by Liliana Hart
“Shit, shit, shit,” he whispered even as he slammed his computers closed, hoping the information inside of them would be saved on impact.
He was going to die. An agent the government would never claim, killed in the line of duty, crushed in an elevator shaft halfway across the world.
“Cypher,” Gabe commanded. “What’s happening?” A man like Gabe Brennan didn’t panic. He was ice.
“She’s in the elevator,” he said quickly. He rolled flat and used his fist to punch through the flimsy metal ceiling panels just as the elevator jerked to a stop a few feet from the spinning turbine.
He went ass over elbow into the elevator, along with his laptops and the rest of the ceiling, but he rolled to his feet quickly in case she tried to finish him off before she saw his face. His computers were fucked, and that pissed him off all the more.
If it had been anyone else in this situation he would’ve laughed, but he wasn’t finding anything funny at the moment. If everyone came out alive and with their jobs intact they’d be damned lucky.
She leaned against the corner of the elevator, out of the way of the debris, as if she hadn’t a care in the world, a smirk on her full lips and her gaze buried into the tablet-like device in her hand as she issued it commands. A device that was still in the prototype phase and wasn’t out on the consumer market yet. He had one very similar to it. And he wondered where the hell she’d been hiding it because there was barely breathing room in that outfit she wore.
He took the comm unit from his ear and dropped it on the ground, crushing it beneath his heel. He’d never sacrificed the mission for anyone or anything before. But he was about to break that rule. Because he owed one man his life.
She didn’t bother looking at him, and he wondered where she’d gotten the balls to stand there like the stakes where too small to mess with. He would’ve admired her for it if he hadn’t been so furious.
“You’ve been out of play for too long, Cypher. You’re nosing your way into someone else’s game,” she said in Russian. “I expected much more from someone with your reputation, but it’s clear your day is over. You lose. I’ll see you down to the bottom floor so you can make your way out.”
She leaned forward to press the button to go back down, but he reached up and grabbed her arm. He wanted to shake some sense into, and he couldn’t remember the last time he’d been so angry he was trembling with rage. Her head came up and her mouth opened to spew something at him, but she finally got a good look at his face. And all of the color left hers.
He didn’t give her a chance to work her magic on her device, but instead jerked it out of her hand and took her by the arm like a willful child. She was a willful child. What was she? Eighteen? Twenty? And when he saw the fear on her face he realized how little she knew about the kind of game she was playing.
He hit the door open button on the control panel and then pulled her into the cavernous sixth floor, quickly jamming the elevator door so no one else could use it.
Cold drafts of air blew from one side of the floor to the other. Some of the windows were missing and large sheets of plastic were tacked over them, rattling and flapping beneath the piercing wind. He welcomed the cold air as it blasted his overheated body.
“You’ve got about five minutes to explain to me why I should save your ass. You have got to be out of your fucking mind, Evangeline.” The angrier he got the more pronounced his low country accent. You could take the boy out of South Carolina…
She flinched at the use of her name, but straightened her shoulders and tried to jerk out of his hold. He had an even bigger urge to cover her up. She’d changed a lot since the last time he’d seen her. And he wasn’t altogether comfortable with it.
Sweat glistened across her skin even though puffs of white from the cold escaped her mouth. Her pulse fluttered in her neck and he could see the fear in her expression. But she didn’t back down. She’d always had more attitude than common sense. Because he was really, really pissed, and that defiant tilt of her chin was close to sending him right over the edge.
“I’m twenty years old. You’re not my keeper, Cal”
“You sure as shit need one, sugar. What the hell is your father going to say? You’re not only bringing yourself down, but you’re ruining the career and legacy of one of the best men I’ve ever known. So start fucking explaining yourself.” He let her go and then stood with his legs slightly spread and his arms crossed over his chest.
“Chill out. It’s just a game. You know that better than anyone. Right, Cypher?”
Her lips were slicked red and she smirked at him, arching an eyebrow in challenge. His body jerked in response, and his cock spiked hard as iron. That was not the look of an inexperienced woman. She had the kind of curves he loved, and damned if he could help the reaction his body had to them. But it was the combination of what she could accomplish with that brain of hers along with the body that was overloading his system. She was bad, bad, bad, and for some reason that appealed to his perverse self. He was going to be in big trouble if he didn’t get his shit together.
“To think it was you all this time,” she purred. “My biggest challenge. I’ve got to say, I thought the smell of victory would be sweeter.”
“Yeah, congratulations, Evie. You win. You’re surrounded by one of the best black ops teams in existence. I’ve got your computer,” he said, holding it up, “and we have all the data showing that you’re about to sell nuclear launch codes to one of our country’s biggest enemies. So tell me again how you beat me?”
She rolled her eyes and shrugged. “It’s not like the launch codes are real. I’m not an idiot. And despite what you think, I do know what my father does for a living. Saint Robert Lockwood. America’s top spy. Looks like he doesn’t know everything.”
Tears glistened in her eyes and he wondered what happened to the little girl who’d followed him around the first time he stepped foot in the Lockwood home as a fourteen year old boy. She’d annoyed the shit out of him. Yet he’d never told her to go away. She’d been eight years old and one of the only friends he could remember having during his childhood.
He thought of Robert like a second father, but he had no clue what the relationship was like between father and daughter. The tug of sympathy in his chest surprised him. He wasn’t a man to show empathy or dole out forgiveness either. And here he was ready to do it for a half-grown girl who deserved a better life than the one she was setting herself up for.
“You should be the last person to judge.” Anger flashed in her eyes. “You know what it takes to work your way up the hierarchy. I pull this off and I’m Queen.”
“Are you really so naïve that you think you can double cross a man like Yukov and get away with it? You think he doesn’t have his own personal army of hackers? You’ve heard of Tsar Ivan, right? He’s been off the grid as long as I have. Who do you think he’s working for?”
Cal shook his head in frustration. “You’re playing an adult’s game with the rules of a child. Yukov will hunt you down and kill you if you deliver him fake launch codes. And he will kill you painfully.”
“So what am I supposed to do? If you say someone like Tsar Ivan is working for Yukov then it looks like I’m fucked either way. Ivan might be out of the game, but I’ve studied his work. He’s been around a long time. And he’s good.”
“He’s not better than me,” Cal said. It wasn’t an empty boast.
“You’d fix this for me?” she asked, the surprise evident in her voice. “Why would you do something like that?”
“First of all because of your father. He was more of a dad to me than my own ever was.”
“Yeah, I know,” she said, rolling her eyes. “All I ever heard about growing up was you. You’re the son he never had and I’m the daughter he never wanted.”
“Cut the bullshit, Evie. You know how many meals I’ve sat through hearing about awards you received, milestones you made, and boyfriends that would never be good enough for the daughter of Robert
Lockwood? You’re that man’s world, and you’re living in a fantasy.
“Which is the second reason I’m doing this. I remember the little girl with the curious eyes and adult brain who followed me around like a puppy. And the teenager with braces and an infectious laugh. You’re doing yourself and everyone who knows you a disservice. So yes, I’m going to fix this for you, but you’re going to do it on my terms. My rules.”
“Go to hell, Cal.”
Her eyes flashed fire and defiance, and the heat under his skin had nothing to do with the temperature inside the room. He shook his head to clear it and his anger turned toward himself. What the hell was wrong with him?
“My rules,” he repeated. “You have ten seconds to make a decision. Then I’m going to turn you over to the team.”
Her eyes bored holes into him as he counted down the seconds. He wasn’t bluffing. And she wasn’t budging. He was about two seconds from saying to hell with it all and throwing her over his shoulder when she nodded her head.
“Fine. Your rules.”
“The Black Lily dies tonight,” he said. “Every trace of her will be wiped from existence. Game over.”
Her mouth dropped open in shock. “You can’t do that,” she argued, her voice getting louder. Her hands fisted and he wondered if she was going to take a swing at him. He couldn’t blame her if she tried. “She’s everything. The best part of me. You have no idea what you’re doing.”
“I know exactly what I’m doing to you. And you’re wrong. She’s not the best part of you. She’s a criminal. Evangeline Lockwood runs circles around her, and she’ll always be the better of the two in my mind. You relinquish everything having to do with The Black Lily. Not even a whisper of your presence in any of the underground circles. I’ll be watching.”
“You’re taking everything away from me. I’d almost rather die.”
“That’ll be your choice,” he said harshly. “Or you can grow up and put your talent to use. Finish college. Do something worthwhile instead of being hell bent for your destruction and everyone else’s. You think I don’t understand the pull? The power that comes over you when your fingers touch the keyboard? The lust to walk on the wild side anonymously from the comfort of your bedroom? I was you. And I can tell you as sure as I’m standing here that if your father hadn’t shown up on my doorstep then I wouldn’t be here today. So yes, I know exactly what I’m doing to you. And for you.”
“Fuck you, Cal. I don’t need the lecture. I agreed to your terms.”
“The lecture is free. Right now you’re thinking The Black Lily is your true identity. The part of you no one knows and no one really understands. She’s more interesting and smarter. But that’s nothing but a bunch of lies.
“I know Evangeline Lockwood. And she’s not this person. She’s good. And kind. She makes cookies for teenage boys who find themselves at her dinner table for Thanksgiving and Christmas, and she talks to animals when she thinks no one is listening. She’s strong and smart. And interesting. And believe me when I tell you I can count on one hand the number of women I’ve met who fit that description.”
Tears streamed down her cheeks, smearing the heavy eye makeup she wore. She was a pretty girl. And one day she’d be a beautiful woman for someone else to handle. Thank God. Because she had more spirit than anyone he’d ever met. She was only a little misdirected. And he had to get the hell out of this room and away from her because she was scrambling his brains. Maybe it was her eyes. They’d always haunted him. Only now when he saw her in his mind he’d be seeing those luscious curves and fuck me smirk.
Between the adrenaline rush and his need to take care of her—out of a sense of guilt or camaraderie he couldn’t be sure—he felt himself being tangled in a web that would be hell to get out of. Her mind fascinated him. Her talent challenged him. And her body made him have thoughts he had no business having. There was only six years between them in age, but those six years seemed like a lifetime.
“I hate you for this,” she finally said. “I’ll do it, but I’ll hate you forever.”
He was almost relieved. “I can live with that. Plenty of people have hated me before.”
“Then what are you waiting for? It’s time for The Black Lily to die.”
CHAPTER TWO
* * *
Surrender, Montana
Six Months Ago…
Shane MacKenzie was a man who’d always had a purpose in life.
He’d been the youngest of “those MacKenzie kids.” And he’d milked it for all it was worth, as anyone with three older brothers and four older cousins would have done if they’d been in his position.
But it hadn’t taken long for him to tire of trying to fight his way to the top of the pile or land the first punch. He loved his family, but he’d never been an individual. Just one of those MacKenzie boys, always looking for trouble, women, or a good fight. Not necessarily in that order. Of course, their reputations had changed since they’d grown up and started families of their own, but he’d always felt a little bit like an outsider. And he’d often wondered how it was possible to feel alone in a family of that size.
He hadn’t become his own person until he’d joined the Navy—where he’d found out brotherhood wasn’t bound by blood. Suffering through hell week and BUD/S separated the boys from the men and forged bonds stronger than DNA ever could. To know a team of men so well that it was as if his brain was wired to theirs.
Shane had excelled in the military, moving up the ranks quickly, and he’d become a commander of some of the best men he’d ever had the privilege of leading through some of the most horrendous experiences one could imagine. He’d lived for the next assignment and the thrill of doing a job that very few people in the world could do.
But just like that, in the blink of an eye—or in his case the flash of an explosion—his life changed irrevocably. His leg was gone. The other so severely damaged he almost wished it was gone too. The brutality of BUD/S had nothing on physical therapy and the doctor who was hell bent on making him do the exercises day in and day out, even though he sometimes thought he’d pass out from the pain.
And now he had nothing. He was nothing. Because his career had defined him as a man, and he was discovering that maybe he wasn’t quite the man he thought he was. He sure as hell didn’t like the man he’d been living with the past weeks.
He sat on the edge of his bed and stared at the bottle of whiskey. It was already three quarters of the way gone. Drinking numbed the pain a little, and it helped keep the monsters in his head from screaming too loud. The bottle of Percocet sat next to it, mocking him.
Doctor Shaw had told him to fight through the pain. To wait past the point of when he thought he needed the pills before he took them, just so he knew he could. So he didn’t rely on the hazy illusion of being pain-free. But now she was gone too. He’d managed to run her off, even though she’d vowed she wouldn’t give up on him, and he was alone once again.
He’d told his family to stay away, and he’d denied entry to his SEAL team—his brothers—when they’d tried to visit. How could he possibly allow them to see him this way? It was best they remembered him for what he’d been.
His good leg throbbed unmercifully and the stub of what was left of his other leg hurt more than it had a right to, considering there wasn’t anything there to hurt.
Maybe he’d run his course in life. Maybe he’d done exactly what he was supposed to for the time he’d been able. It had been a good life. A worthy life. But he didn’t feel like fighting through the pain. And in his wildest dreams, he couldn’t imagine what worth there was in the rest of his life. What purpose he could possibly serve?
He should have felt something—fear maybe. Definitely anger. But even that emotion was numbed to nothing.
Shane unscrewed the cap on the whiskey, his hand trembling, and he poured the remainder in a tumbler so it filled to the rim. And then he opened the bottle of pills and poured them all out into his hand.
“I never to
ok you for a coward.”
Shane didn’t look up. He just kept staring at the pills in his hand. “I thought you quit,” he said.
“Nope. I told you I wouldn’t quit. I just had to take a walk in the cold to keep from strangling you. You need to work on your sweet talk, MacKenzie. I’m never going to marry you if you keep this up. Think what a great wife I’ll make. I’m already an expert at ignoring you and telling you to get off your lazy ass.”
Shane shook his head and let out the breath he’d been holding. Doctor Lacy Shaw was an enigma that he couldn’t begin to understand. His brother Declan had hired her to rehabilitate him. She was a tiny thing, maybe a couple inches over five feet. But there was a core strength in her that was deceptive. She could pick him up when he fell—which had been often at the beginning—and she could give him a tongue-lashing that would put any Navy brass to shame.
He’d put her through hell and still she stayed. And all he could figure is that Declan must be paying her a hell of a lot to put up with his shit. Why else would she care what the hell happened to him?
He hadn’t made it easy on her and had no plans of starting. The last thing he wanted was another person to see him at his weakest. To witness the worst of him. But she wouldn’t leave, no matter how hard he tried to push her away. Stubborn fool.
“Blizzard’s coming. You’d better leave now while you can.”
“Sure. Get your ass up and put some clothes on. We’ll go for a drive before the roads close. The fresh air will do you good.”
He finally looked up and made eye contact. She wasn’t a beautiful woman by traditional standards, but that somehow seemed wrong to say. Because he found himself watching her more and more.
Her face was small and all angles—pointed chin and a sharp nose that was just slightly crooked. A square jaw that look like it could take a punch and skin like alabaster. Her hair was dark blond and hung just below her chin, and her brows were a shade darker, making him wonder if it was her real hair color. She wore jeans and a loose sweater, just like she did every day, and a smirk rested on her full lips.
