Out of the Shadows (Tangled Ivy #3) (22 page)

Okay, alcohol was bad, true, especially in copious amounts. But nothing beat it as a tool that got men like Devon to open up. Men who kept things to themselves, who didn’t discuss feelings and instead carried everything around, locked deep inside. So at the moment, I couldn’t be too upset that he’d been drinking. Not if I’d hear what he was really thinking and feeling . . . things he’d keep from me in an effort to protect me.

“I don’t deserve you,” he said.

“Wait, hold on,” I interrupted. “That’s total crap, Devon. You know that, right? Why in the world would you say such a thing?”

“The things I’ve seen . . . the things I’ve done. Too much . . .” His voice trailed away, and he glanced around, as though just then realizing the bartender had left.

With a shrug, he pushed himself up and over the bar, grabbing one of the bottles of bourbon and setting it down. With a quick twist of his wrist, the bottle opened and he grabbed a tumbler. I watched him pour in two fingers worth of the amber liquid.

“What do you mean, Devon?” I asked. “What kinds of things?” I couldn’t help it. I was curious. Devon never
ever
discussed missions he’d been on or what he’d done. The temptation now to learn was too strong to pass up.

“I’ve killed so many,” he said grimly. He turned and his blue gaze was fierce on mine. “And I will never . . .
never
. . . tell you how many.”

I swallowed at his vehemence even as sympathy rose in me. He lifted the glass and took a large swallow.

“This is undoubtedly the gods’ way of meting out justice,” he mused. “Not that I can blame them. Much more satisfying than killing me outright, is it not? Torturing me instead with the pain of something almost within my grasp.”

“Don’t say such things,” I said. “You’re a good man. You’ve just had to do some bad things in the name of protecting the innocent.”

“No one is innocent. Not really. All have sinned . . .”

He was staring into the mirror behind the bar, the look on his
face so tortured and filled with regret, I couldn’t stand it.

I leaned against Devon’s shoulder and slid an arm around his waist.
“I’m tired,” I said, hoping to distract him. “We should go to bed.”

“You go on ahead, darling,” he said, finally looking away from his reflection in the mirror. “I’ll be up shortly.” He refilled his glass.

I snatched it from him and tossed the shot back. If I thought the gin was bad, the whiskey burned a blazing trail of fire down into my belly. I noticed Devon’s eyes following the movement of my throat as I swallowed.

“I’m not going without you,” I said, reaching down to untie the robe. I slipped it down my arms and let it fall around me. “I’d really like you to take me to bed, Devon.” I gave him as seductive a look as I was capable.

The Look came into his eyes. The kind of look I’d become quite familiar with over the time we’d been together. It was lust and affection tinged with urgency and passion. I loved when he looked at me like that. It made me feel wanted, desirable—a woman clear to my bones.

“I don’t think I can make it to the bedroom, my love.”

My heart sank. He couldn’t walk. What room had Beau said he was in? I’d have to call him to come help me get Devon back upstairs.

“I just can’t wait that long,” he continued, breaking into my frantic thoughts as he picked me up, his hands circling my waist, and set me on the bar in front of him.

The granite was cold on the backs of my bare thighs. He settled his hands on my knees, spreading them.

“Take off the shirt.”

I didn’t think to disobey, my eyes transfixed on him and the way he was looking at me. My fingers moved to the buttons, undoing them clumsily. He watched me, his gaze burning my flesh as each inch of skin was revealed.

I wore panties, but no bra. The chill of air brushed my breasts, tightening my nipples into hard points. Devon parted the shirt but didn’t remove it. I sucked in my breath as his hands settled on my waist.

“Lift,” he murmured, tugging on my panties. I squirmed as he tugged the garment down and off my legs, spreading my thighs again.

It wasn’t as bright as daylight in the bar, but there was plenty of light, and I felt a blush stain my cheeks as he gazed between my legs. I saw his Adam’s apple move up and down as he swallowed hard. I was wet already, getting wetter and needier by the moment as he stared at my body.

He placed a hand on my abdomen, pushing me back. I leaned back, resting on my elbows. His palm trailed down my stomach, flat against my skin. He was darker than I was, my skin a pale shade of ivory compared to his sun-kissed tan.

Devon leaned down, putting his mouth between my legs with no preliminaries whatsoever. I gasped at the sensation. The sight of him doing this to me was almost more erotic and intimate than the act itself. He pushed my thighs farther apart, then slid a thick finger inside me as his tongue flicked hard against my clit.

I couldn’t keep my eyes open any longer, and they slammed shut, my head falling back as Devon kissed me with unreserved passion, marking my body as his possession. My fingers were in his hair, holding him to me. Moans and cries fell from my lips as my orgasm crashed over me. He knew just the right way to touch me, prolonging my pleasure until I couldn’t take any more.

Tugging on his hair, I pulled him up so I could kiss him. My legs circled his chest and he pulled me closer to him, scooting me to the edge. I heard the sound of metal clanking as he undid his belt, but I was too consumed with his tongue in my mouth to pay much attention. I wanted him, and didn’t particularly care that we were in a public place. No one was around. That was all that mattered.

Devon picked me up, carrying me to one of the tables, which was a much more suitable height for what we both had in mind. He lay me down and I grasped his cock, hard and thick between us, guiding it into me.

It was sweet relief and intoxication, being with him like this. His urgency and passion fueled the fire between us. His lips on mine, his hands gripping my hips, holding me. He possessed me utterly, as he had from the first time we’d been together. I was his. Would be only his.

Sweat covered his skin like a thin blanket and I pushed my fingers through his hair, reveling in the damp strands as he made love to me with a desperation I knew had been fueled by the alcohol and bad memories. I didn’t mind being his solace and comfort. I wanted it. Wanted to be able to provide that to him. I didn’t know and couldn’t possibly understand everything he’d seen and done. But this . . . this I could give and maybe it would be enough to comfort him.

He kissed my throat, licking the skin there. I lifted my hips to meet his thrusts. He made a noise, deep in his throat, moving faster and harder, which was just fine with me. I could feel myself hovering on the edge and I tried to hold back, waiting for him.

When his fingers tightened on me, I knew he was close and I couldn’t hold back any longer. Waves of pleasure spiraled out from where we were joined, like ripples from a stone thrown into a pool of water. I could feel my body clutching at his. He gasped, groaning as his orgasm was ripped from him. I knew I might have bruises tomorrow from his fingers, but I didn’t mind.

He rested on top of me, his chest heaving from exertion. I could feel his heart hammering against my chest and I didn’t know if it was my pulse or his. I held him to me, my arms and legs circling him, until he pulled back slightly and looked in my eyes.

Brushing the hair back from my face, he said, “Don’t think I don’t know what you’re doing.”

I was silent, gazing back into the blue of his eyes.

“And I thank you.”

I smiled a little as he brushed a kiss to my forehead. He seemed more sober now, not that he’d behaved all that drunkenly before. It amazed me. How his body processed alcohol the way it did, I had no idea.

He pulled me up and we spent a few seconds righting our clothing, then he held the robe so I could slip my arms into the sleeves.

No one was around when we came out of the bar, the lobby area completely deserted. Taking my hand, Devon pulled me close as we rode the elevator to our floor and meandered down the hallway to our room. I loved when he did this, touching me as we walked, his arm around me and his lips by my ear, alternatively whispering to me and kissing my neck.

We undressed each other and climbed under the covers. He wrapped his arms around me and I smiled. Yes, I was still sick and the future looked bleak. But the here and now? Well, the here and now was pretty darn good. I fell asleep listening to the sound of Devon’s slow, steady breathing.

And when I woke in the morning, he was gone.

A
t first, it didn’t occur to me that he was actually gone. I assumed he’d gone downstairs for coffee or breakfast or goodness knows what. So I showered and dressed, ignoring the ache in my head that boded ill. It wasn’t until I stepped into the little restaurant attached to the hotel and saw Beau and Alexa sitting alone together that a frisson of alarm went through me.

“Good morning,” I said, sliding into the empty chair next to Beau. I was trying to ignore what my gut was telling me. “Have you seen Devon?”

I could sense immediately from the looks on their faces that it was bad.

“What?” I asked. “What is it? Where is he? Is he all right?” My hands gripped the edge of the table, my body wanting to jump and do something, go find him—but I didn’t know where to start looking.

“I’m sure he’s fine,” Alexa said. Oddly phrased, considering.

“Why do you say it like that?” I asked. “Where is he?”

“He left,” Beau said. I swung my gaze to his. “Earlier this morning.”

I swallowed hard, trying to get a grip on my emotions so I wouldn’t either burst into tears or throw one of the heavy mugs of coffee on the table. I couldn’t decide if I was furious or heartbroken. Probably both.

“And where did he go exactly?” I was proud of how controlled my voice was.

“He went to find Vega.”

My hands clenched into fists. “Why? Why would he do that? What if she decides to kill him?”

“I don’t think she’ll kill her own flesh and blood,” Alexa said, though she didn’t sound one hundred percent sure. “I mean, she hasn’t yet.”

That wasn’t very comforting.

“He went to try and get her to give me more medicine, didn’t he,” I said, and it wasn’t a question. That was the only thing that would’ve made Devon leave my side. Nothing else.

Alexa glanced at Beau, then back at me. “I think so, yes.”

I covered my face with my hands and just breathed. I was so angry I wanted to spit nails. And I clung to that feeling. I didn’t want to feel hurt or hopeless.

After a moment, I had control and I put my hands down. Took a deep breath.

“I want to talk to her.”

“To who? Vega?” Beau looked appalled. “No fucking way. She wants you dead, Ivy. Is at this moment making sure you die slowly and in pain. The only thing you’ll achieve by talking to her is a quicker death.”

“I don’t think so,” I said. “I have an idea. Now how do we find her?”

“No, I’m not—” Beau started, but Alexa interrupted.

“Why can’t she?” she asked. “It’s her life, her decision.”

I was surprised at the support . . . and the source.

“You have no say in this,” Beau retorted. “I’m in charge here.”

“Oh, really?” Alexa’s eyes narrowed. “You’re
in charge
?”

“Yeah,” he said, doubling down.

More irritated than amused at their bickering, I demanded, “One of you tell me how to find her.”

That shut them both up. Beau gave Alexa a belligerent look, then waved his hand like
Go on then, tell her
.

“Vega has her own headquarters for the Shadow, north of here, at Cape Wrath.”

“Cape Wrath?” Yeah, that didn’t sound intimidating or anything. I’d bet dollars to donuts it was exactly where Devon was headed.

“The military sometimes uses the area for training,” Alexa explained. “But the Shadow built underground there. It’s pretty remote.”

“Then that’s where I’m going.” I signaled the waiter for a cup of coffee because hot on Devon’s trail or not, I needed the caffeine.

“You can’t go alone,” Alexa said. “Not in your condition. I’ll come with you.”

“The hell you are!”

Beau’s outburst had Alexa’s gaze spitting fire at him again.

“Pardon me, Mister I’m-In-Charge,” she said. “Was I supposed to ask your permission first?”

“You’re in the custody of the CIA,” he said. “You can’t just get up and leave.”

“I’m only in your custody because I’m allowing it,” she sneered. “I want to take Vega down as much as you do, and I’m not going to stand idly by and let the child go by herself.”

Whoa there, hold on. Did she just call me a child? But even as I opened my mouth, Beau was arguing with her.

“So even though she’s put numerous hits out on you, you’re just going to waltz right in there,” he said.

“Americans waltz. I prefer the silent approach.”

“You—”

“Enough!” I said, holding up my hands, palms out. “Enough of your arguing!” I looked at Alexa. “You know the way, so you’re taking me.” I looked at Beau. “And we’re doing this partly for the CIA. So shouldn’t you get some backup and come riding to the rescue in the nick of time?”

He didn’t look pleased, but he nodded. “I can see what I can do.”

“Okay then. Now I’m going to finish my coffee”—I dumped some cream in the mug the waitress had just set down in front of me—“then we’ll get our things and head out.”

“You have no idea what you’re getting in to,” Beau said, glancing from her to me.

“Probably not, but I have no choice.”

Devon was out there, and we weren’t going down without a fight.

I had one call to make before I left and I made it quickly, from my room. Once that was done, I met Alexa in the lobby.

“You’d better wear this,” she said, handing me a heavy jacket. “It’s cold up there.”

Beau had already gone so it was just her and me.

“We need to rent a car or something,” I said, glancing around the lobby for the desk clerk. He’d probably be able to tell us how to do that.

“No need,” Alexa said, hoisting her duffel bag on her shoulder. “Follow me.”

Curious, I followed her outside. It was a gray day, no sunshine, and the air smelled damp. There was a definite chill in the air and I was glad for the jacket.

“You have a car already?” I asked, glancing around. I didn’t see one idling at the curb, just several parked along the narrow road.

“Something like that.” She headed for a nicer sedan, slightly larger than most of the cars. “This one will do.” Reaching into her pocket, she took something out that I couldn’t see. Standing in front of the driver’s side door, she fiddled until the lock clicked. Pulling open the door, she hit the locks. “Get in.”

I knew what she was doing and wanted to say something, but Devon was waiting. So I clamped my lips shut and got in. In seconds, she had started the engine.

“How are you doing that?” I asked. It was one of those keyless entry cars. You had to have a key in the passenger compartment for it to start.

She showed me what she was holding. It was smaller than her palm and there were several lights blinking.

“It’s a transmitter,” she said. “It sends thousands of signals per second to the car until it finds the right one that’ll do the trick. A little pricey, but worth it when I’m in a bind.”

“How much head start does Devon have on us?” I asked.

“A couple of hours.”

“How long will it take to get there?”

“All fucking day.”

Nice.

It took more patience than I thought I had to endure the hours we drove. Eventually, the silence and uncertainty of what awaited Devon—and us—got to me. So I tried to make conversation.

“You never did say why you didn’t send Devon back in a body bag, too,” I said, recalling Devon’s story about finding Alexa.

“I’d had enough,” she said with a shrug. “Killing people gets easier, but it wears on you. And Devon was such an ignorant sap, in the dark about so many things. I took pity on him.”

I didn’t think Devon would like it very much if he knew Alexa had taken pity on him.

“I hope you don’t mind me saying this,” I began, “but . . . you don’t look like much of an assassin. You’re just so . . . little.”

Alexa glanced at me and grinned. “I know. Makes it so much easier sometimes. People don’t expect it. And there are more ways of killing than brute force. I’m pretty adept at them all. Besides, people don’t want to believe I’m an assassin sent to kill them, even when it’s obvious. They’d rather believe a lie than the truth, though it’s staring them in the face.”

“That’s kind of a universal truth, though, isn’t it?” I said. I was trying everything I could to keep my mind off Devon, but it was hopeless.

“What will we be able to do when we get there?” I asked. “If she’s going to kill him, it won’t be right away, will it?”
Please tell me no
, though logically I understood she couldn’t possibly know.

“I thought you had a plan,” she said, frowning as she glanced at me yet again. I wished she’d keep her eyes on the road. It twisted and turned, the heavy clouds obscuring the sun as a light mist began to fall.

“I do, but not on how to get inside. I was hoping you’d know how to do that. Once we’re in, I can talk to her.”

“You’re planning on talking to her?” Alexa asked in disbelief. “That’s your big plan?”

“What did you think I was going to do?” I snapped back, stung. “It’s not as though I’m some kind of tiny, freak assassin.”

“Watch it, Beauty Queen. I’ll dump your skinny ass on the side of the road and not look back.”

I bit my tongue, not just because I thought she’d do it—she totally would—but it wasn’t her causing me to be snappy and on edge.

“I’m sorry,” I said. “I’m so worried about Devon . . . and so pissed off, I want to kill him myself.”

“Yeah, I’d be pretty fucking pissed, too,” she said. “I told him not to go, that he was making the wrong decision. But like a typical man, he wouldn’t listen.”

“So how do you get by?” I asked. “Do you just . . . freelance now?” I didn’t know what other euphemism to use for:
So hey, do you hire yourself out to kill people?

“I don’t kill people anymore, if that’s what you’re asking,” she said. “I work in intelligence.”

“Intelligence?”

She looked at me like I was a total idiot.

“I’m a spy. I specialize in honey traps.”

My eyes widened. I’d seen enough movies to know what they were. A woman finds a target, gets him to sleep with her, and uses pillow talk to find out classified information. I was shocked, but tried not to show it.

Alexa laughed, the sound slightly bitter. “Yeah, that’s the usual reaction. Believe it or not, it’s harder than it looks. It’s the oldest trick in the book, so the high-profile targets—the ones who really have the information you want and aren’t just spouting bullshit to make themselves look more important than they really are—they’re trained on how to spot it. So it’s quite difficult to get them to trust me enough to talk.”

“I can’t imagine . . .” I said, looking at her in a whole different way. Not a bad way, because I thought she was probably right. “Sex,” I said. “A woman’s greatest weapon, or so I’d been told. Difficult to wield, though, without being hurt yourself.” I watched her closely and could tell I’d hit a sore spot because she winced, ever so slightly.

She shrugged. “Some things are worth being hurt for.”

I sensed she wasn’t going to say anything more about it, so I changed the subject.

“Beau seems to really like you.”

She looked at me, her expression one of disbelief. “You’ve got to be kidding me!” she said with a small laugh. “He hates me. He knows exactly what I do and it disgusts him.”

I’d seen the way Beau had looked at Alexa, at how he’d touched her when she was hurt, and disgust was the furthest thing from his mind.

“I don’t think so,” I said slowly, wondering at how she could possibly not see it when her livelihood depended on her ability to read men.

“Trust me. I know.”

I didn’t want to argue with her—after all, it’s not like it was my business.

“How much further?” I asked. Night was falling. It had been hours since we’d eaten, but instead of hunger my stomach was churning with anxiety and nausea.

“Well, we could park and walk the last couple of miles . . .”

I looked outside at the mist, which had transformed into rain, at the dark and forbidding landscape, and the utter lack of civilization. Then back at Alexa.

“Yeah, it was just a thought,” she said. “We’ll drive right on up to the front door. We won’t have to wait long for them to take us in, though I do hope they ask questions before they start shooting . . .”

Yeah, me, too.

It took another thirty excruciating minutes for us to reach the end of the road. And by “end of the road,” it was literally the end of anything you could drive on. There was a one-story building on our right, and straight ahead was a lighthouse, its strobe light turning slowly and sending its ray through the darkness. At its base was a small structure, not big enough to be a home but large enough to hold one person comfortably.

“You ready for this, Beauty Queen?”

I didn’t know why she persisted in calling me that, but it irritated me, and perhaps that was her intent: to get my mind off worrying and fear, and to focus. Because nothing quite made someone focus like being angry.

“I’m ready to save Devon, then kick his ass,” I said.

She grinned. “I am totally on board with that.”

Alexa drove the last couple of hundred yards and pulled to a stop. I reached for the door handle as she turned off the engine, but the door flew open. Dark figures cloaked in black stood outside and I had no idea where they’d come from. I hadn’t seen them when the headlights had bounced over the landscape. But I could see them now . . . as well as the long assault rifles they held, several of which were pointed at me.