"Excellent."
Damn him. Even knowing it would hurt, she prodded at him like she‘d picked at scabs as a kid. "Never seen you get so upset. Always thought you were so uber-cool."
Color surged into his face although his expression didn‘t change.
She pulled out the hard drive and the motherboard. Threw them on the fire. "Did you feel betrayed by your favorite agent?"
He gazed at the far wall, a muscle twitching in his cheek.
While checking over the house, she‘d found no info storage other than this room.
Information gone.
One bad guy left. She should deal with Vidal without a witness. Time to go back to sleep, boss.
She picked up the weighted nightstick and hesitated. Wells had been her recruiter, her handler and more.... He‘d trained her, been there for her when she needed him—although he‘d pretended it was duty. He‘d brought her junk food in hospitals with an expression of distaste, flown her back to the states against her wishes…just to make sure she was all right. Truly covert even in never showing that he cared.
It wasn‘t his fault Lachlan had turned her into a furball. In some ways, she had betrayed her boss. He was owed.
Damn the shifters and their fucking reciprocity law. Releasing a pained sigh, she knelt in front of Wells. With her K-Bar, she sliced through his bonds. So much for the easy part.
He didn‘t move, just lifted his eyebrows inquisitively.
"The kid you saw on tape—the one who bit me? Before he died in my arms, I made him two promises," she said softly. "I promised to inform his grandfather what had happened to him. I also gave my word not to tell anyone about the shifters. I did my damndest to discover whether they were a threat to humans or the U.S. If so, I‘d have told you, broken promise or not."
His eyes narrowed slightly. He was listening at least.
"I...I couldn‘t figure out how to uphold my obligations and still not betray the kid. I didn‘t…" She felt her lips quiver and firmed them immediately. "I never meant to hurt you.
You‘re—" After a breath, she managed, "You‘re more like a father to me than mine ever was."
His gaze lowered as he massaged his wrists.
Hell, she‘d tried. She rubbed her face dry and started to rise. Maybe someday he‘d get past—
"I loved a woman once."
She froze, and then slowly knelt again.
"I‘d just started in the CIA and was appallingly naïve. We lived together. I planned to marry her."
Unable to speak, Vic waited.
"I discovered… She was breaking into my briefcase every night. Selling information to the highest bidder. I confronted her, and she tried to kill me."
"Fuck."
His eyes were red, but the tiniest curve of a smile appeared on his lips. "Succinctly put."
"So you figured I‘d betrayed you too." She shook her head, warmth melting some of the ice surrounding her heart. "Gee thanks, sir."
On each side of the front door, the windows shattered inwards with a crash. Two mountain lions landed, blurred, and shifted into human form.
Alec. Calum.
Alec‘s breath caught as he stood upright. Vicki rose, her big brown eyes wide with shock.
The urge to take her into his arms and bury his face in her hair infuriated him. How pitiful could he get? Especially since he‘d watched her and her spy boss chatting away a minute ago. His mouth twisted bitterly. "Ms. Waverly. Now, why am I not surprised to see you here?"
Her flinch was as satisfying as it was painful.
After an impassive look around, Calum left to search the house. And probably to get away from Vicki.
Alec glanced at the corner where a tied-up man lay on the carpet. "That‘s Vidal?"
Vicki nodded, mouth pressed firmly into a line. Alec had traced his finger over those lips…
He winced away from the memory.
As he wandered around the room, he kept a wary eye on Vicki and the other man he wanted to kill. "Now what would a boss of spies be called?"
"The handler," the bastard said in a mild, somewhat snooty voice. Medium-height, lean like someone who naturally burns more than they eat, his expression seemed almost indifferent, but those clear blue eyes saw everything.
Over the smell of burned rubber, Alec caught the scent of distress from him—but no fear sweat. Too dumb to know his danger? Doubtful.
Calum came back in. "Nothing. What‘s in here?"
"Desk is empty. There‘s DVD and CD holders with no contents. Even the computer is gutted," Alec said. He knelt in front of the fireplace and stirred the contents with the poker.
Flakey ashes from paper, melted plastic stubs, a shriveled green plastic board, and a metal box—
probably from the computer also. He nodded at Calum, the beginnings of hope rising inside him.
Calum‘s eyes narrowed. He turned to Vicki, and power trickled through his voice. "Victoria, where is the information Vidal collected?"
She stiffened and shook her head…but answered, "I burned it."
"What happened to the information you were supposed to get your boss?" Calum asked mildly, although Alec could see the tension in his frame.
A flash of anger lit her face. "You jump to conclusions too fucking quickly. I‘d already turned him down."
Calum walked over to the handler. "Had she?"
The bastard didn‘t agree or disagree. It was like looking at a statue.
They were all across the room, talking. In the corner, out of sight behind the desk, Vidal shredded the last rope with the glass from the shattered windows. His hands had slickened with his own blood, but he was free.
The creatures could attack quickly; he knew that. Their talk covered the sound of his crawling and then he had it—the pistol under one of the chairs, right where the fucking agent had knocked it out of his grip. Still behind the desk, he straightened. "Don‘t move, assholes. Hands in the air."
They jerked around, faces turning hard when they saw the pistol. As they raised their hands, he studied his haul. One man, naked, kneeling by the fire, then the bitch Morgan a couple of feet away. The cold-faced CIA agent who‘d managed to
