Page 17 of Howl For A Kiss
By the time she stepped into the makeshift office, she had her mask back in place—cool, composed, and in control.
Damon stood by a small desk, his arms crossed as he surveyed the room. He'd somehow scrounged up a chair, a weapons cabinet, even a bookshelf. The space was efficient, practical, and undeniably thoughtful.
Her chest tightened. "You really did all this?"
He turned, his gaze sweeping over her, lingering on the way the white fabric hugged her breasts before meeting her eyes. "Figured you'd need it."
She swallowed hard, forcing herself to focus. "I want to hit back. Hard. The operatives who ambushed us—they have outposts scattered across Tidewater territory. I've been tracking them for months."
Damon's expression darkened. "Revenge isn't always the best strategy."
"It's not just revenge," she snapped. "It's tactical. They'll keep hunting us unless we make them too afraid to come after us again."
He studied her for a long moment, then nodded slowly. "Show me."
Elena pulled out her maps from her backpack, spreading them across the desk. Her fingers traced the marked locations—abandoned warehouses, remote cabins, all places she'd painstakingly documented.
"This one," she said, tapping a spot near the eastern border. "It's their main hub. Take it out, and we cripple their operation for weeks."
Damon leaned over the map, his shoulder brushing hers. The contact sent heat skittering down her arm. "You've done some impressive reconnaissance," he murmured, his voice rough with approval.
She fought the urge to lean into him as his scent of pine and something darker and wilder wrapped around her senses like a temptation she couldn't afford. "I always do."
His lips quirked, just slightly—that rare, barely-there smirk that made her stomach tighten. "Well then, let's make them regret ever coming after you."
The promise in his voice was lethal, and it shouldn't have thrilled her as much as it did.
Damon leaned further over the map and his fitted black henley stretched across his back, the fabric pulling taut over muscles that flexed as he traced a route with his finger. "What if we approach the main hub along this route and attack from their blind side with more stealth?" he suggested, his tone holding that calm and cool undertone she was beginning to recognize as his signature sound.
"No, that's too discreet. I think we should approach from this angle," she said, jabbing a finger at the eastern ridge. "We cut off their power to the compound and attack them with grenades. Then we burn the place to the ground."
Damon's green eyes flicked up. "That's way too direct and problematic. They'll have scouts scattered around the perimeter, and too many operatives will get away before we even get close." He met her gaze for a long moment. "We go in quiet and take out their communications first."
"Quiet isn't going to send a message."
"Maybe not. But your survival sends a message." His voice was calm, infuriatingly so. "Plus, dead operatives can't report back or relocate to keep hunting you."
Elena clenched her jaw. She knew Damon was right. Knew it in the logical part of her brain that wasn't currently drowning in grief and fury. But the thought of taking out the human operatives one at a time, and holding back their full capabilities when Tyler's blood was still fresh in the snow?—
"Are you thinking about those ancient records? Because it seems like this attack is more personal than you'd like to admit," Damon said, watching her too closely.
She stiffened. "Of course I'm thinking about those records. We risked everything for them. Tyler died for them. And now Logan and Zoe just took off with them. So yeah, maybe this is a bit personal for me."
"Logan and Zoe didn't have a choice." Damon straightened, his gaze unwavering. "They'll decode the intel, and we'll figure out what to do next with the Council at that time. But right now, this—" He tapped the map. "—is what we can control, and what we need to be smart about. To keep you safe."
Elena exhaled sharply, her fingers curling into fists. He was right. Again. Always right, always steady, and always the voice ofreason when all she wanted was to tear into something with her new claws.
"Fine," she bit out. "We do it your way."
A flicker of approval crossed his face, and damn if that didn't make her wolf stir with something dangerously close to pride.
She leaned back in her chair and studied him, generally curious about how he seemed to know how to handle every situation. "So, what's your life like back in Silvercrest territory?"
The shift in his demeanor was immediate. His shoulders tensed and his expression shuttered. "Complicated."
"That's not an answer."
"It's the only one I've got right now."
