Page 9 of Command and Control: GHOST Operative

I keep fanning with one hand and use the other to click through the information my program’s collected. It pings Vincent’s phone every hour, using the many satellites orbiting the earth to narrow his location down to within a few feet. That means he was here less than an hour ago.

In my home. Probably in this very room.

Technically, he could still be here.

My stomach falls through the floor at the possibility. I rush to the closet before I lose my nerve and fling open the doors, all the air rushing from my lungs when there’s no silver fox with a bad attitude glaring out at me.

One down.

I already know my room is clear. I’ve also been through the bathroom, so now I’ve covered the entire upper floor. That means if he’s here, he’s downstairs.

I force in a deep breath, but nearly gag on it. I don’t know if the nerves twisting my insides are fear or excitement. Probably a combination of both. Whatever the reason, I need to get them under control. I can’t finally get my eyes on the man I’ve been pursuing professionally—and maybe a little bit personally—only to barf on his boots.

Keeping my steps slow and silent, I creep to the stairs, making it halfway down before I realize the full extent of my predicament. I’m trying to sneak up on a quasi-government operative. In my fucking bathrobe.

Wearing nipple clamps.

Given the current circumstances, if Vincent did come here to offer me a job, he’s probably going to rescind it. I would.

But it’s too late to turn back now. So I keep moving, holding my breath, praying he’s not still here because, again, nipple clamps. The living area at the front of my unit is blessedly empty, along with the closet I should have hung my coat in. The last spot he could be is my kitchen.

I square my shoulders, clenching a little as my robe shifts the clamps, then jump around the corner, hoping for the element of surprise. If a wild woman wearing hot pink terry cloth and nipple clamps doesn’t surprise him, then nothing will.

But, like the rest of my condo, the kitchen is empty of all hard-jawed silver foxes.

“Well…” I look around, just in case I missed him somehow, but there’s no frowning Vincent anywhere. “That’s disappointing.”

He’s probably long gone at this point. I never expected to need more than hourly data, but maybe I should adjust my program to ping him every half hour. Maybe every fifteen minutes. I don’t want him sneaking up on—

My eyes fall to the counter and my heart skips a beat. An all-black business card sits on the chipped Formica surface. I swallow hard and reach for it, sliding it to the edge before picking it up and flipping it over. There’s a single word written on the back in perfect, block letters.

ONE

My lips press into a frown. Is he—

Is he counting at me like a child?

I lift the card to my nose, sniffing at it like a weirdo. Thank God I did because holy hell does it smell good. Earthy. A little like cedar with a hint of citrus. I always imagined him smelling good, but I gave up on finding out for sure months ago.

I guess I need to learn to be more patient.

I look the card over again before slipping it into my pocket, a smile teasing at my lips. I should not be smiling. A strange and dangerous man broke into my home. Walked around my private space and left me a warning. But now I’ve got the excitement I’ve been desperate for.

And I can’t wait to find out what happens when Vincent gets to three.

3

EVEN GHOSTS CAN BE KLEPTOS

VINCENT

I'D BEEN WATCHING Julieanne’s condo for nearly an hour when the Uber driver dropped her off. I caught a glimpse of curly dark hair through the gap between the buildings, managing to follow the first few steps of her slightly wobbly path toward the front door.

She was out of sight a few seconds before the lights on the first floor flicked on, illuminating the space. I smiled as she moved into the living room, toward her kitchen. But instead of making her way to the only sign I left of my presence, she dropped her purse and coat on the couch, kicked off her shoes and went upstairs.

It was fine. I could wait.

But then.

---