Page 89 of Cyclone

But her eyes never left the map.

“He’s waiting for me to break,” she whispered. “So that’s what I’ll give him.”

She circled a final point on the edge of the woods behind the house.

“He’ll come for me here. Right here.”

I stared at the spot.

A clearing. Shielded on three sides. Just out of camera range.

Perfect for a trap.

Deadly if we weren’t ready.

But she was righ

He’d go for control.

He’d go for silence.

And we’d be waiting.

49

Cyclone

The house was quiet.

Too quiet.

But for once, I didn’t hate it.

The trap was set.

The team was in position.

And for a few stolen hours, the world had gone still.

Jude stood at the bedroom window in nothing but one of my shirts, sleeves rolled up, her hair spilling down her back. The rain outside tapped against the glass, slow and steady.

She didn’t turn when I stepped inside.

She didn’t have to.

“I’ve never done this before,” she said softly.

I frowned. “Done what?”

She looked over her shoulder, eyes shadowed and soft.

“Gone into a fight with something to lose.”

I crossed the room in three long strides and wrapped my arms around her from behind. She melted into me, her hands coming to rest over mine.

“You’re not going to lose me,” I said into her hair.

“You don’t know that.”

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