by Edie Harris
“Not everyone carries an entire arsenal on his person,” Tobias said wryly, but nonetheless removed his suit jacket to shrug out of the sleekest shoulder holster Vick had ever seen.
Vick hadn’t even noticed the telling bulge of a carry beneath the tailored lines of Tobias’s suit. “Where did you get that?”
“Gillian. The pistol and holster are a set, designed to lie along the curve beneath the rib cage, on the latissimus dorsi. Passes a metal-detector test because it’s made of plastic and organic polymers, and the holster fabric is designed to obscure the gun it conceals from scanners.” He slipped his jacket back into place. “Gillian tells me it’s ‘sexy,’ but mostly it’s just convenient.”
“Can I buy one of those from Gillian?” Because, damn, Vick coveted the thing. It was sexy. He bent to remove his ankle piece, then dropped the switchblade from his trouser pocket onto the table with the rest of their cache.
Casey smirked. “Faraday tech is for Faraday employees only, bro.” Eyeing Beth speculatively, he jerked his chin. “All right, Bethie. Give it up.”
She crossed her arms over her chest, scowling at the deadly pile of weaponry. “My Beretta’s in my bag, and I’ll have to leave my bag at the door anyway, so what’s the point?”
“You only carry one gun now? Not even a pocketknife?” The oldest Faraday appeared crestfallen. “It’s like I taught you nothing.”
Ignoring one brother, she turned to the other. “What is it you always say, Tobias—go into a situation aware of all possible outcomes, but know which is the only acceptable outcome for you?”
“So you do listen when I lecture.” A glimmer of amusement curved his mouth before sobering again. “The only acceptable outcome is the removal of the contract on your head. Whatever game T-16 is playing with the Russians, it’s a game they will lose.” Tobias gave Vick a speaking glance. “The only acceptable outcome is a loss.”
It was then that Vick began to wonder if maybe, just maybe, he hadn’t been as careful as he believed. Because Tobias was looking at him now with a million threats in his cold eyes.
Beth cleared her throat. “Tobias.” He didn’t respond, locked into a stare-down that made the small hairs on Vick’s arms stand on end, so Beth tried again. “Tobias.”
“Yes?”
“He knows they won’t succeed. That’s why he’s with us,” she said solemnly.
Vick’s heart shattered under the crushing weight of her undeserved trust.
Unaware of the destruction she’d wreaked, Beth knelt to rummage in her bag. “Casey, what’s the first thing you taught me when I started training with you?” When she straightened, she held a red-soled shoe in each hand, gripping the arched bodies to leave the sharp spikes of the heels free.
Casey grinned. “Never go into a fight unarmed.”
“Ta-da.” Stepping into the gleaming black stilettos, Beth propped her hands on her hips and smiled grimly, a woman who absolutely did not require a man’s protection but accepted it because she knew the men in her life were desperate to shield her. “All right, boys. Let’s do this.”
Chapter Sixteen
They made the elevator ride to the twenty-ninth floor of London’s famous Gherkin building in complete silence. Casey and Tobias stood at the front of the car, but while Tobias remained coolly collected, Casey shifted his weight back and forth, like an athlete pumping himself up before the big game.
Beth observed Vick out of the corner of her eye. He was paler than usual, the grim set of his mouth highlighting the grooves on either side of his lips and accentuating the crow’s feet at the corners of his long-lashed eyes. He’d neglected to shave before their flight, and the few days’ worth of stubble called to her fingertips, urging her to soothe away his stress.
It hadn’t taken much to put two and two together, once she’d had a moment to think. The epiphany had hit her in the middle of the night, at the hotel, when she’d roused briefly after their bathroom-countertop interlude to find Vick wrapped around her in bed, his arms unyielding steel that vowed never to release her.
Her death at Vick’s hands had never been on the table, she’d realized. It was a ruse, but to what conclusion she wasn’t sure. Was his demise more important to MI6 than Beth’s own? Tobias was right—Yang had been too quick to agree to a meet for the hit to be their endgame. The missing pieces to this puzzle were driving her mad, and she suspected Vick had those pieces in his pocket, holding back until necessity drove him forward.
Not two days ago, Beth thought of love as a delicate amalgam of need and pain, that hurting was intrinsically tied to the longing she felt for this man. She hadn’t been wrong—because knowing Vick wasn’t sharing the whole truth lashed at her heart—but now she wondered what it would be like to love without doubt or fear. How deep and true would that love be...and would Vick want to share it with her?
Until he mentioned wanting to cook for her, their future together had been mostly unspoken. Sure, when they were banging each other’s brains out, it was easy to make promises about “together” and “always,” neatly avoiding anything concrete, like, “Do you think we should move in together?” or, “I prefer the right side of the bed,” and the ever-important, “Whose family are we spending the holidays with this year?” Okay, so perhaps some of those questions were more Distant Future than Near, but specifics were specifics, and Beth wanted some, damn it. With everything else up in the air, starting and ending with whether or not she’d walk out of the Gherkin alive tonight, she needed specifics to focus on. To...give her hope.
Beth realized she needed hope when it came to her and Vick. When the thrill from the past few days faded, she could take the hope in her heart and offer it to him. And then they could see what that hope could bring them, together.
The only chance of that hopeful future happening was if she let go of her mistrust. Whatever information Vick withheld, they would know soon enough, and it wasn’t as if he hadn’t withheld knowledge from her in the past. Before, she’d understood, accepted, moved on. So long as she didn’t wind up dead in the ground because of his deliberate silence, she could do the same now.
As the elevator doors whooshed open, Beth exhaled slowly, then reached over to tangle her fingers with Vick’s. He glanced at her, obviously startled, but then some of the tension leeched from his expression, and his grip tightened.
Letting go of him...hurt. And that, she supposed, was that. Vick was hers, for better or worse, and when this was over she would do her damnedest to live “better.” With him.
Their quartet stepped from the lift toward the entrance to the office suite. The name of whatever company typically leased the space had been removed from the reception desk, and through the glass-and-chrome doors, Beth saw row after row of desks draped in dust cloths.
The earpiece-wearing guards on either side of the doors kept their eyes trained on them as Beth and company approached, one a broad-shouldered young man of Middle Eastern descent, the other an auburn-haired beauty. As Casey had predicted, they were thoroughly swept for weapons and bugs, and Beth’s purse was confiscated. The female agent’s moss-green gaze clashed with Beth’s for a split second before she gave a near-imperceptible nod and waved them through.
Beth nodded in return, heart rate spiking as they strode into the office space occupied by five individuals. Two looked vaguely familiar—a short, dark-eyed blonde with incredible bone structure, the other a nondescript, fortysomething man with thinning brown hair. Another two were obvious muscle, similar to the pair outside the doors, but it was the tall, elegant woman with the sleek silver bob who captured Beth’s attention.
The woman’s tip-tilted eyes narrowed on Beth when she and her brothers came to a halt, Vick a pace behind, guarding her back. “Ms. Faraday. What a surprise.”
Beth swallowed with a throat gone dry. She may have entered with the intent of shaking Colleen Yang’s
hand, but actually doing so took more courage than she anticipated. Still, she extended a hand, stepping forward. “Not a fan of surprises, I take it?”
“I prefer to be apprised of the known variables going into a situation.” Yang strode forward and grasped Beth’s hand with her own cool palm. Nothing ruffled T-16’s section chief. The older woman’s gaze shifted over Beth’s shoulder to land on Vick. “Needless to say, I was operating under the assumption you remained in the United States with my agent.”
The bottom dropped out of Beth’s stomach with nauseating force. “Don’t you mean ‘former agent’?”
Yang dropped her hand. “Let’s not pretend, shall we? Raleigh Vick is now and has always been a loyal servant of the Secret Intelligence Service.” Her perceptive gaze swept over Beth. “Though I comprehend how that loyalty would be tested. You’re a beautiful young woman, Ms. Faraday.”
“You’re lying.” Beth heard the men shift behind her but didn’t dare peek over her shoulder, her entire body gone cold at the section chief’s arrogant tone. The woman spoke with conviction, a conviction that filled Beth with dread from head to toe. “You had him shot.”
Vick’s low voice behind her. “Beth, love—”
“Agent Vick was aware of the potential risks when this mission began. And while I will admit that your presence was never expected nor required, he has wholly succeeded in his mission—your family is here.”
Beth was going to vomit. No, seriously, she was going to throw up, her entire body shaking with the urge as a clammy sweat broke out along her hairline...unless she pulled herself together and remembered that she couldn’t afford to show a single ounce of weakness. They were negotiating for her life—a life that, apparently, hadn’t been quite as safe in Vick’s hands as she had wanted to believe.
So this was his secret. Her subconscious had known all was not as it seemed, and lo and behold, here they stood. Totally fucked over. But, God, it just seemed wrong.
Yang lifted her chin, looking beyond Beth’s shoulder at the three men standing in tense silence at her back. “Now, then. Let’s get down to business. Mr. Faraday?”
Tobias appeared at Beth’s side as she struggled not to topple under the blow she had just been dealt. “You seem eager, Ms. Yang. I don’t trust eagerness.” His even tone brought with it a wave of calm, dragging Beth back from the edge of a complete and utter breakdown.
“It’s not eagerness, but an impatience to put this situation to rest.” Yang arched an ebony brow. “I’m certain you feel the same.”
“While Faraday Industries wants to resolve the ‘situation,’ as you put it, we won’t rush the process on the basis of potentially faulty intelligence.” When Yang didn’t respond, Tobias shrugged, the casual quirk at odds with his perfect posture and façade of stone. “We don’t have to discuss the veracity of your intel now, if you’re feeling...sensitive.”
“Sarcasm will do you no favors,” Yang said coldly.
Tobias gave her a chilling facsimile of a smile. “Neither will leveling death threats at my sister, so tell us what it is you really want.”
“Faraday.”
“I’m sorry?”
“You heard me.” Yang’s own smile was victorious. “We want Faraday Industries. Access, information, resources, personnel. We want the same assets at our disposal that are currently available only to the U.S. government.”
At Beth’s back, Casey grumbled an expletive, but Tobias parried the section chief’s offensive strike with ease. “We’re not mercenaries for hire, Ms. Yang. The jobs we accept are from vetted government officials, and we act knowing that we are merely an extension of American reach. A finger on a hand, for example.”
The short blonde with the killer cheekbones snorted. “Yeah—the middle finger.”
There was something about the blonde that bothered Beth. How she stood, perhaps, as though ready to spring into action at any moment. She was petite but athletically built, like she knew her way around a soccer pitch. Or a sniper rifle. “I know you.” Beth frowned, trying to think around the pounding in her head. “How do I know you?”
“Colombia. We went in for Vick,” the blonde answered shortly, not inviting further speculation. “I’m McCallister.” She pointed to the man in his forties, the other one who’d seemed somewhat familiar. He watched Beth with unnerving intensity. “Nash was also there.”
Yang continued as though their interruption had never occurred. “It’s a fairly simple proposition. Faraday Industries signs a contract granting the Secret Intelligence Service—and by extension the United Kingdom—access and usage identical to that of the United States, to be compensated equally. In exchange, we negotiate the termination of the hit on Beth Faraday...though we will need to tread carefully around the volatile Moscow issue.”
The woman had titanium balls, that was for sure, but Beth couldn’t get past the wrongness of Yang’s earlier words, naming Vick as her agent, now and always. Yes, Vick had lied to them, setting the Faradays up to be forced into a business arrangement, of all fucking things. Beth had already known Vick withheld information; he’d admitted as much their first night, because classified intel was classified intel. Beth herself wasn’t at liberty to share the details of her past jobs, whom she’d killed and at whose behest. But she truly believed him when he had said he didn’t know anything about the Russians, remembering the anger and frustration in his voice during their phone call with Yang.
That wasn’t his lie—it was Yang’s, and Beth suddenly knew without a doubt that they were still being played. Locking Faraday Industries in with a contractual ball-and-chain may have been T-16’s initial goal, but as Beth studied the section chief, she saw what Tobias had probably been aware of all along: a distinct tension tightening her eyes and mouth and the occasional flicking glance in...Nash’s direction?
Vick may have betrayed her, threatening the very foundation on which Beth planned to build her future with him—and she damn well intended to learn why, as soon as she got her fury under control—but Vick had been used. That much was clear, at least to her. Vibrating with repressed fury, Beth interjected, “If you’re so concerned about the welfare of your agents, then why shoot Vick? That gut wound could have killed him.”
“Agent Vick’s assignment required him to convince you of his new loyalty to you. As time was of the essence, a failed assassination attempt seemed most expedient. Granted, the original intent was not to injure him quite so badly—” again, Yang’s gaze flitted to Nash, “—but as you can see, the damage was not severe.”
Dear God, his own people—Nash, apparently—had shot him on purpose. And Vick had known this was going to happen, as a ploy to soften her toward him. Not that she’d needed softening, oh, no. Had T-16 known the ace it held up its sleeve in bringing her lover back from the dead? Beth would have welcomed him with open arms even if he hadn’t cut ties with his employer.
A thought occurred, terrible and true. With a steadying breath, she risked looking over her shoulder at the one man who had the power to break her heart like none other. She swallowed past the lump in her throat. “Tobias didn’t text you that day.”
Vick didn’t even pretend to misunderstand. “No.”
Nausea curdled her stomach, and she couldn’t help but lay a hand over her belly in a useless attempt to hold in the pain. “Who was that sniper for, Vick?”
“Me. Another planned attempt to soften you and your family toward me.” He shook his head, blue eyes bright and beseeching under the fluorescent glare. “You weren’t supposed to protect me, darling. She wasn’t supposed to hit you.”
Tobias shifted between them, his façade of calm cracking the tiniest bit. “She? She who?”
McCallister cleared her throat, and when Tobias glared daggers at her, she smirked and saluted.
Stupid. Shooting Vick to ingratiate him into their lives was so needlessly, pointless
ly stupid. Was it so impossible to have a straightforward conversation? Pressure built at Beth’s temples. All of this spy bullshit, they loved it. MI6, the CIA, her brothers—they were all the same, turned on by the complicated twists and turns of deadly intrigue and uncaring of the lives they ruined in pursuit of spy wet-dream nirvana.
She was sick and fucking tired of being surrounded by danger boners. Tearing her attention from Vick, she whipped around to pin Yang with her rage once more. “You know, it’s kind of counterintuitive to freaking blackmail your way into a business deal. We’d never trust you not to turn on us, or sell us out.” Or shoot me right here, right now to make a point. An agreement between them wouldn’t suffice, Beth could see that much. Her blood was still on the negotiating table.
“We don’t need you to trust us, only to work with us. Faraday Industries is a business—we’re not demanding fealty, nor a belief in some greater purpose.”
It was Tobias who responded, having ripped his seething glare from the blonde to recover his calm mask. “Again, you liken us to mercenaries, when we are, in fact, a weapons developer and manufacturer with a division specializing in tactical missions the military is not permitted to undertake.” He seemed to grow taller in the space of a breath, pride straightening his shoulders as he explained their family’s legacy. “We serve the United States because the United States has earned our loyalty. Trust me, it’s not blindly given.”
“You cling to a government corrupted in its purpose. It’s not the same country your ancestors fought to free, Tobias.” Yang sneered. “If you serve no one, you can serve everyone. You are the unfair American advantage in how the world fights its wars today—covertly.”
“Our advantage comes from knowledge,” Tobias said, unintimidated. “In that, we do not lack.”
“Knowledge limited by exposure to only one world power instead of many.” Yang’s unruffled exterior took on a decidedly irritated tinge. “It would be a mistake to think we leapt twelve steps ahead and immediately decided force was the only means of obtaining the outcome we desired. MI6 has been attempting to negotiate a deal with Faraday Industries for the better part of a decade, and we’ve been turned away time after time. You yourself have declined meetings with us.” This in particular seemed to anger the woman most of all. “Faraday Industries somehow sits outside international jurisdiction but serves a single master—how is that possible?”
