Revenge River: Men of Mercy, Book 9

by Lindsay Cross

  Nightshade was grateful for his reasonable response. Surely one little sip wouldn’t affect a person to that extreme, would it?

  “Yeah, I’m sorry. Just the thought of it now turns my stomach. Please forget I said anything.” Nightshade could barely hear Celine over the music but could tell her apology was genuine.

  Aaron placed a soft kiss on Celine’s forehead, obviously concerned for her. Nightshade felt like she should say something else and opened her mouth, but she caught Kate watching her and slammed her lips shut.

  Her excitement to try champagne for the first time took a nosedive. Deciding the safest course was to avoid everyone, she studied the napkin on the table. Merc rubbed her arm reassuringly, but that didn’t bring the comfort it had before.

  Nightshade was responsible for what had happened to Celine. She’d helped set up the kidnapping, although she’d specifically requested they only take Caroline. Celine had become an innocent bystander, and from the shadows lurking in her eyes, Nightshade knew the other girl had yet to fully recover from the trauma.

  She was struck once again by how far her plans for revenge had trickled out into other people’s lives.

  The waitress returned with all their drinks. She plopped down a clear tall stemmed glass right in front Nightshade, its contents bubbling and beautiful, but all she could taste was the sour bitterness of guilt. She reached instead for her glass of water, purposely ignoring alcohol.

  There was a lull in the loud music and a familiar voice came through the TV a few feet away. She looked over and was surprised to see Cotter’s smiling face on the screen. He was standing at a podium in his backyard in front of a group of people holding recording devices and cameras.

  “I am happy to report that Caroline has been returned home, safe and sound. Special thanks to the United States Special Forces for their assistance in this maneuver.”

  A male reporter stood up and said, “And what about the person responsible for the kidnapping? Do you have any leads?”

  Cotter’s expression hardened as he gripped the podium and leaned forward. “Yes, Caroline had a wealth of information about her location and her kidnapper. Even as I speak, we have men on the ground, moving in to capture the person responsible and bring him home for justice.”

  The music came back on, obliterating the rest of the Senator’s words, but Nightshade had heard enough. She tried to focus on the tiny droplets of water forming on her glass as she fought to catch her breath.

  It was a trap. They were trying to use her as bait to pull her father out of hiding. If he saw that press conference, she knew exactly what he would think. He’d think they found out her true identity and turned her. And he would come, his thirst for revenge against Tom Cotter overpowering everything else.

  She had to figure out a way to get a message to him, to warn him it was a lie before he blew the whole mission. Before everyone would know the truth.

  Before Merc would know the truth.

  But Nightshade had agreed before the mission that she would go completely black — no tracking devices, no anything that could be used to trace her back to Mankel. After the palace explosion, she had no way to contact her father. Their plan for complete secrecy would be their damnation.

  Nightshade swallowed, but for some reason her throat refused to cooperate.

  “Hey, drink your champagne. Celine will be fine.” Merc leaned down to whisper in her ear as his fingers teased her thigh.

  Nightshade fixated on his hand, knowing that if he’d done that five minutes ago she would have been squirming in her seat with need. But now… now she felt empty, hollow and scared.

  “Talk to me. You look like someone just shot your best friend. You want me to have the waitress remove the champagne, just say the word,” Merc whispered in her ear, and she could hear the concern lacing his words.

  She had to keep it together for now. As far as everyone at this table knew, she was Caroline Cotter. Her only hope for salvaging the mission would be to locate her teammates and get them out of hiding before Mankel had a chance to fly back to the states and infiltrate Cotter’s residence himself.

  She plastered on a smile. “It’s all right, I don’t want it anymore. What are we ordering for dinner?”

  She knew by the frown he gave her that he didn’t believe a single word she said. “It’s okay if you’re upset about this. You’ve been through a lot. It’s better if you talk about it.”

  She kept the small smile in place even though it felt like it would crack at any moment. “No really, that was careless of me. I should’ve considered their feelings.”

  “I’m so sorry, Caroline,” Celine said. “Please enjoy your champagne. Forget I even said anything.”

  Kate broke into the conversation, too. “It’s just a little bubbly.” She punctuated that statement by taking a big gulp of her beer.

  The thought of drinking or eating anything right now turned her stomach, but if she didn’t take a sip of the champagne, she worried it would turn into an even bigger ordeal and draw even more attention. “If you’re sure you don’t mind.”

  She reached for the glass, determined to put up a good front, and took a sip. Crisp fruity flavor filled her mouth, the bubbles tickled her nose. She glanced down in shock at the delicious drink. Hesitantly, she took another sip and then another, savoring each new burst of flavor.

  “I think she likes it,” Merc said with a crooked grin that tugged on her heart.

  “I think she likes it, too,” Nightshade said with a huge smile plastered on her face.

  Merc chuckled and threaded his fingers through her other hand. “There’s the smile I was missing before. Now, have you ever had buffalo wing sliders before?”

  “Nope.” What was a slider?

  “What about fried pickles?”

  “Yuck, why would you want to fry a pickle?” Feeling distinctly more relaxed, Nightshade tipped up the champagne and finished it off, frowning at her now empty glass.

  Merc chuckled again and lifted his hand, ordering her another drink.

  “See, I knew you were distinctly lacking in your education. We’re going to have to come back to this place again,” Kate said.

  Nightshade took a sip of her second glass before answering, “Definitely.”

  The rest of the evening went off without a hitch, passing by through the fuzzy rose-colored glasses of champagne. Nightshade floated home high on Merc’s touch, giggling right along with the girls over the stupidest things.

  Aaron parked the SUV and they barged into the house. Nightshade stumbled over the threshold and Merc caught her before she hit her knees. “I think someone had too much champagne.”

  For some reason Nightshade found his comment immensely funny and burst out laughing, even as the room seemed to tilt and twirl around her. “Not possible.”

  Merc shook his head and swept her up into his arms, heading to the staircase. “I’m carrying you anyway. Don’t even try and stop me.”

  Nightshade snuggled in the crook of his shoulder, inhaling his deep masculine scent. “I think I could stay here forever,” she said and burrowed closer. Unable to resist, she nipped his neck, savoring the salty and sweet taste of his skin.

  Merc growled, the deep rumble vibrating from his chest through her body. “You’re poking the bear.”

  Nightshade nipped him again, but followed it up with a lick and a kiss, fascinated by the texture of his skin. She’d never felt such soft skin over steel hard muscles before. “I prefer to call it yanking the tiger’s tail.”

  He nudged her bedroom door open, laid her on the bed and pulled off her shoes. “Count yourself lucky. This tiger doesn’t bite tipsy females.”

  Merc lifted her again, pulled the covers back, and tucked her in.

  She frowned. “Where are you going?”

  “To my bed. I’ll see you in the morning.”

  But the morning would bring reality, and she didn’t like reality. Nightshade concentrated and lifted up on her elbow. “But I want you in
my bed.” They’d already done the deed and she wanted more.

  “Baby, it’s not right. Not like this.” He sat on the edge of the bed, taking her hand in his.

  She had no intention of letting him off that easy. “Fine, no touching. But can you just hold me? Please?” She threw the blankets back and patted the bed beside her.

  “You could tempt a saint; you know that?” Merc stood, and for a second she was afraid he’d leave. Then he pulled off his shirt, kicked off his boots and crawled into bed with her.

  Merc pulled her to him, her head pillowed on his shoulder, and she threw her leg over his and pulled him tight. “I don’t care about saints. I want you.”

  Happiness surrounded her, held her, loved her. She fell asleep for the first time in her life truly content.

  23

  Nightshade woke to an empty bed, heart thudding with longing for Merc. He’d told her he loved her.

  And she’d said the same as easily as if she’d had nothing to lose but her heart.

  But she didn’t have the freedom to give her heart or her life to him. Dammit. Anger washed over her. How could she be so willing to throw her mission to the side for Merc?

  Nightshade bolted from bed and grabbed her head immediately regretting the decision. She waited until the headache subsided to tolerable and tore apart Caroline’s room looking for workout cloths, needing to do something to put some distance between them.

  Apparently Caroline wasn’t exactly into staying active. She’d dug through nearly every drawer in her built-in closet before finding another pair of gym shorts and tank tops, and in the process stumbled across Caroline’s iPod. Nightshade lifted it to her lips and kissed the screen, dearly missing her own soundtrack.

  She loved physical exercise and she loved to run, especially when she needed to burn off some steam, and she needed to burn off more steam than she had ever in her life. Everywhere she looked there was evidence of Merc. Even then his scent lingered in the air, causing her body to tingle. She studied herself in the full-length oval mirror in the corner, wondering if somehow she looked different. She felt different. Her breasts felt heavy and aching and even now she throbbed between her legs tender and yet somehow wanting more. With a frustrated sigh, she yanked on her clothes and tennis shoes and grabbed Caroline’s iPod.

  She ran down the staircase and out the front door, ignoring the security guard’s shouts, she clicked play and stuffed the ear buds into her ears. They would follow her, at least they could try, she thought with a smile. Jamming out surprisingly to some serious Soundgarden heavy metal, she picked up the pace working from a brisk jog to a full out sprint down the long driveway.

  After a few moments, she glanced behind her, relieved to see that she’d left the guards in her dust. She knew she wouldn’t have long to be alone, that they’d hop in a car and chase her down, but she needed those minutes as much as she needed to breathe.

  If she couldn’t mentally put Merc from her mind, by God, she’d sweat him out. She’d work her body to a point of exhaustion, where she was too tired to desire him and want him. She had to.

  The fact that she’d even thought for one moment about choosing him over her sisters and her family destroyed her. Her entire life she’d been alone because of Senator Cotter. She found the sisterhood in Mayhem and they’d become her family, with her father growing more and more distant until recently. Until her team had vanished.

  Nightshade’s entire identity was on the line.

  The lyrics blasted in her ears and she increased her pace, a restless energy seeming to build even as she pumped her arms harder and kicked her legs faster. She burst around the corner and skidded to a stop at Cotter’s massive wrought iron gate. There were two guards, flanking each side, Nightshade slowed her pace and jogged up to the one on the right.

  He frowned, tilting his head slightly to the right, “Ms. Cotter, you shouldn’t be so far from the house.”

  Caroline bent over and propped her hands on her knees. “My security detail’s right behind me, I got clearance, open the gate.”

  The old guard’s frown deepened. “My orders are to keep you inside.”

  Nightshade rose to her full height, propping her hands on her hip as she lifted her chin and glared at the man. She had to get out, she couldn’t breathe inside these walls. “And who exactly told you that?”

  The guard didn’t waver when he answered, “Your father.”

  “So you work for him then?”

  “Yes, I do.”

  “And so then by extension you work for me and I demand you open the gate. Now.”

  She saw the first crack in his exposure, a flicker of indecision. “I can’t do that, it’s not safe. Not for you anyway.”

  Nightshade crowded up into his personal space, knowing her anger was irrational and directed at herself more than anything else. “Open the damn door.”

  “It’s all right Wayne, let her out. I’m with her.”

  Nightshade froze at the deep masculine, voice spinning around to see Merc standing not five feet behind her, not even winded.

  “Who drove you here?”

  He shrugged, and she didn’t like the knowing glint in his eyes one bit. “No one.”

  “There’s no way you could’ve caught up with me, I didn’t even see you outside when I left.”

  “I have long legs.”

  The muscles in her spine stiffened as she stared at the very reason for her running in the first place.

  “As long as you’re with her, Sir.”

  Wayne went to the small brick house and hit a button and the gates buzzed open.

  Merc responded kindly, “We won’t be gone too long.”

  Nightshade huffed and as soon as the gates opened wide enough for her to squeeze through, took off, intending to put as much distance between her and Merc as possible.

  The words of Evanescence, ‘Lies’ mocked her as she ran at full out speed down the highway, knowing she couldn’t escape him, but she had to try. Had to do anything she could to get away from him.

  Outside of the estate, the trees grew thick, with vines winding wildly between, as if someone had cut a swath through an unclaimed forest and popped down a two-lane road. The highway led her onward, directing her feet as her mind wandered. She tried to concentrate on her breathing. In. Out. In. Out. She kept her heart rate low, a skill that had been hard-learned over her life and kept running. After a few minutes without slowing she chanced a glance over her shoulder, smiling when she didn’t see Merc.

  That was the bad thing about all that muscle, it was heavy and had to weigh him down. There was no way he’d be able to keep pace with her over a long distance. Speed out ranked raw power every time. A burst of inspired adrenaline urged her on and she took the sharp curve to the left at high speed, the wind in her face exhilarating. Finally, she was free to be herself. Out here, alone she didn’t have to pretend, she just existed.

  Faster, gaining momentum as the road sloped downward, her sneakers slapped the black pavement as she increased speed. Another curve, almost a ninety degree turn going downhill, she lengthened her stride, pumping her arms faster, becoming one with the wind.

  A huge form loomed in the road ahead of her. Her heart stopped, skipped and then her instincts and training took over. Nightshade spun, using her forward momentum to drive her, she jumped up, swinging her leg in a round house. Just before she connected, she realized the huge form was Merc. Time slowed, she tried to stop but her momentum carried her forward. Her leg connected with his lower back with enough force that would send a normal man to his knees. Merc rocked up on the balls of his feet and Nightshade dropped to the ground, clutching her leg in agony. It was as if she kicked a brick wall.

  Merc knelt next to her in a split second, shoving her hands out of the way so he could inspect her leg. “What the hell was that?”

  Nightshade bit her tongue. All the careful planning and acting, and her knee-jerk response could have blown her cover entirely. “Instinct, I guess.”


  No matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t see past the cold hard mask he’d put up. But his next words left her cold. “No one has instincts like that.”

  24

  Merc had to call a car to drive Caroline back to the house after she’d bruised her leg on his body. He chose to walk back to the estate alone, needing time and space to think. Now Merc paced in his bedroom, in between the rows of bunk beds they’d been assigned on the second story. Ethan and Riser sat on the right bottom bunk, elbows resting on spread knees. On his left, sat Hunter and Ranger James in the same pose.

  Hoyt reclined against the far wall. “She moved like we move.” Merc snapped his fingers. “Lightning fast and strong. She did a round house running downhill at full speed, a move most Marines can’t even pull off.”

  “Maybe she’s had some training over her life,” Ranger shrugged. “With the Senator’s money and connections he could hire a number of private instructors.”

  “Yeah, but if she was that good, how did they kidnap her in the first place?” Merc said.

  Hunter, their team leader, said, “You know they were drugged. She might not ever have seen it coming.”

  Merc planted his feet, unwilling to back down from his team leader. “Would you be caught unaware?”

  Hunter shook his head.

  “How many trained soldiers do you know that can perform a round house in a full out sprint with no warning?”

  Hunter didn’t say a word, just pressed his lips into a hard line and remained silent.

  Merc shoved his fingers through his hair, frustration ticking through his body like a bomb about to explode. His instincts blared out a warning. Something bad was happening, something he couldn’t quite figure out, and that something involved Caroline Cotter.

  But who? And when? He needed to study her file again, maybe he’d skimmed over some paragraph about Caroline being a ju jitsu master or something… Anything that would explain her odd behavior, but he could come up with no plausible explanation.

  The last thing he wanted to do was allow Caroline to be harmed again, even if by her own hand. For her, he’d kept secrets from his team. He hadn’t told them about catching her snooping around the study or her father’s bedroom. He hadn’t told them about Mankel holding her family’s lives over her head. He’d thought he could handle her on his own, just like he’d tried to handle Mankel on his own.