Norse Security: The Complete Series

by North, Leslie

  “Seriously?”

  “Seriously.”

  “What the hell kind of ad was that?” Loki shook his head. “Spy wanted. No experience necessary?”

  “Pretty much.” She grinned and leaned her hips back against the counter beside the stove, arms crossed. “They basically had to hire me after I out-spied their operative.”

  “Out-spied? Is that a technical term?”

  “Smartass.” She tossed a piece of uncooked macaroni at his head which he easily ducked. M popped a piece in her mouth to munch on, and the movement only served to draw his attention straight back to those luscious lips of hers and all the wonderful things he’d like her to do with them. As if sensing the debauched direction of his thoughts, M looked away fast and turned to grab a bag of shredded cheese from the fridge. “No. The company’s agent was undercover trying to investigate the production company for embezzlement and I was working as a makeup artist on the movie set and ended up helping him solve the case. I knew about makeup, but nothing about espionage. The company taught me everything I know.”

  “Interesting.” Loki got up and walked over to the fridge himself to see what she had to drink. He pulled out two pale ales and opened them both before passing her one. “This place is well stocked for a hideout.”

  “Marcus stays here too, when he’s in town. Lately he’s been flying a lot out of Arlington, so you can thank him for the grub.”

  “I’ll be sure to do that the next time I see him,” Loki said, taking a swig of his beer while watching M over the rim.

  “What about you?” she asked, while mixing together milk and flour to start the cheese sauce and setting the oven to three fifty. “What drew you away from being a soldier and into the espionage business?”

  “The two aren’t so different, really,” Loki said, taking a seat on his stool again. He wasn’t telling her anything she didn’t already know, based on the facts she’d recited earlier, and it was kind of nice just to sit around and talk with a woman without an agenda on the table. “I started Norse Security because once a SEAL, always a SEAL.” He chuckled at her eyeroll. “I mean it. All that adventure and danger and the thrills? Hard to go back to a life of pushing papers after that. Plus, I wanted to start a charity, a program to help the guys who’d been wounded—mentally and physically—from their time in the service. The security company allows me the means to do that. At least it will, once we’re profitable. So far that hasn’t happened under my watch, but I’d like to make things successful. Not for me so much, but for the guys.”

  “And that’s where this mission comes in?” M asked, meeting his gaze again.

  “Yep.” Loki took another swig of his beer. “I had six months from inception of the company to make it profitable for our investors. Things have been a bit bumpy since then, but if I can complete this mission successfully, I can pay them back and have enough left over to fund the charity for a good long time.”

  With a sigh, M stirred the pasta into the now boiling water then went back to making her sauce. “Guess that puts us at odds then. Because I need this job too. And there’s no way I’m going to lose. I’ve put too much time and effort into my career to lose my promotion now.”

  “It doesn’t have to put us at odds at all, actually,” Loki said, considering things. He got up and went to help her with the sauce while she got out a strainer for the pasta then set the timer. “I’ve got a feeling this case is bigger than either of us imagined when we started. If we can find out who’s behind this data leak and break it wide open, there could be enough money and prestige to not only save my business, but help you climb the ladder in your company too.” He stirred in the cheddar cheese to the bubbling milk and flour mixture, sneaking a few bites for himself along the way. “But we’ll have to work together to do it.”

  “Together, huh?” She glanced over at him. “I suppose it can’t be any worse than hanging out at that airshow. Besides, it’ll be easier keeping an eye on you that way.”

  “Agreed.”

  “By the way, your grandma called from 1984. She wants her fanny pack back.”

  “Funny.” Loki gave her a flat look. “So, what’s our next step?”

  “Well, first, I’m going to grease up this baking dish.” She held up the pan in question. “Then I’m going to drain the pasta and dump it into the pot you’re stirring. Then you’re going to put it all into my baking dish and we’re going to let it cook for another half hour.”

  “Haha.” Loki was not amused. He loved a good smartass as much as the next guy, but this case was too important to joke about. “I mean what were your plans after we leave here.”

  “What were yours?” she countered, swinging around to face him with that big metal spoon in her hand, the curved edge of it glinting in the light just like a blade.

  On edge, he reacted without thinking. One second they were standing at the stove cooking, and the next he had M pressed up against the wall, all those soft curves he’d been admiring pressed tight to his front. She still had the spoon in her hand, which he held tight to the wall beside her head. Hot water dripped down onto his forearm, but he barely noticed. His senses were too overwhelmed with the fact that with each inhalation, her breasts nudged into him a little more firmly. Her scent—oranges and spice and warm clean woman—filled the air and it was all Loki could do not to grind his rapidly hardening cock into the heat between her legs. The fact her pupils were dilated and her cheeks were flushed told him she wanted him too, no matter how unwise that might be.

  “Tell me,” he insisted, pressing her more tightly between the wall and himself. “Where were you planning to go after this? We’re a team now, remember?”

  She smiled, slow and sexy. “A team, huh?”

  M ground herself against him in blatant invitation and it took every ounce of willpower Loki possessed not to take her right then and there against the wall of the kitchen, dinner and this mission be damned. But he’d worked too hard and too long on this company to let it all go now. He gritted his teeth and forced his wild libido back into check. “Yes, a team. Tell me where?”

  With a sigh, M relaxed against him and it was almost worse than her struggling. “Fine. I’d place another coded Craigslist ad asking about the information that was stolen from your client. I’d gotten a hit. That’s why I was at that airshow today, to meet the seller. Then all that shit went down and people started shooting at us, so that deal was blown.”

  Loki blinked down at her. “Who was the seller? What was their name?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “I don’t believe you.” He leaned in closer, his lips grazing her soft cheek. “Tell me. Tell me now or I’ll shut down that make-up vlog of yours that you love so much.”

  That got her attention, finally. M glared up at him, her eyes spitting fire. “Fuck you. You don’t know anything about it.”

  “Don’t I?” He flashed her a half-grin before returning to nuzzling the spot just below her ear, because dammit it if he couldn’t help himself. She tasted like strawberry wine and those little sounds she made deep in her throat were twice as intoxicating. “I know that you post regular segments, twice a week, and that you spend hours getting ready for them. I’d say it’s your pet project. Be a shame to lose all that data, all those videos. Hard to start all over from scratch again.”

  She arched against him, harder this time. Whether by plan or need, he couldn’t tell. M clutched the front of his shirt, her nails digging into his pecs and fuck if that didn’t feel so good. “You…can’t do anything,” she said, her voice all breathy and hot near his ear. “You don’t have my…password.”

  That last word might have been totally innocent on the surface, but the way she all but purred it into his skin made it something else entirely. Hard and aching, Loki teetered near the edge of his control, easing her trembling thighs apart to press even closer against her as she panted. Locked together about as intimately as two people could be with all their clothes still on, Loki whispered the password for h
er vlog against her parted lips.

  It was enough to break the erotic spell surrounding them.

  M shoved him hard, sending Loki stumbling back across the kitchen. She brandished the wooden spoon in front of her like a weapon, jabbing it toward his face. “Listen, asshole. You mess around with my vlog and I swear to God I will take down your beloved Wounded Warrior project so fast you won’t know what hit it, understand? You said we’re a team and this goes both ways. You can’t get the funding you need now without my help. I’m the one who has the leads. My leads, my mole. You’d be flying blind without me. The sooner you remember that, the sooner we can get this over with.” She turned back to the stove and stirred her pasta again. “Now get that sauce made so we can eat.”

  4

  “What’s your problem?” she asked Loki, as she peeked around the corner of the strip mall where they’d set up a second meeting with her seller from Craigslist. Loki had been acting weird since they’d left her apartment after dinner and she wasn’t about to sit here with a pouty man-baby all night. “You going to cry about it?”

  “What?” He glanced over at her, annoyance written all over his handsome face. “No. I’m just not used to working without a disguise, that’s all. I don’t like feeling so exposed.”

  She snorted. “There’s a dollar store over there. They might have a replacement fanny pack for you.”

  He cut her off with a rude finger gesture. Nice. M grinned and turned back to watch for the white Honda Civic their mole said he’d be driving. Good thing this “team” between them was only temporary, because she found herself wanting this guy way more than she should. She was used to fast flings—wham, bam, thank you sir sort of deals. No muss, no fuss. No strings attached. But there was something about Loki that made her reconsider her choices. And for a gal in her profession that was far too dangerous. Not to mention that he looked better than a man should be allowed in those tight faded jeans and black T-shirt of his, the 80s death metal insignia notwithstanding. Her fingertips itched to dig into those taut chest muscles of his again, to feel his hard length pressed into the warm heat between her legs, to…

  Thankfully an old Honda clunker chugged into the parking lot at that moment, ending that forbidden train of thought. Yeah, she had it bad for this guy and that wasn’t good.

  “C’mon. That’s him,” she said to Loki before straightening to smooth her hands down the front of her black leather miniskirt. She’d chosen to go for the punk rock look tonight, with a short black Mohawk wig and ripped fishnets beneath her skirt. Combat boots and a black leather bustier completed the ensemble. At least she had the satisfaction of Loki’s dazed stare to let her know she looked good. “I’ll act like I’m browsing the store windows while you sneak around back to keep him from running.”

  Loki gave a curt nod then peered around her at the new arrival. “Shit.”

  “What?” M scowled.

  “I know that guy.”

  “Really? Who is he?” From the looks of the driver now exiting the Honda, she would’ve pegged the guy as a scientist, or maybe comic book store owner. Classic geek. Not exactly the type to hang around in their circles. “How do you know him?”

  “He’s a spy, like us.”

  “Seriously?” M scrunched her nose. “Looks like a stiff wind could take him down.”

  “Don’t believe everything you see. He’s a black belt in jujitsu.” Loki cracked his knuckles. “His hands are listed as lethal weapons.”

  M gave their mole a second look. Nope. Still didn’t see it. The most lethal thing about that guy would appear to be his fashion sense. That had to be about the ugliest polyester shirt she’d ever seen in her life. Olive green and shades of brown striped with red-orange. Ugh. She shuddered with distaste before checking the Glock secured in a holster around her upper thigh. “Whatever. I’m going in.”

  “Wait.” Loki grabbed her arm to stop her. “Be careful. I’m telling you, that guy’s bad news. I worked with him on a couple of missions when I was a SEAL. He had access to all kinds of classified intel about the military. If he’s the one selling my client’s secrets, we are in deep shit.”

  “Yep. Because that means he hired both of us to do the same thing, pitting us against each other. Except we’re too smart for him. He didn’t bargain on us teaming up. Oh, and in case you were wondering ‘in deep shit’ is my favorite place to be.” She winked and sauntered out, leaving a grumbling Loki in her wake. Whoever the hell this guy was, she’d handle it. She’d met way tougher-looking characters during her time in this job. They’d all tried to take her down, but no one had succeeded. Not yet anyway. If she was going down, it would be because of someone far better prepared, and far better dressed, than this douchebag.

  From the corner of her eye she saw a shadow dart from the side of the building and knew that Loki was taking up his position in the rear. Good man. Now there was a guy she wouldn’t mind getting taken down by, or up, or any direction for that matter. But at present they had more important things to contend with. Like her mole, who had just stepped up onto the sidewalk and was headed for the cell phone store down the way where they’d planned to meet.

  M slowly made her way down there too, stopping periodically to peer inside the stores to allow Loki to get into position. By the time she stood shoulder to shoulder with polyester man, her palms were damp and her pulse was racing with adrenaline. Jobs always did that to her. The thrill of the chase.

  “You got my information?” she asked, staring straight ahead at a poster for a new smart phone.

  “You got my money?” polyester man countered, staring at the same poster.

  The sound of a gun cocking took them both by surprise.

  “I don’t know what the hell you’re up to, Schmidt, but you need to step the fuck over here around the side of the building so we can discuss this properly.” Loki’s deep voice was laced with anger. “Move it. Now.”

  M hazarded a glance at him then and saw his stony expression. This wasn’t part of her original plan, but the guy had a loaded weapon pointed directly at the base of her mole’s skull. Now wasn’t the best time to argue about it.

  They walked slowly to the other end of the strip mall complex and around the corner into the shadows. As soon as they were out of sight, Loki had the smaller man pressed back against the brick wall, a forearm at his throat, threatening to block his airway at the slightest provocation. “Tell me why the fuck you’re here and why the fuck you’re selling info on my client. And don’t even think about lying to me. I’ll know and you won’t like the consequences.”

  The smaller man—Schmidt, Loki had called him—clawed at the arm barring his escape and whispered, “I’ll tell you whatever you want, but let me breathe.”

  Loki exhaled slowly, then eased up the pressure on the other man’s trachea a bit. M felt the knot of tension between her own shoulder blades ease as well. “Spill it.”

  “You think this is all about your arms-selling client, but you’re wrong, man.” Schmidt coughed. “So wrong. These data leaks reach well beyond just weapons now. They’re targeting the military, stealing battle plans and coordinates.”

  “Fuck.” Loki inhaled sharply and M narrowed her gaze, putting the pieces together. If the government’s leaks extended that far, then countless soldiers’ lives were in danger. They needed to find whoever was doing this and end them. Now. Before innocent lives were lost.

  “Who are you working for?” Loki growled, hoisting the smaller guy up by the front of his ugly shirt again.

  Schmidt gave them both an unpleasant little smile. “Same as you, I suppose. An interested third party who wants to keep the status quo intact and stop the leaks.”

  “Why did you answer my ad on Craigslist?” M scowled. “Was it to track us here?”

  “It flagged on my radar. Figured it wouldn’t hurt to see what you guys knew.” Schmidt shrugged as best he could, dangling off the ground like he was. “Have to admit, I’m glad to see you on the job, Low. You were the best in
a scrape.”

  Tired of this bullshit, Loki got to the point. “Who’s the mole, Schmidt?”

  The smaller man snorted. “You’ll never guess.”

  “And we won’t have to, since you’re going to tell us.” M pulled out a small, curved shucking knife from the pocket of her jacket and held it up to Schmidt’s cheek, the razor-sharp blade glinting in the pale light. “Who is it?”

  “Todd Martin.”

  Loki frowned. “The pop star?”

  “See? Told you you’d never guess.” Schmidt chuckled. “Nobody ever suspects that guy.”

  “I don’t believe you.” M brought the knife closer to Schmidt’s cheek and snarled. “Why the fuck would some jackass teeny-bopper singer be involved in selling government secrets?”

  “Because his real name is Tardova Marcagonoff and his parents were ex-KGB.” Schmidt tried to inch away from M’s blade, but Loki held him firmly in place. “When they cut a deal with the US government to turn over evidence of Russian spying in exchange for asylum in this country, the burying of theirs and their son’s pasts was part of the bargain.”

  “Shit.” Loki shook his head. “So some twenty-something kid is responsible for all this mess? Where does that leave us? Our missions?”

  “Well, I figure you’re in the same spot you were before. You want to save your company and she wants to get ahead in her career. The challenge is how to decide which of you will get what you want.” Schmidt eyed M’s blade warily. “Now let me go. I told you what you wanted.”

  “How do we find this Martin kid?” M asked.

  “He’ll be in town tomorrow night for the charity ball at the convention center.” Schmidt swallowed hard, then flinched as M pressed the tip of the knife into his jaw. A dot of crimson swelled in its wake. “I swear. My plan was to get in there myself if tonight didn’t pan out. Loki should have no problem, since his company’s backer is also funding the ball.”

  “Truth?” M glanced at Loki, who was still glowering at the little man in his grasp. “You can get us into this charity thing?”