The God Game: Evangeline Heart Book 2 (Evangeline Heart Adventures) Read online

  “How do you know?” he growled, not letting up on his pacing.

  I shrugged. “I just do. Azazel is too intimate, too connected to these kills. If he’s sending his guys, it will be on a personal level.”

  He glared at me.

  “Trust me. If there’s one thing I do know, it’s how assassins have habits too.”

  He stopped pacing and turned, then swiftly closed the distance between us, gripping my arms tightly and shaking me once. “How would you do it?” he asked, his tone deadly soft. “If they hired you to kill me, how would you do it?” His hard gaze roamed my face, at odds with the tenderness in his voice.

  I let him manhandle me, knowing that he needed to control something about this situation. And I wasn’t worried that he’d hurt me. Not like this, anyway. I let him bend me backward and I tipped my chin up, exposing my neck so he could see my submission to his grip, to his question, to his fear.

  “How?”

  I thought about the question, about his habits, about how I knew him. “At night,” I whispered. “I’d slip in your room while you slept and I’d cut your throat.”

  He blanched and his face whitened. “Really?”

  I nodded and his grip relaxed. I stayed next to him, our bodies almost touching. “You’re a sound sleeper.” I laughed softly. “You sleep like the dead. Like a man who has nothing to fear.” I watched his features shift and soften as he processed what I was saying. “I envy you, actually. You’ve been that way from the very first time and it was shocking to see someone be able to fall asleep instantly without having to check exits, strategies, weapons, tick off all the people who might be coming to kill you tonight.”

  His hands moved around my back, holding me gently. “Is that what it’s like for you, then? Every night?”

  I nodded. “I’m used to it, though. If I go through my list and it hasn’t changed much since yesterday, I usually fall asleep after a few minutes. I’ve done it for so long that it’s become my nighttime ritual. Other people count sheep. I count how many people I’ve pissed off today.”

  He frowned. “That’s a pretty shitty way to fall asleep.”

  “Maybe.” Somewhere we’d gotten tangled up in my sleep patterns instead of his, but I didn’t want to get him ruffled again. That would come soon enough when I went back to training him. And okay … maybe it felt good to be standing in his arms, to feel his strength and to not have to rely on my own for just a moment. He was so rarely this passionate, this fiery, and I liked this side of him as much as I did his goofy persona. I needed him worried and alert.

  “Maybe we could come up with a new one.” His gaze dropped to my lips and for just a fleeting second, I was aroused and tempted to let him kiss me, to let him take me away from the pain and grief and frustration of this mission, of losing Griffin, of being so goddamn alone.

  His gaze flickered back up to my eyes and I saw the question there, like he’d expected me to brush him off instantly, pull out of his arms, and chastise him like I’d done every other time before. And I meant to … I did. But I hesitated once more.

  And this time he didn’t ask, didn’t question. His lips came down hard on mine and his hands tightened on my back, pulling me against his body. His lips were warm and firm and held a desperation that only comes from fear of dying, of seeing missed chances and future opportunities being flung away and out of reach as death comes racing forward to fill every crevice of what may come. I kissed him back, clinging to the aliveness of him, the urgency of his movements, the pressure of his fingers into the small of my back.

  His tongue darted out and brushed my lips. I could have pulled away then and we would have been able to chalk this up to an untethered moment of fear, but I didn’t. I didn’t. I let him press gently into my mouth and as I tasted him, I moaned at the exquisite feel of someone else. Someone other than me inside this body where I’d been imprisoned. One of his hands came up to cup my face, to tilt it to the side so he could deepen the kiss, and damned if I didn’t let him. My own hands found his waist, curled into the loose fabric of his shirt, and I felt more warmth and strength there, at the base of his ribs, the edge of his waistband.

  He kissed me deeply and with a longing that echoed in my own self. Then he gentled the kiss, touching his lips softly to mine and bringing his other hand up to hold my jaw. He rested his forehead against mine and my breath came in ragged gasps. “I’m sorry,” he whispered. “I didn’t mean—”

  I gave my head a little shake, our foreheads still pressed together. “Don’t. Just let it stand.”

  He moved one arm around my back and drew my cheek to his chest. My arms unclenched from his shirt and slid around his waist. We stood there, soldiers thrown together in a war that was not of our own making, death clinging to the door like the dark of the night, worries scratching at the hinges.

  But in this one moment, breathing each other’s air, we were safe.

  Chapter Seven

  I woke disoriented. And with Clay’s arms curled around me, his strong body nestled behind mine. I would have given anything to forget it was him, pretend he was someone else—not Griffin—but a faceless, nameless body that I could burrow into and lose myself for a few more hours of ignorant bliss. But awake, I couldn’t pretend that his arms didn’t feel just a little too good, or that his body didn’t fit a little too perfectly. Somewhere during the night he’d ditched his shirt and his bare skin against my exposed arms made me feel things I wasn’t ready to explore. I needed to shut that down immediately. We were partners, and I couldn’t let the lines between us blur into something confusing.

  After he’d kissed me, he’d tugged me down to the bed and exhaustion had overcome us both. He’d pulled the covers over our sagging bodies and held me. I’d let him, believing that it was more for him than for me, knowing it was a lie but choosing to surrender because I’d wanted it.

  For a handful of seconds, I’d voiced the need to train, but he’d shushed me and massaged the tension knots in my neck until I’d fallen asleep.

  I’d only managed a few hours of sleep, but I couldn’t stay. I slipped out of his arms and showered quickly, not wanting him to come looking for me while I was wet and naked. While he snored—lost in his sleep of the dead—I dressed, armed myself with an arsenal of knives and one gun, then pulled open the laptop that had been stored beneath the weapons. I wouldn’t be able to access the other mainframes—they kept each other locked out pretty good, at least beyond my own capabilities—but if there was anything to be found on Clay’s guy, the CIA would have enough to get us started until I could access the others.

  The art and relics that he’d stolen for that buyer would start the web and I could follow the trail inward from there. Thieves didn’t operate in a vacuum. Their paths always crossed into drugs, or money laundering, or some operation that the CIA needed to infiltrate. Especially a guy like Clay’s buyer, working with the high-end pieces he’d asked Clay to get. Azazel might be able to escape the CIA’s notice, but he was using regular men who were susceptible to surveillance, and that worked in my favor.

  All I needed was a single strand to get me going. The last painting we fenced was obviously a dead end, but maybe some of the original pieces preceded Azazel’s involvement. Those might be regular heists that weren’t tainted by Dr. Death. My fingers flew across the keyboard and I followed lead after lead, scratching out details on a notepad. This guy had sent Clay all over the world looking for relics. And he’d had other thieves picking up pieces for him too. I traced them all, not knowing where they’d intersect. One tiny detail that I overlooked now might be the key to unraveling this thing.

  The hair at my nape prickled and I froze, pen hovering above the notepad. I listened, not sure what had pulled me out of my zone, but I trusted the feeling. I stood, closed the laptop, and hurriedly tucked everything into the bag. I picked up a handgun from the remaining weapons.

  “Clay,” I whispered.

  “Huh?” He sat up groggily, the sheets and comforter falli
ng away from his bare chest.

  “We have company.” I eased toward the window, peeking out the blinds.

  Impressively, he flew into action, pulling on a shirt and boots. Thank god I’d already gotten dressed. He walked over to me and checked outside. “What’s going on?”

  I shook my head, but didn’t dare look away. “Not sure. Something set me off. I think we need to go.”

  “I’ll follow you.”

  I handed him the gun. “Take this.”

  He grimaced, but stuck it in the holster I’d made him start wearing in the small of his back. Today we were picking up more weapons for him and I wanted him in a double shoulder holster too. These guys played for keeps.

  And I’ll be damned if I was going to let them get my partner.

  Chapter Eight

  Now that we were being forced out of the hotel with too many hours before we could leave, I needed a place where we could hide out, and if we could train, too, that would be ideal.

  Nothing moved in the bright afternoon light but that didn’t mean they weren’t closing in on us. I’d doubted my intuition too many times over the last couple months and I’d promised to get back to trusting it. Today was the ultimate test since I hadn’t seen or heard anything to back up the feeling that had yanked me out of my research.

  The motel opened onto the parking lot and the Rover sat four feet to the left of the door. I hated walking out that way, but it was our only choice. Maybe if they thought that they still had the drop on us, we could get to the car and…

  “Fuck.” I had no reason to suspect otherwise, but I knew they’d rigged the truck.

  Clay pressed into me, peering out the small crack in the blinds above my head. “What?” His body tensed against mine and I could hear the worry in his voice.

  “We can’t take the truck.” I quickly scanned the parking lot. They might still be waiting for confirmation, needing to take it back to the boss that we’d successfully been eliminated. I had to assume we had eyes on us.

  “How fast can you hotwire a car?” I asked, knowing instinctively that he held the ability in his arsenal of thievery.

  “Never timed myself. Probably less than a minute.”

  “I need you to do it in ten seconds.”

  “Okay.” He didn’t sell it with a lot of confidence, but I knew he’d rise to the occasion. If nothing else, he was a professional and I knew his fear would fall away once we got moving. Standing here, wavering, only had him thinking.

  “Grab the bag.”

  He slung it over his shoulder and followed me into the bathroom. I wedged my feet against the rusty old window and busted the hinge loose from several coats of paint. He helped me slide it open. “The second you hit the ground, I want your arm around me and we’re the most-in-love couple anyone’s ever seen. Got it?”

  He grinned. “Yep!”

  I scrambled through the door and hit the sidewalk below, thankful that we’d ended up in the wrong room and not one on an upper floor. He landed behind me and his arm went around my shoulders and I curled into him, hiding my face. The people after us were looking for a two-man team, not a couple. Again, the difference was minute, but it mattered. I led him away from the truck and quickly through the courtyard of the dilapidated hotel, dodging benches and crumbling ashtrays.

  On the far side, I headed straight for an older, beige Honda Accord. Clay quickly jimmied the door and I scrambled inside, weapon drawn and scanning every shadow surrounding us.

  The engine fired and he pulled out of the parking lot. “Which way?”

  “Right. Get us as far as you can, then we’ll make a plan.” At the end of the block, I saw the first inconsistency move along the bright face of a neighboring storefront. “Shit! Gun it! And go left. Left!”

  He jammed his foot to the floor and the peppy car shot forward, startling the man hidden in the underbelly of a tall hedge that bordered the store. I didn’t want to shoot him, not out here in plain sight in the middle of the day, but leaving him alive was incredibly stupid and not a risk we could afford anymore.

  The little car’s wheels squealed as he cranked to the left and down a tight alley. The suspension shuddered as we hit a pothole. I whipped around and watched nervously as the man ran across the street chasing us, skirting parked cars and trash cans. I didn’t recognize him as the sunlight blinded me as we raced through the mottled light between buildings. His attack was all the recognition I needed.

  I twisted the other way, bending between the seats so I could get a better shot and sighted in on his forehead. “Go, go, go,” I shouted.

  “Where? Shit, this doesn’t go anywhere.”

  “Did you just head us down a dead end?” I couldn’t turn around and look. My heart pounded in my ears and my arms trembled.

  “I got this!” he shouted. “Settle down, settle down.” Clay was talking more to himself than to me but I had to trust him and his decisions.

  Do I take this guy out? I groaned. Leave a body in the middle of a street? Dammit. I did not want to do that. This was a worst-case scenario. If Clay could get us out of here… Fuck. That wasn’t true. No matter where he drove us, these guys would follow. They’d found us in the hotel and I’d never had that happen before. We were being chased by the best and I couldn’t leave one alive.

  Goddammit!

  I sighted again and took the shot, dropping our pursuer beside a dumpster. “Dammit.” I hated doing that but one alive was one who could keep coming after us. Azazel would send more, but at least for tonight, we’d lost our immediate tail. That didn’t mean there weren’t more. We’d have to stay vigilant.

  Clay skidded around a corner to the right, shooting us out into a busy roadway, nearly missing a truck and trailer. I searched the landscape to orient us, spotting the top of a building I knew. “Take your next left. Head toward the highway, then go south.”

  “Okay.” Clay checked all the mirrors, his fingers tight around the steering wheel. I holstered the gun and slumped in the seat, then put my seatbelt on. “We’re going to need to ditch the car. That bullet hole in the back window paints a little too much of an obvious target on us.”

  Clay’s eyes widened. “Did you kill him?”

  I clenched my teeth and nodded. I felt sick about it, even though technically it was self-defense. My gray line was shrinking and starting to blur and I didn’t like it. I’d had guys on my tail before and I’d chosen to outrun them because they weren’t part of the hit. Usually once I was out of their sight I was no longer a threat and they didn’t know how to find me. This time was different. This time they knew exactly where to find me. And out of sight was only going to make them more aggressive about hunting me. Hunting us.

  This was one enemy I couldn’t outrun. I didn’t know if our attacker tonight had been part of Clay’s buyer’s team or Azazel’s, but they were becoming impossible to tell apart.

  At the end of the day, everyone trying to kill us worked for Azazel.

  Chapter Nine

  We drove through neighborhoods and bustling industrial sections, quietly absorbed in our own thoughts. Mine skipped between what happened between Clay and I and killing that man. My comments were limited to directions as I guided Clay toward a MI6 training center. Along the way we traded the Accord for a blue Kia at a gas station, but even that had happened with a minimum of interaction between us. I’d thought about asking him what he was thinking about but couldn’t bring myself to draw him into either of my conversations.

  For variety, I thought about the facility and what training I wanted to put Clay through. There was a gun range and several side rooms with equipment and mats so we could work on throwing and hand-combat. I hadn’t been there in over four years, but it couldn’t have changed too much and I was fairly certain that they wouldn’t have gotten rid of it. One of the facilities best features was how well hidden it was. And as far as I knew it was the only one of its kind in the UK. The anonymity paired with the level of weaponry and security appealed to me a great deal r
ight now. We needed all those things.

  I squinted at the mile marker and tried to remember the back way so we could avoid any questions at the main gate. I was nearly positive that my security code still worked and we wouldn’t have any issues using the back entrance.

  “Take the next exit.”

  Clay made a face. “Are you sure this is an exit?”

  “Trust me.”

  He did and we got off the highway, having lost our tail for good back in town. I was a little surprised that Azazel hadn’t sent more than one man after us. That was twice now that he’d underestimated us. I didn’t imagine we’d have that luxury again, which was a lot of the reason that Clay needed to get lethal.

  The pavement quickly switched to dirt and Clay gave me a hesitant glance but kept driving. I didn’t remember the road being dirt, but it had been so long that it certainly could have been. After fifteen minutes, I started to think I’d gotten it wrong and just as I was about to tell Clay to turn around, we crested a short hill to find a tall chain-link fence and a security reader. He slowed and I scanned the horizon, but there wasn’t anyone visibly watching this gate even though I knew we were still on surveillance somewhere on the property. He rolled down the window and I leaned across, punching in my code. I sat back in my chair and waited. Every second felt like a minute until the gate finally swung open.

  “What is this place?”

  “It’s an underground training facility that the NSA and FBI both have access to. I haven’t been here for almost five years. Not only will we be safe, but you’ll be able to do some target practice while I keep researching the databases to see what I can find on your buyer. Take a left up here at the fork.” This would give me more intel than what I’d been able to find through the CIA, and hopefully things would start intersecting more than they had.

  The road bent around a hill and the abundance of trees thickened until we were nearly driving through a forest. A small blue-and-white shed recessed in the trees was the only indication of life.