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Authors: Jennifer Lowery

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Carlos
removed his arm from behind his back and held out his hand to her. Slowly he
opened his fist to reveal a gold necklace.

Attie’s
body went numb. She should have known he would do this to her. It was his
favorite form of punishment. He’d almost gotten it around her neck last night
but Noah had interfered and prevented it from happening. She didn’t think he
would be able to stop Carlos this time.

Terror
knotted inside her. She couldn’t wear that thing again. Her skin already
crawled in memory of having it around her neck, but the look in Carlos’s eyes
told her she had no choice.

“You
have two choices. One, you put the necklace on and accept the consequences of
your actions or two, Noah discovers just how hungry my pets are. He has nice,
large hands, don’t you agree?”

Attie
felt the muscles in Noah’s back tense and relax. Or maybe her muscles reacted
to the question. Either way, one of them was tense.

She
knew he meant it. He would allow Noah to experience the terror of having a pack
of fish feed on his flesh, but she wasn’t willing to let that happen. She
already had the blood of one agent on her hands, she wasn’t adding more. Even
if it meant wearing that damn necklace.

Quietly,
calmly, Noah said, “I won’t go down without a fight, Attie. Don’t let him
railroad you into putting on that necklace.”

“Don’t
be a hero, Kincaid,” she said. Damn him and his honorable intentions. She may
dread having that necklace on again, but not enough that she would sacrifice
the life of a fellow agent. Noah was the best agent ATCOM had; she wasn’t about
to do anything to jeopardize that.

She
took a step toward Carlos. “Tell your thugs to back off.”

Carlos
smiled with pleasure. “Bound by honor and duty. I’m proud of you, Atalanta.”

“You
have my decision. Tell them to lower their weapons.”

Carlos
issued the order and the six men lowered their weapons and moved back, but not
before two of them latched onto Noah, taking him by the arms and forcing him to
move away also.

Attie
turned in time to see them grab Noah, and saw the look in his eyes when they
did. He wasn’t happy with her decision and even less thrilled about being
handled. She recognized the dangerous glint in his eye and knew what it meant.

It
happened so fast no one saw it coming. One minute Noah was standing there,
relaxed, and the next he knocked one of the guards out cold with an uppercut to
the jaw and was moving swiftly for the next.

“No,
Kincaid! I need you with me on this.”

Noah
relaxed his hold on the man’s throat and stepped back, at ease. She knew
better. There was nothing at ease about Noah and this deceptive calm was more
dangerous than his anger.

He
met her eyes as one weapon was pointed at his chest and another at his head.
The guards holding the weapons looked wild-eyed with twitchy trigger fingers.
She didn’t blame them—seeing Noah in action wasn’t something one soon forgot.

“Attie—”

She
shook her head and held up a hand. “No, the choice was mine.”

He
stared at her a moment, his expression masked so she couldn’t read his
thoughts. Then he nodded in silent agreement, though she knew he wasn’t giving
up control. He would attack again if needed.

Confident
he would stay out of it now, she turned back to Carlos. “You win. Tell them to
back off.” She lifted her chin in a show of bravado she really didn’t feel.

Carlos
issued orders to his guards in Spanish and they relaxed, but only slightly.
Then he stepped closer to her, his dark eyes dancing with excitement. He smiled
as he slid the chain around her neck and clasped it shut. The instant the cold
metal touched her flesh it began to crawl in memory. Refusing to cringe and
tear it off took all of her willpower but she refused to allow Carlos the
satisfaction of seeing how it affected her. Her entire body went tense, muscles
waiting, remembering.

Turning
slightly away, she struggled to maintain her composure. Out of the corner of
her eye she saw Noah take a small step toward her but she held up a hand to
stop him and shook her head. The last thing she wanted was for him to come to
her rescue. If he did, she would lose what remnant of control she had left. She
couldn’t show weakness to Carlos.

“Lovely,”
Carlos murmured, tracing the necklace with a finger. Attie’s skin crawled and
the sandwich she’d eaten threatened to come back up. “Your skin is still wet.
Do you think that will—”

Attie
snapped her head up and glared at him. “Enough.”

Carlos
leaned in closer and asked softly, “Are you sure he’s worth it?”

“Go
to hell.”

“This
rebellion of yours is becoming tiresome. We’ll see how defiant you are come
morning. For now, finish your meal.”

Attie
watched them pick up the unconscious guard and file out of the room, every
nerve on edge because she knew this was the worst part of wearing the
godforsaken necklace. Carlos now wielded his power over her. She swallowed the
fear and looked at Noah, seeing the curiosity in his eyes, and this time she
welcomed the fact she wasn’t alone.

The
door slid closed, leaving them alone. Attie took a deep breath and placed her
hands on her hips. The last thing she wanted was food—

A
jolt suddenly shot through her. It started at her head and ended at her toes.
Carlos wasn’t playing around. There was no warning, no series of jolts like he
usually preferred to give. No, this time he was making a point and leaving no
room for doubt. He was in control and she better well remember it.

Her
muscles went into spasms that brought her to her knees. She couldn’t speak,
couldn’t move. She lost all control of her muscles and it hurt like hell. This
was what she remembered. What she’d known was coming whenever Carlos felt the
urge.

This
was what she feared.

* * * *

The
team of ATCOM agents moved silently and steadily up the mountain, expressions
grim. They had Noah and Attie’s last coordinates and they weren’t far away but
there wasn’t any sign of them. The rain had washed away any trace they may have
left behind.

The
agents tracking them were good; they would find them. Without technology. They
were forced to rely on their training.

“Someone
was here,” Gabe said, scanning the area around him from where he crouched near
a clearing. A cigarette butt lay on the ground next to his boot.

Rogan
approached and looked over his shoulder. “One of Santiago’s men?”

“Probably.”

“Means
they were followed. Why would he have them followed instead of captured?”

Colin,
who brought up the rear, approached silently. For a big man he moved with
incredible stealth. “Bloody games,” he said. “Santiago is playing with them.”

“Or
else he was expecting a team,” Gabe murmured, his eyes landing on Kyle,
standing on the edge of the clearing, staring into the distance.

“Makes
sense. He discovered Attie’s true identity.” Rogan scowled, shifting his pack.
The fact Santiago had breached his encrypted files and found out who Attie was
still rankled. He took his security very seriously.

“How
the bloody hell did he manage that?” Colin scowled.

Rogan
shrugged. He’d been wondering the same thing. He went to extreme measures to
protect the organization. Getting the truth hadn’t been easy and he still
didn’t know how Santiago had done it. He would find out, though. He wouldn’t
rest until he did. If Santiago could break through, any terrorist could. That
was unacceptable. He had family and fellow agents to protect.

It
was his job.

“Doesn’t
matter right now,” Gabe said, rising to his feet. “We’re on the right track so
let’s concentrate on that. How close are we to their last location?”

“Five
clicks northeast.”

Colin
dropped down to one knee and ran his hand over the ground, face tight with
concentration. “Four of them. Traveling light.”

The
team believed Colin had been a Scottish warrior in another life. Not only
because of his looks, but because of his tracking ability. He could read the
ground like a book. By a simple touch he could tell them things no amount of
training could teach them. A mysterious skill they all envied but never
questioned. Colin couldn’t explain it and they didn’t try. He claimed it had to
do with Scottish roots that dated back to the thirteenth century.

“Only
four against a team of ATCOM agents?” Rogan asked, scratching his head. “Doesn’t
make sense.”

“Maybe
Santiago doesn’t see us as a focking threat,” Colin scowled.

Gabe
was inclined to agree with Colin, but the pieces weren’t adding up. He didn’t
like not knowing Santiago’s location, what his frame of mind was, and what he
had planned for Noah and Attie.

They
were going in blind, but it was all they had and it wouldn’t stop them from
completing their mission. They would bring all three of them home safely.

All
they had to do was find them.

 

 

Chapter
14

 

“What
the hell?”

Noah
flew to Attie’s side and knelt beside her convulsing body, staring in stunned,
helpless silence as her body bowed in pain. He didn’t touch her, unsure what to
do, so he sat there, helpless. Attie’s body jerked and quaked and his temper
rose along with fear for Attie like he’d never experienced. What the hell was
happening to her?

Goddammit.

Rising
to his feet he stared into the camera in the corner. “Enough.”

Attie
went still and slumped where she sat, head lowered, breath coming in shallow
gasps. Noah returned to her side, anger raging through him.

Santiago
had put a shock collar on her! What the hell kind of person did that? Was this
what she’d had to endure all those months on his estate? No wonder the necklace
sent her into a panic. He’d be freaking out too.

“You
had your fun, now take it off her,” Noah said, his voice soft but edged with
steel. Fury burned inside him. He kept it carefully buried for Attie’s sake. He
wouldn’t cause her any more pain than she’d already been through. Never in his
life had he been involved in anything like this and it was wearing down his
patience. Attie had been right. He didn’t like not being in control. Or knowing
that Santiago could issue a shock to Attie whenever he chose, or that he was
helpless to prevent it.

“Two
minutes. You and me. Alone,” he said to the camera.

“No,”
Attie choked out behind him. Her voice was hoarse and barely more than a
whisper. “He doesn’t play…fair. He’ll kill you.”

Noah
turned to see Attie forcing herself to stand. She stumbled sideways a couple
steps before steadying herself, and waved off his help. He knew she needed to
do this on her own to prove to Santiago that he hadn’t gotten the best of her,
so he stood near her without touching. He wanted to. He wanted to rub and
massage the ache in her muscles until she was limp and relaxed. He wanted to
destroy that damn necklace. Fuck. He wanted to destroy Santiago.

Now
he understood her fear when she’d first seen it. How long had she worn it when
she was undercover? What kind of sick bastard made a necklace into a shock
collar and forced his girlfriend to wear it? Noah had seen a lot of things in
his career, but never anything like this. What the hell else had she endured?

Anger
and regret washed through him like a tidal wave. He never should have let her go
in. He should have waited for another opportunity to get an agent inside, and
kept her out. Hell, he should have waited for Jericho West. With his undercover
experience, that man could have withstood anything Santiago threw at him. Any
man that could infiltrate gang after deadly gang and walk out with nothing but
a few tattoos, a few scars and some razor sharp edges was strong enough to go
up against Santiago.

But
West hadn’t been with ATCOM a year ago. He’d been recruited eight months ago
and was still in training. In truth, the man concerned Noah. He was a wildcard
with a shady background and even shadier career. It was rumored he had a death
wish, and that was why he could go deep and stay deep. It was also rumored that
he had no morals and would do whatever necessary to protect his cover. Noah
didn’t judge the man, but he was keeping a close eye on him. A renegade agent
had no place in ATCOM. Still, he would have fared better than Attie had.

What
had they been thinking by sending a woman in? That she was a woman made her
more vulnerable than a man, despite what she thought. There were more ways for
Santiago to hurt a woman than a man.

Attie
choked on a sob and spun around, but not before he saw the torment on her face.
She reached up and began clawing at the necklace. Santiago forgotten, Noah
moved to her side.

“Attie,
let me.”

“No!
Get away from me. I don’t need your help.”

Noah
stopped, hating seeing her like this and hating Carlos Santiago even more.

Attie
searched frantically for the clasp to remove the necklace, tugging and pulling
on it until her neck turned red. She swallowed hard and let out a string of
curses that bordered on hysteria. The weight that hung around her neck was
choking her with fear.

He
couldn’t stand there and watch. He stepped forward and gripped her shoulders,
turning her around to face him. Her eyes were wide and churned with emotion.

Panic
mounting, she tried to pull away at the same time she clawed at the chain. She
struggled for control, fighting memories and ghosts that had been brought back
to the present. He wanted to erase it all, but knew he couldn’t.

“There’s
no frigging clasp,” she shouted, her hands still tugging and pulling. The skin
beneath the chain was starting to chafe.

Silently
he clasped both her hands in his and forced them to her sides, holding them
there. “Look at me,” he ordered softly.

She
bucked against his grip.

“Attie.”

He
saw her fighting a losing battle and knew she was close to losing it, so he
held her fisted hands in his and waited. Finally the dam broke and she slumped
against him, her head falling forward and landing on his chest. Her chest
heaved as Noah slowly let go of her hands and wrapped his arms around her to
hold her close. She didn’t cry, but she shook like a leaf against him, her arms
finding their way around his waist and holding on tight.

“I
can’t do this again,” she murmured against his shirt, quietly so that no one
else heard. “I have to get it off.”

“It
went on, it’ll come off. You have to relax and let me try.”

“I
have to get it off,” she said again, her voice rising.

He
tightened his arms around her. “I know. We will.”

“I
mean it. Right now.”

Understanding
her urgency, Noah released his hold and held her away from him. “Hold still,”
he said and reached for the necklace.

* * * *

Attie
fisted her hands at her sides and forced herself to stand still as Noah eased
his fingers beneath the necklace. His knuckles brushed the sensitive skin of
her neck and her heart beat faster. He moved his hand along the length of the
chain, searching for the clasp she knew he wasn’t going to find.

She
had tried more times than she could count to remove the thing from her neck
when she’d worn it the first time, but never found a clasp. Carlos was smarter
than that. He made it impossible to remove by anyone but him. There was a trick
to it, but she had never figured it out.

Noah’s
knuckles brushed lightly over the hollow in her throat where her pulse beat
wildly. He paused, his eyes meeting hers. She frowned as a slow grin spread
across his face. Then she realized where his hand rested and scowled.

“Not
so immune, Devayne,” he murmured.

Her
temper flared as she suspected was his purpose. She darkened her scowl. “Yes, I
am,” she snapped, looking away. “Keep searching.”

“My
pleasure,” he drawled, resuming his search and turning her into a bundle of
nerves. The sensation of his fingers feathering over her skin was more than she
cared to admit to enjoying. His touch was tender and light and made her forget
the panic the necklace had elicited. It made her forget that at any moment
Carlos could press a button and send her into convulsions.

“Anything?”
she asked, her patience wearing thin.

“Not
yet.”

He
continued along the other side, switching hands and positions. When he neared
the scar below her ear, she pulled away. He caught the back of her neck with
his other hand, preventing her from moving more than a centimeter away.

“I’ve
seen the scars,” he said gently, startling her when he traced the scar with the
tip of his finger.

Not
all of them
, she wanted to say, but she remained
silent. He would never see the rest. Not if she could help it.

Then
again, this was The Rock. Nothing got to him and it was annoying as hell. Or
maybe she was jealous because everything seemed to get to her.

The
last thing she wanted to do was explain where she’d gotten the marks on her
body and why. They were numerous and unsightly and better left hidden. Noah
knew where they’d come from, most of them anyway, because he knew about her
torture and he’d seen the damage done to her. Yet here he was touching the scar
as if it were a beauty mark. It confused and irritated her.

“Stop
it, Kincaid.”

“Yes,
ma’am.”

She
glared at him. He knew she hated it when he called her that.

“Knock
it off.”

He
sent her an innocent look as his fingers resumed their caress. “What?”

“You
know what. Quit ruffling my feathers.”

“But
they’re so easily ruffled.”

“Yeah,
well you certainly have a way of—ouch.” A jolt of electricity shot through the
necklace, burning against her chafed skin. It was quick and weak, but enough to
get their attention.

Noah
frowned down at her. “What the hell was that?”

“Guess
Carlos doesn’t like you trying to remove his toy.”

“Too
bad. So that’s what it feels like?”

“That
was a small one.”

“A
warning.”

Attie
nodded. “You felt it?”

“Yeah,
annoying as hell.”

His
reply caused an unexpected surge of emotion she hadn’t felt in a very long
time.

The
corners of her mouth lifted slightly in what was as close to a smile as she’d
gotten in over a year. Maybe because he was there to share her pain, or maybe
it was his gruff answer, but it eased some of her tension.

Noah
glanced at her and paused. The corner of his mouth tilted. “You okay?”

Attie
nodded, not trusting herself to speak. The smile disappeared off her lips but
its effect was still there.

Noah
wisely resumed his search. “There’s no visible clasp,” he said, moments later.
“And I can’t feel anything.”

“I
figured as much. I’m stuck wearing it until Carlos takes it off.”

“I’m
not through yet.”

“It’s
rigged. It’ll probably detonate if it’s removed by anyone besides Carlos.”

“Lift
your chin.”

Dog
with a bone. With a sigh, Attie looked at the ceiling. Noah leaned dangerously
close, his wet hair teasing her chin as he lifted the necklace off her neck and
twisted it so he could inspect the underside.

“I’ll
be damned,” he muttered, his breath warm on her skin.

“What?”

“It
looks like there’s some kind of coded lock. There are three bumps here. Some
kind of high tech lock. The correct sequence should open it.”

“Where’s
St. Klare when you need him?”

Rogan
St. Klare would have had it off in a jiffy using one of his high tech gadgets
that only he knew how to use.

“Three
bumps?”

“Yeah.
Virtually invisible.”

“There
could be thousands of combinations. We’ll never get through all of them.”

“Try
the most logical ones first. Numbers important to Santiago.”

She
was getting a kink in her neck. Noah slid the necklace around so the lock was
resting to the side and she could lower her head. She racked her brain for
significant numbers.

“Try
one-two-one.”

“What’s
that?”

“My
room number on Carlos’s estate.”

Noah
lifted his head as she lowered hers and their eyes met.

“Your
room number?” he repeated.

“Yeah,
Carlos had his entire guest suites numbered. He didn’t want a mistake in
sleeping arrangements.”

Noah
raised a brow.

“No
musical beds.”

“Ah.”

“Come
on, try it,” she urged.

Noah
bent over and was about to try the code when Carlos’s voice filled the room.

“You
must eat now. I won’t give you another chance. Noah, you are wasting your time.
You will never find the code to unlock the necklace.”

The
warning was followed by a series of shocks that snapped Attie’s head back. Noah
cursed and wrapped his hands around the necklace so that he absorbed most of
the shock. A muscle clenched in his jaw.

Reaching
up, she curled both hands around his forearms, trying to loosen his grip, but
he wasn’t to be deterred. The misery ended before she could do anything more.

Gasping,
she squeezed his arms and said, “Don’t do that again.”

“Do
what?”

“Protect
me.”

Using
the necklace, he pulled her in closer and dipped his head. “I like protecting
you.”

Caught
off guard by the admission, Attie opened her mouth to speak, then snapped it
shut. He liked protecting her? What did that mean? And since when did she need
protecting? He’d never felt a need before. Before South America, that is.

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