Into the Mist (5 page)

Tyana raised an eyebrow in surprise. Burkett rarely got involved in their jobs. Though if he'd recommended a client, she could understand why Jonah was at least entertaining the offer.

“Be on guard,” he said as they neared the house. “I don't like that Jonah let them come here. Our location has always been a secret.” He turned to look at her. “Are you packing?”

She shook her head. She'd left her gun in her room while she'd gone jogging.

He reached into his jacket and pulled out a Glock. She nearly chuckled. He likely had two more guns and at least three knives stashed on his big body. Knives were his specialty. There didn't exist a way he couldn't defend himself with a blade.

He pressed the cool metal into her hand. Then he shrugged out of his jacket and draped it over her shoulders. “Come on. Jonah's waiting.”

“And D?” she asked.

Mad Dog shook his head. “He's still sleeping. I gave him another injection early this morning. He's fighting…” He let his voice trail off as they entered the house.

“His body is fighting the injections,” she said softly.

“Yeah, something like that. I've called Marcus to come out and take another look at him.”

“He can't last much longer like this and you know it,” Tyana said fiercely. “You know Eli Chance is our best hope right now. We need to go after him.”

“If you hope to sway me against Jonah, it isn't going to happen. In this we're united. Call us overprotective older brothers, but we're not going to sacrifice our baby sister for our baby brother. It don't work like that. We'll find a way to help D. One that doesn't involve you getting yourself killed.”

Tyana ground her teeth but didn't argue. When Jonah and Mad Dog made up their minds about something, there wasn't anything she could do to sway them.

She pushed her arms into the sleeves of Mad Dog's jacket and shoved the gun into the inside pocket as they headed down the hall to the meeting room. They stepped in to see Jonah standing behind his desk, arms crossed, a serious expression creasing his face.

“What's going on?” Tyana asked as she dropped into a chair in front of the desk.

“We've got company,” Jonah said grimly.

She lifted one brow. “You let them come here?”

He returned her gaze. “I had our pilot pick them up. He flew a flight pattern that would have
you
confused about where you were going. And I made damn sure members of our security team frisked them for any GPS equipment. I think we're just fine.”

She winced at his rebuke. He didn't like that she'd questioned his judgment, and in his defense, it certainly wasn't something she normally did.

“I'm sorry,” she began. She was interrupted when the intercom beeped. Jonah leaned forward, pressing the button on his desk.

“Yeah.”

“They're here. We're coming up.”

Tyana recognized the voice as their head of security. Jonah employed a dozen men to maintain the tight security net around their island. In short, no one got on or off the island without Jonah's permission.

“
Who's
here, Jonah?” she asked.

“Someone about a job,” he said shortly. “Burkett called and asked as a special favor for us to entertain what the man has to say.”

She frowned. Burkett never asked for favors.

A few moments later, a knock sounded at the door.

“Come,” Jonah called.

The door opened and Henderson, their chief of security, entered. Behind him walked a man in an expensive business suit. Smarmy was the first word that came to Tyana's mind. But then a lot of their clients weren't exactly the upper crust of humanity.

He was flanked by what looked to be two personal bodyguards who were in turn surrounded by members of FMG's security detail.

“Burkett said you were interested in hiring our services,” Jonah said abruptly. But then he'd never been one for formalities or beating around the bush. He seemed on edge, and Tyana knew he wasn't keen on having clients on their home turf. Must be one hell of a favor he owed Burkett to allow people on their island.

The man pulled his sunglasses off, a flashy move that didn't impress Tyana. His gaze flickered around the room until it settled on Tyana, making her shift uncomfortably beneath his scrutiny.

Mad Dog moved closer to her and slid his hand over her shoulder.

“I was under the impression there were four of you,” the man said mildly.

Jonah scowled. “You're wasting my time. Either outline the job you want to hire us for, or leave.”

The man raised an eyebrow but smiled, flashing straight white teeth. “Very well.”

He reached inside his suit jacket and withdrew a folder. He flipped it onto Jonah's desk. “We'd like you to deliver these three men. One of them we want alive. It's imperative that he isn't harmed, merely immobilized. If you deliver, we'll be content to let you name your price.”

Tyana raised her eyebrow in surprise. Money clearly wasn't an object, but she sensed desperation in the man's tone. Whoever the men were he wanted them to find, they must be bad news.

Jonah opened the folder, glancing over the contents before passing it over to Mad Dog. Tyana leaned forward to peer over Mad Dog's shoulder, her curiosity piqued. She sucked in her breath when she saw the photos. She recognized two of the men immediately as part of the team that had hired D, and the third… She was on intimate terms with the third, also a member of that same team. Eli Chance.

“Why do you want them?” she spoke up.

The man turned glittering eyes on her. The corners of his mouth quirked upward in a fake smile. “You needn't concern yourself with my use for them. All I need from you is their delivery. Eli Chance alive. The other two…” He shrugged. “Dead or alive. Doesn't really matter.”

“No,” Jonah broke in.

The man turned in surprise back to Jonah. “No?”

“That's what I said,” Jonah said evenly. He snapped his fingers at Mad Dog and held out his hand for the folder. When Mad Dog handed it over, Jonah shoved it toward the man. “We have no interest in taking the job.”

Tyana leaned forward. “Jonah—”

He held out a hand to silence her, his expression black. He turned back to the man. “I'm sorry you've wasted your time, but we don't have any interest in this assignment.”

The man studied Jonah for a long moment before turning his gaze to Tyana. Then he shrugged and turned away. “Let's go,” he said.

Tyana watched him leave, a sense of frustration beating against her temple. As soon as the man had disappeared from view, she rounded on Jonah.

Before she could spit out a single word, he held up his hand. “There won't be any arguments, Ty. Not over this. At the moment I don't even want to ponder the coincidence of this man appearing from nowhere asking us to deliver Eli Chance on a silver platter.”

“But—”

“But nothing,” he said firmly. “The subject is closed.”

She sighed, shutting her eyes against the overwhelming urge to throttle him. He was like a freaking steel beam when he made up his mind about something.

She got up and stalked over to the window, watching as the helicopter lifted into the air. She'd never felt so damn helpless in her life. Not even during the days in the orphanage when she and D had lived every moment in fear.

Warm hands gripped her shoulders, kneading and soothing.

“We'll find a way to help D, baby,” Mad Dog murmured. “You've got to relax. You can't take on the world by yourself.”

Her shoulders slumped underneath his hands, and her head bowed.

“What do you say you and I head to Paris for a little R and R? It's been a while since we cut loose and had a little fun together.”

“I can't leave D. He might need me.”

Mad Dog turned her around to face him. “Jonah will be here with him, and Marcus is coming out tomorrow to check D over. He'll be fine.”

Tyana reached out to twirl a strand of Mad Dog's hair around her finger, indecision wracking her brain. “You know Paris is my weakness.”

He grinned charmingly. “I'll even take you to Aviation Club de France and let you lose some of my hard-earned cash.”

She looked beyond his shoulder to Jonah. She raised a brow in question.

“I've never tried to keep you on a leash, Ty,” Jonah said dryly. “You don't need to ask my permission. You and Mad Dog go and have fun. D will be fine here with me.”

Impulsively, she threw her arms around Mad Dog's neck and hugged him tight. He wrapped his beefy arms around her waist and squeezed her just as hard. Then he smacked her on the ass.

“Go get packed. I'll get the chopper ready, and Jonah will call and make sure the jet is fueled and ready when we hit the mainland.”

 

 

 

Eli watched her across the intimate club setting as she collected chips from another pot she'd won. Her eyes glowed with excitement as she stacked her winnings. The man at her side grinned and nudged her on the shoulder. She laughed and turned her wide smile on him. The two were obviously close, and Eli wasn't fooled by the man's easygoing demeanor. He hovered protectively over her.

Which begged the question. If she was intimately involved with the rather large guy glued to her side, what the fuck had she been doing in Eli's bed just days ago?

He felt a surge of irritation.

He knew exactly why she'd been in his bed. She was using him. For what he didn't know, but he was going to find out what the hell she wanted. And if she was a threat to his team.

His team. His lips drew into a thin line. He didn't have a team. A team implied an organized unit. Something with a network. Back-up. What he had were three men he felt a deep responsibility for. Members of his former
team
. A team that used to be recognized by his government.

Now they were a group of men without a country. Cut loose and ignored as long as they played by the unspoken rules. Play dead. Disappear.

Only now, his mystery woman threatened their obscurity.

When he was sure he was unobserved, he recorded a few shots of the couple with the mini camera chip concealed in his palm. He'd upload them and zap them over to Gabe at the first opportunity.

He picked up a glossy magazine and held it up as he saw her rise from the table and head presumably to the ladies' room. With a quick glance to make sure her bodyguard hadn't spotted him, Eli moved in the woman's direction.

He followed her discreetly until she ducked into the bathroom. He stood, waiting at a distance, and wondered for the hundredth time who she was and what her story was.

The Aviation Club de Paris catered to a rather exclusive crowd. Mostly bigger names in poker. The wealthy and the famous. Judging by the amount of chips he'd seen in front of the woman and her escort, she wasn't short on cash.

When she reappeared from the bathroom, he watched as she returned to her table. A few minutes later, she and her escort collected her chips and left the table. They cashed out then exited the club. The man hailed a taxi, and they clambered in.

Eli stepped outside as the taxi sped away. He hurried down the street until he could step into an alley and shift.

The rush burned over his skin. He didn't stop to savor the sensation as he usually did. There wasn't time. Even before he was fully transformed, he streaked toward the distant cab. He rode the wind, coalescing into tiny particles of gasses.

Ten minutes later, the taxi pulled to a stop in front of the Royal Hotel on Avenue de Friedland. The couple stepped out and walked laughing into the hotel.

Eli wrapped around the strands of her hair, absorbing her fragrance until his every molecule smelled of her. He rode the elevator up with the couple. Stayed glued to his mystery woman until she stopped in front of her room.

To his surprise, her escort ruffled her hair, forcing Eli from his perch. Then he gave her a quick kiss on the cheek before walking a few feet down to the next room.

So they weren't sharing a room. Interesting, indeed. And very convenient as far as Eli was concerned. Certainly made things easier for him.

When she entered her room, Eli swirled to a corner, shimmering there as mist as he watched her prepare for bed. She stripped from the silk sheath, and as much as he liked the view of her in just lingerie, he was damned sorry to see the dress go. It fit her like a dream, adhering to her every curve.

The room pulsed and vibrated around him as she pulled her bra and panties off and slipped a satin camisole over her head. For the first time he could remember, he had difficulty maintaining his form.

His human form called to him, begging him to shift so he could touch her, caress her skin. Who was he fooling? Yeah, he wanted, needed, to know who she was and what she was up to, but he was interested in her in a far more personal way.

She'd gotten under his skin as few women in his lifetime had. He should be pissed that she'd laid him out at their last meeting, but instead he was more amused by the little spitfire. He wouldn't underestimate her again, and that would even the playing field.

As she settled among the covers, her soft, even breathing filled the room. Still, he waited patiently, wanting to make sure she had drifted off to sleep. Why, he wasn't sure, since he intended to wake her, but he wanted the element of surprise.

When he was sure she was sleeping, he floated over to the bed, becoming a wisp of smoke, so thin he would barely be visible.

He feathered across the hollow of her throat, circling her neck and back around before sliding lightly over her full lips. He stroked her cheek, imagining it was his lips following the curve of her jaw.

He chuckled to himself when she brushed her hand across her face and turned her head to the side.

You won't escape me so easily this time, little firebrand.

He continued his smoky seduction, sliding underneath the neckline of her satin nightie. The material lifted the slightest bit and rippled as he swirled around her nipple.