Page 17 of Tracking Shadows

“Barely,” she mutters, brushing past me to grab another glass of water.

Her shoulder bumps mine, and the brief contact sends a jolt through me. I bite back a curse, keeping my face neutral.

“Hey, if I didn’t know better,” I say, leaning against the counter with a smirk, “I’d think you were worried about me.”

“Don’t flatter yourself,” she retorts, not even bothering to look at me. “I’m just worried you’re going to fuck up this mission with your reckless behavior.”

I snort, shaking my head. “Reckless? Me? I’m the picture of caution. I always have a plan.”

“Sure you do,” she says dryly. “And what’s the plan for today, then?”

I grin, enjoying the banter. It’s one of the few things that feels normal between us. “We scout the place out, find an entry point, and sneak in under the cover of darkness. Easy peasy.”

She finally turns to face me, her eyes narrowing. “And what about the guards? The cameras? The alarms? You think you’re just going to waltz in there and take whatever you want?”

I shrug again, keeping my tone light. “Pretty much, yeah. It’s worked before.”

“God, you’re infuriating,” she hisses, slamming the glass down on the counter. “This isn’t some fucking game, Alexei! If we mess this up, we’re both dead. Or worse.”

The tension in the room ratchets up a notch, and I know I’ve pushed her too far. But I can’t help myself. There’s something about getting under her skin that’s too tempting to resist.

“Relax, Irina,” I say, holding up my hands in mock surrender. “I know what I’m doing. You just need to trust me.”

She stares at me for a long moment, her jaw clenched, and I can see the battle going on behind her eyes. She wants to trust me—I can tell—but she’s too damn stubborn to admit it.

Finally, she lets out a frustrated growl, throwing her hands up in the air. “You’re impossible, you know that?”

I grin, taking a step closer to her, close enough to smell the faint scent of sweat and something else—something distinctly her. “You wouldn’t have it any other way.”

“Fuck you,” she snaps, but there’s no real heat in her words.

“Is that an invitation?” I quip, unable to resist.

She glares at me, her eyes blazing with anger. For a moment, I think she might actually hit me, and there’s a part ofme that almost hopes she does. Anything to break this tension between us, to see what happens when the sparks finally ignite.

But instead, she turns on her heel and storms out of the kitchen, leaving me standing there with my heart pounding and my body buzzing with unspent energy.

I let out a long breath, running a hand through my hair. “Well, that went well,” I mutter to myself, turning back to the stove. The food is probably cold by now, but I don’t really care. My appetite has vanished, replaced by a gnawing frustration that I can’t seem to shake.

I pick at the eggs, but my mind is elsewhere—on her. On the way she looked when she walked in, all raw power and grace, like a warrior fresh from battle. On the way she stared at me, like she was trying to decide whether to kiss or kill me.

I should be focusing on the mission, on the warehouse and whatever the hell Sergei is hiding there. But all I can think about is her. And it’s driving me fucking crazy.

The door to the kitchen slams open, and I look up to see Irina standing there, her chest heaving with barely contained rage.

“We need to talk,”

“Already covered that,” I say, trying to keep my tone light. “But sure, let’s talk. What’s on your mind?”

She takes a step closer, and I can see her hands clenched into fists at her sides. “This mission is serious, Alexei. We can’t afford to fuck it up.”

“I know that,” I reply, my voice softening. “I’m not trying to mess this up, Irina. I want to get Sergei just as much as you do.”

“Then why do you keep treating this like a joke?” she demands. “Why do you keep pushing my buttons, making light of everything?”

“Because it’s how I deal with this shit,” I admit, meeting her gaze head-on. “It’s how I keep from losing my mind.”

She stares at me, and for a moment, I think she might understand. But then her expression hardens, and she shakes her head.

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