by Tena Stetler
“Great. A good place to be, impossible to lurk, especially on such short notice.” He paused, cleared his throat. “Or should be. Other plans?”
“Yeah.” He set out the plans as discussed with Hannah. “I’d like to keep Ruben with us and rotate the newer men daily. Do you want to be included in the planning session for taking down our enemy?”
“Nope. Keep me informed. If anything changes on this end, you’ll be the first to know.”
Tristian ended the call and turned to her. “Ready to call it a night, or do you need a midnight snack?”
****
Up before dawn, Tristian and Hannah wolfed down a couple of bagels with egg and cheese, orange juice, tea, and coffee. The salon limo took them to catch the Metrorail at Federal Triangle. The driver said, “I’ve other pickups but should be back long before you are ready to return. You have my cell, in any event.”
Tristian nodded, grabbed Hannah’s free hand, and hurried through the rain. Dressed in black pants, boots, and a deep maroon sweater, he stood at the visitors’ entrance to the White House, his arm lightly wrapped around Hannah’s waist. She shook out the brightly colored umbrella, then folded it up. Her pink and blue striped sweater remained dry, but the black ankle boots and light blue slacks were damp from the rain. Three other couples waited behind them when two men dressed in dark suits greeted the group.
“Good morning and welcome. My name is Rob.” He pointed to the other gentleman. “And this is Adam. We’ll be your guides for today.”
Tristian took his driver’s license from his pocket and nodded to Hannah as she held on to her passport tightly. She handed it to one of the men, who looked at her then back at her passport.
“Irish citizen, huh?” He glanced at the passport again and flipped through the pages then turned it over in his hands.
“Yes, sir. But I work…”
“We are taking in the sights before returning to work in Maine,” Tristian said smoothly surveying the room, then smiled at a tall, red-haired man hurrying toward them.
“Sorry, I’m late. These two are special guests and have been vetted already.” The man motioned toward Tristian and Hannah while reaching for their ID’s from the guide.
Adam hesitated a couple of beats, narrowed his eyes then shrugged, handing the ID’s to the man. “No one told us about special guests,” he murmured to Rob who made a sound of agreement.
Tristian nodded to the red-haired man. “Hannah, this is Stan, he works in the Chief of Staff’s office.” Tristian turned his attention to Stan. “Any problems with the luncheon arrangements?”
Stan smiled. “None at all. Should have sunshine by the time the tour is complete. You can go ahead with the group. I’ll meet up with you in the Rose Garden after your tour. Enjoy.” He turned on his heel and strode down the hallway.
They joined the group and toured the first floor. The guide turned to glance at them and continued with her speech. “The first floor of the White House Residence is known as the “State Floor,” because this is where formal receptions of state are held.”
Tristian found it interesting that this floor was at the same level as the second floor of the West Wing and the East Wing. The Residence seemed to sit on higher ground. He studied the bust of Abraham Lincoln, while Hannah stared out the huge windows.
“How do they maintain security with all this glass?” she whispered to him.
He shrugged. “Bullet-proof glass?”
She glared at him. “Be serious.”
“I am.” He grinned. “Okay, maybe there’s a bit more going on here than simple mortal security.”
“That would explain a lot.” Hannah snickered.
Next stop, the library decorated in red and gold, she found the room fascinating. But in another room on the first floor, she smiled at the dishes displayed for each administration. “That’s a lot of dishes to keep clean.” She pointed to the glass cases displaying the tableware, then slipped her hand into Tristian’s.
He trailed behind her when the view from the yellow oval room’s balcony held Hannah’s attention. The tour guide frowned. “Keep up. The second and third floors contain the first family’s private quarters as well as guest entertainment areas.”
Waiting until Tristian and Hannah passed by, the tour guide pointed down the hall. “Now for the West Wing, which has expanded and undergone several renovations since 1908, the year it was built.” The guide droned on. “During that time, Teddy Roosevelt moved his office from the second floor to the oval office where it has remained the official workplace of the President.”
At this point, Tristian and Hannah left the rest of the group to meet Stan in the Rose Garden. A table for two was prepared with lunch waiting for them. Tristian held Hannah’s chair for her and smiled at her awe-struck look. “The food will get cold if you continue to stare at your surroundings.”
“This is where they hold state dinners. How did you? How?” She glanced at Stan as he stood talking with the wait staff. “Are you trying to impress me?” She drew in a breath and coyly looked up at him from under her long red lashes.
“Is it working?” he asked, as her wide smile reached to her beautiful cornflower blue eyes.
“Yes.” She took her cloth napkin and delicately placed it in her lap. The rain clouds from earlier gave way to a few fluffy white clouds and a pleasant light breeze tousled her hair.
Tristian picked up his chair, which sat across from Hannah, and set it beside her. His hand gently brushed down her arm while he eased into the chair and spread a napkin in his lap. Stabbing a fork into a bite of salad, he surveyed the area for threats. Their conversation was light as they finished their meal. Dessert was a delicious piece of cherry pie with a large scoop of ice cream. Looking at it made his mouth water.
Before Hannah spooned up a bite of pie and ice cream she giggled. “Does this have anything to do with the fact that George Washington was purported to have chopped down a cherry tree?”
Tristian chuckled. “And couldn’t tell a lie? But that’s all hearsay you know.” He said playfully, surprised that his usually serious demeanor gave way to relaxed and playful nature when he was with Hannah. He couldn’t remember feeling like this since…in a very long time. “If you’re finished with lunch, I’ll call the limo, and we’ll head over to the International Spy Museum.”
“Now that sounds like fun.” She touched the napkin to her mouth, put it on the table, and stood. “I’d like to walk around the garden a bit before we leave.”
“Sounds like a plan. Stan is on his way. We’ll stretch our legs in the garden before hoofing it over to the Metrorail to meet the limo.”
Before long Tristian and Hannah were whisked away in the limo on their way to the Spy Museum. Inside they discovered a museum dedicated to how espionage and spies shaped the course of history from Roman and Greek Empires through the Cold War to present day.
Hannah looked over the interactive spy experience offered by the museum. “I’d like to try being an undercover agent and work with a team, solving puzzles, and completing tasks in an effort to intercept a secret arms deal. Maybe prevent nuclear war?” She giggled softly behind her hand.
With a butterscotch brow raised, Tristian snorted. “Really? Not enough real life intrigue?” he whispered, his lips skimming the soft shell of her ear. She shivered against him as her cheeks heated. “Like my undivided attention?” he said, lips brushing against her throat.
She pulled way and narrowed her eyes at him. “Not here… This will be fun.”
“For who? I don’t think my men would agree. But…if you insist. Stay alert.”
“Always.”
After the sixty minutes of playing secret agent were up, Hannah not only intercepted the secret arms deal but prevented nuclear weapons from getting into the wrong hands.”
“You are a natural. Let’s head back and get ready for the Kennedy Center musical extravaganza this evening. We have dinner reservations at seven.”
“We have plenty of time.
” She laughed. “I want to do the Spy in the City experience.”
“No. Too hard for the men to keep track of us.”
“Please…” Hannah wheedled. “I haven’t had this much fun in ages.”
Tristian paced the floor and talked into his earpiece. His thunderous expression smoothed into a thoughtful one as he turned to her and whispered, “Okay, Ruben thinks he can hack into the specialized GPS device used to guide us to hidden clues in the area surrounding the museum. If he can, then we’ll do it. If not, too risky.”
“Super. We can do the one-hour operation.”
“Then I have your word, no more spy games.”
“Yes, sir.” Hannah snickered and rushed over to sign up for the next one-hour circuit of operation. Once she had the GPS in hand, she glanced at Tristian.
Listening intently, he nodded. “He’s in.”
“Gee double espionage,” she said quietly.
“Shhh…off we go.”
An hour later they had the password for a secret weapon, and the game was over. A man at the counter said, “Well played. Been here before?”
“Nope, spy—”
“Just lucky. We had a great time.” He took Hannah by the elbow and led her out of the building into the waiting limo.
“I was only going to say spying was fun.” She huffed.
“Couldn’t risk you would say something else. Loose lips and all.” He pushed the button on the side of the door, a partition between them and the driver went up, then he muted his earpiece.
She bristled. “I would never compromise…” Hannah glanced at the smirk on his lips and reached out to slap at him.
“Too slow.” He grasped her wrist and pulled her to him, brought his lips down on hers in a feather light touch with tantalizing persuasion. She moaned softly against his lips and quivered as his fingers danced along the side of her breast, ribs, and hip. He reveled in her softness and reactions to his ministrations. I want her. I’ve got to get to the bottom of why she won’t share my bed.
She wrapped an arm around his neck caressing the tendons in the back of his neck, fingers running through his hair. He trailed kisses across her jawline and inside the neckline of her low-cut sweater where his tongue dipped between her soft mounds, she arched up to him, giving him more access. His fingers slipped under the waistband of her pants and traced a sensuous path to ecstasy.
Chapter Eleven
An Unexpected Twist with Deadly Consequences
Hannah stepped out of the limo and sucked in a breath as she stared at D.C.’s foremost performing arts center. She’d read somewhere that it was divided into three main theaters and five smaller venues. But she was not prepared for the enormous location. While attending college, her roommates had insisted they watch the lighting of the Christmas tree at Kennedy Center, but…she blew out a breath.
“Our show is in the Concert Hall. It’s this way.” Tristian gently slid his arm around her waist, hand at the small of her back, and guided her forward. Once seated in the premier seating, he glanced around to locate his men.
“Everything all right?” Hannah asked, following his gaze to behind their box seats.
“Yes, verifying our security. No threats. We can enjoy the show.”
At the end of the evening, Hannah stood to follow the crowd out.
“This way, doll. We have a couple of hours. I’d like to take you to the rooftop terrace. From up there under the full moon, we can see the Lincoln Memorial, George Washington University, Watergate Complex, and the outstanding city skyline. But you have to promise me not to fly off.”
She elbowed him in the ribs. “Oh my—It’s gorgeous. Everything looks so different lit up in the night. And look at the hauntingly beautiful full moon.”
“Full moons are for lovers.”
“Which we are not.”
“Oh, I wouldn’t say that. We need to talk about your—our problem,” he whispered against her neck as his warm lips breathed a kiss against her skin.
A shiver of hot desire zinged up her body and down to her very core. I don’t know how much longer I can resist. I want him as badly as he desires me. But the consequences…
“Let’s go check out the restaurant before it closes.” His lips curved up into a teasing and sensuous smile. One that fanned the flames of her desire as she leaned into him, felt his arousal against her.
Her pulse raced even as he pulled away, took her hand and guided her in front of him to the restaurant.
****
The next morning, they toured the Lincoln Memorial, paused for pictures, then spent the rest of the day at the Library of Congress. Tristian patiently waited as Hannah poured over the books available. By the third day, Tristian and his men had yet to see any suspicious activity. Perhaps Rezar’s men were still with him, out of the country, but it didn’t make sense not to post guards. Hannah gave the situation a fleeting thought, as she got ready for the United States Botanic Garden tour. Tristian looked forward to this tour the most. She could feel it. His love of gardening and plants seemed at odds with the persona of a tough guy he presented. She knew better. The man was caring, gentle but protective which was at war with the assassin he was. The tangle of personalities was what he didn’t want anyone to see. But deep inside, she felt his turmoil and was determined to support and love him, regardless of the requirements of her kind. I guess I’ve made my decision. Ma and Da I’m sorry. Forgive me. She looked up and blew out a breath.
Tristian turned and peered down at the concern etched on her face. “Is something wrong?”
“No, no, not at all. The sound of the fountains splashing inside and the lighted ones outside are magnificent. The fragrant flowers are all so beautiful. I’d love to have a glass greenhouse like this.” She spun around in a full circle, arms out, as air whooshed out of her.
“I suppose you want the two courtyard gardens with streams and fountains as well?”
She nodded. “It’s not much for a powerful…”
He put his index finger to her lips. “I’m afraid I’d have to draw the line at the ten garden rooms under the glass.” Tristian smiled, intertwining his fingers in hers and continued down the winding pathway.
By midafternoon Tristian stopped and pulled out his phone to check the time. “Let’s find somewhere to get a bite to eat.” As he was about to slide his phone back into his pocket, it rang. He looked at the caller ID and touched the screen. “Hi—what—I’ll be right there. Call in all teams, I want to pick those accompanying me. Wheels up in less than an hour.” His jaw set in a firm line, color draining out of his face, he stared at Hannah. “We have to go. Now.” At a fast walk, he tugged her through the crowd and out the first door he came to. They sprinted toward the waiting limo. In between gasps for air, Tristian filled her in. “Angie’s been snatched from the dream world. The Vampire Council’s assassin has located her inside an isolated cabin in Cherryfield, Maine. He has eyes on her as we speak. Lady Rose has commanded him to wait for our arrival.” He yanked opened the limo door and shoved Hannah inside, slid in beside her, and slammed the door. The driver hit the gas.
“Why don’t you port to the Salon?” She pulled her jacket around her and shifted to look at him. “Wouldn’t it be faster?”
“Because we don’t know who is watching and could be intercepted in between while we port. We’d be extremely vulnerable until we reached The Wycked Hair Salon. Not willing to risk you.”
“What? I don’t understand. I can take care of myself.” She bristled, squared her shoulders.
He snorted. “You don’t have to.” He took a deep breath, his voice calmed. “I need you to stay at the Salon with Tobi and Owen. They’ll take you back to the apartment when it’s deemed safe. I’ll meet you there when this is all over.”
For the second time in Hannah’s life, she had no idea what was going on and no control. She shivered as fear closed in. “How long will you be gone? You’re not completely healed from your last altercation. How do you snatch someone from his or her
dreams? That is what you mean?” Hannah asked. She’d never felt so helpless, so…
“Indeed, it is. Angie is a seer in addition to her other talents. Rezar must have invaded her dreams, separating her spirit from her body. A dangerous situation.” The limo slowed to a stop in front of The Wycked Hair Salon. Owen yanked open the door. Tristian bounded out of the vehicle. After two steps he turned, hurriedly leaned in, grasping Hannah’s hand, and gave a tug that sent her flying out of the limo and into his arms. “Sorry. Need to get inside.”
****
Once in the Salon, Tristian took command, calmly issuing orders and setting in motion the plans he’d established, tweaking it as necessary. In the middle of the well-ordered departure, his phone rang. “Bruce. We’re on our way out. Anything new.” Tristian nodded. “I’ll get back to you when I know more. You’re going to wait there to help her return to her body once I free her.”
“Yes,” Bruce said tersely, filling Tristian in with the circumstances as he understood them concerning the Vampire Council and its assassin, Stefan.
“Good. I’ll be in touch.” Tristian ended the call, turned quickly to locate Hannah. Strode to her and grasped her by the shoulders. “Do as Tobi and Owen tell you; I’ll be back soon.” He pulled her to him hard and brought his mouth down on hers; the kiss was urgent. “I—I—” He cursed. “I’ll be back.” He couldn’t get the words out he wanted to say. They’d have to wait until he returned.
On the plane, he went over the plans in his head. Once airborne, he paced, playing out alternate scenarios. Bringing someone back from the dream world wasn’t something he’d done often, actually never. Fury raged inside him, he tamped it down. Emotions had no place in his profession. Anger had nearly gotten him killed a short time ago. A lesson he’d not soon forget. After what seemed like hours, the seatbelt warning sign lit up. Tristian plopped down in a seat and fastened his belt. The plane taxied to a stop and the group hustled out the door and into the waiting vehicles. The sun dropped down behind the horizon. It would be dark soon, better cover for the rescue.
