On the Way Home (23 page)
Gratitude pierced my growing worry. The biggest opportunity of my career, of
any
career with the Bureau, and here he was giving me a choice. I wouldn’t let him down. I wouldn’t let myself down. “No, sir. Happy to be here.”
He nodded, granting me a rare look of approval. “Be careful.” He glanced back at Hennessy. “And watch out for him, will you? He doesn’t realize he’s getting old.”
I suppressed the laugh that wanted to escape and managed a quick nod. Clearly there was some competitiveness between them. That was common enough around here. And I could see why he felt threatened by this man. Anyone would.
Hennessy cut a striking form against the window’s glow, but the silver streaking his honey-brown hair at his temples proved he was older than me. Much older, in both years and experience. Despite the obvious differences between my new partner and me, it felt good to be part of the club. A sense of contentment and happiness swelled inside me. However it had come about, this gig would lift me out of the professional gutter in a way that coffee runs and paper filing had never done.
The door closed me in with an audible click. My walk across the carpet, however, didn’t make a sound. Years of rigorous training, both inside the academy and out, had left me as agile as any practiced field agent. Still, I felt sure he tracked my every movement, effortlessly, with the kind of awareness born of experience. How long had he been an agent? Ten years, twenty? Criminals had shot at him, tried to blow him up, paid money to assassinate him. Any agent with a resume like his would have been a target. His survival gave testament to his skill.
Eyes the color of sheet metal stared at the window, unseeing. Small imperfections marred a handsome face: a slight curve of his nose where it had broken, a small scar on his chin. A line of white scar tissue split a brown eyebrow. He’d done more than evade these criminals; he’d fought them.
“You should’ve taken him up on his offer,” he said quietly.
Brody, he meant. Had he heard the low conversation we’d exchanged? Or did he just deduce what was being said? It didn’t matter.
“I’m not interested in his offer. I want this case.”
“You have no idea what this case is even about, rookie.”
Questions sat on the tip of my tongue.
So what’s the case about, then? When can we get started?
But only one came out.
“What happened to the last guy?”
That finally got his full attention. He looked at me, and I felt the gaze of his gunmetal eyes like a blow. It stole my breath and rendered me speechless. He looked me up and down. His mouth set in a flat line, unimpressed by my gender, my youth, or maybe the pink blouse I wore. Whatever he saw, it made him answer.
“He died. The last time I went after Carlos Laguardia, my partner died. A punk kid who thought he could bring down a monster.”
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About the Author
Skye Warren is the New York Times and USA Today Bestselling author of dark romantic fiction. Her books are raw, sexual and perversely romantic.
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Other Books by Skye Warren
Dark Erotica Series
The Beauty Series
Fem Dom Series
Dystopia Series
ISBN: 9781940518107
ON THE WAY HOME
Copyright © 2013 by Skye Warren
Cover design by Book Beautiful
All rights reserved. Except for use in a review, the reproduction or use of this work in any part is forbidden without the express written permission of the author.
This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events or locales is entirely coincidental. The author does not condone sexual acts without consent.
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