Page 3 of Skull

She found her love in high school and college theater, where she could be anyone she wanted to be and discovered that adventure was well worth the risk. Slipping into and out of all types of characters brought her joy. When she had to learn martial arts for a role, she discovered another way to defend herself while pushing her farther from the empty ideals her family upheld.

She’d fought the mold and been punished for it time and again. She always felt different, a secret outsider from the vacuous, predictable, materialistic life her family led. She’d chafed for years, keeping her darker side hidden behind pink, sugar, and spice smiles. She felt smothered by a conditional love that never respected her boundaries. Secretly, she longed to find her own autonomous way, and shockingly, the agency had given her that path. She had a code name, a license to kill, and could transform into anyone she needed to be. How cool was that?

The added benefit was that she was protecting her country, and after “the Farm,” she found purpose and unleashed the dark woman inside her, giddy with the prospect of mayhem and adventure. Once freed from the gilded cage of her family’s expectations, the beats of her heart clicked into place, and suddenly, her future made all kinds of sense. She’d never looked back.

“You have a lead?” Skull asked, and the hope in his eyes did something to her, something she really didn’t want. His lips were stretched in a thin line, and his compelling eyes blazed with simmering anger. Not anger at her, at least not this time. His fury was directed at whoever had taken Hazard and Leigh.

That very fine body was locked and loaded. He was raring to go and needed something to do. Luckily, she had just the thing.

“Let’s go. Time’s wasting.” She started toward his car, stopped, and met Anna’s eyes. “The Alzate Cartel has them.”

Anna gasped, her words coming from a clenched jaw, guilt filling her eyes. Walker wished she could tell her that everything would be all right, but the truth was these people understood only one thing—violence. “How do you know that?”

“One of the witnesses saw an angel tattoo on one of the men’s hands, between the thumb and forefinger. This is about Angel, and I suspect they’re going to try to trade them for our death-row inmate.”

“I need to call my boss. Skull, go with her and see what you can find out.”

He looked to Iceman, who nodded with a chilling gaze.

She certainly wouldn’t want to be on this man’s shitlist. Their Tier 1 leader had a reputation for never missing a damn thing, and she liked that Skull took orders from Iceman. His loyalty and respect for the man who commanded them was unmistakable. “Ice, let’s get back to base and call the guys in. We need to be wheels up to Bogotá as soon as they chase this lead down.”

Skull turned toward her, sighing softly as he followed her to his car. “How do you know what car I drive?”

“I’m observant, and I don’t leave anything to chance.” She lifted a lazy brow in his direction.

“Fucking persistent,” he muttered under his breath.

She eyed the sleek black sports car. “Nice ride, by the way. Very elegant.”

Settling into the driver’s seat, he gave her a once-over as she lowered herself into the buttery leather seats of the low-slung car. “I barely recognized you in that getup.”

“That’s the point, handsome,” she said with a smirk. “Incognito is my middle name.”

“Seatbelt,” he said in a tone that told her compliance was the only choice here, and she was touched that he cared for her safety. He checked the mirrors with his sharp, keen gaze.

“What the fuck is your name?” he growled absently, his tone betraying that he’d been thinking about it.

She glanced at him with wide-eyed amusement. “Oh, that’s right—I never did tell you what it is.”

He snarled something beneath his breath that she couldn’t quite make out, then sped out of the parking spot, driving as competently, lethally, and focused as he looked.

“Are you going to tell me?”

“Hmm, I don’t believe in getting something for nothing. How about a trade?”

God, she loved his macho, take-charge manner, and she wondered if that uptight, gruff attitude carried over to everything he did. How freaking intriguing.

“Trade,” he said warily, his myriad eyes shifting back to her, tracing her from head to toe in one efficient caress. A rush of adrenaline shot through her veins, and a heady mix of awareness and delicious anticipation tumbled in her belly.

Giving in to the wicked urge to ruffle his feathers a bit more, she challenged, “I’m sure that curt tone intimidates some people, but I’m not one of them. So, yes, you give me a kiss, and I’ll give you my first name.”

“A kiss?” He blinked, thrown off by her abrupt request, even as heat and desire arced between them, his struggle to keep his reaction in check evident.

She flashed him a sassy grin. “Yeah, like you mean it.”

The frown creasing his brows deepened into a scowl. “You are a piece of work, lady.”

“Thank you.”

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