Page 9 of A Rhapsody of Ravens and Revenge

“And none of the neighbors heard or saw anything? She’s got houses on both sides and neighbors across the street. It’s a safe neighborhood.”

Cal finally reached for the file Atticus had pushed toward him. There was no turning back now. Despite his vow to stay out of her life, he knew it wasn’t a vow he had any intention of keeping. She was going to be pissed. But her safety came first.

“None of the door-to-doors came up with unusual cars or strangers in the area. The police have virtually nothing to go on. Despite the damage that was done to her house, it was a very well-executed plan. She’d be dead if she hadn’t missed her train.”

Cal’s head snapped up at that bit of information. “What are you leaving out?”

Atticus’s mouth tightened and his eyes went stone cold. “When the police entered the residence there was blood everywhere. The neighbor’s cat was slaughtered and a message left on the wall in blood. Whoever murdered Senator Biddle knows Evangeline can identify him. The media posted the artist’s drawing along with her name as the eyewitness. No one knows who leaked the information.”

“Of course not.” Cal’s blood boiled. He’d never had much use for the media, but deliberately risking someone’s life for the sake of a story wouldn’t be tolerated. If Atticus didn’t find out where the source came from then he sure as hell would.

“What did the message say?” Cal asked.

“It said, ‘You’re next.’ There were no prints, fibers, or hairs left on scene. As soon as Robert was notified, local PD was pulled out and the FBI was brought in. Their crime scene people were thorough. Take a look at the computer rendering of Senator Biddle’s shooter.”

Cal flipped through the file until he saw the sketch. “You’re kidding me. That’s Victor Taber. That scar on his forehead is unmistakable.” He looked at the image a little closer just to be sure, but it was Taber. Eyes, black and soulless, stared back at him, and a jagged scar in the shape of a sickle was just over his left eye. Hell.

Cal closed the file and stood up, already heading for the door. Time was of the essence. He wasn’t sure he’d ever experienced such heart-pounding fear as he had when he realized who was after Evangeline.

“Who’s watching Evie now? God, Atticus, Taber could put a bullet through her head before anyone knew there was a threat.”

“Relax, I’ve got men on her,” Atticus assured him. “And Robert is with her. They’re travelling to that giant pink compound in Florida. She’ll be safe and well guarded until you get there.”

“And then what? She’s got a professional hit man out for her. One of the best any of us has ever seen. Has Taber ever missed an intended target?”

He squared off against Atticus and folded his arms across his chest, waiting for an answer. Atticus didn’t move from behind his desk. He leaned back in his chair and picked up a pen, rolling it between his fingers.

“Tell me, Reaper. Has Taber ever missed a target?”

“You know he hasn’t,” Atticus finally said. “He’s the best there is. But so are we. I don’t hire anyone less than the best.”

“What does Evangeline know?”

“Nothing about Taber and the level of danger she’s in. As far as she’s concerned it’s a vendetta against her as a witness. For that matter, Lockwood doesn’t know about Taber either. Taber’s professional work started a couple of years after Robert retired from the CIA, so he’s an unknown entity.”

“She’s going to resist, you know,” Cal said. “She’s headstrong and stubborn on her best days. The last thing she’s going to want is my protection. Especially my protection. She hates my guts.”

“Are you saying you can’t handle her?” Atticus asked, his brow quirked curiously.

Cal blew out a breath. “That’s not what I’m saying. I can handle her just fine. She’s just not going to like it.”

“As long as she stays alive she doesn’t have to like it. And you can make her love you again. You’ve been known to pull out the charm when you want. Must be that South Carolina drawl that makes women turn to putty in your hands.”

Atticus went back to whatever he’d been working on before their meeting and Cal knew he’d been dismissed. He headed toward the door, running through the argument he and Evie were sure to have the moment she realized he was going to be her bodyguard, and wondering how he was going to keep her safe. Taber was batting a thousand in assassination attempts.

“Oh, and Cyph,” Atticus said. “Maybe someday you’ll fill me in on what really happened on that mission in Russia. Evangeline didn’t always hate you.”

Cal didn’t turn back. Atticus always saw more than a person intended—could infer more from a look or a hesitation than most people could get from a full written confession. It was one of his gifts.

Instead Cal kept walking, the decision already made to make things right between him and Evie. Because there was no way he could be that close to her and keep his feelings to himself. He’d fallen hard for her, and she’d haunted his dreams ever since. He’d married Julie in the hopes of forgetting Evangeline. It hadn’t worked, and he’d always feel guilty for pulling an innocent woman into a game she’d never agreed to.

But Evangeline was his future. And it was time to put the past where it belonged.

Chapter Four

Robert Lockwood considered himself a patient man. He’d headed the CIA for a decade, overseen countless ops, and dealt with politicians without bloodshed. Surely that made him qualified enough to deal with his daughter.

“Evangeline,” he said. “You’re overreacting. Take a deep breath and sit down. This isn’t at all how I taught you to respond during a high-tension situation. Emotions cloud logic and have no place during a mission.”

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