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“Before you freak on me, the compartment has an absorber spell against extreme shock and heat. I only carry C-4, which is highly stable anyway, and I pay for TATB, an even better stabilizer. I’ve tested spelled bullets, and since their magic is designed to work on living beings, the explosive acts as if a regular round had hit it, which is to say, not at all.” Her confident gaze didn’t waiver when she met his. “Should be perfectly safe and could be extremely useful.”
While he tried to ignore the way his pulse jumped—how could her knowledge of explosives make him want to take her right there on the table? He pulled the demand she remove the components from the tip of his tongue. Maybe she had the correct idea. Though they wouldn’t be blowing up the building, best to be prepared, right?
“Prepared is a good word for you, Caro Kavenaugh—maybe ‘The End’ should change to ‘Girl Scout.’ Hopefully, we won’t need what’s in those two compartments.”
Her features slammed shut, hiding any thoughts from him. Yet, by the way she yanked the zippers back together to make the pack a clean-lined, if thick, rectangle once more, she wasn’t happy.
What had he said? Maybe she didn’t like her new nickname. Or maybe she hadn’t thought he'd have contacts good enough to pierce the CIA veil? Personnel began to stream toward the exits and their waiting vehicles.
With a little fiddling, she inserted the earpiece, adjusted the comms device again, then mounted the bag with a strap on each shoulder. Two forty-caliber pistols were in thigh holsters, with knives in their sheaths attached. Extra magazines sat in holders attached around her waist.
Someone hailed Miren, leaving no one to witness Ryn’s words. “Hey, if I upset you by ‘Girl Scout,’ I’ll make sure no one uses it.”
“I should’ve expected you to do a background check.” She waved a hand which gave the opposite effect of a denial with the rough gesture.
He jerked a nod. “I should’ve asked what moniker you preferred.”
“‘The End’ is fine. I’m used to the name, and it’s the only thing I want to bring to these assholes.”
He took in her confident, grim visage as she pivoted and turned toward the exit. Rarely had he seen such a gorgeous and lethal combination. Sanguis females were usually thought of as vicious, yet because of the clan’s patriarchal ways, they were usually relegated to violence done in secret. Except for the former queen, of course, who’d been vicious in an angry, unhinged manner, not methodical and efficient, like Caro.
He eyed the back of the intriguing vampire striding in front of him. Too bad females were not represented at any level in the King’s Army or security forces. Caro would be an asset. Kriann had a hard path ahead if he truly meant to be more inclusive and bring Sanguisians into the twenty-first century.
West swore. This female was too important to lose. He’d make sure Caro stayed with his own operation, where he welcomed anyone of talent, regardless of gender. What other talents did Caro have? His stupid little brain wanted to find out the erotic ones. He gave himself a mental slap against the back of his head.
Going up against Griffith Jenkins was no time to have all of his brains in his dick. The cunning fae might as well be a demon.
Plus, West should remember he didn’t trust, Caro, right?
Right.
CHAPTER13
Caro sat next to Ryn on the bench seat of the panel van, her shoulders almost touching his. To distract her from the flutters his proximity caused, she focused on the events of the past hour.
The op’s brief mirrored the professional organization from her prior life. The half-assed manner Lequare had allowed his security to run operations made her want to vomit. Instead, she’d blended in, made subtle suggestions for which she expected—and never received—credit.
“Pulling up,” the driver said. He’d join medic personnel once the team exited.
She tensed, leaning forward more than merely to compensate for the backpack. Ryn did the same and their shoulders brushed. An electric charge seemed to jump between them. The panel opened, cutting off any further thought about what the charge could mean. Work’s cold determination settled over her.
Game on.
She followed Charl out and drew one of her guns. While she raced toward the door with her teammates, she examined the looming building. The exterior appeared to be nothing that would stand out, unlike Lequare’s skyscraper showpiece. The generic, light-industrial warehouse of tilt-wall concrete construction sported dark gray over light gray paint. No visible security cameras hung at the roofline, nor at the door she approached. She fit herself into the stack’s order against the wall.
Ryn lined up behind her, placed his heavy, warm hand on her shoulder, and squeezed gently, the ‘ready’ sign. A small part of her thrilled at the connection, though she ruthlessly shoved the emotion aside in favor of pressing the elf’s shoulder in front of her. Up the line the signal went until finally reaching Miren.
“Now. Now. Now.” The low, urgent voice of the operations commander came through the earpiece.
Hayden primed a spell in her hand and hurled the energy at the door. Light points danced around the rectangle’s edges. Spelled, as suspected. Next, the sorcerer hurled a glowing golden ball. The light streaked from her hand, forming a rope, which snaked around the metal. With a yank, she pulled the steel panel from the frame and tossed it over her shoulder. Caro poured in with her team, following Miren, who had made a quick left inside. Without looking, she knew Ryn would follow Charl in the classic building entry pattern of odds and evens sticking together.
A six-foot cubical wall met her gun’s sights. The room itself must be half of the building, at least one hundred and fifty feet. While she moved, she scanned the gray fabric panels, over the top to the open-beam ceiling, down to the commercial-grade carpet.
Charl and Ryn appeared in the right corner of her eye. Their direction must’ve been a dead-end and they now moved as a four-person team, two along either wall, with Hayden bringing up the rear. In the otherwise eerily silent building, a spell sizzled behind them which the sorcerer must’ve set.
“Six is in.” Miren’s voice, a bare whisper, came over her com. No one acknowledged. None of the other teams counted off either.
While the lack of communications concerned Caro, the failure didn’t surprise her. Jenkins was smart to cut off attackers’ comms.
