Apocalypse Assassins: The Complete Series

by D. Laine

  “I don’t remember.”

  “The theory was that you were lured away, because I never sensed something was wrong. You weren’t scared or . . .” Jake shook his head at the floor. “Either that or I was too self-absorbed to notice.”

  I took in his defeated posture with a torn heart. “We were only five years old, Jake. You can’t blame yourself for that. Besides, I was treated well. If that helps. They never hurt me. They treated me like their own. I thought I was theirs. I had no recollection of you or our parents.”

  “How is that possible? I have memories from that age, and I certainly never forgot you.”

  “Therapy,” I muttered under my breath.

  “What?”

  “Not important now,” I spoke louder. But I couldn’t help but wonder about the motives of the people who had taken me. Why had they done it? Why had they exhausted so much money and resources into making me forget my family?

  “Right.” Jake nodded determinedly. “Because we found you. We got you back.”

  “What were they like? Our parents?” I asked. “Are they still in Tennessee?”

  Will I ever meet them? Did I want to meet them?

  Unfortunately, I learned that wouldn’t be possible even if I wanted to.

  “No, they died six years ago,” Jake answered softly. “It was a car accident in—”

  The sound of the other adjoining door banging open cut off the rest of Jake’s answer. We both shifted to peer over the back of the sofa as Dylan sauntered into Jake’s suite wearing nothing but a cozy looking pair of gray sweatpants.

  He sleepily rubbed his freshly buzzed head as he wandered toward the kitchenette, seemingly unaware that I was there. My eyes followed him greedily, soaking in the blithe movement of his shoulder and back muscles as he passed.

  I stared with a little more interest than I cared to admit as he stood at the counter to fix a cup of coffee. He absentmindedly rubbed a hand across his pecs as he yawned, and I squirmed in my seat as I recalled their firmness with vivid detail.

  Finally finished, Dylan glanced up to find Jake and me watching him. His eyes darted between us. “I’m interrupting something, aren’t I?”

  “Little bit.” Jake shrugged.

  Dylan’s gaze settled on me. Though brief, I glimpsed the flash of disappointment that crossed his face. “I guess I’ll just . . .” He pointed a finger in the direction of his suite.

  I kept my eyes trained on the cup of coffee in my hands when he passed this time. Long after I heard the soft click of the door closing, I still couldn’t look up. I felt Jake’s eyes on me, and I didn’t want him to see the conflict I knew he would see in them.

  “You know he’s not a bad guy,” Jake finally said. “Despite his best attempts at being an asshole, he’s a good friend. A great partner. He does his fair share of stupid shit, but he’s never let me down.”

  “Duly noted.”

  We shared timid smiles before Jake added, “I’m not exactly thrilled about the idea of you two—”

  “Jake, you don’t—”

  “No, wait. Let me say this.” He held a hand out to me. “I hated it—at first—when I realized you were the girl he had been . . . spending time with. But I grew to be grateful, because he was the one who found you. He was the one who wouldn’t leave you behind. I know you’re angry with him right now—as you have every right to be—but I want you to know that he meant well.”

  “By lying to me about possibly being a monster?” I scoffed.

  “He didn’t want to scare you if it ended up being nothing to worry about,” Jake explained softly. “Honestly, I’ve never seen him this torn up over a girl before, so I know he cares about you. Just like I know you care about him—whether you want to admit it or not.”

  When I glanced at Jake, he shrugged. “It’s the twin thing. You can’t hide too much from me.”

  “Why is it only one-sided?”

  “Because you haven’t opened yourself to the possibility of it yet,” Jake answered. “I can only sense your emotions when they’re at an extreme level, because it’s harder for you to contain. The rest of the time, you have a wall up keeping me out.”

  I nodded thoughtfully, and my lips pursed on the words I wanted to ask, but the idea of learning how to break that wall down still scared me. The thought of having a guy I barely knew rifling through my emotions felt far too intimate for where Jake and I were in our relationship.

  This morning had helped—significantly—but I still barely knew him.

  I finished off the rest of my drink before setting the cup down. “Thanks for the coffee. We should . . . do it again. Maybe. If that’s okay?”

  Jake nodded eagerly before flashing me a smile. “How’s tomorrow?”

  “Sounds good.” I grabbed my stack of uniforms and started toward the door. “When does Agent Spence want to see us?”

  Jake glanced at his watch. “In an hour.”

  That left me plenty of time to take a shower.

  “I’ll be ready,” I informed Jake.

  “You know Dylan will be coming with us?”

  I smiled despite the nervous flutter in my stomach, and repeated, “I’ll be ready.”

  10

  DYLAN

  “Forget you’re her brother for one minute,” I suggested, “and just be my friend.”

  “Dylan,” Jake chided as he ushered me into the hallway. “Knock it off.”

  “Just tell me if she said anything about me,” I pleaded. “Come on, man. I’m drowning here. Help me out.”

  “I’m not—” He stopped with his hand on the doorknob and turned to sweep a calculating gaze over me.

  “She said something to you, didn’t she?” I stood a little taller.

  Jake glanced at Thea’s closed door, then stepped back into his suite with a nod of his head. “Get in here.”

  I was equal parts excited and nervous when I followed him inside. Until I saw the serious look in his eyes. Then I felt nothing but anxiety.

  “Why do you care?” he asked me abruptly.

  “Care about what? Her?” I scoffed. “I didn’t think that was a bad thing, Jake.”

  “It’s not—” His head shook frantically. “I just don’t understand. No offense, man, but you’re hanging around like a neglected dog waiting for some scraps from the kitchen table.”

  “Wow. Thanks for that,” I muttered.

  “Why haven’t you given up already?” he asked. “There are plenty of girls in the agency who would hook up with you. It’s not like you don’t have other options.”

  “You’re right.” None of them were as alluring to me as Thea, but I certainly had options.

  “They sure as hell wouldn’t put up a fight. Not like Thea is,” Jake added. “It would be a lot easier to just forget about her.”

  “Is this your way of suggesting I do that?”

  “No. I told you, I’m not going to interfere,” he reminded me. “I’m just curious as to what your endgame is here.”

  “Why do I have to have an endgame?” I countered. “Can’t I just enjoy her company?”

  Jake’s brow lifted. “You have been pestering me to share my sense about her feelings toward you simply because you enjoy her company?”

  “Well, when you put it like that, it sounds—”

  “Like a line of bullshit,” Jake finished for me. “What’s the deal?”

  “I don’t know, Jake,” I whisper-yelled. “If I knew, I would tell you.”

  His lips puckered in thought. “She’s certainly the only girl who’s ever gotten under your skin like this.”

  “That’s the damn truth,” I muttered.

  “Must really suck for you.”

  “You know—wait a minute.” I narrowed my eyes at him. “Are you implying that I’m only interested in Thea because she presents a challenge?”

  Jake shrugged. “If that’s not why, then what else could it be?”

  Fuck. He’d backed me into a goddamn corner, and I hadn’t even seen it comin
g.

  “Come on, Dylan,” he prodded when he realized I had no intention of answering. “What is it about her?”

  I shrugged to downplay the significance of the words about to come out of my mouth. “I like her, alright?”

  He nodded like my admission didn’t surprise him—and that should have worried me. But it didn’t. Not where Thea was concerned.

  I was so fucking screwed.

  “You were willing to die for her at one point,” Jake reminded me. “I figured out how you felt about her before you did, just from your actions, and I think you more than like her.”

  To a playboy like myself, his words were confusing at first. When I got what he was implying, I nearly choked on my own tongue. A lot of sounds came out of my mouth, but none of them were actual words.

  Jake’s hand came down on my shoulder to quiet me. “Easy, Dylan. It’s not going to kill you. And when you’re ready to admit it, that is when you will deserve to hear how my sister feels about you. But it’s going to be her you will hear it from. Not me.”

  He left the room, leaving me anchored to the floor by his parting words. A bead of sweat trickled down my back as he knocked on Thea’s door. I heard her soft greeting, and envisioned a half smile on her lips.

  The mere sound of her voice tickled my insides. The thought of her waiting for me in the hallway made me dizzy. I reacted to her presence in unfamiliar and confusing ways, but I didn’t—

  No.

  Surely, Jake didn’t really think that I—

  No way.

  “Dylan, we have to go,” he called. Like he didn’t care that I was freaking out right now.

  I took a deep breath to collect my bearings and stepped into the hallway, pulling his door shut behind me.

  I barely looked at Thea. One, because I was bewildered as fuck right now and seeing her didn’t help. Two, she looked hot as hell in her assassin’s uniform and I wasn’t about to get caught eye-fucking her by Jake thirty seconds after he implied that I—

  He had to be wrong, because I couldn’t even think the word without breaking into a sweat.

  Jake must have realized the ruffled state he had put me in, because he did all the talking. We stopped briefly on the fifth level, where he pointed out the locations of the mess hall and training facilities—the two places she would likely spend most of her time.

  “I’ve already been here,” Thea announced when Jake started to swing open the door to the training room.

  He darted a look at me. “Really?”

  “Yesterday,” she explained with a shrug. “They wanted to see what I could do.”

  “Huh. Okay. That—that’s probably normal.” Jake worried his lip on his way to the stairwell.

  I slipped in behind him at the door. “They’re not going to throw her in the mix without training,” I reassured him. Despite my words, I couldn’t help but feel a little apprehensive as we approached the command floor.

  Yesterday had been a bust. Jake and I had been sent on a boring perimeter check, and didn’t get to talk to Spence as planned. I suspected that was why he had called us in this morning, and that things were about to get real. But what was his reasoning for inviting Thea along?

  I was coiled tight by the time we pushed through the set of double doors to the command center. Designed specifically for the ease of monitoring and controlling active missions in the field, the grand room reminded me of the bridge of the Starship Enterprise. Control panels lined the walls, and were manned by the dozen or so command agents who filled the room. A large screen covered most of the wall at the front of the room, and was the focus of everyone’s attention at the moment.

  Other than the agent who escorted us, no one noticed our arrival. As I watched the scene unfolding on the screen, I realized why.

  The two assassins—who I couldn’t identify with the poor visual—appeared to be in trouble. They both wore some sort of eyewear with cameras, which broadcast their actions and words for the rest of us to see and hear.

  “I need the coordinates of their location,” Spence demanded from his post in the center of the room.

  Someone fired off a series of numbers, then a small screen popped up beneath the large one. I recognized Reno on the map.

  “They’ve accessed the sewer drain, sir,” another agent added.

  The blurry image bounced as the assassins crawled through a narrow space, and a hushed voice drifted through the crackling audio. “I can’t see where I’m going.”

  “Someone figure out where that drain leads!” Spence barked.

  “I’m on it.” A female agent pounded away on the keyboard in front of her.

  I didn’t particularly like the command center agents—called “CeeCees” by the rest of us. A line had been drawn in the early years of training between those of us born with physical gifts and those born with an aptitude for problem solving and organization. Since most field assassins were relatively good at both, I always figured the CeeCees were the ones who never figured out how to pull a trigger, but had exceptional ass-kissing skills that had earned them a spot at the top of the agency’s chain of command.

  Assassins and command agents rarely saw eye to eye, but there were times even the best assassins needed their assistance. Within seconds, a map of the sewer system popped up and the female agent began relaying an escape route to the trapped assassins.

  I snuck a peek in Thea’s direction to find her nibbling anxiously on her thumbnail, her eyes fixed on the screen. In raptured silence, she watched their struggle. I couldn’t help but place her in their position, alongside Jake and me. My throat tightened at the mere thought of her being out there, doing what I had spent the past four years doing, going up against vessels and tags. Not just trying to survive, but actively engaging the enemy.

  Then I heard them. Goosebumps danced across my arms at the now-familiar sounds that drifted through the audio. Though distant and fragmented by the unstable feed, I clearly heard the terrifying song of incoming tags.

  One of the assassins on the screen whispered, “Do you hear that?”

  “Command?” the other spoke into his communications device. “Can we get an ID on—”

  The growls and screeches rose quickly, funneled to us through the sewer drains and audio equipment. As loud as it was for us in the command center, I suspected it was unbearable for the two assassins in the field.

  “Get them out of there, Spence!” I yelled. Ten sets of eyes darted in my direction as I pointed a finger at the screen. “That’s tags, in case you don’t know. A whole fucking bunch of them, from the sound of it. Get them out of there now!”

  You would think these agents had never heard or seen a tag before, from the haunted look in their eyes. No one moved. I crossed the room to swipe a radio from someone when the snarls peaked. Panicked cries for help quickly followed.

  “Shit!” I tossed the radio, knowing it was too late to warn the trapped assassins now.

  The attack lasted only a few seconds before the audio mercifully cut off. I reluctantly turned to face the screen, which now showed nothing but a gray line. I only hoped the assassins’ lives were ended as cleanly and easily as their feeds to the agency.

  Several seconds of heavy silence followed. Then a deep voice called out, “Team nine down.”

  Team nine? Who was team nine? I knew every assassin in the agency, but I couldn’t remember who had been given the designation of team nine—not when the labels were constantly changing, as was the case when we lost a team. Whoever they were, they represented a big loss—as one of the top ten.

  “Who was nine?” I asked out loud, prompting Spence to finally shift his attention to me. A few more of the command agents turned in their seats. I looked the one closest to me in the eyes. “Who was it?”

  “Parker and Adam,” he answered softly.

  “The Jamisons?” When he nodded, I lowered my head and moved to Jake’s side.

  The Jamisons were good. What in the hell had they been doing out there? How had they go
tten themselves into that situation? As a whole, we were too well trained to make mistakes that put us in situations with no way out.

  I glanced up when I heard Spence’s voice, calling out a few orders to the command agents. There were seven more teams in the field, and they were to be monitored closely.

  “It’s getting bad out there, boys,” our leader declared when he finally approached us.

  Jake squared his shoulders. “What are our orders?”

  “In my office.” Spence ushered the three of us through a connecting door with a heavy sigh. Once inside the white walls of the boss’s private office, he explained, “As you saw, we still have communication to most of the country, aside from a four-hundred-mile radius around Yellowstone. Our satellite is operational, though sketchy at times with the ash cover. I have three teams unaccounted for right now, but only because we lost coms. We don’t know if they’re dead or alive.”

  “Jesus,” I muttered. “What about the vessels? Have they—”

  “They have not been taken by their masters yet,” Spence answered, “but they’re hiding well. Most of them are accompanied by a large number of tags for protection. We’ve been monitoring a few of them with the satellite. And, of course, we’re still actively searching for Lucifer’s vessel. Until we find him, the intelligence boys are working out which smaller targets we can take without significant risk to our teams.”

  I scoffed. “Like they did for Parker and Adam?”

  Spence’s eyes snapped to mine. “The system isn’t perfect, Romero.”

  Jake’s shoulder bumped mine—his way of warning me to chill before I got into it with the boss man and earned us both an afternoon of kitchen duty.

  “What about transportation, sir?” Jake asked. “Vehicles can’t run in the ash. How are we—”

  “We rolled out the experimental transport vehicles last week from hangar five,” Spence explained.