by Anya Nowlan
As fast as she’d been, he seemed three times as swift. The man was up, his strong hand clamped around her wrist like a vise, yanking her arm back as he grabbed her by the shoulder, slamming her face-first on the table while still standing across from her. Kelis gasped, her cheek against the cold surface, her body painfully restrained with her arm snagged up and behind her, straining against the socket.
“Fucking let go of me,” she hissed, trying to slither out of his grip, but the man gave her no room to struggle.
“Listen now, Kelis. That’s no way to treat your superior,” he spoke in his calm voice, not the least bit winded or worn.
“I don’t fucking work for you,” she growled, full of spite.
“Yes, you do. You just don’t know it yet,” he said softly, letting go of her arm and grabbing her by the scruff of her neck like she was some stray kitten.
He yanked her back, his hand twisting around until it was clutching her throat, pressing down just right so her air was cut off, squeezing despite her hands clawing for him.
“Now now, kitty cat. Stop with the claws. I could break your neck right now, but I’m not. No one lays a hand on me unless requested and I’ve killed better men for lesser slights. But I like you. I like your spirit. And whether you know this or not, you will be very valuable to me very soon.”
With that, he let her go, completely ignoring the deep gashes she’d left along his forearm and the bruise that was already forming on his bicep from a punch that would have rattled most men twice his size. She crumpled into her seat, wheezing, eyes wild as she looked at this despicable monster before her, clad in fucking Armani and looking like the world owed him too many favors to count.
“The fuck’s wrong with you,” she hacked, clutching her throat.
Another ten or so seconds and she would have passed out cold. She was entirely certain that this dangerous animal she’d been stuck in a small room with was very well aware of this.
“Tsk, tsk, Kelis. Let’s not dwell on the problem, but the solution, shall we? I have a solution for all your problems, the ones you have and the ones I can give you, and all you need to do is listen.”
He smirked, smoothing the sleeve of his shirt back over his mangled arm, blood slowly seeping into the fabric where she’d ripped at him.
“It’s not like I have a choice, do I?” she huffed back, her voice a hoarse whisper.
“There’s always a choice,” he said, lowering himself into the seat with the poise of a king. “You listen to me, or you die. Nothing more to it.”
She didn’t know it then, but the man across from her would easily become both her biggest nightmare and her staunchest supporter. Though his support often took the form of misery, and the nightmares he weaved twice as much.
His name was Spade. And like everyone else that had ever met him, she hated him on sight.
CHAPTER EIGHT
Grant
“I’m telling you, I’m fine,” Dutch groaned, flopping down on his stomach in the makeshift operating room, carved out of a corner of the base of operations The Firm had afforded Squad Six for this mission.
It was no less than nine months now since the mission in Boston and every time Grant looked over someone with a concussive injury, he still got flashbacks of the carnage on the airplane. Though no one other than Arctics agents had died that time, it had been a close call for a few of the football players. The team had needed to knock out every single one of them to quell their murderous rages, but a two hundred and fifty pound man could do a lot of damage in a few seconds, even if his adversary was the exact same size.
Several had ended up in intensive care after the adrenaline and the effects of the drug wore off, and after giving Kelis over to intel, Grant had joined The Firm doctors in order to patch them up.
I wonder where she disappeared to, he pondered idly, the same question he’d asked himself far too many times since the night he, Grim, and Kelis had shared together.
“Doc, you going to do something or am I exposing my delicate flesh here for fucking nothing?” Dutch asked, hiking himself up on one elbow and giving Grant a look.
“Wise-ass. Shut up and pretend to have some sense. You’re a father of two now. You’d think you’d get over your sass,” Grant grumbled, peeling back the bandages he’d set the previous day over a knife wound that had penetrated Dutch’s lower back.
He’d gotten insanely lucky, as the slack-jawed idiot who’d come for him from behind had missed every possible thing he could hit that would have done serious damage. Not that it mattered, considering that the guy still ended up with eight broken fingers and the knife shoved into his thigh for good measure. The up- and downsides of missions in odd locations—no one was going to mind if you fucked up an Argentinian drug trafficker in the middle of nowhere, especially if he was asking for it.
“My sass? What am I, someone from an Oprah episode?” Dutch snorted, rolling back on his stomach without a little bit of grumbling. “Just hurry up. I need to clock out and go see how Ari’s doing with the kids. Rhalyn’s working on saying ‘daddy’ and I’d rather not miss it because I’m here, chatting with your highly amusing but entirely repetitive self.”
“Yeah yeah, I hear you,” Grant said with a sigh, putting on a fresh bandage already as the wound looked good and it was almost entirely healed because of his jaguar being fit and strong.
The moment he’d get to his family, Grant knew the healing would speed up even more. It always did when shifters were around their loved ones. It gave them strength. Twins had a bit of a cheat in that sense, because they could regenerate faster on account of being around their sibling, but it was still nothing compared to having a mate thrown in as well. Nothing quite as powerful as an Alpha triad.
Something you’ll probably never experience, Grant mused glumly, giving Dutch a tap on the shoulder.
“You’re good to go, big guy. Are we meeting for drinks tomorrow night, usual place? Grim got a table at The Pool Room for us. We figured we could kick back a few shots, see where the night takes us,” Grant offered as Dutch rolled himself off the cot and stood up, stretching as if Grant had confined him for hours on end.
“I don’t know, man. We’ve been away for a while and I want to get in some time with Ari and the kids, you know?” Dutch said, shrugging apologetically and clapping Grant on the shoulder as he grabbed his leather jacket. “But tell you what, we’ll have another barbecue at our place on Saturday. Get everyone together, wives, kids, the whole shebang. Okay?”
“Sure,” Grant said, smiling mildly as Dutch beamed a smile at him.
The werejaguar had taken to smiling a hell of a lot more now that he had a mate and a family. It wasn’t a gradual change; it was more like it had happened overnight. Ever since he and Ari got together, Dutch had been a changed man. And that went for the other members of Squad Six as well, all settled down with their happy families. All except the Aldroch brothers, that was.
Grant watched Dutch stalk out of their temporary mission room, tucked in some random corridor in The Firm’s San Francisco offices. Instead of giving them a permanent space, something with an actual medical bay and storage and other reasonable things like that, The Firm kept jerking Squad Six around every time they returned from another mission. It was always a new cubbyhole, another random cot to sleep on.
Back when the whole squad had been involved, they’d been working toward getting something that didn’t change every mission break, because all six of them would stay on The Firm property and they didn’t particularly enjoy keeping their gear in a new place every time. But now, four out of the six of them would return home the moment they could, for obvious reasons, and it was only Grant and Grim left to bemoan their questionable lodgings.
Grant threw the medkit together, noting to himself that he’d have to resupply when they got new mission details, and grabbed his jacket as well. In the good old days, the squad would all hit the town, get into some trouble, fuck some hot women, and then do everything all over aga
in. Those days were long past though, and Grant and Grim were left to their own devices now.
He threw on the jacket, and his mood soured. He couldn’t fault his friends and squad mates. Really, he would have done the same, had he someone to come home to. Questions of family had never really laid heavily on his mind, but recently, he’d been more and more aware of the fact that he wasn’t getting any younger and the lives his pals were leading started looking oddly appealing.
No fucking way you can find someone that fits both you and Grim. You know that. Even if Kelis came really fucking close, Grant thought, rubbing his chin as he made sure he had his wallet and his phone in his pocket as he stepped out of the room and headed down the hallway.
He was just rounding a corner when he heard familiar steps, his cougar perking up at the presence.
Grim, he thought.
He could usually tell his brother was approaching from a good distance away. It helped in battle, too, as he was always keenly aware of where Grim was and in what state, or whether he was in trouble or not. The black shadows that were hanging over his mood lifted slightly and he let out a sigh, glad at least that he wasn’t entirely alone in this mess.
“Brother,” Grant called as Grim came into view, whistling slightly, carrying his duffel over his shoulder.
“Hey, man. Heading out?” Grim asked as they stopped in the middle of the hallway, at an intersection of corridors leading throughout the fifth floor of the main building of The Firm’s compound.
“I was thinking about it. It’s getting late. Figured I’d get a bite to eat or something, maybe grab a drink or ten.”
“Ahh, good post-mission day, huh,” Grim said with a chuckle. “I’m up for a drink. Let’s go drop my gear and we can go. Wearing fatigues, I’m pretty sure we’ll be intolerably popular downtown.”
“As usual,” Grim said, reluctantly turning around and heading back to their shared room.
The Firm had also assigned them an apartment, another thing that kept rotating along with the whims of their employer, but they preferred stashing their guns and professional equipment somewhere a bit more safe than a random dinky house they’d never even been to before. Didn’t mean they minded taking women back to those apartments, though.
“We’re the only ones, huh?” Grim questioned as Grant unlocked the door and Grim tossed his bag in the corner. “Dutch leave already?”
“His wound was fine; he ran off to watch Disney movies with the podlings,” Grant said with a shrug of his shoulders as they set off again.
“Jealous?” Grim teased, his blue eyes twinkling with mirth.
“Maybe,” Grant allowed in a moment of honesty.
“Yeah? That’s new,” Grim muttered, sounding a bit surprised, but so was Grant.
“I’m as taken aback as you are, trust me,” Grim grunted as they reached the stairwell, preferring the stairs to the elevators.
It was an old SEAL thing. Don’t get stuck in a small space if you don’t have to. They hiked down the stairs with swift steps, in peak physical condition as they were, until Grant almost stumbled and fell about three flights lower. He heard a noise, a voice, and it rooted him to the ground.
“Yo, Grant, watch your freaking step, man,” Grim said with a laugh, but he hushed immediately.
The two men stared at one another, eyes wide with surprise as a very familiar, very lovey sound wafted into their ears.
“Are you hearing what I’m hearing?” Grant asked, the hair on the back of his neck standing up.
“Fuck yes,” Grim growled, his eyes glancing up and down, trying to distinguish where the noise was coming from. “Up,” he said, and he burst into movement, practically flying up the stairs with Grant in tow.
It can’t be, Grant thought feverishly. She disappeared on us. And why would she be in The Firm’s designated hellhole?
But that didn’t make his feet stop. The Aldroch brothers burst into the corridor that opened up on the fourth floor, Grim a couple of paces ahead, running toward the faint noise. Grant caught up with his faster sibling only when Grim’s steps ground almost to a stop, stalking rather than walking now.
Grim raised a hand, hushing Grant, and he complied with the command. While Grant was a talented medic, he could always trust his brother’s instincts better when it came to hunting down something or someone. The ranger in the family had always been Grim.
“You get that what you’re asking is fucking impossible, right?! I’d never leave them,” the spirited, animated voice of Kelis came through the slightly open door in front of Grim and Grant.
Grant could have been knocked over with a feather at that very moment. Grim looked back at him, straightening up, a look of dumb, honest surprise plastered on his face.
It’s her…
Before Grant could say anything for or against it, Grim had grabbed the door handle and ripped it open. The moment Grant’s eyes locked with Kelis’s pretty blues, he thought he must have died and gone to heaven, bypassing all that repentance nonsense.
The mission break had gotten a whole lot more interesting all of a sudden.
CHAPTER NINE
Grim
For the first few seconds, he couldn’t get a word out. There she was, the woman who had both haunted and graced his dreams since the one night they’d spent together. Kelis Murdoch, looking more mouthwatering than ever.
Her blonde hair was set in a loose braid, hanging off one shoulder, and her curvy physique looked soft and lovely, some of the hard edges of muscle he remembered turned gentler, but that only meant she excited his cougar more. The animal was scratching at him, trying to claw its way out, no doubt to fucking pounce on Kelis where she stood.
The good thing was, she looked as surprised to see them as Grim was to see her. The bad thing was she scowled at the sight of them, though for the briefest moment he could see the makings of a smile on her lips, before she apparently realized whose presence she was in.
It was only then that Grim found himself having any attention to spare to the other person in the room. His blood ran cold immediately.
Spade. Of course it has to be him, he thought, feeling his hands tuck into heavy fists and his eyes narrow.
“Gentlemen. What a treat. I wasn’t expecting to see you in the building at this time,” Spade said, his tone betraying nothing about whether or not he was actually surprised.
“Yeah, well, I wasn’t expecting to see any cockroaches skittering around either, so I guess we’re both in for a disappointing evening,” Grim growled, feeling his brother simmering in a similar level of displeasure behind him.
“There now, boys, play nice. We’re in the presence of a lady, after all. I believe you remember Kelis Murdoch. Kelis, Grant and Grim Aldroch. You might remember them as two of the six chumps who almost got you killed on that airplane,” Spade said, a sweet smile on his lips, inclining his head slightly.
Kelis’s mouth opened for a moment, like she was searching for words and not finding any, and then she closed those pretty, cherry-red lips again to just nod blankly.
“I remember,” she said, looking like she was staring at two ghosts, or maybe a pair of sharks come to rip her to shreds.
What the fuck?
Confusion trundled through Grim and he looked back at Grant, who seemed no wiser. Grim could have racked his brain as much as he pleased, but he was sure he couldn’t come up with a single thing that would have caused Kelis to give them the kind of greeting she was now. Their night together was one of the fondest memories Grim had ever made, and though he hadn’t talked to Grant much about it later, he knew his brother had to hold it in his mind equally as dearly.
Kelis had been the first and only woman so far that Grim had felt a strong emotional connection to. His heart constricted on itself, pressing smaller in his chest, seeing her almost indifferent reaction to him now. She had everything he wanted in a woman. The brains, the attitude, the beauty, and the mouth on her could put most soldiers to shame if she wanted to. And now his dream woman
was looking at him like she would have rather been anywhere else.
It fucking stung.
“What are you doing here?” Grant asked after a small pause, and Grim wasn’t sure who it was directed to, Spade or Kelis.
It probably didn’t matter. Grim released his fist, taking a breath to chill his fraying nerves in an attempt to get a handle on himself. There was no use in making a fool out of himself, after all. The bad boy cougar stood up straighter, rising to his full height, as tall as Spade was, and crossed his arms over his chest as he flicked his gaze between Kelis and his least favorite Firm operative.
“Not that that’s any of your concern, but we had some business with Miss Murdoch. I trust we can consider it finished now, yes, Kelis?” Spade said, giving Kelis an expectant look.
She nodded begrudgingly, the slightest tilt of her chin, the life draining out of her eyes as she met his gaze. It chilled Grim to the bone, seeing her react that way. Immediately, he knew something foul was going on here, but true to form, Spade wouldn’t give him any clues without something to bargain for. Spade was well known with the men of Shifter Squad Six. Every single one of them had a bone to pick with him one way or another, and somehow, all of them had so far resisted the urge to pound his face into the gravel.
Grim wasn’t so sure if he could keep himself on that list for much longer if he’d done something to Kelis.
“Anyway, I’ll leave you three to get reacquainted. I’m sure you have great stories about that one scar you got during the mission. I’ll talk to you soon, Kelis. Behave yourself,” Spade said, the makings of a purr in his voice, probably the closest thing to affection he’d ever heard coming out of the slab of ice masquerading as a human being.
