.
“Can you?” She was mostly teasing. Though Xavier was many things—invincible, brave, gorgeous, powerful, dark—fun just wasn’t what came to mind first. It wasn’t even in the top ten. “Don’t be mad, X. You can’t possibly be everything, can you?”
“I’ll let you be the judge of that,” he said, still looking vaguely annoyed.
Twenty-five minutes later, she was still turning it over in her head when Xavier pulled the Escalade into the parking lot of a long, squat building the same color as the desert that surrounded it on all sides.
“Harry’s Guns and Shooting Range?” Waverly asked, reading the sign. “You’re taking me shooting?”
“Gotta make sure you can handle your piece,” he winked.
“I handle your piece just fine,” she said dryly.
“Angel, there’s nothing ‘just fine’ about the way you handle my piece.” He slid out of the driver’s seat, and Waverly followed him to the back of the SUV. When he lifted the hatch, she just stared.
“Did you bring an entire arsenal?” she asked, taking in the dozen neatly stacked cases packed in the back.
“Angel, you haven’t seen anything yet,” he said with a steamy look.
She felt the warm glow spread from her belly. Would she ever get used to the way he looked at her? She hoped not.
Together they carried the cases to the darkened storefront. Xavier, his hands full, kicked lightly at the door. Almost instantly, a light turned on in the back. Waverly could just make out a shadowy figure shuffling toward the door. The shadow jingled keys in the lock and pushed the door open.
“Evening, Xavier.”
“Good to see you, Harry.” Xavier motioned Waverly inside. “Harry, this is Waverly.”
“I’m not blind, son. I know a beautiful movie star when I see one.” In the dim light, Waverly could see snowy white hair and broad shoulders on a short frame. The man wore bifocals and a red and black flannel shirt.
“Hi, Harry,” Waverly offered the greeting as she slid her load of cases onto the glass counter that housed the usual gun shop treasures.
“Well, this must be a special occasion. As long as Xavier’s been coming here, he’s never brought company before, let alone company as pretty as you. Hope to see more of you,” Harry said, in a lopsided cadence.
“I hope you will, too,” Xavier said, laying a hand on the man’s shoulder while looking at Waverly.
“Well, I’ll leave you to it. You know how to lock up,” Harry said, stuffing his hands into the pockets of his Dockers.
“Thanks again for opening up,” Xavier said.
Harry shuffled out the front door and locked it from the outside. He threw a little half wave, half salute and Waverly waved back.
“You do this often?” she asked, picking up her cases again.
“When I’m in town and need to blow off some steam,” Xavier said, leading the way through the retail and repair section into a narrow hallway of whitewashed concrete block. One wall had a large glass window overlooking the six-lane indoor firing range.
He opened the door to the range and slid his cases onto a long shelf that ran the length of the window. While he organized the weaponry, Waverly pushed the recall button on the first lane, calling the target clip home. Xavier reached over her and clipped the full body target in place and sent it back out to ten yards.
He settled ear protection over her ears and gestured toward the safety glasses. “Ladies first.”
She slid the eye protection on and plucked her Glock out of the molded foam compartment.
Waverly ejected the magazine, checked it, and slapped it home. Racking the slide, she adopted a wide-legged stance and sized up the target with a smooth inhale. On her exhale, she emptied the magazine into the target.
She placed the gun on the shelf and smirked as Xavier hit the recall button. She was a damn good shot and knew it. Dante had taught her tradecraft, but he was a terrible shot, so she’d hired a private coach for training. She had shown talent from day one, and with a few lessons and a lot of practice, she was solid.
Xavier let out a low whistle. Six shots were neatly clustered in the center of the chest. Any of them would have been fatal.
“Not bad,” Xavier said. “Now, what if the guy is wearing a vest?” He sent the target back out.
Waverly loaded in a fresh magazine and repeated the process. This time, when Xavier pulled the target back there was a grouping of four shots to the head and two in the groin.
“Remind me not to piss you off,” Xavier said with amusement.
“As if you need that reminder.” She handed him her gun. “Let�
�s see what you can do, Mr. Saint.”
He reloaded and with a cheerful smirk, fired off six shots. Xavier ejected the spent magazine, reloaded, and emptied that one, too.
Xavier was the essence of a man: raw, masculine, powerful, and cocky. He’d shed his suit jacket and fired the handgun in shirt sleeves and a tie. Waverly could feel her mouth spread in a slow smile of female appreciation for the fine picture before her.
“Damn,” she sighed.
His target was toast. Six shots to the head in a tight little grouping. Six more opened up one big gaping hole in the chest.
“I like what you do with a gun, X.”
He laughed. A real laugh like the kind he reserved for family and close friends. “I like what you do with my gun.”
“Aren’t you playful tonight?” Waverly commented, slyly arching an eyebrow.
“I can be fun. Why does everyone think I’m so serious?”
“They also think you’re dark and intense and maybe a little scary.”
He meant to tease her with a quick kiss, but Waverly shifted those intentions with her response. There was so much going on behind those deep brown eyes of his. She wished she could tease it out of him. She settled instead for teasing his lazy tongue and nipping at his lower lip until Xavier was pressing her against the divider wall of their booth.
Playful or not it was a marvel what he was able to do to her body. With just a kiss, he set her afire. His hands cruised up her side, sneaking under the softness of cashmere. But he stopped short, resting his rough palms against her waist.
He pulled away from her mouth with a sound akin to a growl. “That’s not why I brought you here.”
“I won’t complain,” Waverly said, trying to catch her breath. No matter who instigated the kiss, they both always ended up affected. She leaned into him, resting her face against his chest. He was always so warm, so solid. His body meant comfort and security to her. Strength, power, and heat were the hallmarks of what she felt under her hands when she let her palms wander his skin.
He was protector, predator, hero.
Now it was her turn to take a step back. Xavier overwhelmed her. Her feelings for him threatened to drown her. And tonight, she needed air and space. “Maybe we should shoot some more before we get naked?” she suggested.
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They broke out eight handguns, firing them and stripping them down one at a time. Xavier had to admit Waverly was good. Not only was she an excellent shot, but she also handled the weapons with competency and a healthy respect. He was confident she could physically hit a human target. But he wasn’t sure she’d be mentally prepared to do so. Taking a life, no matter how necessary, wasn’t easy. It could weigh heavily, and he prayed his Angel would never be in that position where it became necessary.
He would always put himself between her and any danger. But not tomorrow, he reminded himself. Tomorrow she’d face her threats head-on while he stood in the wings. He shoved the thought aside. There was no room for worry. But he could test her skills and prove to her that he too could be fun.
Xavier grabbed her around the waist and pulled her in again. “You ready for some real fun?” he asked her, his voice husky and full of dark promises.
She smiled coyly, her fingers curling into the neck of his t-shirt. “I’m always ready for some fun.”
He liked that she pouted when he broke away from her. He took her hand and led her back into the narrow hallway. “This is a top secret Invictus project,” Xavier warned her, sliding the key into the lock of the last door. “I have to swear you to secrecy before I allow you to enter.”
Waverly held up three fingers. “Scouts honor,” she promised.
The knob turned in his hand, and Xavier let Waverly enter first.
“I don’t know what I was expecting, but it was definitely something more exciting,” she confessed, eyeing the room.
A large screen hung from the ceiling to cover most of the sidewall. On the opposite wall was a serviceable metal locker.
“You’ll be impressed in a minute. Be patient.” He closed the door behind her and crossed to the cabinet. Brandishing yet another key, he unlocked it and beckoned her over.
“Tell me you don’t have a severed head in there,” she said, approaching cautiously.
“Don’t be ridiculous. Everyone knows you keep those in the freezer. Here.” He handed her a headset with goggles and took one for himself.
She studied the set in her hands. “Is this VR?”
“First person shooter virtual reality in beta testing for law enforcement and private security capacities,” he explained, handing her a weighted plastic pistol.
“No way!”
“Yes way,” he smiled. “Testing is underway at the farm for CIA recruits and four police departments across the country.”
“How did you come up with this?” Waverly asked, ejecting the gun’s magazine.
Xavier shrugged. “There’ve been other basic VR programs out there but none with the programmable and randomized scenarios we’ve built. Cops can train on domestic disturbance, shots fired, and hostage calls. The CIA wanted drop scenarios with evasions and counterterrorism situations.”
“You must have been developing this for years,” she guessed.
“After you. After Ganim, I stopped working in the field and instead focused on revamping our training program. Micah and I, our backgrounds are military. We know what it feels like to be in a firefight, to have that adrenaline pumping through you when your life is on the line. But without that experience…”
“You can’t anticipate how someone’s going to react in a situation when it’s life or death,” Waverly filled in.
Xavier nodded, pleased that she got it. “Exactly. You can have all the training in the world and still freeze up when someone pulls a gun on you. Or in the case of some law enforcement, you can error on the trigger-happy side. We’re building a program now for traffic stops to help troopers determine real versus perceived threats.”
“X, that’s amazing,” Waverly said, impressed.
He shrugged lightly and pulled a vest from the locker.
“I need Kevlar for virtual reality?”
“Dual function,” he explained, sliding the vest over her head. “It gets you used to the weight of a vest, and this one lets you know when you’ve been hit in the training.” He tightened the side straps, sizing the vest down for her.
“Awesome!” She danced in place. “You take the girls on the best dates!”
He gave her a grin, feeling like a different kind of hero. “I tell you what. If you can make it through the scenario without getting tagged, I’ll stop for tacos on the way back.”
“You are so on!”
“It’s not easy,” he warned.
“Have a little faith,” she told him. “There’s nothing I won’t do for tacos.”
“I’ll have faith, and you have fun,” he suggested.
Xavier suited up and turned on the program. “The scenario is a report of shots fired in a shopping center,” he explained. “You ready?”
“Bring it!”
An hour later, on their fourth run-through, Waverly held up her arms in victory. “Yesss! Suck it, bad guys!”
“Said the girl who took two rounds to the head,” he teased.
“That was the first time through. I learn from my mistakes.”
Xavier curled his fingers into the neck of her vest and pulled her to him. The energy of battle still pumped through him, made him hungry for an outlet. “Not all of them,” he reminded her. “And I’m grateful for that.”
She met his mouth eagerly enough that he was cursing himself for pulling back. “It’s late,” he whispered, his lips moving over hers gently.
“And you owe me tacos.”
They made it a mile down the road from Harry’s before Waverly’s wandering hands had him pulling over. “I’m so amped,” she murmured into his mouth when she climbed into his
lap.
“It’s the rush,” he explained on a groan. “There’s only one way to get rid of it.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
They woke edgy and ready before dawn and found Kate had beaten everyone to the kitchen where the scents of fresh coffee and slightly burnt eggs hung in the air.
“You’re up early,” Waverly said, throwing her arm around Kate’s shoulders. Kate sagged into the embrace.
“I’m really nervous,” she confessed.
“You’ll do great.” Waverly gave her friend a reassuring squeeze.
“It’s not me I’m worried about. My part’s easy. Brad wants what you have. He’s not going to just roll over on this without a fight.”
Xavier stepped in and shifted Waverly out of the way. He put both hands on Kate’s tense shoulders. “Kate.”
She nodded, wide-eyed.
“Everyone is going to do their jobs to the best of their abilities today, including me. Do you know what that means?”
Kate shook her head, still staring up at him like a deer in headlights.
“It means no one gets to Waverly. I swear to you, I won’t let her get hurt.”
Kate threw herself into Xavier’s arms and hugged him hard. Xavier eyed Waverly over Kate’s blonde head, unsure of what to do.
Waverly grinned at him from where she leaned against the counter.
“Wow, you even smell good,” Kate murmured against his chest.
“Okay,” Waverly said, stepping in. “Stop mauling Xavier.” Waverly tugged Kate out of his arms but not before hugging her herself. “Everything’s going to work. I promise.”
Kate nodded. “I just wish that I could do more to help.”
“Kate,” Xavier said smoothly. “You’re an integral part of what’s happening today. And timing is essential. So don’t fuck it up.”
It got a snort out of her, and Waverly smacked him on the shoulder.
“I know, and I’ll make sure everything is perfect. I just… worry.”
“Don’t worry. Be ready, be good. And we’ll all be celebrating with a big dinner tonight,” he promised.