Made him feel a little better that she had Sinclair’s number and wasn’t fooled by the puppet master’s suave ways and means. “It wasn’t intentional. Just happened. How much do you know about Black?”
“I don’t know much about Michael Black, but if you’re asking me about Sinjun, then yes I know a good bit about him.”
“And his talent?”
“Yes. He has wings. And can fly. It’s not scientifically possible, yet I saw it. Once and… I wasn’t hallucinating, was I?”
“If I say no, will you forget it and let me have my way with you again?”
“No and you’re done for the day. I’m sore and won’t be able to walk right for a week.”
He swallowed a smirk and turned her around to soap down her front. “Tell me where and your naked hottie will massage it all better.”
She smacked his hip. “Focus and quit stalling.”
He chuckled and knelt down to work his way up her legs. “Ben is… special. Like Black, but not. Gifted and whatnot.”
“And…,” she prompted when he took too long to continue. But really who could blame him? He was face to face with something he hadn’t tasted in five years and… she tapped him on the head. “Not happening.”
“Later,” he promised himself as he dragged the soapy fluff ball up her stomach. “Ben and Black got into an altercation that ended up catching Sinclair’s attention. Sinclair had his peeps check it out, then followed up on it himself and I… intervened.”
“Intervened how?”
Deep breath. “Drained them both, manifested their abilities in me long enough to convince Sinclair I was the one he wanted not them. Offer was made to have me sign up under Sinclair and the rest is history.”
“Doubt it was that simple. What did Sinclair use to bribe you into doing his bidding?”
He pulled back. “You know him well.”
“Well enough. What did he offer you?”
“Money. For Beau and Dory. More than enough to rebuild their house and make a true Bootcamp for Brats that would cater to us special needs kids.” He reached behind her and rinsed off the spongy thing. “All done. Rinse up. I’m gonna check on the boys make sure no new intel has arrived.”
“Not so fast.” She grabbed his arm. “What is your mission with Sinclair? What does he want you to do?”
“That’s classified.”
“Declassify it and read me in.”
He smirked. She was damned sexy when she got all growly drill sergeant on him. “Revoke the done for the day order and I’ll be more than happy to give you all the answers you want.”
“Dammit, Van, this is not a game. Sinclair is dangerous. People who work for him get killed. A lot.”
“Not as much as you’d think.”
Her eyes narrowed. “Let me rephrase that. The female mates to the men who work for him get targeted and killed. A lot. I’m your female, you work for him, and I’m now a target so either tell me what your mission is or…?”
“Or what?”
“Or I’ll ask him myself when he calls in a few hours with a new set of orders.”
And there went his good mood. From happy to rip roaring pissed off in a single second it took to process her words. “Your what?”
“Orders.” She gave him cocky half smile. “You know those things he likes to issue to those people he believes work for him. You do get those, don’t you, Van? Orders from Sinclair?”
He advanced on her and damned if she didn’t hold her ground and tilt her head up to look at him. “You said you don’t work for Sinclair.”
“I don’t.”
He relaxed somewhat. “Thank fuck.”
“But he wants me to.”
“Tough shit. It isn’t happening. Ever. Clear?”
“Oh, I hear you, but I’ll do whatever I have to in order to protect me and you from whatever troubled pot Sinclair insists on stirring and if that means selling my soul out to the devil with an assumption that’ll make him regret ever playing me over the
Nexus suit, I’ll fucking do it. Is. That. Clear?”
He watched in shocked silence as she punctuated her final question by poking him in the chest. He shook his head. “I swear, woman, you’re gonna drive me to an early grave.”
“At least you’ll know it’s done with love and not some piss poor excuse of revenge or vengeance or political intrigue or whatever the heck Sinclair’s stick is poking into this week.”
“World domination and saving the human race from extinction.”
“That’s…,” she pulled back, shocked. “Not what I expected.”
“Which part? The world domination bit or—”
She waved a hand in the air. “Saving the human race. It’s… noble.”
“Yeah, well it might look good on paper, but in reality it sucks and that’s all you’re getting from me. Finish your shower. Breakfast will be waiting when you’re out.”
He left her in the shower and exited. Toweled off and dry, he dug through his duffel for clothes then started to get dressed and ready to face whatever cluster fuck of epic proportion hit them today. And it would. He wasn’t naïve enough to believe it wouldn’t. And on that note, he drew in a deep breath and sent up a silent prayer to whatever being who’d blessed him the night he’d been set free from his childhood hell.
Sure, it might not seem like it was necessary, but why push it? Fate had granted him an easy hall pass with Maddie’s Q&A session. She had asked her questions and he’d given her the easy answers. The rote ones that made up his past. She hadn’t asked the tough ones. The real ones that’d have her breathing down his throat like a mama bear protecting her cubs. And she would. Especially after she found out about what’d come in on his phone while she’d been consumed with getting down the equations from her math dream.
Ivanov had found Maddie’s brother, Zed, and sent the intel to Fox. That was great and a huge relief, but not enough of one to deter the panic that’d started with the next message.
Delta team would arrive within 2 hours.
That left him a shitload less amount of time than he really needed to pull a miracle out of his ass that’d keep Maddie from storming the compound where her brother were being held and Bravo out of Sinclair’s reach, away from Caliv and Delta team and… “Fuck. Me,” he muttered to himself as he buttoned his jeans then sat down to pull on his boots. “How the hell am I supposed to get Bravo to voluntarily leave the compound and not question why I’m ordering it and—”
He broke off muttering to himself as his phone, sitting next to him on the bed, pinged with a message. From Fox. Daisy. Catfish.
A slow smile worked its way across his face and into his mood. “Genius. Fucking genius.” Swipe of the phone screen and Tango pulled it to his ear.
Gruff voice answered on the third ring. “This better be life or death.”
Tango bent over to finish lacing up his boots. “You at home base?”
Ben’s voice softened as he talked to someone, probably his girl, Bethany, in the background. “No, baby, go back to sleep. It’s just Gabriel. Yeah, yeah, I’ll tell him.” A click sounded in the background as Ben stepped out of the room. “I’m home. Didn’t get in until a few hours ago. What do you need?”
Tango told him. By the end, Ben was chuckling. “Damn, Gabriel, that’s cold even for you.”
“But necessary.”
“I agree. But it’ll cost you.”
“How much?”
“Fox.”
“Not permanently.”
“Not yet, but you let me train him,” Ben negotiated.
“Only if he wants.”
“He’ll want to. Trust me, he’ll want to.”
“We have a deal?”
“Consider it done.”
Tango relaxed, grabbed a shirt to shrug into. He was about to sign off when Ben added, “Bethany is expecting you at Alex’s birthday party.”
Alex was Alexandra, Ben’s almost eighteen year old daughter. “On mission right now, might not
be able to make it.”
“Understood. Maddie is priority.”
Tango acknowledged that with a grunt.
“If you can make it, present is mandatory. Black is buying her a chastity belt. Her mate found her and if I don’t kill the fucker…,” Ben growled under his breath. “Vampire. My baby girl’s fucking true mate is a goddamn blood sucker.”
There was only one mate-less vampire that Tango knew of who had been assigned by Sinclair to Ben’s group. “Charlemagne?”
By the amount of shuffling coming through the phone, it sounded like Ben was getting dressed as well. “Yes. Only reason the fucker is still undead and breathing is he confessed that shit to me and not my baby girl. That and he avoids Alex like the she’s the second coming of the Christ.”
Tango smirked as he tugged his shirt on. Smirked because he could see exactly what Ben was describing. Charlemagne was not constructed to be commitment material. Damn vamp was all polish and prose when it came to the ladies, but insert a preacher and a lifelong commitment of enforced monogamy and… yeah, Charlemagne would run. Hard and fast. Hell, Tango might not be an over two hundred year old vamp who’d lost his soul and been vamp-turned back in the eighteenth century during a country party-slash-orgy gone horribly awry, but before Maddie… hell yeah, Tango had been a runner, too. “Alex know Charlemagne is hers?”
“No. Thank fuck.” Ben snorted. “Only damn thing saving my sanity is Alex being as dense as her mother about that shit.”
Fully dressed, Tango grabbed his wallet and the bare minimum knives he kept on his person at all time. “Want me to talk to Tristan. Convince him to take Charlemagne back on his team.”
“Tried that. Tristan’s got his hands full and last thing he needs is another vamp in his group ignoring orders and going off reservation to hunt their soul so they can mate.” Ben growled again. “I called Trace. He’s on it. At least he better be fucking on it.”
“If Trace said he’s on it, then he’s on it.”
“I know, but damn, Gabriel, a vampire? Who the hell did I piss off upstairs to get this shit? Fatherhood is hard enough without having to worry about some two hundred year old French gigolo making fangy eyes at my baby girl.” Apparently Ben was having a rhetorical rant, because he heaved a weary sigh then muttered, “Heading out the door now. Rand and Charlemagne will be with me. Make sure your boy Dell knows we’re not a threat. Last thing I need is for him to panic and blast Charlemagne with that nympho shit magic he’s packing.”
Tango didn’t even try to hold back a snort of laughter. “Fox will tell him. Thanks, Ben. I owe you. Contact me when you’re in position.”
“Will do. Alpha out.” Ben disconnected.
Tango left the bedroom and went in search of the team. He found them in the kitchen. Bravo and Dell were at the table with a file folder open in between them and papers being handed back and forth. Whiskey was at the stove making pancakes. “Where’s Fox?”
“Just stepped out with Lily-pup to do her business,” Whiskey answered. “You and Maddie good?”
“Yeah. We’re good.” Tango nodded to where Bravo and Dell were then asked Whiskey, “They working on Ivanov’s intel?”
“No, already went through that. Will hit it again after breakfast, but they needed a break.” Whiskey flipped pancakes in the pan. “That distraction is Oak Haven stuff.”
“Do I need to intervene?”
“Nah,” Whiskey said. “They’re almost done. Lawyer needs marching orders today to hit a window of opportunity. Once they eat and hit a consensus, they’ll be back and focused on the mission.”
“Good,” Tango said as he leaned back against the counter to watch.
“This won’t do,” Dell mumbled.
Bravo nodded, slid a page to Dell then reached for his phone. “Agreed. Bastard’s been steadily hiding assets.”
“Can you stop him,” Dell asked.
“Could,” Bravo said as he typed a message out on his phone, “but I’ve got a better idea.” Finished with the text, he set the phone aside and looked at Dell. “The guy is already squawking that the kids aren’t his.”
“DNA tests prove otherwise,” Dell replied.
Bravo nodded. “Definitely, but if there’s no trail from them to him, then there’s nothing to stop us from going with Plan A.”
“We’d have to get Daisy to talk it over with the mother and make sure she’s onboard with cutting all ties.”
Bravo pointed to papers still in the folder. “Daisy and therapist and doctor all discussed the option with the mother. We give her assurances it’ll stick and she can keep her kids safe, then she’s onboard.”
Fox strolled in with a tired out, but happy looking Lily-pup. “We can keep her and the pups safe. I vote Plan A.”
Lily-pup glanced up at Tango as she brushed past him and headed straight for the water bowl.
Fox pulled out a chair and sat at the table. “It’s your call, Dell. Between the three of us, you’ve spent more time around 10-D and her kids.”
“Andrea,” Dell said. “Kody and Kyle.”
Dell didn’t sound like he was completely onboard. Sounded more like he was thinking about it and had some reservations which is what prompted Tango to ask, “What is Plan A and will it require more than one alibi?”
Bravo and Fox looked at each other, then nodded as if coming to a mutual decision. Bravo gathered the papers back into the folder, then pushed it in front of an empty chair. “See for yourself.”
Tango sat down and started reading the file. Two pages into the doctor and therapist notes and multiple pictures of bruising on the mother and her children, Tango was growling.
There was a snap-click from behind him as Whiskey shut off the stove and then carried the platter of pancakes to the table. “Save at least three for Mama Tango.”
The boys dug in and started making plates.
Another flip of the page and Tango muttered, “She’s pregnant.”
“Yep, with number three,” Bravo said as he slid his phone screen up towards him. “Latest doctor’s notes from the prenatal exam.”
Tango squinted at the screen and couldn’t make heads or tails from the chicken scratch. He picked it up and held it out. “Whiskey, decipher this.”
Whiskey swallowed the bite on his fork, then took the phone. Quick scan, then he was grabbing the file folder and rifling through papers. “Does she want to keep the baby?”
“Think so,” Bravo said.
“Find out for certain,” Whiskey said as he continued flipping back and forth between the screen and paper. “According to her bloodwork… combined with the physical trauma and the spotting… I’d say there’s more than a fifty percent chance she’ll miscarry.”
“And if she wants to keep it,” Dell asked.
“If she wants to keep it… increase her folic acid and…,” Whiskey considered the question, then started typing on the phone. When he was done, he offered the phone to Dell. “Change her diet, incorporate that into her routine, and bed rest. No heavy lifting.”
Dell took the phone and Bravo leaned toward him so they could both read it. Dell nodded, then let Bravo take the phone. “Send it to Daisy.”
“Texting it now,” Bravo said.
Whiskey looked shocked. “That’s your personal phone.”
“Yeah,” Bravo muttered, then set the phone down to start chowing down. “She’s got it. Will head over after she grabs a shower.”
“Daisy has your personal number,” Whiskey uttered in a shocked-stupid tone. “Like your personal number. Not a number to a burn phone you’re planning on ditching any moment now.”
Bravo arched a brow and looked at Whiskey. “You got a problem with that?”
Fox snorted.
Dell smirked.
Whiskey appeared to be at a loss for words. “No problem just… when the hell did this happen?”
“Night before you called us in,” Fox said.
“Damn,” Whiskey muttered as he dug into his back pocket for his wall
et. He pulled out a twenty and slapped it on the table by Dell. “Figured he’d at least hold out until Christmas.”
Tango clapped Bravo on the shoulder. “You do realize that Daisy is Trace’s niece.”
“Yep,” Bravo said.
“And that if anything happens to her, you will die a slow, painful death.”
“Yep.”
“You set up a protocol for her,” Tango asked.
Bravo nodded.
“Escape route?”
Bravo nodded again as Fox answered, “By car and foot.”
“Safe house?”
Dell answered with a smirk as he pocketed the twenty. “One in the complex. Two in town. Three on exit routes out of town.”
“Surveillance in apartment?”
Fox’s grin was evil. “Did that weeks ago. Interior and exterior.”
Tango was enjoying the glare Bravo was sending directly at Dell and Fox too much to stop now. “Cloned her phone to a new secure one?”
“A-yup,” Fox answered. “Uploaded her contact picture to all your phones as well.”
“The fuck you did,” Bravo growled out at the same time Dell muttered a, “Hot damn.”
Tango whipped out his phone and scrolled through the contacts. There she was. Daisy Mason. He turned the phone around so Bravo could see it. There was nothing inappropriate about the picture. Nothing that he’d imagine Bravo would have issue with. “This her?”
“Yeah.”
Whiskey whistled low. “Damn, Bravo, your girl is hot. Really like the way that sheet is strategically placed so it looks like it’s right about to slide off her chest. Nice.”
Bravo to Fox. “You’re dead.”
Fox’s grin was unrepentant as he held out his phone to Whiskey. “Check out morning after and lover boy’s back.”
“Aw shit.” Whiskey chuckled with glee. “She got you good. Marked the fuck out of your back.”
A surge of energy rolled through the room and Tango paused in lifting his fork to his mouth and opened up his senses to absorb as much as he could then tried to deflect Bravo’s rising ire. “What code word did you give her?”
The energy surge died down almost immediately and Bravo took a sip of milk. “Catfish.”
The significance of the word was not lost on any of the team members, but it did come as a shock to Whiskey whose jaw just about hit the table. The ‘Catfish’ protocol was the same protocol that Tango had erected for Maddie shortly after getting with her. It was also the same code word that Michael Black had developed for his baby’s mama, Amelia, and the same that Ben had setup for his girl, Bethany, and daughter, Alex. So knowing that Bravo chose the same code word for his Daisy girl… yeah, it meant something.
Devil's Tango (Running with the Devil Book 1) Page 21
