Protected by Shadows (2 page)

“Hello, Beau.” He sipped his vodka and sighed.

“Did you just get in?”

“Few hours now. Why?”

“You’re wearing a suit.”

Familiar words. His brothers were always on him about the fact he wore suits so often. “Nothing wrong with wearing one.”

Slicing his gaze to the left, he took in Beau’s gray and green flannel shirt, jeans and cowboy boots. When one first met him, they tended to think hillbilly, faced with his dress and slow Southern drawl. It gave Beau the advantage—Valentino knew this man was one of the most deadly he’d ever met. Beau knew at least fifty ways to kill a person with his hands alone, and he could get very inventive with ways to hurt a person. Valentino had seen Beau in action and it wasn’t a pretty sight. However, he wasn’t scared.

They worked for the same agency, Theta Corps—a covert group who did their part to keep the world safe. Filled with ex-military, hackers and others at the top of their game, the agency was so secretive, not even his family knew what he did. They thought he was an investor who traveled a lot when in truth, he was more like 007.

“How’re ya doing?”

He finished his vodka and waved for a refill. “Masters send you?”

Masters was the head of Theta Corps, and he took the wellbeing of each of his men and women seriously.

“Nope.” Beau winked and grinned at a blonde who strolled by in an overly tight pair of pants and sweater. “She’s a purdy little darlin’.” His drawl came in thick, dripping like molasses.

Of course Beau thought so, he would chase anything that carried two X chromosomes. Valentino nodded his thanks for the refill. “Then what?” he asked carrying on the previous conversation.

Beau gave a frustrated sigh. “Wanted to check on you, man. We used to be friends.” Green eyes pierced him. “Remember what those are? You hang out occasionally, have a few drinks and laughs. No? I can see why. Ever since—”

“Don’t go there,” Valentino warned, fingers tightening briefly around his glass.

“Why not? Damn it, man. Don’t you miss
life
? It happened, but that’s no reason to shut everyone out.”

“Let it go.”

Beau allowed his beer to settle on the counter with more force than normal, the only clue to anyone he was irritated. “What? Gonna take a swing at me? You know I’m right, Valentino. I’m willing to risk it, if it means you’ll show some fuckin’ emotions.”

Valentino raised a brow. “You angling for a mani-pedi day together?” He locked away the unwanted memories. Firmly.

Beau gave a short grin. “Not really. I was thinking more beer and pool. Perhaps you not in a suit.” He shook his head. “I’m worried about you.”

“Don’t be. I passed my last psych eval.”

“You haven’t let her go.”

Again the memories pushed, creeping from the shadows.

“You
need
to let it go.” Valentino clenched his jaw.

“No. She was a vile bitch who—”

Bam!
Valentino slammed his hand on the bar. “Beau.” His tone was barely over a growl.

“—doesn’t deserve to run your life or dictate your happiness.”

He snarled and Beau held up his hands in apparent surrender.

“You’re not the only one who lost someone that day, Valentino, but the rest of us have carried on.”

The recollections pushed harder and he grimaced. “I’m carrying on.”

“No, you’re not. Your friends miss you. We’re here for you.”

Beau strode away and in the window’s reflection, Valentino watched him slip an arm around the blonde from earlier and escort her from the room.

Memories pounded and he knew no amount of vodka would keep them at bay. Shoving back from the bar, he grabbed his glass then drained the rest in a gulp. Then he turned to the door, tossing some bills down to cover his drinks.

It was after midnight when he knocked on a hotel door. The light poured from the crack as it framed the woman there. Lexy arched an eyebrow at him.

“It’s late.”

Her scent wafted about her, tantalizing him. He struggled to be stronger, only to give up. The moment he’d headed for her, he’d known he was weak. He put a hand on her door, shoved it open to where he could enter and kicked it closed behind him.

“And?” He went to work on his suit coat, removing it while taking in the way her little lavender cami nightie covered her.

“Nothing. Are we done with pleasantries?”

Her acerbic tongue lashed against him and he jerked her to him. “Yes.” Then he devoured her mouth with his and partook in the one thing with the ability to silence the memories.

Her.

* * * *

Somewhere deep in the Appalachian Mountains

He stared at the man who’d dared try to betray The Watchers. There was no empathy in him. The group had been carefully cultivated with an extremely clear purpose—to return the country’s misguided government to how it should be. When those serving did so at the leisure of the people. They should fear their countrymen, not be feared by them. In essence, to be in office was a privilege—those in that position should always remember it was the public who put them there, and the public should have the right to keep them in or remove them.

Rolling his toothpick between his lips, he stroked his goatee with the thumb and index finger of his left hand. Then he walked forward, the woodland ground making very little noise beneath his feet. The man who hung there had no marks on him. After one complete circle, he stared into blue eyes.

“Raymond,” he said, without a trace of any accent. “I am truly disappointed in you.” He withdrew his large Bowie knife from the sheath on his leg and used it to slice off a chunk of fresh, crisp apple.

“I’m sorry, so sorry,” Raymond babbled.

“Right, right. Of course you are. Look at me. Do I appear upset?” Another bite.

“No, sir.”

He paced as he ate the apple, mulling over his next option. None of that indecision showed on his face, however—he was confident in that with his years of experience. After two more circles around Raymond, who had his hands tied over his head, feet firmly on the ground, he stopped. Even Raymond’s eyes were full of fear, and beaded sweat gathered on his skin only to roll toward the fertile ground beneath their shoes.

“Because I’m not. This is the face of a disappointed leader. I believe you will still be useful to us and our cause. I mean, you do want to help us still, don’t you?”

“Yes. Yes! Anything, I’ll do anything.”

A sadistic grin turned up his mouth. “You have no idea how happy it makes me to hear that, Raymond.”

After a final slice of the apple, the sandy-haired man plunged his knife deep into Raymond’s chest cavity. His eyes gleamed as he rotated the blade and cut down, effectively gutting him like a pig. Raymond’s intestines spilled out, almost hitting his shoes. “You will leave them a message they will never forget.”

He wiped his knife off and returned the blade to its sheath before tossing the apple core and smoothing his hands down his linen pants.

“Take a picture of him, be sure the background is blurry enough they can’t make it out. But leave him hanging. In fact, take two. One first of his unmarked face. Just to give them a bit of hope. Follow it up with the rest, his guts spilling out to the ground. Send it to the appropriate people, for they are surely wanting to know why their snitch hasn’t checked in by now.”

The two men who’d been there, silent against some trees, stepped up to do his bidding as he continued along the narrow path he’d taken to get there. At the end sat a small house.

There were several, filling the area, since the path led to their commune. Each one blended into the terrain and would be difficult to spot from the air. They had places like this everywhere—some even in plain sight. Their time was coming. The Watchers would be celebrated and honored in stories of how the American people got their country back.

He walked to his window and peered out. Like busy worker bees, or perhaps solider ants, people scurried about. The door behind him opened and a black-haired woman with flawless porcelain skin stepped through. He took the sheet of paper she handed him before he opened it and read the words written in perfect script.

Trevor, the new recruits who passed are waiting to hear from you.

He stepped closer to her side and ran a hand down her perfect, heart-shaped face with those china-blue eyes.

“Thank you, my love.”

Her smile, so slight, frail almost. He didn’t care—he was beyond paying her any further attention and even took his gaze from her. Trevor Mansfield was mentally reviewing his welcome speech, as he always did before meeting the new recruits. It didn’t matter how many times he’d given it. It was part of his routine.

Trevor left the woman and strode out of the very door she’d entered. It was time to receive and embrace even more believers into the fold.

* * * *

Zurich

Lexy smiled and nodded as she made her way through those gathered. It wasn’t often that the attendees actually got to choose where to have their yearly meetings, but thankfully for this one they had. And Zurich had won of all the choices they’d been presented with. She dodged another person, stifling her yawn. Sleep hadn’t happened after Valentino Cassano had shown up at her door around midnight. She was pleased they’d long since passed the part of wondering if each was clean and he knew she took the shot for birth control, so condoms weren’t an issue.

The fact he’d arrived had shocked her. But then he usually showed when she didn’t figure he would.

Stepping off the elevator, she wondered if he would be gone. He wasn’t the type to hang around for cuddling the following day. She unlocked her door and had depressed the handle when someone called out, “Dr Camden.”

Glancing over her shoulder, she paused at the sight of Dr Joshua Shatten crossing the dark red and tan carpet. His brown eyes twinkled as he neared.

“Hello, Dr Shatten.”

“I saw you slip out and thought I missed you. It’s so good to see you.” He gave her a hug and kiss along her cheek. He wore dark slacks and a white button-down with the sleeves rolled up, showing his muscular forearms.

“And you. How’re things?” Lexy replied.

“We’ve actually just expanded our facilities. If you agree to dinner with me, I’d love to tell you all about it.” He grinned.

Dr Shatten had a large veterinary practice in Georgia, and she loved talking about how others ran their practices versus how she did. “Sounds great. After the last presentation, let’s grab a bite.”

“Wonderful. Save me a seat.” He strode away after another kiss on the cheek.

She gave an absent wave as she pushed into her room. Josh was a nice enough man, but—

“Lining up your next fuck before you even get rid of me?” A deep growl came from the corner.

Ignoring the erratic kick of her pulse, she released the door and waited for it to swing shut behind her. Only then did she look for him. He stood there, partially hidden by shadows. It didn’t matter, her body responded instantly and furiously.

“’N here I thought you’d be long gone.” She decided to ignore how pleased she was to find him there.

She put her key card down and sashayed over to the chair in the sun, across the room from Valentino, and sat. Idly hooking one leg over the arm, she swung it back and forth as she picked up and perused the menu. She’d not eaten at this morning’s meeting and her stomach was rebelling at her decision.

“You stayin’ for breakfast?”

“Are you fucking him?”

She sniffed and gave him a brief glance. “Not any of your business.” She flipped the menu. “Breakfast?”

Lord, this pretense was becoming more and more difficult. Acting as though she were indifferent and okay with being a booty call. Not that she minded the sex. Not at all. Valentino was an incredible lover. The problem was emotions—hers to be specific. They were growing each time she met up with him.

He pushed away from the wall he’d been leaning against. She felt the visceral reaction, stronger than usual. He’d showered, and the ends of his black hair curled against the tanned skin of his shoulders. She tightened her grip on the menu merely to keep from reaching for him.

Dark blue slacks, his only article of clothing, hung low on lean hips. She traced the white scar that stretched along his left hip visually—as she had before with her tongue. Then the one on his torso. The memory of the saltiness of his skin beneath the swipe of her tongue flooded her and she nearly moaned.

“Are. You. Fucking. Him.” The words fell from kissable, bow-shaped lips.

Her core temperature skyrocketed. Her skin burned where his gaze touched her. Swallowing back her ultra-feminine reaction to such an alpha male display, she faked a yawn.

“Got it. No breakfast for you.” She grabbed the phone and placed her order, never once taking her gaze from the scowling man before her. By the time she’d hung up, his hands rested on the arms of her chair. He’d boxed her in. Honestly, she didn’t mind. “What? Up for a quickie before you leave?”

He hadn’t yet shaved, the morning bristles darkening his sun-kissed skin.