by Nana Malone
It wasn’t like the man knew that East and I were like fire and ice, so it’s no wonder he didn’t get it. "I'm not working with him. Find someone else."
"I see you still don't understand, Agent Kincade. There is no one else. He is the other half of your team. You'll only be able to do this together. He'll have access into places that you'll never even imagine. So you can either have what you want, or stand by on the sidelines and watch someone else take the glory."
"I don't do this for glory. I do it because it's right."
"Again, spoken like someone else I know. You'll need to move quickly, and I'll need your decision by tomorrow night. I don't care how intimately acquainted you and Mr. Hale are. That's not what this is about. I'm not a matchmaker. I merely need a job done. Either you can do it, or you can't."
Just how the hell did know about me and East?
East
"Are you sure you want to go through with this?"
I stared at Bridge in the bloody van, armed with my computers all around him. Ben and Drew were on coms at home. "You realize I can do this, right?"
Bridge frowned. "Lucas is out there somewhere in the dark, ready to give you an assist if you need one."
Lucas's voice chimed in the coms. "I'm just a beep in your pocket, mate."
I groaned. "Please stop saying mate."
"Hey, I'm British. Didn't you know?"
God, the prince was such a pain in the arse. "Look, it'll be fine. I'm just going to meet my new partner in crime. I pray that we don't get arrested or shot at. It will be good, right?"
Bridge mumbled something under his breath along the lines of, “God help us all. God save the queen.”
"You don't even care about the queen."
He shrugged. "Yeah, but I care about your arse not getting shot, killed, or exposed. Any of those things really."
Ben's voice was sterner than usual over the coms. "Look, just be serious. Meet who you have to meet. Let's get this shit over with, shall we?"
Bridge once again patted me down, making sure I was ready. "Thanks, Mum. I got dressed all by myself."
He glowered. "Fine, make fun. But that thing there is probably going to save your life."
"Not if they stick a headshot, arsehole."
"If someone's angry enough to take a headshot, well, it was nice knowing you." He shrugged.
"I see. You're so concerned, aren't you?"
His grin flashed. "You're not that pretty. I won't miss you nearly as much as I'd miss Ben."
Ben's chuckle was rich. "I knew you thought I was pretty."
"Oi, would you lot shut it? I have to go out there and pretend I'm a badarse. So let me have my gun."
Bridge handed me a weapon warily.
"I see the look on your face. Might I remind you that I'm an excellent marksman, even if I do prefer computers to actual weaponry?"
"Yeah, yeah, except I haven't seen you on the range lately."
"Arsehole."
I slid the door of the van open, the chilly night air sneaking in and biting me in the joints. "Fuck me."
Lucas joined in. "No thanks. I'd rather fuck Bryna. She's cuter."
"Is everyone done with the jokes now?" I mumbled.
Ben chimed in. "Well, I didn't know that we were having a joke-off, but now that I do..."
"I swear to God, when this is over, I'm taking my position back in the van."
"Promises, promises." That was from Bridge.
I walked on the small path that was lined with perfectly trimmed hedges. Primrose Hill was a familiar neighborhood. I knew the ins and outs, and it was easy to hide, easy to mask yourself as someone who was just simply walking a dog or taking an evening stroll. At the massive statue, I took a left. Then another right, following the path, meandering as if I was out for my evening constitutional. And then I found the bench where I'd been told to wait. I checked my watch. Two minutes early. I'd be fine. Not like a sniper couldn't take an easy aim at me from here.
Relax, mate. Relax. It's fine.
I was just skittish because an international jewel thief was blackmailing me into helping him. What was there to be nervous about?
I heard the shuffle of feet on the gravel, and I turned my head at the noise. Fifteen meters away, I saw a woman walking briskly. She was dressed head to toe in black, including a woven cap on her head. Her march was familiar. Too familiar. I sat up even straighter. "Mates, are you getting this?"
It was Lucas who spoke. "Yup. A woman. Five foot eight. Could be Caucasian. Possibly Latin. Spanish, maybe? Long caramel colored hair pulled back in a braid. Big rack. Great arse."
Over the coms, Bridge muttered, "What was that all about Bryna?"
Lucas just laughed and quipped, "She has her own incredible arse too. I’m just not blind."
My stomach pitched because I knew who was walking toward me.
Fuck.
Was this some kind of Interpol thing? Had I walked into a trap? I stood before she even reached me. With ten yards to go, her step faltered when she saw me under the light. "East?"
"Fucking Nyla?"
Over the coms, everyone cursed. Ben, Bridge, Drew, even Lucas. "That's fucking Nyla?"
I shook my head. "I don't know what game you're playing, but turn right back around and go back where you came from.” I pointed over her head to really emphasize she needed to go in the opposite direction.
"Quit your bitching. Theroux told me to meet you here. So I'm not going anywhere until we speak and outline what we're going to do."
"You're going to have to figure something else out because you and I are not speaking."
"What do you want to do, East? This is the deal. I'm who Theroux wants you to meet."
I shook my head. Even though I knew in my bones that I was there to meet her, I still refused to accept it. "No. Fuck that. And fuck you Theroux," I screamed to nobody in particular. "I'm not doing this. I'm not fucking working with you."
She crossed her arms over her ample chest. "I don't think you have any choice. I'm the only game in town. So it's either you work with me, or whatever situation you have going on with Theroux is over. And if you're like me, you have a reason for being here."
"Bullshit. I'm not stuck anywhere. I'm exactly where I want to be."
"Well then, so am I."
She had to stop this. She was going to get hurt. "I don't know what you're playing at, but this isn't fun and games. This isn't James Bond putting on a wax mask and running around being a spy. This is serious business. And you're not ready for it."
"I'm not ready for it says the guy who’s usually in the van. I'm actually an Interpol agent. Trained to handle guns and catch bad guys. I have the experience for this."
"What the fuck do you want with Theroux?"
"That's none of your business. Just know that I'm here to do my part and move on. I'm not here for you."
On the line, Lucas muttered, "Ouch."
Ben, ever helpful, whispered, "Fuck, direct hit."
I heard clattering and moaning on the line, and then Bridge perked up with, "Yeah, that was me, after I got shot right in the heart."
And then there was Drew, ever the pragmatist, calling in from home. "Maybe you stop trying to antagonize her and get this done?"
Fucking Drew. He and I were going to have a conversation because I didn't know what was going on with him.
"You and I, Nyla, we're done. We have nothing to talk about."
"That's great, because I'm here to work. I have my reason for working with Theroux, and I’m sure you have yours. I just don't care about yours. And you shouldn't care about mine. What you should care about is getting the job done."
Fuck that. Such bullshit.
“I'm not working for Interpol, right now. As you know, I was suspended."
"Yeah, so you say."
"So I do. You're either going to trust me or not. That's entirely up to you." Nyla's gaze bore into mine. "What's it going to be, East?"
I knew what it was going to be. I had lost th
e moment she walked up to me. I didn’t know what kind of game Theroux was playing, but he was winning. He was an expert player and had moved the chess pieces just so. This job was designed to torture and torment me, and he was doing an excellent job of it.
"Fine. Whatever. I'm stuck with you for now, I suppose, but after this, we're done."
Her eyes slid over my body, making my skin feel prickly hot in every place she touched with her gaze. But then her eyes narrowed, and she said, "Yeah, well, someone should tell your dick that, because right now, you're hard."
And that was how Nyla Kincade dropped the mic on me.
Nyla
I knew his friends were listening because the fucking London Lords didn't do anything by themselves. Ever.
That’s better than doing everything by yourself. Where is your goddamn backup?
Under normal circumstances, I would have had Amelia in the background somewhere. Watching. Recording. Sitting by with a gun just in case I was idiot enough to get shot. But now? Now there was no one. Just myself. Standing there, just a girl in front of a guy, begging him not to shoot her. Okay fine, also begging him to still love her. But even I knew that was a fallacy, because East Hale had never loved me.
He was able to just cut me out like that for no good reason. He ghosted me and then walked away. I had been a game to him. And unfortunately, I was not free of this game yet.
My phone rang in my back pocket, and as I pulled it out, it was again an unknown number. "Hello."
"Agent Kincade, I'm so thrilled that you are able to follow instructions. Could you put the phone on speaker, please?"
I scowled but did as I was told, all the while thinking to myself, He vowed to turn himself in to you. You will be the one to bring him in. Just do as you're told.
I hit speaker. "Now it's on speaker. We can both hear you."
East's eyes went wide, and he mouthed, "Theroux?" and I nodded.
"Well, I'm so pleased to see you two follow directions. Mr. Hale, before you get your knickers in a twist, I couldn't tell you Agent Kincade was one of mine. You never would have agreed, especially since your relationship busted up the way it did."
My gut twisted, because how the fuck did he know?
East looked as displeased as I did, with a deep scowl on his otherwise smooth and handsome face. The moonlight gave harsh slants, making his face far angrier than it already was. All ticking jaw muscle along that gorgeous bone.
"Just so you know, I’ve gone to quite a bit of trouble to make this happen, so please, do try and follow the rules. Mr. Hale, you know what I've got over you, and Agent Kincade, you know what's at stake. I thought you could just work together, so if you could try not to have a kerfuffle or two, that would be excellent."
I sniffed. “I don't think I've ever had a kerfuffle.”
"Oh, so we won't count that one time in the park when you two had what we'll just call a ‘dustup’? In full view of witnesses?"
How the hell did he know about that?
East's gaze met mine, and his expression was unreadable. There was no disdain. No anger. Maybe confusion? I wasn't sure.
"I trust the two of you can be adults and still work together even though your relationship is over?"
Way to slice home. I didn't deserve some random thief who seemed to be one step ahead of me the whole time pointing out to me that my relationship was over. That the one person I'd trusted in years had walked away from me without a word. My gut knotted, and I felt like the bottom of my world fell out and I was in a free fall. He looked just the same. Handsome, with a beautifully chiseled jaw, full lips, dimples for days, and deep-set moss-green eyes. The wind ruffled his hair, making it look sex-disheveled. Fuck. I missed him. The pain was so tight and pinpoint accurate that I thought my heart was going to burst, and not in a good way. But instead, I tilted my chin. "I can stay professional if he can."
A muscle at East's jaw ticked. "I'm always professional."
I wanted to scream at him then. Scream, 'Oh yeah, is that why you fucked me and then left without a word? Used me and cast me aside?'
Instead, I said, "Fucking hell. You know what, this might not be worth it."
Theroux was quick to stop my retreat. "You know what's at stake. Now that the two of you have met and you know who your ally is, I'll tell you the target. Henry Warlow."
I frowned. "I don't know that name. Should I?"
East looked just as confused as I did.
"Henry Warlow," Theroux said, "is an old adversary of mine. And you can relax, Agent Kincade. I don't want you to kill him. I just want him found."
“When did you last see him?”
“Henry Warlow was last seen in Italy thirty years ago. That’s all the information I have.”
East crossed his arms, looking utterly displeased. And I knew why. A hunt for someone who hasn’t surfaced in thirty years would be next to impossible.
"Okay, why do you need him?" I asked.
"That, my dear, is my business. Your job is just to find him."
"No, I want to know what you need him for, because as I said, I might not be Interpol anymore, but I don't kill people, and I don't break the law."
His chuckle was low and self-satisfied with a hint of amusement. "No, of course, you don't. Agent Kincade, I know that you don't trust anybody. But I assure you, my word is my bond. After all, what would be the point of doing business if you couldn't be trusted?"
"Said the thief," I muttered.
The corner of East's lips tipped up then. "You're counting on him to do something for you?"
"Mr. Hale, I would suggest that you mind your damn business. How you got here and how she got here are two different things.” Theroux cleared his throat and returned to his more even tone of voice. “But I assure you, I'm not looking to kill him. The man owes me money. Actually, he stole something very valuable from me, and I would like it back. So, I have no desire to kill anyone. I need you to find him first, and then we need to locate what he stole from me."
"Jesus Christ, I'm helping a thief?"
"Think of it as you are finding a missing person."
East chuckled then. "Oh, so you think it’ll be easy finding someone who hasn't been seen in thirty years? We don't know what alias he's using now. You probably don’t have any of his last knowns, do you?"
"Yes, I do," Theroux said. "Look for a de Montague. I have been searching for both the Henry Warlow name and his other aliases for thirty years to no avail. I haven't found hide nor hair of them, but somehow, I think someone as connected as you, Mr. Hale, and someone as resourceful as you, Agent Kincade, will be the ones to make this happen. You'll be the ones to bring poor Henry Warlow home to answer for the things that he's done and to give back what he's taken."
My stomach didn't feel any better. "Let's just be very clear, Theroux. If we find Warlow, I'm not handing him over to you until you live up to your end of the bargain. Because you were right when you said I don't trust anybody."
I leveled a very direct gaze on East so he would know that I meant him. That he would know the depth of my rage toward him.
"Theroux, while I hate to agree with Agent Kincade, because she… Well, she doesn't trust anyone, and she's quite untrustworthy herself, I'd have to agree on this fact. So I’ll need you in person, handing over my file, before I hand over the person you want."
"I knew the two of you would work very well together. See, you're already thinking alike. Excellent, you have a week to find him."
I laughed. "You haven't found him in thirty years, and you think we'll find him in a week? It'll take longer than that."
East agreed with me, shockingly. "She's right. Finding people takes time. It's like a puzzle you'll have to unravel. If he doesn't want to be found, he could stay hidden even longer."
"Fine, I'll check in after a week. Do find something of use to report."
And then Theroux was gone.
I glowered at East. "So, what does he have on you?"
"Nothing."
&nbs
p; "I see. So, we're lying now? Well, to catch a thief, it takes a thief, right? So, you're definitely the right person for the job of finding this Henry Warlow character."
"I'm not a thief, Nyla."
"But you and I both know that’s not entirely true."
"Still towing the line now, even though you're not Interpol now? I'm glad to hear you're not into killing people these days."
"What the fuck, East? You might not be who you pretended to be, but I was exactly who I said I was. I never lied to you."
"Sure, you haven't. You go and work alone, Nyla Kincade."
As he turned to leave, I called out after him. "Oh no you don't."
But he kept walking, forcing me to run after him, cutting off his path of escape. "We have to figure out a plan."
"The plan is, I'm going to find him, give him to Theroux, and be done with all this."
"You heard him. He wants us to work together."
"Fine. You look up whatever you can find and then let me know what you have."
"Oh no." I shook my head. "That's not how we're doing this. I'm not giving Theroux the chance to slip through my fingers. We either do this together, or we’re not doing this at all. And I will do everything in my power to thwart your search. So you're stuck with me, which means revoking all your persona-non-grata bullshit at the hotel. And you actually have to answer your fucking phones now. But don’t worry. I'm not going to be a stalker ex-girlfriend on you. You have nothing I want."
He stepped into my space then, and my breath caught. The night was chilly, but his heat seeped through me, making me soft and languid. "Let's not forget. I know exactly what you want."
"Like I said before, I'm not in this for you. I don't make the same mistakes twice. So let’s get this thing done so we can be done. I'm getting tired of playing these games. I'd rather be with a fucking grown up."
“Sweetheart,” he started.
“I’m not your bloody sweetheart.”
“If you say so. But I should probably mention I’ve seen the name Henry Warlow before.”
I lifted my brows. “Where?”
“Old photo of a boat race. In Lord Jameson’s office.”
