Page 7 of Shadow of Misty Mountain

I turn and face her. “Start talking.”

She sways on her feet. I step forward instinctively, and she straightens like I’ve challenged her. Her chin goes up again.

“Your name came across my desk a few days ago. I work for Liberty Quill Press, you know, your publisher…”

“They don’t have my real name, just my pen name…”

“And a link to your Swiss bank account…”

“That’s supposed to be anonymous…”

She laughs. “Nothing is anonymous if you know your way around the web. But that’s not really important. My boss asked me to dig into Jack Stratton’s file?—

I hold up a hand, sharp. “Don’t say that name in my house again.”

Her mouth opens, then shuts. She nods. Good.

She swallows. “Fine. Your name. I traced the contract. The wire account. Zurich. I figured it out… took some doing, but once I got onto the dark web, it didn’t take much.”

“That’s a problem.”

Her eyebrows lift. “No shit. Someone else figured out I was looking. Suddenly, the screen went black and then a warning flashed up. Someone else knows about you, too. Because later that night, someone broke into my apartment in Philly. Tactical gear, mask, and a very nasty-looking blade. When he told someone over his comms unit that he would take care of me—the problem—I got out of there.”

Her voice falters. Not from fear. From fury. I know that feeling. The rage that comes after the fear has burned itself out.

“Nick left me a note,” she continues, voice lower. “Told me if anything happened to him—or to me—I was to grab the go bag he made me prepare and then find you.”

“And what exactly do you think I’m going to do about it?”

“I don’t know,” she says with a shrug. “But I didn’t have a lot of options. My brother is the only person I ever truly trusted, and you were the only name he ever gave me.”

That right there is what makes me pause.

I remember Nick. Sniper. Smarter than the rest. He always had my back, supporting me even when I gave orders he disliked. And now his sister is standing in my cabin, looking like she might fall over—but refusing to ask for anything.

I run a hand across my beard. She’s trouble. No doubt about it. But she’s Nick’s little sister. I walk past her, grab a folded blanket from the chair by the fire, and toss it at her.

“Get out of those wet clothes and wrap yourself in that blanket. Then sit down in front of the fire and warm up. Don’t speak unless I ask. I need to think.”

She starts to open her mouth.

“Unless,” I add, “you want to go back out there and try your luck in the snow and with whoever tried to kill you.”

She closes her mouth and pulls off her wet things until all that’s left is a lacy set of lingerie. Somehow, I don’t think Nick had thought to include a matching bra and panties. She doesn’t quibble and doesn’t seem to think about modesty. Just does what I tell her and sits on the chesterfield couch in front of the fire. Good girl.

I give her a nod and turn toward the kitchen. There’s stew left over from last night and a loaf of bread I pulled from the oven this morning. I rarely bother with company meals, but I keep enough on hand just in case.

Just in case turns out to be five-foot-five and tracking slush into my living room.

I hand her the bowl and make her a cup of tea, setting it down on the table beside her.

“Eat.”

She obeys, surprisingly fast. She dips the spoon in the stew, lifts it to her lips, and takes a bite. I watch her eyes flutter closed. I turn away before I watch anything else. Back at the counter, I brace my palms against the edge and breathe deep.

This wasn’t supposed to happen. I buried the past. I killed it. One mile of forest at a time. One lie of omission, one silence, one cut tie. I walked away so no one else would get caught in the crossfire. And now it’s found me again in the form of Nick’s littlesister, shivering in my flannel blanket and eating stew like it’s the first thing she’s tasted in days.

I don’t ask if she brought anyone else with her. I’ll sweep the perimeter myself when the storm lets up. I don’t ask what else she knows. Not yet, but I know I’m not sending her back out there.

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