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“They have him.” She hated the need for the action, hated more leaving him behind to be shut out. “Plat will get him locked down. Merc’s still got our backs.” That was the plan, anyway. After the evidence Merc turned up in the rooms, they wanted to follow all the leads. The balls on the people using the conference for their own blow-the-world-to-shit bazaar made her physically ill.
“Good.” He squeezed her hand. “We need to go meet with Mr. In Love with Your Tits over there. I think he’s planning a threesome, or maybe he just wants you to suck his cock.”
“Probably. Too bad for him, I bite.” She clicked her teeth together. Cobalt winced, then winked.
“I’m going to make him work for it,” he assured her. “You up for being sold?”
“Why not? I’ve got no other plans for tonight.” No Gabriel to slink off and see. No Gabriel to feel pounding into her while he demanded she give him every ounce of her desire. Her nipples tightened at the thought of him. A chill settled at the base of her spine, cold fingers walking across her nerves.
The number of terrorists, dealers, pushers, and pedophiles in the room was astounding. Members of Russian Bratvas, Columbian cartels, domestic mafia, and more—the whole thing defied all conventions. So, why here? Why was Coyle dead?
“Cobalt?” She dropped the act, the pieces of the puzzle jangling around in her brain.
“Yeah?” The flip tone drained from his voice. He glanced around them, and she knew he scanned the room.
“We’re missing something.” She shifted her position, leaning into him so she could study the targets. Nearly every single one they’d identified were present in the bar.
All of them.
Every. One.
“Ideas?” Maybe she and Cobalt hadn’t been assigned to the same team, but they had experience working in dangerous situations.Always trust the man at your back. If you can’t trust him, he shouldn’t be there.Glancing from slimy criminal to bastard terrorist to puss-sucking ooze of a human being, she frowned. What were they missing?
Conference on International Commerce.
Foreigners.
Domestics.
“Where’s Red Wolf?” The moment she asked the question, she stiffened. A knife in the dark was as effective as a bullet, especially if it wasn’t clear who held the blade. “The only link to them we had—the only two—were Coyle and Danvers.”
“You think Danvers is clean.” Not a question.
She shrugged, then scanned the room again. What was out of place? Something about the whole set up was off. If Coyle was Red Wolf’s tool, and they dispensed with him before a meeting like this, the question remained, why? “My gut says he’s not dirty. He may not be innocent, but he isn’t dirty.” Her gut or her vagina? One was not as good a judge of character as the other, but she wanted to believe in Gabriel.
It had been a long time since she’d wanted to believe in anything.
“Huh.” Cobalt grunted and shifted to stand immediately behind her. Wrapping his arms around her midsection, he pressed his lips to her ear. “These people do have one thing in common where Red Wolf is concerned.”
“They’re all scum?” This close, she barely had to move her mouth to whisper.
“They’re competitors in all the same—” The rest of his sentence was lost in a dazzling brightness flooding her vision. Blinded, she turned her face away. One moment, she faced the room, and in the next, a wave of heat slammed into her and she flew backwards.
Her head slammed into Cobalt’s chest. Roaring filled her ears, and she tasted blood. Then a harsh sucking sound evacuated the silence, and screams ripped through the air. Dust ballooned and sparks exploded from damaged light fixtures. A woman stumbled from the direction of the conference room, blood trailing from where her right arm used to be.
Copper tried to sit up. Adrenaline surged through her veins. She had to sit up, they needed to move—to get the civilians out of the way. Twisting slowly, she tapped Cobalt and then stopped. He lay behind her. He’d cushioned her landing, and his chest had been what she hit her head against.
Blood trickled from his nose, and his head turned at the wrong angle. Coughing, she tasted a fresh wave of blood and forced herself over. She touched her fingers to his neck. “Breathe,” she tried to say the word. “Be breathing.”
Brilliance fried her retinas again, and the force of a second explosion slammed into her back. She threw herself down atop him, covering his head when the ceiling gave, and then the floor crumbled and hell swallowed them both.
Gabriel’s heartwas in his throat. The force of the blast had sent them crashing into the van. Glass flying at high velocity had sliced his shirt and face. Blood filled his mouth, and his head screamed. He touched two fingers to his forehead, and they came away bloody. Car alarms klaxoned all around him, and he fought his way to his feet. A hand gripped his arm and yanked him upward.
Exchanging a look with Merc, he felt a sudden kinship for the wickedly scarred man. “She’s in there,” he said. “I’m going back.”
“Yes.” No denial. No rejection. The other man made it to his feet.
“Go,” he yelled. “Calling backup.”
