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She kept looking at him, waiting for—something. Something that would give her a clue about the man she was entrusting her life to.
He put the Humvee in reverse and did a three-point turn to take them back into town, but he stopped and looked at her, his face unusually serious. She hadn’t really realized until that moment how his face had always been filled with such good humor. She wondered now if it was a mask to hide something darker.
“You know him?” she finally asked, after the tension dragged on.
He shook his head and turned back to the road. “Never heard of him.”
ChapterSix
The Humvee crept along the road and the windows strained as the wind blew off the water, and Nate kept his grip relaxed against the wheel, despite the pounding need in him to squeeze it hard enough to make his hands ache.
He had no idea what had just happened, but Eden Kane was more perceptive than he’d given her credit for. Just because she’d isolated herself the last couple of years didn’t mean she’d forgotten how to read someone.
It had been years since he’d heard the name Warlock—for good reason. Warlock had been killed in Russia. And because Warlock had died, Nate Locke had been able to live out in the open and without fear that someone would try to hunt him down. Cypher had made sure that all mentions of Warlock and Nate Locke being one and the same had been erased from history. It was still possible his past could catch up to him at some point, but it was unlikely. Cypher was the best.
Warlock had seen and done things for his country that ate holes in his gut if he thought about them too long. The memories still plagued him in nightmares, which was only one of the reasons he’d chosen to remain single. Most women didn’t care to be woken out of a sound sleep by a man screaming as if being skinned alive by Satan himself.
He’d have to be very careful with Eden and make sure she didn’t find out the truth about the monster he’d been, and why it had been so important for him to die and start over again.
Snow blew so hard into the windshield that it was impossible to see anything but white, so Nate almost hit the man standing in the middle of the road before he saw him. He slammed on the brakes and was thankful he hadn’t been going very fast to begin with. Eden had her gun out and pointed at the windshield before he’d come to a complete stop.
Nate was about to slam the car in reverse when the man’s hands came up in front of him, palms out in a gesture to signal they stop. A heavy coat lined with fur dwarfed him, and a fur-lined hood surrounded his face. And then between swishes of the wipers, he was gone as quickly as he appeared.
“What the hell—” Eden said, bringing her gun down.
The knock on Nate’s window had both of their weapons coming up and their adrenaline spiking. The old man’s face was all but pressed up to the glass, brown and wrinkled with age, most of his teeth missing as he smiled a jack-o’-lantern smile. Snow gathered on his eyebrows and lashes and gray hair hung in long braids on both sides of his face. Nate released the breath he’d been holding and put his gun in his lap, though he kept his hand on it.
“Holy hell,” Eden said, releasing her own breath. “That was creepy. What does he want?”
“Let’s find out.” Nate rolled down the window and snow blew into the car, slapping and stinging against his face.
“Atticus Cameron sent me,” the old man said, his Native accent thick but not difficult to understand. He eyed the gun Eden pointed at him with curiosity and then turned back to Nate, dismissing the threat. “I’ll ride in back and you can take me to town. This weather is only going to get worse, and I’m old.”
No kidding, Nate thought. The man had to be about the oldest person he’d ever seen. He sighed and hit the lock switch so the man could get in.
The man moved to the back door and Nate whispered, “Of course Atticus sent him. Only Atticus would send the oldest man in the universe to help us. He’s probably sitting at home, laughing his head off.”
“Atticus doesn’t strike me as the type of guy to have much of a sense of humor,” Eden said.
She watched the man closely as he got into the back seat, and Nate noticed she didn’t take her weapon off him, though she did relax her grip some.
“Oh, Atticus is a very funny guy,” the man said, nodding. “A real prankster.”
“That’s very true,” Nate said. “Or at least he used to be. Why did Atticus send you?”
“He said you need supplies. I have supplies.” The man shrugged and threw his hands up, sending droplets of water throughout the car. “Simple fix. You will stay with me until the storm clears. My name is Chanlyeya, but everyone calls me Joe.”
Nate knew when to not argue, and he’d stopped questioning long ago how Atticus knew before his agents did when they were going to need something. He had contingency plans on top of contingency plans.
“The man you are after will not get far. The storm is too bad. And the two men after him will not get far either. Plenty of time. I am wise and old. You will listen to me. You hungry?”
“I could eat,” Nate said, pressing on the gas pedal.
“You drive like an old woman,” Joe said. “We’ll not get there until tonight. Pedal to the metal, friend. I’ll be your eyes.”
Nate gritted his teeth and ignored Eden’s snicker from the passenger seat. Sonowshe decided to get her sense of humor back. He did the only thing he could to save face and pushed on the gas, the Humvee fishtailing once before righting itself and speeding ahead.
Strangely enough, using Joe’s eyes worked pretty well and Nate just followed his directions until they got back to town.
