Page 40 of The Sniper

“I noticed.”

She barely restrained the urge to curse. They should have had this wrapped up. Rowe was alive, but the killer had slipped through their fingers.

Daniels pinched the bridge of his nose before turning back to her. His dark eyes locked onto hers, and for a moment, there was a crushing sense of failure. But then he straightened,shoulders squaring despite the pain, and the steel returned to his expression.

“This isn’t over.” His voice was low, unwavering.

“No,” Reyna agreed. “It’s not.”

The city stretched around them, the night swallowing their words. Somewhere out there, the killer was still moving, still hunting.

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

DANIELS

The Cerberus safe house was nothing more than a high-end townhouse in the outskirts of Chicago—anonymous, forgettable, and wired with enough security to keep a small army at bay. The kind of place where people disappeared, either for protection or because someone needed them off the grid. Tonight, it was the former.

Sebastian Rowe sat in one of the leather chairs in the living room, elbows on his knees, head bowed. He hadn’t said much since they’d gotten him here, and Daniels wasn’t sure if that was a good thing or not.

Daniels barely felt the stitches Reyna had put in pulling at his side as he stood near the window, his back to the room, watching the shadows stretch across the empty street outside. He was wired too tight, the adrenaline from the fight still burning through his system. His ribs ached like hell, and his patience was razor thin.

Reyna had been quiet. Too quiet.

She stood by the fireplace, arms crossed, her posture deceptively relaxed. But Daniels knew better. Her shoulders were too stiff, her jaw locked tight. She hadn’t looked at him since they’d arrived, and that wasn’t like her.

Fitz and Anton would keep Rowe under wraps. The man might be good at keeping secrets, but whoever had tried to take him tonight wasn’t finished. The killer had slipped through their fingers, and now they were back to playing defense.

Daniels breathed out slowly, pushing away from the window. “We should head out. Fitz and Anton have him covered.”

Reyna nodded once, clipped. “Yeah.”

Still no eye contact.

Daniels bit back the urge to push her. He wasn’t sure how this night was going to go, but there was a storm brewing in her—he could feel it.

They left without another word.

Back at Cerberus headquarters, the silence hung between them as Daniels pulled the SUV into the underground parking garage. The moment the engine cut off, Reyna unbuckled and threw open the door, climbing out with a sharp, clipped movement.

Daniels took his time.

She was wound too tight. He was too damn tired. But neither of them was going to let this go.

By the time he stepped out of the vehicle, Reyna was already at the elevator, arms crossed, waiting. As the doors opened, she stepped inside and Daniels got in beside her, not speaking, letting the quiet stretch. The doors closed, and the enclosed space made it worse.

It wasn’t until they reached the private Cerberus floor and stepped into the war room that she turned on him.

“You were too slow.”

Daniels arched an eyebrow, leaning against the table. “Excuse me?”

“You were too slow,” she repeated, her voice sharp, controlled. “That knife shouldn’t have touched you. Weshould’ve been faster, should’ve had backup. Hell, I should have taken the shot earlier.”

Daniels inhaled slowly. He wasn’t in the mood for this, but he wasn’t about to let her run herself into the ground either.

“You did your job, Reyna,” he said evenly.

She shook her head, her hands curling into fists. “Did I? Because from where I was sitting, I let the fucking bitch get away. And you...”

---