by Anya Nowlan
Six
Sienna
The mystery man still had a tight grip on her arm when Logan reached them, lips curled into a snarl and arm pulled back in preparation for a punch. He only let go at the last possible second so Sienna could stumble back a step or two, watching with morbid curiosity.
The man ducked down just as Logan swung and then landed a hit to Logan’s abdomen. Logan doubled over and the man shot back up. He jumped and brought his elbow down on Logan’s back.
Logan went down with a groan, but he wasn’t done yet. He rolled Logan over with his foot and landed a savage kick to the guy’s ribs. Sienna didn’t exactly feel bad for Logan, seeing as he had played a big part in keeping her prisoner, but hearing the man’s ribs crack still made her wince a little.
Who the hell is this guy?
The mystery man spun around and clamped his hand around her elbow and it was only then that she really realized that she’d been free for a moment. He just moved so fast that it was hard to keep track of what was actually going on.
Still holding on to her arm, the stranger placed a heavy boot on Logan’s neck. Her guard stopped struggling immediately as his eyes widened in fear. Having seen the stranger in action, Sienna knew he would not hesitate to crush Logan’s trachea, and Logan must have gotten that impression as well, loud and clear.
“I want you to give your boss a message,” the stranger said, a distinctive southern drawl to his smooth voice. “I have his girlfriend, and if he wants her back, he better call me.”
The man fished out a piece of paper from his pocket and threw it at Logan.
His girlfriend? Oh, this guy has no idea what he’s getting himself into! What the hell is going on here? Sienna wondered, but didn’t say aloud.
Leaving Logan wheezing on the ground, the man tugged her toward a nearby alley. She could see a car tucked away there, and sure enough, that’s what they were heading towards. He turned to look at her, as if to say something, but suddenly stopped short.
He had said he wouldn’t hurt her, but could Sienna believe him? The way he ripped out Bill’s throat in a manner of seconds certainly didn’t help his case. Not that it even mattered. Whoever he was, she wasn’t interested in being anyone’s captive, regardless of how deadly they were.
The guy silently looked her up and down, grey eyes finally fixing on her face. Sienna’s heart began to pound as she took in the man before her, bathed in an aura of violence as he was.
He towered over her, being almost as wide and tall as Logan, but somehow leaner, more built for function. Broad shoulders gave way to a chiseled jaw, high cheekbones and a strong, straight nose. He had messy dirty blond hair that she couldn’t help but want to run her fingers through.
If they ever needed to recast Thor, he would be a perfect choice. His grasp around her arm loosened as he slipped it from her elbow to her wrist, starting to feel more like a caress than a vice grip.
Sienna yanked her arm away, the contact suddenly making her feel strange. This time, he let her. He was close enough for Sienna to feel the warmth rolling off of his body and for whatever reason, the sensation calmed her. He was breathing slightly heavy, but that was the only sign that he’s just kicked the asses of two men built like brick houses and walked out of it without a scratch on him.
Her thoughts were still racing. Was there a point to running, given how easily he caught her earlier? And if she did run, wouldn’t she just be running back into Logan’s arms? She definitely didn’t want to be there.
The stranger picked up on her hesitation.
“If you’re thinking of running, go ahead. But we both know I’ll catch you,” he said with a dangerous glint in his eyes.
His lips curled in a matching smirk. It looked sort of hot on him.
“Now, are you going to mind your manners and sit up front with me or are you going to force me to shove you into the trunk?”
Sienna crossed her arms and gave him a defiant look, even though she knew he was right. There was no way she was going to outrun a shifter. Particularly this shifter. And if she was stuck in the trunk, she wouldn’t be able to talk to him to find out what the hell he was after and why he thought she was Holland’s girlfriend.
The thought of sharing a bed with Holland made her grimace and bile rise in her throat.
“So, what’s it going to be?” the man asked again.
“I’ll behave,” Sienna answered, walking to the passenger side door and getting in the car.
I’ve been behaving way too much lately. How the hell did I get in this mess anyway?
The vehicle was a sleek black Chevy Camaro and she sank into the leather seats with a tired sigh. All these shifters seemed to have a thing for American muscle. Not that she minded – as much as the shifters tended to be jerks, at least the cars were hot. A small solace, but she’d take whatever she could get.
Sienna had gotten her wish – she was out from under Holland’s thumb. But she didn’t know if her situation had taken a turn for the better or for the worse.
Out of the frying pan and into the fire?
She snuck a glance at the guy, who had yet to introduce himself.
The man got in next to her, and she could tell he was keeping an equally as close watch on her from the corner of his eye. He pulled out of the alley and headed downtown, handling the powerful car with ease.
With a start, Sienna realized she couldn’t keep her eyes off of him. The way his muscles tensed and bunched as he switched gears, maneuvering through traffic at high speeds, had her mesmerized.
But he wasn’t her chauffeur. He had just killed a man, evidenced by the smear of red still splattered on his neck. She should have been thinking of ways to escape, not swooning over the guy!
Racking her brain, she thought of her options. She had read somewhere that you should try to humanize yourself when being kidnapped, form a bond so that the kidnapper would find it harder to harm you. It’s not like she had any better ideas floating around.
“I’m Sienna, what’s your name?” she blurted out, feeling stupid as soon as the words left her mouth.
Like he’s going to answer. Murderers don’t just give away their identities to potential witnesses.
She could see his lips quirk as he considered her question, giving her a look. Those grey eyes seemed to hide way more than Sienna would have thought possible. A very big part of her wanted to unravel that mystery as fast as she could.
“I’m Arlen,” he replied after a few seconds.
“Is that your real name?”
Do I have to vocalize every stupid thought I have?
“Is Sienna yours?” he countered, keeping his eyes on the road.
“Why would I lie about my name?”
“I don’t know, maybe for the same reasons you think I lied about mine?”
Sienna turned to look out her window with a huff.
“Expert at kidnapping and mind games, what a treat,” she grumbled just loud enough for him to hear over the engine.
That got a laugh out of Arlen, or whatever the hell he was actually called.
“It is my real name, you’re just going to have to take my word for it.”
Because coldblooded killers are so trustworthy, Sienna thought, the image of Bill dying replaying in her head.
It didn’t bother her as much as it should have, she realized. Knowing the kind of stuff Bill had done, how he’d ruined lives, she couldn’t help but think that he had it coming.
Introductions aside, Sienna couldn’t dance around the main questions on her mind any longer.
“What are you going to do with me and why do you think I’m Holland’s girlfriend?”
“Is this the part where you try to convince me you’re just some innocent bystander and I should let you go?” Arlen scoffed. “I think it’s a little late for that, Sienna.”
She liked the way her name sounded when he said it.
Weird.
She shook her head, getting back to the argument.
“It’s the truth! Holland had me kidnapped so I could be the Crimson Claws’ own personal massage therapist. Don’t look at me like that, I know how fucking insane that sounds! I’ve been kept against my will at his house, only allowed to leave when one of his buddies wanted a rubdown.”
Her voice was rising, but she couldn’t do anything to stop it. Especially after he gave her a look, telling her that he didn’t believe a word coming out of her mouth. Arlen implying she was involved with Holland or with the Crimson Claws of her own free will was downright offensive.
He pulled up in front of a huge apartment building on the outskirts of midtown and turned to look at her with a curious expression.
“That’s a nice story. Say I believe you. But I’m going to need some proof,” he uttered, steely eyes boring into hers.
He leaned in, and Sienna’s heart rate spiked. She told herself it was because she was afraid, which was partly true, but there was also something else. She was acutely aware of every movement he made, mirroring his gestures without even meaning to. The air between them seemed to thicken with something heady and electric.
“And if you’re lying, you might see a side of me you’d rather not,” Arlen warned, the threat made only slightly less intimidating by the way he was staring at her lips.
Sienna shook her head, trying to clear it.
It must be the leftover adrenaline from before making me feel like this she rationalized. How am I going to prove to him that I’m telling the truth?
And more importantly, what was Arlen going to do to her if she failed to do so?
Seven
Arlen
Arlen led Sienna into his makeshift apartment, feeling like he was losing his mind. His tiger was even more aggressive and restless than before, if that was even possible. He made Sienna walk up the stairs in front of him, so he could make sure she wasn’t going to make a run for it.
Or so he’d told himself.
In hindsight, it might have not been the best idea, because now he couldn’t focus on anything but the way her hips swayed and how her tight jeans perfectly outlined her voluptuous ass. He wasn’t the kind of man who’d wolf-whistle, but Sienna made him want to break that rule ten times over.
A growl erupted from deep in his chest before he could regain his cool.
“Did you say something?” Sienna asked, glancing back.
“Nope,” Arlen denied, maybe a bit too quickly.
She raised an eyebrow but didn’t comment.
“That’s the one,” he said when she almost passed the door to his apartment.
Sienna stopped and leaned on the wall as he got out his keys. Her crisp scent whirled all around him and Arlen silently cursed himself. Looking back, taking her had been a terrible plan, and now she was turning out to be an even bigger distraction than he would have ever guessed.
It was a challenge just to tear his gaze away for the time it took him to unlock the door. She stared back, her hazel eyes glimmering with barely-hidden defiance, beautifully complementing her flawless, olive skin. How could he not look?
Careful, she might be playing me, his inner voice warned. I’ll find out soon enough.
He pushed the door open and gestured for her to go ahead. She hesitated for a moment, but stepped inside.
“I meant what I said. I’m not going to hurt you, as long as you’re cooperative,” he assured her as he followed her into the apartment.
I bet Foster is laughing in LA about this.
His boss always seemed to know everything about anything. It was sort of a running joke within The Firm that the enigmatic intelligence officer was the most promising recruit of Spade, the head of intel. Spade, as far as the men in The Firm were concerned, could read minds and travel through time and space. He was terrifying, and Foster was learning well from the master.
“And what exactly does being cooperative entail?” she asked with narrowed eyes, looking around his place.
Arlen’s apartment was clean and organized, if a little sparse. He didn’t have much use for knick-knacks or personal items, seeing as he was just stopping by. This was just another The Firm safehouse he would call home until the mission was over. Besides, if the Navy had taught him one thing, it was an appreciation for discipline and order, something that most of his fellow agents seemed to share. All these safehouses looked the same – neat, minimalist, and to the point.
“You don’t scream for help or try to murder me in my sleep and we should be good,” he replied. “Now go sit at the kitchen table.”
He pointed at the kitchen nook, arching a brow at her. Sienna threw him a look that told him she didn’t appreciate being ordered around, but she did it anyway. It had to be killing her. He got the sense that she’d been taking one too many orders lately.
Arlen moved to sit opposite her and placed his hands on the table, palms up. She wrinkled her little button-nose at him, probably trying to convey her annoyance. He found it irresistibly cute instead.
With a sigh, she removed the hair-tie from around her wrist and twirled her curls into a lopsided bun on top of her head.
The loose shirt she was wearing slid down one of her shoulders, exposing the tan skin underneath, as she pulled her legs up onto the chair and crossed her ankles. It felt odd, interrogating someone who looked more comfortable and relaxed than the interrogator himself.
He got the feeling Sienna was someone who always stayed true to herself, no matter the situation. He couldn’t help but be drawn to that.
“I’m going to find out if you’re telling me the truth. Put your hands in mine.”
“Excuse me?” Sienna scoffed. “How is holding my hand going to determine if I’m lying or not?” she asked, clearly skeptical.
“It’s so I can take your pulse. Also, your fingertips are one of the first parts of the body that start sweating when you’re anxious. My hearing will give me a read on your breathing patterns while I keep close watch over your eye movements,” he explained.
Why am I telling her this? I don’t owe her any explanations.
But his tiger wouldn’t have it any other way.
Realization dawned on Sienna’s face.
“Wait. You’re giving me a lie detector test using yourself as a polygraph machine?” she asked, eyebrows shooting up.
Advanced interrogation techniques were only a small part of Arlen’s training, and it was something he had taken an immediate shine to. That’s why he had the role in The Firm that he had – it wasn’t something given to just anyone.
All he had to do was establish a baseline with questions he knew the answers to, and he was set to get the truth out of almost anybody. Since Sienna wasn’t trained in counter-techniques, it should be easy.
“Yes. Now give me your hands,” he replied, wiggling his fingers on the table.
Sienna sighed and rolled her eyes before plopping her hands down on his, palms up. Electricity hummed all through his body as soon as their skin touched. Arlen’s tiger roared, before settling down with a content purr.
What is it about this woman? …No, it’s just the heat. That’s it. And I’m better than to be controlled by it.
Sienna shifted in her seat, staring at his hands and then at his face. It seemed she felt it as well.
“Come on closer so our knees touch. That way I can sense your muscles tensing,” he instructed.
Sienna didn’t look happy about it, but scooted her chair closer to the table and planted her feet back on the ground, their legs now making contact. This part wasn’t strictly necessary, but Arlen couldn’t resist. The closer she got, the more his tiger calmed down and he needed all the clarity he could get right about now.
Her cheeks were lit with a blush and he had to fight himself to keep from brushing a few errant curls of hair – the color matching her name – out of her face.
“Okay, I’m going to start out with some basic questions before moving on to what I really want to know,” he explained, leveling her with his gaze.
She nodded, and he
wrapped his fingers around her wrists, gently placing two of them on the vein running below her thumb. Sienna took a deep breath and squared her shoulders.
Her heart rate was already slightly elevated. That wasn’t a surprise, considering all she had been through today. He’d just have to take that into account when measuring her responses.
And when measuring my own…
“Are you a woman?” he started, focusing.
“Is that somehow unclear?” she replied, petulant.
It was definitely not, but thinking about all the things that made her a woman was bound to veer Arlen off course.
“Just answer the question, please,” he said, throwing Sienna a pointed look.
“Yes, I am a woman,” she answered with an exaggerated sigh.
Her heart rate remained at a steady eighty beats per minute, her breathing was regular and her muscles relaxed.
“Was today the first time we met?”
“Yes.”
“Do I have grey eyes?”
“Yes.”
Okay, that was enough for a baseline. Time to start building up to what he really wanted to know.
“Is your name Sienna?”
“Yes, Sienna Marquez.”
“Are you a massage therapist?”
“Yes,” she answered, a clear edge to her tone.
“Care to elaborate?”
Again, not strictly necessary, but he wanted to know. In fact, he found himself wanting to know whatever he could about this woman.
“I had my own business, but I had to shut it down because of the Crimson Claws. I couldn’t afford their rates.”
“Is that how you met Holland, through your business?”
“Yes, he was a customer.”
“And then he became your boyfriend?”
The question visibly irritated Sienna, but her breathing and heart rate remained steady enough. The way she bristled was damn cute, though.
