Flash of Fury

by Lea Griffith

  She’d become important to him.

  He didn’t contact Loretta. She was a dead end now. Indeed, she had her own agenda, and while she might care for Allie, care what happened to her, Loretta’s and King’s objectives didn’t align enough for him to keep her in the loop.

  He gave a passing thought to contacting Broemig but discarded it as soon as it popped into his head. No doubt Loretta had already been in contact with Allie’s dad. Instead, King boarded his plane, stowed his carry-on duffel, and waited for Rook to call him.

  An hour into his flight, the call came through. “She’s landed. Knight’s man has her and is transporting her to the closest hotel. There was a tagalong for a few miles, but they drifted away.”

  “Tell Knight not to engage,” King ordered.

  “Already done,” Rook said with a sigh. “I know how this game is played, King.”

  King groaned. “I know you do, Rook, but she’s…”

  Rook snickered. “She’s what? Important?”

  “She’s what she is. If Knight’s man harms her or she’s hurt on his watch, I’ll gut his ass. Groin to throat. He’ll never see me coming. Tell him, Rook. Warn him.”

  “Never thought I’d see the day King McNally took a nosedive.”

  “This coming from the man who can’t keep his woman in one place.”

  “Goddamn woman is gonna be the death of me, McNally,” Rook said, and his voice rang with both irritation and fondness.

  “Savidge is in Beirut. Have you located Dresden?”

  “Not yet. But we’re close. I’m locked up with Vivi. He makes a move toward my woman, I’ve got a bullet with his name on it,” Rook promised. “Hey, have you talked to Jude or Chase?”

  “Chase is back in Burundi following a lead. Jude is working with Black and was just in Serbia with me. We had a helluva lead on Savidge, but then Ms. Redding hit the high road. I made a promise that overrides my desire to have Savidge’s head under my gun. But make no mistake, Rook, Jude could go rogue at any minute. He’s keeping his eye on Savidge right now, but I’m worried. Word is Ella-Bella didn’t kick the bucket when we went boom in Beirut. Heard those rumors?”

  “I have. In my bones, I know he’s been chasing after her between jobs, Your Highness.”

  “If Jude has even an inkling she’s alive, he’ll go in guns blazing and blow this whole thing to smithereens.”

  Silence stretched between them before Rook asked, “Have you given any thought to using your woman as a pawn?”

  King growled. “She isn’t my woman, Rook. She’s an operation. I thought she was Savidge’s courier. Found out she’s Broemig’s daughter. If you think I hadn’t given that some thought, you’re stupider than I gave you credit for.”

  “Yeah, yeah, yeah, I hear you. You might want to give that some more thought before you do it. Broemig is a straight-up killer. You’ll be on his shit list forever if you use her and it doesn’t pan out. Hell, if it works out, you’ll still be on his shit list. Could make holidays rough.” Rook paused. King rolled his eyes before the man started up again. “Speaking of panning out, Vivi traced back a trail that leads pretty high into the White.”

  Holidays? King had only recently admitted to himself he liked Allie, and Rook was talking about them having holidays together? Oh, who was he kidding? He way more than liked her. He pushed those thoughts aside for now.

  “Damn,” King breathed out. The White was code for the White House. “Is she following it?”

  “Yeah, man. We ain’t stupid. Did you bump your head really hard when we crashed that helo?”

  King’s lips curved. How many smiles did that make since he’d met Allie? Ten? Twenty? She was changing him. “I’m out. Watch your six, shoot to kill.”

  Rook laughed then. “Don’t be brave, be accurate.”

  “Hooyah,” King said softly before he hung up and leaned his head back. He glanced at his MTM tactical watch and noticed he had another five hours in this flight.

  He closed his eyes. Maybe he could get some rest, but chances were slim. Worry had lodged in his gut, and it was churning. He couldn’t see her, wasn’t there to protect her. It was unacceptable.

  Because she’d become something more to him than part of a mission.

  And that too was unacceptable.

  Chapter 17

  The sun in Allie’s eyes woke her. She didn’t remember falling asleep. The cabbie she’d flagged down outside the Madrid airport had brought her here after telling her the American Embassy was closed and wouldn’t reopen until the morning. She knew she could get in—just walk up to the gate and request entrance from the Marines on guard. But there were pieces to this puzzle that didn’t add up.

  Something in her gut told her to wait. So she’d allowed the cabbie to bring her here after he’d told her it was the best hotel in Madrid and she would love it. He spoke fluent English, but it was flavored with an accent she couldn’t place.

  He’d been nice though and gotten her to the Westin Palace quickly. She’d checked in with no problems using the Dara Filipovic identity. She’d paid in cash for one night. The less attention she drew to herself, the better off she was. It was only for one night, and she was sure that she could make it to the embassy in the morning. She’d been hurting and tired, so as soon as she’d closed the door and locked it, she’d found the bed, crawled on it, and fallen asleep.

  Now, she pushed her heavy hair from her face and groaned. Her side pulled ever so slightly but no longer hurt. She had to pee like a racehorse, and she was hungry. Allie sat up gingerly and slid off the bed, coming to her feet. She padded slowly to the bathroom and handled her business before wetting a rag and washing her face. Once she’d brushed her teeth with the courtesy brush and paste, she returned to the bedroom, walking to the windows and becoming entranced with the gorgeous view of Madrid. It took several moments before a chill swept over her skin. Something was off.

  She started to turn around, but an arm around her chest brought her against a hard body. Then she smelled it…evergreen and mint. That smell prevented her from struggling against the man who held her firmly but not so tight he was hurting her.

  “You found me,” she said on a heavy sigh.

  “Looks that way.”

  “You can’t keep me, King. I’m an American citizen. I have rights,” she stated even as her body relaxed into the heat of his.

  He’d found her. She wanted to smack her head. She’d made it easy by using the Dara Filipovic name. Bonehead move, Redding. And he was here now. Part of her was wary, part of her was angry, but the biggest part of Allie was…relieved.

  His warm breath feathered over her ear, sliding down her neck and making her nipples tighten. “We’ve had this discussion about your rights. You left me. I followed. For now that’s all you need to know.” Oh, his voice was wonderful. Deep, gravelly, and stoking a fire inside her that she wasn’t prepared for.

  “I won’t be used, damn it!” Her anger caught her by surprise.

  “Nobody said you would be.” He was a rock against her, unmoving, unyielding. “In fact, I specifically told you I wouldn’t use you. What happened to the trust?”

  His words echoed her thoughts from yesterday, which brought her up short. “I’m not stupid. There’s no other reason for you to hold on to me except as a bargaining chip. You’d have had me on the first flight to DC if you had no intentions of using me.”

  “I’m protecting your ass, and you left the safety of our room like it was nothing. Do you know what that shows me, Allie?”

  She shook her head, incapable of speech because she swore he’d just licked the skin under her ear.

  “It shows me that you need protecting. If from no one else, then from yourself.”

  He shoved her away gently, and she took a single step before she turned to him. He’d followed her, broken into her hotel room, and was now saying she couldn’t
take care of herself? She’d been chased, shot at, winged by a bullet, and now she was running for her life. She went after the only one she could…King. She punched his chest, and both her side and her hand paid for it. He stood there and took it. “Fight me back, damn it,” she yelled with a grunt.

  He shook his head and opened his arms. Her fight disappeared then, leaving her drained and weary.

  “I can’t fight you. You’re already hurt,” he said quietly.

  Her brows lowered, and she growled.

  “Stop growling, and don’t look at me like that,” he told her in a dark, guttural voice.

  Her head snapped up, and she met his glittering green gaze. Lust, need, and anger were written on his face—a potent combination creating a spell that she was falling under.

  “Take a shower. We need to relocate,” he murmured. Then he turned and walked to stand by the front door.

  She lost her mind then. Her gaze became hazed with red. Rage moved through her in a white-hot wave. She growled again and felt animalistic doing so. It was quite the stress reliever.

  He went completely still, face blanking, but oh how his green eyes glowed. “That’s it,” he said, determination riding his features.

  Then he was there, picking her up and walking her backward until her back hit the wall. He leaned down until their gazes were level. “You pushed me. Remember that when we’re done here.”

  He used his fingers on her jaw to hold her mouth open, the threat implicit. If she didn’t grant him access, he would damn well take her mouth anyway. Her gaze locked with his, and something intense and beautiful shimmered between them.

  It was lust but so much more. Her breath locked in her throat. Then his mouth was on hers, teeth gnashing, lips locking, and he was breathing for her, taking her in a way she’d never been taken before.

  The man was a master. His mouth on hers did things to her body she’d never imagined. Heat built as her body unfurled for him, a flower blooming amid the fire. His hips held her against the wall as he devoured her lust.

  He pressed his hips into the cradle of hers. He took her mouth again, and there was no more thought, only pleasure.

  Her hands settled on his shoulders and moved into the silky hair at his nape. He bit her lower lip and then laved it with his tongue. She hissed and pulled his hair. “So good,” she keened.

  “Yes,” he murmured, his lips now at her neck and moving lower. He nipped her collarbone, and she groaned.

  “Your mouth,” she pleaded, and he was back, inhaling her, teasing her with deep strokes and small licks.

  His hands under her ass held her firmly in place. He was reaching for a place inside her she didn’t want to relinquish, yet she didn’t want him to stop. He took two steps and had her on the bed, his hips nestled once again within the cradle of hers, his hard length pressing right where she needed him.

  “You’re a fire in my blood,” he said roughly.

  His hands framed her face, thumbs stroking her cheeks. A thrill moved through her, and her hips flexed. There was a twinge in her side, but she ignored it. She’d done that to him, made him flushed with passion, made him hard with lust. For her.

  She traced his lips, and he sucked her finger into his mouth, teasing the tip with his tongue. Her vision wavered, and her pussy clenched. She felt empty.

  “I need you,” she whispered. “I don’t know why, but I need you.”

  His brows lowered, and his mouth flattened. “You ran from me.” He flexed his hips, and her eyes crossed. Any more of that, and she’d orgasm in his arms while they were still fully dressed.

  “No more running,” he said in a hard voice. “Tell me you won’t run anymore.”

  “I won’t run anymore,” she parroted.

  His thumb traced her lips, and it was her turn to taunt him. She flicked her tongue, tasting him. He pushed his thumb against her lips, and she opened them, taking him inside and sucking him hard.

  His green eyes narrowed and went black. His body stilled completely as he raised his head and cocked it.

  Then her world exploded.

  Literally.

  A loud boom ripped through the room, leaving behind a rushing whoosh that brought flames and glass raining down on them. He rolled off the bed, taking her with him before he pushed her down and covered her with the comforter. She saw his lips moving, but her hearing had been decimated by the explosion. All she heard was a ringing in her ears, loud and insistent.

  She watched him move through the smoke, gathering his duffel and reaching for her. Someone rose out of the gray behind King and hit him hard with some sort of metal pipe. The blow glanced off his back, but King went down, rolling and taking the man’s legs out.

  Allie stilled, a scream dying in her throat as she watched King engage the man. He began blocking the blows, fighting like a demon, catching the man with a short right punch to the solar plexus and then following it with an elbow to the face. Another man entered the room, and Allie knew he was there for her.

  Her hearing rushed back then with the sound of burning wood, fire alarms, and people screaming racing through her head. Her gaze centered on the man aiming his laser-sighted pistol at her.

  King called her name, and she glanced up as the man who’d originally attacked him struck again, hitting King in his side with the piece of metal. King blocked as many of the blows as he could, counterpunching several times. Allie’s fear exploded from her lungs in a scream. King glanced her way, and that moment’s inattention allowed the man’s next blow to catch King on the head. He fell like a tree.

  Allie lost her mind, coming up out of the cocoon of covers and exploding in a frenzy. She grabbed a broken piece of wood and struck the intruder over the head. He stumbled, but King was down. She hit the man again and again and again until someone pulled the wood from her, wrenching her around.

  She kicked out, her foot connecting with a gut, and then heard someone yell her name once more. Fire licked up the walls of the suite, and a huge hole had been ripped into the side of the hotel. The crackle of the wood reverberated through the smoke-filled room. She heard people yelling, screaming in terror, and in the distance sirens. This was bad. Really bad.

  “Allison Redding?” a man yelled again.

  She didn’t answer. She had no idea who these men were. They’d attacked King, and that alone made them enemies. Allie went to her knees, searching for some sign of King. She found him lying in a pool of blood, eyes closed, face white. But the initial intruder was down too after a single shot to the throat. He was about two feet from King.

  “King,” she called out.

  He didn’t move.

  “Allison Redding, your father sent us,” the voice called out.

  Her father? No way. Her father had no idea where she was. The smoke was thick, choking her. She grabbed at the bedding, tugging a sheet off the bed, and ripping off two strips. She wrapped one around her nose and mouth before she did the same with King. He was breathing, but she had no idea the extent of his injuries.

  Someone had blown a hole into this hotel. But she wouldn’t run anymore. She’d told him she wouldn’t run. And so she wouldn’t. Unless she was running with him.

  She glanced around, searching for an out. The man continued to call her name. He couldn’t see past the smoke and fire, but Allie could see daylight. She’d only seen one thing do what had been done to this room—a rocket-propelled grenade. And she’d never been more grateful for its hole-punching capabilities than she was right now.

  It had blown a hole through to the next room. Her side was on fire and her throat was clogged with smoke, but she got to her feet, grabbed King under the armpits, and began to pull him.

  “Allison, your dad sent us,” the voice said again.

  “Bullshit,” she murmured. Her dad would never have allowed somebody to use an RPG anywhere near her.

  She’d
just gotten King into the other room when a big shape rose out of the smoke. She dropped him and turned to confront the threat.

  “My name is Brody Madoc, ma’am,” the big man said.

  Brody Madoc, Brody Madoc… Wait, he’d been one of King’s men killed in Beirut.

  “You’re a dead man,” she garbled.

  Madoc smiled and shook his head. “Not anymore.” He stooped down and grabbed King up in a fireman’s carry. “I need you to follow me if you want to live.”

  He met her gaze unflinchingly, and for some reason, she believed him. He reached for her hand, and they ran through the room, hitting the hallway outside and taking the stairs down.

  Allie followed him, unwilling to lose sight of King. They blended as casually as possible into the sea of fleeing patrons, settling into a wide stream of humanity that poured onto the sidewalks outside the hotel. Trucks were everywhere, water streaming into the smoking building.

  “You have two choices. Follow me or get caught,” the man said in a deep, broken voice.

  Allie followed. They reached a single, unoccupied car, and the man identifying himself as Brody Madoc put King in the passenger’s seat before turning to her and handing her a sat phone. Once that was done, he threw King’s duffel into the back and gave her the keys. Madoc had thought to grab King’s duffel and was now giving them a way to flee.

  “I don’t know where to go,” she said around a cough.

  He nodded to the phone, and she saw it was ringing. She’d not heard it.

  She answered it. “He-hello?”

  “Follow Brody, the man who pulled you out, Ms. Redding. If you don’t, the men who attacked you will catch up.” It was a woman’s voice. Soothing and fervent.

  The man nodded at her. Allie got her ass in the car. She watched as he pulled away from the curb and stopped, obviously waiting on her to follow. She glanced at King, whose head lolled to the side. He was bleeding badly, but she couldn’t tell where the wound was on his scalp. She reached for his duffel and rummaged without looking until her hands fell on a large metal object. She pulled out a wicked-looking matte gray pistol.