Page 40 of War Games

“My pleasure.”

“Speaking of being a child spy turned assassin,” I say. “How did you become this way? Who trained you?”

Her gaze snaps up, and suddenly that childlike innocence and gratefulness vanishes, leaving nothing but the terrified child I saw in the back of the alley. Her gaze flashes between me and Siren, and as we both start to raise our hands to calm her down, she rushes to her feet and makes a break for it, vanishing out of the restaurant like the ghost that she is.

“Fuck,” Siren says, an accusation clear in her tone. “Now look what you’ve done. She was only just starting to come around.”

I shake my head. “That kid’s got a long way to go before she starts coming around,” I tell her. “But one thing is for sure, it’s not us she’s terrified of, it’s her home.”

“That makes her a threat,” Siren murmurs, devastation thick in her tone. “She’ll be desperate to win that prize money and freeherself. She won’t be reasoned with and will keep going after the others. We need to keep an eye on her.”

“If you haven’t noticed, keeping an eye on her is fucking impossible. She’s the only person who has ever evaded me.”

Siren’s gaze widens in shock. “She did?”

I nod, almost ashamed to admit it. “Twice, and if it weren’t for you seeing her outside the restaurant earlier, it would have been three times.”

“Shit.”

“Mmhmm,” I say. “All I know is that this game won’t be ending because there’s no way in hell I’m going to let her get the drop on me, but I won’t allow you or anyone else to end her life either. She’s too young for this shit.”

“I agree,” Siren says, picking up the wine glass she didn’t even see the waiter refill. She throws her head back and drains the glass before getting to her feet. “We have to protect her.”

I stand with her, placing my hand on her lower back after tossing a hundred-dollar bill on the table. “The question is, how the fuck are we supposed to protect a ghost when we have no fucking idea what she truly needs protection from?”

14

SIREN

Sleep doesn’t come easy after the night I just had with Eagle, Reaper, and then Shadow. It was more than just eventful, and now my brain is struggling to turn off. I’m exhausted. All I want is to drown in my sorrows and fall into a deep sleep, perhaps even ignore my alarm and stay in bed until someone drags me out of it.

It’s after two in the morning, and at this point, I think my eyeballs are literally falling out of my head, but for whatever reason, the sweet peace of sleep just won’t come. Maybe it’s because I foolishly gave Shadow the code to get into my home, though I don’t anticipate her actually using it. She could easily break in if she wanted to. Same goes for Reaper actually, and judging from tonight’s conversation, I wouldn’t be surprised if he were hiding out somewhere in the bushes outside. Yet the thought of him being close by no longer terrifies me.

I think I like it. The idea of Reaper stalking me is kind of a turn-on. He’s incredible, the absolute best in the business. He spent years perfecting his skills, and for whatever reason, I’m theperson who intrigues him. If he just wanted to get his dick wet, he could walk into any bar and take his pick, but he likes me.

Okay, maybelikeis a strong word for it, but he’s certainly intrigued, and that excites me in a way I could have never imagined. I like his eyes on me, like the way his knee brushed mine under the table, but when we stood outside that restaurant before seeing Shadow and he slid his hand down my body and cupped my pussy . . . fuck! I was ruined.

The thought of it has me squirming beneath the blankets, and the next thing I know, my eyes are closed as my hand skims under the sheets and down between my thighs. I push my fingers inside the waistband of my sleep shorts, diving down to the apex of my thighs as my back arches off the mattress.

Fuck. Reaper has ruined me.

My fingers brush over my needy clit, and just as I begin to visualize the way that Reaper would so easily destroy me between the sheets, a subtle creak sounds deeper within my villa.

My hand rips out of my pajama shorts and within the blink of an eye, I’m on my feet, a blade in one hand and my phone in the other, bringing up my surveillance feed. A quick check of the outdoor area comes up empty but as I check the inside feed, my heart starts to race for a whole new reason.

Reaper stands right in the center of my kitchen, leaning against the counter as though he hasn’t got a care in the world. One foot is kicked over the other, his arms crossed over his wide chest as he stares directly into the camera.

Shit.

I don’t bother dressing, but I don’t release my hold on the blade either before trudging out into the hallway in nothing but my sleep shorts, a black cami, and a deep unfulfilled need throbbing in my core.

Making my way out to the kitchen and living area, I prop my shoulder against the wall and glare at Reaper, seeing him perfectly despite the darkness, and I can’t help but be grateful for the fact he’s chosen the brightest area in the villa to stand. He wasn’t trying to scare me, hence why he took up space right in front of my kitchen camera. He simply wanted to draw me out.

He’s just as huge and imposing as he’s always been, but now when I look at him, I don’t feel that same fear I got that very first time. He doesn’t scare me anymore, and that’s on me. I should fear him. I should be running in the opposite direction. Instead, all I want is to tear every article of clothing off him and have my wicked way with him.

God, what I wouldn’t give to strip him bare and lick him from head to toe, to taste every inch of him, to please and satisfy him.

Instead of attacking him with my tongue, I lift a brow and feign indifference. “Is there a reason your big ass body is currently invading my kitchen?”

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