Choosing Brodie and the Kindred over Grant and CI had been a drastic decision for her. But as she sat sipping her coffee while waiting for Kahlil, she knew she’d made the right choice.
“Oh, I love you, beau,” she murmured, tucking her head down to hide her smiling lips and silently wishing that he was in her ear to support and torment her.
Purdy’s had been a stable, recurring location in her life since she started at CI almost six years ago. It had been a place for her to reflect and be grateful for the freedom from the oppression of her father’s house and his ideas about what her future would hold.
She had become the strong, independent woman that she had striven to be, and with Brodie and the Kindred, she was fulfilling her childhood dreams of adventure and doing something worthwhile. No matter what Cuckoo said or tried to insinuate, Zara wouldn’t give up her man, or the life they had together, without a fight.
Her coffee was almost finished by the time Kahlil came into Purdy’s. It didn’t take him long to pick her out in the quiet space with its smattering of customers. He came straight over without ordering at the bar and sat down opposite her.
She waited. This meeting was happening at his request; it was his responsibility to explain why he’d called it. Aloof and brooding worked for Brodie, so she tried to mimic his success by waiting for Kahlil to speak first.
“I have had a busy morning and I don’t have time for games,” Kahlil said, but he seemed more impatient than stressed, suggesting his meeting this morning didn’t upset him too much.
But his mussed hair and the bruise on his chin spoke to the pressure he was under. “What happened to your face?” she asked, indicating the bruise. She might have seen the blow that caused it through Maverick’s sight, but she wouldn’t reveal that to him. Asking outright put him on the spot, and she waited to see what lie he would come up with.
“A disagreement with an old colleague.”
His choice not to lie was a surprising one. The explanation was enough to allow her to move on without rousing suspicion. “Are you ready to tell me who you’re working for?”
Brodie and Tuck might already have that piece of information if they’d witnessed the morning meeting. But Kahlil had been honest with her once, so she took the chance that he might do it again.
“Keeping my employer’s identity secret is imperative to the success of our mission.”
“What is your mission?” Any details she had about Kahlil were related to his previous employer and even those were vague.
“I plan to protect all the puppies and kittens of the world and open my own unicorn sanctuary,” he said, not in a show of dry wit, but in continuance of his impatience.
She wasn’t impressed. “You’re only going to get what you want if I sign off on it,” she said, pushing her cup aside.
Kahlil might like to think he was in charge here, and it was obvious that he didn’t like dealing with her, maybe because she was subordinate to him in the grand scheme of things, maybe because she was a woman, or maybe just because he didn’t like her personality, which she could identify with. Kahlil was hardly a treat himself. It was something about the men in this game, they were so caught up in their own importance that civility and charm were often the first personality traits sacrificed.
“Does that mean you’re open to a deal?” he asked.
Coming in not as an adversary, but as a client, would have been a better strategy for Kahlil. Her own curiosity grew, and she became eager to get to Brodie to find out what Kahlil had endured that morning. “Yes. We’ll deal. Give us the story first, money on delivery of Game Time.”
“Raven comes to the drop,” Kahlil said. “I want him there with you when we make the exchange.”
Most people wouldn’t want their seller to have superior numbers in this situation. “Why would you want him there?”
“I know what his primary skill is.”
That made sense. Kahlil knew that Raven was a sniper, so unless he was right in front of the buyer, Kahlil would have to assume he was lying on the top of a building somewhere ready to take the shot.
“Tell me the story now,” she said. It would be recorded on her watch, meaning Brodie could hear it for himself. Getting the details without her love present would spare him the pain of having an audience when the truth came out.
But Kahlil shook his head. “I will be in touch with a time and a place. I will bring the money. You will bring the device.”
“I will have to consult with my colleagues before we commit to where and when.”
“Good. But make it soon. I want to get out of this city. I have plans of my own that don’t include hanging around here.”
Could his boss be local or was he just desperate to get on with outdoing his old boss? It didn’t matter to her either way. The Kindred hadn’t agreed to sell the device to Kahlil, but Zara was determined that Brodie would know the truth about his parents. If there was retribution to be had, she would make sure the Kindred were dedicated to getting it for him.
He’d lost his parents, Art, and Grant. No story could bring any of them back. But finding out the reason for their deaths would bring closure. Losing her own mother had been devastating to her teenage self, but at least she knew how it had happened. Brodie and Grant had both suggested to her that the blast, which killed their parents, was no accident, and they had the chance to confirm the veracity of that and get some details.
“We’ll be in touch with the details,” she said, and although he was perturbed, she couldn’t feel intimidated by his arrogance, not after what she’d seen him doing this morning.
“I brought someone with me, my partner. He insists on seeing you. He thinks his presence will reassure you.”
She didn’t like to be blindsided, and when a shadow moved across the table, she glanced up. Her instinctive gasp revealed more of her surprise than she wanted it to. Coming to Purdy’s during the day was supposed to be safe, now she wondered if she’d been wrong.
Shoving to her feet, he was blocking the path she’d need to travel if she wanted to reach the door. He’d spared their lives once, she couldn’t bank that he’d do it again. “Benedict Leatt.”
“What happened to Ben?” he asked, having the gall to smile. “I’m not your enemy, Zara. Sit down and let me explain.”
Trying her best to don her Kindred mask, she sank back down onto her chair and watched Ben sit in the perpendicular place. “You were working for Kahlil all along?”
“He wanted Game Time,” Ben said, not answering the question. “I didn’t know what it was, but he was willing to pay a serious amount of money to find out where Sutcliffe was keeping it.”
From that explanation, she guessed he’d hooked up with Sutcliffe as he’d said he did. Kahlil would have seen Leatt’s strategic position and turned to the physical therapist. “Is that why you stayed at the compound after murdering Grant because by then you were on Kahlil’s payroll?”
“We didn’t know where Game Time was. We knew that the Kindred had emptied the bunker, Grant told us that. But we wanted to check the place out, just in case he’d hidden it anywhere on the property.”
They knew that the bunker was empty, they didn’t know what had been in it for the Kindred to take or what Sutcliffe had kept closer to home. “You didn’t find it. We have it.”
“We know,” Ben said. “And we knew that was a possibility, which was why you and yours weren’t eliminated like your former boss. He was of no use to us. We realized after he tried to take power that he wouldn’t be worth dealing with. We couldn’t ask him to rebuild Game Time for us, he proved he had his own agenda.” Ben nodded toward the silent Kahlil. “My friend here said he had leverage with your people.”
All along, Ben had been playing her. He’d known about the Kindred. About who killed Tim and why. He was good. “So you held the story as backup?”
Ben nodded. “When we didn’t get Game Time from Sutcliffe. We scratched an alliance with Grant McCormack off the list. That left us
with you. And here we are.”
“And here we are,” she repeated. “How did you two get involved with each other?”
“Sutcliffe came to me as a legitimate patient. My friend here approached me, he didn’t give me all the details at first, just guided me in how to talk to Sutcliffe. I soon figured it out. That was long before I even met you, Zar. I’m sorry I couldn’t tell you.”
“Why would you—”
“Money,” Kahlil said. “I paid him well for his loyalty.”
Money gave access, forged an alliance, and ultimately got Grant killed. Kahlil had been fired by his previous employer then begun a crusade to usurp what Sutcliffe had won. Except no one knew where Game Time was and Sutcliffe was a paranoid bastard, though with good reason it seemed.
“Sutcliffe lost his arsenal,” Zara said. “Grant tried to take over, and you took him out before he could get in your way.”
“I’d think you’d be grateful for that,” Ben said. “He was going to kill your friend.”
Brodie was more than her friend, but she didn’t need to remind them of that. “You spared us because you wanted to use us. If you couldn’t find Game Time on the compound, you planned to get it from us. How could you kill a man for that?”
“I care about you, Zara. You were upset, I thought I was doing you a favor,” Ben said. “Your boss man would’ve been a much bigger problem for all of us if we’d let him take control out there.”
“That’s why you killed him? He’d served his purpose and was going to get in your way?” she asked. “I thought you were a good guy. I thought—”
“Everybody thinks they’re the good guy,” Ben said. “My motivation is money, power. Kahlil’s is revenge. What’s yours?”
Her motivation was to do what was right. Game Time was under Kindred control, so if it got out there, it would be on them. Zara didn’t like these two men being affiliated, between them they had quite a conniving mind. Brodie had his answer on who Leatt was working with, Rigor could rest easy because Sutcliffe’s compound was old news to every other party.
“We’ll let you talk to your people. We’ll come to a mutual agreement about the terms of the exchange,” he said, and she was still thinking about how Brodie and the others would react to this when Ben took her hand, forcing her to look at him. “I hope this will make you feel better, knowing that I’m involved. I would never hurt you. You and your friends aren’t our target. The time we shared, Zara, that was real to me.”
Real that they got along or real that he developed feelings for her? Brodie had already said that Ben might have. If this was Grant or another man who might be declaring their intentions towards her, she’d put them in their place without blinking. But this man was a potential client and one she might have to work, depending on Brodie’s orders.
“I was hurt and confused,” she said. “When I thought you were with Grant and were going to hurt us.”
Ben smiled. “You don’t have to worry about that.” He took her hand to his lips. “No dog will come near you.”
That would be reassuring, if she didn’t suspect that she was being played all over again. This game was complicated, and she needed more practice. Kahlil got up first but was closely followed by Ben. The men made stilted goodbyes and left her alone with her coffee. She hung around in Purdy’s for an extra few minutes just to make sure Ben and Kahlil were long gone and that Julian was back at work.
She didn’t need any more meetings today. The one conversation she was interested in having had nothing to do with Game Time, which was in itself refreshing.
Ben being back, with Kahlil, was shocking. But at least they didn’t have to worry about Ben sneaking up behind them when they weren’t looking. Brodie would have more answers, and she was eager to find out what he and Tuck had witnessed.
But it was her conversation with Cuckoo that she was determined to address with her love. Kindred business should always take precedence over their personal matters. But Cuckoo wanted Game Time, maybe because Caine had told her about it or just because she wanted to play with the toy that everyone else wanted.
Zara had to know if Brodie knew about Caine’s motivation and how it might change their approach to the guy. She had to get to base, to seek out her love and to give him a truth they’d all missed.
SIXTEEN
She went to the manor security hub before going anywhere else. There she checked her messages and was pleased to see that she had one from Thad, until she read that there was no antidote. A list of questions followed this statement, asking why they needed such a thing and if he should be worried. The Kindred were in the midst of a mission, they should all be worried.
An email from Julian explained that he’d meet with the accountant later in the afternoon and should have answers for her by this evening. Progress, it made her feel good. The last message was from Bess, who apologized for taking Zave away from the mission, stating he had urgent business that had just come up. That guy was a puzzle.
Because she was in the basement anyway, she checked the gym, the shooting range, and their weapons room. Brodie wasn’t in any of them. She checked the kitchen, but he wasn’t there either. Running up the stairs to their bedroom, she was confident that if he wasn’t here, he would be at the hotel staking out Kahlil or maybe still on his tail. If either of these were the case, she would want to get changed and pack some supplies before heading over to spend another night on the stakeout.
Pressing her fingerprint into the circular security panel on their doorknob, she smiled when it flashed to grant her entry. She still got a kick that her print worked on his bedroom door. The first time she’d come up here, she hadn’t dreamed that one day she’d be this ensconced in the life of her mysterious bedroom intruder.
Closing the door, she exhaled all her worries when she saw his familiar form sprawled in the middle of their bed. She wasn’t just established in his life, she was entrenched in his trust too. Being this exposed, alone in bed, asleep, gave her the opportunity to hurt or take advantage of him if she wanted to. But he trusted her enough that he could be this unprotected without any worry she’d hurt him.
This was the same man who kept his jeans on anytime he wasn’t at home, just in case someone attacked while he was vulnerable. After hearing Cuckoo’s story of them being caught in the act by Caine, Zara guessed that was where Brodie’s compulsion to remain semi-dressed if they were having sex off-base began. If he’d been wary before that happened, then having a guy come at him with a knife while he was naked and getting busy would increase his paranoia level to eleven.
Tuck had slept last night and wasn’t around in the manor. He was probably at their stakeout location, or he was the one still tailing Kahlil. This was Brodie’s time to rest because he’d no doubt be on the nightshift again.
She should let Brodie sleep because the more rest he had, the quicker his reflexes would be. So she considered calling Tuck to discuss the developments with him. But cutting Brodie out just because he was unconscious was too reminiscent of how they’d coddled him during his grief period.
Sliding her shoes from her feet, Zara stripped off all of her clothes and crept over to the bed. Picking up the blanket, she slid beneath it. She wasn’t exhausted but if she got a nap and synced her pattern with his, then she could keep him company tonight if they were watching Kahlil again, though whether they were or not would depend on what information Brodie and Tuck had discovered that morning.
Insinuating her flat hand between his chest and the bedcovers, she stroked down Brodie’s solid body from his collarbone to the head of his dick. Since her hand was there anyway, she curled her fingers around his cock and he grumbled. His eyes didn’t open and she wasn’t here to wake him up, she was here to sleep, so she let him go.
Brushing her hand down him again, she stroked his thickening dick and kept on going until it was at full salute. Kissing his pec, she rubbed her cheek on the solid muscle beneath and barely contained her enthusiasm. He was unconscious, and his body was r
eacting to her insistence. It seemed a waste to ignore her effort, so she carefully peeled back the covers and pushed them down to his shins.
He was a magnificent man, all those hours in the gym kept him in shape for anything the job might require. His form was like art. Even marred by the odd scar and his tattoos, she thought he was perfect. Clutching her handiwork, she crawled down the bed and kissed the head of his dick. Opening her lips, she licked and sucked, working his balls in her other hand with a gentle caress. Forcing herself to take him deeper, she hummed and shifted angle to let her nipples graze his thigh as she bobbed her upper body in time with her suck and withdraw.
Blinking her eyes up, she was surprised to see his were open to slits, observing her work. Smiling around her toy, she pushed one hand up his torso to stop on his abdomen. “What are you doing?” he grumbled.
Pulling back enough that his head stayed just between her lips, she held him there with her free hand and swirled her tongue around him. “I would’ve thought that was obvious,” she mumbled with her mouth still full.
“Come here,” he said, opening his arm.
Taking him out of her mouth, she kept him clamped in her fist while she slid her body up on top of his. Working her hand around him, she felt the increased beat of his heart through her ribs until he got his hands between them to fondle her breasts, which separated them a little.
His rough hands were assured in their possession, he squeezed the sensitive flesh, and caressed her nipples with his broad thumbs. In time with her first whimper, he bent a knee, drawing it up between her thighs to her damp core. “You always get distracted when I’m naked,” he said. Snatching a handful of her hair at the back of her skull, he pulled her body away from his and rolled her onto her back.
Cuckoo (Kindred Book 3) Page 19
