by Maya Banks
“This is Shadow,” Beau said, indicating a man about Zeke’s height, maybe an inch shorter. He had a quiet look about him and his features were solemn, giving nothing away. He had tats spiraling up both arms and she wondered whether he had tats in other places as well.
His hair was shortly cropped, military style, though a bit longer than regulation. Spiked on top, the color of chestnut. His eyes were green, lighter than Zack’s, but he had a piercing gaze that pinned each of the DSS operatives as his attention moved to each in turn. When he got to Eliza, he stared what she thought was a longer time than he’d spent studying the others, but then she was paranoid. It wasn’t as if he knew anything about her or rather only what Dane or Beau might have said and neither were indiscreet so their conversations had likely been confined to her skills and capabilities when it came to the job and she knew Dane had her back and would have made it clear she could handle herself.
But still, she wouldn’t want to be a bad guy on the receiving end of that stare pinning them solidly in place. One that would likely have Shadow’s prey tripping over themselves to spill whatever it was Shadow wanted to know.
He sported a tan but was obviously Caucasian, and like the others, he obviously had a strict workout regimen because there was nothing to indicate he was anything but in top form and shape. What was it Beau had said his name was? Shadow?
For some unknown reason she found herself opening her mouth before she thought better of it.
“Your name is Shadow?” she asked, lips pursed, one eyebrow lifted in question.
Then he grinned and it was one of those lazy, I-don’t-give-a-fuck smiles that plainly said he wasn’t used to explaining himself, but his eyes filled with amusement and Eliza sucked in her breath, because damn, her girly parts weren’t just perked up and paying attention. They were fluttering wildly and screaming at her about her neglect of them.
“Forget I asked,” Eliza muttered.
“You have me at a disadvantage, darlin’,” he drawled. “You know my name but I haven’t been introduced to you.”
Her eyes narrowed because it was also obvious he was fucking with her. As if Dane wouldn’t have gone over all the names of the DSS operatives and he most certainly would have given him her name and since she was the only female working at DSS aside from the receptionist, he knew damn well what her name was.
She let her displeasure show and bared her teeth, which served two purposes. One because she was genuinely annoyed but two, it would further allay Dane’s worry since this was typical Eliza-like behavior and if she hadn’t reacted this way he would have known she didn’t have her shit together.
“Since you’ve been hired, you’ve been briefed, which means you know who everyone in this room is. So my suggestion is to not play fucking games, which are not only a waste of my time but of everyone else’s too.”
Shadow’s grin became broader, flashing a row of perfectly straight, perfectly white teeth and his eyes twinkled with ill-concealed amusement.
“Didn’t say I didn’t know your name. Said I hadn’t been introduced to you. Call me old-fashioned but when it comes to the people I work with, people it’s my job to protect and have their back and people I trust to watch mine, I’d rather the introduction be a little more personal.”
Damn. In a fucked-up way, he sort of made sense. Not dropping her glare, she relented.
“Eliza,” she said shortly. “Not that you didn’t know,” she muttered under her breath.
Beside her, Dane shook silently, meaning he’d heard the last part.
“Shadow,” he returned politely. “But unless I missed my guess, seeing as how you were told my name, you weren’t asking if Shadow was my name but rather if it was my real name and if not you wanna know how I came to be called it.”
Eliza gave a clipped nod because she so didn’t have time for this even if she had enjoyed the show. Hello? Four mouthwateringly gorgeous hunks in the same room? Too bad she’d never have a chance to work with them, get to know them, decide how compatible they were as a team and if she could ever count on them or trust them in the way she did the men she already worked with.
“It’s because that’s what I am,” Shadow said in a serious tone, all amusement gone, replaced by a hardness you earned by doing bad shit, dangerous shit, and seeing bad shit that most people didn’t even realize existed. “It was either Ghost or Shadow and seein’ as how I didn’t get a choice in having a nickname, I put a stop to Ghost for obvious reasons because I don’t have any desire to die anytime soon, and I went with Shadow.”
Eliza continued to meet his gaze steadily, though she’d relaxed because something told her this guy was solid and again, had seen and experienced shit, and he carried more baggage and had more demons than most.
“If I don’t want you to know I’m around, you won’t,” he said matter-of-factly. There was no arrogance. He wasn’t bragging or boasting. He was just stating the truth and she believed him. “My specialty is getting into places most people can’t, collecting intel or retrieving something that needs retrieving and then disappearing with no one ever knowin’ I was there.”
“We could use that,” Eliza murmured.
Shadow grinned again. “Yeah, seein’ as I’m here, guess you do.”
Beau cleared his throat and went on to the last man. “This is Knight.”
Eliza’s gaze left Shadow and settled on the last man Beau had introduced. Her first thought was that his was likely not a nickname or at least not in the sense he was considered a knight in shining armor, because there was nothing about him that resembled a romance novel hero or even a hero period.
His features were stony, giving nothing away. He was the shortest one of the group, but considering the others well exceeded six feet, Knight was likely about an inch over that. His hair was long, as in it obviously hadn’t been cut in years and it was a look he’d cultivated a very long time. He had it pulled back and secured with a leather tie.
Dark but not as dark as Zeke’s midnight hair, but darker than the chestnut brown of Shadow’s short hair. He had eyes to match, so dark it was hard to distinguish his pupils from the irises. It gave him a menacing air, which wasn’t aided by the couldn’t-crack-a-stone-on-his-face set to his features. She wondered if he ever smiled but then decided probably not since it might well fracture the rest of his face.
He barely acknowledged the people he was being introduced to. His gaze quickly passed over each in turn before returning his attention to Beau.
Eliza wondered what his specialty was, but then other than Shadow, none of the others had been forthcoming in what it was they did, but DSS needed men who could handle themselves in any situation and be prepared and trained for anything. From all appearances Dane had chosen well.
It was Dane’s job to vet, interview and see what all prospective new hires were made of. He was good at it. The Devereauxs never questioned his choices. If they passed muster with Dane, they were hired. Period.
“Now that introductions are over, if everyone will sit back, we have a few other things to go over before we adjourn,” Beau said.
There were a few unsuppressed groans and likely twice as many suppressed groans because the hope had been the introduction of the new operatives would end the boring-as-fuck meeting.
For once, Eliza was grateful it wasn’t over just yet. She needed a few more precious minutes to prepare herself to face her partner, a man she considered her closest friend and her only confidant. And then lie through her teeth to him.
SIX
DANE bit his tongue and stifled his impatience. He was every bit as eager to get bullshit over with as everyone else was. Yeah, he got that his new recruits needed to be introduced and integrated into the fold, but now was not the time when everyone was bored as fuck, impatient and ready to blow this joint. The others hadn’t exactly rolled out the welcome mat for Dex, Zeke, Shadow and Knight. Not that the men would give a fuck. But still, mentally he arranged a better time to meet up with the newest operativ
es so everyone could receive their assignments and who each of the new guys would be assigned to during training he didn’t expect to last more than a few weeks at most.
He’d hired guys who were smart, knew their shit, didn’t have egos and had what it took to get the job done. He hadn’t hired men who needed hand-holding and an A to Z instructional manual. He needed men who could learn under fire, adapt and overcome any obstacle. And he’d chosen well. They’d all passed a series of very rigorous, intense tests, not only determining their physical skills but also their intelligence. Their ability to make split-second decisions, the ability to think quick on their feet, and how they reacted to the unexpected. He’d been impressed, and he wasn’t a man who was easily impressed. He had no doubt the men he’d hired would fit in seamlessly into DSS with no dick sizing or pissing matches, because just as he hadn’t hired men with egos and something to prove, neither did anyone currently working with him suffer any such issue. All of the men—and Eliza—were confident without being too confident and had no problem calling in backup when they knew they were in over their heads or were outmatched or outnumbered.
They needed the extra muscle and manpower but that wasn’t all they needed. They needed men who were not new to the game, and it was obvious after reading the extensive background checks he’d performed that the new recruits were anything but rookies. They had more than proven themselves capable in all situations Dane had thrown at them. He hadn’t been easy. He’d been brutal, pushing them to their very limits, putting them through countless scenarios, many of which he hoped to fuck they never encountered with DSS, but he couldn’t afford to assume anything. Not with all the shit that had gone down over the last year. And he’d made it abundantly clear to the new guys, that while, yes, they worked for DSS and they would be taking missions that DSS took on, their first and most important priority was keeping the women DSS claimed as their own safe. At all costs.
He was really fucking tired of their women—Tori, Ramie, Ari, Gracie and yes, even Eliza, though she’d have his balls for including her—being targeted, threatened, at risk and being fucking tormented and brutalized by goddamn animals. Every single woman had suffered. Each of them bore the scars, some you could see and some you couldn’t but existed nonetheless, and yet they came out alive, not unscathed, but alive and they were all fierce. Not many women could survive what their women had survived with their sanity intact, and not only survive but kick ass while carrying on. He admired and respected every single one, but Eliza most of all.
And right now, she had more of his attention and focus than the other four women. Ramie, Ari and Gracie each had a husband who was more than capable of protecting them, helping them work through their demons and soothe the nightmares they endured. Tori had not only her three older brothers but every single member of DSS who’d die before ever allowing her to fall into the hands of a brutal monster again. She was so much more fragile than the other women, but then she had reason to be. Yes, they’d all suffered, but Tori the most of all.
Eliza had no one except the people she worked with. But every night she went home alone to deal with her demons in private. God knows he’d pushed as hard as possible without pushing her away to confide in him, to let him help her, but he’d hit a fucking brick wall, as had anyone else who’d attempted to get Eliza to talk about the hell she’d endured. At the mere suggestion she might need someone, she’d take your goddamn head off, not to mention your balls. But that didn’t mean he didn’t worry. He worried every fucking day, and instead of that concern diminishing over time, it only got worse when she showed no sign of ever allowing anyone inside her carefully constructed barriers.
She was more than someone he worked with. More than someone who reported to him. She was his. All the DSS operatives were his, but Eliza more so. He worked more closely with her than anyone else. She was his partner. His equal. He counted on her judgment, her gut. He sought her out on more than one occasion to bounce ideas off her, to get her opinions, because not only was she solid, she was smart as hell, with a mind like a computer. She called it like she saw it, never held back when he asked her opinion or what her gut was screaming. And in addition to being smart and thinking fast and well on her feet, she was tough and could kick ass as well as the rest of his operatives and better than most.
Her advantage was in being underestimated, a mistake someone made only once before learning they’d been a stupid fuck not to take a small but fierce-as-fuck pretty blonde as anything more than a blonde airhead with nothing between her ears. Dane would never admit it, but he thoroughly enjoyed watching what happened when someone overlooked Eliza or disrespected her. Or worse, didn’t consider her the threat she was.
He watched as Caleb got wound up again, talking and saying shit that he said every goddamn meeting, shit that as Eliza had so eloquently put, they could recite in their sleep. He had to stifle a smile over the “state of the union” because the name had been coined by Eliza, ever the irreverent one of the bunch, and, well, he had to agree. It was a pointless meeting that in no way required every man to be pulled from their jobs to assemble in the DSS offices to give report and status on past, current and potential jobs that DSS may or may not take.
But Caleb was an anal bastard, and even if he’d for the most part turned the day-to-day running of DSS to his younger brother, Beau, he still kept his finger solidly on the pulse of everything going on. Every mission, every request for help.
Dane glanced sideways at Zack Covington, who made no attempt to disguise his scowl, or the fact he’d checked his watch every three minutes for the last twenty and Dane had to look at Eliza or risk bursting into laughter that would likely have the rest of DSS thinking he’d lost his mind.
He didn’t have a sense of humor. Or at least to the rest of their knowledge. Eliza knew, but Dane was closer to Lizzie than to the others. She made him feel at ease, comfortable. She didn’t have a chip on her shoulder because she was a woman in a predominately male profession and she didn’t get involved in pissing matches. He knew she looked to him as her team leader, though Caleb and Beau ran the operation. But then no one argued with Dane. Ever. Not even Caleb, and he could be one cold, ruthless, mean-as-a-rattlesnake son of a bitch. Especially when it came to his wife, Ramie, and her protection. With good reason. Her psychic abilities made her extremely vulnerable and they also made her a target for everyone who had a missing or kidnapped loved one. Ramie had eerily accurate abilities to track and find victims by connecting to them—and the killer. It was a sickness that pervaded her soul, made her feel foul and unclean and every time she did it, it took another piece of her with it and Caleb was determined there would be no more.
Dane didn’t blame him a bit. Although he was damn glad Ramie had defied Caleb and helped locate Eliza when she’d gone missing. Hell, Ari and Gracie had said to hell with them all, determined to give back to a woman who’d risked her life time and time again for them. Without them, Lizzie would be dead.
His fists curled into tight balls and he had to control the betraying quiver of his nostrils at the thought of just how close they’d come to losing someone so important to DSS. To him.
He nearly missed Eliza’s stifled grin or her shared commiseration, even turning to include Zack, which meant she too had been aware of his impending departure whether the meeting was declared officially over or not.
Zack sent a look in Dane’s direction. Though it was more of a scowl, Dane could see it for what it really was. A plea. Because once Dane declared a meeting over, it just was. It didn’t matter if the Devereauxs had more to add. Everyone deferred to Dane. And as Zack had only just returned from his honeymoon with Gracie, he must be itching with impatience to get back to her.
Dane allowed a small smile, all he would give away on his otherwise deadpan poker face, but Zack got the message and closed his eyes, mouthing, “Thank you God” behind the backs of the others.
But Eliza, damn her hide, who’d been clued in from the very start of the exchange, sudd
enly suffered a coughing fit, covering her laughter, so it sounded more like a cat trying to hack up a fur ball and cupped a hand over her mouth, pretending she had indeed gotten something caught in her throat.
His glare promised retribution, but she stuck out her tongue at him and the deep intuitive alarm inside him he hadn’t even realized was screaming relaxed and settled. And his internal alarm was rarely wrong, and it had alternated screaming alarm and false alarm all fucking morning when it came to Eliza. Zack too had uncanny knacks or hunches as his teammates grumbled. They swore his gut had made a deal with the devil because it had gained so much respect that if he so much as muttered that his gut said something was off, the mission was immediately halted.
Dane had been convinced something was wrong and it had everything to do with Eliza. But in that one moment of irreverence—as if he expected anything less from her—she set his world to rights and he got to the matter at hand. Damn it, but his hands were shaking! He hadn’t realized just how fucking terrified he’d been over Eliza’s weird behavior earlier. He had the odd sensation of her thinning in front of him, like a ghost or apparition, going from solid form to insubstantial light and shadow, slipping away from him like sand in a breeze. DSS would never be the same without Eliza and he had a lot of people to thank for the fact she was alive, healthy and still very much part of DSS.
But it was Wade Sterling he was most grateful to—twice—for his help in ensuring Eliza was rescued and safe. He’d taken a bullet for her that would have killed her in seconds. She didn’t know that. How close she came to death or the fact that if Wade hadn’t stepped in front of her she would have died. Or maybe she did and refused to acknowledge the other man in any way. There was some serious antagonism between Eliza and Wade and Dane knew it was because Wade was still firmly stuck in the Middle Ages.
“Okay, we’ve been repeating ourselves for the last fifteen minutes,” Dane said, interjecting himself for the first time. Zack was tired of waiting for Dane’s intervention and was about two seconds from walking out. And despite his earlier moment of relief, his gut still nagged him that all wasn’t right with Eliza. He wanted this shit done now so he and Eliza could talk about what the fuck was on her mind—and had been on her mind for the last week.
Caleb looked slightly annoyed but Beau flashed him a grateful look as did the other operatives gathered—Isaac, Capshaw, Eric and Brent. The new recruits hadn’t endured the meeting in its entirety so they weren’t being obvious with their gratitude.
“Everyone has a job to do,” Dane continued. “Though one of us is still on his honeymoon and I doubt he appreciated being dragged out of a warm bed next to an equally warm but much softer woman just to hear us spout the same shit we spout every month in these state of the union addresses.” He directed his gaze toward Beau and Zack, which would likely annoy Caleb, but Caleb had backed off while Beau and Zack were very much on top of things. “You two take the new recruits, show them the ropes, put each with a team and go over our current caseload, divide them up and get to work.”
The initial laughter over the first of Dane’s remarks died and a more serious mood quickly replaced the amusement. Dane turned and sent Eliza a mocking smile and silently told her he never got mad. He got even. And then he proceeded to throw her under the bus. Precisely what she would do given the opportunity.
“You can thank Lizzie for the name she’s dubbed our monthly meetings,” Dane said in a smug tone that surprised some, while others snickered—those who understood Dane better and were privy to the unique relationship he and Eliza shared.
“I’m sure she meant it with the utmost respect, though,” Dane said in a solemn voice that would have worked were it not for the sarcasm dripping like syrup from his lips.
Normally Eliza would be fuming and already plotting her revenge on Dane. Some days it was the only entertainment she enjoyed. Instead she found herself walking toward Dane’s office with leaden feet, her heart heavy because she knew how much she’d miss this. The camaraderie. The ease in which they operated together. Like one mind, a well-oiled machine where everyone was so familiar with their co-operatives that they could predict their next movement before it was made.
She purposely quickened her step, shaking off the feeling of dread and hastily pulled herself together or Dane would know something was wrong. She already knew he was suspicious because while others would have seen nothing but him paying strict attention to the meeting, she’d caught the glances he’d thrown her way. Looks infused with worry and concern.
She entered his office and plopped into the chair in front of his desk, purposely sprawling in a casual pose as if this were just another conversation, like the many others they’d had in the past.
When she heard him enter his office and quietly shut the door behind him, she turned, a smile on her face, her eyes glinting with promise of retribution. That more than anything would allay any concerns he may have because Eliza was nothing if not cunning and ruthless when plotting her revenge.
But Dane didn’t return her smile. Shit. Instead he regarded her with that steady gaze that missed nothing. She had the mortifying thought that she needed to cover herself because he had a way of seeing past a front—anyone’s front—and making them feel naked and vulnerable with those all-knowing eyes.
“Don’t think I won’t get even for that, you traitor,” she accused, injecting a note of laughter and amusement she definitely didn’t feel into her voice.
Still, he didn’t smile or even acknowledge her threat with a drawled one of his own. Oh yeah, she was in trouble, and this was going to take the act of her life to convince him that what she was requesting was nothing out of the ordinary. Even if it made her appear vulnerable in front of him, something she’d die before ever allowing any of the men she worked with to see. The hell of it was, appearing vulnerable wouldn’t require any acting whatsoever. She was vulnerable. And it was the worst, goddamn weakest feeling in the world.
He slid into the chair behind his desk and leaned back, still studying her, his stare probing intently like he could see every single secret she was trying so desperately to hide.
“What’s going on, Lizzie?” he asked quietly.
She sighed and threw up her hands. “Only you would make me feel guilty for requesting vacation time.”
His eyes widened in surprise and if it weren’t for the pain slicing through the region of her heart, she would have taken great satisfaction in throwing him off his game for those few seconds.
“Vacation?” he asked incredulously. “That’s what this is all about? For fuck’s sake, Lizzie. You scared the shit out of me. You haven’t been yourself lately and then this morning. You checked out. I doubt you even remember a goddamn thing that was said during that meeting.”
She rolled her eyes. “You mean the same thing said in every single one of those pointless meetings where we’re all reminded of the job we do—jobs we’re damn good at by the way. Dane, I know them by heart. Pardon me for already mentally planning a few weeks on a beach somewhere soaking up as much sun and sand as possible, maybe hooking up with a single hunk and blowing off some steam.”
Dane scowled and Eliza rolled her eyes. “Cut the big brother act, Dane. I don’t lecture you when you’re out fucking women. So far your only redeeming quality is that you don’t have a double standard when it comes to men and women. Don’t ruin it for me now.”
Dane sighed. “You know I have no problem with you taking vacation, Lizzie. God knows I’ve been after you to take some time off for years. But why now? What’s going on with you? And swear to God, if you tell me nothing, I’ll handcuff you to the bed in the guestroom of my house and then I’ll sic Ramie, Ari and Gracie on you. Especially Gracie since she’ll know exactly what that devious mind of yours is plotting.”
It didn’t take as much effort as Eliza had thought to allow her aching vulnerability to show. The pain of the last weeks and that of the weeks to come. Dane must have seen the shadows of remembrance in her eyes because
he suddenly cursed and rubbed a hand over his face.
“Christ I’m an asshole. You’re still having a hard time aren’t you, Lizzie?” he asked softly.
She shrugged. And then sighed, allowing the truth to blend with the untruths, or rather the truths of the past, things that even Dane and his ability to find information on anyone no matter how deeply hidden wouldn’t have uncovered.
“I’m tired, Dane,” she said quietly. “I can’t sleep at night. And when I do, I relive every terror-filled moment of what they did. Of what I feared they would do to you. To Ramie, Ari and Gracie. The rest of my team. My family,” she said, grief heavily laced in her voice.
But she’d be damned if she let him see her cry. No one would ever see her cry again. She wasn’t that weak, helpless, idealistic sixteen-year-old girl who believed in fairy tales, princes and happily ever afters.
To her shock, Dane was on his feet and around the desk before she could take