Page 8 of A Rhapsody of Ravens and Revenge

Cal knew there hadn’t been, but it was best to let Atticus think he was in the dark. He also knew she’d given a description to the sketch artist at the FBI, and between the artist’s skill and the advanced technology the FBI had access to, she’d come up with a pretty remarkable likeness. She’d been questioned extensively and sent home, and they’d promised to keep her name and the connection out of the public.

Cal had kept a close eye on Evangeline ever since he’d gotten her out of that nightclub in Russia ten years before. He knew everything about her—from how often she checked her email to the one lover she’d briefly had. He’d felt responsible for her the past ten years, to make sure she was living a life that her father could be proud of. But what he’d done was become responsible for killing the spirit that had made her one of the most formidable opponents he’d ever gone up against.

She’d changed her appearance. Gone was the flash and spark of the young woman who’d consumed his thoughts for months—no years—after that one encounter. She had a respectable job and lived a boring life. But she was safe. And that’s all that really mattered.

Atticus pushed the file across the table, but Cal didn’t pick it up. “A lot of speculation is all they have at this point. Biddle was Chairman for the Committee on Armed Services, and no telling what he was working on or who he was working with.”

“I can find out easy enough. It’s been a while since I hacked into the Department of Defense. I don’t want my skills to get rusty.”

“Yeah, what’s it been? A whole week?” The corner of his mouth tilted slightly. That was equivalent to a full-blown laugh for Atticus.

“Hey,” Cal said. “This is why you pay me the big bucks. It’s always good to know who our competitors are in this business.”

“And I appreciate it,” Atticus said deadpan. “As long as you don’t get caught and destroy my company and send me and all of the agents under my command to prison. I’d prefer not to have to kill you.”

“That’s the second time you’ve threatened to kill me today. You’re getting more violent in your old age. Have a little faith, man. I’m the best.”

Atticus shook his head. “Someone always comes along who’s better. It’s important to remember that. Otherwise you end up dead. Besides, to hear Gabe Brennan talk, the hacker kid he has working for him can run circles around anyone.”

He shrugged. “Nah, I’ve already checked him out and made his life interesting. He’s got some years to go before he one-ups me, so you can relax. He goes by the name Dragon, which is just stupid if you ask me.”

“I’m sure he’d love your input.”

Cal grinned unrepentantly and said, “I’ve already given it to him in my own special way. He’s good. Very good. But a little rough around the edges still. Gabe was smart to recruit him. He’s definitely someone we want working for the good guys.”

“Thanks for the office gossip.” Atticus grabbed a bottle of water from the little refrigerator built into his desk and tossed it to Cal before grabbing another for himself. “Maybe you could read the file and stop changing the subject. What are you, twelve?”

Cal unscrewed the cap and relaxed farther back into the chair, not touching the file. “Come on, Reaper. What is this really about? We both know what Robert’s agenda is here. He hasn’t had any luck pairing her off with one of his chosen bodyguards so he’s expanding his breeding pool a little. Though he’d probably blow a gasket if he knew you were planning on sending me. I don’t think Robert considers me son-in law material. Hell, even Julie’s parents threatened to disown her if she married me. They knew I was trouble the minute they met me. And it turns out they were right.”

Time had lessened the pain of Julie’s death, though it had hardened Cal in ways he’d never thought possible. Settling down wasn’t for everyone. Especially not someone who lived the life he had while in the CIA. He still wasn’t sure how he’d survived those years. How any of them had survived. And if he was honest with himself he never should have settled down with Julie. He hadn’t been ready for marriage. And the long hours, travel, and secrets had put a burden on their union from the start.

“You know, Cyph, of all the agents I’ve worked with, you’re the only one I’ve never been able to understand what the hell was going on inside your head. For someone with more brains in the tip of his fingers than most people will ever hope to have, you manage to underestimate and undervalue yourself. And when you underestimate and undervalue yourself, everyone else starts to believe it’s true.”

“Thanks for the advice, Pollyanna, but I’m just telling you the truth. I promise you that I would be the last choice Robert would pick to guard Evie. I’m not marriage material. He told me so after Julie died. He said men in our professions are better off being alone because we don’t bring anything but loneliness and heartbreak to the people who love us. And damned if I’ve ever forgotten those words.”

“The part of me that buried my wife would agree with you,” Atticus said. “But despite the hand that was dealt to me and Jane and our daughter, I would never trade a second of the life we shared together. That’s how rare and special it was. I appreciate that more than ever now.

“It’s about finding the woman that makes you a better man—a better agent—and complements your personality in ways you never imagined. The right woman will make you wonder how the hell you ever survived thirty-six years without her.”

Cal shook his head, the obvious pain and grief of Atticus’s face hard to look at. “What you and Jane had was special. She understood you in ways that even your own team didn’t. I wasn’t sure such a thing was possible. What you had was a one in a million shot. For the rest of us…let’s just say I won’t be calling a bookie to place a bet on lightning striking twice. Besides, I’d rather be hung up by my toenails than to go through all that again. Which is why I don’t want to be the sacrificial lamb to Robert’s matchmaking attempts.”

“This time I don’t think matchmaking is at the forefront of Lockwood’s agenda, Cyph. Someone trashed Evangeline’s townhome last night.”

Cal took a long drink of water and tried to get his racing heart under control. “Was she hurt?”

“Fortunately, she worked late and missed her train. She ended up staying overnight at Robert’s home. She had clothes there, so she went to work like any normal day, and then pulled up at her house a little before six o’clock this evening.”

Cal calculated the time difference. “That’s barely two hours ago. You work fast.”

“Nobody messes with Robert Lockwood’s daughter,” Atticus said. “He’s out for blood. Evangeline had a bad feeling the minute she opened her garage door. She told the responding officers something just felt off, so she decided to park street side instead of pulling in where she might get trapped before calling the police.”

“She’s got good instincts,” Cal said. “Robert raised her to be cautious.”

“With good reason. Her place wasn’t just trashed. It was gutted. Everything was destroyed. Shoes, clothes, pictures, dishes?—”

Cal didn’t move a muscle. His skin went cold and his grip on the arm of the chair was so tight he was surprised it didn’t snap off in his hand. He had to check the urge to make sure she was safe for his own peace of mind. Emotional reactions never solved any problems.

He’d learned to separate the emotion from logic and reason. He’d been accused on more than one occasion of being as much of a machine as the computers he worked on, but in his mind it was the only way to survive the atrocities he’d seen over the twenty years he’d spent in the bowels of covert ops.

---