After Midnight: (A Penguin Special from Signet Eclipse) (Killer Instincts)

BOOK: After Midnight: (A Penguin Special from Signet Eclipse) (Killer Instincts)
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AFTER MIDNIGHT

Elle Kennedy

SIGNET ECLIPSE

Published by the Penguin Group

Penguin Group (USA) LLC, 375 Hudson Street,

New York, New York 10014

USA / Canada / UK / Ireland / Australia / New Zealand / India / South Africa / China

penguin.com

A Penguin Random House Company

First published by Signet Eclipse, an imprint of New American Library,

a division of Penguin Group (USA) LLC

Copyright © Leeanne Kennedy, 2014

Penguin supports copyright. Copyright fuels creativity, encourages diverse voices, promotes free speech, and creates a vibrant culture. Thank you for buying an authorized edition of this book and for complying with copyright laws by not reproducing, scanning, or distributing any part of it in any form without permission. You are supporting writers and allowing Penguin to continue to publish books for every reader.

SIGNET ECLIPSE and logo are trademarks of Penguin Group (USA) LLC.

ISBN: 978-0-698-17109-1

PUBLISHER’S NOTE

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

Version_1

Contents

Title page

Copyright page

 

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter One

“I really don’t have the patience for games, Masud. Ask anyone who knows me and they’ll tell you I can’t play a single card game for more than five minutes. I always have to leave and find something more productive to do. Like sharpening my knives.”

Kane Woodland hid his amusement as the redhead across the room lightly dragged a razor-sharp blade over her captive’s neck. The man tied to the chair flinched as if expecting the knife to draw blood, but his tormenter simply chuckled and moved her hand away.

“Sharp, huh?” She stepped in front of him and smiled pleasantly. “I have this great sharpening stone at home, had to order it online because my knife guy ran out of the kind I like. I prefer stones with finer grit, you know? Gives the blade a smoother finish.”

A smile tickled Kane’s lips as she waved the weapon in the air like she was showing the damn thing off. The silver edge winked in the single light bulb dangling from the ceiling, casting white dots over the bound man’s head. Dark, panicky eyes followed the trajectory of the knife, but the redhead didn’t go on the attack. She seemed content toying with her prey, dragging out his fear for as long as humanly possible.

There was no denying it—Kane’s wife was absolutely terrifying.

And maybe it was completely inappropriate considering where they were and what they were doing, but watching Abby interrogate their suspect had gotten his cock semi-hard. Plus, the fact that she had a ‘knife guy’ on speed dial? Just another frickin’ turn-on.

He’d known from the start that he was marrying a warrior, but seeing Abby in action never failed to impress him. And amuse him. And, messed up as it was, arouse the living daylights out of him.

“Go ahead and use your sharp knife on me,” Masud Aswad burst out in heavily accented English. His dark complexion had reddened with anger, an ugly scowl marring his thin lips. “I already told you I don’t know anything. You’re wasting your time.”

Abby squatted on the floor and rested the KA-BAR on her denim-clad thigh. “No,
you’re
wasting my time. We know you’re working with Nazara. We know you were involved in the abduction. And we know you were the one who delivered the ransom note to Kathy Aberdeen.” She slanted her head, yellow-brown eyes taking on a deadly glint. “What we don’t know is where you stashed the boy. Tell us now, and you can spend the rest of your life behind bars. Don’t tell us, and it’ll be in a coffin.”

Aswad stared back in defiance. “Kill me. I have nothing more to say to you.”

Abby rose with a heavy sigh. “All right, Masud, we’ll do it your way.” She glanced at Kane over her shoulder. “Do you have a coin on you, babe?”

“Of course, sweetheart.” Grinning, he reached into his pocket and fished out some loose change. “Quarter okay?”

“Perfect.” She easily caught the shiny coin he tossed her way then turned back to Masud, whose expression now flickered with bewilderment.

“What’s that for?” the man demanded.

“Standard operating procedure. My husband and I always flip a coin to see which one of us gets the honor of killing a scumbag.” Her tone grew downright cheerful. “But we have very different methods. Kane likes it fast and simple, usually a tidy bullet to the head.” She shrugged. “Boring, in my opinion.”

“Now, sweetheart, there’s nothing wrong with military efficiency,” Kane chided, sidling up beside her. He playfully tugged on a strand of her hair before addressing Aswad. “Abby, on the other hand . . . well, if I’m being honest, she suffers from a mild case of bloodlust. I’m sure you’ve already noticed how much she loves that knife. Her methods are more medieval than mine, I’m afraid. Time-consuming, too. I mean, it takes time to slice someone up into little pieces.”

No mistaking the flicker of fear in the other man’s eyes. Aswad’s skinny arms jerked as he tested his bindings for the hundredth time in the past thirty minutes. Just like before, his shoulders slumped in defeat when he realized he was indeed trapped. There’d be no escaping Kane’s tight-as-fuck knots.

“Call it?” Abby prompted.

Kane pursed his lips. “Tails never fails.”

Nodding, she flicked the coin up in the air. Three pairs of eyes followed the downward path of the quarter as it sailed back into Abby’s palm. She slapped a hand over it, glanced at Aswad, and slowly revealed the coin.

Heads.

“Crap.” Kane released a sigh. “Can I wait outside for this, sweetheart? I know it’ll take a while, and I have some e-mails to answer.”

“No problem,” she said graciously. “I’ll give you a shout when I’m ready to dump the body.”

As Aswad’s face paled, Kane leaned in and brushed a kiss over her lips. Fought not to slip his tongue in her mouth, because damn, he really, really wanted a hot make-out session right now. But they had a job to do and a little boy to find, which trumped his horny need to play tonsil hockey with his wife.

“It was nice knowing you, Masud,” Kane told the soon-to-be-dead man. “Feel free to scream as loud as you want. There’s nobody around for miles.”

A second later, he slid out the door of the rundown desert shack and emerged into the muggy night air. No lights illuminated the area, and no other houses dotted the barren landscape, just a dark expanse of endless sand. He pulled out his cell phone as he stalked toward the beat-up Jeep, dialing the boss’s number.

Jim Morgan had demanded hourly updates. Not a typical request, but given the importance and high-profile nature of the mission, Kane understood the need for constant contact.

Four days ago, the two-year-old son of Kathy Aberdeen, the American Ambassador to Egypt, had been abducted in broad daylight, a daring crime that was currently dominating every news outlet on the globe.

Tommy Aberdeen was snatched during a trip to the market with his nanny, and neither law enforcement nor special task forces had been able to uncover a single lead as to the boy’s whereabouts. They were currently negotiating with the man who’d claimed responsibility for the kidnapping and was demanding ransom for the child—Khalid Nazara, a drug dealer operating out of Cairo. Nazara wanted money, an obscene amount of it, but nobody was foolish enough to believe he’d actually return Tommy Aberdeen once he scored his cash. Which was why the unofficial assistance of Morgan’s team had been requested.

Jim Morgan’s mercenaries had a reputation for getting results. While law enforcement continued to “deal” with Nazara, Morgan’s people were diligently working behind the scenes to locate the kidnappers and extract Ambassador Aberdeen’s only child. They’d already tracked down two of Nazara’s associates and confirmed the involvement of both men, but the location of Nazara and his young hostage remained a mystery.

Hopefully, Abby was about to solve that mystery.

“Hey,” Kane said when Morgan answered. “Aswad’s still not talking, but I think that’s about to change.”

A deep chuckle sounded in his ear. “You left him alone with Abby, huh?”

“Damn right. We both know she’s capable of scaring the truth out of anyone. Hell, she scares
me
, and she let me marry her.” He unconsciously reached into his pocket for his cigarette pack, only to remember he’d kicked the habit. Smoke-free for almost a year, yet the urge to light up refused to leave him.

“Are you getting anywhere with Bishara?” Kane asked, referring to Nassor Bishara, the third man they’d linked to the Aberdeen abduction, and whom Morgan had gone to interrogate.

“Yeah, there was a little hitch with that,” came the rueful response. “Bishara drew on me, so I put him down.”

Kane swore under his breath. “Bishara’s dead?”

“’Fraid so. I’m on my way back to Cairo now—gonna put the pressure on Nazara’s ex-girlfriend, see if she knows where he’s holed up. You and Abby keep working on Aswad. I’ll see you at the hotel tomorrow morning, sooner if the ex gives me valuable intel.”

Kane would’ve felt better if Morgan had some backup, but this gig had been so last minute that only the three of them had been able to take it on. Morgan’s other operatives were scattered around the globe on other jobs, and he couldn’t pull them out without jeopardizing their ongoing missions.

“Roger that,” Kane said. He hung up and leaned against the rusted passenger side of the Jeep, tilting his head up at the inky sky. Not a single sound wafted out of the shack. A promising sign. If Abby had been using that deadly blade of hers, no way would Aswad be able to stay quiet.

Kane tapped his fingers on the door frame, fighting the urge to go back inside and beat the information out of Aswad himself. But he had to trust Abby to get the job done. Their first few missions together, he’d driven her nuts with his overprotective caveman attitude, gluing himself to her side to ensure that nothing happened to the woman he loved. He’d wised up fast, though. Abby Sinclair was a skilled operative, and the former assassin hadn’t appreciated him going all alpha on her.

It had taken a while, but he’d finally learned how to treat her like a teammate rather than his wife. Now, when they were in the field together, he trusted her implicitly, even if it meant waiting outside like a chump while she tortured a man for intelligence.

Luckily, he didn’t have to wait long. A mere ten minutes later, Abby strode out of the shack with a rare smile tugging on her lips.

As always, the sight of her sent a rush of heat spiraling through him. She was slender but curvy, rocking a pair of tight jeans and a wafer-thin tank top, with her copper-colored hair cascading over one shoulder. Her features were beautiful and flawless, but it was her eyes that drew him in. A deep honey-yellow, the unique color never failing to take his breath away.

He cocked a brow at her approach, noting the trace of crimson staining the serrated edge of her knife. “Is he alive?”

She nodded. “I barely nicked him before he caved like a cheap tent. But he doesn’t know where Nazara’s holding the kid.”

“You certain of that?”

“Yeah. Nazara kept Aswad and Bishara in the dark about the location, just in case they ever got captured by the police. Aswad gave me a list of safe houses Nazara has used in the past. Oh, and some names of former associates who have stashed hostages for Nazara before.”

“Good work, soldier.” Kane dipped his head and smacked a loud kiss on her lips.

Abby rolled her eyes. “Did you kiss your teammates like that when you were a SEAL?”

“Nope. You’re special.”

“What about our teammates now? Do you kiss D after he finds you a useful lead?”

“Not unless I feel like getting kicked in the balls.” Kane laughed as he envisioned the look that’d grace Derek Pratt’s menacing face if he ever tried to kiss the surly bastard. “Like I said, you’re special. Deal with it.”

He could see her lips twitching, and disappointment rippled over him when she didn’t release her laughter. After three years of marriage, Abby had become a lot quicker to laugh than when they’d first met, but that didn’t mean she’d transformed into a bubbly, easygoing woman who voiced her mirth at the drop of a hat. The cold, detached operative he’d once rescued from a Colombian prison still made frequent appearances.

Despite her aloof tendencies, he was madly in love with her and knew she felt the same way about him.

“Call our guy on the task force and tell him to pick up Aswad,” Abby said, all business again. “Unless we have the green light to eliminate him?”

“Negative. The Feds want him behind bars, not six feet under.” He reached for his phone. “Go and keep watch. I’ll arrange for the pickup.”

“Are we rendezvousing with Morgan tonight?”

Kane shook his head. “He’s chasing down Nazara’s ex, so we probably won’t see him until tomorrow morning.” His lips curved. “It’s just you and me tonight.”

She offered another nod. “Let me guess—you want us to go over Nazara’s bank statements again?”

“Nope.”

Abby must have glimpsed the heat in his eyes, because a knowing smirk lifted her lips. “It was the knife, huh?”

“Hell yeah. You know how hot I get when I see you wielding a blade.” He couldn’t resist leaning in and pressing his mouth to hers again, but he kept it brief, pulling back to clap his hands together. “All right. Go inside while I make this call. The sooner Aswad is in handcuffs, the sooner I can have you back at the hotel. Naked.”

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