“When we make love, I’m not going to rush to fit it in before something else. I want to take my time. I want to have hours, days, to spend making you desperate for more. Tonight, we sleep.”
He forced himself to turn away from her and head out of the room. It was one of the hardest things he’d ever had to do. But he had to talk to his team and make sure they were ready for the rest of this mission.
They had three days to get to La Paz. More than enough time if they didn’t have the entire Northern Territory Enforcement agency on their ass. They had to be prepared for anything if they were going to make it to the antidote in time.
And they would make it on time.
Or die trying.
Chapter Seventeen
The penthouse, CommTECH building, New York
Miriam Shepherd opened her eyes and read the personal message that flashed across her comlens. A message from the Broker. A message that had woken her up. And she didn’t like what she read one little bit. For a moment, she stared up into the star-filled sky through the glass ceiling above her bed and wondered what her next move should be. Should she tell her fellow leaders that Friday Jones was still a threat? Or should she deal with the problem and inform them after the fact?
She pressed her fingertips to her temple and rubbed circles. Enforcement had let her down again. How Ms. Jones had evaded them in Galveston, she didn’t know. But she was going to get to the bottom of the incompetency as soon as she’d dealt with her latest problem—whether to tell the other leaders or not. It was tiresome to have to consult others in such matters. Not that they would be of any use. Ju-Long would offer up outdated ideas for Friday’s capture. Serge would most likely be drunk and fucking his way through one of the downtown clubs by now. And Sandrine would find a way to use the information to further her own agenda. Because Sandrine was power-hungry. Miriam saw the look every time she met the other woman’s eyes. She recognized it because it was the same visceral need that drove each of her own decisions. No, she wouldn’t inform the others. Not yet.
With a sigh, she rolled to the edge of her bed and reached for the silky robe draped over the arm of the antique chair. The white fabric was smooth and cool against her skin. Another reminder of the power and money at her disposal. A moan brought her attention back to the young man currently tied on his back to her bed. She’d been very careful to ensure that the wrist and ankle cuffs didn’t break his skin. Not because she cared about damage, but because she couldn’t tolerate the thought of her pristine white room becoming contaminated with his blood.
Her eyes slid down his muscular body, to the painfully stiff erection straining up from his groin. She had planned to use him again before morning. Now, with yet another mess to clean up, she found her mood had changed. With the slightest thought, she sent a command for her head of security. A moment later the door opened, and Kane strode through. The man was an uncanny combination of brains, brawn, and ruthless obedience. For years, he’d functioned as her personal bodyguard and head of her security. And he had never failed to please her.
He inclined his head in acknowledgment before eyeing the man on the bed. The muscle in his jaw ticked at the sight of the brutal erection.
“Please get rid of that for me.”
Miriam turned her back on the young employee. He was nothing more than a perk of the job. Her position afforded her access to a never-ending parade of young men, each of them eager to meet with CommTECH’s director in the hopes of advancing their careers. Of course, after a trip to the clinic the following morning, none of the men remembered ever having set foot in Miriam’s apartment. Their time together was nothing more than a gap in their memories and a few unexplained bruises and scars on their bodies. She smirked at the thought. There was nothing more delightful than meeting up with one of her men during work and seeing their lack of recognition. In fact, on a number of occasions, she’d used the same man twice, enjoying that she could do what she wanted and the evidence would be wiped away.
“How much stimulant did you give him?” Kane asked. “He’s sweating, and it looks like his balls will burst.”
“I don’t know. Enough.” She looked over her shoulder as she walked across the polished wood toward her bathroom. “I had planned to use him again before he was removed.” She smiled at her loyal employee. Kane deserved some perks, too. “You can do as you wish with him until he’s taken to the clinic. No point in letting him go to waste.”
The smile that curved around the man’s lips would have made most people shudder. Miriam wasn’t most people. She closed the bathroom door behind her and stepped into the cleansing chamber. A mental command to the unit made sure that her body was expertly cleansed, perfumed, and moisturized in a matter of minutes. Knowing she had an image to present, even if it was the middle of the night, Miriam pressed her face to the makeup mask and felt the tingle as it made up her face. A quick walk through her closet allowed her to select a white silk trouser suit and matching leather boots. Once dressed, she headed for her office.
“Director.” The Enforcement agent bowed his head as soon as she had him on screen.
Miriam didn’t waste any time. “Friday Jones is alive.”
The man’s jaw clenched tight.
“My source tells me that she’s meeting a jet in Monterrey on Saturday morning. Early. The pickup is scheduled for before dawn.”
“Do you know which direction she’s coming from?”
“In other words, do I know where she is now?” Miriam’s fingers flicked on the console, and she pulled up the Enforcement captain’s file, aware he could see her actions. “No. But I think I’ve done enough of your job for you. Don’t you?”
The man paled as Miriam sent his details to Kane. She was well aware that the rumors around Kane were particularly vicious. Often times, those rumors alone were enough of a threat to ensure compliance.
“Forgive me, Director. I’ll make sure that there is a team waiting for her in Monterrey.”
Miriam pinned him with a look. “A team of mercenaries. We can’t afford to have Enforcement linked to operations in Coalition Countries.”
“Of course.”
“Make sure the orders you give to the mercenaries are clear. This is an elimination. It is not a capture.”
“Yes, Director.” He hesitated. “And if there is anyone accompanying her?”
Miriam almost wished the man were physically in front of her so she could slap him for his stupidity. “Let me be as clear for you as I can. I don’t care who is with her. I want the scientist and her companions killed. I don’t want any witnesses. I don’t want any loose ends. Do you think you can manage that, Captain?”
“Yes, Dir—”
With a dismissive wave of her hand, she got rid of his image and turned to look out at the city’s skyline. When would she reach a position where she wouldn’t have to deal with petty issues? She’d thought being director of CommTECH would be enough. She ruled over the most prosperous and powerful Territory on the globe. But increasingly, these past few years, she’d found that other people’s mistakes were disturbing her peace. It only reinforced what she had long believed. There were too many leaders on the planet. A peaceful existence, for her and her Territory, was dependent on there being one clear leader. Someone every nation rallied around. Someone so powerful that petty issues were beneath them.
That someone was her.
Chapter Eighteen
After a few hours of the best sleep she’d ever had, curled safe in Striker’s arms, Friday sat impatiently while everyone argued about her. Doc wanted to sedate her before they made their way through the red mist to the EMP barrier. Apparently, the consensus was that she was likely to throw herself into the mist again. She scoffed at the thought, now that she knew it didn’t affect Striker, she was hardly going to save him from it. A fact she’d told his team. Unfortunately, they weren’t listening to logic, and she’d resigned herself to waiting for them to talk themselves out.
She was bored. She wanted
to get going. She didn’t want to die. She mentally rolled her eyes at herself. Of course she didn’t want to die. Did anyone?
“You don’t know what effect a sedative would have on the poison she took,” Striker shouted, even though she’d told them twice now that it would have no effect at all. Seemed no one was interested in listening to the expert in the room, so she let them carry on wasting their time—for now. “We can’t take any chance of reducing the time we’ve got left to get to La Paz.”
“You’re being unreasonable,” Doc shouted back. “If she touches the mist again, you’re gonna lose another damn day dealing with the repercussions.”
“I won’t touch the mist,” Friday said again, and was ignored—again.
It was clear she didn’t actually have to be present for the argument. She wondered if they would mind if she went to the lab and read through Doc’s research. There was a lot of it, and she was eager to get started. The team fascinated her. Especially Striker. She shivered at the thought of his late-night kisses and the promises he’d made to drive her crazy with his touch. She couldn’t wait.
“We can’t take any chances with her,” Striker’s angry words snapped her back to the useless argument they were all set on having.
His shoulders rippled, and she could have sworn the diamondback looked straight at her. She leaned closer to stare at the thing. Did it move? Maybe it was just the tensing of Striker’s muscles while he waved his arms around. The man gestured when he was angry. Great big over-the-top gestures. Strangely, she found it more amusing than threatening.
“We’ll get through the red a lot quicker if she’s out cold,” Mace said. “She isn’t exactly up to the team’s standard of fitness. It will go faster if we knock her out and carry her.”
She frowned at the huge man. That was insulting. She might not be able to run as fast as Mace, but she was a normal-size human being, not a freakishly large man with a tiny brain.
She tuned them out. She got the impression that they were more interested in venting tension than actually winning the argument. But she was so bored. She even wished she had the diamondback to keep her company. She’d love to get a closer look at the patterns on the snake. They were so pretty. She even liked how it felt to hold him. Was it a he or she? She should really ask Striker. When he wasn’t shouting.
“Hey,” she whispered to his living tattoo, entertaining herself, “come play with me.”
Her jaw dropped when the head of the snake moved, and the body wriggled.
“What the hell?” Striker shouted.
The next thing she knew, the diamondback popped off his skin and was slithering across the floor of the main cavern toward her seat. The sudden silence was oppressive. Everybody in the room gawked as the snake made its way up her leg to curl in her lap. It butted her hand to make her pet it, which she did, turning red under the shocked stares of the team at the same time.
“Sorry,” she said. “I was bored and thought I’d hang out with the snake. Carry on shouting. Don’t mind us.”
“Did she just…?” Mace pointed at her.
“What?” She petted the animal in her lap as it snuggled into her. She probably should have felt like prey, but mainly she felt comforted.
“Bébé, you called my snake off my body.” Striker’s voice was soft as he took a step toward her. His arms were folded over his sleeveless shirt, making those distracting shoulders bulge.
“I’m sorry?” It was clear from the reactions that she’d done something wrong. “I didn’t mean to. I just asked him if he wanted to come play, and he did.”
The men shared uneasy looks. Striker crouched down in front of her and put his hands on her knees.
“You don’t understand. You shouldn’t have been able to communicate with the snake, let alone call it to you and have it obey.”
“Oh.” She looked down at the reptile. “This has never happened before?”
“No.” His hands flexed on her knees. “We’ve tried calling each other’s animals, and we’ve tried communicating with them, too, but we can’t.”
“Then why did it come to me?” And why did that make her feel warm inside, like she was special? Her cheeks flushed at the childish thought. She needed to put her brain to good use. This was about analyzing the unusual behavior of the snake, not feeling smug because she managed to do something the men hadn’t.
“Guess the man and the snake are both fascinated by you, chère.”
That made her cheeks burn hotter.
“Maybe she’s a snake whisperer, like Gray said.” Mace came to stand beside them. “Some people have an affinity for animals. We should get her to try calling someone else’s. See if it works with them.”
“And while you’re at it”—Friday frowned up at him—“maybe you can also stop talking about her as though she wasn’t sitting right here.”
“You’re a pain in the ass,” Mace said. “You know that, right?”
She considered the reptile snuggling in her lap. “I wonder if he’d bite you if I asked him nicely.”
That caused laughter. Even Mace managed a smile. Wonder of wonders, the man didn’t die from the effort.
“She can call to my animal.” Gray, who was drinking coffee at the table on the other side of the room, stood. He put his mug down and sauntered toward them.
“You sure, Gray? It means she knows about you.” Mace looked down at her. She couldn’t read his expression. “She could still be captured by Enforcement. You have to assume that anything she knows is something they could know, too.” He gave Striker a pointed look. “Which is why I suggested keeping the show-and-tell until after La Paz.”
“I don’t care about Enforcement.” Gray stood beside them and tugged his T-shirt off. He was just as muscled as the rest of the men, but he was nowhere near as gorgeous as Striker.
She caught Striker glaring at her for studying Gray’s chest.
“Don’t worry,” she told him. “You’re prettier.”
He choked at her words, and the team snickered.
“Seriously,” Mace said to Gray. “Think about this.”
“I told you. Let Enforcement come. I’ll be ready.” The cold look Gray’s face made Friday think there wasn’t a whole lot he cared about, least of all his own life.
She felt a surge of excitement as he turned to show her his back. She wanted to see all of their animals. She wanted to study the team, and their partner creatures, until she had all the answers they needed. She gasped as his tattoo came into view. It was a glorious wolf curled across his back as though sleeping.
“Call to it,” Gray ordered.
She frowned at him. She didn’t like taking orders. She also didn’t like the pressure of performing while everyone watched her.
“Just try, bébé.” Striker caressed her cheek, making her melt.
She took a deep breath and looked at the wolf. “Hey, you,” she whispered at it, making the diamondback raise its head to see what she was doing. “Want to come play with me?”
The reptile in her lap head-butted her hand as though jealous, but the wolf didn’t move.
“Again,” Striker encouraged.
“Can I touch it? It might help. We’ve never met, so it might not listen to me.”
His mouth tightened. He didn’t like that suggestion at all, but he nodded tersely.
“It’s okay with me.” Gray’s voice was devoid of emotion.
Gingerly, she reached out to trace the curve of the wolf. The detail was amazing. She almost expected to touch fur. Instead, all she felt was the warm skin of a strange man.
“Hey, wolfie, want to come play with me?” she whispered again, making the diamondback hiss its annoyance. But the wolf didn’t react.
“Nothing.” Striker sounded almost relieved.
Gray shrugged back into his shirt. “Maybe she can only call to reptiles.”
Striker studied her. “Or maybe, she can only call to my animal. That’s what the damn snake is telling me, anyway.”
; Eyes widened. Mace let out a whistle.
“It’s actually talking now?”
“Short sentences.” Striker smiled ruefully. “It just told me I was an idiot, and that Friday is special.”
That made everyone stare at her again. She held up her hands as though surrendering. “Trust me, the diamondback is wrong. There’s nothing special about me at all. I am one hundred percent ordinary. Ask Striker.”
His eyes warmed as he smiled at her. “I wouldn’t call you ordinary, chère.”
“Guess this is something we’ll have to look into once you two get back from Bolivia,” Doc said.
Friday glanced up at the hole in the ceiling. The red mist had lightened. “Can we go now?”
Striker let out a sigh. “Yeah.”
“Great.” She stood with the diamondback curled round her shoulders. “I’m going to assume that I’ll be awake for the trip to the Coalition border and start putting the barrier cream on.” She strode toward the tunnel that led to Striker’s room. He’d brought a tub of cream and a new suit for her that morning.
“Friday?” he called out after her. “You forgetting something?”
She looked back at him. “Don’t worry, I’ll wait for you to do my back before I put the suit on.”
His smile was devastating. “Can I have my snake back, bébé?”
Her cheeks burned. “Sorry. Go home now,” she told the diamondback.
It hissed as though grumbling at her, but slid off her body and headed to his other half.
“I’ll be damned,” Mace said, and Friday realized she’d ordered the reptile around again.
“Don’t blame me,” she told them. “Blame the snake!”
With everyone staring at her, she hurried toward the bedroom. It was time to get out of the Red Zone and see if she had a future ahead of her.
…
Friday lasted almost an hour in the red mist before the questions started. Striker was impressed. He figured she must have been bursting to talk for at least fifty minutes of that hour.
“Does the mist have any effect on you at all?”
Red Zone Page 12
