Page 5 of Skull

“You have no oversight?”

“I wouldn’t say that. We have Shadowreapers who hunt rogue Shadowguard, but what I’m about to do here won’t ring their alarm bells.”

Silence fell between them, a tension so thick he could practically taste it.Shadowreapers?He’d never even heard about this. He knew it was going to be one hell of a long day, one long, black-ops style mission day. Behind that petite, powerhouse blonde lay a dangerous operator with no holds barred. It took one to know one, he thought, as he reminded himself that he was bound by the Navy’s rules while she was free to follow her own dark agenda. There was something both courageous and noble about that.

Yet he had to wonder where the core woman was inside her, and who, if anyone, was there for her besides her Shadowguard partner. His heart squeezed tight at the thought of her facing the darkness alone. Even though he had his brothers, he knew she might carry a loneliness he understood all too well. He would never admit it out loud, and she probably wouldn’t either.

Skull followed her as she marched the guy they had just taken down, posing as a federal agent, no less, out of the small airport and toward his Boxster. She talked a mile a minute on her cell. He stopped a few feet away and folded his arms, curious to see what she would do with her limited options. He certainly couldn’t drive with her in his lap.

“Open the trunk,” she ordered as they neared his two-seater.

He was struck dumb. This was serious black-ops territory if she planned to shove this guy into his postage-stamp-sized trunk. He let out a slow breath. She might be a ghost, but he was not. The man was bleeding, and soon his DNA would cover his car’s trunk. He’d be screwed—if that wasn’t enough, he’d be taking an Uber.

“I can see those rule-follower wheels turning. Don’t worry about your car. I’ll take care of it.”

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?” His jaw tightened as her words set off a bad, edgy feeling he hated.

“We don’t have time to argue. This is happening. Either open the trunk or get me another ride.”

Anger coiled in his chest. “You’re not going anywhere without me.”

She turned, her eyes cool and resistant, every line of her body saying she wasn’t backing down. The cold look returned, and he knew she could deliver a heart-stopping dose of big, bad danger at a moment’s notice. “We’ll talk about that later,” she said flatly, the edge in her voice as sharp as a knife. “Open the damn trunk.”

He pressed his key fob, watching her carefully. She wasn’t bluffing. She would get an Uber if she had to. She pushed the man, who suddenly started resisting. Skull understood why. He began to struggle, but she pressed a spot on his neck, and he went white, his chest heaving as his resistance faded. “Channel a sardine,” she ordered. He grunted and groaned as she shoved him into the small enclosure, stuffing him in so that his knees ended just below his chin, and slammed the trunk shut.

She leaned over, her voice low. “The tip of the spear and the velvet fist of the shadow world.” Her hand brushed his jaw with a quick, electric swipe. “You fit into both.” Her touch was light but sparked something deep inside him. “I’m a back-alley fighter warring against any force that threatens us. Sometimes I work solo, and sometimes our own sense of right and wrong gets undermined by the need to stop enemies who have no scruples.”

“I get it.” And he did. People might be outraged by what the CIA did abroad to preserve their society, but they weren’t in the trenches. They didn’t see the threats, the breathtaking possibility of annihilation, or the need for vengeance, retribution, and desperate acts of violence. There was nothing else to do.

“It’s all about perception,” Skull said. “I think your agency is one of the least understood and most mistrusted organizations. The reality on the ground, both outside the wire and in our own country, is a persistent threat that must be met with force to keep us safe. Those of you who shoulder this responsibility are resourceful, intelligent, capable, and care deeply for our country. You know the stakes. You know that if any of us miss one crucial piece of the intel puzzle, everyone is at risk for a terrible tragedy.”

Her mouth opened slightly, as if in shock that he would say that. She blinked, the surprise on her face melting into something that looked a whole lot like respect. She looked away for a moment, but he caught a flicker, a purely feminine reaction, and for a brief second, he wished he had kept quiet. He convinced himself he was just trying to figure her out. In some ways, he realized he was earning her trust whether he wanted to or not, and he wasn’t sure if that would come back to bite him.

She met his eyes again. “Wow, you sure do get it. I shouldn’t have been dismissive of SEALs in general. You are much more than the tip of the spear.”

Her compliment sent a jolt through him, urging him to do something, anything, about it. The sexual tension between them fogged his mind, even as he reminded himself that they were on a mission. He had enough to handle with the task at hand and the torrent of emotions swirling inside him. They had a job to do, and that had to take priority.

Guilt swept over him, deep, terrible guilt for even thinking about all of this when Hazard and Leigh were out there enduring who knew what.

“I’ll drive,” she announced suddenly. “I know where we’re going.” Before he could protest or even move, she was in the driver’s seat. He realized with a surge of anger that she’d somehow gotten his keys during their exchange. A frisson of rage sizzled through him as the door locks clicked into place. She started the engine and roared out of the parking lot.

But he had to stay focused on what was at stake here. Hazard and Leigh’s lives were on the line. Anger boiled hot in his veins as he forced himself not to lose control. For a brief, weak moment, he thought about Archer and how devastating it would be to lose him, and about how hard Leigh had fought for her life, even battling PTSD without backing down. It tore him up, but he refused to let fear or helplessness in. He had been a rock for his father, and he would be a rock for his teammate and the woman he loved. They were a package deal.

Through sheer guts and brains, Hummingbird had figured out where the van was headed. Unfortunately, they’d been too late to stop the kidnappers from flying Hazard and Leigh out of the country. From what little they got from the wounded prick Hummingbird had already subdued, he suspected she was right. They hadn’t dismantled the Alzate Cartel, they’d just battered and bruised them, and now they were out for blood.

That suited him and his team just fine. The cartel had killed two valuable members, and as the cartel had learned with Angel, payback was a bitch.

He swore softly, feeling like an idiot, hoping she might actually be genuine. And fuck it—he was the one taking an Uber.

Walker felt onlya twinge of remorse as she maneuvered Skull’s amazing car to the safe house where she and Eva could have some privacy with the bastard. She had to cut Skull out of the picture. This job was hers, and she would never expose him to their kind of interrogation tactics that might cost him his trident or his freedom.

She parked outside the house, and the moment she got out, men showed up in a truck. She handed them the keys and they drove the Porsche into the truck, climbing inside.

Eva opened the door and smiled. “You never cease to amaze me.”

“That’s good. I do like to keep people on their toes and guessing. I would hate to be boring and predictable.”

Eva nodded and closed the door behind them. The house was empty, and Walker led the man into a bare dining room where a tarp lay over plastic. His face went a bit white beneath his dark skin, especially around his mouth and eyes.

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