by CW Browning
“What?”
“At the viewing, there was a man she met in Miami. He followed her back. He works for Trasker Pharmaceuticals.”
Stephanie gasped.
“What?!”
“His name is Trent Whitfield.”
“You don’t think...oh my God, you don’t think Angie got involved with the terrorists somehow?!” Stephanie asked, her trembling returning.
“No, but she got dragged into something. He approached her at the viewing, then showed up in the woods outside my house.”
Stephanie gasped again, her mind spinning.
“What?! Why didn’t I know about this?” she demanded. “What happened?”
“He tripped the security. I went out and got a good picture of his face before Raven attacked him.”
Stephanie choked, torn between laughter and outrage.
“Raven attacked him?”
For the first time since she came into the room, Alina grinned a genuine grin.
“Ripped his arm up and got a couple good hits to his head. He must have spent the whole night in the ER.”
“How do you know it was him?” Stephanie asked after a moment.
“I ran the picture through a database this morning and got a hit.”
“And we’re not calling the police why?”
“If he’s involved with Trasker and the terrorists, it’s a little above the LEO paygrade,” said Alina. “I want you to see what you can dig up on him. There might be something I can use.”
Stephanie nodded.
“I’ll start in the morning,” she agreed. “Blake’s bringing my laptop.”
Alina nodded and stood.
“Thank you.”
She turned to leave, then paused and turned back. Stephanie was surprised to see the old Alina she grew up with looking down at her.
“I’m sorry, Steph,” she said softly. “I’m sorry I brought all this back here. If I could go back, I would never have returned to Jersey last year.”
“Then I would never have seen you again,” said Stephanie, reaching out her hand. “I’ll take anything that happens if it means having you back again.”
Alina took her hand and smiled wistfully.
“God, I wish it was that easy,” she said in a low voice.
With those cryptic words, she was gone.
Stephanie watched the door close silently behind her, and leaned her head back tiredly. She hadn’t missed the flash of pain in the dark brown eyes. Alina was getting tired.
And there was nothing Stephanie could do to help her.
Alina emerged from the bathroom, refreshed from her shower, and moved into the bedroom. She had arrived home an hour ago, bearing pizza and beer. As Michael and Angela dug in, she came upstairs to shower and change out of the ridiculous black dress Angela had made her buy for the funeral.
She sat on the edge of the bed and pulled on her boots. Her stomach growled, reminding her that she hadn’t eaten since the coffee shop. She had to eat something, and pizza was the most convenient, if not the healthiest choice.
Alina finished tying her boots and stood up, heading out of the bedroom. She tried to fuel her body well, taking care to eat only healthy, organic meats and vegetables. She limited her carbs and sugar, and tried to limit her fat as much as possible. Her two indulgences were her coffee and the occasional glass of wine. So far, it had served her well. Her body was a well-oiled weapon, and she took care of it accordingly. However, tonight there wasn’t time to make something sensible. Pizza would have to do.
She jogged down the stairs and rounded the corner, striding down the hall. Michael was seated at the dining room table with his laptop, an empty plate and half-empty beer beside it. He glanced up from the screen when she walked down the hall.
“We saved you some pizza,” he said. “I put it in the oven to keep warm.”
“Thanks.”
“Feel better?” Angela called from the living room.
Alina glanced over her shoulder. Angela was lying on the couch, watching the flat screen TV above the mantel.
“I wasn’t feeling bad before,” she said, heading toward the stove.
“Could have fooled me,” said Angela, picking up the remote and switching off the TV. “You looked miserable when you came back.”
“I wanted to get out of that dress,” Alina muttered, opening the oven and pulling out the pizza box. “I’d had enough of heels for one day.”
“Well, you looked fabulous,” Angela told her, rising and picking up her empty plate. She carried it into the kitchen. “Where were you all day?”
“Busy.”
Angela waited for her to continue. When she didn’t, she rolled her eyes.
“That’s enlightening,” she said, opening the dishwasher to put her plate inside. “Busy doing what?”
“How’s your neck?” Alina asked, ignoring the question.
“Hurts like hell. The pain killers are wearing off. I’m just going to take some more and go to bed. I’m wiped out.”
“I can believe it.” Alina took a bite of pizza, not bothering with a plate. Instead, she reached for a piece of paper towel. “You’ve had a long day. I stopped and saw Steph on my way back. She looks better than you do.”
“Gee, thanks!” Angela said with laugh. “She should look better. She spent most of the day sleeping!”
“I don’t think being knocked unconscious and then being under anesthesia counts as sleeping,” Michael interjected humorously from the dining room.
“I would almost rather that than the fourteen stitches I got while I was awake.”
“Look at the bright side,” Alina said. “You’ll have some awesome scars to show off.”
Angela snorted and turned to pull a bottle of water out of the refrigerator.
“I don’t want them. I’ve already got one. It’s hideous.”
Alina blinked and her lips quivered. If Angela knew about only half the scars Viper had collected over the past ten years, she’d have a conniption.
“Scars are sexy,” Michael announced, seeing the look on Alina’s face. He winked at her. “They show you’ve had an interesting life.”
Alina was surprised into a short laugh.
“Speaking from experience?” she asked, taking another bite of pizza and leaning against the bar.
“Of course.” Michael grinned. “I can’t keep the women away.”
“I don’t think that has anything to do with scars,” said Angela over her shoulder. “Scars are not sexy.”
“Ouch!” Alina said. “Michael, you’re out of luck.”
“So are you,” he murmured in a low voice.
Alina shot him a look, her eyes filled with laughter.
“Depends on who you ask,” she retorted before she could stop herself.
“What are you two going on about?” Angela asked, walking around the bar and toward the dining room table where a plastic bag held a pill bottle and her discharge paperwork.
“Nothing.” Alina finished her pizza and straightened up. “Go up and get some rest. You’ve earned it.”
Angela picked up the bag with her pain killers and turned to head down the hall toward the stairs.
“I plan on it. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
Alina tossed the paper towel into the trash and turned to pull her tablet out of the drawer in the kitchen. She carried it over to the bar and sat on a stool, her head bent over the screen.
“What are you doing?” Michael asked after watching her a moment.
“Checking the perimeter,” she said absently. “I’m not happy with one of the camera angles.”
“They seemed fine last night,” Michael said, standing up and walking over to stand next to her. “We were able to see everything we needed to see.”
“For that side, yes,” Alina said, glancing up at him. After a moment’s hesitation, she turned the screen so he could see what she was looking at. “This is the back of the property. One of the cameras shifted, leaving a blind spot. See?”
“Not much of a blind spot. There’s only about two feet you can’t see.”
“How many feet do you think a trained assassin needs?” she asked him politely.
Michael looked at her and straightened up again.
“Point taken.”
“I’m going to adjust it,” Alina said, standing. “I switched off the sensors, so keep alert. There’s no alarm on right now.”
“After this morning, I don’t think I’ve relaxed once,” Michael said, going back to his seat at the dining table. “I’m certainly not going to start now.”
Alina nodded and went to the sliding door.
“I’ll be back soon.”
Chapter Thirty
Viper moved through the trees quickly and silently, completely at ease in the darkness. The camera was on the back perimeter, at the edge where her property met the protected nature reserve. She noticed the camera angle change last night when they had their unexpected visitor. The most likely explanation was that a bird or squirrel knocked it. She pushed a low-hanging branch out of her way. At least, she hoped that was the cause of the camera shift. The alternative was much more unpleasant.
An owl hooted nearby as she passed and something moved in the underbrush, darting across her path and disappearing into a rotten, uprooted tree trunk. Alina smiled faintly, moving easily through the woods. The night creatures paid no attention to her as she passed through their midst, ignoring her as if she were one of them. She didn’t bother them, and they disregarded her. It was a mutual appreciation.
Viper approached the camera a few minutes later and pulled out a Maglite, shining it up into the pine tree where the camera was mounted. Painted to blend perfectly with the tree, it was practically invisible until the bright light illuminated it. Alina pursed her lips. It had shifted slightly to the left and was hanging crookedly.
She pulled two metal loops with pointed ends out of her jacket pocket and switched off the light, tucking it into the outside pocket on her thigh. Using the loops as handles, she quickly scaled the immense tree until she reached the camera, some twenty feet above the ground. Once she was level with it, Viper pulled out the Maglite and switched it on. Examining the casing, she grinned suddenly and put the thin flashlight between her teeth, holding the light steady on the camera. She reached out and plucked a long black feather out of the corner of the camera. Definitely a bird, and her first bet was on Raven himself.
Alina straightened the camera, glancing down to estimate the angle she needed. She straightened it, adjusted it once more, and pulled the Maglite from her mouth, switching it off. Tucking it back into her cargo pocket, she reached into another pocket and pulled out her phone. Swiping the screen, she opened her security app and pulled up the camera. A moment later her phone was back in her pocket and she was backing down out of the tree.
She had just dropped onto the ground again, and was slipping the loops back into her pocket, when a shiver of awareness streaked down her spine. Her breath caught silently in her throat as her heart thumped in warning.
Viper spun around, swinging her right hand in a sharp arc. The side of her palm made hard contact with a wrist, raised defensively against her attack. Her brain registered the defensive block even as she turned her hand to grip the wrist, forcing it down by gripping two pressure points. As she pushed the wrist down with her right hand, her left fist drove into the assailant’s kidney, eliciting a low grunt of pain.
Before she could follow up with another hit, strong fingers clamped down between her shoulder blade and her neck. Blinding pain shot down her arm and up her neck into her head. The pressure increased and she was spun around, her right arm pulled back and up behind her.
“Are you going to stop, or do we keep going?” Hawk demanded in her ear, his voice washing over her like molten lava.
Relief rushed through her, and Viper stilled. As soon as she did, Hawk released her arm and neck. Spinning around, she stared up at him, her heart skipping a beat.
“Hawk! What are you doing here?”
He looked down at her, a slow smile pulling at his lips.
“I was getting bored,” he said with a wink. Then he grimaced and rubbed his back. “Did you have to go for the kidney?”
“That’s what you get for sneaking up on me. You should know better.”
“To be fair, I wasn’t expecting to find you all the way out here,” Hawk said. “What are you doing?”
“Adjusting a camera. I think Raven shifted it. He left damning evidence in the slats.”
Hawk glanced up into the tree.
“Damning evidence?”
“A feather. Did you come on a bike?”
He nodded and motioned to his left.
“It’s over there. I was going to walk to the house.”
She tilted her head and studied him.
“How are you feeling?”
“The incision is sore from riding a motorcycle for four hours,” he answered. “Otherwise, I’m fine.”
“You shouldn’t have come,” she said in a low voice.
Damon stepped closer and looked down at her, settling his hands on her waist.
“You knew I would,” he murmured, his eyes meeting hers. “I’m not sitting this out, especially after what happened this morning.”
Alina felt lost in the shadows in his eyes, his musk surrounding her with comfortable warmth. She raised one hand to his shoulder and the other to his jaw, feeling his five o’clock shadow beneath her fingers, and all the tension of the past few days suddenly ebbed out of her.
“I know,” she whispered.
Damon lowered his lips to touch hers softly, lingering for a long moment before he raised his head again. He raised a hand to trail his fingers along her jaw gently. His eyebrow raised slightly suddenly in question and he moved his hand to her neck. Sliding his fingers under a thin chain resting against her skin, he lifted a necklace out from under her jacket. As he did so, a slow smile curved his lips. The chain was fed through a silver eyelet, welded onto a twisted lump of metal. The bullet that nearly killed them both rested in the palm of his hand. Damon raised his eyes to hers.
“You’re wearing it.”
She nodded slowly.
“I’m going to put it on a bracelet when I have time. I’m not comfortable wearing necklaces, but it will do for now.”
“Thank God he missed today,” he breathed, pulling her close to him in a tight hug.
“Another lucky break,” Alina said, resting her cheek on his shoulder. “Someone dropped a kneeler as he was taking the shot. It went through the lectern and into Stephanie's leg.”
Damon rested his chin on the top of her head, absorbing that news.
“How is she?” he finally asked.
“Fine. They’re keeping her in the hospital for a few days as a precaution.” Alina raised her head and looked up at him. “This luck won’t hold. This is twice now they’ve tried, and each time someone else takes the bullet. This has to stop.”
Damon cupped her face in his palms, his eyes boring into hers.
“Then we’ll stop it.”
His lips settled on hers and she sighed into him. This was what she needed: Hawk’s calm assurance and strength to lean on. The past couple of days had been wearing on her and tonight, on the way back from the hospital, Alina had finally admitted to herself that she was getting tired. She needed the support only Hawk could offer and, for the first time in her life, Alina wasn’t afraid to admit it, or afraid of what it meant.
Michael looked up as the door to the deck slid open. His eyebrows soared into his forehead when Damon followed Alina into the living room. He stood up as Damon closed the door behind them.
“I was wondering if you would show up,” he said, meeting him in the living room and holding out his hand. “Good to see you up and around.”
“Someone had to come keep an eye on the circus,” Damon retorted, a smile softening his words. He grasped Michael’s hand
firmly. “How are you?”
“Can’t complain. How are you feeling?”
“Sore.” Damon moved into the dining room, glancing at the laptop open in front of Michael. “I’ve had worse. How’s it coming?” He nodded to the computer.
“Slow. I haven’t had much time to focus on it,” said Michael, sipping his beer. “I’m making progress, though.”
Alina came out of the kitchen and handed Damon a bottle of water.
“Today wasn’t exactly an easy day,” she said. “He spent most of it at the hospital with Angie and Steph.”
“Angie?” Damon asked, opening the water and taking a long sip. “What happened to her?”
“She got hit with shrapnel from a statue.” Alina picked up the tablet she’d left on the bar and swiped it to examine the camera angles. “She got a few stitches, but she’ll be fine.”
Damon watched her for a beat.
“What happened, exactly?” he asked, pulling out a chair at the dining table and sitting. He turned to face her. “All I know is someone opened fire at the funeral.”
Alina glanced at him, her lips twitching. She set down the tablet, satisfied the camera position was perfect.
“Oh, I’m sure you know more than that,” she murmured, amused. “He was in the organ loft. His first shot went high through the lectern, where Stephanie was giving the first reading. His second shot hit a statue of the Virgin Mary as I passed it. Angie was behind me and took the brunt of the pieces in her neck and shoulder.”
“Blake and I went straight to the organ loft,” said Michael, leaning back in his chair. “He was already gone when we got there. I went to the front of the church and Blake went out the side. We thought we could catch him before he disappeared.”
Damon glanced at him, his expression grim.
“How did he even get in the church?” he demanded. “I thought I made it clear–”
He stopped abruptly, but it was too late. Alina’s eyes narrowed sharply.
“So that’s why you showed up when you did,” she said, looking at Michael. “He sent you.”
Michael had the grace to look sheepish, but Damon looked at her squarely.
“Someone had to watch your back, and I wasn’t in a position to do it.”
