“Night,” Kellan said, moving to stand protectively in front of Sabrina. “What the fuck—”
“All other jobs are on hold,” Jacob interrupted, in no mood to fuck around. “The 11th Hour now has a new mission. We need to locate Faith Beasley.” He stared at them all, each one in turn, so they knew, so they understood just how fucking serious he was. “And then we need to save her.”
* * *
The car pulled up outside a massive house to the south of the city, built rather like Jacob’s, on a bluff overlooking the sea.
The guy driving didn’t turn around. “You’re to go straight in,” he said. “Door’s open.”
Joanna—because she had to be Joanna to get this done—stared at the house, her fingers tight around the gun in her lap.
Getting here had been surprisingly easy. The driver hadn’t even argued when she’d instructed him to contact his employers—not that arguing with the gun she’d pointed in his face would have been a good idea anyway—but still, he’d taken his phone out and called his boss without a word of protest.
She’d expected a little more argument from his superiors though, she had to admit, and hadn’t got that either. No, they’d simply agreed.
Almost like they wanted to meet you rather than kill you.
Interesting thought, and there could be a few reasons for that.
And once you find out, what then?
Then she’d cross that bridge when she came to it. She was good at thinking of stuff on the fly. No doubt she’d come up with an exit strategy when the time came.
Joanna pulled open the car door and stepped out.
The house was protected by a high wall and a gate, which opened as she approached.
Huh. Friendly of them.
She walked through the gate and along a small path that led to some stone steps and the front door, her Sig in her hand and at the ready.
She didn’t let herself think about anything else except what was going on right now, and what to expect when she finally met whoever was after her. With any luck her suspicions would be correct and this would lead her to Joshua.
The front door opened, another flunky in a dark suit standing there as she came up the steps. His gaze flicked to her Sig but he didn’t give her any instructions, simply turning around and moving into the house.
Clearly, she was supposed to follow.
The house was all blank white walls, hard angles, and chrome. The furniture was minimal, the art on the gallery-like walls abstract, the floors cool tile. An obviously expensive place, but even the light shining through the windows seemed hard and far too bright.
Joanna followed the suit up a flight of stairs and into a big living area furnished with uncomfortable-looking white couches. The wall facing the ocean had sliding windows that had been rolled back to let in the sun and air. Through the windows was a terrace with an outdoor table and some chairs arranged around it. A man sat on one of the chairs, a small white cup at his elbow, a newspaper on the table in front of him.
A couple of other men in dark suits stood on either side of the terrace, radiating threat. Security, obviously.
The suit she was following gestured toward the terrace but didn’t make any move to take her gun, so she kept it loosely in her hand as she walked through the living room.
The man at the table didn’t look up as she stepped outside onto the terrace, the security guys shifting on their feet but making no move toward their own weaponry.
Whoever this guy was, he was confident.
“Joanna Lynn, I presume?” the man said finally, lifting his head and looking at her. “I hear you have something you want to talk to me about. Take a seat.”
He was handsome, in his late thirties, dark-haired, with the coldest gray eyes she’d ever seen. His clothing—T-shirt and jeans—had a lived-in look to them, his hands tattooed and scarred. On the middle finger of his left hand was a ring with a wolf’s head on it, the metal glinting in the sun as he folded the paper neatly and put it to one side.
Ex-military, she’d have laid money on the fact.
“I’ll stand, thank you,” she said, still casually holding her Sig.
“Suit yourself.” The man tilted his head. “My name is Frost.”
“So, Mr. Frost. I guess you don’t want to kill me now?”
He gave her a cold smile. “Let’s just say I’ve changed my angle on that. Especially since it depends on what kind of information you have on Jacob Night. And naturally what you want in return.”
She was conscious of a certain satisfaction, mixed with not an inconsiderable amount of relief. Looked like her gamble had paid off.
“With regard to Jacob, I can tell you anything you want to know. I worked closely with him for six months. I have his security codes, his passwords, all the details about the 11th Hour operation. I also know things about his past that he’s told no one else.”
“How . . . interesting. And presumably you’ll want something in return for this information.” Frost’s cold eyes gleamed. “Not that I need to ask what that is.”
There was something icy in her gut, a fear she didn’t want him to see, so she made sure he didn’t see it, giving him nothing back but Joanna, her armor. “No, I’m sure you don’t. Joshua Smith. Where is he?”
Frost nodded slowly. “Before any of that, there were rumors that you lost your memory. Has it returned?”
What could she say? Denying it now would be futile.
“Yes.” She lifted a brow. “Does that mean I’m back at the top of your shit list?”
He gave a laugh. “It would if I was a simplistic kind of man. But I’m not. In fact, if people are generally useful to me, I’d rather not kill them if I don’t have to. There are, after all, ways of getting people to do what you want with the minimum amount of fuss.”
“You sound like someone I know,” she muttered. “What does that mean?”
“It means that you’re someone who could be useful to me. Especially with what you have on Jacob Night, not to mention your other military skills.”
Okay, so how did he know about those other skills? He couldn’t. He wouldn’t know her from a bar of soap. Unless someone had told him . . .
Something surged in her. “He’s alive,” she said. “Isn’t he?”
“Who? Your friend Joshua?” Frost nodded. “Yes.”
Her heartbeat was loud in her ears, a steady, strong beat.
She hadn’t killed him. She hadn’t shot her best friend and left him to die. He was alive....
And if he’s alive, what’s the plan now? You tell this asshole everything you know about Jacob?
Her breath hitched.
“Smith told me a lot about you, Joanna,” Frost went on. “He’s keen to have you on board, become part of our team.”
Wait, what? They wanted her to join them?
She was caught off guard. “I thought you wanted to kill me.”
“Sure. We couldn’t have you running around free, not when your connection to Smith could have been used by people who’d make life difficult for us. But that was then. This is now. And let’s just say that Smith persuaded me to change my mind.” He leaned forward all of a sudden, sunlight glinting off the metal of his ring as he clasped his hands in front of him. “Now, let’s have a little chat about Mr. Night.”
Something was going on here, she could feel it. She’d thought that using her connection to Jacob would become useful, but there was a sharp glint in Frost’s eyes. This felt like it was . . . personal almost.
She knew this had always been personal for Jacob because Jacob had been searching for his brother, involving other members of the 11th Hour team in his search. Information from Callie’s father and then from Kellan’s. All in aid of tracking down this arms ring . . .
But what if there was another connection here? One neither Jacob nor she had seen? Because why else would this man want information about him? Not when no one else knew Jacob Night existed.
She stared at him. “First th
ings first. I want proof Smith is alive.”
“He’s alive,” a deep voice said behind her.
For a second the world seemed to shift weirdly on its axis, because that voice was familiar. It was her friend’s.
It was also her lover’s.
She turned around sharply and this time the weird shift hit her doubly hard. Because there was a man stepping out onto the terrace, massively tall and muscled, dark-haired, dark-eyed. And a rush of adrenaline spiked in her blood.
Jacob.
But it wasn’t Jacob. The man coming toward her didn’t have scars on his face and he held himself differently, moving more heavily than his brother did.
Josh.
And despite herself, she felt the disappointment like the twist of a knife. Strange. She shouldn’t be disappointed, should she? She should be ecstatic, thrilled that her friend was alive and that here he was, right in front of her.
Except for the fact that you shot him. And that he shot you, not to mention he was planning on taking you prisoner.
Prisoner . . . yes, he’d mentioned that. He’d told his superiors she’d make a good hostage.
How wonderful that you turned up here then. And all without him having to lift a finger . . .
A cold current washed through her.
Josh didn’t smile. He simply stared at her and it was only now that she’d known Jacob that she could see it. There was something hollow about him, something brittle. He was missing the fire that his brother had, an iron strength and determination. Jacob was folded steel, but she had the sense that his brother had a crack in him, a flaw. And at the slightest blow, he would shatter.
“Josh,” she said thickly. She made no move toward him, because the sense that something was happening was getting stronger and stronger.
“Jo,” he said. “I knew you’d come.”
There was a tension in the air, a certain electricity that comes before a storm, and she couldn’t work out where it was coming from.
She tried to ignore it. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry about—”
“Hey, it’s okay.” Josh stuck his hands in the pockets of his jeans, his expression oddly neutral. “I’m alive, obviously.”
“So . . . what happened?”
“After you shot me? Frost came and got me out.” His gaze sharpened. “And you? I hear you lost your memory. Started working for my brother.”
“You know about him?”
“Of course I know about him.”
Shock swept through her. “But you never said anything about him to me.”
“No, because it didn’t concern you.” He took a step toward her. “But it concerns me now. I know he’s trying to find me, Jo. So I need you to tell me everything you know about him.”
There was a feverish kind of light in his dark eyes now, an intensity that reminded her of his brother. Except, Jacob’s intensity excited her. Josh’s made her feel cold.
He’s already betrayed you once. What’s to say he won’t do it again? And you came alone. You fucking idiot.
She took a slow, silent breath, trying to keep her heartbeat regular. Her military senses were already taking in any potential threats, such as the security guards on the periphery of her vision. Two of them, plus Frost and Josh, assuming Josh would stop her if she tried to get away. If she was right. If this was all a trap.
You should have thought about how you were going to get out if it all went badly.
Yes, she should have. But she hadn’t. She’d thought only of finding Josh, not what she’d do afterward.
Of course, Jacob would be tracking her and no doubt heading straight for her location since he was likely to be extremely pissed at the way she’d knocked him out. So she had some backup. No reason to get too worried yet.
She kept her gaze on her erstwhile best friend, shoving aside the feelings of hurt and loss and betrayal. It wasn’t time to get emotional. She was here, in the enemy’s stronghold, so maybe the thing to do now was a little reconnaissance. Figure out what they wanted to do with Jacob.
“How do you know he’s trying to find you?” she asked casually. “How do you know about him at all?”
An expression she didn’t understand flickered over Josh’s face, but it wasn’t he who answered.
“Good question,” Frost said from his place at the table behind her. “He’s basically a ghost. No one’s been able to find a trace of him anywhere. But I have people in various places. And when you disappeared from the hospital . . . Well, we figured out who it was then.”
She turned back to the table, meeting Frost’s cold gray eyes.
“He’s been trying to derail my business for months now,” Frost went on. “And it’s annoying. It needs to stop.”
So, right. This was personal. But it went deeper than simply Jacob derailing Frost’s business, she was sure of it. Because the same gleam that was in Josh’s gaze was in Frost’s.
Josh’s connection to Jacob was obvious, but Frost’s? Where did he fit in? He was ex-military clearly, so maybe it had to do with Jacob’s past. Had they been in the same unit?
Sunlight fell across the table, glinting off the ring on Frost’s hand, with the snarling wolf on it.
She’d seen that wolf before. The tattoo on Jacob’s chest . . .
Yes. They had been in the same unit. And she’d bet everything on the fact that it had to be the special ops unit Jacob had told her about. The unit that had been nearly wiped out, with him being the only survivor.
Except he wasn’t the only survivor. There was Frost.
So, okay. This changed things. Two men, both with a personal connection to Jacob. Frost’s motivations around his business were obvious, but there was also something else there, something more personal. And Josh’s?
She looked at Josh. “He’s looking for you. He’s been searching for you for years.”
“Years, huh?” There was an edge in his voice. “Exactly how many years are we talking?”
She frowned. “He told me that he—”
A screech of chair legs on tile cut her off. Frost had shoved back his chair and was standing. “You can have your little family reunion later, Smith,” he said coldly. “All I’m interested in right now is finding out where the hell Night is.”
Surprise crossed Josh’s face. “But you said that—”
“I don’t care what I fucking said.” Frost came around the table, moving in Joanna’s direction. “She can tell us where he is and that’s all that matters.”
All her muscles tightened automatically. The tension in the air was close to the snapping point and now that she knew where the threat was coming from, she could prepare.
“I don’t know where Jacob is,” she said, with complete honesty.
“Of course you don’t.” Frost paused in front of her. “I gave you what you wanted, Joanna. Now it’s time for you to uphold your end of the bargain.” He reached for one of the chairs and pulled it out. “Sit down and tell me everything. Now.”
Yesterday, she might have. Because what loyalty did she have to Jacob Night? He’d looked after her for six months, yes, but only because he’d wanted her memories, regardless of whatever else he’d told her. He’d wanted to find his brother, that was the beginning and end of it.
But that was before he’d told her that he’d be whatever she needed and if she needed a prince then he’d be that for her. Before he’d told her that she was his warrior princess. Before she’d seen the blood on the back of his head after she’d hit him and had felt it like pain herself.
Before she’d felt vulnerable and yet protected in his arms.
Now, the idea of betraying his secrets was . . . terrible.
You’re his. He claimed you. And that’s exactly what you want, what you’ve always been looking for. He and the 11th Hour are the home you never had.
The truth of it settled deep in her soul. Because it was true. She’d never felt such a sense of belonging, not even in the military. Being a female Army Ranger hadn’t exactly made her fit i
n, and even the special ops branch she’d been part of, where she’d thought she’d found family, hadn’t trusted her. Her superiors had thought she wouldn’t be able to do the job and had sent in people after her to finish it.
Jacob is the only one who’s ever truly trusted you.
And he had. He’d trusted her with his secrets. With his past. With his identity. He’d had no idea who Joanna was, no idea whether she’d change once she remembered who she was, and still he’d trusted her with everything.
That was a gift. She couldn’t betray him.
But Frost didn’t need to know that, did he?
Getting out of here was going to be tricky without backup but Jacob would know where she was. And he would come for her, of that she had no doubt. All she had to do was stay here until he came.
She lifted a shoulder like she didn’t care one way or the other and sat down, leaning back in the chair. “Sure,” she said. “What do you want to know?”
CHAPTER 17
“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me,” Kellan muttered. “She’s actually special ops? Seriously?”
Everyone was sitting in the living area of HQ, all staring at Jacob, gobsmacked after hearing him tell them the truth about the woman they’d been working with for six months. About how she was a special ops soldier who’d lost her memory and how, because the gun-running ring the 11th Hour had been chasing for a couple of months now had been after her, he’d decided to take care of her until her memories returned.
He did not tell them about his brother. That was information they didn’t need to know.
“No, I’m not fucking kidding you, Mr. Blake,” he said shortly. “But your questions can wait. We need a plan to get her out and we need it now.”
But Kellan was clearly not going to leave it alone. “So let me get this straight. You took her out of the hospital and looked after her for six months, purely because she had information you needed to nail these bastards?”
“Yes.” There was no point telling them about his fascination with her. That was something else they didn’t need to know. “She also needed my protection considering those same bastards were trying to kill her.”
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