Ky (In the Company of Snipers Book 13)

by Irish Winters

  He had his support system in The TEAM and good parents back in Montana who worried and loved him, but the night still won sometimes. The dark still dripped off the ceiling. The cloying stink of Nizari’s sandalwood oozed up from the floorboards and suffocated every last good thought and mantra. Ky hadn’t had a drink since that night in the ER, but he kept Lee’s number on speed dial, just in case, just to talk ops and training and the latest smart gun on the market in the middle of the night sometimes. Stuff like that. Guy stuff. Just to talk with someone who’d been there and knew the sound of an American voice could save the day. Or the night...

  Brushing a hand over his head to roust out the beanie-hair thing he had going on, Ky worried. I damned near asked her to marry me. What was I thinking?

  But he knew what he’d been thinking. Of never letting Eden go. Of telling her he loved her and making damned sure she knew he’d loved her since she’d come for him in that hall of horrors. Since she’d stayed…

  Marriage seemed more honorable than throwing her over his shoulder and hauling her off to his man-cave for hours and hours of mind-blowing sex. A sneaky combination of lust and over-protectiveness had detonated out of his big mouth the second he’d gotten too close to her fire. Close nothing. Nothing smelled better than the sweet fragrance of this pure woman in heat.

  Did she know how hot-damned hot she was? That he had no defense against her? That he’d been starving for the taste of her for years? That he’d move heaven and hell if she so much as hinted they were out of alignment in the universe? Ky not only wanted her physically, he needed every last beat of her heart. Every last stretch of her perfect soul. Her life.

  Funny thing. The notion of marriage didn’t feel so bad. His hard head rephrased it. Will you marry me, Eden Stark? Would you ever consider doing such a foolish thing? Would she say yes? Should she? Hell no—not if she knew what was good for her. She needed someone better, a whole man. He’d left too much behind in Kabul, and yet...

  Eden Stark was a fire in his blood to stay.

  “You done playing around with federal property that ain’t yours, asshole?” Chase growled from the shadows, interrupting Ky’s tender euphoria.

  He swallowed hard and scrubbed one hand over his stupid face. “Found something.”

  “I’ll just bet you did.” On his feet now, Chase punched one fist into a cupped palm.

  Ky downplayed the taunt before it got the best of him. This FBI agent seemed driven to challenge or denigrate at every turn, like he needed to pick a fight. Like he needed to prove something.

  “Let’s see what you found,” Becker interceded calmly.

  Ky joined them at the fire and handed Becker the patch he’d removed from the back of Eden’s sexy bare leg. Just thinking about her flat on her back with one leg straight up in the air sent another wave of lust to his groin. At least he’d been smart and kept his bulkier frame between Eden and this side of the tent. No shadows.

  Becker still hunkered near the fire. He turned the patch over before he passed it off to Chase. “Looks almost like a bandage. How’d you find it?”

  Chase lifted the patch close to his nose and sniffed it, the bastard. His eyes glittered. “How else? He felt her up and—”

  “You got a problem with me?” Ky barked, ready to dish out as much whoop-ass as it took to back Tucker off once and for all

  Chase squared his shoulders and stuck out that big chin of his, begging to be punched. He had the nerve to walk into Ky’s space before he lanced a hard finger into Ky’s chest. “I got a problem with anyone who fucks with my family, jarhead. You’re damaged goods, and you goddamned know it. Keep your hands to yourself. Stark ain’t yours to play with, you hear me?”

  Ky batted Chase’s hand away, wanting very much to twist it backward and snap it off. The creepy shadow he usually suppressed at the back of his mind jumped to the forefront, ready to knock the shit out of this belligerent asshole and stomp Chase into oblivion. “You think she’s yours?”

  It had been a long time since his ugliest demon had surfaced in daylight, but Chase sure knew how to tap into it and rile it up. It ruled the dark, like Ky explained to Eden. He just hadn’t told her everything. She didn’t need to know how many times he’d awakened in a sweat with his clothes torn to hell, his room, too. Sometimes his entire apartment, if the nightmare won that round.

  He swallowed hard. What have I done? Folks had no idea how bad a panic attack could get, how deep into hell those two words took a guy. No one knew, not until you lay alone in your room, afraid to close your eyes. Afraid that when you woke up, you’d be dangling at the end of a chain again, that being rescued was the dream—eternal torment the reality.

  Chase might be a pain in the ass, but he was right to protect Eden. Ky was damaged goods. He had no business toying with her, thinking they could ever have a normal life together.

  He looked back at the tent full of heaven. Remorse lifted its ugly head and made him think twice about that innocent cup of coffee.

  “Where was it?” Becker asked, breaking the rant inside Ky’s head.

  Now why was that a need-to-know? “Why’s that important?”

  “Because my wife wears a patch like this one for birth control, but there’s nicotine patches, too. I’m hoping you found this—”

  “I know. I wear a nicotine patch, but this was on her calf.” Ky glanced back at the tent where his woman lay resting. My woman. God, it felt good to think of her that way. A guy could almost believe he was worthy. But birth control? What the hell was Zaroyin up to? Ky’s fists curled into two hammers. “It’s not a nicotine patch. She doesn’t smoke.”

  “No, she doesn’t. She’s as pure as the driven snow,” Tucker declared, an edge to his voice. “Least she was.”

  Ky whirled on the son-of-a-bitch. “Knock it off. We’re all here to save Eden Stark, so quit already.”

  Chase pointed to the east, the whip of command in his voice “Our being here voids your contract, dirtbag. Go home. Get the hell out of here. Let us do our job.”

  Ky forced slow, even breaths. “Then why don’t you ring up Alex Stewart and tell him what you think, like he gives a rat’s ass? Hell, play it on speaker so we can all get a laugh. I’d love to hear the end of that short and meaningless conversation.”

  Chase rolled his eyes at the dare, but Ky saw the hesitation. If he’d really worked with Alex like he said he had, Chase knew damned well how that phone call to Alexandria would end. Alex said what Alex meant to say, and people jumped when he did, or they got the hell out of his way. Or he knocked them down and ran over them.

  Ky dragged his sat phone up from his pants pocket, daring Chase to make a bigger fool of himself than he already had. Alex would surely do it for him.

  “Let it go, Tucker,” Sam said quietly.

  Chase never broke eye contact, but Ky backed off. A fistfight would wake Eden, and Chase wasn’t worth it. Ky put the phone away and opted for a side run instead of the frontal assault he and Chase always seemed to end up in. “When did you guys work with my boss? In the service?”

  “Nope. Remember that helicopter crash on the White House lawn a couple years back?” Becker replied evenly. “I was there. So was Stewart. We worked the same undercover sting. He’s not the kind of a guy to back down from a fight. Trust me, I know. I got my ass kicked after that op, good. The man means what he says. He told me to stay the hell away from his wife, and by God, he meant it. My jaw still hurts, and I was just trying to be nice. There’s no sense calling Stewart or Strong. We’ll be glad to work with you, right, Tucker?”

  Chase slapped his fist into his open palm again, but growled, “Yeah. Shit. Why not?”

  He seemed full of more attitude than Becker. Less of a diplomat. Always ready to fight. The man seemed to have unresolved issues eating at him, and honestly, Ky understood. He could write a book on unresolved issues, but he and Chase needed to find common ground before they came to blows, and it wasn’t going to be Eden.

  Once again, Ky tried
to breach the chasm between him and Chase. “So how do you know Alex?”

  “Undercover op in northern Cali. He lost a good agent. I ran a little recon for him afterward. Got the bastard we were both after. No big deal.”

  Ky breathed a sigh of relief. These guys weren’t so bad. Neither of them. He rolled the kink out of his neck and went for broke. “You have feelings for Eden, don’t you?”

  Icy blue eyes zeroed in on Ky. Damn. He had the same killer look as Alex on a bad day. “She’s a good kid. I’d like to keep her that way if it’s all the same with you.”

  Ky let it go. He knew Eden, and because he did, he understood Chase better. They were on the same side. This big blowhard was her brother, not her lover. If anything, his feelings for her were overly protective, ready to get down and nasty if that kept her safe.

  “Your friend showed us the implants he dug out of our guys,” Becker said, unruffled by the near showdown. “You’re right. The wired-in device was definitely a tracking locator. I’ve never seen one implanted, though, not with an antennae wire. The eight-legged thing? That’s new. Could be just what Tate said it was—a mind-control device. It makes sense, since it was under her scalp.”

  “Where’s Tate?”

  Chase chin-nodded to the east. “He said he had a date with a moose or something. Took a hank of rope with him.”

  Good. Ky noticed Tate had retrieved all the rope he could carry from the downed Cessna. That meant fresh, red meat for dinner, and maybe that the six dead men would soon be trussed up high in the trees. Ky looked eastward. Burgeoning gray clouds rolled overhead, drifting low and skimming the treetops. Snow clouds. He wondered if Tate needed help wrangling those bodies or hunting. He’d never ask for it, and Ky doubted he’d accept it. That was Tate for you, a loner through and through.

  “She doing okay?” Chase asked, his tone softer.

  “She’s tougher than she looks,” Ky answered. “How much ammo are you two packing?”

  “Enough.” Chase instantly reverted to his mind-your-damned-business tone. A look Ky couldn’t decipher passed between him and Sam. What was really going on?

  “We brought enough to take down a couple dozen more drones if we need to,” Sam interjected before Ky had time to dwell on his uneasy feeling, “unless your buddy brings back the Omni 9000s the last six guys were carrying, or we get out of here before anyone else shows up. You got a flight plan?”

  “Did. Not now. Our pilot’s stranded in Thunder Bay until this weather clears.”

  “Ours too.” Sam cocked his head to the east. “Your buddy doesn’t say much, does he?”

  Ky nodded. “Tate’s quiet like that.” He glanced back at his tent and brushed the first of many flakes off his shoulders. “I’ve got MREs to go with whatever dinner Tate brings back.”

  “It’s not like he’s going to find anything with this storm coming in anyway,” Chase groused. “Big game lies down when the weather’s bad. A real hunter would know that. You guys got any drinking water?”

  Ky ignored Chase’s opinion on Tate’s hunting prowess and offered his remaining bottle of melted snow. The jerk never gave anyone a chance. “Always. You thirsty?”

  “Yes,” Chase admitted as he lifted the bottle to his lips and drained it. Wiping his mouth with the back of his gloved hand, he grunted and returned the empty bottle with an exasperated, “We’ve been humping since we touched down. Couldn’t waste time to melt snow to drink. Had to get here before Zaroyin’s men.”

  That explained a lot. Hungry and dehydrated were not a good combination in the freezing temperatures. Neither was stupidity. Chase should’ve taken the time to melt snow and keep himself hydrated. “Why are you guys here? I thought the FBI couldn’t operate up north.”

  “I don’t give a shit about protocol, Canadian or U.S.,” Sam drawled. “Eden saved my life a couple years back. I owe her.”

  “If you must know, we’re officially off the books,” Chase piped up. “At least you’re on contract. Strong will fire me when he finds out I’m here.”

  Tucker Chase had just climbed up a few notches in Ky’s esteem. “What’d she do for you?”

  “None of your son-of-a-bitchin’ business. I’m here to keep her safe. From everyone, asshole.”

  God, the man took one step forward and ten back. Whatever Eden had done for him must’ve left a powerful impression. “Do you have any idea how many more of these drones are after her?” Ky asked, trying like hell to keep the conversation on neutral territory.

  “That’s the thing,” Sam muttered, his voice low. “Zaroyin’s got dozens of these young bucks signed up to his drone program, maybe more. Poor bastards had no idea what they were getting into. Bick funded him, and—”

  “Senator Bick?” Ky asked, just to be sure he’d heard right.

  “Yeah. Bick tacked a line of pure pork belly onto the latest appropriation bill before it went to Congress,” Sam replied.

  “Pork nothing. It was pure bullshit legislation is what it is,” Chase replied. “The president should’ve vetoed it. Why? You know him?”

  A dirty fingernail slithered up Ky’s spinal column. This whole Dr. Zaroyin debacle had just gotten a hell of a lot worse. Bick came from old money. He had friends in high places, and he wanted power. His wife, a movie star straight out of Hollywood’s liberal agenda, was a gold-digger of the brightest magnitude. She detested the military, said the men and women who kept her sorry ass free made America look bad. His blood boiled just thinking about Cassandra Bick.

  “Yeah. I know him all right,” Ky admitted. “Tate and I saved his ass in Morocco a year ago. I can’t prove it, but he said some things on our way out of the country. I’m pretty certain he’s into the illegal diamond trade.”

  “Figures you’d do something stupid like that. You should’ve left him there, dumbass,” Chase hissed. “He’s on Strong’s list of possible traitors. We’re watching him.”

  “He’s suspected of dealing with Al Qaida, but we can’t prove it,” Sam rumbled. “Who asked you to go get him, Ky?”

  “Strong. He wanted Bick on U.S. soil. Alex made it happen.” Ky looked back at the tent where hopefully, Eden lay sleeping. Tate’s words came back to him. Let ’em come.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Eden stretched languidly, or as languidly as she could under the deep layer of blankets. She pulled Ky’s jacket to her nose and inhaled the rich, musky scent of him off the collar. Sweat and aftershave. Cool spice and musky man scent. She’d been wrapped up in him and finally slept decently. Best men’s cologne ever.

  Being rescued did have its merits, and Ky certainly was one of them. Better yet, he’d allowed her touch during their last encounter—not like he’d had a choice once his self-control had evaporated along with hers. Maybe that was all he needed—to want someone so badly that his deep-seated compulsion took a back seat to pleasure and passion. To love.

  Because that was what it was. Like it or not, she knew this man. He might have some monsters to tame, but who didn’t? He was a keeper, and she meant to keep him now that she’d found him again.

  Her muscles still ached for him in all the best places. Scrambling to her feet, she folded Ky’s TEAMwear jacket over her arm. They’d gotten intimate darned fast, but the memory of his powerful hands roaming over her bare skin sent shivers rocketing up the back of her neck. Right on cue, a smile stretched across her face and love filled her heart. Handsome Ky Winchester was with her in the flesh, not thousands of miles away in some Afghanistan cell. Now they just needed to survive Zaroyin.

  Out she went into the wintry weather, rested and her heart light. For the first time in a couple of days, no headache squeezed her tired brain. It had yet to come up with answers to all of her questions, but she wasn’t worried, not with her two best agent friends in camp. They’d help her figure it out. Tate wasn’t so bad, either. He didn’t like her much, but she could see it in his eyes. He was coming around.

  It had gotten dark. Snowflakes fell steadily except over the fire. So
meone had rigged a nylon tarp at an angle up in the trees to prevent the snow from dousing the flames. Her nose picked up a lovely scent. She lifted her face and sniffed again, drawing the delicious aroma in. A slab of actual meat sizzled over the flame. Tiny tendrils of white smoke and the most delectable flavor sensation lifted up through the steady falling snow. While Tate turned a makeshift spit, Eden licked her lips and joined Ky in the chilly circle. Her stomach growled. “What time is it?”

  “Dinnertime. How’d you sleep?” Ky asked, his eyes on the fire.

  She returned a knowing smile, wishing he’d caught it. “Good. My headache’s finally gone. Here’s your jacket. Where’d you get, umm, the beef?”

  Ky nodded toward Tate as he shrugged into his TEAMwear. “Courtesy of Tate. It’s yearling moose, not beef. Nearly done burning, too.”

  Tucker muttered too low for Eden to catch what he’d said, but she let it go. She dropped next to Ky. “Thanks, Tate. That was thoughtful. Where’s the rest of it?”

  He grunted. “Up in a tree. Where else?”

  Enough said. Eden glanced shyly at Ky, but he had yet to meet her eyes, and she wanted him to. “Those heat things were a good idea, Ky. I slept like a baby.”

  “Good. You needed a decent rest after what you’ve been through. Look what else Tate rigged up while you were sleeping.” He jerked his head back at the tent, still avoiding eye contact.

  No wonder she’d been comfortable and warm. A pine bough structure and a thick layer of snow now covered the tent. “Did you do that for me?” she asked Tate.

  He grunted as usual, but she was getting used to his standard, non-answer kind of answers.

  She patted his forearm, more determined than ever to get to the bottom of his anti-social vibes. “I mean it, Tate. I’d be a mess without you. Thanks.”

  He looked away, so she let it go. Some men were just like that. Recalcitrant. Grumpy. Loners, like her. But she did notice the reddish creep of color over his bronzed cheeks. Yeah. He was coming around, but what had happened to Ky? Why the cold shoulder? She tucked her fingers into the crook of his arm and leaned into him, determined he was not getting away from her. “Hi there,” she murmured.