The Darkling Hunters: Fox Company Alpha (Fox Company Series Book 1)

by Rhiannon Ayers

  No handshakes. No goodbyes. No indication whatsoever that she cared about them at all. It hurt, but it wasn’t unexpected. She’d made it clear from the beginning that sticking around wasn’t her strong suit.

  Dex did try to look for her after Chicago, but it was like she never existed. No social media presence, no phone number, no address—she was a ghost in almost every sense of the word. After a while, he gave up and tried to content himself with the knowledge that he might get to see her on the next big case.

  Small comfort, that. But it was all he had.

  The last time they’d seen her had been nothing but a brief encounter. Several unexplained shootings led the DEA to send a team down to Tulsa to investigate possible darkling influences. He and Sam had wandered into a road-side diner, intent on refueling before getting down to work, and stumbled on a peculiar sight. Sydney, surrounded by six men, seemed to be holding the place hostage. The men carried AK-47’s, their faces covered by black ski-masks, while Syd stood in the center, a pair of Desert Eagles held in her fists. Stunned, he and Sam had frozen in the doorway, unsure what to make of what they were seeing. Sydney had turned in that instance, spotted them—and winked.

  The next few moments were a blur of confusion as bullets started to fly and terrified people hit the deck. Four of the masked men lay on the ground, gaping holes in their heads, while Sydney exchanged fire with the two remaining robbers. Dex had shot one of them and yelled for Syd to take cover behind them. She’d flashed them a grin, shook her head, and dove out the side door in hot pursuit of the last darkling. By the time Dex and Sam got there, the two had disappeared into the city streets. They’d kept a lookout for her, but found no trace.

  That had been over a year ago. They hadn’t seen her since. Not until tonight, anyway.

  That made six times in seven years. Six moments of his life where, despite being constantly surrounded by death and danger, he’d truly felt alive. Six opportunities to breathe free air—all of them over before he really got a chance to take a deep breath. He should have been used to it by now, considering he knew Sydney’s M.O. Tonight shouldn’t have been any different.

  Except it was different. All the other times she’d disappeared on them, he’d had no choice but to let her go—especially since he had no clue where to look for her afterward. But now, right now, he knew exactly where to find her.

  And every mile put between his location and Sydney’s made it just a little harder to breathe.

  Dex slammed a closed fist against the dashboard. The glove compartment popped open, spilling papers all over the floorboard between his feet.

  “Dude, that dashboard didn’t do anything to you. Make nice and apologize,” Sam said, voice colored with mild amusement.

  “Just shut up and drive,” Dex grumped, stuffing papers back into the glovebox.

  A moment of grim silence. “We’re parked,” Sam said quietly. “I was about to say, ‘in case you haven’t noticed,’ but clearly you haven’t.”

  Dex looked up in surprise. The Galaxy was pulled up in front of a pair of bland motel room doors, windshield wipers off, engine idle. Off to the side, suspended mid-air in the darkness, a cheery neon sign flashed “Motorside Inn” over and over again.

  “Why’d you stop?” Dex demanded. “Syd told us to get the fuck out, remember?”

  Sam pulled the keys out of the ignition and settled his hands in his lap. The dismal halogen bulbs over the motel room doors reflected in his silver eyes. “She did. But she didn’t say how far. We’re three miles east of her location—far enough away to be out of her hair, but close enough to lend a hand if she decides to call for help.”

  Call for help. Dex clenched his fists, then his teeth, as those words sunk in. She’d had his phone number. She’d had his fucking phone number already in her phone. How long? How long had she been able to contact him but never bothered to reach out? All this time…

  He slammed his fist against the dashboard again, harder this time. It left an obvious dent in the plastic.

  Sam sighed. “Come on. Special treat tonight—separate rooms. The motel owner practically fell all over himself to sell me both of them. Guess he doesn’t get much business out here.”

  “You already paid for the rooms?” Dex asked. He frowned. “When did this happen?”

  “When you were off in La La Land, apparently. Must have been doing some hardcore thought reconnaissance, if you didn’t even notice I’d gotten out of the car.” Another sigh, this one filled with fatigue. “Come on, man. A few brews, a few zees, and a new day on the other side of it. Rest and recharge. We can figure out what to do about Sydney Carpenter tomorrow.” He popped the trunk for emphasis.

  Dex shoved open his door in reply. He pushed himself out of the car, grimacing as cold rain sluiced down his neck, and met his partner at the back of the vehicle. Sam handed Dex his go-bag without saying a word, grabbed his own, and slammed the trunk shut. As they moved in tandem toward the relative cover of the second-floor balcony, Dex looked at his partner—really looked at him, for the first time that night.

  Sam looked like hell. Though he hid it better than Dex did, Dex knew Sam had to be going just as crazy as he was. Didn’t matter that they knew—really, truly knew—that Syd could take care of herself. The idea of abandoning her, leaving her to face that many darklings all by her lonesome, had to be setting Sam’s teeth on edge. He was the epitome of the old-fashioned Knight in Shining Armor; fight the dragon, rescue the damsel, save the kingdom for another day. He was the type who would throw his jacket over a mud puddle to keep a woman from getting her dainty feet all wet. The fact that Sydney would probably laugh at him—and make him put the jacket back on afterward—didn’t make a damn bit of difference. He was just wired that way.

  And Dex knew his partner had feelings for Sydney, too.

  They never spoke about it. Guy Code prevented them from sharing such intimate details. But he’d seen the way Sam looked at her. Seen the pain, the heartache, in his partner’s face when Syd chose to sit in Dex’s lap, kiss him, instead of Sam. The guy would never mention it, of course. Never make a scene, or offer to duke it out to see who got the girl. He was Lancelot to Dex’s King Arthur. He’d ride off into the sunset, content with the knowledge they loved each other if he thought it’d make them happy.

  And yet…it wouldn’t, weird as that sounded. He wanted Sydney with a passion that nearly paralyzed him. But he needed Sam to be part of his life, too. Having both of them in his life? Heaven on earth.

  Dex watched Sam out of the corner of his eye as Sam handed over a room key. They’d been together since senior year of high school. Gone into Basic Training at the same time. Served in the same Marine unit in Afghanistan. Learned the truth about darklings—and made it their mission to eradicate them—at the very same time. In many ways, Sam was just as important to Dex’s well-being as Sydney seemed to be. More, in some ways. Sam was a part of him. Sydney might be the air Dex breathed, but Sam was the rock he stood upon. He kept Dex grounded.

  Which should have made it fucked up ten ways to Sunday that his best friend had feelings for the girl he wanted. The first time Dex realized his partner had the hots for Sydney, he’d held his breath and waited for the little green monster to rear its ugly head. But for some strange reason, the thought of the two of them together didn’t make him want to Hulk-out and go all territorial on his ass. In fact, the idea of the two of them together was somehow…comforting.

  Which made no sense. At all.

  “Try to get some sleep,” Sam suggested, pushing his room door open a crack and looking at Dex out of the corner of his eye. “We’ll figure out how to handle this in the morning.”

  “In the morning,” Dex echoed. His voice held no inflection.

  Sam’s shoulders rose and fell with a silent sigh. He shook his head, went through his door, and shoved it closed behind him. Dex stood for a moment, key in hand, and studied the blank wood of his own door. Then he shoved his key into the lock, pushed the door inward,
and let it sit for a moment. Then he pulled the door shut with an audible thud.

  With him still outside of it.

  Setting his jaw, Dex hiked his go-bag higher on his shoulder. Three miles east. Alone, moving through unknown terrain in stormy weather, he should be able to make it in less than an hour.

  Not stopping to think about what he was doing—or the consequences of his actions—Dex set off into the night.

  Chapter 4

  Sydney rocketed out of a dead sleep as thunder shook the motel hard enough to rattle the windows—and the door in its frame. She blinked, glanced toward the standard-motel-issue digital alarm clock on the table between the two beds, and stuffed down a groan. 2:00AM, and the damn storm had to make its presence known to all the petty earthlings below. Stupid thunder. She wrapped the thin blanket tighter around her shoulders and shoved her head under a pillow.

  When the door rattled a second time, she sat bolt upright. Her favorite .22 seemed to manifest in her hand, already pointed toward the disturbance. Carefully, she slid off the bed and reached into the bathroom, flipping on the light before swinging the door halfway shut. It would give her just enough light to see while leaving enough shadows to confuse an attacker. She slung a short white robe around her shoulders, leaving her hair stuck beneath the collar—harder for someone to get a handhold—and left her feet bare. She was already standing at the door, gun pointed upward, when the third knock came. She popped both deadbolts, slid the chain aside, and pulled the door open half an inch.

  “What the fuck?” Without even thinking, Sydney pulled the door open, grabbed a handful of Dex’s shirt, and yanked him inside the room. He was sopping wet, his blond hair slicked back like a cap over his head. “What the fuck are you doing here?”

  Dex stood there, shivering, dripping water all over the place. A small, soaking-wet black bag dropped from his shoulder onto the carpet. His thick leather jacket looked more like a wet bathmat than a piece of protective clothing; obviously, it hadn’t done a damn thing to block the rain from getting to Dex’s skin. He let it fall to the ground, revealing…

  Syd had to swallow. Hard. Holy Christ. If this were a wet t-shirt competition, he would have won, hands-down. His faded gray tee looked more like body paint than fabric, outlining every single one of his six-pack abs. She had to fight the urge to run her hands over them.

  “I had to talk to you,” Dex said, voice gruff from exertion and cold.

  She poked her head out the door, but there was no sign of Sam—or the car. “Did you walk here? I told you I’d call when this was over, dumbass,” she said as she darted into the bathroom and grabbed a nappy towel from the rack over the toilet. She tossed it to him and watched as he rubbed it vigorously over his head. His short blond hair stood up like porcupine quills. “Why the fuck would you risk coming back? What if somebody saw you?”

  He dried the back of his neck, made a face at the state of his shirt, and tossed the now-soaked towel in the direction of the bathtub. “Relax. Bar’s empty. Lights are off in the parking lot. Can’t see thirty feet in front of you out there in the dark. We’re clear.”

  “We’re clear until you have to leave again,” she said acidly. She tossed the gun on the closest bed. “How am I supposed to explain that? My john didn’t get enough of his jollies, so he came back for seconds?”

  The green flecks in his eyes seemed to shimmer in the dim light. “I have something I need to say to you. You can kick my ass to the curb and never speak to me again afterward, but I’ve gotta say it.” He paused, swallowed hard, and whispered, “Please.”

  A knee-jerk snarky comeback died on her tongue as the tone of his voice registered in her mind. She’d thought he was shivering from being out in the mid-autumn mountain rain. But Dex wasn’t shivering—he was trembling. And the look in his eyes…

  She swallowed, gathering the robe around her body as an afterthought. “All right. Say what you need to say.”

  Dex stood silent for a moment, fists clenched at his sides. “I…I just…” He gulped, Adam’s apple trembling along with his jawline. “Syd…I just…I mean, I think I…” But he trailed off.

  Sydney took a half-step closer. “You think what?”

  Another gulp. “I think…I just think…”

  “Think what, Peterson?” A taste of her standard snark leaked through. “Come on, spit it out.”

  “Damn it, Syd,” he grated, voice impossibly rough, “I came to say I…to say…”

  “Say what?”

  “To say…” His whole body trembled. “I think…”

  “Think what?”

  The words burst out of him like a thunderclap. “I think I’m in love with you.”

  Deep, deafening silence fell over the room. Lightning flashed through the thin curtains. Thunder rolled across the mountaintops. Sydney stared at him, the embodiment of the word thunderstruck.

  “You can’t…” She choked, coughed, shook her head. “You can’t mean that.”

  Those eyes never left her face. “I do.” No irony at all.

  Sydney shook her head, hugging the robe around herself like armor. “Dex…please…you can’t…” Great. Now it was her turn to have problems completing a sentence.

  “Six times in seven years,” Dex said, voice growing stronger. “That’s how many times we’ve run into each other. Six times in seven years.”

  “Dex…” God damn it, why are you doing this to me? Why now?

  “I know it doesn’t seem like that much time,” he spoke right over her. He took a step forward. “But I remember every moment, every breath, every millisecond of those six times. That’s how important those memories are to me. That’s how important you are.”

  Her lower lip trembled. “Dex…” You can’t mean that. I’m not that important. I can’t be. Not to you. Oh, Dex…

  “Do you remember the day we met?” He cocked his head just slightly. When her lips twisted into a reluctant smile, he gave her a flat-lipped grin in return. “You rescued Sam and me from those wannabe devil-worshippers like it was nothing. A cake walk. You swooped out of nowhere and bam—” he made a swooping motion with one hand, smacking it against his other palm “—no more darklings. I’d never seen anything like it. Almost didn’t believe you were real.” His smile softened. “But you were. All five-foot-six of you.”

  She laughed, clutching the robe tight beneath her chin and looking aside. “Yeah, well. Can’t help how short I am. Not my fault you two were born giants.” Sexy, too-perfect, impossibly gorgeous giants…

  “You blew me away that day, Sydney,” he said, all seriousness now. His expression held honest awe. “You were with us for an hour. Maximum, two. But it still seemed like forever—and no time at all. I still remember every moment. Every breath. Every heartbeat.” His eyes hardened. “Even the moment you disappeared.”

  Sydney fought the urge to cower away from him like a chastised teenager. “I did what I came to do. You two were supposed to handle the rest.” And I couldn’t risk staying close. Not when the two of you were so gorgeous, so mesmerizing…

  “We didn’t think we’d see you again,” Dex said, ignoring her flippant remark. “But we thought about you, Syd. I thought about you. I wondered if you were out there, somewhere, kicking ass and taking names. I wondered if you even remembered me.”

  How could I possibly forget? “Look, Dex…”

  “Then came Red Rock,” he continued. “Three days. Seventy-two hours. Four thousand, three-hundred-twenty minutes.” A pause as he swallowed hard. “I counted every one.”

  He was killing her. His heartfelt words were going to kill her. “Dex, please…”

  “I had hoped to get some face time with you. Get to know you better. But you took off again as soon as we wrapped up. You just…disappeared again. I…I didn’t…” Another swallow. “I didn’t know what to think. I tried to convince myself it was just lust.” A grimace this time. “Lust and over-active hormones, revved up by adrenaline. I told myself to set you aside, pretend I didn’t
know you. But it didn’t work, Syd. You were always there. In here.” He tapped his temple. “And here.” He tapped his heart.

  Sydney bit the inside of her cheek. Please don’t say these things to me. I’m not worthy of you. Either of you. How can you possibly feel this way when I’m…

  “You popped up again in Salt Lake City.” His voice took on a contemplative tone. “Just a couple hours that time. No big deal. But then…then came Chicago.” He met her eyes. “That was my favorite. Want to know why?”

  She didn’t want to know. She didn’t. But she took a deep, steadying breath, and whispered, “Why?”

  His expression softened. “Because even though we were in constant danger, even though the shit hit the fan more times than I could count, even though we were on the run from darklings and murderers and the scum of the earth itself…I knew you were by my side. Fighting with me. Protecting me. Saving my ass again and again. You were there, Syd. Two solid months.”

  “Two solid months,” she echoed in a strangled whisper. Oh, she remembered it. Remembered the two of them, so strong and powerful, backing her up when she needed it most. Remembered Dex’s smile, and making Sam laugh, and the way the two of them glistened when their hard bodies were covered with sweat…

  He took another step closer. “For those two months, Syd? For those two months, I felt truly alive. Didn’t matter to me if the whole mission went tits-up. Didn’t matter to me if we had to fight our way out of a million different death traps. You were there. And I…I could finally breathe.”