Page 11 of War Games

Mila’s fingers click across her keyboard, and I shake my head, already knowing that she’s not about to find anything on this girl. She’s too young, and with a common name like Shadow, it would be impossible to filter through the millions of hits.

Reaching my private villa, I pull my car into the small driveway and cut the engine before jamming my phone under my ear. Mila groans and sighs, getting more and more frustrated at not being able to find a scrap of information on this young girl.

“She’s practically a ghost.”

“With a name like Shadow, are you really surprised?” I ask, grabbing my bags from the back of my car before striding up the short path toward the front door. “She’s probably got some kind of Black Widow story and is a trained assassin for some secret government agency.”

Mila barks out a laugh. “Really?”

“Hey! It could happen.”

I can practically hear her rolling her eyes through the phone. “Secret government agency or not, I’ll keep searching and see if I can come up with anything. Either way, the War Games are no place for a child. You need to keep an eye out for her. They’ll target her assuming she’s inexperienced, and I know she’s technically your competition, but you and I both know you’ll never be able to live with yourself if something happens to that kid. You need to protect her.”

“If I can somehow track her down, that’s exactly what I’ll do, but something tells me she’s not as inexperienced as most would assume. There’s something in her eyes. She’s seen shit no child should ever have to see. I think she’s more of a threat than anybody could expect. Except for Reaper, of course.”

“Just keep an eye out for her . . .or on her,” she says as I reach the front door and have to adjust the bags in my hands to be able to type in the passcode—the same one I entered at the front gate.

The door opens, and I break into the small villa. Even with the lights out and nothing but the soft moonlight streaming through the window, I can already tell it’s more than enough for what I need. And I don’t mean because it boasts a state-of-the-art kitchen with brand-new flooring, and every luxury amenity a woman could need. And by amenities, I mean the prime location of the front door, the back one, and the countless windows in every room that offer me an easy escape route from anywhere inside. The structure itself is sturdy enough to protect me from gunfire, and the open layout of the kitchen and living areas makes it almost impossible for anyone to get the drop on me.

“It’s perfect, right?” Mila says, always so proud of herself.

I quickly glance back, scanning the darkness outside and double and triple checking that no one has followed me here before locking the door behind me. “It’s as though you know me or something.”

She laughs again, and a stupid smile pulls at the corner of my lips. I’m not usually the smiling type, but there’s something about Mila that always makes me smile. She’s gifted that way, and I wouldn’t change a thing about her.

Making my way deeper into the villa, I drop my bags into the small bedroom while quickly glancing around the room, and just like the rest of the villa, I can’t possibly fault it. I’ll be able to sleep peacefully in here. And from the looks of the bed, comfortably as well.

“So, that’s it?” Mila asks. “No other bombs to drop on me about your night?”

I can’t help but laugh. “I mean, there might be one . . . or possibly two more bombs you don’t know about yet.”

She sucks in an audible breath. “You better not be holding out on me.”

“Wait,” I say. “Three. There are three bombs.”

“Siren!”

I laugh to myself as I take the phone from my ear, put it on speakerphone, and drop it to the bed so that I can rummage through my bags for my favorite silk pajamas. “Well,” I start. “343 . . .”

Mila sucks in an audible gasp. “The Tech Guy?” she demands. “He’s one of the contestants?”

A stupid grin rips across my face. Mila has been crushing on this guy for years. Though considering she’s never seen his face, I can only assume it’s his skills she’s attracted to. “He sure is,” I tell her. “But I don’t understand how he thinks he could possibly have a chance at winning this thing. I mean, sure. He’ll have a better chance of tracking the contenders than most, but he’s actually pretty scrawny. He doesn’t strike me as the type to be able to hold his own when it comes down to it.”

“Shit,” she says with a heavy sigh. “You’re going to have to kill him.”

“Yeah . . . sorry. Unless somebody else beats me to him, of course.”

“Damn. I was really hoping that behind the screen, he’d be this really awesome guy with a killer smile, and then one day, we’d accidentally run into each other at an internet café and fall madly in love.”

“Sorry, Mills. There’s no killer smile when it comes to 343. He’s more of thelives in his mother’s basementtype. Youdodged a bullet there, but never fear, if it’s love at first sight you’re looking for, then I can put a list together.”

“Hell no. The only color you like is red. I don’t need you setting me up with some guy who’s going to gut me like a fish in my sleep.”

“Oh come on. I set you up with a serial killer one time. It’s not like I knew the guy was intending to turn you into a human pincushion. How could I have possibly known? He was hot and sweet and looked like he more than knew what he was doing in the bedroom. It was an honest accident.”

“The answer is still no.”

“Fine,” I huff. “But speaking of red flags. Reaper really has that dark and deadly thing going for him, and I really wouldn’t mind—”

---