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“I’d like to know more about those tough breaks.”
Her brows furrowed slightly. “Maybe…later.”
Wasn’t exactly an enthusiastic promise of opening up, but it was still something. “I can work with that.” He brushed the pads of his thumbs across the soft center of her bottom lip. And he heard that tiny catch. It did in whatever control he’d built back up. “Definitely is a good start.” He was leaning back in for another taste of her before he even realized his intent.
She immediately shifted back, enough so that his mouth didn’t brush hers, but not enough to completely dissuade him. “You’re more dangerous than I thought,” she whispered.
She was as serious and sincere as he’d been. He understood immediately how profound that was coming from someone like Karasu who had protected herself for a long time.
“Not to you, babe.”
“Time will tell,” she said, shrugging. “So, you want to continue with this?”
She tried to ask casually, as if his answer mattered little to her, but he’d been staring at her too intently to miss the telltale way her throat worked, the way her gaze darted to his mouth again. Yeah. Not so cool and collected after all.
“Fuck, yeah,” he said, cocky grin resurfacing as he totally disregarded every single reason this could break him. “We’re in this together, personally and professionally. Part of the team.”
He was rewarded for his complete honesty by getting to watch her pupils dilate a little in response. And not in fear. His body charged right back into the fray with complete and utter abandon.
“We have a lot to do, to consider, Boyce.”
“Better stick with Preacher, for now,” he said as a way to keep his reasoning and sanity. Hearing his name on her lips moved him in ways he didn’t really have the time to explore right now. He stepped back to keep from reaching for her again. It couldn’t matter that he was granite-hard, and she was right there within reach. They had a job to do.
They left the hotel room, inserting their earpieces so if they happened to get separated, they could communicate. Down in the garage of the hotel, the CIA had provided the team with wheels, a green Land Rover covered in dirt.
“I know La Paz pretty well, so I can drive,” she said, smiling and climbing into the driver’s side.
La Paz’s seven districts were spread over a deep, wide canyon, the city being one of the highest in the world, upward of ten thousand feet above sea level.
They had tracking on a GPS on the dash and had already loaded Volk’s signal. They both carried concealed weapons, hers beneath the hoodie and his underneath the button-down shirt, left open for easy access.
“Buckle up,” she said, grinning as she maneuvered them into morning traffic.
Preacher slapped a hand on the dash, giving her a side glance, and her giggle made him smile. La Paz was awake, and he navigated her toward the signal, then frowned when the beacon took a turn. “Max Paredes,” Preacher said.
“That’s in the north, the industrial part of town where some of the manufacturers are located,” Karasu said, glancing then changing lanes. “Wonder what he could be doing over there.” She honked and then shifted over again. “It’s not like Volk to remain quiet, unless he’s undercover.”
“Do you think it’s possible he’s infiltrated some organization and is following a lead?”
“It’s possible.” She bit her lip, and he could tell she wasn’t keen on being separated from her longtime partner and didn’t like being in the dark. He’d often wondered exactly what their relationship entailed. Not that he was going to get jealous. What Karasu had done in her past didn’t really affect him. It was the present he was more interested in.
“What would draw NSH to the manufacturing district?”
“We don’t know enough about the organization, what they want or why they are doing what they’re doing, so I haven’t a clue. But if Volk is going there, then it must be important.”
She downshifted, putting the car into an opening between two trucks, then like a rocket, powered through and dodged a traffic jam on side streets. Then the area opened, the shadow of tall buildings no longer crowding as she drove.
She crossed into the central part of the city, District Six, encompassingCentro, Casco Viejo, andMirafloreswhich was separated from downtown by aParque Urbano Centralor Central Urban Park and connected by the Bridge of the Americas and two avenues. It had been mostly residential but was now a major recreational center.
Above them La Paz’s cable-car system ran gondolas overhead, suspended on thick black cables, part of the My Cable Car, the world’s largest high-altitude urban cable-car system. A cheap alternative to taxis and faster travel through the seven districts.
Once over the bridges and into District Five, warehouses lined the road in, then split off in wide streets to different companies and cargo. A beverage manufacturer was at the farthest end, but the signal didn’t go in that direction.
“Can you narrow the location?” she asked, coming to a fork. “It’s a massive place.”
“Turn left, then go right.”
“Here,” he said, watching the neon dot blink.
