by Jaci Burton
Disbelief warred with certainty. It couldn’t be this easy. Could Midnight have been referring to her St. Joseph’s? The old church was only a half block from the warehouse. Not that he’d know it was her former church. But the more she thought about it, the more sense it made.
He’d said “green” too. The warehouse had green lettering on the sign at the front gate.
Coincidence? Maybe. Maybe not.
She shifted into park and took a quick peek out each side of the vehicle. Completely deserted. Who wandered around in a place like this at one in the morning anyway?
Maybe NCA field agents did. And she was almost a field agent. Would be, officially, on Monday. She could almost hear the gears clicking excitedly in her head. What a great way to prove herself. Rescue one of the NCA’s best agents.
No, Nevada. Dumb idea. Get back in your car, go to a pay phone and let the experts handle this.
Maybe if she sat a minute, really thought it out, this ridiculous Nevada-to-the-rescue idea would scatter. It didn’t. And if she didn’t follow through now that she was here, she’d kick herself all night. If she found something, she’d just run to a phone and call it in.
Simple, right?
She pulled up to the side of the warehouse and parked near the lower-level window. It looked deserted, exactly as it had been when she and her friends set up their clubhouse. Shattered, bar-covered windows stretched before her, the worn brick structure’s five stories not nearly as imposing now as they had been to a girl of ten.
This is stupid. Go to a phone, call the agency and let someone else check it out.
But what if she was wrong? She’d look like an idiot, or even worse. Not a good first impression for a recently promoted field agent. Nothing like shouting fire and having the troops amass, only to discover an empty warehouse filled with nothing but rats.
Blowing out a breath to calm her nerves, she hooked her keys onto the ring outside her mini-backpack and got out of the car, slinging the backpack behind her.
She was leaving the car unlocked, in case she spotted something or someone. She wanted to be able to get in the car and take off as fast as she could. She might be about to become a field agent, but she was certainly no expert.
In the gloom of darkness, the place gave her the creeps. She was certifiably insane for even thinking about doing something like this. With a resigned sigh, she squatted down and peered in the basement window.
Nothing. Feeling more idiotic by the minute, she started to get up when a reflection in the window caught her eye.
Was that a light? Chills popped out on her arms and neck despite the still-lingering heat. She focused on that same spot and didn’t have to wait long. There it was again. A flicker, a shadow of light. Fleeting, but there nonetheless.
It had come from the air vent across the lower level. The air vent leading to the underground structure. An oversized, empty room where she and her friends had played for hours. A quick crawl through the vent in the basement. She didn’t dare risk going to the other side of the building and entering the lower level through the driveway. There might be someone on the other side. This side was dark and she could easily slip in without being seen.
She chewed her lower lip, knowing she should just go make a phone call, but something about the urgency of Midnight’s call spurred her on. It wouldn’t hurt to take a quick peek. She’d been in this place a million times as a kid. Chances were it was still as empty now as it had been then, so really, she was risking nothing by taking a look.
Maybe somebody rented the place and was in there working. So she’d go in and check it out. If it was nothing, she’d go home. If it wasn’t, she’d get the hell out of here and make the call to the NCA.
The window was more difficult to open now than it had been sixteen years ago, but Nevada pulled with both hands until it gave with a creak. Thankful she’d worn her black capri pants to work tonight, she slid in legs first and slipped down through the narrow opening.
It was dark and musty. She wrinkled her nose at the stale air and brushed away the cobwebs tangling themselves in her hair. She felt her way across the room, using the old metal desk as her guide. It had been a long time but she still remembered the way. Only a few steps to the vent along the inside wall.
Found it! With a remembered sense of childhood intrigue, she pulled the screened cover off the air vent and climbed inside.
Just a short crawl to the other side of the vent. Mumbling prayers that she wouldn’t run into any angry spiders in the long-unused tunnel, she slowly made her way to the end, careful not to make a sound. When she reached the mesh screen at the end of the vent, she was shocked at the activity in the supposedly empty warehouse.
An unmarked semi took up most of the space in the middle of the brightly lit room. She counted at least ten men loading some kind of lab equipment into the truck. What was going on? There were no cars parked outside the building. Her gut feeling told her no one was supposed to be in here.
Then again, it could be exactly as she thought. Some business had rented the old warehouse and she’d analyzed Midnight’s codes wrong. Relief that she hadn’t called in the big guns washed over her.
Her vantage point was limited because the vent sat at ground level. But the semi’s tractor was perpendicular to her line of vision, giving her a clear view of the undercarriage.
She smothered a gasp as she spotted a man clinging to the underside of the truck. She couldn’t see his face in the shadows, but the outline of his body was clear.
Now that sure as hell wasn’t normal!
Was that Midnight? And if not, then who was it? Now what was she supposed to do?
Make the call. That’s what she should do. The only logical option was to crawl out the way she came in, get to a phone and call the agency. She wasn’t a field agent yet and could hardly defend herself with a tube of lipstick and a miniature flashlight.
Feeling ridiculous, she began to scoot backwards when suddenly the men closed up the back of the truck, turned out the lights and exited the room.
Pitch-black. She couldn’t see a thing, not that she needed to in order to get out of the vent. Now what? Leave? What if the man under the truck was Midnight? Whoever he was, he was hiding from those other men. But was he the bad guy? Or were the others?
It had to be Midnight. Who else could it be? It made sense now, all of the codes he’d given her. She nodded in the darkness, more certain than ever that the man was an NCA agent.
And here she was, only a few feet away from him, poised to provide him a safe way out. How thrilling would that be? She’d be the one to rescue him. She’d already come this far. It didn’t make sense to pull out now. Not when she could easily show him the way out.
But, how to get his attention?
The flashlight!
Maneuvering onto her side, she grabbed her bag, fumbling inside until her fingers closed around the cool metal of the tiny flashlight. She focused it against the vent screen, praying that none of the men she’d seen earlier were planted in the dark as guardians over the truck.
She flicked the switch on the flashlight. Nothing happened. She clicked it again, on and off, on and off. The battery was dead. Great. Now what?
She hesitated yelling his name on the off chance someone could hear her. Besides, what if wasn’t even him?
Quit thinking that way. It is him.
As quietly as she could, she pushed at the mesh covering. It flew off with a loud clang. Nevada cringed at the sound, her body freezing to a standstill.
What to do now? That sound was loud enough to wake the dead, let alone the living on the other side of the door. Figuring she was already in the room, she quickly scurried ahead. She stayed low, crawling on her hands and knees, hoping she could remember the distance to the truck.
Throwing her hand out in front of her, she felt for the truck.
Almost there, just a few more feet and…
Suddenly she was on her back on the cold cement floor. A big, hard body
had slammed on top of her. She was pinned! Unable to move. A prisoner. A small scream escaped her lips before a hand clamped down over her mouth.
His sharp whisper hissed in her ear. “Shut the fuck up or you’re dead.”
Panic rose like a bubbling pot. Her body shook with fear. Adrenaline pumped through her system, setting off a fight response. She kicked futilely against him, trying to wriggle free of the heavy body imprisoning her.
“Stop struggling!” His hand moved slightly away from her mouth.
She continued to fight, biting down hard on his hand.
“Sonofabitch!” he hissed.
When he jerked his hand away she opened her mouth and sucked in oxygen, readying her lungs for another scream, when sharp, cold steel pressed against her throat.
“You make one sound, you take a bullet.”
She couldn’t see a thing, but she knew that voice. Relief flooded her. “Midnight?” she whispered.
She heard his quick inhalation.
“Who the hell are you?”
“It’s…it’s Velvet from the Agency.” Her voice quaked, not sounding anything like she normally did. Please, please believe me.
“Velvet?”
“Yes.”
“Goddammit! What are you doing here?”
The terror began to subside about the same time he removed the gun from her neck. She took a few quick breaths and forced herself to calm down. “I was passing by on my way home. Your codes suddenly made sense. I know this place, and I…I thought I’d check it out.”
He uttered a curse. “Of all the stupid, dumbass ideas.”
He was right. It was stupid. But he could at least be grateful she’d come to rescue him. “Look, I understand you’re upset. But if you’d just—”
The lights flipped on and she turned her head toward the front door to the warehouse. She saw feet. Running feet. A bunch of them. The familiar panic returned, only ten times worse. They’d been seen!
Without warning, strong hands yanked her up, pushing against her back. “Run!”
She literally ran for her life, Midnight right on her heels. She barely paused when she got to the vent and vaulted inside, scrambling on her hands and knees as fast as she could toward the opening into the basement.
They’re coming! She knew it wouldn’t take them long to find out where the vent exited, unless they were following behind them right now. All she could hear was the sound of her knees pounding against the metal of the vent.
She had already climbed the table under the window when Midnight came out of the vent. She pulled herself up, crawled out and headed to her car, reaching for her keys. Oh God, her backpack! She felt around and looked on the ground beside her.
Midnight’s feet crunched on the gravel behind her. “Get in the damn car!”
She stopped and searched the ground around her. Panic and desperate fear choked her. “My bag! I can’t find it! My keys are in there!”
“What bag?”
“Tiny little backpack. Had my keys attached to it.”
“What a fuckin’ disaster.” He muttered obscenities under his breath, shoved her in the passenger seat and ran around to the driver’s side. Pulling what looked like a small metal hammer out of his jeans pocket, he slid into the seat and punched the ignition out.
A few seconds later, the engine roared to life. Thank God he was quick. She looked out the side mirror. Their pursuers were approaching quickly from the side of the building.
Hurry up and drive! She prayed they wouldn’t be killed.
With tires screeching, he peeled out of the parking lot.
They had no sooner flown out of the parking area when she heard a series of loud pops. Oh dear God, please not a flat!
“Get down!” Midnight yelled. With a rough grasp he grabbed the back of her neck and pushed her head toward her knees.
“I thought that was a tire!”
“Not a tire,” he said sharply as they drove quickly down the dark, deserted street.
If it wasn’t a tire, then…“It was a gunshot! “They’re shooting at us!”
“No shit! Keep your head down!”
She didn’t want to die here. Not like this. Bile rose in her throat and she quickly tamped it down. Not now. Deep breaths. Keep calm. She tried to keep her inhales and exhales slow and steady.
After a series of careening turns and screeching tires, he said, “I’ve lost them. You can sit up now.” His voice had calmed, but her nerves hadn’t.
With her head buried against her knees and everything that transpired in the warehouse, she still hadn’t seen what he looked like. It had been pitch-black in there, her sense of sight useless. And when the lights abruptly came on, she didn’t even have time to focus before they ran for the vent. All she knew of him was his voice. She pulled her hair off her face and finally got a look at the man known only as Midnight.
Wow. Almost exactly as she had imagined. The streetlights outside shined on hair the color of his code name. A couple days’ growth of beard covered a strong jaw. He threw a glance at her and she sucked in a breath. His eyes were as sexy as his voice. Dark and forbidding.
“Do you have a cell phone?” he asked.
“Huh?”
His forehead wrinkled when he frowned. “A cell phone. You know, a telephone that goes with you?”
“I know what it is and no, I don’t have one.”
“Who in this day and age doesn’t have a cell phone? Hell, even ten-year-olds have them.”
“I don’t.” Who was she going to call with one? Her own voice mail? Then she remembered. “My bag! I have to have my bag!”
“Well you obviously don’t have it or we’d have had keys to the car. Did you have it in the air vent?”
“Yes.”
“How about when you crawled out of the vent into the warehouse?”
She nodded, biting her lower lip, and then remembered. “I must have lost it when you threw me on the floor of the warehouse.” Oh, God. She was such an idiot!
“Great. Just great.” He quickly pulled into a convenience store, jumped out and made a call from the pay phone. He’d left the driver’s door open; she could hear him arguing.
“Hey, it’s not my fault she’s here! Why the hell couldn’t any of your people find me?”
He had to be talking to the commander. There went her field agent job.
Because she had no more business playing agent than a ten-year-old with a cell phone. Mortified, she sank into the seat.
“This is a joke, right?” He paced the length of the phone cord and back, sliding a hand through his hair. “I will not!” His brows furrowed in a way already familiar to her. “Like hell, I will!” More pacing, stretching the cord as far as it would go. “You’ve got to be kidding. Why can’t someone else do it? I’m in the middle of a goddamn case here!”
After a long pause and a disgusted sigh, he shook his head. “You’re the boss. But this is a really stupid idea.” He ended the call abruptly. Without a word, he got back in the car, slammed the door shut and drove away.
She couldn’t stand the silence for long, but was too afraid to ask about his phone conversation. “We don’t even know each other’s real names.”
“So?” His lips clamped together and she could swear she heard him grind his teeth.
“My name is Nevada. Nevada James.”
No answer.
“And yours?”
Still no answer.
“I guess I’ll just continue to call you Midnight, then.”
“Tyler Call.”
Sexy name. She’d gotten a decent look at his body under the lights of the pay phone, and it more than matched her fantasies. Dark jeans hugged well-proportioned thighs, and broad shoulders fit snugly in his T-shirt.
“Are you taking me home?” She was tired, needed a bath and probably several glasses of wine. What a night it had been.
“I wish,” he said with a caustic laugh.
Was he laughing at her? “What’s so funny?”
The thought of those men waiting at her apartment conjured up violent images that started her body shaking again. She crossed her arms, squeezing them tight.
Field agents don’t fear, Nevada. Get a grip! “Okay. Now what happens?”
Tyler exhaled in a frustrated sigh. “Despite my opinion of this disaster, the commander thinks it showed initiative on your part.”
She hadn’t expected that and didn’t even try to hide the smile that formed on her lips. “He did?”
He shot her a less than amused look. “Apparently.”
“What does that mean?”
His hands clenched the steering wheel with a death grip as he looked straight ahead. “It means I just became your training officer. And, for the time being, you’re my houseguest.”
Chapter Two
Nevada swallowed, her throat gone dry. “Houseguest? What do you mean by that?”
Tyler didn’t even look at her. “You heard me. And I don’t like the idea any better than you do.”
Oh, hell. Of course she couldn’t go home. Her identification, keys, everything personal about her was in her bag. Thank God she didn’t have pets or anyone at home waiting for her, otherwise they’d be in danger, too. Her little rented house and all her belongings were the only things she had. And if they got in and rifled through her things, a thought that made her shudder violently, they wouldn’t find anything.
Except her NCA ID card.
She should have made the phone call.
“I don’t understand. Why can’t you take me to a hotel or a safe house instead?”
“Are you listening? I said you have to go with me.”
She didn’t know what to say. This whole night had been surreal. Why couldn’t she have just driven home and left her dumb ideas in her head, where they belonged?
