Before she could see if anyone noticed the door, her captor threw her to the ground and pinned her with his knees. Her gun spun away on the floor, kicked farther by the panicked crowd. There was another gun, though—this one pointed right at her head.
…
It was like Quantico all over again. All the training with Marron…none of it mattered. Cal was right back in a world of madness and violence and blood.
The minute Cal had a gun in his hand, everything grayed out except his targets. He’d been okay when it was just the baton, but he couldn’t take on this many people hand to hand…and the Sig Sauer had been lying right there. It slid into his grip like it was made to fit there. Safety off. Fire. Fire again. And again.
His body moved, seemingly separate from his mind, the baton merely an extension of his other arm. Shoot with the right, swing with the left. Kick those who come too close.
Avoid the gray. The gray is civilians.
But there. A blaze of red near the front, a wolf moved amidst the sheep. Takamaki.
Someone grabbed Cal’s shoulder and he spun, the Sig leveled, his finger already tightening on the trigger when he recognized Trevor’s face in the gray. The others were here.
A tiny thread of calm settled over him, but still he wanted to attack. To destroy his targets. To make the rage that pounded in his brain and blood dissipate.
Trevor tilted his head toward a cloud drifting through the room. “You need a mask, dumbass.”
Gas. And Takamaki in the middle of it. Cal snarled and jerked away, blood-rage blinding him to everything except his target. Ducking, he snatched a mask from one of the fallen and turned, ready to put it on and dive into the mob after the cause of all this.
Then a shaky voice reached him through the din. “Please. Please don’t.”
He froze with the mask halfway to his face. The voice shattered his vision for a moment—faint colors leeching back into his world. Nothing had ever broken through before, not like this.
He’d been yanked from field training in the academy because of his rage issues, because something in his mind snapped and turned him into a killer when violence started. In all his work with Marron, the best they’d managed was to give him more conscious thought in labeling targets. When he fought, though, it was still all targets and gray sheep in his brain.
Until now. Until her.
He twisted toward Pen’s voice. Behind where the TRAIT team had come in, behind the fighting, a lone guard had her pinned to the floor.
She wasn’t gray. Unlike everyone else in the room, he saw her clearly—the way she fought even as she pleaded with the man.
A man who blazed blood red.
Pen had gotten the door open. Just like in-game, she had his back. He sure as hell wasn’t going to let these cretins kill her. Cal raised the Sig and squeezed the trigger. It clicked on an empty chamber. He tossed it aside; it didn’t matter. Nothing mattered but his girl. And his target.
With a roar, he raced forward, leaping at the guard. Together, the men flew off Penelope, their bodies skidding across the carpet. When the target tried to swing his gun toward Cal, he leapt up and kicked it away. This wouldn’t end with a bullet—not if he had anything to say about it. The man had attacked Pen, which was inexcusable. As the guard moved toward him, ducking to pull a blade from his boot, Cal lunged. He tore the man’s gas mask away and rolled to grab the baton he’d dropped when he hit the ground.
Snapping to his feet, he spun to avoid the blade, but it still sliced his forearm before he was able to deflect it. The target got one, but only one. Cal brought the baton down hard on the other man’s wrist, and the knife went skittering. On the upstroke, he caught the man across the nose, breaking it at the bridge. The stink of fear poured off the guard as he dove for the blade again, but Cal tackled him, pinning the target to the ground just as the bastard had done to Pen.
The guard raised an arm for protection, but Cal cracked the baton down on it, breaking the bone with a snap. He dropped the weapon and grabbed the man, sandwiching the target’s head between his hands. “No one hurts her,” Cal snarled. Then, without any further hesitation, he slammed the target’s head against the floor with all the fury and strength he had left. The man didn’t move again, his eyes staring blankly at the ceiling…and the haze moving toward them.
With the gas already attacking and making his movements jerky, Cal shoved away from the guard and staggered back to Pen. When he knelt by her side, he rolled the mask toward them and shoved it at her face. “Put this on.”
She sucked in a couple breaths and held it toward him. “You need it.”
He didn’t take the mask. He just stared at her. In a world of gray and red, she shone like a beacon of light. “You are so beautiful.”
“No. No, no, no…” Her brows pulled together and she strapped the mask on his face as worry shone in her eyes. “I need my Cal back. I’m not beautiful. I’m cute, remember?”
While he stared at her—at his amazing Penelope—the world started to regain its color. Her presence, her touch, chased the battle-rage away. His lips twitched into a smile and he passed the mask back to her. “Silly woman, don’t you get it yet? Cute is sexy and beautiful rolled up into one amazing package.”
Her breath hitched and she clung to him for a second before passing the mask back. Even though the fans had finally whirred to life, it would take a while for the gas to clear. “I can make it out of here now. Don’t you need to go be a hero? Kill the bad guy or something?”
Cal glanced toward the front of the room where Trevor and a few others had closed ranks around Takamaki. It was all over except the paperwork. Shoving the mask back toward Pen, Cal swept her into his arms and carried her to the doors she’d broken open earlier. “Other people can get that piece of shit. And I kind of hoped I already was a hero.”
Outside, in the convention proper, everyone stared at them as if unsure whether they should rush forward to see what the commotion was all about or run away. He didn’t care about them, any of them. The only person who mattered was the one whose face was covered by a heavy black gas mask, the one who reached up to trace his jaw with her fingers.
She pulled the mask away, letting it dangle in her fingers and bang against his back. “Pretty sure you’ve always been a hero. I don’t know if there’s ever been a time when you haven’t rushed in and saved me.”
There was a sad note to her voice, as if she thought somehow she’d been a damsel-in-distress in all of this. He tipped her chin up until she met his gaze. “The only reason I’ve ever had to save you is because you aren’t afraid of taking on whatever life throws at you. It doesn’t matter if it’s twice as big as you or you’re out-numbered or out-gunned. I saw it every time we fought together in the game, and that door in there never would have gotten opened if you hadn’t done it. I can’t explain things to you, not here—” He tilted his head toward the crowd of people. “But please trust me when I say that, this time, you saved me.”
“But sometime—soon—you’ll tell me everything?” She started biting at her fingernail, not stopping until he set her on her feet and pulled her hand away.
“Before tonight is over, there won’t be any more secrets. You already know enough that I think I can promise that.” And even if he couldn’t, what happened to him in the screening room meant he might be fired anyway. He didn’t think he’d killed anyone he shouldn’t, but the brush with Trevor had been too close to be sure of anything. If it had taken even a fraction of a second longer for him to recognize his fellow agent, it would have been too late. The gun would have bucked in his hand and Trevor would have been dead.
He wasn’t, but it had been a near thing—maybe too near a thing as far as Marron and the government would be concerned.
It didn’t matter. He could do something else if he had to. Once upon a time, a career as a spy was all he’d ever wanted. Now the only thing he wanted was the woman wrapped in his arms.
Pen rose on her toes and brushed a kiss ov
er his lips, sending the familiar and wonderful sparks of electricity through him. “It doesn’t have to all be tonight. I’m kind of hoping you might stick around longer than that.”
He grabbed the gas mask and chucked it back toward the door. He’d text Josh and let him know they were in his hotel room, ready for debriefing. Considering the possibility he was already out of a job, he had no intention of sticking around for clean-up. He’d either be the hero for the work he did inside or he wouldn’t—that was for someone else to decide. But he damn well wasn’t going to play the role of good soldier right now, not on what was supposed to be his vacation. Not when he could be spending time with Pen. He swept her into his embrace again, thrilling at the way her body pressed close and her arms wound around his neck. “I’m not going anywhere. I’m here for as long as you’ll keep me.”
Chapter Ten
Blaze of Glory
A spy. Even hours after being “debriefed,” Pen was still reeling. He hadn’t even really lied. Coding…code-breaking… She could forgive him for that. Especially considering without him, she’d have been dead. Because he’d been in the screening room—and she’d gotten the door open—his coworkers managed to vent the gas before it killed anyone.
His boss, some guy named Marron, hadn’t been really happy about talking to her at first. Then Cal had said something about her “breaking through” his battle haze, and Marron had shut up and done a one-eighty on the attitude. Like somehow that made her part of the team. Granted it was in a “You have to sign these papers to acknowledge if you talk about TRAIT in any non-authorized fashion, you might be tried for treason” kind of way. Who the hell was she going to tell? Worf? No one else would believe her anyway. Cal still hadn’t explained exactly what it all meant, but the night had been filled with more than enough revelations. The battle haze bit could wait.
As a bonus, she was more or less an assistant spy now. Or a spy recruiter. Either way, it was kind of cool.
She couldn’t believe the entire ordeal; from the moment Cal stood up until they stood outside the screening room had only taken ten or fifteen minutes. Even in that short span, the gas had affected dozens of people badly enough that they were in the hospital. Quarantined, since the government had to analyze the compounds and figure out exactly what kind of damage it would do long-term. Those not severely affected—including her and Cal—were just on watch. Monthly checkups…pretty much until the end of time.
Somehow TRAIT had managed some sort of cover-up already. Anyone who was in the screening room had to be debriefed. Those outside were treated to a bullshit announcement about a tech malfunction during a planned skit before the screening. Apparently there was nothing to worry about. She guessed it was true enough, since the arms dealer, his buyer, and a bunch of their lackeys were in custody…and the rest were dead.
Which left her free and clear to snuggle closer to Cal. With her head on his chest, she splayed her hand over his abdomen, the crazy urge to tickle him awake making her smile.
“Don’t do it, Darling,” his voice rumbled from deep within his chest, and Pen shivered, reveling in the sound.
“Wouldn’t think of it.” She twisted in the sheets, propping herself up to lean over him. “I thought you were asleep.”
“I was.” He winked at her before tracing a circle around her nipple with his tongue until she moaned. “Spy. Remember? I heard you thinking evil thoughts.”
She mock-gasped and clutched the sheets to her chest. “Did you put something in my brain during debriefing? How could you possibly know that?”
He just smirked as his fingers toyed in her hair and wrapped around the back of her neck, pulling her toward him.
“Oh no you don’t,” she said, putting up the tiniest bit of resistance. “I don’t plan on letting you interrogate me. You’ll find out all my nefarious plans, and then what will I do?”
“Mmmmm…” His tongue traced a path from her earlobe to the pulse drumming in her neck. “Even if my torture method involves tying you to the bed and using my wicked tongue on you until you confess everything?”
Heat flooded her, pooling between her legs at the image. “Would there be screaming?”
“I can probably guarantee that.”
This time when he tugged her down, she sagged against him and snuggled close, breathing in the scent of him. A spicy hint of musk toyed with her senses and made her want to do whatever he asked. “What happens if your brain scanner is faulty, and I don’t actually have anything to confess?”
He nuzzled her neck, biting her gently as he reached toward the nightstand and the condoms sitting on top of it. “Then I’ll just torture you until you beg me to finish you off.”
“Mmmmm and then what?” She allowed her fingers to slide under the sheet, inching lower and lower on his stomach, ready to take over the work he was doing on himself beneath the sheets. Letting him tie her up would have to wait for another day. She had no intention of giving him that long to “finish her off” tonight.
“Then”—Cal flipped her over on her back, grabbing her hands and pinning them overhead—“I knock you unconscious so we can be well-rested enough to kick some ass in the Heroes contest tomorrow.”
She stopped squirming in his grip to gape up at the grin spreading across his face. “But…how? All the slots were filled, and neither of us had a chance to snag one of the last minute spots. Or I know I didn’t, and I’m assuming you were too busy saving the world.”
Dipping his head, he kissed her, his lips searing a path from her mouth, down her neck, until finally sucking on one of her nipples. “A couple guys who were very thankful for being alive went home to their wives and kids. Gave us their spots.” He teased her other breast with his tongue. “And I may have arranged it so if we both win our first couple rounds we’ll go head to head with that asshole you used to play with.”
“Huh?” She could barely focus on his words with the way he kept distracting her with his glorious mouth. Then it hit her. “Uh…there was a communication glitch. He wasn’t who I thought he was.”
Cal raised his head. “And who was that?” Then he proceeded to blaze a trail down her stomach with his lips.
Pen’s eyes rolled back in her head as his tongue flicked at her clit. She so very much didn’t want to tell him, but the whole reason she’d been in the mess with Kent was because she’d hidden from Cal in the first place. “He said he was you.”
And just as he’d promised, she wanted to scream—mainly because he stopped his ministrations to frown at her.
“You thought he was me?”
To keep from crying out in frustration, she bit her lip for a moment, but he wasn’t taking silence as an answer now. Damn it. “Considering Maksamar is my ex and what an ass he is, it wasn’t such a huge leap for me to believe Lohonas could be a jerk, too.”
“You dated Maks? No wonder you didn’t want to meet me.” He laughed and kissed the inside of her thighs. “In that case, I’ll forgive you for believing the lech was me…on one condition.”
Her eyelids fluttered as he kissed her again, nipping at her skin. “Does it involve cliff-diving?”
“Only as initiation. Of course, you can choose death by dragon fire, too. That one’s popular. Blaze of glory and all.”
She propped up on her elbows when he stopped kissing her. “Huh?”
His mouth curled into a devilish grin. “No woman of mine is staying in a guild with her ex.” He flicked her clit again, and she shuddered. “Especially not when he treats you like crap.”
Pen groaned as she lay back on the bed. “So you’re planning to find me a new guild?” She’d happily go up in a fiery inferno if Cal was by her side. It wasn’t like it would be the first time.
“Depends. How many times can you come tonight?”
“I…don’t know.” What the hell did that have to do with anything?
“Well, since the motto of the Fourth Wall is ‘Ale and Whores,’ I need to be sure you fit in. I figure we can do the liquor consumptio
n portion of the test later, but we might as well start on the sex part now. There’s a five-orgasm minimum.” He waggled his eyebrows at her.
The Wallers? She knew from raids that they seemed like a good group, and with Lohonas…er, Cal, she didn’t think she could go wrong there. The initiation thing kind of bothered her, though. “Does everyone have to do these tests?”
“Darling,” Cal said, his face going serious for a moment as he crawled up her body, “you don’t want to know what those of us not dating in-guild have to do.”
She could only imagine, and her imagination was having way too much fun with the dirty pictures it created. “You’re kidding, right?”
“I don’t know. We’re a pretty wild group. We have a mean beer-cozy knitting circle on Thursdays. As for the sex thing…this guild officer wants to have you over and over and over again. I need to make sure you’re up for the task, so I figure it’s wise to know what you can handle.” And just like that, he found her center and pushed inside.
Pen gasped and rocked her hips toward his. A lot. She could handle a lot. Soon, she was lost in the rhythm of making love to the most incredible man in the world. Her geek. Her paladin. Her spy. Her lover.
And she realized she didn’t care about getting the best of Kent or winning some stupid contest. Here, with Cal, she knew she’d already won.
…
Ten times. Thank God, he’d managed to bring her to more than half those orgasms with his hands and mouth. She’d finally begged for sleep just when he was ready to go again. The contentment in her smile and the passion burning behind the exhaustion in her eyes had been enough to cave. She’d already promised this was only the beginning for them.
Pen was the most amazing woman he’d ever met, and he got to share his life with her. All of it. No hiding his job or his geeky nature or…anything. They were a team beyond the confines of the game. She’d given him a reality he’d only dreamed of. And when he woke to her stretching in the morning, he wound his arms around her tighter, not wanting to ever let go.
Gaming for Keeps (Entangled Ever After) Page 9
