by Abby Blake
But the one thing he knew for certain was that he wasn’t a traitor. If he could only rely on himself for this mission, then that’s what he’d do. He pressed a kiss to Kristen’s temple and silently vowed to protect her from anyone meaning her harm—no matter who that person was.
Somewhere between the highway and the motel she’d lost consciousness once more. She was still quite pale, but at least she seemed to be sleeping comfortably this time. Trying not to wake her, Dyson half lifted, half dragged her across the backseat. Angus followed her out, his hand never letting go of Kristen’s. They followed Thomas to the door of the room. He unlocked it, did a quick visual sweep of the small space, and then stood back to let them enter.
* * * *
Angus tried to stay out of the way, without actually letting go of her hand, while Dyson placed Kristen in the middle of the king-size bed. Considering their current orders—to be close to her at all times—it was a relief to at least have space enough to stretch out. He was unlikely to get a lot of sleep over the next few days, but at least by lying down comfortably he’d be able to get a measure of rest.
Kristen moaned quietly as she woke, and both he and Dyson moved to comfort her. Dyson’s actions certainly didn’t seem to be the behavior of a man with something to hide. If he’d truly meant the woman harm, he’d had ample opportunity to hurt her over the past three days. They all had. He was probably going with gut feeling on this one, but it seemed unlikely that any of them who’d been on assignment could have somehow organized apparently simultaneous attacks on all three “safe” houses at the same time. In fact, Angus hadn’t even known where Amber had been housed at the time of the attacks.
“Thomas,” he said as the man walked back into the room, “Benjamin definitely said the attacks were on ‘safe’ houses, didn’t he?” Thomas nodded and Dyson lifted into a sitting position to watch him more closely. “Who would have known the location of all three? I mean, I knew where Hannah was being protected—we all did—but who knew where Amber was?”
“Only a handful,” Thomas said, rubbing his head like he had a headache. It couldn’t be easy for the guy. He’d been second in charge of PUP Squad Alpha for the past fifty years. To have any doubts about the loyalty of the men he’d worked and fought side by side with for so long must have felt awful.
In some ways, Angus had it a lot easier. Yes, he’d worked with most of the squad at one time or another over the past decade, but it wasn’t like he’d made any lasting friendships. If anything, he was the guy most likely to be able to see the actions of a traitor simply because he had very little history or emotional memories of these men to fall back on.
“It narrows it down,” Adam said as he stepped in through the doorway. “With the wards on at the safe house there was no way to get messages to or from anyone other than by cell phone. And no way to turn off the wards without alerting the others. Cell phone records are fairly easy to trace, so we should at least be able to eliminate some suspects.” He gave them a half smile and added, “That’s of course assuming that we’re dealing with only one traitor.”
“You think there might be more than one?” Dyson asked in a voice that made it obvious he was struggling to hide the shock.
Adam shrugged. “It makes sense. PUP operatives usually work in pairs and Deeks Security follows similar mission protocols. What are the chances of someone you’ve worked that closely with for years being able to betray us without their partner noticing?”
“You’ve got a point,” Dyson said with a slow nod of his head, “but if that’s the case, it makes things even more complicated.”
“Maybe not,” Angus said as he glanced at the men around him. “Seems to me there have been quite a few changes within PUP Squad Alpha in the past few months.”
“That’s true,” Thomas said, looking thoughtful. “So it is possible that we are only dealing with one traitor.” He glanced at Kristen sleeping between Angus and Dyson. “Now we just have to hope that the traitor isn’t one of us.”
Chapter Three
Kristen woke lying on an unfamiliar bed in an unfamiliar room. The only things she actually recognized were the men lying either side of her.
“Good morning, sweetheart,” Dyson said as she snuggled closer to the man behind her. The arm around her middle tightened, pulling her closer before she realized what she was doing. She’d spent three days with these men within arm’s reach, but this was the first time she’d actually found herself in such a compromising position. Whatever had happened to bring them here must have been serious.
Vague half memories of loud sirens and nausea filled her brain, and for a moment, she felt the discomfort she’d suffered from earlier. “What happened?”
“Assassins found us, so we had to move quickly. How’s your head? Do you need some aspirin?”
“My head is fi—” She cut her words off as the beginning of that sentence sank in. “Did you say ‘assassins’ as in more than one? I thought you said I was the target of a serial killer?”
“Kristen, there’s a lot of stuff we need to explain, but it might be better if we grab some coffee first.”
Kristen started to nod, but then that anger that she’d felt the day she’d been retrenched from her job started to burn low in her belly. All her life she’d waited patiently for her turn, putting the needs of others first, doing everything she could to make certain the people around her didn’t feel uncomfortable. And where had it gotten her? Unemployed and on the run from assassins? What the hell had she done to deserve this? She wriggled until Dyson let her sit up. She rested her back against the headboard as she gave both men the most annoyed expression she could muster.
“Explain it to me now,” she said in a tone of voice she hoped conveyed her mood accurately. “You said ‘serial killer.’ Why did you lie?”
Angus leaned over, touched her face with his hand, and shook his head slightly. “We didn’t really lie. The assassins who came after you are being paid by someone who is targeting women born the same day as you.”
“H–How did they find us?”
Both men looked uncomfortable at that question, and for a second, she didn’t think they were going to answer. Finally, Dyson glanced at Angus before turning his attention back to her.
“We don’t know,” Dyson said with a hint of vulnerability that tore at her heart. It was clear that he prided himself on his work and his ability to control the circumstances of her protection.
“I trust you,” she said impulsively. “I know I can trust all four of you to keep me safe.” It was probably wishful thinking, and really when it came down to it, she didn’t know any of them well enough to make that assumption, but she was willing to go on faith on this one. The alternative—trust nobody—was too frightening to consider.
“Good to know,” Angus said with a grin that made her feel glad that she’d spoken her mind. Dyson seemed relieved as well.
Hell, maybe that had been her problem all along. If she didn’t say what she felt, how would the people around her ever know? It was probably something she could work on improving—starting now.
“Okay, time for coffee,” she said, shimmying toward the edge of the bed, “and then you can tell me the rest of what’s going on.”
“Of course,” Dyson said with a mischievous grin a moment before he rolled off the bed and took her with him. She was practically on her feet before she could blink. In fact, it gave her a similar type of dizziness she’d experienced yesterday.
“Is that how I got the headache?” she asked with a raised eyebrow. He gave her a happy smile, threaded his fingers through hers, and led her into the corner that held supplies for instant coffee.
“Not exactly,” Angus answered as he took a seat at the tiny circular table squished into the corner of the motel room. “The thing we didn’t tell you is that…” His words trailed off as he looked to Dyson for some sort of assistance.
“We’re paranormals,” Dyson said, his fingers tightening around hers momentarily as t
hey both seemed to hold their breath.
“Paranormals? I don’t understand what you mean. Is that like a paratrooper? You’re military?”
Both men seemed confused by her confusion. Maybe they should have had their coffee before starting this conversation.
“No,” Angus said slowly, almost like he was expecting her to flee. “Paranormal as in not human. Belonging to a different species.”
“Oh,” she said as she waited for the punch line. Surely they were joking. When neither man seemed ready to elaborate, she wracked her brain for the definition of “paranormal.” She’d always been a bit of a sci-fi fan, but it wasn’t a word she’d come across often. “Paranormal as in vampires and…uh…werewolves and ghosts and stuff?”
“And demons, angels, shifters, warlocks, and witches.” Dyson’s hand tightened around hers as he spoke, and she finally realized both men were bracing for her rejection. She squeezed Dyson’s hand in what she hoped was a reassuring manner, and then tried to understand what they were telling her.
“So you two are?”
“We’re both demons, but not in the human religious sense of the word. We’re not from a hell dimension or anything like that. We’re just nonhuman people born into the same world as you.”
Both men looked, sounded, and acted human. Maybe being paranormal was more of a geographical thing, like being born in a different country or something.
“Is the person who’s trying to kill me paranormal also?”
“We’re not sure who is hiring the assassins, but the assassins who came for you yesterday were pixies.”
“Pixies?” She immediately placed a hand over her mouth. She hadn’t meant to react quite so loudly, but it wasn’t every day that mythical creatures tried to kill her. She was actually beginning to wonder if maybe she was still asleep. She pinched her arm really hard and regretted it instantly.
Damn, that hurt!
And, unfortunately, proved she wasn’t dreaming.
Dyson pulled her into his embrace, his warm arms wrapping around her, holding her close, holding her safe. “I know this is a lot to take in all at once, but I promise you that we will protect you with our lives.”
“Absolutely,” Angus said as he took over making coffee and let Dyson lead her to the table. He sat on the chair and pulled her onto his lap. She’d never been coddled like this before, and as much as her internal, independent female voice yelled at her, she ignored it in favor of the feeling that being close to these men evoked. It was quite nice to just be able to let someone else worry about the details for a change.
She didn’t really want to disturb the peaceful feeling with a lot of questions, but it was probably appropriate for her to ask for at least a few details. “How does my headache yesterday fit in with the pixie assassins and you two being demons? It was yesterday, wasn’t it? I feel like I slept a long time, but it was only one night, I think.”
Angus placed two coffees in front of her and smiled. “Yes, it was only yesterday.” He took the only other seat at the tiny table and glanced at Dyson again before continuing. “Dyson and I have a way to get to different places almost instantly. We call it slip travel. We basically step from one point to another through a type of dimensional doorway. It can be very uncomfortable for humans.” He glanced at Dyson. “How did Kali describe it?”
“Like she’d been put in a paint shaker,” Dyson answered.
Angus smiled and nodded. “Most of the time, the feeling passes quickly, but yesterday, in order to hide our trail from the pixies, we also went through a dragon jump vortex.” He reached over and placed his hand against her cheek. “We’ll avoid doing that in the future. The combination of the two is what made you so sick. If it’s necessary, we’ll call a warlock for an emergency evacuation. Their form of travel doesn’t seem to affect humans at all.”
“Oh, okay,” Kristen said, trying to take in the concept of traveling in the blink of an eye.
“We’ll stick to human-style transport for a while,” Angus assured her.
“That’ll make Thomas very happy,” Dyson said with a deep chuckle. “He still looks green from yesterday’s car ride.”
“Remind me again why I haven’t fired you yet,” Thomas said as he came through the connecting door between the motel rooms. It was obvious he was joking, but she was thoroughly distracted by the delicious smell coming from the tray of coffee cups in Thomas’s hands.
“Real coffee?” she asked as she noticed he carried five cups and a big box of donuts.
“Yes, my sweet, real coffee.”
She felt Dyson tense at the endearment, but the delivery had felt more brotherly than Dyson apparently interpreted it.
Kristen took the coffee that Thomas handed her, but politely refused a donut. After years of eating a granola bar for breakfast, the idea of that much fat and sugar this early in the morning made her feel queasy.
“So have these two explained what’s going on yet?” Adam asked as he grabbed his own coffee and a huge chocolate donut covered in raspberry sprinkles.
“About demons and stuff?” she asked with a small smile. She was half expecting them all to have a good laugh and then explain what was really going on.
Thomas smiled. “So you’re not going to run screaming when you realize you’re being protected by an ice demon, a fire demon, and two werewolves then?”
“You’re a w–werewolf?”
“You almost said it without stuttering,” Thomas said with a wide grin. He gave her a wink, leaned against the cabinet, crossed his arms, and then turned serious. “I know it’s a lot to take in, but you’ll get used to it. I’m afraid it does mean that life as you knew it is over. Even if we figure out who is trying to kill you, it’s very unlikely that you’ll ever get back to living your normal life.”
He gave her a sympathetic look so she tried to hide the relief that she was feeling. Not going back to being invisible was about the best news she’d gotten all week. She was leaving very little behind—she was currently unemployed, had no living family and apparently no friends. Starting over with a clean slate was definitely her idea of a good thing, even with the demons and werewolves part.
“Anyway,” Thomas said, “we’re planning to stay on the move so that we’re harder to find. Do you have any preferences on accommodation?”
She was about to shake her head and follow her instincts to not make demands, but this was her new life now and she was a whole new person. She refused to make the same mistakes twice.
“I would prefer somewhere with cooking facilities if that’s possible. Takeout is fine for a little while, but home-cooked meals are better.” She bit back the urge to add, “Unless it’s too much bother.”
Thomas smiled. “I reckon that could be arranged.” He turned to leave the room, but stopped and looked over his shoulder. “As long as you don’t plan on cooking vegetarian.” His words were said in jest. It was obvious he’d grumble good-naturedly if she said she actually was planning vegetarian meals, but she figured with him being a werewolf—she was still a little stunned by that revelation—he would prefer plenty of meat.
She couldn’t help teasing him just a little. “Vegetables, yes, but…lots of meat to go with them.”
“In that case, you better make me a shopping list,” Thomas said with another of those charming smiles that she somehow understood wasn’t really meant for her. He was acting more like a big brother than a potential suitor, but judging by the arm that tightened around her middle, Dyson didn’t realize the difference. It felt ridiculously wonderful to have someone notice her enough to act a little jealous.
Thomas reached into his pocket, seemed to realize he didn’t have his phone on him, and so glanced at the wall clock instead. “We move out in an hour. Dyson, you remember that portable ward generator you were working on last year? Any chance we could rig one up?”
“With the right equipment,” Dyson said, sounding all business. “I can give you a list, but it’s probably wise to collect the pieces over sev
eral different places. We don’t want to alert anyone to what we’re building or leave a traceable shopping trail behind us.”
Thomas nodded in agreement. Dyson quickly scribbled a list of stuff, most of which Kristen had never even heard of before, and then handed her the pen. She added the ingredients for steak, potatoes in the jacket, and salad, and then remembering how much food these men could actually eat, quickly doubled the portions and handed the list to Thomas.
“Perfect,” he said as he glanced at her ingredients. The safe house had been filled with long-life type foods, mainly canned and freeze-dried stuff that could be easily reheated. If that’s how they usually ate on assignment, then freshly prepared meals were probably rare. She’d always enjoyed cooking, and it would be a lot more interesting creating meals for more than one.
Chapter Four
Dyson watched Kristen put the finishing touches on an evening meal that smelled delicious. She was a talented cook, and his mouth watered just at the sight of the food, but it didn’t stop him from getting pissed off. For the past two weeks, the woman they were protecting had cooked three meals a day for them, almost running herself ragged making certain they were all fed. It just didn’t sit well with him.
She wasn’t here as their housemaid. They were supposed to be taking care of her. Not the other way around.
“You know you don’t have to cook,” Dyson said as he helped her carry the plates to the dining table of the cabin they were renting.
“I like cooking,” she said, managing to avoid his gaze as if she didn’t truly believe her own words. It was just one more reason for him to worry that she felt she owed them somehow.
“But you don’t have to. We’re quite capable of feeding ourselves and you.” He glanced at the annoyed looks worn by all three of his teammates. It was true that Kristen cooked better than all of them, but it still didn’t mean she should.
