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“Don’t be ridiculous.” I stepped toward her, and again she stepped back.
I hated this game. I hated it, but loved it at the same time.
I liked when she ran, but this wasn’t a game. Not right now. Not when she looked like her puppy had been murdered in front of her eyes.
“If you show that knife to an Irish,” I explained, “It’ll identify you as a friend, and they’ll take you to us. Me. Or Eoghan.”
“Oh,” she breathed, still seeming to process what I offered with that knife.
She tilted her head, then regarded me and the surrounding hallway. Determination set her jaw. The tears melted away.
“You’re about to pick a fight, aren’t you?” I grinned, thinking of what this little operative was about to do. “But who will you wage war with?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Her brows lowered a little, then she smoothed it out to hide her feelings again.
I chuckled.
Jessica came back down the hall, a small styrofoam cup of coffee in her hand. She had re-done her lip gloss. She made eyes at me as she walked behind Rose.
I reached a hand out to my vixen, placing it on her collar and letting my hand slide up until the heel of my palm rested on her pulse point. I liked the look of my knife in her hands. Maybe that made me a sick bastard, but there was something about a strong woman with weapons that spoke to my dark fantasies.
“Come on.” I nodded to the entryway of the building, and she followed me out into the night.
I walked toward the road, the one with two tracks that would lead us back to the house. It took a few steps before I realized that she wasn’t following me. I stopped, turned, and saw her walking back into the woods.
“Where are you going?” I called out.
She shrugged, continuing her walk, not looking back at me.
What the hell was this strange woman doing? I followed her.
She went between the trees, meandering through the low ferns, and touching the branches. I wasn’t sure if she knew where she was going, but I followed her silently. I grinned, thinking that maybe we’d have another round of play tonight. But she gave no indication of that. Her steps had purpose, and she was determined to get somewhere.
We came to the edge of the woods, to a small car-sized gap that existed between the treeline and the red brick wall that separated it from the road on the other side. Security lights shone down from the top of the wall, perched below the CCTV cameras that lined the whole property.
She turned to me.
“Stay there.” She told me, her hand up, palm towards me. I did. I watched her put my knife into the back of her pants, tucking it securely.
She stepped backwards out of the tree line, her hand coming up to a fist over her head. The electricity cut. The lights shut off, and she was once again bathed in nothing but moonlight. She continued to step backward to where the pressure sensors would have alerted the command center of an intruder. But those sensors, like the lights, were useless.
I could hear distant shouting. The men were panicking without their lights and radios. I chuckled to myself.
My woman had signaled her man on the outside, and I would guess they either had a predetermined rendezvous point, or he was tracking her from the camera labels.
She turned, and with a running leap, pushed with one foot on the wall to give her additional height so that her fingers caught the ledge. The wall was almost eight feet high, with additional iron spikes at the top. She pulled herself up. With perverse delight, I watched her biceps flex against her sleeves, and her lats flare with the movement. She grabbed one of the iron rods and pulled herself the rest of the way.
With only the briefest glance at me, she smiled before jumping down the other side.
That glance was a mercy. It told me everything I needed to know.
This wasn’t over.
Chapter 21
Rose
Brettdrovethericketycamper van like a bat out of hell, expertly compensating for its top heaviness as we wound down the mountain pass.
