by Kris Norris
Dungeon avoided the punch Crow tossed his way, making his way back along the corridor. Crow took one more look at the exit—tried not to judge all the ways he’d just colossally failed—then trailed after his buddy. Dungeon was right. They needed to make a plan—one that would finally put Slader right where he belonged. In Crow’s crosshairs.
Chapter Nineteen
“I can’t believe we missed this. That I missed this. Damn, I’m getting soft.”
Devlyn sat beside Crow as Ellis continued muttering about her failings, occasionally cursing the computer, not that Dev had any idea what the other woman was talking about. All she saw were images on the screen. Nothing to suggest there was more information stored on the disks.
Ryker leaned back in his chair, absently thumbing her outer thigh as if he wasn’t really aware he was doing it but needed some form of contact. “Slader couldn’t unravel it, and he worked with McCormick. Besides, none of us thought he’d lead us to actual intel. You didn’t have any reason to look beyond the surface.”
Ellis merely glared back at him. “It’s my job to look beyond the surface. Always.”
Colt shuffled over beside them, giving Ryker’s knee a nudge. “Let it go, bro. There’s no consoling her when she gets like this. Just…duck when things start flying.”
Ellis chuckled, tilting her head against Colt’s arm when he moved in behind her. Started massaging her shoulders.
The room drifted into silence, a huge contrast to when they’d first returned. If Devlyn had thought her boss could yell, it didn’t compare to Coen Brady. Apparently Gibson’s involvement at the facility hadn’t been sanctioned by his buddy, and Coen had not been impressed that the Brit had left. Had actually engaged tangoes. And Devlyn had to admit, the doc was highly intimidating when he wanted to be. Had gone toe-to-toe with Gibson without backing down. Without giving an inch. Reminding Gibson that he’d spent the past couple of days nursing Gib’s sorry ass back to life. That he’d given him transfusions and meds and stitches. That Gib was supposed to be recovering, not traipsing around Seattle confronting rogue CIA agents. And, after all she’d witnessed Gibson do—how he eliminated threats without breaking a sweat—she’d been more than impressed by Coen’s sheer presence.
Great, even Ryker’s doctor friend was Spec Op intense at heart. Had the same iron core. She just hoped she wouldn’t need the other man’s help because she wasn’t sure which would be worse. Getting wounded or having Brady treat her.
Though, he obviously wasn’t all show because he’d somehow pulled Phoenix back from the brink. Brady had murmured something about the other clinic, and the equipment, but Ice had said the man was being modest. That he’d headed the surgery. Had revived Phoenix multiple times when he’d coded both before and during the operation. Which had only served to fuel Brady’s anger toward Gibson more. That his buddy had snuck out while he’d been busy saving a life—a fellow soldier. The one moment when he’d let his guard down and hadn’t actively been watching Gib’s ass.
Coen’s partner—a conservation office named Finley McKay—was the only one who’d been able to calm the man down. Though, in retrospect, she hadn’t really calmed him, just redirected his energy. In fact, they’d been fairly intense with each other, though, it had morphed into more good-natured teasing than the death vibe he’d been sending Gibson. The daggers he’d been shooting out of his eyes.
Gibson had smiled through all of it, finally plopping down on a sofa as if they’d been talking about sports the entire time. But Devlyn hadn’t missed the shadows beneath his eyes. The tightness in his smile. He was hurting. Dungeon had wandered over, shoved a drink in his hand then stood there, arms crossed, a firm scowl in place, until Gibson had downed half of it. Even then, Dungeon hadn’t let up. He’d merely claimed the cushion beside Gib and continued to stare the man down until he’d finished it off. Had a few bites of a sandwich Dungeon offered him.
All of which made her feel as if she was standing in the center of a tornado just waiting to either get swept up or taken out by debris. Until Ryker gave her hand a squeeze. Smiled. And she suddenly didn’t care how pissy his buddies were. If the tension in the room was making it hard to breathe. All she needed was him. His gaze focused on her. His body pressed against hers.
A huff, then Ellis’ chair squeaking. One foot tapping the floor as she turned. Cheeks flushed. Eyes narrowed.
Ryker straightened, rolling his shoulders as if needing to loosen his muscles before talking. “Problem, Ellis?”
Another huff followed by her fingers carding through her hair. “I know there’s something beneath the images on these disks. But trying to find the right algorithm to fill in the missing coding sequence enough to get this image to fall away and reveal the real data is proving to be more than frustrating. It’s not CIA encrypted. Not DoJ encrypted, and no, don’t ask how I know about the Department of Justice’s security coding. I even tried some old military programs, but it’s not giving me the results I want.”
“So, we’re out of luck?”
“It’s not that I can’t hack it. I’m just not sure if I can make your deadline.” She glanced at her watch. “We’re down to thirty-six hours if Slader holds true to his threat. And we all know the bastard will. That he won’t accept excuses about the coding being impossible, and us needing more time. Maybe, if I had a supercomputer to toss more sequences at it—”
“Would you mind if I gave it a try?” Becca smiled at the gathering of people who turned toward her. “I have some experience with digital steganography. The Department of Defense has been encrypting certain information with them for a while, and I’ve worked on a few projects for the DoD as part of a joint operation group with the NSA. Part of the reason I have that back door I mentioned earlier.”
Ellis waved at the computer. “Please, before I toss this damn thing across the room at Crow.”
Ryker chuckled. “Guess Colt wasn’t kidding.” He held up his hands when Ellis chucked some wadded paper at this head. “At least, you didn’t use any of your ninja moves on me.”
“Just give me an excuse.”
“Thanks, but I’ve heard the stories.” He winked at Devlyn. “And I already have one lady determined to stab me in the heart.”
Devlyn grinned. “Only if I decide not to shoot you, first.”
“I’m sure another opportunity will present itself before this mission is over.”
“I swear, if you two don’t stop making goo-goo eyes at each other, I’ll cap you both.” Becca glared at Ryker across her shoulder. “And I know enough about crime scenes to make sure no one ever fingers me.”
Cannon laughed, stopping next to Becca. “You lied, Devlyn. Seems Becca is just as violent as the rest of the ladies here. And she might be even more dangerous because she comes across as so…logical.” He looked over at them. “Though, she has a point. You were making goo-goo eyes.”
Ryker snorted. “Please, compared to you and Jericho, and Colt and Ellis, we’re the poster couple of professionalism.”
Couple. Christ, Ryker had said it. Out loud. Called them a couple without hesitating. Without his voice wavering or the pitch sounding off. What it would have sounded like if he’d realized his mistake too late but hadn’t been able to prevent the word from slipping out. Not that Devlyn hadn’t expected his buddies to notice the change in their relationship. That they weren’t at each other’s throats every second of every day. That the oppressive tension between them had dimmed. Or, maybe it had shifted more into sexual tension, since she couldn’t stop picturing all the ways she wanted to touch Ryker’s body. Taste every inch of skin. Either way, she knew it was obvious. But to hear him say it…
She glanced at Ryker, and her heart stopped. Freaking froze inside her chest because his smile... It was all rosy lips and white teeth. Eyes crinkled, the blue in them shining. Radiant. That’s what he looked like. As if his whole body was encased in neon.
Her heart must have started beating, again, because it was pounding against her ri
bs. Threatening to push right through, making it hard to breathe. To do anything other than stare at him. Drink in all that radiance. And she knew she’d do anything to keep that smile on his face.
Cannon chuckled. “Yeah, poster couple, if you don’t count the lovesick look on your face, right now, Crow.”
Devlyn nudged him, loving the way he instantly changed. Snapped his head toward her and focused completely on her as if Cannon had disappeared. Just dropped through the floor. “He’s just sore because you called him out. And he knows you’re right. I walked in on him and Jericho snogging in the hallway.”
“Snogging?”
She laughed. “Ask Gibson.”
“Thanks, but he has a hard time communicating without throwing knives around.”
Gibson grunted. “Christ, toss a few blades close to your head just once, and I’m labeled for life.”
“Pretty sure I’m not the only one who feels that way, chum.”
Gibson grinned. “I’ll remember that the next time your arse is in a jam, mate.”
Ryker laughed. “Fine. Sorry. And my arse hasn’t gotten out of this jam, yet, so… Don’t pack those blades away for a while.”
“I’ll consider it.”
“Then, you’d best consider it quickly because I think I’ve got the correct algorithm.” Becca tapped some more keys. “It looks like it’s an enhanced combination of some NSA sequences and DoD ones. Very convoluted and definitely outsourced to an extremely talented hacker outside the government. No way someone with this talent works for ‘the man’. I’m getting the edges to fray a bit but it’s probably gonna take me several hours to have anything useful. But I can start on the other disks. Hopefully have them all around the same time.”
Ryker yawned as he glanced at his watch. “That’ll leave us just over twenty-four to figure out how we’re going to get Anna Carmichael back without giving Slader what he wants. Though, if there is someone targeting everyone who’s worked for McCormick, maybe having Slader take him out isn’t a bad compromise.”
“So, you’re just going to toss justice out the window? Go straight to vigilantism?”
“No. But we might not have many options that don’t involve someone dying.”
“Let’s see what Becca unearths before we waste time arguing semantics.” Cannon took the cup of coffee Jericho offered him, shouldering up beside her as he leaned against the counter. “In the meantime, Dungeon, do me a favor and see that Gibson’s ass is either planted on that couch or is resting in one of the beds. Sit in a chair at the door if needed, but don’t let him leave the room unless Brady personally escorts him out.”
Dungeon arched a brow, glancing at Gibson then back to Cannon. “Did anyone pat the man down when he came inside? Or should I get some restraints so he doesn’t knife me in the throat?”
Gibson slapped him in the shoulder. “Guess I know why they call you Dungeon, yeah?”
“Afraid you’ll be disappointed when you discover the real reason.”
“Thinking you wouldn’t disappoint.”
Dungeon stared at the other man then exhaled. “So, that’s a yes to having knives?”
“Don’t worry, mate. I wouldn’t damage anything…” Gib did a slow sweep of Dungeon’s body. “Important.”
“You won’t damage anything, period, or I’ll call Brady.” Cannon smiled. “And we both know he’s itching to sedate you.”
“Killjoy.”
“Get some rest. And Gib… Thanks. While I don’t condone you going against Brady’s orders, I appreciate the save. Looks like we owe you. Again.”
Gibson pushed to his feet, swaying against Dungeon for a moment before drawing himself up. “Just don’t get pissy when I cash in.”
He took a step, nearly toppled against Dungeon, again, before the other man wrapped an arm around his back. Dared him to pull away before leading him down the hallway. Disappearing into one of the rooms.
Cannon shook his head. “Bastard doesn’t know when to quit. I see why Brady handcuffed him to the bed.” He looked at Devlyn and Ryker. “I also know you’d both be dead a few times over if he wasn’t a stubborn SOB. You two go get some rest, too.”
He held up his hand when Devlyn went to object. Hadn’t they been sponging off Ryker’s team long enough?
“I get it. Your case. Your risk. But… Even I can tell your brains are still shaking from the flash bang. From nearly dying—again. Go. I’m sure Becca will be happy to interrupt you once she’s uncovered whatever’s hiding beneath those photos.”
Devlyn stood. “We can help. We can—”
“Be the reason one of you gets shot in the ass. Being part of our team means letting us shoulder some of the weight. And, since you and Crow will be the ones confronting Slader, you shouldn’t still be seeing double or hearing ringing in your ears.”
“Cannon’s right.” Ryker cupped her elbow. Waited until she was looking into his eyes. “It’s midnight. And I’m not too proud to say my head still hurts. We’ll be liabilities if we show up tripping over our own feet.” He shifted closer. Smiled one of his stunning smiles. “Besides, I can’t try to seduce you out here.”
God, he was serious. It had sounded like fun teasing in front of his buddies—probably something they’d expect—but the heat in his eyes. The slight hint of color on his cheeks, not to mention the increasing bulge in his jeans. She couldn’t see it—couldn’t glance down without giving it away—but the pressure of it against her hip…
It took all her concentration not to inhale, or, maybe exhale. But not normally. It would come out all breathless. Sounding as desperate as he’d made her feel with nothing more than a tilt of his lips. A suggestion of his body against hers. Nothing between them but the starlight shining through the windows.
Devlyn snorted. Did her best to push down the rioting in her stomach. Ensure it didn’t well up and color her voice. Her tone. “Didn’t you point out just moments earlier that I wanted to stab you in the heart?”
“Then, here’s your chance.”
“Whatever you plan on doing, get a room.” Cannon waved toward the hallway. “Before Becca steals my gun and shoots you both.”
Ryker said something flippant, but all Devlyn heard was room. Them, together in a room. And based on what had happened last time… What she’d been picturing between being shot at. Subdued with the flash bang. Things were about to get insanely hot.
She blinked to find herself at their door. Ryker’s palm in the small of her back. All the way down the hallway, and she’d been lost in thought. In the hue of his skin. The timbre of his voice. The knowledge that they were only a few moments away from him pinning her against the door. Pounding into her for the next hour.
A click of the tumbler turning, and the door swung open. Revealed a wedge of the room in the rising moonlight. The spill over from the living room. She smiled at the rumpled sheets on the bed. A reminder of what they’d shared before the mission had interrupted them. Had slid everything sideways.
A grunt, then she was spinning. Her back hitting the wall beside the door as it clicked shut. Blocking out the rest of the world. She looked up. Smiled at the flare of his nostrils. The way his cheekbones stood out across taut skin. The flush on his cheeks.
Devlyn slipped her arms around his shoulders, then scratched a line along his neck before tiptoeing up. Pressing her forehead to his. “I thought you were going to insist we work the damn case all night.”
“And miss an opportunity to make love to you? Were you listening before when I said I was re-examining my priorities? Or were you faking it?”
“I’ve faked a lot of things…but never with you.”
He leaned in closer. Pushed her a bit harder against the wall. “Let’s put that theory to the test before your friend, Becca, busts in here with Cannon’s Sig. Call me crazy, sweetheart, but I don’t think she likes me.”
“I don’t think she’s ever fired a gun, and I’m glad she doesn’t like you. Leaves more for me to like.”
“I’m
sure she’s pretty. I just can’t seem to process it because I get lost in you.” He brushed his mouth over hers. “You’re a hard benchmark to beat.”
“Were you always this charming?”
“God, no. But once I commit to a mission…”
“So, you’re saying I’m your mission, now?”
“You’ve been my mission since the day I met you. I was just too damn stupid to realize it before. But I don’t make the same mistake twice, which means… It’s time for you to see those stars, again.”
Chapter Twenty
Christ, she was beautiful.
Beautiful, and sexy, and, damn it, his. He hadn’t missed the way she’d stared up at him on the couch. When Cannon had claimed Crow was the one with the lovesick expression. And, if he’d looked anything like Devlyn had—glowing skin with huge eyes that had gleamed in the lamplight—he didn’t doubt Cannon’s claim. It also meant Devlyn had felt just as emotional as he had. Just as invested.
Devlyn smiled, gaze softening. “Ryker…”
And, just like that, he knew he was going to spend the rest of his life with her. Married or not. Didn’t matter. Wouldn’t change how he felt. How committed he was. Though, he had to admit. Thinking about getting hitched didn’t scare him the way he thought it would. Or should. In fact, it settled the jumpy feeling in his gut. Quieted his demons.
“Devlyn…”
Her eyes fluttered as if hearing her name had affected her before her smile widened and she relaxed against the door.
“God, I love it when you surrender.” He placed a finger over her lips. “I meant that in a good way. So, just once, smile and accept it.”
She laughed as he claimed her mouth. Slipped his tongue inside. Drowned in the warm, sweet taste of her. The hint of coffee mixed in. The flavor he craved like a damn junkie. And when she moaned…
He lost it.
Sank his fingers into her hair, tilted her head back and conquered. No slow build up. No coaxing her mouth open, again, with his, just his lips crushing against hers. Her body molded into his. Though, if she was unhappy with his loss of control, she didn’t show it. In fact, she seemed to revel in it. Managed to use his hold on her to wrap her legs around his waist. Rub her cleft along his dick.
