Page 3 of A Rhapsody of Ravens and Revenge

The woman with him must have been his perfect match because her torso, neck, and face were similarly tattooed. She wore a black mesh shirt, short leather skirt, and black combat boots.

Weirdly enough, Cypher felt right at home at clubs like this one. He’d always had more of an edge than the others. He shifted as quietly as he could, but still the elevator ceiling creaked beneath him. The couple didn’t notice as the bass thumped hard enough to rattle the walls, and his own heart was pounding along with the beat.

His legs were asleep and his laptops were strategically placed on the reinforced beams. The computers were Velcroed down, but still they jostled as the elevator came to a stop on the fourth floor. The doors opened and the couple stepped out into wall-to-wall bodies. The smell of sweat assaulted his senses along with the underlying sickly sweetness of marijuana.

“It’s a good thing I don’t get motion sickness,” he said as the elevator once again made its way to the bottom floor.

“That’s the least of your problems,” Warlock said. “This building is so far past fire code that you’d burn to death before you could get out of that metal death trap and through all the bodies in there.”

“As always, War, you’re just like Santa Claus with your cheery goodness.”

The elevator doors opened again and a laughing couple stood at the doors, ready to get on, but at the last second the girl wiggled out of his arms and spoke quickly in Russian, letting him know she’d meet him back at the bar after she found the restroom. The guy squeezed her arm and gave her a kiss before drunkenly making his way back toward the bar and another drink.

The girl hit the button for the third floor and then leaned back against the wall. She was a curvy little thing, fitting just right into a black leather skirt with silver studs that barely covered her. Leather boots came to just above her knees and her cleavage was nicely displayed in a leather bustier. Her hair was short and white blond and slicked back from a face he still hadn’t gotten a look at, but if it matched her body it would be spectacular.

It was almost too late by the time the hairs on the back of his neck stood up. The elevator picked up speed and they flew right past the third floor that had been her original destination. She looked up at him through the grated ceiling and gave him a grin that made his blood run cold. She couldn’t see him, but she knew he was there.

But he could sure see her. And the face did match the body. Unfortunately, it was a face he recognized. He’d know those stunning violet eyes anywhere. They’d always unnerved him, too large and serious to belong to a child. But she sure as heck wasn’t a child now. She’d grown into those eyes.

The floors zipped by and his pulse scrambled as they passed the fourth, then fifth floor. She’d overridden the hold he had on the elevator to stop.

“Hell,” he whispered, even as he slammed his computers closed, hoping the information inside of them would be saved on impact.

He was going to die. An agent the government would never claim, killed in the line of duty, crushed in an elevator shaft halfway across the world.

“Cypher,” Gabe commanded. “What’s happening?” A man like Gabe Brennan didn’t panic. He was ice.

“She’s in the elevator,” he said quickly. He rolled flat and used his fist to punch through the flimsy metal ceiling panels just as the elevator jerked to a stop a few feet from the spinning turbine.

He went ass over elbow into the elevator, along with his laptops and the rest of the ceiling, but he rolled to his feet quickly in case she tried to finish him off before she saw his face. His computers were toast, and that pissed him off all the more.

If it had been anyone else in this situation he would’ve laughed, but he wasn’t finding anything funny at the moment. If everyone came out of this alive and with their jobs intact they’d be lucky.

She leaned against the corner of the elevator, out of the way of the debris, as if she hadn’t a care in the world, a smirk on her full lips and her gaze buried in the tablet-like device in her hand as she issued it commands. A device that was still in the prototype phase and wasn’t out on the consumer market yet. He had one very similar to it. And he wondered where she’d been hiding it because there was barely breathing room in that outfit she wore.

He took the comm unit from his ear and dropped it on the ground, crushing it beneath his heel. He’d never sacrificed the mission for anyone or anything before. But he was about to break that rule. Because he owed one man his life.

She didn’t bother looking at him, and he wondered where she’d gotten the balls to stand there like the stakes were too small to mess with. He would’ve admired her for it if he hadn’t been so furious.

“You’ve been out of play for too long, Cypher. You’re nosing your way into someone else’s game,” she said in Russian. “I expected much more from someone with your reputation, but it’s clear your day is over. You lose. I’ll see you down to the bottom floor so you can make your way out.”

She leaned forward to press the button to go back down, but he reached up and grabbed her arm. He wanted to shake some sense into her, and he couldn’t remember the last time he’d been so angry he was trembling with rage. Her head came up and her mouth opened to spew something at him, but she finally got a good look at his face. And all of the color left hers.

He didn’t give her a chance to work her magic on her device, but instead jerked it out of her hand and took her by the arm like a willful child. She was a willful child. What was she? Eighteen? Twenty? And when he saw the fear on her face he realized how little she knew about the kind of game she was playing.

He hit the door open button on the control panel and then pulled her into the cavernous sixth floor, quickly jamming the elevator door so no one else could use it.

Cold drafts of air blew from one side of the floor to the other. Some of the windows were missing and large sheets of plastic were tacked over them, rattling and flapping beneath the piercing wind. He welcomed the cold air as it blasted his overheated body.

“You’ve got about five minutes to explain to me why I should save you. You have got to be out of your mind, Evie.” The angrier he got the more pronounced his Lowcountry accent. You could take the boy out of South Carolina…

She flinched at the use of her name, but straightened her shoulders and tried to jerk out of his hold. He had an even bigger urge to cover her up. She’d changed a lot since the last time he’d seen her. And he wasn’t altogether comfortable with it.

Sweat glistened across her skin even though puffs of white from the cold escaped her mouth. Her pulse fluttered in her neck and he could see the fear in her expression. But she didn’t back down. She’d always had more attitude than common sense. Because he was really, really pissed, and that defiant tilt of her chin was close to sending him right over the edge.

“I’m twenty years old. You’re not my keeper, Cal.”

“You sure as hell need one, sugar. What is your father going to say? You’re not only bringing yourself down, but you’re ruining the career and legacy of one of the best men I’ve ever known. So start explaining yourself.” He let her go and then stood with his legs slightly spread and his arms crossed over his chest.

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