Lethal Consequences (The Aegis Series Book 2) Page 5

  She couldn’t move. Could barely think. Her arms hung at her sides while his body molded to hers and his warm breath fanned the skin near her ear. Beneath the dirt, she could smell him—that sweet, earthy scent of citrus and pine she remembered from the day he’d rescued her in Seattle. She wanted to push him away, to lash out at him, but her muscles weren’t responding to her brain’s commands, and her body was flashing back to months ago, when he’d been her knight in shining armor.

  “They’re going to come for you,” he whispered. “They’re going to take you away from me and ask you questions. You don’t know anything. Just answer honestly. Don’t try to lie. They’ll know if you’re lying.”

  They. The people who’d taken them. The ones who’d left him bruised and bloody. Fear lodged a knot in her throat. “I can’t—”

  “You can. You’re the strongest woman I know.” His voice hitched, and his arms tightened around her. “Don’t try to protect me. Don’t try to protect anyone but yourself. Tell them whatever they want to know. You can get through this. You can live.”

  Live . . .

  That was all she wanted right now. To go back to her boring life in Boise. But even as the word sank in, she realized he hadn’t said we. He’d said you.

  “Landon—”

  “They don’t want you, Olivia. They want me. Just tell them what you know about me.”

  She wasn’t sure what he meant. Didn’t know what he was saying. Before she could ask, the door slammed open, the sound of hinges creaking and metal hitting metal echoing through the room with an ominous clank that made her jump.

  “Bring her,” a voice barked.

  Landon released her and stepped away. Olivia wanted to reach for him, wanted to pull him back. Her gaze found his. His chocolate eyes were sad, pained, guilty, and when she realized the confident, commanding man she’d met that day in Seattle was nowhere to be seen in his battered features now, a new sense of fear closed a tight, cold hand around her throat.

  The man in the light moved forward, grabbed her by the arm, and wrenched her away from the wall. Landon didn’t say anything. Didn’t reach for her. Didn’t try to stop them. But she read the look in his eyes. And she knew what he was saying even if he didn’t mouth the words.

  I’m sorry.

  Seated at his desk, Jake glanced up at the heavy footfalls across his office floor.

  “He didn’t make the flight.” Marley slapped a paper on the mahogany surface and pinned him with hard, worried blue eyes.

  Carefully—because he’d seen that look before and knew it meant she was in bloodhound mode—Jake lifted the paper and scanned the timeline she’d worked up. “Did you try to call him?”

  “He’s not answering his cell.”

  “And the hotel?”

  “His room was ransacked. No sign of him.”

  “Shit.”

  “Yeah, you could say that.”

  Jake rubbed a hand over his hair. Miller was due back to the DIA in five days. Though Jake hated to lose him, he knew the way the game was played. It was possible someone from the Pentagon had learned Miller had been moonlighting for Aegis, but Jake seriously doubted that was the cause of Miller’s disappearance now. If they had found out, they’d most likely turn a blind eye, especially so close to the man’s reinstatement. No, what concerned Jake most was the fact Miller’s room had been tossed. As if someone was looking for something. As if Miller was the key to finding it.

  “The hotel concierge said a woman showed up at the hotel last night inquiring about Landon.”

  “Did he give you a description?” Jake asked, reaching for his phone. Miller had given Jake his CO’s info at the DIA, not that Jake ever had any reason to use it, but there was always a first for everything.

  “Yes. Medium height, thin, green eyes, shoulder-length blonde hair, American, with a purple butterfly tattoo on her ankle.”

  Jake’s hand hovered over the keypad on his phone, and he slanted a look at Marley. Her glasses were pushed up to the top of her head, and her blonde hair hung in a sleek, wavy mass past her shoulders—a new look for her, one he liked more than he should. “A butterfly tattoo? Are you sure?”

  “That’s what the man said. I already called her house. Olivia isn’t answering either. And—get this—she took a leave of absence from her teaching job at the end of last week.”

  “Son of a bitch.” Jake set the phone down and pushed back from his chair. “Where’s Eve?”

  “She and Zane are finishing that assignment in Atlanta.”

  “Dammit, I told Miller to fucking leave her alone.” Jake rounded his desk and crossed to his jacket, which was tossed along the back of the couch in his office. He yanked out his cell phone. “Guys like Miller should not get involved with anyone. Period. And he knows that.”

  He didn’t wait for Marley’s answer—they’d been around this topic before with other operatives, and he already knew she thought he should butt out of their personal lives. But Landon Miller was not one of his regular operatives. The call went straight to voice mail.

  “Son of a bitch,” he muttered again, typing in a new number.

  Zane Archer picked up on the second ring. “Whatever happened, it wasn’t me.”

  Jake ignored the smartass answer. “Tell your girlfriend to turn her fucking cell on.”

  “We’re done for the day. We were taking a break.”

  The smile in Archer’s voice told Jake loud and clear just what kind of break they’d been taking. When Jake had hired Eve to work at Aegis, he hadn’t known the two of them were going to be like this—all lovey-dovey and disgustingly in lust. Happiness was the last thing he needed shoved in his face every damn day.

  “I need Wolfe to contact her sister. She’s not answering her home or cell numbers.”

  “Olivia?” Zane asked. “Why?”

  “Because we think she might be with Miller.”

  Silence, then, “Shit.”

  Yeah. It was. Total shit. Jake raked a hand through his hair, barely believing he was dealing with this crap right now. Zane’s muffled words echoed through the line, and then a click sounded in Jake’s ear, followed by Eve’s concerned voice.

  “Ryder? What’s going on? Why do you think Olivia’s with Miller?”

  He relayed what Marley had told him. “We don’t know for sure it’s her; we’re just covering all bases.”

  “Olivia would not fly all the way to Europe without telling me.”

  “When was the last time you talked to her?”

  Eve was silent for a moment, then said, “Last week.”

  “And how did she sound? Dismissive? Evasive?”

  “She’s always dismissive and evasive with me,” Eve answered, a frustrated tone to her voice. “Ever since the abduction, she thinks I’m mothering her to death.”

  Which Eve was. Not that Jake could blame her. If his sister had been nabbed by Chechen terrorists, he’d be more than a little protective now too. Luckily, Jake’s sister was tucked up safe and sound in Nashville with her boyfriend and Aegis operative, Brian Walker. “Miller’s been texting her. A lot.”

  Marley flipped the paper in Jake’s hand to the second page and pointed at the info she’d gotten from the hotel. Jake read it and winced, and a whole new set of expletives filled his head.

  “How do you know that?” Eve asked in his ear.

  “Because I pay his fucking cell phone bill.”

  “Dammit.”

  There was no way to sugarcoat this, and Eve would never want that. A former CIA officer, Eve was as tough as any operative Jake had ever hired. The fact she happened to be able to keep Archer in line was a minor plus. “When Marley called the hotel inquiring what time Miller checked out, she learned he never did. They sent security up to check. The room was empty when they got there, but trashed, and they found blood splatters on the floor and furnitur
e. It also looks like a couple guests they interviewed confirmed a woman fitting Olivia’s description was seen entering Miller’s room late last night.”

  “I put a tracking device in her purse.” Muffled, Eve said, “Zane, bring me my computer.”

  “You track your sister’s whereabouts?” Jake asked, surprised and impressed. “Does she know this?”

  “Are you kidding? She’d kill me if she knew.” The click of keys sounded over the line. “I sewed it into the lining of her purse last month when she refused to tell me where she was going and what she was up to. She went through this phase where she wasn’t telling me anything.” Eve huffed, and more clicking sounded. “Actually, she’s still in that phase. Oh shit.”

  “What?” Jake snapped his fingers at Marley and mouthed for her to pull up a map of Spain on the giant computer screen on the wall to his left.

  “She’s not in Barcelona.”

  Jake breathed out a sigh of relief. “Well, that’s one piece of good news, at least.”

  “No,” Eve said, her voice tight. “It’s not. GPS is showing her purse on the island of Sardinia. In the Mediterranean.”

  Olivia bit her lip to keep from crying out as she was pushed into a chair. Her arms had been wrenched behind her back and zip-tied before she’d been pulled out of her room. Plastic cut into the skin of her wrists as she was jerked back against the chair, her arms crushed between her body and the cushion. A bright light flicked on over the table in front of her, and she blinked several times to clear the spots from her vision. Something sharp stabbed into the flesh of her upper arm.

  “Hey. What the—” She twisted that direction, her words cutting off when she realized they’d stuck her with another needle.

  Panic flooded her system. Another drug. One to knock her out again? Or something worse?

  “Olivia Wolfe,” a female voice said from across the room. “Boise, Idaho.”

  Olivia’s head shifted toward the voice. She couldn’t see into the darkness beyond the light, but there was a definite accent to the woman’s words. One Olivia had heard before. Breathing deep in an attempt to settle her racing heart, Olivia peered past the light where the woman stood, trying to get a better look. “You seem to know my name, now who are you?”

  “Someone,” the woman started, moving toward the table, “who doesn’t like surprises.”

  She stepped into the light, and Olivia sucked in a breath when she recognized the red hair and piercing dark eyes staring down at her. The same woman who’d been in Landon’s hotel room.

  “You can call me Chantal.” A wicked smile curled the woman’s lips. “Your boyfriend did.”

  Every muscle in Olivia’s body went rigid, and she leaned forward in her chair. “Whatever you want from me—”

  “I want nothing from you.” Chantal set Olivia’s open wallet on the table, then braced both hands on the metal surface. “Nothing but the exchange of pertinent information. If you help me, I will help you. It’s as simple as that.”

  Olivia glanced from Chantal’s dark eyes to the guard standing near the door, thick arms crossed over his chest, unfriendly gaze focused staunchly on her. Landon’s words rang through her head. “Just answer them honestly. Don’t try to lie. They’ll know if you’re lying.”

  Had they given her some kind of truth serum? Her pulse ticked up. She’d thought that nothing but an urban myth. But these people were clearly kidnappers and likely terrorists. The kind of nutjobs her sister used to track down for the CIA. Anything was possible. Her gaze slid back to Chantal. Olivia was clearly outmatched, bound, and at their mercy. And Landon was right. If she tried to lie, they’d see right through her.

  Though it went against every instinct she had, Olivia calmly asked, “Wh-what kind of information?”

  Chantal looked toward the guard and nodded. Olivia stiffened as he moved toward her and pushed her forward at the shoulder. A snap echoed at her back, then pressure eased on her wrists, and the zip tie fell to the floor.

  “I apologize for the restraints,” Chantal said. “A precaution. How well do you know Landon Miller?”

  Air seeped into Olivia’s lungs. Just having her wrists free made it easier to breathe. Rubbing the sore skin, she leaned back in her seat once more and reminded herself to just be honest, like Landon had said. She didn’t know anything. They wouldn’t get anything out of her. “H-he works with my sister.”

  That wasn’t a lie. Landon did work with Eve. How well Olivia knew him was another matter entirely, one she wasn’t interested in exploring right now, all things considered, especially with this woman.

  “At the DIA?” Chantal asked.

  Olivia shook her head. “At Aegis Security. I didn’t even know he used to work for the”—she swallowed because it was now blisteringly clear what he’d told her a few moments ago was true—“DIA until recently.”

  “Smart of him to prepare you.” Chantal eased a hip onto the table and crossed her arms over her chest. She wasn’t wearing the same revealing dress and slutty stilettos she’d been sporting back in Landon’s suite. Now she was dressed in boots, slim black pants, and a fitted, long-sleeved black shirt that showed off every curve. A vicious-looking knife was strapped to her thigh, and a gun Olivia couldn’t identify was holstered at her right hip. Her red hair hung around her face like a halo of fire, and though Olivia tried not to be intimidated, she couldn’t quite get there. The woman looked like a redheaded version of Angelina Jolie straight out of Salt. Sex appeal and danger—two things Olivia most definitely didn’t possess—all wrapped up in one sultry package. No wonder Landon was attracted to her.

  Sickness pushed its way up Olivia’s throat, and that burn of humiliation flamed her cheeks all over again.

  “Would it surprise you then to learn that he still works for the DIA?” Chantal asked, obviously not noticing—or caring about—Olivia’s reaction.

  Yeah, it would surprise Olivia. She forced aside the mortification and focused on the here and now. “H-he works for Aegis.”

  “No,” Chantal answered. “He doesn’t. Not really. Aegis is simply his cover. He works for the DIA. And not in any kind of information-gathering capacity, as I’m sure you’re assuming.”

  Olivia’s eyes narrowed. She had no idea where Chantal—if that was her real name—was going with this, but something in the back of her mind warned she might not want to know. “What are you implying?”

  “I’m not implying anything. I’m saying it flatly. Landon Miller is a contract assassin for the United States Department of Defense.”

  For a heartbeat, everything stilled. Even Olivia’s pulse.

  No. That couldn’t be true. Disbelief rushed through her. Landon worked for Jake Ryder at Aegis. He worked with her sister and Eve’s boyfriend, Zane Archer. If he was still with the DIA, that meant everything he’d told her these last few months was a lie, not just an omission.

  “I see this has come as quite a shock,” Chantal said in that sickeningly sexy French accent, “and that you don’t want to believe it. But think back and ask yourself, what do you really know of Landon Miller?”

  Olivia stared down at the table, barely seeing the sleek metal surface. The night she’d met Landon flashed behind her eyes, when he’d rescued her from those terrorists holding her captive in that house in Seattle. The way he’d taken her hand, pulled her toward the back of that cellar and blown open the door, then dragged her up the steps and into the light. She’d been so focused on fresh air, on freedom, on finding a way out that she hadn’t paid attention to what was happening behind them until he’d yelled, “You wanna live? Then haul ass, woman. We’ve got seconds before they’re here.”

  Her pulse picked up speed. There’d been three, four . . . at least five terrorists on their tail that night. He’d helped her scale the ten-foot wall surrounding the property, and when she’d asked if he was following, he’d told her not to worry about him. She
’d been so scared she’d gone over without a second thought and without looking back. But the sounds—sounds of gunfire and a fight and fist hitting bone—sounds she’d obviously blocked out until right this minute, came screaming back to her now.

  He’d taken all of them down. Alone. One against many. When she’d awoken in that hospital room all battered and bruised and a shell of her former self, there’d barely been a mark on him. And when she’d asked what had happened, he’d simply said, “I took care of them. It’s what I do.”

  Her skin grew cold and clammy. The air clogged in her throat.

  “Yes,” Chantal drew out. “Now you’re putting two and two together. Not the white knight you thought him to be, is he? I work for the French government—undercover, of course. We have reason to believe Landon Miller is planning to assassinate a very important person. The daughter of one of our highest-ranking officials. It’s important that we find her before he does. That’s what I was doing in his room last night. I let him pick me up in the hotel bar so I could decipher his next move. Unfortunately, you got in the way.”

  Olivia’s eyes slid closed. She was going to be sick. Landon hadn’t just broken her heart, he’d lied about who he worked for. And not only that, he wasn’t a black ops agent. He killed people for a living.

  Could this be true? Was it real? She didn’t know what to believe. Who to trust.

  “We need your help, Ms. Wolfe,” Chantal said, sliding Olivia’s wallet across the table toward her. Olivia opened her eyes and stared down at her school ID sticking out of a slot in her wallet. She’d hated that photo when it was taken earlier in the year, but looking at it now, it was like a shadow of the person she’d become. Someone she wished she could warn. “We want you to be able to go back to your old life in Idaho, but you won’t be safe until we can stop Landon Miller. More innocent people don’t need to die because of him.”

  She’d been so blinded by hero worship these last few months, she hadn’t taken a close look at the real man. Hadn’t even thought to question what he’d told her.