by Kaylea Cross
They’d been in stakeout mode for the past three days. The night after the car chase he’d provided overwatch while Megan had gone back in to hide the items she’d found inside. Since the analysts working with them on the case hadn’t been able to turn up anything useful about their suspect yet, their best chance of catching her was if she came back to retrieve the items. If that happened, it was important the items were in their original place to avoid tipping her off that she was being watched.
Megan sniffed and suppressed another sneeze, turning her face into her shoulder. Her gaze snapped over to him when he shifted. “Sorry,” she murmured.
“It’s okay.” He eyed the clock on the nightstand between their two double beds. He’d only been asleep for maybe forty minutes.
He pushed up and sat with his back against the headboard and covered a jaw-cracking yawn. “You sound worse.”
“Nah, I’m fine.” She waved a hand at him. “Go back to sleep. I’ve got some earplugs you can have if you want.”
“Thanks, I’m okay.” He was up now and wouldn’t be able to get back to sleep for a while anyway. And no matter what she said, she was definitely feeling worse. She had shadows under her eyes and she looked pale. They’d both been going on little sleep the past few days between the stakeout, phone meetings with Trinity and Rycroft and surveilling the area.
He glanced at the tablet in her lap. “Still nothing, huh?”
“Nope.” She swallowed, seemed to hide a grimace.
He covered a wince. She was tough, so if her throat was that sore, she had his sympathy. “Maybe you should go take a hot bath or something.”
Those pretty hazel eyes swung to him. “Is that your way of saying I smell?”
He grinned. “No.” She smelled good all the time. Especially her hair. “I just thought it might make you feel a bit better.”
“I’m good, really.”
He ran a hand through his hair and threw the blankets back, swinging his legs over the side of the bed. She’d turned the air conditioning down and it was close to stifling in the room. “Any updates from Trinity?” She’d flown back to London a few days ago to meet with Rycroft and others from the team he’d assembled. They were analyzing all the data compiled so far.
Since then he and Megan had been taking alternating 4-hour surveillance shifts, watching the cameras for any sign of the female suspect. Whoever she was, she was a pro and able to turn into a ghost. There might also be more hitters out there so they were being extra careful to limit their movements. At this point they were still uncertain whether they remained a target.
“No.” She sniffed again. “She’s flying back here tonight with another former Valkyrie. A sniper.”
“Do you know her?”
“No, but she’s friends with Trinity and another Valkyrie named Briar who’s apparently helping us stateside. They were all trained together initially, before they were separated into their specialties.”
The Valkyrie Program sounded both impressive and dark as hell. Every time he learned something about it, his feelings became more mixed. “Who decides what specialty you’re put into?”
“The trainers. They measure us all for different aptitudes from the time we enter the program. They use the scores to divide us into our specialty categories.”
Kind of like a military MOS, but involuntary. “Did you have any say?”
“Sometimes. Depends on the girl. Sometimes you might get a choice of one or two areas. Or they might cross-train you in both. I mean, we’re all cross-trained in various things, so there’s some overlap. But we’re usually given missions relating directly to our specialty.”
It was damn fascinating, if dark and a little scary. “And they decided you’d make a good thief.”
She raised an eyebrow in feigned insult. “A badass thief, thank you very much.” She shrugged. “What can I say, I’m sneaky. And bendy.”
“I knew about the sneaky part. But bendy, huh? That sounds interesting.”
At his loaded tone she grinned, giving him a glimpse of those adorable dimples of hers. “I can’t believe your mind went there when I look like this.” She gestured to herself with a circling motion of her finger and made a face.
Believe it, dimples. He wanted her more than ever. “How’d you learn to drive like that, anyway?”
The look she gave him said she thought that should be obvious. “I’m a thief. That means I need be able to make a quick getaway.”
Ty was pretty sure he could spend years with her and she would never stop surprising him. “Yeah, I guess it does. And you’re also a crack shot with your non-dominant hand.” Even while driving. Damn.
“I’m ambidextrous.”
Of course you are. He paused a moment. “Were you close to any of them? The girls you trained with.”
She frowned, deep in thought. “Not really close. I guess the one I was closest to of anyone was Chloe. We were teenagers by then. She was a demolitions expert.”
“That sounds terrifying.”
Megan chuckled. “You mean awesome.” Her smile faded. “I’ve thought about her over the years. Always wondered what happened to her.”
“When’s the last time you saw each other?”
“When we got our marks.” She patted her left hip. “The day we graduated. We got bandaged up, went out to dinner together to celebrate, and that was that. She was sent on her first mission the next morning. Just…gone.”
Damn, she’d been through a lot. “Maybe we’ll find her still.”
Her smile was a little sad and it twisted his heart. “Maybe.”
He got up, brushed his teeth and splashed some water on his face to help push the cobwebs from his brain. Megan was watching the screen when he came out. “Anything more about the picture?” he asked. Before returning the items they’d sent a scan of the photo off to Rycroft’s team back in the States.
“Nothing yet. It was probably taken thirty-plus years ago, judging by the hairstyles and clothes.” Her eyebrows drew together slightly.
He knew it bothered her that she felt like she recognized the couple but couldn’t place them. The bracelet and blanket were a different matter. Those were highly personal items that their female suspect had wanted to recover enough that she’d risked going back to the target house that night. He hoped they meant enough for her to return a second time, though he was starting to think otherwise.
“You hungry?” he asked Megan.
She looked up from the tablet. “I could eat.”
He pulled out his phone. “What do you feel like?”
“Soup. The good stuff, made from scratch if you can find a place that does that. Or maybe noodles.”
“How about soup with noodles?” He’d get her some meds later as well.
Her grateful smile squeezed his heart. “Perfect.”
He’d been careful not to crowd her since the run-in with their suspect and the dead hitter, but he still wanted her as much as ever. In all his time doing various contracting jobs for the government, he’d never roomed with a female on a mission.
Megan tested his control. Being in close quarters together day after day made it tough to suppress his feelings, especially after the other night.
She impressed the hell out of him, period, and he was more attracted to her than ever. He’d respected her need for space since they’d kissed and hadn’t brought it up again.
Much as he wanted another repeat—and a whole lot more—they were on a job, and now she wasn’t feeling well. But man, he couldn’t wait for this to be done so he could change their relationship from a working one to something far more intimate if she was willing.
“You trust me to pick something for you?” he asked.
“Sure.” She went back to watching the screen.
He pulled up a delivery app on his phone and found an Asian place nearby with scratch-made food and great ratings that took cash on delivery. They were using cash only even though they were using aliases.
He ordered them both
a large ramen bowl. “Food’ll be here in about thirty-five minutes. I’m just gonna go grab a shower.”
She nodded and mumbled an “okay” without looking up. The cameras watching the target house would alert them with a specific alarm on the tablet if anything triggered them.
There were so many things he still didn’t know about her, and wanted to. At least he seemed to have gained her trust for the most part. He’d learned enough about her to know she didn’t give it lightly, so that was pretty major. Hopefully it would help him convince her to lower her guard around him once this mission was done.
He took a shower, changed, and when he came back out into the bedroom she hadn’t moved. “Did you finish your book, by the way?”
“Almost.” She didn’t look up, completely focused on the task at hand.
With nothing else to do and her attention otherwise occupied, he stretched out on the bed and turned on the TV, finding an action movie playing in English. His phone chimed with a message half an hour later. “Food’s almost here.”
She grunted.
The urge to take the tablet away was almost overpowering. He shook his head at himself. Man, he had it bad if he was thinking about getting her to pay attention to him.
He tracked the courier via the GPS on the app. When the knock came at the door he jumped up, surprised when Megan put down the tablet and followed. “My treat,” he told her.
“Okay.” She followed him to the door anyway, brushing his hip slightly as she passed by, filling his nose with her clean, soapy scent.
He checked the peephole and reached an arm out to herd Megan behind him. She snorted but stayed where he put her as he opened the door. He greeted the delivery guy and reached for his wallet to pay the guy.
It was gone.
What the… He stopped, checked his other pocket, then patted his hips and thighs to check the others.
A hand reached past his shoulder, holding some Euros. “No, I’ll get it,” he argued, turning his head to look at her.
“I know.” Megan smirked at him and held up his wallet in her other hand.
He had to grin. “How did you—” He shut his mouth, impressed and intrigued all over again. First the keys to the car the other night, and now this.
Man, she was slick. He kept his wallet in the front hip pocket of his cargo pants. She must have taken it when she’d brushed up against him, but it had been so fast and he hadn’t felt a thing.
She paid the delivery guy, gave him a generous tip, then took the bag and shut the door. She raised her eyebrows at Ty while she locked the door. “You were saying?”
He shook his head. “One day I want you to show me how you do stuff like that.”
“Maybe one day,” she agreed, and sat back in her chair to dig into the bag. “Here,” she said, absently handing him his bowl.
They ate together while he watched the movie and she watched the tablet. She might only be two hours into her shift, but she needed rest.
“Oh, that hit the spot,” she groaned, setting her bowl on the table beside her.
“I’m glad. Can I have my wallet back now?”
“Oh. Sure.” She handed it over.
“Do I need to check the contents?” he asked.
Her chuckle brushed over his skin like a caress. “You can if you want.”
“No, I trust you. Mostly. Now go have a hot bath.” He nodded at the tablet. “I’ll take over for a bit.”
She opened her mouth to argue, no doubt that she had to stay at her post. That she couldn’t take a break.
He grunted and held up a hand. “Don’t argue. I won’t listen.”
Still she hesitated, and he could almost feel the guilt piling up inside her. “Are you sure?” she hedged.
“I’m sure.” He considered it a small victory when she disappeared into the bathroom and ran the water.
She came out fifteen minutes later in a cloud of scented steam, fully dressed and her hair pulled up into a messy bun. She looked sexy and adorable at the same time. And exhausted. “I needed that, thank you.”
“Sure.” He jerked his chin at her bed. “Get some sleep.”
“What? No, I—”
“This isn’t a discussion. Go to sleep.”
She put a hand on her hip and huffed at him. “It’s my turn to be on watch, and I already woke you up from your nap.”
He was tired, but not as tired as she was. “Get some sleep, Megan. We need you better in case our suspect shows up again.”
Again, she hesitated, staring at him for a few moments in indecision.
“Come on, dimples. Don’t fight me on this.”
At the nickname something ignited in her eyes. She visibly bristled, maybe because the mention took her back to when he’d first called her that in SERE school.
Something funny, dimples? This is life and death we’re talking about. God, he’d been clueless, thinking how helpless she was out there exposed to the raw elements of nature.
But then she relaxed, her expression softening. Her gaze darted to the bed and back to him. “Well, if you’re sure…”
“Sleep,” he told her.
She grumbled something under her breath about not needing to be babied, but did as she was told, sliding between the covers. Lucky sheets didn’t know how good they had it, being wrapped around her.
Ty picked up the tablet and set it in his lap, dividing his attention between the tablet and the woman curled up in the other bed that was winding around his heart harder every day. There was a softness to her in sleep that wasn’t there when she was awake. Awake she seemed to be in constant motion, a ball of suppressed energy, except when she was reading or focused on another task.
When he was sure she was fast asleep, he put the tablet down and stood, ready to run out and find a store nearby to get her some medicine. On impulse he reached over and snuck her e-reader from the nightstand. He switched it on, looked at the book she was reading and stared at it in disbelief.
A romance?
He flipped through the next twenty pages to be sure, skimming the text. An action-based romance, and a steamy one at that, when he’d expected maybe a thriller or military history book.
He set it back to the page she’d stopped reading at and placed the device on the nightstand, then looked over at Megan’s sleeping form with a sense of amazement. She never stopped surprising him. She had layers he hadn’t even begun to discover yet.
A badass assassin/thief with a romantic heart hidden under all that attitude and armor.
Yeah, he was in serious trouble where she was concerned.
****
Oh, God, it felt like someone had beaten her all over with a hammer.
Megan ached everywhere, even the roots of her hair. Still, she’d die before complaining aloud. She was a freaking Valkyrie. Valkyries didn’t bitch or make a big deal out of having the flu. Or whatever hellish germ this thing attacking her was.
Tyler had been incredibly wonderful for the past two days, taking longer shifts and going without sleep much longer than he should have to in order to let her rest and try and fight off this bug. Even with the meds she’d swallowed, it refused to die. Evil bastard.
“Hey, you’re awake,” he murmured.
She blinked, squinted as his fuzzy image appeared above her next to the bed. “Yeah,” she whispered, her throat and face on fire. She’d been dreaming about Chloe. Chloe had been on her mind a lot since she’d told Tyler about her yesterday.
In the dream she and Chloe had been lying in their bunks in their room at the training facility, laughing at something. It made her think about the time Chloe had brought her soup and a can of ginger ale when Megan had come down with food poisoning one night. Her friend had even placed a bucket beside her bed.
God, Megan hoped she was still alive and that they’d be able to see each other again.
Her thoughts scattered when Tyler reached out to lay his palm to her forehead, then cupped her cheek. His touch was so cool and comforting, she couldn’t
help but lean into it with a groan. “Yeah, you’re still burning up. Time for more meds.”
“Don’t want them,” she grumbled.
“Too bad.” He shook two out of the bottle on the nightstand, the one he’d run down to the nearest store to buy for her along with a dozen other things to make her feel better. The nightstand looked like a little pharmacy. “Here.” He handed her two pills, then held out a to-go cup. “Careful, it’s hot.”
She pushed upright to accept it. “What is it?”
“Green tea with honey and lemon. My mom used to give it to us when we got sick. The honey’ll help your throat and cough.”
Tea with honey…
“I put honey in it,” a woman’s voice said in the background. “It’ll make your throat feel better.”
Megan was young, sitting on a brown floral couch in front of a TV playing cartoons. It was the middle of the day but she was in her robe. Sick with something. And she was holding a mug of tea in her hands with a picture of Big Bird on it.
She blinked and the memory evaporated. Who had that voice belonged to? Her mother?
Dammit, why couldn’t she even remember what her own mother had looked like? It was like that damn picture she’d found. No matter how much she thought about the image, nothing sparked in her memory, and she was sure it had some kind of clue that connected her and their suspect.
It was beyond frustrating. How much of her memory loss was normal because she’d been so young when her parents died, and how much of it was due to the Valkyrie Program and her training?
“You okay?”
Startled, she looked up into Tyler’s face, unprepared for the way her heart squeezed. He was damn good-looking. And the way he’d been taking care of her melted her stupid romantic heart. “Yeah, fine. Thanks for all this.” She hadn’t been this sick in years and having him with her was comforting. That was a strange and scary realization.
She hadn’t had anyone take care of her like this since she was a kid. Maybe it wasn’t necessary and it made her feel silly, but she couldn’t deny that she liked it. A lot.
