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Authors: Kate SeRine

BOOK: Deceived
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“But—”
The look she sent the boy's way cut him off in an instant. Eli huffed again and settled back against his seat.
“So where are we going next?” he piped up after a few long moments of charged silence.
“My house,” Luke told him. “You'll be safe there. But I don't want you saying anything to anyone about what happened at the festival, okay, Eli?”
Eli shrugged. “Sure. Okay.”
“In fact,” Luke continued, “if anyone asks, I need you to tell them you guys are Sarah and Eli Randall. Sarah's my girlfriend—”
“I knew it!” Eli cut in.
“It's just a cover story, Eli,” Sarah stressed, her tone clipped. “We're only staying until Mr. Rogan is allowed to take us back home.”
“When will that be?” Eli asked. “Who
was
that guy at the festival? Why did he want to hurt us?”
Luke glanced Sarah's way, willing to let her take the lead on how much she wanted to tell her son.
“We're still trying to figure that out, pumpkin,” she said. “But Mr. Rogan is going to make sure we're safe until then.”
Eli pressed his lips together and squared his shoulders in the way Luke had seen Sarah do earlier. The boy was more like his mother than he probably realized. “So are we going straight to your house?” he asked. “Are we almost there? How much farther do we need to go?”
Luke glanced up in the mirror again and caught the kid's dark gaze, his eyes wide with anticipation. “We're still a few hours away. And we're going shopping first.”
Eli pulled a face. “Shopping? Oh,
man
. . . I
hate
shopping.”
“I totally feel ya, buddy,” Luke agreed. “But you're going to need a few things before we get where we're headed.”
“Like what?” Eli pressed.
“Well,” Luke said, “at this time of year, odds are good you're going to need some snow boots. . . .”
Chapter Seven
Jacob Stone took his seat in the café where he was supposed to meet his contact. He was early. He always made sure he arrived well in advance of any meeting so he could scope out the area first and assess any potential threats—old habits and all that.
He was enjoying his
café cubano
, appreciating the extra caffeine after his rather rigorous dalliance with Ms. Holt, when a man in light linen slacks and pale blue cotton shirt sauntered toward him. The guy sported the kind of tan one would get spending a life of leisure on a private yacht and the swagger of someone who knew he was the one in control, regardless of the situation.
Stone smiled and raised his coffee cup in salute, but stayed seated. He knew how to play this game, too.
“You need to get out in the sun more, Stone,” the guy said as he took the seat across from him. “You're pale.”
Stone downed his coffee and signaled to the server. “I like to spend my time in the boardroom—or the bedroom—these days, Evans. I don't miss sweating my ass off to further someone else's agenda.”
“But you clearly have no qualms about asking someone else to further
yours
,” Evans drawled with a smirk. He didn't even glance toward the pretty senorita who appeared at his elbow, merely held up two fingers.
As she scurried away to get their drinks, Stone mirrored his companion's nonchalance. “Favorite spot of yours?”
Evans lifted a shoulder. “I like the service.”
Stone could imagine. If he didn't have Ms. Holt waiting in their hotel room for him, he would've brought back one of these tasty pieces of ass to enjoy during his stay. Hell, he still might. “Care to make a trip home?”
“I'm open to a visit,” Evans replied. “For the right reason. There are people there who'd prefer I stayed gone.”
A tall glass filled with rum and Tropi-Cola appeared in front of Evans with hardly a sound, and another was placed before Stone along with his coffee before the server slipped away. Apparently, Evans's friend knew how to be discreet during his meetings. “Well, I have about five million reasons that I'd be willing to share with you. Would that be sufficient?”
Evans inclined his head in a slight nod. “I suppose. When?”
“Things are a little . . . delicate at the moment,” Stone said. “Everyone is on guard. Give it a few days to settle down.”
“And is there a particular window of opportunity for this visit?” Evans asked.
Stone toyed with his drink. That was, indeed, the question. Will was already moving assets. All cash and investments would've been shifted within hours. The Alliance was nothing if not prepared. But the non-liquid assets would take longer, the logistics in place but requiring careful execution for the purposes of concealment. If his timing was off, if he waited too long before making another move, whatever information Eli Scoffield possessed would no longer be useful.
Blake would've most likely passed along only the shell of a contingency plan. Only the Grand Council and the commander placed in charge of relocating assets would know the final destinations. And there was no way in hell he was making a move on Will. Not yet.
“Three weeks,” Stone finally answered. “Maybe less.”
“Where will I be visiting?” Evans asked.
This made Stone squirm a bit. “That's the other problem. I'm not entirely sure.”
Evans's smirk grew. “You want me to make a visit, but you don't know to
where?

Stone forced a smile, wishing he didn't need the smug son of a bitch for the job when he would've preferred to throat-punch him for being such a condescending prick. “I'll supply the information to you when you arrive in the United States.”
“And who will be eagerly awaiting my arrival?” Evans asked.
Now it was Stone's turn to be smug. “The grandson of your old friend Hal Blake.”
Evans paled behind his tan before his face flushed with barely restrained fury. “You should've led with that.”
Stone's lips curved into a grin. “I was saving the best for last. I need the boy brought to me. He has certain information that I would like to retrieve.”
Evans's jaw tightened. “Who's he with?”
Stone shrugged. “His mother. And a newer member of the Alliance—no one you know, so no chance of your being recognized if your paths cross before the extraction. He was recruited after you left.”
“To fill my place, you mean,” Evans spat, his cool demeanor slipping.
“Sure,” Stone told him. “If that's the way you want to see it.”
“What's his name?” Evans pressed. “Apparently, I'm going to need to do my homework to track them down.”
Stone took another sip of his drink before answering. “Name's Luke Rogan.”
Evans laughed in a harsh burst. “Are you shitting me?”
Stone eyed him askance. “So you
do
know him?”
“Only by reputation,” Evans told him. “But that's enough.”
“Do what you need to do,” Stone said, growing tired of Evans's games. “Rogan's of no concern to me.”
“Well, he's a concern to me,” Evans shot back. “Rogan was Special Forces, so he's already not someone you want to dick around with. But I heard about him from some of my less . . .
savory
acquaintances. Rogan was one of the guys the government used on the kind of ops they don't like to admit to in polite company. I imagine that's how he came to the attention of our fine friends in the Alliance.”
Stone eyed him evenly. “Are you telling me you're afraid to take on this Rogan?”
Evans didn't flinch. “I'm saying I'm not eager to get myself killed. And Rogan won't think twice. I'm going to have to get the drop on him first.”
Stone sighed. “Fine. I'll add an additional five million reasons for you to take the job. But the boy is to be unharmed.”
Evans gave him a terse nod. “Understood.” He raised his glass to Stone and offered him a tight smile. “Who says you can't go home again?”
* * *
Will Asher strode down the deserted hallway of the private floor of the hospital, flanked by two of his men, Chase Nielsen and Ian Cooper. He'd been told that Hal's security guards had insisted on accompanying their charge when he was transported to Chicago, but there was no way in hell he was trusting them to guard Hal until he'd had a very long, unpleasant conversation with each of them to determine what role they'd played—if any—in the assassination attempt. He'd pulled both Chase and Ian in from other ops, their backgrounds as a Secret Service agent and as a U.S. Marshal, respectively, making them two of the best choices for the security detail.
The two Templars currently stationed outside of Hal's room looked up when they saw him approaching and dropped their gazes, knowing they were in the shit.
“You're relieved of duty,” he said, his tone clipped. “But don't plan on going anywhere. Your commander has offered his full cooperation in this investigation. In fact, Rich and I are old friends, so he's more than willing to join me if you don't feel moved to open up to me.”
Both of them cursed under their breath. Will's men might think he was a hard-ass with a heart of stone, but Rich's men
knew
he was. The guy had a reputation for shooting first and asking questions later, which often put him on the Grand Council's shit list. But he was effective. And his men knew better than to fuck up without a damned good reason. Will was seriously considering whether he should take a page from his fellow commander's playbook. Maybe if he'd been more of an asshole, they wouldn't be in the fucking mess they were in now....
On that cheery thought, Will pushed open the hospital door and went in, trying to hide his shock when he saw Hal lying in the bed. He felt his chest go tight with emotion at seeing his old friend so helpless.
To cover his reaction, he turned to Jack and the woman he assumed was Maddie Blake. He hadn't seen Maddie since she was in pigtails. He'd heard a lot about her and her sister over the years from conversations with Hal—and, later, with Jack. In fact, he knew a hell of a lot more about Maddie Blake than she'd probably be comfortable with him knowing. Like how she'd stolen the heart of his friend and how Jack had once planned to propose to her before everything had gone to shit . . .
Jack came toward him, offering his hand. “Commander.”
“Commander?” Will scoffed as he shook his hand. “
Now
you suddenly give a shit about protocol, Jack? You might've given that some thought before you conned your partner into going along with your bullshit. You could both be de-cloaked if I can't clean up this mess.”
“Luke or Jack aren't to blame,” Maddie insisted from where she sat near her father's bedside. “This is on me, Commander Asher. My father was only trying to help me with a situation—”
“And you thought you'd call on the Alliance?” Will interrupted. “We're not in the business of settling scores, Ms. Blake. I know your father brought you into his confidence a few years ago, so you know how we work. We guide. We advise. We protect. We try to mitigate the damage done by all the assholes in this world who are doing their damnedest to fuck things up. From what I understand, this man who was killed—Jonas Richter—was one of these assholes by virtue of selling secrets to hostile nations. That fact might end up being the only thing that saves Jack's neck.”
“Back off, Will,” Jack growled. “I could've said no. I could've refused to help Hal or Maddie when I got the call.”
“Really?” Will fired back. “You could've, Jack? Do we want to go there right now?”
Maddie stepped forward, to put herself between Will and Jack, lifting her chin defiantly and pegging Will with a look that was a damned good imitation of one Will had seen her father use against adversaries back in the day when he was a field operative.
“I will accept whatever consequences there are for what's happened,” she told him. “But my father was only doing what he thought was best for me. So was Jack.”
Will bent slightly, not about to back down until he was damned good and ready. “You have no idea what you've set in motion, Ms. Blake. Your actions might be the catalyst that destroys the Alliance. What exactly are you prepared to do to make amends for
that?

“Whatever it takes,” she said without hesitation. “Put me in play. You have no women among your ranks. Bring me in and I'll prove I'm not the selfish bitch I know you think I am—I can see it in your eyes when you look at me, so don't try to deny it. But I could be a tremendous asset to the Order, Commander. Just give me a chance.”
“Maddie, love,” Jack said softly. “You have no idea what we give up when—”
She cut him off with a pointed look. “Yes, Jack, I do,” she snapped. “I know
exactly
what you give up when you join the Alliance.” She then turned her attention back to Will. “Give me an opportunity to continue my father's legacy of service to the Alliance—as you continue your father's.”
Will drew back at this. “You don't know a damned thing about my father.”
Her expression softened with sympathy. “I know enough.” When Will sent a furious look Jack's way, she quickly added, “My father told me about it once after he'd had a call from the high commander. I know that your father believed the Illuminati had formed again, that they were maneuvering for a power play, that they were intent on controlling the world instead of trying to help it. And I know he died trying to prove it.”
Will regarded her for a long moment, considering her proposal. She was correct that they didn't have any female operatives. He'd long suggested that it was to the Alliance's detriment that they didn't. But the old guard in the Grand Council was so entrenched in tradition that they were always looking back instead of forward—except when it suited them.
“It's not my call,” Will told her. “I can take you on as an initiate, but the Grand Council has the final say.”
“That's a start,” Maddie said. “I want to get started as soon as my father recovers.”
Will traded a glance with Jack, silently asking just how likely that was, but Jack dropped his gaze, either unable to answer or unwilling to face the truth.
“I've stationed two of my own outside,” Will told her, changing the subject. “I'm taking your father's detail back to headquarters to find out if they were involved at all in the attempt on his life.”
“They weren't,” Maddie insisted. “I know they weren't. They're good men.”
“You're welcome to return with us,” Will said. “It'd be more comfortable for you at the compound. I promise your father is in safe hands.”
She shook her head. “I'm not leaving him. He needs to know I'm here. I'll just wait until my sister arrives.”
“There's been a change of plans,” Will told her. “Luke's taking your sister and nephew to his haven.”
Her brows came together in confusion. “What? Why?”
“What's happened?” Jack demanded. “You know the safest place for the boy is here, where we can guard him.”
Will's gaze shifted between Jack and Maddie. “Someone attempted to abduct your nephew.”
“Oh my God!” Maddie gasped. “Is he all right? Is Sarah? When can I talk to her?”
“They're safe at the moment,” Will assured her, “but we need to keep them that way. If someone was threatening Hal leading up to the attempt on his life, they know us. They know how we operate. They'd be expecting us to bring him here.”

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