MISSION: HER FREEDOM

TEAM 52 #6

ANNA HACKETT

Mission: Her Freedom

Published by Anna Hackett

Copyright 2019 by Anna Hackett

Cover by Melody Simmons of BookCoversCre8tive

Cover image by Wander Aguiar Photography

Edits by Tanya Saari

ISBN (ebook): 978-1-925539-86-8

ISBN (paperback): 978-1-925539-87-5

This book is a work of fiction. All names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, events or places is coincidental. No part of this book may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any printed or electronic form.

CONTENTS

What readers are saying about Anna’s romances

Anna Hackett Box Set

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Preview - Mission: Her Shield

Preview: THS and Norcross Security

Also by Anna Hackett

About the Author

WHAT READERS ARE SAYING ABOUT ANNA’S ROMANCES

Heart of Eon - Romantic Book of the Year (Ruby) winner 2020

Cyborg - PRISM Award Winner 2019

Edge of Eon and Mission: Her Protection - Romantic Book of the Year (Ruby) finalists 2019

Unfathomed and Unmapped - Romantic Book of the Year (Ruby) finalists 2018

Unexplored – Romantic Book of the Year (Ruby) Novella Winner 2017

Return to Dark Earth – One of Library Journal’s Best E-Original Books for 2015 and two-time SFR Galaxy Awards winner

At Star’s End – One of Library Journal’s Best E-Original Romances for 2014

The Phoenix Adventures – SFR Galaxy Award Winner for Most Fun New Series and “Why Isn’t This a Movie?” Series

Hell Squad – SFR Galaxy Award for best Post-Apocalypse for Readers who don’t like Post-Apocalypse

“Like Indiana Jones meets Star Wars. A treasure hunt with a steamy romance.” – SFF Dragon, review of Among Galactic Ruins

“Strap in, enjoy the heat of romance and the daring of this group of space travellers!” – Di, Top 500 Amazon Reviewer, review of At Star’s End

“Action, danger, aliens, romance – yup, it’s another great book from Anna Hackett!” – Book Gannet Reviews, review of Hell Squad: Marcus

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CHAPTER ONE

The hard blow to his face made him grunt. Damn, that hurt like a mother—

“Mr. Jameson, you will do what we want, one way or another.”

Brooks Jameson turned his head and spat out a mouthful of blood onto the bare concrete floor. He wiggled his fingers, which were numb from his arms being tied to a chair for hours. “Not going to happen.”

The man standing in front of him shifted his shiny, black shoes, his face tightening.

These assholes had taken Brooks down and dragged him off a Las Vegas street, then shoved him in a car. He wasn’t sure how long they’d driven around, but eventually, they’d dragged him into some half-constructed house. And they hadn’t been gentle about it. They were not good guys, and Brooks wasn’t going to do a damn thing for them.

The man who’d spoken dragged another chair over, dodging some tools and sawhorses. A single industrial light was on, casting a small glow around Brooks.

Brooks had nicknamed the man in charge Mr. Ordinary. He wore a button-down shirt, boring sweater, and pressed trousers. He was probably in his mid-fifties with neat brown hair flecked with gray. He could have been any guy walking down the street, in any American town. A guy with a decent desk job, sweet family at home, and a boring car.

“We are aware of your excellent computer skills, Mr. Jameson. There is no computer you can’t hack.” Mr. Ordinary sat, resting one ankle on his knee. “You graduated from MIT, then entered the Navy, and joined Navy Intelligence. You could’ve gone to work in Silicon Valley, and in fact, several companies made you lucrative offers. You could have made a fortune, but you didn’t go that way.”

Nope. Being stuck in some open-plan office with bean bags for chairs and that offered yoga classes at lunch time wasn’t his thing. Instead, after an interesting and challenging career in the Navy, Brooks was the technical support for a very unique team. A covert, military team of badasses.

He loved his job. And he was badass in his own way. He’d come a long way from being beaten up in the locker room at high school.

He thought of his team now and glared at his captor. They’d be searching for him. Team 52 never gave up. They’d track this asshole down and they’d make him pay.

Behind Mr. Ordinary, several broad-shouldered shadows stirred. Ordinary’s goons. There were a few outside as well. Off to the left, a bright light glowed through the darkness. Brooks’ gut tightened. It was the glow of a laptop set up on some boxes.

“You will hack into your team’s database and get us information we want.”

Fear chewed at Brooks’ gut. He flexed his arms against his bindings. He kept fit, had been trained by the Navy, and now he trained with his team. He wasn’t a born fighter, but could hold his own. He fought best with a keyboard, not his fists.

Still, he would not let these assholes get any information from Team 52.

“I invented the computer system for my team,” Brooks said. “It can’t be hacked. As soon as I went missing, passwords and protocols would have changed. There is no way in.”

Mr. Ordinary smiled. It sent a chill down Brooks’ spine. “Your team isn’t aware that you are missing.”

Brooks snorted. “Bullshit. When they find you, they’ll wipe this dirty concrete floor with you.”

“We sent a text from your phone saying that you were busy.”

Brooks felt like his chest filled with concrete. “No way you got into my phone.”

The man shrugged. “You activated an alert when we took you and your phone was still active. You were unconscious at the time. We managed to send the message before your phone locked.”

Brooks swallowed. He’d been so sure that Lachlan Hunter and the guys were out looking for him. Lachlan was known for making bad guys piss themselves with one scary look. All the team were ex-military, and damn good at what they did.

Team 52 was a secret, black ops team tasked with finding and safeguarding mysterious artifacts. Powerful artifacts that could do a lot of damage in the wrong hands. Most people didn’t know that human civilization had existed for longer and been more advanced than the history books indicated. The end of the last ice age had wiped those advanced cultures out, but sometimes, pieces of their technology popped up.

Brooks swallowed again. Damn, his throat was dry. “I can’t hack the system.”

Mr. Ordinary tilted his head. “Can’t or won’t?” The man’s gaze bored into Brooks. “No one’s looking for you, Mr. Jameson. You need to help yourself.”

Brooks just lifted his chin and glared. He’d fucking faced down bullies before. You never showed weakness.

The man sighed and gave one short nod.

One of the goons moved forward. The guy had no neck and his suit didn’t fit well over his bulging muscles. He was a big one.

He stepped in front of Brooks’ chair and cracked his knuckles. Brooks braced and the man landed a hard punch to Brooks’ gut.

The air rushed out of him, pain making his head swim, and he swallowed a groan. He wouldn’t break. He wouldn’t let his team down.

The blows kept coming, and soon Brooks’ pained grunts echoed through the empty space.

CALLIE KIMURA strode down the street, her jaw tight. Night had fallen, which meant that on the Strip, the evening would be just getting started for the tourists, gamblers, and revelers. Here on this side street in Downtown Las Vegas, things were quieter.

She slid her hands into the pockets of her jeans. Her team was at their favorite bar—Griffin’s Sports Bar and Grill—welcoming the team’s newest member, and celebrating the fact that their grumpy scientist, Ty, had finally taken the fall and found a woman. Callie thought River and Ty were a damn good match. She hoped it lasted, especially since River—a former MI6 agent—was the newest addition to Team 52.

Brooks had blown off drinks with the team. It wasn’t unusual, because no one could get lost in his computer geekery quite like Brooks. The man had a giant brain and liked to use it.

But it didn’t feel right to Callie. They’d talked earlier during the day, and he’d been looking forward to tonight. A career as a combat medic in the Air Force had taught her to trust her instincts when they were screaming at her that something was wrong.

That career had ended in the fiery crash of a helicopter, but she was forever grateful for the time she’d spent as a pararescueman.

She’d called Brooks. No answer. She’d stopped by his condo—just east of the Strip and north of the airport—but he wasn’t home. She’d even been into the computer shop where he’d gone to pick up some super-duper part that he’d been waiting for. The store owner had been closing up but happy to gush over Brooks. No doubt because Brooks regularly spent a small fortune in the store.

Callie had been to the store once with Brooks. The man looked at computer parts the way she did shoes. She might have been Air Force, and now Team 52—which meant she usually wore combat boots—but she had an unholy addiction to pretty shoes that she rarely got to wear. She wasn’t sorry, not one little bit.

The owner said Brooks had been in and left. But something didn’t smell right, and Callie’s combat-honed senses weren’t just tingling, they were on fire.

Where are you, Brooks?

Across the street, she spotted several people gathered in a small group on the sidewalk. She instantly picked up on the tense atmosphere.

Her heart skipped a beat and she crossed the street.

“What’s happening?” she asked one onlooker.

“There was a fight.” Excitement and curiosity drenched the man’s voice. “And it was rough. A bunch of guys dragged some dude off the street.”

Shit. Callie’s muscles went tight. Her instincts were on the money. Dammit.

“God, who was it?” she asked.

“Don’t know. Some guy.”

Not exactly confirmation it was Brooks, but still. She pivoted and walked away, pulling out her phone. She stabbed the screen.

“Hunter.” The deep voice of their team leader came over the line.

“Lachlan, I’m near the computer store where Brooks was picking up his computer part. People are saying that a man was in a fight. They say he got dragged off the street by a bunch of guys.”

She heard the noises of the bar in the background, and Lachlan muttered a curse. She could imagine his tall, muscled body on a bar stool, his golden eyes aglow. “Wait, Callie. Blair, what is it?”

Callie heard the murmur of Blair’s voice. Blair Mason was one of Callie’s closest friends and the second in command of the team. She and Lachlan were both former marines.

“Fuck,” Lachlan said. “MacKade just got a call. Report of an abduction of a man in his late twenties or early thirties from your location.”

MacKade was Detective Luke MacKade, Team 52’s Las Vegas Metropolitan Police contact and Blair’s lover.

“Any more details?” Callie asked.

“Nothing yet. Cops are pulling CCTV from the shops nearby.”

“Can we hack them right now?” Callie asked. It would be quicker than waiting for the police.

“Not as fast as Brooks could. Look, meet us at the Bunker. We need to confirm it was Brooks, and ensure that he’s not holed up somewhere communing with his computer. If someone did take him…”

The menace in Lachlan’s voice made Callie shiver. If someone had taken Brooks, they’d regret it.

“See you soon,” she said.

Clenching her teeth, she slid her phone away. Brooks was a good guy, and a key part of their team. He was also her friend.

He smiled often, guzzled too many energy drinks, had a sweet tooth, and kicked ass playing Call of Duty.

If they’d hurt him…

Her belly churned. He’d be okay. She spotted a crumpled box on the edge of the sidewalk. Crouching, she flicked it open and stared at the electronic component inside.

Fuck. A spurt of fear hit her. Hold tight, Brooks.

“You looking for the boy they took?”

From her crouch, Callie swiveled her head, clutching the box to her chest. She spotted a homeless woman sitting at the mouth of an alley. The woman had a wild mass of matted, salt-and-pepper hair covered by a battered, knitted hat. Beside her was a cardboard box overflowing with things and a smaller box resting at her feet with some coins in it.

“Did you see something?” Callie asked.

The woman coughed, a harsh, hacking sound. “Maybe.”

Callie rose and walked closer to the woman. She shoved a hand in the pocket of her jeans and pulled out a ten-dollar bill. She dropped it in the small box near the woman’s feet.

“What did you see? I think it might be my friend.”

“Good-looking boy with lots of tattoos.”

Shit. Callie squeezed her eyes closed. Brooks had a hell of a collection of ink.

“Thick, brown hair, and muscled buns, too,” the woman added.

Callie’s lips twitched. She’d noticed Brooks’ fine ass a time or two, herself. “That’s him.”

“They put him in a car. A red one.”

Callie wondered how many red cars there were in Vegas. Too many. It wasn’t much, but it was something. More than they’d had.

“Thank you.”

The woman’s bushy eyebrows rose. “You want the plate number, girly, or what?”

Callie’s breath hitched. “You got the plate number?”

“Might be old and live on the street, but nothing wrong with my eyes. Always had a thing for numbers.” The woman rattled off the plate.

Callie yanked out her phone and tapped the combination in. “Thank you. Thank you so much!”

“Hope the boy with nice buns ain’t hurt.”

“I hope so, too.”

Callie pivoted and sprinted for her car.

CHAPTER TWO

Callie strode up to the squat-looking, concrete building situated in a quiet corner of McCarran Airport. A plane flew overhead with a roar of sound, heading for the runway. In the distance, the lights of the Strip lit up the night.

She shoved open the door and walked inside.

The team was already there, and lights blazed through all of the offices.

Lachlan Hunter stood near the main desk, his arms—one pure muscle and the other a high-tech prosthetic—crossed over his chest. He was scowling. Seth Lynch—former CIA agent from the Agency’s Special Activities Division—stood beside him, his handsome face, with intriguing scars on one side, looking troubled.

Nearby, former SEAL Smith Creed stood with his arm around pretty, blonde Kinsey—their logistics manager. Kinsey looked worried and Smith just looked pissed. Seeing the couple always made Callie think of beauty and the beast, since Smith was big, broad, and surly and Kinsey was the exact opposite.

Blair was perched on the edge of Kinsey’s desk drinking coffee, her blonde hair pulled back in a braid. The final member of Team 52 was Axel Diaz. The former Delta Force soldier leaned a hip against the desk and tapped his fingers against one lean thigh. His thick, brown hair was in desperate need of a cut, although it begged a woman to run her hands through it.

Edginess pumped off them, filling the air.

Kinsey offered Callie a pained smile and pointed. “Coffee.” Then she tilted her head at the computer on her desk. “I’m running a trace on the car details you texted me.”

“Thanks, Kinse.” Callie strode over and poured herself a coffee. She didn’t worry about milk and sugar like she ordinarily would. Right now, she just needed the hit of caffeine and something to do with her hands.

“Ty and River wanted to be here, too,” Kinsey said. “But we convinced her to follow her plan and fly to London tomorrow.”

River still needed to sell her apartment in London and deal with some loose ends before she started her new life here in Las Vegas. Callie nodded.

The computer chimed and Kinsey scrambled over to it. “Got it!”

“Conference room,” Lachlan ordered.

The team moved into the conference room, and Callie watched images pop up on the screens on the wall.

Traffic footage. A red car driving through an intersection.

Her jaw hardened. She imagined Brooks hurt and alone. She didn’t like it. At all.

“That’s our car.” Kinsey tapped the keyboard. “It’s a rental.”

“Why was he taken?” Callie said.

“To get access to Team 52.” Kinsey’s face was pale. “To get access to an artifact.”

Smith’s hands landed on his woman’s shoulders, massaging gently. Not too long ago, Kinsey had been kidnapped for that very reason before they’d rescued her.

“Or they need his skills,” Seth said.

Seth was former CIA, and saw things in more shades of gray than the rest of the team.

“The last sighting of the vehicle was here.” Kinsey pointed to a map.

Northern Las Vegas. Callie tapped her fingers against her thigh. Where are you, Brooks?

She remembered when her father and sister were missing. That horrible, yawning worry. She quickly shut those thoughts down.

“Keep searching,” Lachlan ordered.

Kinsey nodded.

Blair’s phone rang and she thumbed it. “Hey, MacKade. Yeah.” A pause. “Okay. Thanks.” Blair looked up. “MacKade’s sending through some more CCTV footage. Of the fight near the computer shop.”

Kinsey tapped the keyboard. “Got it.” She tapped some more, and the footage appeared on the screen. It was a little grainy, but Callie clearly made out Brooks’ tall form.

And his attackers.

Callie sucked in a breath, watching the men come at him. It wasn’t a fair fight.

“He did well,” Axel said. “He’s been training.”

But there’d been too many against him, and they’d taken him down.

Callie released a breath and saw a muscle tick in Lachlan’s jaw.

“I’ve set up some searches,” Kinsey said. “As soon as the car is sighted again, we’ll get an alert.”

“Shit.” Blair ran a hand over her head. “Brooks.”

Callie reached out and squeezed her arm. “We’ll find him.”

“Okay,” Lachlan said. “Everybody go home. We’ve got nothing else to go on right now. Rest up, but stay alert.”

“Fuck.” Axel kicked the table.

Everyone nodded, reluctance in every move. An air of dejection hung over the team.

“Smith and I will stay here,” Kinsey said. “As soon as I have something, I’ll let you know.”

They’d been in this position so many times before—forced to watch and wait—but it never got easier. With every beat of her heart, she knew that Brooks was being taken farther away.

“Catch you guys later.” She waved and then headed out to her Nissan 370Z. When she slid inside, she rested her hands on the wheel. Not even her sporty, little coupe could improve her mood today.

It sucked when a friend was in trouble. Team 52 was used to dangerous missions, used to saving the world. But it was even harder when it was one of their own that was involved.

Again, she thought of her father and Rebecca. Callie closed her eyes and was transported back to when she’d been sixteen. Her father had gone to pick up Bec from dance practice, and his car had run off the road in a thunderstorm. She pulled in a shuddering breath. Everyone in their town had been out searching for them…but Callie had been the first to find them.

Love you, pretty girl. Even after so many years, she could still hear her dad’s voice. She’d adored him.

Shaking her head, Callie jerked her car into gear. She pulled out onto the road, passing out through the gates of the airport. Instead of heading toward her townhouse in Spring Valley, she aimed north. She wasn’t going to go home and wait. She was going to look for that damn car.

She glanced over at the lights of the Strip in the distance. She liked Las Vegas—the bright lights, the life, the energy. But there were moments when she missed Hawaii. She missed the ocean and salt-laden air. She missed catching waves at sunrise. Whenever she could, she visited her mom on the Big Island, and made the most of soaking her home in.

Soon, she passed the central part of Vegas. Things were less pretty here, some parts downright seedy. These were the parts of Vegas the tourists didn’t see.

She stopped at a red light at the intersection where the red car was last seen. She drummed her fingers on the wheel.

Damn, they could be anywhere by now.

The light changed and she drove on, scanning the streets. No red car. Ahead, a new housing development had been started, filled with half-built houses that appeared to be falling into ruin. The developers had obviously gone bankrupt.

Her pulse jumped. Between the skeletons of the houses, she caught a flash of red.

Callie did a U-turn and went back. It was a long shot, but she had to check.

She turned into the development and turned off her lights. She drove slowly and parked beside one house.

She slid out of the car, pulling out her Glock. She slipped the handgun into her waistband at her lower back. Winter had given way to spring, but it was still cool at night. She was thankful for her lightweight jacket.

Sticking to the shadows, she walked deeper among the half-built houses. Somewhere in the distance, a dog barked.

These first houses were mostly just frames, but some farther to the back of the development looked like they’d been closer to being finished. They were almost complete, except none had any windows.

She spotted a red sedan, but couldn’t read the plate from where she was. She crept around the side of one house, and ahead, she saw a light on in one of the unfinished houses.

She stopped for a moment. It could be kids, homeless people, junkies…

But her gut told her to keep going.

She carefully circled another house, and spotted a guard outside the one that was lit up. He was big and armed, lazily scanning the night.

Callie ducked quietly into a neighboring building. Gripping the wooden framework, she quickly scaled the home. Perching on a beam, she looked through the empty window at the next-door building.

From her vantage point, she could see straight into the house next door. It had a few windows in place, but not all of them. Most of its walls were finished.

But Callie didn’t pay any attention to the house, because she saw Brooks.

He was tied to a chair, his chin slumped to his chest. Blood stained his T-shirt.

She pulled out her phone to message Lachlan, the air stuck in her lungs. Be alive, Brooks. Be alive.

BROOKS SWAM back into consciousness and pain swamped him.

Fuck.

He heard voices and looked up. His captors were eating Chinese takeout. It made his stomach rumble.

They’d worked him over for a while, then left him to stew. He knew Team 52 would be searching for him. They all had killer instincts and they’d know he was in trouble.

But he still needed to put together a plan to get out of here, just in case.

He tested his bindings again. Tight as hell. He glanced down and realized he’d lost his glasses sometime during his abduction. He mainly needed them for close-up computer work and he thankfully had several pairs stashed in his computer room. He blinked and muttered a curse. His favorite Star Wars shirt was splattered with blood. Dammit.

“I think it’s time we try something more…motivating with Mr. Jameson,” Mr. Ordinary drawled.

One of the goons rose, sucking on a tooth. He looked at Brooks and his lips stretched into an ugly smile. “He needs his fingers to hack, but not his toes.”

Brooks’ blood ran cold. Shit.

Ordinary nodded. “Try to keep the mess to a minimum.”

The goon pulled a knife off his belt. It was big with a serrated edge.

Oh, fuck. Brooks shifted, his chair squeaking on the floor.

The goon started toward him. Then he heard a noise outside and saw the other guards freeze.

Mr. Ordinary turned, a frown on his face. “Burton, head out front. Check it out.”

One big guy rose and disappeared through the doorway.

Brooks pulled in a calming breath. His mind kept running through the dumbest things. He realized he was supposed to have breakfast with his family tomorrow. When he didn’t show, they’d be worried. His mom would go berserk.

Burton came back and shook his head. “No sign of Mendes.”

“Shit,” the goon with the knife muttered.

The others all stood, yanking out their handguns. Two shifted closer to Brooks.

Brooks fought a grin. It had to be his team.

The tinkle of breaking glass.

The guards all swiveled, unloading bullets into the drywall. The sound of firing weapons was deafening, and dust filled the air.

Shit. Brooks’ gut clenched.

“Go!” Ordinary yelled. “Whoever it is, take care of them.”

Several goons rushed into the next room. Brooks heard more gunfire and swallowed.

Then silence.

Ordinary and his remaining two men shifted restlessly.

“Go!” Ordinary ordered.

The two men moved cautiously, Ordinary following behind them. They disappeared from view.

The pounding of Brooks’ heart was like a drum in his ears. He frantically worked on his bindings, feeling one loosen the tiniest bit.

He heard several grunts, followed by some thuds.

A moment later, a slim figure strode in.

Callie.

“Shit, Cal,” Brooks muttered.

She was coated in dust with a smear of blood on her cheek. Her straight, black hair was in a ponytail swinging behind her. Her parents were Japanese-Hawaiian and it showed in her gorgeous face, and her pale gray eyes were unique and lovely. She held a handgun at her side. Badass.

“Brooks, are you okay?” She briefly touched his cheek.

He nodded.

She circled around him, setting to work on his ropes.

She was so beautiful and badass. Brooks had been in awe of her from the moment he’d joined Team 52.

“Is the team here?”

“Just me. I called it in when I found you. I was doing a little snooping around, looking for you, and spotted the car that took you.” She smiled. “Team’s on the way. When I heard they wanted to take your toes, I couldn’t wait.”

One of Brooks’ hands was free. He lifted it and shook it to clear the numbness in his fingers. He reached up and touched her arm.

“Thanks, Cal.”

Her smile widened. She had such a pretty smile.

“Any time.”

Suddenly, they heard the scrape of something on concrete. One of the goons staggered through the door. He was big, blood running down the side of his face.

“You didn’t hit me hard enough, bitch.” He raised a gun and fired.

Callie dove to the ground. Brooks flinched.

She scrambled up, trying to raise her weapon. Another bullet hit the concrete by her feet. She rolled away, and by the time she righted herself, the man tackled her.

A shot went wild, the bullet lodging in the ceiling above. Brooks fought to untie his other hand.

The fight was vicious. Callie and the goon rolled around on the ground, kicking and hitting.

The asshole slammed some heavy punches into Callie. Damn, the guy had to have at least eighty pounds on her.

She kneed the goon in the gut, and he slammed into the wall. Callie got to her feet, just as the man reached out and grabbed a piece of wood on the floor. He swung it at her.

“Callie, watch out!” Brooks yelled.

She jumped back. The man heaved to his feet and swung again. She ducked the wood, driving a fist into the man’s gut. He staggered backward.

Screw the hand. Brooks stood, dragging the chair with him. He moved close and swung the chair. It slammed into the man’s back and the binding broke, freeing Brooks from the chair.

Dazed, the goon leaned forward, wavering on his feet. Callie jumped up and kicked him in the chest. He fell back hard with a grunt, his head cracking on the concrete.

Callie landed in a crouch and she looked up at Brooks. They grinned at each other.

Then Brooks spotted a flash of movement at the door.

Two goons rushed in. One rammed into Callie, smashing her into the wall. He thrust a stun gun into Callie’s side, and she slumped instantly.

“No!” Brooks shouted.

The other goon spun and rushed at Brooks. He found himself slammed to the ground.

“This location has been compromised,” Mr. Ordinary’s voice came from nearby. “She will have called for backup. We’re leaving. Now.”

Brooks turned his head. He was gratified to see Ordinary’s face was swelling. Callie had gotten a good hit in when she’d taken him down.

A goon yanked Brooks’ arms together in front of him and his hands were tied again. Ignoring the pain, he looked at Callie.

Her face was turned away from him and she was so still.

Cal. He wanted to touch her, make sure she was okay.

One of the goons tied Callie’s hands behind her back. “The woman?”

“Bring her. Let’s go.”

Something slammed into Brooks’ head. Then there was nothing but blackness.

CHAPTER THREE

Callie woke to pain and a rocking sensation. She stifled a groan and opened her eyes. She was lying on the floor, in the back of a van.

Carefully, she catalogued her injuries. Nothing life-threatening, thank God.

Now, where the hell was she, and how had she gotten here?

She glanced over and saw the broad back of a man lying beside her. She was hit by a cascade of memories.

Brooks.

Body tensing, she tried to reach for him, but realized her hands were bound behind her back. Dammit. She glanced up and spotted two men sitting in front. She shuffled closer and pressed against Brooks. His body was warm, and the air rushed out of her.

“Brooks?” She kept her voice to a whisper. “Brooks?”

No response. She maneuvered herself so she could brush her cheek against his hair. The brown strands were thick and silky.

She glanced down at the tattoos on his muscular arms. So many different colors and designs. He’d told her the stories about each one—images from his favorite games and movies, pictures to commemorate milestones in his life.

That was Brooks, bright and full of life.

“Brooks?”

A faint groan.

“Shh,” she hushed.

He turned his head and their noses brushed. His brown eyes were open, a little unfocused. One was swollen and red. “Callie?”

“Hey.” She nuzzled his cheek.

He blinked. “Where—?”

“Quiet. We’re in a van. They’re taking us somewhere.”

“Shit.” He swallowed. “The team?”

“They’ll look for us.” Callie wrinkled her nose. “The assholes stripped me of my gear.”

“So, no tracker,” Brooks murmured.

She shook her head. Her phone was no doubt smashed to pieces somewhere.

He gingerly rolled over and she saw him grimace. Her gaze dropped to his shirt, and despite the circumstances, she felt the urge to laugh. It had a picture of Chewbacca on it and above the wookiee’s head, it said “Party animal.”

Only Brooks could make her want to laugh in circumstances like this.

“What do they want?” she asked.

“They want me to hack the Team 52 database.”

Crap. “They’re looking for an artifact?”

“That’s my guess. I refused to help them.”

Her pulse spiked. “Stupid.” They could have really hurt him. “But brave.”

He gave her a lopsided grin. “I can be badass too, you know.”

“Any idea who they are?”

Brooks shook his head. “Mr. Ordinary is in charge, has a team of thick-necked goons. No idea who they are.”

“We need a plan.” Callie thought things through. She needed to get herself and Brooks out of here, preferably alive. But escaping from a moving vehicle had low odds of success. “We’ll have to wait until we get where we’re going,” she told him. “Then we’ll plan our escape.”

He dragged in a breath and nodded.

She guessed it was about another hour before the van slowed. She felt the vehicle turn, pulling off a smooth, paved road, onto a bumpier track.

Finally, they stopped.

Brooks’ hands were tied in front of him and he squeezed her arm. She met his gaze, his brown eyes worried, but steady.

Then the back of the van opened, and bright sunlight spilled in. Shit, they’d obviously been driving long enough for the sun to come up.

They yanked Brooks out first, and a second later, hands gripped her legs and slid her out of the van.

As soon as she was upright, she glared at Goon One. He was about six feet tall, muscled, with a gun holstered under one arm.

Brooks was standing beside Goon Two—who was shorter and stockier, with a beaten-up face that said he liked to box. She shifted closer to Brooks.

“Move.” Goon Two shoved them both forward.

As they started to walk, Callie glanced around, cataloguing their surroundings. It was some sort of property in the desert, with a sand-covered yard ringed by a dilapidated wire fence. She stared in the distance, seeing no other buildings close by. But there were hills on the horizon. She frowned. Those were not the hills close to Las Vegas.

Damn, how far were they from Vegas? This wasn’t the Mojave.

Nearby, a small adobe house sat crumbling. It was one step above a ruin. The goons ushered them around it to an outbuilding. It looked even worse than the house, and had probably been a shed or a stable at one time.

When they walked through the open doorway, it took a second for her eyes to adjust to the gloom. Her gut tightened. There were three cells in the building, each one side by side. Adobe walls separated them, and they had bars at the front.

Callie was shoved into the first cell. She stumbled and turned, watching as the door clanged shut after her.

One of the men yanked on Brooks. “No cell for you.”

“Fuck you,” Brooks replied.

“Boss wants more of a chat with you in the house. You have work to do.”

Callie watched, helpless, as they dragged Brooks out. His gaze caught Callie’s just before he disappeared out of the building.

Shit. She kicked the bars. There wasn’t a damn thing she could do. She couldn’t get out of the cell, couldn’t help him.

Callie dropped to her knees. She tried to escape the plastic ties on her wrists, but the more she worked them, the more she rubbed her wrists raw. Finally, she gave up.

What now? She stared at the doorway. She hoped Brooks was okay.

Then she heard it. A long, pained roar.

She leaned her forehead against the bars.

She heard another cry. Oh, Brooks.

They were hurting him, torturing him. She forced herself to pull in some deep breaths. A part of her, the healer, wanted to be there. To soothe him and make it better.

That need had driven her to become a medic, and then a pararescueman in the Air Force. She had a built-in need to heal.

Another long, agonized cry and she squeezed her eyes closed.

Brooks was hers—part of her team, her friend. Worry and fear twisted in her gut.

Callie was a healer, but she was also a fighter. That part of her wanted to make the assholes hurting him pay.

Hold on, Brooks. Hold on.

BROOKS WAS JUST a mass of throbbing pain.

He couldn’t even walk. As the two goons carted him back to his cell, his boots dragged through the sand, leaving a trail.

His brain felt like mush, and his body was still shivering. There was light, then shadow. He heard the squeak of metal hinges, and then he was dumped onto cool, cracked concrete.

His cheek hit the floor and he groaned. Metal clanged.

A second later he heard a woman’s voice. “Brooks. Oh, God, Brooks.”

He blinked. “Callie?” That was Callie’s worried voice. He forced his eyelids to open.

He heard the faint scrape of someone shifting, and realized she was directly on the other side of the thin, adobe wall.

“Talk to me,” she said.

“I’m…here,” he croaked.

“How badly are you hurt?”

“I’ll live.” He hoped to hell that was the truth, because he didn’t want to die. “They—” he swallowed hard “—had a car battery, electrocuted me.”

“Assholes,” she spat.

Her harsh, cutting tone was like a blade. He knew Callie was a medic at heart, but he also knew she could fight and protect as well. She was strong, tough, and gorgeous. So totally out of his league.

“I’m okay now.” He tried to move, but the pain was so bad he thought he might pass out. He was no longer wearing a shirt. “Fuckers shredded my favorite T-shirt.”

“I don’t care about your shirt. Are you having any difficulty breathing? Any numbness or tingling?”

“No. Just sore.”

“I’m here, Brooks.”

He heard her sit down.

“I told them I couldn’t hack the Team 52 database,” Brooks said. “They wouldn’t listen.”

“Just rest. You did well.”

Acid swirled around in his stomach. They’d come for him again. They were after something and they had a real hard on for it.

Brooks swallowed. “I’m afraid.”

A pause. “Me too.”

He raised a brow. “You’re never afraid. You and the team rush into danger constantly. Without blinking an eye.”

“It’s different when you’re equipped, armed, and have backup. Especially when you’ve got a well-trained and experienced team with you. And definitely when you have a super-smart tech guy at the other end of your earpiece.”

Brooks grunted, feeling a hint of pride through the pain. But his damn eyelids felt so heavy.

He heard her calling his name again. He loved the sound of her voice. “I’m…awake.”

“I do feel fear,” she said. “I try to embrace it and use it on a mission. But I know how it can eat at you, poison you until you freeze.”

Brooks frowned. There was something in her voice, but his head was too foggy to put the pieces together.

“It’s the worst when you’re alone and have no idea what to do.”

He pressed a palm to the wall. “Callie?”

She pulled in an audible breath. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to make things worse. We aren’t alone. We’ll get through this.”

“Yeah.” He wanted her safe, but there was a part of him that was damn glad he wasn’t alone.

But suddenly, Brooks really wanted to know when Callie had been alone and afraid.

Then his mind drifted and he heard someone humming. Shit, it was him.

Callie’s startled laugh made him blink his eyes open.

“Are you humming ‘The Imperial March’ from Star Wars?” she asked.

“Maybe.”

“You’re a total geek.” There was affection in her tone.

Yeah. He couldn’t deny it. He’d been smart from a baby and fast-tracked through school. He’d been a skinny nerd, several years younger than his fellow high schoolers. They might as well have painted a target on his head.

He was damn glad when he’d finally shot up and filled out. He’d hit the gym, and then things had changed. But he’d never deny what he was. He was way better with the computer than with people.

“Hey,” he said. “You recognized the Imperial March. Maybe you’re a closet geek.”

She made a sniffing sound. “I don’t think so.”

Despite the fucked-up circumstances, he smiled.

“When we get home, we’re going to spend a whole day gaming and eating pizza,” she said. “At your place, since your TV is bigger.”

Brooks could picture it and it sounded like heaven. He smiled, wincing at the pain. “Deal.” He loved hanging with her. “And definitely my place. Your TV should have been retired three years ago.”

“It’s only two years old!” A light laugh. “I’m going to kick your ass at Call of Duty, Jameson.”

“Dream on, Kimura.”

Noises. Voices getting closer. His gut cramped.

“Callie.”

“I’m here.” But her voice was tense.

The goons were back. They stopped in front of Brooks’ cell, opened the door, then dragged him up. Pain radiated through his body, and he groaned.

“He needs medical attention!” Callie called out.

“Quiet,” Goon One barked.

Goon Two moved and opened Callie’s cell. He grabbed her arm.

“Any trouble and I’ll break your legs,” he growled.

What the hell? Brooks opened his mouth, but she shook her head.

The two of them were led up to the main house. Mr. Ordinary met them in the empty, dust-laden living room. There were a couple of battered chairs, and a desk with a computer on it. And that damn car battery resting on a rickety table.

Brooks swallowed. The guy looked so mild-mannered and normal. But Brooks should know by now that evil rarely looked like evil.

A hard push from behind shoved him into the chair in front of the computer.

Goon Two kept a hold of Callie.

Brooks saw that she was looking at him, or more importantly his chest. They’d cut his shirt off him during their last bout of fun and games. He watched her gaze roam over the burn marks and bruises. Her jaw firmed and something shifted in her dark gaze.

“I told you, I can’t hack the system.” Brooks looked at Ordinary. “It’s not possible.”

“Perhaps I haven’t offered you the right incentive,” Mr. Ordinary said.

Brooks gritted his teeth and shrugged. “It’s not about incentive. Torture me again. You’ll get the same results.”

The man made a humming noise. “Oh, we aren’t going to torture you, Mr. Jameson.” He turned his head. “String her up.”

Brooks’ stomach dropped away. He swiveled and watched Callie struggle against her captors. The two goons changed her bindings, tying her arms above her head. One grabbed a chain hanging off a beam from the ceiling and looped it through her hands. With a yank, she was pulled upright until only her toes were on the floor. Her tank top rode up, showing a strip of smooth flesh at her waist.

The glare she shot the men was hot enough to strip paint.

“Now,” Mr. Ordinary said. “Get me access to your team’s database.”

Brooks tasted bile. “I can’t.”

One of the goons moved to the car battery, lifting the leads connected to it. Before Brooks could say anything else, the man jammed the leads against Callie’s belly.

Her body jolted and her teeth clamped together.

“No!” Brooks roared.

CHAPTER FOUR

Callie tried to breathe through the pain.

Her gaze locked with Brooks’, horror stamped on his rugged face.

The goon hit her again, and her body shuddered under the voltage. God. Damn.

“Callie.” Brooks’ voice broke.

“It’s…okay, Brooks.” She panted. Her brain was racing, and her gaze focused on his chest. His hard, muscled chest. His tattoos were so sexy and gorgeous.

“I can’t hack the system,” he yelled at the man in charge. “They’ve changed access, and there is no way in.”

The goon touched the leads to Callie again, electricity running through her body.

When it finally stopped, she was drenched in perspiration and shivering. She tried to focus on the room around her, and heard a scuffle.

Brooks was fighting, trying to get free of the goon pinning him to the chair. Brooks landed a good punch and the man staggered back.

“I can’t do it,” Brooks yelled. “Even if I wanted to. Stop hurting her!”

“He’s…telling the truth,” she managed to push out.

The boss man paused, taking her in for a long moment. She could totally see why Brooks had nicknamed him Mr. Ordinary. He looked like a school-teacher. His gaze turned back to Brooks again.

“Take her down,” Brooks pleaded. “Hurt me instead.”

Warmth bloomed in Callie. He was such a good guy.

“I need to find the wind jewel,” Ordinary said.

Wind jewel? Callie frowned.

Brooks frowned as well. “I’ve never heard of it.”

“The ehecailacocozcatl of the god, Quetzalcoatl.”

Brooks shook his head again. “What is that? Mayan? Aztec?”

“Quetzalcoatl was the Aztec god of wind and wisdom. His Mayan equivalent was Kukulkan, and the Inca called him Viracocha. He commanded wind, air, storms, and thunderbolts.”

Shit. Callie ran her tongue over her teeth. If the wind jewel was ancient tech that could control storms, they did not need these guys getting their hands on it.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Brooks said.

Mr. Ordinary’s blue eyes narrowed. “I have intel that says your team retrieved an ancient weapon in Antarctica last year.”

Fuck. Callie traded a glance with Brooks. The Antarctica mission, where they’d saved some archeologists and security specialists from Treasure Hunter Security, was classified. They’d also recovered a dangerous weapon called a vajra.

Brooks shook his head. “I don’t—”

The goon hit Callie with the leads again. Her teeth snapped together, and she groaned through the pain.

“Stop!” Brooks yelled.

“Don’t lie to me,” the man said.

“The Antarctica artifact was from India,” Brooks said. “Of Hindu origin.”

Mr. Ordinary stared at him. “I think perhaps you’re finally telling me the truth.”

“We don’t have this wind jewel,” Brooks said. “Now, let Callie go.”

“I must find the jewel. My boss is very insistent.”

“Who’s your boss?” Callie asked.

Ordinary shot her a sharp smile. “A woman with grand plans to save us all.”

By finding a powerful, ancient weapon. Sure. Callie managed to contain her snort.

Ordinary shoved his hands in his pockets. “Very well, if your team can’t give me the artifact I need, then we move to Plan B. I’ll need you to hack some different data on the wind jewel.”

Brooks looked belligerent.

“I want you to hack the Smithsonian, Mr. Jameson.”

Callie hid her reaction. The Smithsonian had a huge repository of information on artifacts from all around the world.

Mr. Ordinary strode over to Callie, and circled around her hanging body. “Otherwise, I will hurt your lovely friend some more. More than she can bear.”

Brooks swallowed.

Callie shook her head. “Brooks, don’t—”

“It’s okay, Cal.” He sat at the computer and then looked up at Ordinary. “You’ll let us go afterward?”

“Of course.”

Callie heard the lie in the man’s voice. The asshole couldn’t keep them alive. The two of them knew too much, and had seen his face.

Mr. Ordinary nodded to the goon beside Callie. The man pulled his Glock and pressed it against Callie’s knee.

“Get to work, Mr. Jameson.”

Brooks shot Ordinary a molten glare, then his fingers flew over the keyboard, concentration on his face.

Callie knew Brooks was damn good at what he did. He’d hack the Smithsonian.

She hoped these assholes did not find what they were looking for.

But before Brooks succeeded, she needed to think of a way to get them out of here.

BROOKS WAS TOSSED ROUGHLY BACK in his cell. He barely caught himself from smashing his face into the floor.

Next door, he heard them shove Callie into her cell as well. Then the goons were gone, laughing and joking as they left.

Brooks scrambled up and moved to the wall. “Callie?”

“Here.” Her voice was rough.

He reached through the bars, trying to reach her cell. He stretched his arm out as far as he could.

Her fingers brushed his.

Brooks shuddered. The connection helped.

“You’re okay?” he asked.

“Sure. Could grab my surfboard and hit the waves, no problems.”

He smiled. “You like to surf?”

“I grew up in Hawaii.” The duh was in her voice.

“Hey, I didn’t want to assume a stereotype.” He could totally picture her on a board—lean and sleek in a tiny bikini.

His cock stirred. Shit. He had no right to picture her in a bikini. This was Callie. She would never look at him that way.

“I’m sorry they hurt you,” he said.

“You don’t have anything to be sorry about. You didn’t hurt me.” Her fingers stroked his wrist.

“If I hadn’t been so distracted, they might not have grabbed me—”

“Brooks, they sent a team after you. I saw the footage. None of us could have escaped that, not even Lachlan.”

Lachlan had pure badass running through his veins. He probably could have stopped it, or at least taken down a few guys in the process.

Brooks sighed. “I supposed my computer part is long gone.”

“Actually, I have it in my car. When we get home, it’s all yours.”

“One ray of light.” He smiled, but it died quickly. He shifted on the hard concrete. “What if what I did helps them?”

He’d cracked the Smithsonian’s system like an egg.

Callie’s fingers stroked his wrist again. “Let’s worry about one thing at a time.”

Brooks leaned his head against the bars and started to hum. The main Star Wars theme song. A second later, Callie joined in, completely off-key.

He laughed. “You told me you hate Star Wars.”

“I don’t, although I’m not fond of the prequels. No way a smart, accomplished senator would fall for a whiny, complaining teenager.”

“He was powerful and badass.”

“I find other qualities much more important.”

Brooks desperately wanted to know what those qualities were. He tried to remember the last guy Callie had brought to team drinks or a barbecue. It’d been a while, so he couldn’t remember.

“Brooks?” Her tone had turned serious. “Mr. Ordinary is in there, combing through that Smithsonian data. If he finds what he needs on this jewel…”

Brooks’ other hand curled around the bars.

“He’ll kill us,” she finished.

“Damn, I figured you were going to say that.” Brooks sucked in a deep breath. The thought of anyone killing Callie made his stomach curdle. Shit.

“Brooks, you’ve held it together so well, don’t fall apart on me now.”

He grunted. “I’m used to assholes beating me up. I won’t let these ones get me down.”

“What?”

“Well…I was a total geek in school.”

“No way.” Her sarcasm was unmissable.

“Hey. I was a few years younger than the rest of the guys in my year, and I was a big-time nerd. I got beaten up a lot. And I was incredibly awkward with girls.”

“But you’re a hunk of gorgeousness,” she said.

He blinked, warmth punching through him. She thought he was gorgeous? “Um, I didn’t fill out until my late teens. I was at college by then.”

“Well, you definitely filled out just right.” A pause. “Brooks, we need to escape or we’re dead.”

“Shit, okay. What’s our plan?”

“Well, my hands are tied behind my back.”

“Okay.” They hadn’t bothered to re-tie Brooks.

“So, when the guard comes to get us or bring us food, you need to attack him.”

Brooks pulled in a long breath. “I can do that.”

“You can’t let him get away. If you attack, you attack to kill.”

Brooks froze. “I’ve never killed anyone before, Cal.”

“It’s never easy.” Her voice was solemn.

But he had to do this. In order to get out alive, in order for him to save Callie, he had to do it. “Okay. I’ve got this.”

“Do you have anything that you can use as a weapon?”

He glanced around his cell. His bare cell. Rising, he did a quick lap. “There’s nothing.” He kicked into the wall.

“Look carefully. The most ordinary objects can be used as a weapon.”

He moved back to the bars. That’s when he spotted it. One of the bars was rusted and broken through. He reached out and snapped it off. “I have a piece of metal bar.”

“Good,” she said. “You’re strong. Get him down, and use the bar to cut off his air.”

Jeez. His fingers clenched on the bar.

“You can do this, Brooks. I’m right here.”

“Okay, Callie.”

“Once he’s down, get the keys. Then we’ll make a run for it. You’ve got this.”

All too soon, Brooks heard the footsteps of one of the guards. Goon One entered, holding two plates of food.

“Hope you guys are hungry. I have some shitty rice and beans for you.” He laughed. “Didn’t even spit in it.”

Asshole. Brooks swallowed, his fingers tight on the bar.

The goon unlocked the door to Callie’s cell, stepped in, and then shoved the plate across the floor. He locked her door again.

Then he shoved the key in the lock on Brooks’ cell. Brooks dragged in a deep breath.

The door opened, and when the man took one step in, Brooks attacked.

CHAPTER FIVE

Callie listened to the harsh grunts and thuds coming from the next cell.

She bit down on her lip. “Brooks, you can do this.”

The scuffling continued, and her nails dug into her palms. Be okay. Be okay.

She knew a life-and-death fight was going on in the cell next door. She leaned closer to the wall. More grunts. A pained sound.

“Brooks?”

“Choking…him.”

Callie closed her eyes. “I know it isn’t easy. Don’t hesitate. It’s him or us.”

More choking noises. Then silence, except for the sound of harsh breathing.

She rose up on her knees. “Brooks?”

She heard the rattle of keys and then Brooks appeared in front of her cell. He had a scratch down his cheek, and his face was strained, his eyes wide.

With shaking hands, he found the right key and inserted it in the lock on her cell door. As soon as the door opened, Callie staggered to her feet and moved to him. She pressed her face against his chest.

Strong arms closed around her.

He let out a harsh expulsion of air. “I just killed a guy.”

She pressed into him harder. “Him or us.”

Brooks gave her a short nod.

Her body moved against his and she noted that he was pure muscle. She blinked. She knew he worked out, but she’d never noticed his thighs before.

Shaking her head, she went into Brooks’ cell. The guard was sprawled on the floor, the metal bar beside him. Crouching sideways, she awkwardly pulled a knife off the man’s belt.

“Come on.” She held the knife out. “Cut me loose.”

Brooks took the knife and cut her bindings. As soon as her hands were free, she gave them a quick shake. Brooks stared down at the man.

Crouching, Callie checked the man, searching for anything they could use. She took the man’s Glock, checked it, and tucked it into the waistband of her jeans.

“I can’t believe I took a life,” Brooks said quietly.

She straightened. “Well…you haven’t.”

His brow creased. “What?”

“Sorry to break it to you, Brooks, but you didn’t kill him.”

“Come again?”

“He’s out cold, but he’d not dead. He’s still breathing.”

Brooks ran a hand through his ruffled hair. “Hell, I’m not sure if I’m happy or disappointed.”

“You can ponder the issue later. We need to get out of here.”

He nodded. His chest was still bare, and she reached up, touching the bruises and burns. Nothing too bad, but she itched to get them cleaned up and treated.

As she stroked his skin, he got a funny look on his face.

Then he cleared his throat, shifting his feet. “We need to go, right?”

“Right. Take the shirt off the guard. You can’t travel through the desert without protection from the sun.”

Brooks nodded. With a few grunts and a little maneuvering, he got the shirt off the guard. He slipped it on, doing up the buttons. It was a size too small for him, his muscles stretching it to the limits, but it would have to do. Callie quickly used the rope that had bound her to tie up the goon.

Then they were headed outside. Callie scanned the nearby area and her pulse leaped. No cars. Not a single vehicle.

All she saw beyond the dilapidated house was desert. Unforgiving desert.

“Looks like no one else is here,” she murmured. “We’ll check the main house and grab any gear that might be useful.”

Brooks nodded.

“Stay here.”

Callie hurried up to the side of the house. She circled around, checking through the grimy, cracked windows.

No sign of Mr. Ordinary or any other guards. She waved Brooks over.

They entered, quickly passing through the small house. Callie found a backpack and filled it with water bottles, granola bars, packets of nuts and jerky. Thank God the guards clearly liked their snacks. She also found a dusty blanket and shook it out. From the small first aid kit, she took some painkillers and bandages.

“Here.” She held up two pills and a bottle of water. “Take those. They’ll dull the pain.”

He took them from her. “You take some too.”

“I’m—”

“We have to make it through the desert, Callie.”

She nodded and swallowed some of the painkillers. As she did, she saw Brooks scowl at the car battery, then he moved to the window.

He stiffened. “Cal, cloud of dust incoming.”

Moving beside him, she looked out.

A car was headed right toward them. “Quick, let’s go out the back.”

They exited and Callie led them straight to the desert, making sure they were out of the line of sight of the incoming car. They climbed over a collapsed wire fence and hadn’t gotten far, before she heard the car engine.

“Down.”

They both dropped down into a shallow gully. The sand was hot under her palms.

Callie peered over the rim of the depression and watched the car pull up near the house. Mr. Ordinary climbed out.

“Arizona plates,” she murmured.

“You think we’re in Arizona?”

“Maybe.” She watched Ordinary and three of his goons head into the house. A second later, they came back out at a jog, headed for the cells.

Pandemonium broke out. The remaining goons dragged the unconscious guard out of the shed. Ordinary was waving his hands around and yelling.

“Come on,” she said. “Let’s put some more distance between them and us. Stay low.”

Bent over, they followed the gully, using the sparse desert shrub for cover.

“Where are we headed?” Brooks asked.

“I think we’re pretty close to the border, so they’ll probably expect us to head north. We’re going to do the opposite and go south.”

His eyebrows rose. “To the border?”

“Not all the way. We’ll track west when we can.”

As soon as they were out of sight of the house, they straightened up and picked up speed. The sun beat down on them, hot as Hades. Still, she’d suffered through worse in Afghanistan, and Brooks didn’t complain. She set a fast pace and soon perspiration ran down her back.

They couldn’t go for too long in the heat or they’d risk heatstroke. She kept an eye out for shelter, but didn’t see anywhere that offered much shade.

“Drink break.” She pulled out a bottle of water and took a sip. She handed it to Brooks.

He took a healthy swallow before he screwed the lid back on. Handing it back, he nodded.

They set off again, and it wasn’t long before Callie’s unprotected skin tingled from the sun. She looked at Brooks. His skin was a shade darker than hers, and although he was more covered than she was, she worried about him. Still, this geek was built tough.

Finally, Callie spotted a rocky outcrop. “There. We can rest there until nightfall. It’ll be cooler to travel at night, and we can cover more ground then.”

They found a little overhang and Callie picked up a stick, banging the ground and rock to make sure there were no residents of the scaly kind.

“Damn, it’s hot,” Brooks muttered. “I’d kill for a pool right now.”

She pulled the blanket out and laid it down in the shade. Brooks pulled off his borrowed shirt and tipped his head back, drinking water again.

This time, Callie’s gaze moved across his hard pecs and defined abs. He didn’t have much chest hair, so his smooth skin was on display. She mentally traced around some of the tattoos, then up to his neck, watching his throat work as he drank.

A very different kind of heat suddenly spiraled through her.

What the hell? She quickly looked away and grabbed another bottle of water. She took a big gulp.

She’d never thought of Brooks that way. He was a friend. Sure, she was a medic with a good appreciation for a healthy, male body, but…it was Brooks.

“Thanks, Callie.”

She looked back at him. “For what?”

“For coming for me. For saving me.”

“I hate to burst your bubble, Brooks, but you saved us back there. What you did in that cell was tough, and you didn’t hesitate.” She bumped her shoulder against his.

He slid his arm around her, hugging her close.

She hugged him back, figuring they both needed it.

But the solid feel of him had that traitorous, confusing heat curling around in her belly.

She cleared her throat. “Let’s get some rest while we can. We’ll need our energy later.”

BROOKS WOKE FROM THE HEAT. It wasn’t just the warm air around him, but the very warm female body pressed against his.

Mmm. He was curled around her smaller form and the faint scent of coconuts hit him. Must be her shampoo. He stroked his hand down her side, fingers stroking smooth skin, and she made a sexy sound.

Oh, yeah, he felt that husky noise in his cock. He let his hand drift up and cup one small, but perfectly formed breast.

With another sexy sound, she pressed into his palm, and her sweet ass moved against him. He nudged his throbbing cock against her ass.

She turned her head and he saw gorgeous, shiny, black hair.

He lifted his gaze and met Callie’s gray eyes.

Callie.

They both jerked apart.

Shit. Crap. His brain wasn’t firing, and he tried to shake the last of the sleep off.

Callie sat up and licked her lips. The movement made him look at her mouth. Her sexy mouth, with its plump bottom lip…

Look away, Jameson.

She cleared her throat. “I was still asleep.”

“Me, too,” he said hurriedly.

Then her gaze dropped, skating over his bare chest. He quickly turned away and grabbed his shirt.

Slipping it on, he tried to calm himself down. Shitballs. His cock was as hard as steel, and it wasn’t interested in going down, either. It was hard. For Callie.

She’d turned her back to him and was tying her hair up. His gaze dropped to her ass. No, don’t look at her ass.

“The sun’s setting.” She rummaged around in the backpack, then handed him a granola bar and a packet of peanuts. “We need to travel while it’s cool.”

He nodded, and got busy eating the bar. It could have tasted like cardboard for all the attention he gave it.

Callie packed up the blanket, her movements brisk and business-like. Did she feel the tension like he did? Or had she just shaken off their sleep-induced sexy times? He started on the packet of peanuts.

She looked up. “Ready?”

He swallowed the last of his dinner and took a swig of water. “Ready.”

They left the rocky outcrop, moving across the uneven ground. It was rockier here, but they found a good pace. Brooks was thankful for the extra miles he’d been running on the treadmill lately.

He watched the moon rising—a big, bright orb in the dark sky.

“Our guys will be scrambling to find us,” he said.

“Yeah. And they’ll be forced to use the computer without you there to do it.” Callie snorted. “Lachlan types with two fingers. It’s painful to watch.”

Brooks smiled but it died quickly. “This is not how I imagined my week going.”

“What did you have planned? Call of Duty, Gears of War, some geeky computer things?”

“Pretty much. And breakfast with my family.” They’d be worried as hell.

“Lachlan will have called them. Your family rocks.”

“They do.” His family had met Team 52, and loved them all. His family was a wild, loud bunch. His dad was a college football coach, one of Brooks’ brothers was a personal trainer, the other was a firefighter, and his mom was the loudest and boldest of them all. The former Marine was several inches taller than Brooks’ dad, and had a voice set to maximum volume at all times.

Brooks loved them. He was the odd one out in the family—the geeky one who’d loved books and computers instead of football and cars—but they loved him just the way he was.

“Let’s take a short break.” Callie sat down.

He sat and winced. Some of his bruises were pure agony now, and the raw burns were stinging like hell.

“You’re in pain,” she said.

He met her gaze. “Nothing I can’t handle. You must feel just as bad.”

Her lips quirked. “My muscles ache like hell.” She let out a breath, then reached up, running a finger over his lip. “This is torn up, and one of your burns looks nasty. Wish I had a damn first aid kit.”

“I’m fine, Cal.”

She hunched her shoulders and he felt the tension throbbing off her.

He frowned. “You okay?”

“Yes.” She pushed her ponytail back over her shoulder. “I…just hate seeing you hurt.”

He shrugged a shoulder. “A few bruises and burns. I’m all right.”

She nodded, but as she turned to look at the desert, he studied her profile. She still looked upset.

He crouched beside her and touched her hair. “Cal, talk to me.”

She sniffed. “I’m a medic. I hate seeing people hurt.”

“This seems like more than that.”

She looked out into the darkness, her face hidden by the shadows. “I hate seeing people I care about hurt.”

He felt those quiet words deep inside.

“Do you know why I became a medic?” she asked.

“No.” The air suddenly felt thick around them, in a bad way.

“I had a sister.”

Had. Shit.

“Okay,” he said carefully.

“Her name was Bec and she was three years younger than me.” A faint smile. “She lived to make my life hell. Always getting into my things, trying to steal my clothes.”

Sounded like normal sisterly stuff to him.

“I was sixteen.” Callie paused and dragged in a breath. “My dad had gone to pick Bec up from dance practice. They never made it home.”

Brooks’ gut clenched.

“We were a happy family. All of us. We got on well, like yours does. I’d just gotten my license and was constantly borrowing my mom’s car. That day, I went out searching for them.” Her next breath was shallow. “There’d been a bad thunderstorm that afternoon. All our friends and extended family were out looking for them. I was the one that found them.”

Shit. “I’m here, Callie.” He moved closer, taking her hand.

Her fingers clenched tight on his. “They’d crashed. They’d run off the road and slid down into a shallow ravine. I climbed down to them… Dad was already gone.” She trembled.

Brooks held her hand tighter.

“Bec was still alive, but she was badly injured.” Callie looked at him. “I had no idea what to do. There was so much blood. I was a smart, pretty, high school student who was more concerned with driving around with her friends and cheerleading. I had no clue about first aid.”

“I’m sorry, Callie.”

“There was so much blood, and I couldn’t help her. Even when she was crying for me to help, I couldn’t.”

Screw this. Brooks pulled Callie to his chest. “It’s not your fault, Callie. Maybe there was nothing you could have done, even if you’d been trained.”

“I just held her hand as the life leaked out of her.”

“Then she wasn’t alone. That’s important.”

Her arms snaked around him, holding on tight. He pressed his face against her hair.

“I’m glad I wasn’t alone this last day,” he said. “I wouldn’t have made it out of there without you.” He nuzzled her hair.

Callie touched her neck, and when he pulled back, he saw her fingering the necklace she always wore.

“This was Bec’s. She collected charms.” A sad smile crossed Callie’s face. “They were all dancing related. She loved to dance.”

“And I bet she’d love knowing you wear it.” He pulled her face back to his chest and felt her hands grip his shirt. He wished he could take away her pain, or say something to make her feel better. All he could do was hold her.

They stayed like that for a long time, sitting in the moonlight in the middle of the desert.

“We need to move.” She straightened, swiping her arm across her face.

He nodded and rose.

“Brooks?”

He glanced back at her.

“Thanks.”

CHAPTER SIX

Holy cow, she was having very non-friend-like feelings for Brooks.

Callie gestured him to pass through some boulders ahead of her. She slipped in behind him, navigating the rough ground. The guy was built. She’d noticed before, but she’d never noticed.

It had been hard to miss the very hard, very large bulge pressed against her when they’d woken earlier. Or the big hand stroking her breast.

Hitching up the backpack, she looked at the back of his head. It wasn’t just physical attraction churning up her belly. It was more than that. Brooks was a nice guy. He was easy to talk to, fun to be around, smart.

Her toes smacked into a large rock and she almost tripped. Shaking her head, she huffed out a breath.

“Okay?” he called back.

“Fine.” Focus on the life-threatening situation, Kimura, not Brooks Jameson’s ass, tattoos, or cock.

The moon had fully risen, and the moonlight seemed brighter now, helping them traverse the terrain. It drenched the desert in silver light.

Callie moved to take the lead again. She set a solid pace, and Brooks kept up without complaint. She was hoping they’d eventually come across a road, and then somewhere with a phone so they could call the team.

The path opened up, and she moved to walk next to Brooks. She glanced sideways. He was alert and looking around.

He’d held up incredibly well. He could handle himself, and he’d dealt with this ordeal like a trained operative.

And she’d talked about her dad and Bec with him. Callie swallowed. She hadn’t talked about them for a really long time. After they’d died, her mom had tried to talk about them all the time, but Callie just couldn’t. Now, her mother rarely mentioned them.

But her mom had never remarried and didn’t date, even though she was a beautiful woman. Losing Callie’s father had left scars on her mom.

With Brooks, the need to talk about them had just welled up inside Callie. She’d wanted to get it out.

She trusted him.

Suddenly, she heard voices on the wind. She grabbed Brooks’ arm and jerked to a halt.

“Quiet.”

He tensed and Callie strained to hear.

The voices were getting louder.

“Down.”

They both pressed their bellies to the sand. Callie pulled out her stolen Glock with one hand, and gripped Brooks’ arm with the other. She squeezed.

Not far away, she made out a line of people. Shit. Was it Mr. Ordinary and his goons?

But as the group got closer, she saw heavy-duty weapons and heard a smattering of Spanish. Okay, not their captors. Probably drug runners or people traffickers, which still were people they needed to avoid.

She held still, barely daring to breathe, and watched the group move past them. Brooks didn’t move a muscle.

When the group was far enough away, she tugged on Brooks’ arm. They both rose.

Callie adjusted their course, angling away from the group’s direction. They moved silently and kept walking.

Finally, she calculated they were far enough away to safely speak. “Are you all right?”

“Yeah. I have sand in some bad places, though.”

She smiled. But before she could speak, a man barreled out of the darkness.

Callie saw the gun aimed her way.

Fuck. She kicked him hard and slammed a chop into his arm.

The man cursed in Spanish and swung at her.

She kicked again and the gun flew out of his hand, disappearing into the darkness. With a frustrated sound, the man tackled her. They hit the dirt and Callie grunted.

They wrestled wildly and she got a grip on him. She tried to get him into a choke hold. Shit, the guy was built like a tank. He was a lot stronger than she was.

He rolled and landed a punch to her stomach.

The air rushed out of Callie, pain spearing through her body. She released him and rolled away.

A hand sank into her hair, yanking hard. Her scalp felt like it was on fire.

She tried to turn and saw the man grin at her.

This was going to get ugly. When he yanked a knife off his belt, her chest locked. Really ugly.

She managed to shove him away, and they both got to their feet. They circled each other. She was too focused to see where Brooks was. Her attacker darted in and slashed out. Callie’s shoulder burned.

When the man rushed at her again, she blocked his next hit with her forearm.

But he came back at her again. This time, her foot slipped and she fell. The man landed on top of her, sending more pain shooting through her. He forced the blade toward her gut and bore down. She grabbed his wrists, trying to shove him back. But he pushed the knife closer and closer to her skin.

She felt the prick of it.

Callie gritted her teeth, straining. God, she was going to get stabbed to death in the middle of the desert, in the middle of nowhere.

Bang.

The man flew backward.

Sucking in air, Callie sat up, staring. There was a hole in the middle of the bastard’s forehead. She swiveled and saw Brooks holding her Glock.

Rising, she took the gun off him.

“This time I killed someone.” His voice was toneless.

“This time you saved my life.” She cupped his jaw. “We have to go. The others will have heard the shot.”

He nodded, his face wooden and blank.

Then he looked down at her, and some life came back into his face. “You’re bleeding.”

She swiped at the cut on her shoulder. “It’ll hold for now.”

She quickly grabbed her attacker’s weapon as well. Pulling Brooks behind her, they set off at a fast pace. The cut on her shoulder was stinging, but it would be far worse if drug runners or traffickers nabbed them.

As they jogged, she kept glancing at Brooks. His face was frighteningly blank, and Brooks never looked blank.

But she couldn’t deal with that now. They had to get out of here.

Lights in the distance caught her eye. Headlights.

“There’s a road,” she said.

Brooks nodded, but was still silent. They kept going, and finally, they reached a narrow, paved road.

Callie studied their surroundings, feeling heat radiating off the surface. “This way.”

Continuing to scan the nighttime darkness, they jogged up the road. A short while later, more lights came into view.

A roadhouse. Thank God. She heard the distant thump of music.

They slowed to a walk. The parking lot was filled with beaten-up trucks and a line of Harleys by the front door. She grabbed Brooks’ hand and led him around the back of the roadhouse.

“We can’t go in covered in blood.” Hopefully, there would be somewhere out back where they could clean up. “Brooks?”

“Yeah.”

She stopped and faced him. A single, dim light illuminated the area at the back of the roadhouse. “Thanks for saving me.”

He gave her a nod.

She went up on her toes and cupped his cheeks. “You had no choice. He did. He chose to attack us, and he meant us harm. He was going to kill me.”

She saw a flicker in Brooks’ eyes.

“Thank you,” she said again.

His hands moved to her wrists, gripping onto them tightly.

She hated seeing him like this. Then she decided to go with her gut.

She moved closer, leaned up, and pressed her lips to his. She kissed him gently, moving her lips over his.

Brooks came to life.

He groaned, his arms circling her body. He deepened the kiss and spun her.

Callie gasped into his mouth and found her back pressed against the wall, Brooks’ big, hard body pinning her there.

He devoured her.

Desire exploded, and Callie kissed him back hungrily.

GOD DAMN. Brooks had never felt need like this before.

The world spun, and he found his hands full of Callie’s fine ass. The kiss went on forever, tongues tangling. God, she tasted like heaven.

In the distance, a door banged open and he heard sounds—laughter, music.

It broke the moment and they pulled apart, panting. He let her go and her feet dropped back to the ground.

Jeez. Hell. Fuck.

Brooks ran his hand through his hair. “That was…” Shit, think, Brooks. “That was…”

“Adrenaline, Brooks.” Callie reached up and tightened her ponytail. “It makes you do…out-of-character things. I’m just glad you have color back in your cheeks.”

“Right. Yes, right.” Adrenaline. That was all this was. She was his friend. She’d come for him, and they’d just escaped a terrible situation.

She’d risked her life for him, and he mauled her. He sucked in a breath. Crap, now he knew what she tasted like, what her sweet ass felt like in his palms. How the hell was he supposed to forget that?

“Here.” Callie pulled him through a back door, and into a service hallway. Immediately to their right was a door that was labeled a bathroom.

The tiles had probably been white once, a long time ago. Now they were a grimy gray and covered in…unidentifiable stains.

Callie moved to the sink and turned on the water. She grabbed some paper towels from the dispenser and shoved them under the water.

“Shirt off,” she ordered.

Brooks unbuttoned his shirt, and she wiped his chest and face. Her fingers brushed his skin and he stiffened. One finger brushed his nipple and he stifled a groan.

God, this was torture.

Then he looked down at her and saw that her black tank was soaked with blood. It was smeared around a nasty cut on her shoulder. The darkness had hidden just how bad it looked.

“Hell, Callie.” He carefully gripped her bicep. “That looks—”

“It’s not too deep.”

He yanked a wad of paper towels from the wall, dampened them, then concentrated on cleaning the gash on her shoulder. The bleeding had slowed a lot, but she’d probably need stiches. Gently, he wiped the blood off her skin.

Damn, he hated seeing her hurt. He rubbed his fingers down her arm. Hated seeing blood on her gorgeous skin.

When he looked up, she was watching his face.

“Brooks.” Her voice was husky.

He realized he was stroking her. “Sorry.” He lifted his hands. “I’m totally being creepy.”

“No, you’re not.”

“We’re friends. I’m sorry I—” devoured you “—kissed you.”

“I’m not.”

He stilled. “You’re not?”

“You’re a hell of a good kisser, Brooks.” She pressed a kiss to his cheek. Then she took the towels, finishing up cleaning her shoulder. Finally, she tossed them in the overflowing trash can. “There. We’re mostly respectable enough to head into the bar and call the team.”

Brooks nodded. He couldn’t quite get his brain functioning.

They exited the small bathroom and went down the hall leading into the roadhouse. The bar was dark and the music loud. It was a pretty seedy establishment, and no one gave them more than a passing glance.

They made their way to the long, wooden bar. Callie leaned forward, talking to the bartender, and asked to use the phone. The man tossed a towel over his shoulder and nodded.

“Stay here,” she said to Brooks.

He collapsed onto a stool at the bar and watched the bartender wave Callie around the bar. Brooks noticed that the man was checking her out at the same time and scowled. He couldn’t blame the guy, since she was gorgeous, but still, it pissed him off.

She’d liked their kiss.

Could Callie…be attracted to him? Brooks tapped his foot against the stool. He wasn’t sure if he could go back to the way things had been before. Not with this hard stone of arousal in his gut and tingling awareness of her.

He released a breath. It didn’t change the fact that she was out of his league. She was beautiful, tough, accomplished. They might have some fun, but she’d lose interest eventually.

Callie finished on the phone and turned. She shot him a wide smile.

Brooks’ cock went hard. Hell. As she moved back to him, he swiveled on the stool to hide it.

“Lachlan and Seth are on the way,” she said. “They’re borrowing a helo.”

“Great.”

“As we’d guessed, we’re in Arizona. South-west corner, not far from the border.” Callie leaned against the bar. “We’ll get back, clean up, and then we’ll get to work finding out who this Mr. Ordinary works for.” Her face turned serious. “And exactly what this wind jewel is.” She patted his shoulder.

Back to business as usual.

Brooks swallowed. Once they got back, things between him and Callie would go back to normal.

He just wasn’t sure if he was happy about that, or disappointed.

CHAPTER SEVEN

It was almost anticlimactic.

Seth and Lachlan arrived in a sleek helicopter, landing outside the roadhouse. Several drunken revelers came out to watch.

As Callie jogged toward the helo with Brooks by her side, Lachlan slid his long body out. Seth, wearing a headset, waved from the cockpit.

Lachlan hugged her, and then moved to slap Brooks on the back. “Damn good to see you guys.”

Once they were settled aboard the helicopter, they lifted off. Brooks sprawled in the seat beside her, looking out over the dark desert below. Then he lifted his head and their gazes met. A faint line of color filled his cheeks.

And a curl of heat wound through Callie’s belly.

She thought back to their kiss. Who would’ve thought that Brooks Jameson could kiss like a warrior back from pillaging?

“Debrief,” Lachlan said through the headset, turning from the passenger seat in front to look at them.

Callie recapped what happened. Lachlan’s jaw got tighter and tighter.

Then he gave her a nod. “We’ll do a full debrief tomorrow, and try and find out who these guys are. Then we’ll make a plan.”

Silence fell, and when Brooks dozed off, she wasn’t surprised. It had been an intense twenty-four hours. She took her time studying his stubbled cheeks. The bit of scruff gave him a hot, rugged edge.

God. Callie tamped down her badly-misbehaving hormones.

“So, no idea who this Mr. Ordinary belongs to?” Seth asked.

Callie looked at the back of Seth’s head. “No.”

“Whoever they are, we’d better find this wind jewel before they do,” Lachlan added.

It wasn’t much longer before the lights of Las Vegas came into view. They swept in to land at McCarran Airport.

They landed right outside the Bunker, and Callie stared at the light spilling out of the windows. Damn, it was nice to be back.

Once the skids touched down, Callie reached out and touched Brooks’ shoulder. “Hey, we’re back.”

He opened his eyes and let out a jaw-cracking yawn. Then he groaned. “I’d kill for a hot shower.”

“I know the feeling.” And instantly she imagined bronze skin and ink covered in water. More heat bloomed.

He frowned. “Better take care of that cut.”

“Yes, doctor. And you have some bruising and burns that need—”

“Later,” he said.

As soon as they’d climbed out of the helo, Blair strode out of the Bunker. “Hey, no taking on bad guys alone, you two.”

The rest of the team appeared—Smith, Kinsey, Axel. There were more hugs and back slaps.

“Brooks, you’re supposed to stay in your computer room, mi hermano,” Axel said.

Brooks shrugged a shoulder. “Fancied a trek through the desert.”

“Glad you’re both okay.” Kinsey shot them a wide smile.

Once they were inside, Blair pointed to the medical room. “Kimura, get your shirt off.”

“Don’t get kinky on me, Mason.” Callie followed her friend into the small room. When she lost sight of Brooks, she felt…unsettled. They’d spent every second together for the last day.

She stripped her tank off and Blair whistled.

“Ouch.”

“Yeah. Getting electrocuted was no fun, but the guy with the knife was a total drag.” She watched Blair pull out the first aid gear. “Brooks took him down.”

“Brooks?” Blair tilted her head.

“Head shot. I would have had a nice gut wound if he hadn’t done it.”

Blair started cleaning the cut with antiseptic wipes. “Man of hidden talents.”

Callie shifted on the bench. “You can say that again.”

Blair’s hand stilled. “What was that tone of voice?”

“What tone of voice?”

“Kinda wistful, a little husky and sexy.”

Callie looked at the wall. “No idea what you’re talking about, Mason.”

“Something happened. And I don’t mean anything to do with guns, knives, or bad guys. Spill, Kimura.”

Callie pulled in a breath. Blair was one of her closest friends. “Well, he sort of kissed my brains out.”

“What?” Shock was stamped on Blair’s features. “Brooks? You mean, our Brooks?”

“Yes. You can’t have missed that the guy is built.”

“Sure, but I’ve noticed in a brotherly kind of way.”

Callie definitely was not feeling brotherly toward him. “He was freaked out after killing that guy, we were running on adrenaline. I kissed him in a sweet, comforting way…”

“And?”

“It exploded. The man kisses like a freight train. It was totally a shoved-against-the-wall, panty-melting kiss.”

Blair held a hand up. “Stop. I think I had a mini orgasm.”

Callie picked up a roll of bandage and threw it at her.

Blair’s nose wrinkled. “But this is Brooks.” Her face turned serious. “What are you going to do about it?”

“I don’t know.” Right now, Callie was feeling tired, confused, and horny. Not a good combo to be making important decisions on.

“Okay.” Blair went back to Callie’s wound. “I’m going to put some glue in this cut.”

Callie nodded.

“Whatever happens, don’t hurt him.”

Callie stiffened. “What do you mean?”

“You don’t keep guys around for very long, Cal.”

“I don’t have any time. I have a demanding job—”

“That’s not it, and we both know it.”

Callie huffed. “Are you calling me a heart-breaking hussy?”

“No. Look, two consenting adults who want to enjoy each other, that’s fine… But Brooks is a good guy.”

“I know that.” Callie sat in silence, as Blair finished up bandaging her wound. Next, she pulled out a small hand-held device. It was one of Ty’s latest toys. The laser could speed up healing bruises, taking it from days to hours. She sat still, her mind full of a tattooed geek while Blair waved the device over her body.

When they headed back into the main room, Lachlan looked up. “You look like shit, Callie.”

“Gee, thanks, boss.”

“Rest up. Grab a few hours’ sleep, then we’ll reconvene. We’re going to find these assholes and make them regret their very poor decisions.”

Lachlan’s scary golden eyes were glowing.

“Dial back the intensity, Hunter,” Blair said.

“If someone snatches any of my people, they pay.” His gold gaze moved back to Callie. “You get some rest.”

“Brooks? He has some burn and bruises that need—”

“Axel’s taking care of him. Then I’m ordering him to sleep, as well.” Lachlan jerked his head toward the stairs leading to the lower level. “Grab one of the bunk rooms.”

With a nod, Callie headed to the stairwell. They had a few rooms with beds at the Bunker for missions when they couldn’t head home. They also kept changes of clothes and other spare gear there as well.

She took a quick shower, pulled on some clean clothes—hallelujah—then went to the closest unoccupied bunk room. She was running on fumes.

Falling onto the double bed, she stared at the ceiling, expecting to crash out. In the Air Force, she’d perfected the skill of falling asleep quickly. Instead, she found herself wide awake, too many things rushing around in her head.

Callie thumped the pillow and turned on her side. Then she rolled back again.

She’d been lying there for a while when she heard the door open. Turning, she recognized the big silhouette in the doorway. Brooks.

She breathed in and the scent of clean male and soap hit her. He was wearing a clean set of jeans with a gray T-shirt stretched over his muscular chest. There was just enough light for her to make out the small, ball-shaped robot on the shirt along with the words “That’s how I roll.” He also had his glasses back on. Her womb spasmed. Those glasses…

Callie sat up and watched him close the door. She flicked on the bedside lamp.

“I wanted to check that you were okay,” he said.

She nodded and pointed to the bandage on his shoulder.

“Good.” He hovered beside the bed.

“Axel took care of your injuries?”

Brooks nodded. “Used Ty’s super-duper laser and some special gel.”

She stared at his freshly shaved face, already missing the stubble. There was faint bruising around the side of his face and a haunted look in his deep-brown eyes. Maybe the memories were also bothering him.

She held out a hand and he took it. She pulled him down beside her.

“Cal—”

“Shh, just lie down, Brooks. Relax.” She took off his dark-framed glasses and set them on the bedside table.

He lay down on the bed and then curled around her body—big, warm, delicious. His arms tightened on her, and then he pressed his face into her hair.

She felt the tension drain out of him. She turned the light off.

Surprisingly, her own edginess bled away. Seconds later, she fell asleep.

BROOKS WOKE to his arms full of warm female.

Mmm. Callie.

He pulled her closer, breathing in the skin at the back of her neck. God, he loved her scent. She smelled like coconuts and made him think of the beach. Then he heard the sound of a throat clearing and opened his eyes to see Blair.

She stood beside the bed, her arms crossed, looking down at them. Callie was still asleep.

“You’d better go,” Blair said. “Lachlan is coming to wake you guys. I’m not sure he’s ready to see this.”

Reluctantly, Brooks slid out of the bed. Callie shifted to steal his pillow, her black hair spread out everywhere. She looked so peaceful.

He snatched up his glasses, and Blair gave him a nod and he left the room. He rubbed his eyes before slipping his glasses on. His entire body still felt tired and sore.

“You tread carefully.”

He turned back to look at Blair as she closed Callie’s door behind her. “I know Callie wouldn’t really be interested in me. We’ve just been through a tough time together—”

Blair thumped her fist against his forehead.

“Ow,” he complained.

“For a smart guy, you can be dense, Brooks. Why wouldn’t she be interested? You’re a hunky, sexy catch.”

Heat filled his cheeks. “Ah—”

“Careful with her, that’s all I’m saying. Callie has scars that she keeps well hidden.”

Blair swiveled and headed down the hallway. Brooks blinked. Callie was one of the most together people he knew. Still, he remembered her telling him about her dad and sister, and his gut tightened.

None of this mattered anyway. Slowly, Brooks made his way to the main room and headed straight for the coffee pot. He leaned against the counter and drank one mug, then refilled it. Brooks had fallen for a cheerleader in high school. She’d been a year older than him, popular, pretty, and had shocked the hell out of him when she’d agreed to a date. He sipped the coffee again. He’d been pretty dedicated to learning what girls liked when they let him touch them, and she’d been more than happy to meet up with him where no one would see them.

The coffee turned sour in his gut. Yeah, he’d been her dirty, geeky secret. Alone, she’d been all flushed cheeks and husky cries. When other people were around, she’d ignored him. When they’d almost gotten caught making out by some footballers, she’d dumped him and crushed his heart. There’d been a girl at college too. A gorgeous law student who’d been way out of his league. She’d been happy to sleep with the sexy geek for a few months, until she’d lost interest and moved on to a popular, fellow law student.

That had been a long time ago and Callie was nothing like those long-ago girls. But he’d learned the lesson—while women were happy to take a side-trip with a guy who liked computers more than people, they didn’t stick around for the entire journey.

He heard the others in the conference room and headed in. Everyone was there, including Callie. He tried not to stare at her.

Lachlan swiveled. “Brooks, we need to find this wind jewel.”

Brooks nodded. “I’ll get some searches running, but I can share some bits with you already.”

As soon as he sat in front of the computer, he felt something inside him settle. It felt so good to have a keyboard under his fingers again.

He quickly typed in some commands. “These are the things we learned while we were being held hostage.”

“Let’s hear it,” Lachlan said.

“The wind jewel is associated with the Aztec god, Quetzalcoatl.”

“The feathered serpent,” Seth murmured.

“Right. He was the Aztec god of wind, air, and wisdom. He’s usually depicted wearing a ‘wind breastplate’ around his neck. It had the wind jewel, also called ehecailacocozcatl—” Brooks stumbled a bit on the pronunciation. “We’ll have to get Nat to pronounce that properly.” The team’s archeologist, Dr. Natalie Blackwell, knew everything there was to know about anything old and historical. “The wind jewel is described as a spiral, and made of the cross-section of a conch shell.” The image appeared on the screen.

“It looks like the spiral of a hurricane,” Callie noted. “Or a tornado.”

“Exactly,” Brooks said. “Representing the wind and storms.” He scanned the data. “Priests and kings wore the conch shell around their necks, and loads have been found in burials all through Mesoamerica. It appears that the jewel gave the god the power to command the wind and storms.”

“So,” Blair said, “we’re thinking this jewel is something similar to the vajra.”

Brooks’ gut churned. The vajra was seriously bad, and safely locked away in Area 52’s storage facility. The guys from Treasure Hunter Security in Denver had run across it on an expedition. Vajra was Sanskrit meaning both thunderbolt and diamond. The legends said the weapon had belonged to Indra, the god of rain and thunder. Really, it was a powerful, portable, reusable nuclear weapon capable of a lot of destruction.

If the wind jewel was capable of similar things…

“Sounds similar,” Lachlan said. “Seth, you think January might have more info?”

Seth nodded. “No doubt. My wife believes she knows everything.” There was exasperation and affection in his voice. “I’ll ask her.”

The archeologist was pregnant, but still working.

Brooks cleared his throat. “When I hacked the Smithsonian data for Mr. Ordinary, I also copied a second version of it up to our cloud storage.”

The team all looked at him and blinked.

“Really?” Callie said.

He nodded.

“Genius,” she said.

He smiled. “I’ve set a program trawling through the data right now. There’s a lot of information.”

Lachlan crossed his arms over his chest. “And you should be able to find info on the wind jewel faster than they can.”

Brooks sniffed. “Of course.”

“We should call Treasure Hunter Security as well,” Lachlan said. “Dec and his guys might have heard of the jewel before.”

The security firm out of Denver was made up mostly of former Navy SEALs, who specialized in security for digs and expeditions. It occasionally brought them in contact with dangerous artifacts, and they’d brushed up against Team 52 a time or two. After a shaky start, the teams were actually quite friendly now.

“I’ll contact Darcy,” Blair said.

Everyone dispersed, and Brooks checked his searches. He grabbed his coffee mug and saw it was empty. He rose, but instead of refilling his mug, grabbed an energy drink from the fridge. He had a weakness for the damn things, but they helped fuel him when he had butt-loads of work to do.

He shifted his tablet and saw the sketch of Mr. Ordinary he’d done. It was half decent, even if he did say so himself. He’d already scanned and uploaded it. He was trying a new program that searched social media and online news outlets for a facial match.

“Who are you, dickhead?” he murmured.

Tiredness hit Brooks, and he barely noticed when the screen blurred and his eyes closed.

The nightmare hit like flashes of light. It was like being in the haunted house that his brothers had dragged him to when they were kids. With each flash of light came another horrible memory.

Being beaten by the goons. Callie strung up being tortured. Choking the guard in the cell. Blood smeared on Callie’s skin. Shooting the drug runner.

Fingers stroked his cheek and Brooks jerked awake.

Callie was kneeling beside his chair. “Hey, you were having a nightmare.”

He pushed his glasses up his nose. “Shit.” Shit. He grabbed his drink can and took a sip. It was warm, and he grimaced. The edginess wouldn’t let him sit still and he stood.

She watched him carefully. “If you need to talk to someone—”

“I just need some time, Cal. I…I know killing the guy was the only choice. I’d do it again.”

She stepped closer and pushed him back into the chair. Then she wrapped her arms around him. He found his head pressed to her soft breasts.

Her heartbeat thudded in his ear, and he knew he wouldn’t be hearing that sound if he hadn’t protected her.

He slid an arm around her and held on tight.

It felt good. Too good. Don’t get used to this, Jameson.

When he pulled back, he saw she was staring at his glasses. “What?”

She cleared her throat. “Nothing.”

Then there was a ping from his computer.

Reluctantly, he pulled away and glanced at the screen. His eyebrows shot up.

“What is it?” she asked.

“Information on the wind jewel. Call the others.”

CHAPTER EIGHT

Everyone crowded into the room, and Callie saw that Brooks was in his element.

He’d clearly shaken off the bad dream, and now his long, sexy fingers were flying over the keyboard.

Callie watched him and wondered how those fingers would feel on her skin. Desire swamped her.

She blew out a breath. It was official. She was lusting after her friend.

Brooks swiveled in his chair. “This is from the data in the Smithsonian files.” A picture flashed up on the screen.

Lachlan crossed his arms. “The conch shell representing the wind jewel.”

Brooks nodded. “Most people know that Quetzalcoatl was also linked to the Mayan god, Kukulkan. He was another feathered serpent. They also had an Incan equivalent.” Another image appeared, a stylized image of a god. “This is Viracocha.”

“What’s in his hands?” Callie asked.

“Thunderbolts. He could control lightning and storms.”

“Again, like the vajra,” Seth noted.

“There’s more.” Brooks tapped his tablet. “The Smithsonian’s data mentions a dig in Mexico in the late 1930s, at an Aztec site.”

“And?” Lachlan prompted.

“It was rumored that they found a piece of a sacred jewel. Unfortunately, a terrible, freak storm came out of nowhere and hit the dig. Several people were killed.”

“The wind jewel,” Lachlan muttered. “Hell.”

“Or part of it. The notes make it clear that it wasn’t complete.”

“What happened to the shard of the jewel?” Callie asked.

“No one knows. The dig was closed down, and the piece of the jewel disappeared.”

“Main players on the dig?” Lachlan asked.

An old picture of several men in suits, knee-high boots, and dapper hats appeared.

“I’ve got the names of the men who funded the dig and their archeologists. I’ve started running them and we’ll see if anything pops.”

There was a commotion outside the room and a woman’s voice echoed through the Bunker.

“Where is he? I want to see that he’s okay with my own two eyes.”

Brooks stood. “Damn.” He tapped the keyboard and the screen went blank.

A woman shouldered through the door. She was tall, with broad shoulders, an Amazonian body, and her greying hair was pulled back in a tight braid. Her eyes zeroed in on Brooks.

Then she powered across the room and threw her arms around him.

“I’m all right, Mom.”

Callie watched him hug his mom. A man appeared in the doorway. He was a few inches shorter than his wife, but also fit, with a ball cap on his head. He had the same deep-brown eyes as his son.

“Someone snatched my boy.” Patricia Jameson patted Brooks cheeks.

“I’m fine,” he said again.

Patricia swiveled and her gaze lasered in on Lachlan. “You find who took him yet?”

“Not yet, Mrs. Jameson. But we will.”

“Make them very, very sorry,” she said darkly.

“Mom, it’s under control.” When Brooks’ dad drew close, Brooks shared a quick side hug with the man.

“Your brothers wanted to come and see you,” Tom Jameson said. “I told them you’d call them.”

“Thanks, Dad.”

Brooks had a great family. Callie felt a pang of bittersweet envy.

His mom pulled him in for another bone-cracking hug.

“I’m fine, Mom.” He patted her back. “Callie got me out.”

Patricia’s gaze swung to Callie. “Thank you.”

Callie nodded. “Actually, Brooks did a lot of the work. He did great out there.”

“Of course, he did. He’s smart.” Patricia looked at her son. “When are you going to find a sweet, smart little thing to settle down with?”

Brooks cleared his throat. “Maybe we could talk about this when I’m not at work.”

Patricia made a sound. “If you visited your family more, I could grill you then. You aren’t going to find a nice girl working all the time.”

Callie saw all the team grinning. She hoped when Patricia looked at her, the fact that Callie had shared a fantastic kiss with her son wasn’t tattooed on her face.

“Pat, we’ve seen our boy, we should leave him to his work,” Tom said.

Brooks’ mom sniffed and pointed at her son. “Dinner. Soon. Bring a girl.”

Brooks rolled his eyes. “Go. Love you.”

Patricia’s face softened. “Love you too, baby.” With a wave to the room, she and Tom left.

“So, Brooks,” Axel drawled. “You going to find yourself a sweet little geek with librarian glasses who likes computers more than you do?”

Color hit Brooks’ cheeks. “Not my priority right now.” His gaze flicked to Callie then away.

Callie felt a hit of mixed emotions. She could totally see Brooks with an intense, geek girl, talking tech, and salivating over computer parts. Callie hated the woman already.

Brooks had already dropped back into his chair, tapping at the computer.

The team dispersed. Kinsey was making calls, Lachlan was reporting in to the head of Area 52, Director Jonah Grayson, and the rest of them hit the small gym at the Bunker. Thankfully, the treatment the night before meant Callie’s battered body was feeling much better.

After a quick shower, Callie was in the small kitchen, eating an apple while the others filtered in, grabbing snacks and drinks.

Suddenly, Kinsey rushed into the room, concern on her face.

Smith stood. “Kinsey?”

“It’s on the news,” the blonde said, her voice breathless. “Some sort of freak thunderstorm here in Las Vegas.”

They all looked out the window. There was nothing but blue sky.

“It’s weird,” Kinsey said. “The storm seems to be focused on one area. Above a church in west Vegas. The Windvale Church.”

“Shit,” Lachlan muttered.

Brooks strode in, tablet in hand. He swiped on his screen, pulling up weather maps. “Guys, this storm doesn’t look natural.”

Lachlan’s jaw tightened. “I think we might have found that piece of the wind jewel.”

“They’ve been evacuating the church,” Kinsey said, “but there are people still stuck inside.”

“Team 52, let’s go,” Lachlan ordered.

As the team rushed out of the room, Brooks grabbed Callie’s arm. “Be careful.”

She nodded. “Don’t worry, I always am.”

In the locker room, they all geared up, slipping on light body armor, and grabbing their CXM rifles. Callie slipped her high-tech earpiece in her ear.

They headed outside and loaded into the team’s two black SUVs. As soon as they peeled out of the airport, Brooks’ voice came from the dash.

“Okay, the Windvale Church is west of the city.” He rattled off directions.

Callie leaned back in her seat, a small smile on her lips. It was comforting to know that he was there, backing them up, as always.

As they approached the church’s location, she glanced up at the dark clouds hovering in the sky. Damn, it looked weird. Lightning struck the ground outside the church.

“If it’s the wind jewel, you need to disable it,” Brooks said. “Get it off whoever activated it.”

They screeched to a halt. They exited the vehicles, watching as people ran in fear down the street. Callie saw one man get struck by lightning. His body shuddered and dropped to the ground.

Oh, shit. Several people raced to help him.

The quickest way to help everyone was to get inside the church. Moving in formation, they jogged toward the structure.

“This is a church?” Axel said.

“It’s one of those mega churches,” Seth said.

The place was huge, the massive building more like a warehouse than a place of worship. When Callie thought of churches, she thought of Sunday mornings with her family in the intimate, cozy building near their home. Not this.

Smith busted in a side door, and they moved inside. A carpeted hall led them to a lobby. Several people were running for the front doors.

They followed Lachlan into the heart of the church.

“Fuck me,” Axel muttered.

The main auditorium looked like a sports stadium or concert arena. Several people were running in the aisles between the rows and rows of seating. Above, a hole had been torn in the roof.

Callie saw a single person standing on the large stage in the center. His body was lit up and glowing.

They whipped their weapons up and moved down one aisle. Suddenly, lightning struck through the hole in the roof.

Crack.

Callie dived to the floor. The air was charged with energy, her hair standing on end. Next to her, Lachlan came up on one knee. He fired several shots at the person on stage.

The man threw his arms out and more lightning rained down, hitting all around them. Screams filled the air.

Callie spotted a woman with two children, all three of them sobbing as the woman tried to get her kids out.

Crouching, Callie rushed over to them. “Come on.”

She grabbed the toddler and the woman held the hand of the older child. Together, they ran up the steps toward an exit.

“Go.” Callie shoved the toddler at the mother. “Get out.”

Lightning crackled along the roof. She watched it swirl, forming a huge blue-white ball of electricity.

Then it started striking.

She threw an arm up, wincing at the bright light. It hit chairs, the floor, the stage. Then the strikes started moving far too close to her team.

“Down!” Lachlan roared.

They all dove under chairs. Callie dropped to her belly, hearing a loud crack rattle the building. She lifted her head and peered between two chairs.

The man on stage threw his arms up in the air. More lightning crashed down. The young man had his jaw clenched, his eyes closed, and his skin glowed like he was lit by a neon light. The fingers of his right hand were clenched tight. He was holding something.

Callie frowned and touched her ear. “The guy on stage. There’s something clenched in his right hand.”

“Drop the weapon,” Blair yelled.

The man didn’t respond.

More lightning struck right in front of them. Chairs exploded, and a shard of metal hit Callie’s cheek.

“Screw this.” Axel jumped up and ran toward the stage. Lightning strikes hit all around him, but he pumped his arms, moving fast.

He was almost there.

Boom.

The strike hit right at Axel’s boots, tossing him into the air.

No. Callie’s heart stopped.

Fire broke out in one row of seats, flames licking along the chairs. But Callie’s focus was on Axel. He was hurt, and she had to get to him.

Smith rose and raised his CXM. Completely oblivious to the lightning tearing the place apart, the former SEAL aimed at the man on stage.

A single crack of a shot, and the man fell. Callie watched him drop to the stage.

The lightning stopped.

As Team 52 rushed forward, Callie sprinted to Axel. He was lying on his back, his body shuddering.

She dropped to her knees and checked his vitals. “His heart’s stopped.”

“Fuck,” Blair bit out.

Callie started compressions. “Come on, Axel.”

She fell into the familiar rhythm of CPR. Breathe, compressions. She sensed the team around her, felt their concern.

For a split second, she was back at that crash with Bec—helpless and afraid.

No. She gave her head a quick, sharp shake. She wasn’t helpless anymore.

“Come on, Axel. Breathe.”

Suddenly, his strong arms shifted, his hands moving up to grip her cheeks. He pulled her closer and his lips moved against hers.

Callie jerked her head up.

His eyes were closed, but his mouth was smiling. “Damn, chica, you have lovely lips.”

She was tempted to smack him, but she was too happy he was alive. Instead, she stroked his thick hair. “Luckily, I like you, or I’d have to hurt you.”

She looked up and saw Seth, Smith, and Lachlan shaking their heads. Blair just rolled her eyes.

“He’s fine,” Callie announced.

Seth snorted. “Quit lazing around, Diaz.”

CALLIE SAT BESIDE AXEL, monitoring him, while Lachlan and the others used fire extinguishers to put the blazes out.

“Lachlan.” Brooks’ voice sounded in their earpieces. “LVMPD incoming.”

“Thanks, Brooks,” Lachlan replied.

Brooks’ voice held an edge. For the first time, she thought about how hard it must be for him to sit in the computer room, listening to them in danger. It would drive her crazy.

A door slammed open, and a tall, long-legged man strode into the auditorium. He was followed by another man in a rumpled suit and several police officers.

The tall man reached them, surveying the chaos. He had a badge clipped to his belt. He shook his head. “I should have known.”

Blair grinned. “Hey, snookums.”

Detective Luke MacKade glared at the destruction, but then his gaze ran over Blair, checking that she was okay.

Love. It practically throbbed off them. Callie swallowed uneasily. She was thrilled that Blair was happy. And for the other guys who’d also paired up recently with women who’d captured their hearts—Lachlan, Seth, Smith, Ty.

But Callie knew love could be yanked away in an instant. It could leave you broken like her mom, and alter the course of your life forever. She wasn’t sure how her friends could live with the uncertainty of losing what they loved.

“We need to contain whatever he was holding.” Lachlan pointed to the body on stage. “Smith, get a containment box from the SUV.”

“On it.” The big man headed out.

The team and MacKade approached the stage.

“Brooks, you picking anything up?” Lachlan asked.

“Nothing.”

The deep, sexy tone shivered through Callie. Not now, hormones.

They reached the stage. Blair pulled out a high-tech camera, snapping pictures of the dead man. He was young—probably late twenties, clean-cut. His body was steaming.

“His name is Brandon Mayfield,” MacKade said. “He’s a minister at this church.”

“You mean cult.” Blair’s nose wrinkled.

MacKade shrugged. “I don’t have a problem with religion. To each their own. A lot of people get a sense of community from their churches.”

“I don’t need anyone to tell me how to live my life,” Blair said.

MacKade grabbed her ponytail and tugged it. “You’d punch them in the face if they did.” He glanced back at the others. “Windvale is big. They have churches all over the southern states. Their headquarters is in Arizona.”

Callie’s head jerked up, and she looked over to meet Lachlan’s gaze. Arizona.

Lachlan’s face was inscrutable. He crouched by the man and nudged his hand.

Mayfield’s fingers unfurled and a small item tumbled out onto the stage.

MacKade frowned. “That a piece of rock?”

Callie stared at the white item. “I think it’s a shard of shell.” It looked like a small, white curve.

Moments later, Smith was back, holding a small, black containment box.

Lachlan used his gloved, prosthetic hand to carefully pick up the piece of shell. He set it inside the box.

“Should I be worried?” MacKade asked. “Should I expect Las Vegas to burn to the ground, or rivers of blood to flow in the streets?”

Lachlan shrugged. “I don’t think so.” The Team 52 leader looked like he was fighting a smile. “But I don’t have enough intel yet to offer you any guarantees.”

MacKade sighed.

“Luke.” An older detective in a rumpled shirt and suit came toward them. He was herding a frightened, young woman with him. Her fine, blonde hair was askew and she was deathly pale.

The woman saw the body of Mayfield and she made a choked noise. Lachlan shifted to block her view and the blonde’s eyes filled with tears.

“Brandon’s dead?” she whispered.

“I’m sorry, he is,” MacKade responded. “You work here?”

The woman nodded. “I’m Cindi. I work in the office.” She pulled in a shuddering breath. “Oh, my God, Brandon.” The tears spilled over.

Clearly, Cindi had been harboring a little crush.

“Can you tell us what happened, Cindi?” MacKade asked in a quiet voice.

“There was a package on his desk today. A small box.” She swiped at her tears. “He seemed excited about it.”

“He knew what it was?”

She nodded. “I think so.”

“It arrived in the mail?”

“No. I didn’t see any stamps or post marks on it. He was being secretive about it and I went to finish some filing I was working on. The next thing I knew, lighting was hitting the church. I raced in and saw Brandon on the stage.” She bit her lip and fought back a sob. “He was scared, told me to run because it was out of control.”

“Did he say what ‘it’ was?” MacKade pushed.

Cindi shook her head. “No. But he was glowing. I ran.”

MacKade touched the young woman’s shoulder. “It’s going to be okay. Thanks for your help.” As the older detective led Cindi over to a chair, MacKade’s gaze flicked up to Lachlan. “You’ll keep me posted?”

Lachlan nodded.

“See you at home.” Blair kissed the detective. “Bye, Baxter.”

“Later, Blair,” the older detective called out.

“Stay out of trouble,” MacKade growled.

Blair smiled. “Never.”

That got another sigh. “Don’t kill anyone.”

Now Blair winked. “No promises.”

Team 52 moved back to the SUVs. Callie stayed beside Axel. He was still pale, and moving slowly.

“I need to give you a full check back at the Bunker,” she told him.

He flashed her a smile, but it wasn’t up to its usual wattage. “Yes, doctor.”

“Behave, or no lollipops for you.”

“I’ll be on my best behavior.” He dragged a finger over his chest in the shape of an X.

Seth snorted. “You wouldn’t know good behavior if it threw itself at your feet.”

“I’m a good boy,” Axel protested. “Just ask my mama.”

Once they were back in the SUVs, they headed for the Bunker.

“So, do we have the wind jewel?” Callie asked.

“I think we have a shard of it,” Lachlan said from the front seat. “Let’s wait until we can take a closer look at it.”

“How the hell did it end up here?” Callie said.

“A very good question and one we need to find the answer to.”

It didn’t take long for them to get back to the Bunker. Callie helped Axel out of the vehicle.

Brooks met them at the door, concern on his face. “You all right, Axel?”

“I’m good, mi hermano.”

Then Brooks met Callie’s gaze and she nodded.

She wanted to touch him, wipe some of that worry off his handsome face.

CHAPTER NINE

Brooks released a long breath. The team was back safely. Callie was safe, and Axel would be okay.

He watched Callie help Axel, an arm around his lean waist. The man looked disheveled and pale, despite his assurances that he was okay.

“Into the med room, Diaz,” Callie ordered. “I want that shirt off.”

“You want me naked, chiquita, you just have to ask.”

Brooks gritted his teeth.

Callie rolled her eyes. “What I want is to do an ECG so I can check on your heart.”

As the door closed behind them, Brooks just stared at it. Axel had kissed her. He’d heard that over the comm line. His fingers curled into his palm.

Jeez, the guy—your friend—just got fried by lightning, Jameson.

Brooks forced himself to take a breath, but he couldn’t stop the prickly feeling on the back of his neck. Axel was exactly the kind of guy he could picture with Callie—handsome, confident, badass.

The others came through the door, pulling off their armor and weapons.

They were safe, and they’d recovered the dangerous artifact. That’s what he needed to focus on.

It was damn hard to listen to the team under fire. They were all trained and deadly, but it still wasn’t easy worrying about them.

And when Callie had been running through the lightning…

Brooks gripped the edge of the desk. He had to remind himself that she could look after herself.

“We have the artifact in a containment box.” Lachlan nodded his head at the box resting on the table. “It looks like a small piece of shell.”

“My guess is that it’s just part of the wind jewel,” Brooks said. “Ties in with the Smithsonian data. About the shard that was discovered in Mexico.”

“If a tiny bit of it can do this much damage…” Lachlan trailed off.

Yeah, then the full thing was a hell of a weapon.

“We’ll keep this locked up in the safe until we can transport it out to base tomorrow,” Lachlan added. “Then Ty can do his thing.”

Brooks nodded. Ty would run every test he could, and hopefully figure out how the ancient technology worked and if it could be stopped.

“So how the hell did the shard end up here in Las Vegas?” Seth mused.

“And why the Windvale Church?” Blair added.

They needed answers. When Brooks’ tablet pinged with an urgent call from their base at Area 52, he dropped into the desk chair, and lifted the device.

Dr. Natalie Blackwell’s beautiful face flashed up on the screen. Team 52’s resident archeologist’s long, black hair wasn’t in one of its usual neat, stylish styles. Her face looked pale.

“I just heard. Axel?”

“He’s fine,” Brooks assured her. “Callie’s checking him over.”

Nat released a long breath. “Okay. Okay. And they got the artifact?”

“Yeah, they’ll bring it to base tomorrow. Looks like it’s a shard of the wind jewel.”

“Right. I’ve been scouring our records for any other information on the wind jewel. I don’t have anything new yet.” Nat shoved her thick hair back. “You’re sure he’s okay?”

“Walked in here on his own. Axel isn’t going to let getting hit by lightning slow him down.”

Nat managed a smile. “Thanks, Brooks.”

“You want to talk to him—?”

“No.” She cleared her throat. “No. See you tomorrow.”

Soon, Smith and Kinsey headed off to their cabin just outside Vegas. Blair and Seth left next, both of them eager to get back to their other halves.

The med room door opened. Axel sauntered out, buttoning up a fresh shirt. “Well, mis amigos, you’ll be happy to know my ticker is just fine.”

Callie followed behind him.

“I’ll drop you home, Lightning Man,” Lachlan said.

Axel grinned. “If you’re gonna call me that, then I need a superhero suit.”

“Superheroes wear their underpants on the outside of their pants,” Brooks noted.

Axel snorted. “Not me.”

“Brooks, do you need a ride home?” Callie asked casually.

His chest tightened. “Sure.”

“Brooks, you get any updates on how the hell this shard got to Vegas, you call me,” Lachlan ordered. “I don’t care what time it is.”

Brooks tossed the man a small salute. “You got it.”

Once they’d locked up the Bunker and set the alarm system, Brooks found himself in the passenger seat of Callie’s sweet little Nissan. The faint scent of coconuts filled the car. Damn, he loved her scent.

He shifted in his seat, his cock lengthening. The damn thing wouldn’t go down. It was turning into a problem any time Callie was around.

Before he knew it, she pulled up in front of his condo building. “I’ll walk you up.”

He nodded. “Sure.”

They walked up to his front door and the silence felt awkward. Think of something to say. He tried, but nothing brilliant popped into his head. He let them into the building.

“I’m curious to see what this artifact is.” God. He mentally slapped himself. He didn’t want to talk about work.

“Me too. We need to stop whoever wants the wind jewel. If one tiny piece can cause so much destruction…”

“Yeah.”

They headed down the hall towards his place. He pulled out his keys and opened the door. “Well—”

Callie surprised him by throwing her arms around him in a tight hug. “I’m just happy we’re all okay.”

“Me too.” He hugged her back, his nerves jingling. The scent of her hit him even harder, and the feel of her lean curves pressed against him made his pulse race. “Callie.”

She lifted her face to his.

He wanted to kiss her. He tried to talk himself out of it, but he lowered his mouth to hers. There was so much need thundering through him.

Then she moaned and her hand slid into his hair. “These glasses. So sexy.”

Brooks’ brain short-circuited. He deepened the kiss and then they stumbled into his condo. He cupped her ass, lifting her off her feet and set her down on his hall table. He heard something crash to the floor along with his keys, but he ignored it and kept kissing her. He couldn’t stop.

Now her hands were on his ass, digging in. Her moan vibrated down his throat.

God. God. He ran his hands over her body. He loved her body—strong, feminine, sexy. He cupped one small breast, flicking his fingers over her nipple. She bit his lip.

Then his hands went down. He ran his fingers along the waistband of her leggings, finding sleek, warm skin.

With a moan, she pushed against his hands, her own sliding up under his T-shirt to stroke his back.

Brooks ran his lips down her jaw, along her neck. Then his fingers dipped beneath her waistband, just an inch.

“Is this okay?” he asked.

“Oh, yes,” she breathed.

He slid his hands inside her leggings and straight inside her panties. Satin brushed against his skin. Callie canted her hips forward and bit his lip again. The sting felt so good.

Brooks growled, feeling completely out of control. Like a conqueror back from marauding, and she was his prize.

He moved his hand lower and his fingers slid through her slick folds. Shit. God. She was so soft and warm.

She bucked against him.

He hesitated. “Should I stop?”

“Absolutely not.”

He stroked her and she moaned. He gripped one of her legs and pushed it up, giving him better access.

“You feel so good, Callie.”

Her mouth was on his.

He circled a finger at her entrance. “Can I—?”

“Yes. Yes.” Her voice was low and husky.

He pushed his finger inside her. Callie made a desperate, hungry sound. Desire flared like a blowtorch.

“Such a pretty, tight pussy, Callie.”

She moaned, her eyes going wide.

Dirty talk spilled out of him, fueled by the intense desire roaring in him. “You’re dripping for me.”

“Brooks,” she breathed.

“You want more? You want my fingers plunging inside you, stretching you?”

She licked her lips. “Yes.”

He slid another finger inside her, doing as he’d promised. He cursed that her leggings hampered his moves, but he did what he could, thrusting his fingers inside her.

“Please,” she moaned, rubbing against him.

“Jesus, you’re so—” He wanted to worship her—her sleek body, her perfect breasts, sweet, wet pussy. “Gorgeous.”

He moved his thumb to her clit.

“God, Brooks! I’m going to—”

She came, hard. Her moans and cries echoed off the walls. Brooks kept his gaze on her face, memorizing every nuance of it.

Then he saw reality slowly drain the pleasure from her eyes. She blinked, her cheeks flushing.

“Um.” She dropped her legs from around him and he pulled his hand out of her pants.

She tucked her head and looked uncomfortable.

God, was she regretting what they’d just done? He couldn’t quite read her and his throbbing cock made it really hard to concentrate.

“I should—” Callie stood and her gaze dropped to his straining fly. She looked away quickly.

This wasn’t how he’d imagined this going at all. “Callie—”

“You need to rest,” she said. “We need to get back to base tomorrow. Can’t be tired.”

“Right.” Once again, he couldn’t find any words. He wanted to touch her, but wasn’t sure he should.

She’d come, she’d liked what they’d just done. He hadn’t hurt her, had he?

She edged toward the door, which was still ajar.

“Callie—”

“I…have to go.” She opened the door, slipped out, and closed it behind her.

Like that, she was gone.

Brooks thumped his head back against the wall.

Dumbass.

CRAPOLA, Callie.

Callie drove back to her townhouse, her mind whirling while her body felt oh-so-happy. Her hands flexed on the steering wheel.

She’d just completely freaked out on Brooks. Sexy Brooks with the magic fingers.

Her belly tightened. She could still feel his touch, still feel how wet she was between her legs. Her panties were saturated.

She groaned. What had she done? She didn’t have time for men or dating. She’d usually see a guy for a few months, sporadically, due to her work. Mostly, she just had sex and the occasional dinner. She didn’t want attachments, so that suited her just fine.

She never, ever had frantic make-out sessions on hall tables. With a friend and work colleague, no less.

Turning onto her street, she pulled into the driveway of her neat townhouse and pulled into the garage. It wasn’t huge, but she liked it. She turned off the headlights and then let her head drop against the wheel.

Sex was usually light, fun, and a few orgasms.

But with Brooks… She had no idea what to do with this need, this intensity. This was way beyond fun and easy. And now the sexy, tattooed geek was under her skin.

Her phone pinged and she pulled it out. There was a text from Brooks.

Brooks: Cal, I’m sorry. I never meant to hurt you.

Dammit. She banged her head against the wheel. He was such a nice guy. She thumbed the screen.

Callie: You didn’t.

Brooks: So why did you rush out?

She nibbled her lip.

Callie: Just… It was intense. I never expected you to be so good with your fingers.

There. Fun, sexy. Lightening the mood was just what they needed.

Brooks: You’ve seen me with the keyboard. My fingers are very limber.

Callie laughed. Only Brooks could make her laugh when she felt like she was flying apart.

Brooks: I’m good with other things too.

A shiver ran through her. Say goodnight and leave it at that. But her stupid fingers didn’t obey.

Callie: Oh?

Brooks: Oh, God. I didn’t mean… I meant with my brain. I’m shutting up now.

She’d bet he was blushing. In the heat of the moment, he’d been all dirty talk, murmuring naughty things in her ear that shot her desire through the roof. But one suggestive text had him stumbling.

Callie: I know.

She added a smiley emoji.

Callie: See you tomorrow, Brooks.

Brooks: Sweet dreams, Cal.

Callie let herself inside her house. She flicked on the lights, dumped her keys on the kitchen counter, then watered her lone plant.

Then she stripped off her clothes, showered, and fell face first on her bed. A good night’s sleep would make everything seem better.

But her dreams starred one tattooed tech geek, and they were anything but sweet. Instead, she dreamed of tearing his clothes off, his mouth and hands on her body as he whispered dirty things in her ear.

The next morning, she was bleary-eyed when she arrived at the Bunker. The X8 jet-copter was already prepped for takeoff, so she hurried over.

She waved at Kinsey and Smith, who were saying goodbye to each other. In the cockpit, Seth and Blair were doing pre-flight checks of the X8. Callie leaped through the side door.

Brooks was already aboard. He smiled his sexy, lopsided smile and waved.

She sucked in a breath and forced a friendly smile on her face.

He was wearing another of his humorous Star Wars shirts. He seemed to have an endless collection, and she’d even bought him one or two at Christmastime. This one said, “Trust me, I’m a Jedi.”

“Sleep well?” he asked.

“Sure did.” I’m also a giant liar.

“I have something for you,” he said. “A thank you for everything you did for me in Arizona.”

“Brooks—”

He took her hand and pressed something to her palm.

When she opened her fingers, a small, silver charm in the shape of a tiny, female angel lay in the center of her palm. The angel’s wings were outstretched.

“You were my guardian angel. And I know this is part of the pararescue logo.”

She nodded. “That others may live.” She murmured the motto of her old job. She’d loved being a combat medic, but when her Pave Hawk helicopter had been shot down on her final mission, and she’d lost both her fellow pararescuemen and the soldiers they’d risked their lives to rescue… She swallowed. She hadn’t been able to face going back. Thankfully, Director Jonah Grayson had called and offered her a lifeline.

“It’s to go on your chain,” Brooks added. “With Bec’s charms.”

Callie reached up and grabbed her necklace. She stared at Brooks, so touched.

“Thank you.” She took off the necklace and slipped the tiny, new charm on.

Brooks got her. He understood her need to help others.

“Okay, buckle up, people,” Seth called from the cockpit. “We’re ready for takeoff.”

Smith and Axel settled in their seats, while Lachlan closed the side door.

Brooks got busy tapping on his tablet, and Callie watched him from under her lashes. Soon, they were soaring across the desert, and she was pretty sure he hadn’t even noticed they were airborne.

Then he stiffened like he’d been hit by electricity.

“Brooks? What is it?” she asked.

“Nat sent some info.” His face turned serious.

The others leaned forward.

“Tell us,” Lachlan said.

“The Inca legends about Viracocha. They said the god left the Inca and went out across the Pacific Ocean.”

Callie gripped the back of the chair, leaning closer. “Taking the wind jewel with him?”

Brooks nodded.

Lachlan tapped a finger on the seat in front of him. “The Pacific Ocean doesn’t really narrow things down much.” But he nodded at Brooks. “Still, it’s a start.”

“Yeah. I can narrow down searches for any gods matching Viracocha’s description in the Pacific.”

If anyone could find a tiny jewel lost in the Pacific, it was Brooks.

CHAPTER TEN

Brooks leaned back in his computer room chair. He loved his space at the Area 52 base. The top-secret base was located beneath the Tonopah Test Range, right beside Area 51. It worked out nicely since no one paid too much attention to Area 52.

His computer room was filled with top-of-the-line computers, screens, and a few gadgets he’d put together himself. Best of the best.

He’d spent the last few hours since they’d arrived, running several searches. They needed to find these assholes.

At the same time, as he sat there chewing on the end of his Han Solo pen, his thoughts turned to Callie.

What if he’d ruined their friendship forever?

She’d seemed okay today, and she’d liked the charm. He set his tablet down, and instantly, he was deluged by memories of having her sweet body pressed against his, her cries echoing in his ears as she came riding his hand.

Shit. Now, his cock was as hard as steel.

He blew out a breath. But if she just wanted to be friends…

Dammit. He wanted more.

“Brooks? Brooks?”

Blair’s voice finally penetrated. He looked up at the woman and blinked. “Sorry?”

“I’ve been calling your name for a full minute.”

Blair was decked out in black cargo pants, with a tight tank top on. Her blonde hair was in a tight ponytail.

“Sorry,” he said. “I’m a bit distracted… I mean, busy.”

“Liar. I can tell when a guy is thinking about sex.”

Brooks felt heat in his cheeks, and rubbed the back of his neck. “Um…”

Blair shook her head. “Spill it.”

“Well…”

“Brooks, don’t make me get rough with you.”

“Callie and I…”

Blair raised a brow and motioned with her hand. “Go on.”

“She ran out on me mid—” Shit, he wasn’t sure how much he should share.

Blair sighed and sat down beside him. “Is being with her just some fun for you?”

“What? No. It’s Callie. She’s gorgeous, smart, good at her job, sexy. She’s everything.”

A huge smile crossed Blair’s face. “You’ve got it bad, my friend.”

He blew out a breath. “She’s everything, but I’m not some gun-toting, eats-nails-for-breakfast guy. There’s no way she’d stick around—”

“Stop.” Blair scowled at him. “Quit putting yourself down. Callie likes a lot more than muscles, Brooks. Besides, you have those too.”

He looked down. “I—”

“I think you’re letting old demons get into your head.”

Dammit, was he doing that? “Maybe.”

Blair tapped her nails on the counter. “Look, stop thinking about who you should be with and who you think Callie should be with. Just feel.”

“Well, I have no problem with that.”

Blair tilted her head. “But be warned, Callie seems like she has it all together, but her demons run deep.”

“Because of her sister and dad.”

Blair’s eyebrows rose. “She told you?”

He nodded.

“Well.” Blair looked contemplative for a moment, then a smile crossed her face. “You be patient with her. Don’t let her back off.”

Brooks ran his hand through his hair. He wasn’t exactly sure how to go about that.

“She likes you, Brooks. I’ve never seen her so worked up over a guy.”

“And that’s good?”

Blair patted his cheek. “Very good. Just be you.”

Well, he couldn’t be anyone else, could he?

After Blair left, he checked the searches and tweaked some parameters. Some partial results had come through, and he scanned them.

His gaze caught on something and he paused.

Shit. He jogged out of the computer room. When he pushed open the door to Ty’s lab, the man growled loudly.

“Out.”

Brooks stared at Ty, who was wearing goggles over his eyes, leaning over where he had the shard resting on a stand. God, Ty was extra moody with River gone.

“Any luck with that?” Brooks asked.

“No.”

Hmm, that explained the really bad mood.

“Nothing?”

Ty growled again. “It manipulates energy and heats up the air. That contributes to storm clouds forming. That’s all I’ve got so far.”

“Where is everyone?” Brooks asked.

“They hit the gym after training. My guess is they’re in the rec room. Now get out.”

Brooks backed out and headed for the rec room. As he entered the well-lit space designed for the team to relax and take their meals in, he saw them all drinking and grabbing some snacks. His gaze went straight to Callie’s bare midriff. She was wearing a fitted sports bra and leggings.

His cock twitched. Damn. He managed to drag his eyes off her skin. “I found something.”

Lachlan lifted his chin.

“Come to the computer room.”

Soon, the team was all packed into the computer room. Brooks touched his tablet and his sketch of Mr. Ordinary appeared on the screen.

“Hey, it’s King of the Goons,” Callie said. “That’s a great picture. Did you do it?”

Brooks nodded. “I scanned it and ran it through some cross-referenced searches. After I plugged in all the search terms—”

“Brooks,” Lachlan said.

“Right.” The guys never wanted to hear the tech details. “I found this.” A newspaper article appeared on the screen.

The image showed a group of people at some sort of event. Mr. Ordinary stood with several others, wearing a suit and smiling widely.

The group was in front of a large building.

Lachlan frowned. “Howard Manning.”

Brooks nodded. “He’s a minister at the Windvale Church headquarters in Phoenix, Arizona.”

“A minister,” Callie muttered. “Whatever happened to love thy neighbor, and do unto others?”

“Hang on?” Lachlan said. “Windvale. The same church that was attacked here in Vegas?”

“Ding-ding,” Brooks said.

“This Manning is after the wind jewel?” Seth said.

“He did mention someone else,” Brooks said. “A woman with a vision. I got the impression he was just a flunky.”

“Anything else?” Lachlan asked.

“That’s it for now. I’ll start ripping Manning and Windvale apart.”

“Why would they attack their own church here in Las Vegas?” Callie asked.

“No idea,” Brooks said. “Maybe they had the shard and it got out of control?”

Seth frowned. “Or they wanted to test it.”

“And warn us off at the same time.” Lachlan thumped his fist against Brooks’ shoulder. “Good job. Dig up everything you can.”

“I need a shower,” Axel called out.

“Me too,” Blair added.

The team filed out, and Brooks hunched over his keyboard, tapping. He input a bunch more searches on Howard Manning and Windvale.

“Going to run you down, asshole,” he muttered.

“Hi.”

Brooks jolted, and spotted Callie leaning against the wall. She’d showered and changed, so he guessed he’d lost at least a few minutes while he worked.

“Hi.” He took off his glasses and polished them on the edge of his shirt. “What time is it?”

“Late.”

Ah, so he’d been working for a lot longer than a few minutes. He often lost himself like this when he was working.

He shoved his glasses back on and saw Callie looking at them again. Damn, she really liked his glasses.

“Everyone hit their bunks?” he asked.

She nodded.

“I was just running a few more searches.”

She tilted her head. “I wanted to check that we were okay?”

Brooks leaned back and nodded.

“We’re friends,” she said. “And your friendship is important to me.” She moved closer, and he got hit with the scent of coconuts. “I don’t want to jeopardize that.”

Brooks froze. She was giving him the “let’s just be friends” spiel. Still, as he looked at her, he was gratified to see her swallowing hard. She didn’t look quite as blasé about this as she was making out.

Blair’s words echoed in his head. Don’t let her back off. “That’s what you really want?”

Callie tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “Yes.”

“You’re sure?” He rose. They were so close, their bodies brushed.

He heard her draw a breath, and he took one of her wrists. He slid his fingers over the delicate bones. She sucked in a deeper breath, and he felt her pulse thundering under her skin.

That’s all it took—and the darn scent of coconuts—for all the blood in his body to go south. His cock pushed hard against his jeans. It seemed to stay that way around her all the time.

“Your nipples are hard,” he murmured.

She blew out a breath. “Brooks.”

He stroked her wrist. So delicate, but so strong. “Your pulse is racing.”

She just stared at him, emotion churning in her gray eyes.

He saw the desire and it set flame to his own. He couldn’t seem to tamp it down. Slowly, he lowered his head and kissed her.

OH, God, the man was a good kisser.

Helpless, Callie kissed him back—hungry and desperate.

He slid an arm around her and lifted her up onto the counter. He shoved his notepad and tablet aside. Then he nabbed the tablet with one hand and touched the screen.

“Doors locked,” a computer voice intoned.

Callie lifted her head. “Your computer sounds like the one off of Star Trek.”

“Yep.”

She smiled and cupped his face. Dammit, she couldn’t say no to him, to this. She couldn’t seem to stay away.

She was so screwed.

He kissed her again, his hands roaming over her. Before she knew it, he was tugging her pants off.

Callie was panting, need twisted in her belly. Brooks’ sexy hands stroked up her thighs.

“I love your body.” His voice was deep and husky.

“Brooks.” She heard the need vibrating in her voice.

He toyed with the edge of her panties, fingers dipping under the lace. When she didn’t protest, he pulled them slowly down her legs.

His gaze stayed on her belly and she felt seduced. She licked her lips. He made a hungry sound that speared through her.

Then he was pushing her thighs apart, and his fingers were sliding through her folds. She made a small cry, her hips tilting up. He kept stroking.

“So damn pretty,” he murmured. Then he knelt in front of her.

She gasped. “What are—?”

“I’m not just good with my fingers, Callie.”

He pressed his mouth to her.

Oh. God. Her spine stiffened. She clamped her hands in his hair. Her husky cries echoed in the room.

He lifted a hand and touched the tablet again, even as his tongue kept licking at her. A screen on the wall flashed on, and she turned her head.

Callie jolted. It was her on the screen. Them.

It showed her half naked, face flushed, with Brook’s dark head between her thighs. They looked…so wanton. So sexy.

“Tell me—” she tried to get her words together “—tell me that you’re not recording.”

He lifted his head, his lips glistening with her juices. “No! I’d never risk you like that. It’s a direct feed to that screen. All recordings are off.” He turned his head and nipped her inner thigh.

She moaned again.

“You like seeing me eat you, Callie?”

“Yes.” A thousand yeses. She nudged his head, directing him back to work.

With a growl, his tongue plunged into her. He worked her ruthlessly, until she couldn’t sit still. She felt her climax building, building.

Then he sucked her clit and she broke.

Sensation hit her like a tidal wave. She shuddered and her legs clamped on his head. “Brooks!”

His strong hands held her as her body shook. When she slumped against the counter, she felt dazed. Her legs felt loose, her body relaxed.

Brooks rose.

And all Callie could see was the hard bulge in his jeans. A very nice-sized bulge. She licked her lips and looked up. Her belly clenched. His face was a mask of intense need.

“Do you have a condom?” she asked.

His eyes flashed and he shook his head.

“I’ll have to get creative, then.” She straightened and reached down. She opened his jeans and delved a hand inside his boxers.

He muttered a curse.

Oh, boy. Brooks had been blessed in more ways than one. She freed his generous cock and he groaned. He shoved into her hands.

Callie stroked his cock. So hard and perfectly shaped. She made a humming sound.

His body locked, rocking into her touch. “Callie. Fuck.”

She stroked harder, faster. She liked watching the emotions cross his face. “Come for me, Brooks.”

A second later, his hands slammed onto the counter on either side of her hips. “Love your hands on my cock.”

“Me too.”

“I’m coming.” He groaned through his climax. Warm spurts of his come splashed onto her belly.

Then there was only the quiet hum of computers and the sound of their breathing. Her pulse was still racing, and it was going to take a while before it returned to normal.

One of Brooks’ computers pinged.

“Damn.” He tucked himself back into his jeans. “That means I need to do some tweaks to my search parameters.”

She reached over and grabbed a box of tissues, doing a quick cleanup. “And I need a shower again.”

His gaze was on her face. “Callie, that was…”

Soul shattering. Her belly jittered. She needed some time to process. She cupped his cheek. “We’ll talk later.”

He never looked away from her eyes. “You promise?”

“Yes.”

CHAPTER ELEVEN

Callie was dreaming.

Strong hands cupped her breasts, and she moaned, twisting in her sheets. One clever hand shifted between her thighs.

Yes. Desire was bigger and brighter than anything she’d felt before.

She heard the low, sexy rumble of Brooks’ dirty talk…

She woke, her body trembling and on the verge of orgasm. She twisted in the sheets of her bunk. She was very much alone. Flopping down, she let out a low groan.

She looked at the clock. It was morning and almost time to get up.

“Lights.”

The lights in her room flickered on. She lay there, contemplating whether or not to do anything about the throbbing in her lower belly.

Then her phone buzzed, and she reached for it. “Callie.”

“Callie.” Lachlan’s voice. “Meeting in the computer room. Now.”

She sat up, her muscles tensing. “Brooks found something?”

“Yes.”

“Be there in a sec.”

She took a lightning-quick shower, then pulled on some black cargos and a white tank. She was out the door and pulling her hair into a ponytail as she headed for the computer room.

She turned a corner and nearly ran into Blair. The other woman was wearing an almost identical outfit, except her tank was gray.

“Hey,” Callie said. “You know what’s happening?”

Blair shook her head, then she cocked it. “You look…different.”

Callie froze. “What do you mean?”

Her friend lowered her voice. “You look like you got yourself some.”

“What? No.”

“Liar.”

Callie huffed out a breath. “It’s not entirely a lie.”

“Hmm.”

“Later,” Callie muttered.

“I’m guessing Brooks has some sexy, talented hands.”

Callie’s head whipped up. Blair was grinning like a Cheshire cat.

“Using the keyboard all the time.” Blair made a humming sound. “I’m guessing that translates well to other things.”

“I’m not listening to you.” Callie strode past her and into the computer room.

The guys were already there, and the scent of coffee hit her. But her gaze unerringly moved straight to the counter where she’d fooled around with Brooks the night before.

Her belly tightened. She looked up at Brooks’ broad back. He turned around and shot her a smile, pushing his glasses up higher on his nose.

“Morning,” she managed. Those glasses made her squeeze her thighs together.

“Good morning.” He looked tired and rumpled, but his hair was damp, so she guessed he’d found time to shower. He was also wearing a clean shirt. This one was emblazoned with the words “Geek by day, Jedi by night.”

She swallowed a snort.

Lachlan pressed his hands to the counter, his intense gaze sweeping the room. “Brooks, what have you got?”

Brooks leaned against the counter, his tablet in hand. He turned to look at the screen.

Callie swallowed. The screen where she’d watched herself coming thanks to his clever mouth. Desire was a visceral hit between her legs.

Needing a distraction, she reached out and stole Seth’s coffee mug. She took a huge gulp. Her teammate scowled at her.

“I’ve been running all kinds of searches, and I got some pings,” Brooks said.

“Go on,” Blair said.

“The Windvale Church in Las Vegas. Mr. Ordinary, otherwise known as Howard Manning had been there the day before the attack. He worked closely with Brandon Mayfield.”

Everyone traded glances.

“Manning brought the shard here,” Lachlan said.

“That’s my theory,” Brooks said.

“Why?” Callie said. “Howard is a leader at Windvale. Why let Brandon Mayfield destroy one of their churches?”

“I don’t have the answer for that,” Brooks said. “But my guess is that he’s definitely looking for the larger jewel. Manning is second-in-charge of the entire Windvale Organization. He reports to this woman. Amy Holder.”

A picture of an attractive, middle-aged woman appeared. Callie guessed the woman was in her fifties, with her ash-blonde hair pulled up behind her head. She was smiling at the camera.

She didn’t look like an evil mastermind.

“Holder took over a small church founded by her father, and turned it into this—”

The next pictures showed packed auditoriums of people, lights whizzing overhead, ministers wearing headsets.

“Holder knows about the jewel, and asked Manning to snatch you,” Lachlan mused.

Brooks lifted a hand. “There’s no way to know for sure. Some of this just gives us more questions with no answers.”

“Unless we talk to her,” Callie said.

Lachlan looked at her, something working in his eyes.

“I’ve got more,” Brooks continued. “The name Holder came up in the Smithsonian data.”

Now, all the team straightened.

“Maxwell Holder was one of the men on the dig in Mexico years ago, reportedly looking for the wind jewel. Maxwell was Amy’s father. He died a few years back.”

More gazes were traded.

“I smell a trail,” Blair said.

“We need to pay this Amy Holder a visit in Arizona,” Lachlan said.

“I looked into her,” Brooks said. “Apparently, she’s prepping for a big charity ball that’s on this evening at the Wrigley Mansion in Phoenix. Windvale runs it every year, raising money for all the charity work the church conducts.” Brooks smiled. “I got you tickets, so get your tuxes out.” As Smith groaned, Brooks glanced at Blair and Callie. “And your sexy dresses.”

At the word dresses, Blair’s nose wrinkled.

“Get the X8 prepped,” Lachlan ordered.

“And Lachlan,” Brooks added. “This time, I’m coming.”

Callie tensed. What the hell? Brooks rarely came into the field with them.

“This is a low-risk trip,” Brooks said. “I deserve to know if this woman is behind my kidnapping. I can run the tech from the field, and my skills could be useful.”

“Brooks,” Callie said. “We never know when a mission might turn dangerous.”

Lachlan held up his prosthetic fingers. “You have the right, Brooks. And you’re correct, this is a low-risk trip. Now, find yourself a tux since we have a gala to attend.”

There were groans and everyone shuffled out of the room. They all preferred guns and boots.

THE JET-COPTER TOUCHED down at a private airport on the outskirts of Phoenix.

Brooks rose from his seat, sliding his tablet into his pocket. He was nervous, and fiddled idly with his necktie.

Seth appeared from the cockpit, looking like he’d been born in a tuxedo. Lachlan and Axel rose, both filling out their tuxes. Smith’s muscular frame strained against his jacket, and he tugged at his necktie. His scowl was thunderous.

Blair sauntered out behind Seth. She was wearing a long column of black that glimmered under the lights. A high slit on one side showed a lot of leg as she walked.

Callie rose from her seat and Brooks tried not to swallow his tongue. She was wearing a swirl of silk the color of the sea. It floated around her shapely calves and had the tiniest straps, leaving her toned shoulders bare. Her hair was shiny and loose, and made him think of black rain.

She smiled at him as she walked past. She was wearing a pair of killer black heels with a sexy ankle strap and red soles. When he lifted his gaze, his body locked. Her dress had no back. All he saw was sleek skin.

Brooks swallowed a groan, trying to control his body’s unruly response.

Outside, a black van was waiting for them. Kinsey arranged all their logistics, and never failed to organize everything the team needed.

Lachlan slid open the side door, while Smith got behind the wheel.

Inside, the van was high-tech. It had a top-of-the-line computer system, and compartments he knew would be packed with anything and everything they might need. Brooks sat and buckled his seatbelt.

Soon, Smith had them pulling out of the airport and heading toward the historic Wrigley Mansion, where Windvale was holding their gala event. The sprawling, mostly Spanish colonial style building sat atop a hill and had been built by chewing gum magnate, William Wrigley Jr.

By the time they pulled up, night had fallen, and the event was in full swing. As they walked up the drive, sleek cars were pulling up and disgorging elegantly dressed guests.

People streamed up the stairs to the ornate front entrance and into the huge, white mansion. The team flashed their invitations at the door, and entered the grand ballroom. Lights were strung across the beams of the ornate ceiling. Brooks scanned the room and fought back a whistle. Enormous vases of fresh flowers graced the tables and the windows gave a fabulous view of Phoenix spread out before them. Guests filled the room, the women dripping with expensive jewelry.

“Security is discreet,” Lachlan murmured. “Suited guards at the door and probably around the grounds.”

“None in the ballroom,” Blair added.

At the front of the room was a stage, and large screens displayed a slideshow of pictures. Smiling people working with the homeless, others serving food at soup kitchens, some teaching young children, others visiting the sick in hospitals.

Maybe this Amy Holder wasn’t involved. How could you support people in need like this, but be doing bad things behind the scenes? Maybe the woman had no idea what her people were doing right under her nose.

All around, the sounds of polite conversation, subdued laughter and the clinking of champagne glasses filled the room. Doors on the far side of the room opened onto a patio.

He saw Blair and Callie grab champagne glasses from a passing server. He knew they wouldn’t drink it—it was just for show, so they blended in.

“Mingle,” Lachlan murmured.

Smith let out an unhappy grunt.

Brooks skirted some groups of partygoers. One woman turned, eyeing him with interest. But then he spotted Amy Holder on the other side of the room.

She was at the front of the ballroom, talking animatedly with several people. She was a handsome woman, and tonight her hair was in a sleek, complicated twist. Her blue dress was conservative, swirling around her ankles.

She smiled and nodded to her companions, one elegant hand gesturing as she spoke.

Brooks took a step toward her, when a man moved to her side. Manning.

Seeing Mr. Ordinary was like a punch to the gut. For a second, Brooks was back in that cell.

“Brooks.” Callie slid her arm through his and pulled him to face her.

“Ordinary…Manning. He’s here.”

She pulled him toward the edge of the room, where thick, velvet curtains hung. She touched her ear. “Lachlan, Manning is with Holder at the front of the room.”

“Acknowledged.”

“You okay?” she asked Brooks.

He straightened and nodded.

“Good.” She patted his cheek.

The loud, rumbling sound of someone moving a microphone made them both turn toward the stage. Amy Holder adjusted the microphone and smiled at the crowd.

“Welcome. Thank you all for coming tonight. It is because of your caring, your empathy, and your generosity that the proceeds from tonight’s event will go to help so many people in need. People who need us to step in and provide the things they desperately need. We can be a guiding light in the darkness. The work that Windvale Church does is so vital to so many communities. So be generous at the silent auction tonight. Very generous.”

Polite laughter tinkled around the room.

Amy Holder’s expression changed, emotion crossing it. “My father was my hero. He founded Windvale with nothing but hope and a prayer. I took his legacy and expanded it, so we could help so many more. I want to help this world that we call home. And you are all a part of that, and help make it possible.”

Applause broke out.

“Thank you. Drink, eat, and enjoy your evening.”

Brooks watched Holder leave the stage. “Nice speech.”

“You think she’s legit?” Callie asked.

“Not sure yet. She might just be a pawn.”

Seth sauntered out of the crowd, moving smoothly in close to Holder. He separated her from the others, talking and smiling. She responded to whatever he was saying, her face alight.

Then he gestured and through his earpiece, Brooks tuned into the conversation.

“I’m in awe of the work you and your organization do, Ms. Holder. I’m interested in making a donation.” Seth paused. “A very large donation.”

“I am thrilled to hear that, Mr. Kensington. It is businessmen like you who help us make a difference.”

Brooks raised his eyebrows. Kensington. Sounded very fancy, the perfect name for a rich dude.

Seth glanced around. “Is there somewhere quieter where we can talk?”

“Yes, come this way.”

Amy Holder led Seth down a hall. Callie tugged on Brooks’ arm and they followed. She linked her arm through his, laughing. Anyone looking at them wouldn’t be suspicious.

Seconds later, the rest of the team joined them. When Holder ushered Seth into a plush office, Team 52 slipped inside behind them. Lachlan closed the door behind him and locked it.

Holder scanned them all, her face not even changing. She didn’t start, or look confused or afraid. She watched them steadily.

She glanced at Seth. “I’m guessing I’m not getting that fat check.”

Seth shook his head. “No.”

“And I guess your name isn’t Kensington either.” She straightened. “What do you want?”

“Information,” Lachlan said.

She eyed Lachlan for a long second, then swiveled and headed to a cabinet at the side of the room. She lifted a decanter containing some amber liquid, then poured some into a thick-cut, crystal glass.

Turning back, she swirled the glass, then took a sip. “Go ahead, but be quick. I need to get back to my gala.”

The woman had balls, that was for sure.

“Do you know this man?” Lachlan pointed to Brooks.

Holder’s gaze landed on him, and something cold and calculating moved through her eyes. He expected to hear a polite lie.

“Brooks Jameson. I ordered my men to have him be our guest and get us some important information.”

Brooks blew out the breath he’d been holding, amazed at her audacity. She was boldly admitting to abducting him. “You ordered them to drag me off the street, beat me, and torture me and my friend.”

She sipped her drink. “I asked them to talk with you. That was all.”

Brooks pressed his lips into a firm line and waited, silent.

“I needed information,” she said. “I need the wind jewel.”

“Why?” Brooks demanded.

“Because it’s my father’s legacy. I grew up adoring him, his little shadow from the moment I could walk. I took his beloved church and turned it into something amazing.” She swirled the drink again, her voice filled with fervor. “He spent a lifetime searching for the wind jewel. And I intend to find it. No matter what.”

Brooks felt a shiver down his spine. This woman would do anything to find the artifact.

“And the shard?” Lachlan said.

A small smile played on the woman’s lips. “It was in my father’s private collection. My men were planning to test its capabilities…”

“But?” Blair prompted.

“Brandon Mayfield was ambitious and overeager. He disobeyed orders.”

“We can’t let you have the wind jewel, Ms. Holder,” Lachlan said.

She merely lifted her chin in reply.

Lachlan took a step forward. “I’m here tonight to bring a message to you. You touch any of my team again, and you’ll regret it.”

Shit, Lachlan’s cutting tone scared even Brooks.

But Amy Holder barely blinked. She gave them an elegant shrug. “You don’t frighten me, Mr. Hunter.” She scanned the team again. “I will make the world a better place, that’s my legacy. I’m driven by my passion. The world is going to hell around us and I won’t let it.” Her smile was sharp and predatory. “The wind jewel will help me realize those dreams.”

“How?” Brooks asked. “What will you do with it?”

Her eyes glittered. “I’ll achieve nirvana for the righteous, and eradicate sin.” She set the glass down and then turned on her heel. “Don’t get in my way.”

In a cloud of perfume, she disappeared out the door.

CHAPTER TWELVE

Team 52 sat in the back of the van, eating takeout as they headed back to the airport. This time, Seth was behind the wheel.

Callie had kicked off her fabulous heels, and flexed and pointed her tired feet as they drove back to the X8.

“What a bitch,” Blair bit out, between mouthfuls of French fries.

Yeah, Amy Holder was about as warm and fuzzy as an iceberg. Callie took a bite of her sub, her gaze sliding to Brooks.

He had his computer in his lap and he was tapping away. His brow was creased, and she wanted to reach out and smooth the groove away.

Instead, she took another bite of her dinner.

Brooks tapped some more and then looked up. He shot her a sexy grin and her belly fluttered.

“Holder’s planning something,” Lachlan said. “And she has the resources.”

Brooks nodded. “The Windvale Church brings in millions from its followers every year.”

“And she can throw those millions at searching for the wind jewel,” Lachlan added.

Frowning, Brooks tapped at the computer again, his dinner forgotten at his elbow.

“Brooks?” Callie asked. “What are you doing?”

“Trying to hack the Windvale Headquarters computer system.”

Everyone stopped eating and looked at him.

“Nice,” Axel said.

“You got anything?” Lachlan asked.

Brooks flopped back in his seat. He reached out and stole a fry from Blair’s dinner. She smacked his hand away.

“Nothing interesting. Basic website info, financials, but there is a reference to a discrete system.”

“A what?” Smith asked, finishing off his second burger.

“They have a computer system at the church, where Holder’s office is, but it’s not connected to the Internet.”

Lachlan set his sub down. “Anyone interested in some nighttime B and E?”

“Breaking and entering is illegal,” Blair said with a grin.

“Lucky MacKade doesn’t have jurisdiction here, then,” Callie said.

“I’m feeling the need to save my soul,” Axel said. “Let’s go to church.”

Lachlan raised his voice. “Seth, change of plans.”

Brooks tapped his computer. “Luckily for you, I’ve already pulled up the schematics of the Windvale Headquarters.”

As they changed directions, it didn’t take the team long to plan their infiltration. Then everyone shed the remnants of their fancy clothes, and slid into all-black combat gear.

It was quite possible that Callie even ogled Brooks’ tight abs a little bit as he got changed. She felt a little trickle of unease. He was getting so deep under her skin and she didn’t know what to do about it.

As Brooks packed his tablet, and the others checked their weapons, Callie packed her first aid kit.

Then she swallowed. It was unlikely they’d run into any trouble in an empty church late at night, but taking Brooks into any kind of danger left her feeling jittery.

Still, she knew the team would protect him. And surprisingly, their tech geek could handle himself. He’d proven that.

They pulled up a couple of blocks over from the Windvale Church. This late at night, the streets were empty, and most people would be in their beds. The team slipped out of the van and headed through the darkness.

They all held their CXMs on their shoulders, everyone scanning their surroundings. Soon, they stood at the perimeter of the church. It was a huge, hulking shape in the shadows. It was even bigger than the church in Vegas.

“Security?” Lachlan looked at Brooks.

Brooks swiped his tablet, the faint light from it illuminating his face. “Disabled.”

“Nice,” Seth murmured.

Sticking to the shadows, they jumped the low fence, and moved through the manicured gardens. They reached a side door and Seth picked the lock.

Then they slipped inside.

They were in a large lobby. They moved quietly through the space and peered through a set of wide doors. Callie looked down into an enormous auditorium. She shook her head at the rows and rows of seats.

“Offices are upstairs,” Brooks murmured.

They moved up a wide sweep of stairs lined by a glass balustrade.

Upstairs, security lights set to low showed off the nice, cheery offices. There were lots of plants, and the walls were lined with posters of perfect-looking people with perfect teeth, smiling perfectly.

“Holder’s office is over there.” Brooks pointed.

“Seth, Blair, you two go and search her office,” Lachlan ordered.

With a nod, the pair melted into the darkness.

The rest of them continued straight ahead, until they reached a heavy-duty black door.

“Server room,” Brooks said.

He studied the electronic lock, then plugged in his tablet. His face turned focused, and his fingers flew over the tablet screen.

It was sexy watching him do his thing.

“They have extra security here.” His voice rose with excitement. “Mmm, tricky, tricky. And an alarm.” He tapped and swiped more quickly. “We don’t want to trigger that.”

Yep, totally a hot geek.

As she watched him, her skin prickled, and she glanced over to see Axel eyeing her. She knew the former Delta soldier, for all his easy charm, was very observant. She quickly looked away.

“Got it.” Brooks grinned at them.

The lights on the lock blinked and the door clicked open.

Callie got a glimpse of high-tech, blinking electronic equipment lined up floor to ceiling. Brooks hurried inside, moving to a sleek terminal.

“I need to plug in, and then hack the blahdy blah blah before I can access the blahdy blah.”

Okay, so he didn’t use those terms, but the ones he did use sounded super confusing to Callie.

Lachlan looked at Callie, then at Axel. Behind them, Smith grunted.

“Do it,” Lachlan said.

Brooks hunched over the terminal and tuned them out.

“You didn’t understand anything he said, did you?” Axel muttered.

Lachlan’s serious face didn’t change. “No.”

Then Brooks cursed.

Callie tensed. “What?”

He looked up. “Hidden security. I fucking triggered it. My guess…” He blew out a breath. “They know we’re here.”

“Fuck,” Lachlan muttered. “You get any data yet?”

“Not yet.”

“Work faster.”

“COME ON, YOU SLIPPERY LITTLE SUCKER.”

Brooks worked hard to hack through the Windvale system. They had to get the data. Whoever put in the cyber security was good.

But not good enough.

He grinned. “I’m in.”

“Copy everything,” Lachlan ordered. “And make it fast. We need to get out of here.”

Blair and Seth returned.

“We got copies of some of Holder’s private journals,” Blair said.

“And we have company,” Seth said. “SUV just pulled up.”

“Five guys,” Blair said. “All armed and moving like they have military training.”

“We’re out of time, Brooks,” Lachlan said.

“I’m nearly there,” he answered. “I need a few more minutes.”

With a low curse, Lachlan lifted his weapon. “Smith, stay with Brooks. The rest of us, let’s go buy him some time. We’ll take down the perps, quietly and non-lethal.”

Brooks watched them all disappear into the shadows. Callie was last, moving like a ghost. In a blink, she was gone.

Brooks blew out a breath and forced his concentration back to the terminal.

Come on. A green bar flashed on his screen, showing the percentage of data copied. It was moving too damn slowly.

Then he heard gunshots below.

Brooks stiffened. That didn’t sound quiet, or non-lethal.

“Fuck.” Smith touched his ear, listening to the others. “Two down, three unaccounted for. We need to go.”

Brooks looked at the screen. “Just a bit more—”

“It’ll have to do,” Smith said impatiently.

“Wait.” The bar filled and flashed complete. “Got it!” Brooks unplugged and shoved the tablet in his pocket.

“Stay behind me.” Smith moved out, heading toward the stairs.

A large form came out of nowhere and rammed into Smith.

Brooks jumped back, his heart pounding. He saw the men go down, wrestling across the floor. It was a hard, vicious fight. The sounds of fists thudding on flesh filling the space.

But Smith was big and powerful. He punched the guy’s head, and, with a groan, the man collapsed.

Smith grabbed his weapon and rose. “Let’s go.”

More gunfire sounded from the floor below. It was coming from the auditorium.

Be okay. Be okay. Smith and Brooks started down the stairs.

Bullets hit the wall behind them, the shots echoing through the lobby.

Shit.

Smith grunted and slammed into Brooks.

They went down hard on the stairs, the edge of one step hitting him in the ribs. More gunfire. They were pinned down.

Smith’s weight lifted off him, and the big man swiveled on one knee and returned fire.

Bullets hit the glass balustrade, and it shattered into a million pieces. Brooks ducked his head.

“Need an assist,” Smith barked.

“Coming.” Callie’s voice in his earpiece.

Smith kept firing, and another pane of glass shattered. A barrage of bullets slammed into the wall above their heads. Brooks and Smith ducked down as low as they could.

“Stay low,” Smith said. “But we have to move, or we’re dead.”

They crawled down the stairs. Glass shards cut into Brooks’ hands, but he didn’t feel any pain. He was pumped too full of adrenaline.

They reached the landing and Smith started firing. Brooks rose, then turned, sticking close to the wall.

A man came out of the darkness, a rifle pointed directly at Brooks’ head.

Shit.

Bang.

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

Callie heard the boom of the gunshot. She saw Brooks fall.

Her heart stopped.

No. No. No.

She whipped up her CXM and fired.

Her shots slammed into the attacker and he went down.

She walked forward on autopilot, a rush of sound in her ears. She kept firing. The bastard had shot Brooks.

“Kimura!”

Smith grabbed her arm and she snarled at him.

“He’s dead,” Smith said. “Help Brooks.”

Gasping in air, she spun and saw Brooks sitting at the bottom step. He was conscious, but clearly dazed, with blood running down the side of his head.

He was alive. The pain tearing her up inside eased.

Alive, but hurt.

Quickly, she moved to him and dropped to her knees. Her mouth was parched, and her heart was thundering in her chest. Where was her cool? She’d been a brilliant combat paramedic because she’d always been so cool under fire.

But now, her hands were shaking. She cupped his jaw.

His dark eyes focused on her. “I’m okay. I think it’s just a graze.” He was talking loudly.

Callie quickly checked the gash. He had a shallow groove on the side of his skull. She swallowed. A graze from a bullet. Shit. Another inch and…

She blocked that thought and ripped open her first aid kit. She pulled out what she needed, and started cleaning the wound.

Suddenly, he grabbed her wrists and stroked her skin. She realized her hands were still shaking.

“I’m okay, Cal.”

She looked into his handsome face. Then she urged his hands down. She saw that his gorgeous hands were covered in blood. They were peppered with nicks, and had some tiny shards of glass stuck in them.

She leaned in and kissed him quickly, then she got to work. Brooks needed her right now.

She cleaned his head wound and bandaged it, then carefully got to work on his hands. His right hand wasn’t bad, but on his left, she removed the tiny shards she could see. The rest would have to wait until they were safe. She pressed bandages over the worst of the cuts.

The rest of the team circled around them.

“We need to go,” Lachlan said. “We’ll have more company soon, and I’d prefer to avoid the mess.”

“Up and at it, Jameson.” Blair helped Brooks to his feet.

They moved in a tight group, heading out of the church.

They stepped quietly and purposefully into the night. A single shot fired, chipping the concrete step near to where they stood. As one, the team hit the ground.

“Sniper,” Smith growled.

Another crack.

“Crawl.” Callie stayed close to Brooks, urging him into the manicured bushes.

Lachlan and Blair disappeared into the darkness. The others grouped around Brooks, providing cover and returning fire.

“How the hell do you guys do this all the time?” Brooks grumbled.

Callie patted his arm.

“Sniper neutralized.” Lachlan’s voice came through their earpieces.

Callie helped Brooks to his feet, and they hit the street. He picked up his pace.

“Don’t run.” She took his bandaged hand. “Look like you belong. Like you’re out for a stroll.”

He nodded, slowing his steps.

As they reached the van, the wail of sirens pierced the night. They all slid into the van, and Lachlan closed the door behind them.

Seth pulled the van out onto the street, sticking to the speed limit.

“Everyone okay?” Lachlan asked.

Brooks sat in his seat, vibrating with energy. They’d made it. “I am totally pumped.”

“You were shot.” Callie’s voice came out more sharply than she intended. Her insides were still twisted.

In her head, she kept seeing him go down. She knew she’d see that moment in her nightmares, over and over.

“It’s just a graze.”

“On your head.” Callie knew the world would be a far darker place without Brooks in it. She couldn’t imagine it without Brooks and his big, sexy brain, his hard, muscled body, and his lopsided smile.

She pulled in a steadying breath. Things were shifting inside her, and the world was going all topsy-turvy.

“Your adrenaline is going to crash,” she warned, turning her focus onto Brooks, instead.

“Right now, I feel on top of the world! I’m alive, and we got the data. I uploaded it all to our secure server. I’m never coming down.”

“WAKE UP, SLEEPING BEAUTY.”

Brooks blinked awake. He was slumped in a seat on the X8. Callie was crouched in front of him, a small smile on her face.

He looked around blearily and saw the others were getting off the aircraft. His hands throbbed.

“Where are we?” They’d only gotten on the jet-copter a few seconds ago.

“Vegas. After I cleaned your hands and gave you a painkiller, you crashed and slept the whole way.”

Really? Shit, he hoped he hadn’t drooled.

Callie leaned forward, checking his head wound. Her coconut scent wrapped around him. Her small, perfectly formed breasts were inches from his face.

Brooks swallowed.

“Your head looks fine. Don’t get it wet. I’ll give you some more painkillers to take if it or your hands hurt. I’m going to drop you home.”

When they got inside the Bunker, the others were already heading out to their vehicles. Well, except Smith and Kinsey. Smith had his arms wrapped around his woman, and the blonde’s slim legs were clamped around the big man’s waist. They were kissing like they were the only two people on Earth.

Watching them made something close to envy crawl through Brooks’ throat.

As soon as he slid into Callie’s Nissan, she started the engine. The street was empty of traffic as they left the airport.

“I need to start a search on the data we got. If I—”

“Tomorrow, Brooks. It’s late, you were hurt. Sleep, first.”

He’d napped on the flight. He wasn’t feeling tired right now. He generally didn’t need much sleep.

She clicked on the radio and some classic rock filtered through the speakers. Before he knew it, she pulled up at his condo. Callie got out of the car, and Brooks felt a vague sense of déjà vu.

His mouth dry, they walked through the front door of his building. He was so damn aware of her.

He opened his front door. “Thanks, Callie.”

Her body hit him. Her mouth was on his.

Shit. Now, he had a full-blown case of dirty déjà vu. He grabbed her ass and backed inside. His back hit the wall.

Her kiss was hungry, like she needed him to breathe, to live.

“I’ve been needing this all night,” she said against his lips.

With his foot, he slammed the door closed behind them. They were both breathing in rasping, panting breaths. She bit his neck, and he groaned. His fingers flexed on her ass.

“Callie.” He breathed her in. “Damn, you smell good. You always smell good.”

Her teeth scraped his neck. His cock was so hard it was aching.

She rubbed her body against him, and pleasure ripped through him. He cupped her breasts, thumbing her hard nipples. He hated that the bandages on his left hand got in his way. He wanted to feel her, every part of her.

“I want to suck you here,” he panted.

Her breath hitched. “There’s not much to them.”

“I think they’re perfect.”

He tugged down the scooped neckline of her top, shaping her breasts with his hands. Her hands slid under his T-shirt and over his abs. She sucked on his neck.

Then her hands were opening his jeans and slipping inside.

Shit. He jerked, praying he didn’t embarrass himself.

“I love your cock, Brooks. Long and gorgeous. Smooth and hard.”

Her husky voice made his gut tighten. She stroked him, and his breathing was harsh gasps now. She jacked him harder and he groaned, pulling her closer.

She rubbed one finger over the tip of his cock, and a tortured sound ripped from his lips.

That was it; he’d reached his limit. He pushed her back, grabbed her hand, and started to drag her down the hall.

“Bedroom. Now,” he ordered. “Or I’ll take you right back there against the door.”

“Really?” she breathed. “Because that’s not really much of a deterrent.”

“I want you in my bed.” He swatted her delicious ass. “Move, Kimura. Now.”

THEY ENTERED HIS DARKENED BEDROOM, both breathing fast.

Brooks grabbed Callie, those sexy hands clenching on her hips.

“Your hands?” she panted.

“Fine. All I can feel is you.”

Their kiss was all tongues and lips. All-consuming. If she didn’t get him inside her soon…

Callie was so aware of the beat of his heart, his yummy scent, his big body. She gripped his shirt, and he helped her pull it over his head.

They kept kissing, taking each other’s clothes off. She ended up naked first and shaking with need. This had never happened before. She liked to hold on to some of the control when she was with a guy.

With Brooks, her control had taken a long vacation.

He cupped her jaw, the move almost tender. She looked into his eyes and saw a flare of heat. He pushed her back on the bed, then reached over and flicked on the bedside lamp.

He was only wearing his jeans. Callie let her gaze run over his chest, his tattoos, his abs. She cupped her breasts, her legs moving restlessly on the sheets.

He groaned. “You are so damn beautiful, Callie.”

She felt beautiful when he looked at her like that. Like she was the only woman in the world.

“Take the jeans off, Brooks.”

That earned her a sexy smile. “Yes, ma’am.”

He shoved the denim off and then stood there, just Brooks. Her chest hitched. His cock jutted out—hard, long, flushed.

“You’re beautiful,” she breathed.

“You mean macho and manly.”

“That, too.” Smiling, she crooked a finger at him.

He moved over, the bed dipping slightly when he pressed a knee to it. Then he lowered himself over her. God, she loved the weight of him.

He nipped her lips, then leaned down, licking her breast. He found one nipple and took his time sucking on it.

She ran her hands over his shoulders. She was just a mass of need now. She wrapped a leg around his hip.

“Brooks, I need your cock.”

“Patience.” He tugged on her nipple.

“Now.” She gripped his hair and gave it a firm pull.

In retaliation, he nipped her breast. She moaned.

“You need my cock stretching you,” he growled. “Filling you up?”

Ah, her dirty talker had arrived. “Yes.” She writhed beneath him.

He raised his head and their gazes locked. Callie almost heard the click of connection.

She stroked her hands down his firm back. All those intriguing muscles flexed under her fingers.

“I’m empty,” she whispered.

He groaned, pushing up on his arms. His weight was gone, and she heard the sound of a drawer opening, then the crinkle of a wrapper.

Then he was back over her curling her legs around him. She felt the thick head of his cock nudge her opening.

“I’ll fill you up,” he said.

“Yes.” She reared up, her hands clenching on him.

“You want me deep, Callie? Fucking you hard?”

“Yes!”

“I want to be balls-deep inside you, Cal.” He pushed in, hard and firm.

She felt the burn and let out a half moan, half whimper.

He paused. “Callie?”

“More.” She gripped his shoulders, her nails scoring his skin.

With one hard thrust, he was all the way in, seated to the root. Callie cried out and Brooks groaned.

She was so full. And it was so damn good. So full of Brooks. He started thrusting, finding a firm, steady beat.

“I love your cock,” she cried out.

“You’re all hot and wet, and gripping me so tight.”

“The last few days, all I’ve thought about is having your gorgeous cock deep inside me.” She gripped his ass and urged him on.

Brooks groaned, plunging faster and wilder. He reared up, moving onto his knees. He gripped her hips, lifting her up to his thrusts. Each hard plunge made her grunt.

Callie felt a tight, bright ball of pleasure growing in her belly. “Brooks.”

“You close? Are you there?” His voice was a harsh growl.

She couldn’t respond. He pounded into her, losing his rhythm. Then her climax hit from out of nowhere. She screamed, the pleasure like an explosion.

Brooks thrust harder, once, twice, three times. Then he lodged deep, shouting her name as he came.

When he collapsed on her, Callie sucked in air. He rolled to the side, taking her with him and managing to keep his cock inside her.

They lay there, recovering.

“That was…” Callie shook her head. “I can’t think of a word to describe how good that was.”

Brooks raised his head, his thick hair rumpled and marred only by the bright-white bandage she’d put there earlier. He shot her that sexy, lopsided grin of his. “Want to do it again?”

She felt his cock stir inside her and the answering spike of heat in her belly. “Yes.”

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

“Oh, fuck, Callie.”

Brooks clenched his hands on Callie’s sweet ass. She was riding him, her slim, toned body moving up and down on him.

Her nails pressed into his pecs. “Brooks.”

He’d never heard anything better than Callie moaning his name while he was deep inside her. He ran his hand down her taut belly and found her clit.

As he thumbed the small nub, he felt her inner muscles clench on his cock. Fuck. It didn’t take long, and she exploded, her back arching, her black, silky hair flowing behind her.

Her body clenched on his cock again, and his own climax hit like lightning. Groaning her name, he poured himself inside her.

Callie slumped on his chest and he reached up, stroking her sleek back. Then he stared at the ceiling, loving the feel of her against him. Loving having her here in his bed.

He felt the most content he’d ever felt. Callie knew him, all parts of him, and she clearly liked what she saw.

She pressed a kiss to his chest. “I could totally spend all day in bed with you.”

“I like being with you, Cal.”

She tensed for a second, then relaxed. “I like it too. It’s fun.”

Brooks bit back a frustrated sigh. What they were doing was way beyond fun. But it was okay, he knew she was skittish. They’d go slow.

Unless she got tired of him. His gut clenched, old insecurities that he thought he’d conquered rearing their ugly heads.

His phone beeped on the bedside table, interrupting his thoughts.

Callie lifted her head and glanced at it. “Damn. We have to go.” She scrambled off him. “We have a plane to catch.”

“Right.” He watched her disappear into his bathroom. They had a job to do.

During the night, he’d managed to completely forget about the data they’d stolen from Windvale.

After they showered and dressed, Callie demanded to check his injuries. Whatever she’d put on his head and hands the night before had made them feel loads better already. They made toast, eating in the kitchen he rarely used.

When they pulled up at the Bunker, they were the last to arrive.

“What do we tell everyone?” he asked.

“Nothing. This is just between us.”

Those words were like a sneaky knife to the gut. Made what they’d shared seem like a dirty, little secret. The bad taste in his mouth reminded him of that long-ago cheerleader who’d only been happy to kiss the geek in secret.

Shit, neither he nor Callie were teenagers. The past was the past. “Sure.”

She studied his face, her eyes changing. “Brooks—”

“Let’s go.” He grabbed his backpack, cutting her off. When he climbed aboard the X8, he managed a casual wave. “Morning.” He dropped into a seat.

Axel leaned forward. “You look tired, mi amigo. And very, very relaxed for a man who got shot last night.”

“It was a graze.”

He purposely didn’t look as Callie took a seat.

Axel’s brows drew together. “You look like a man who got himself some.”

Brooks felt heat in his cheeks. “What?”

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Callie across the aisle, studiously reading a magazine.

“You snuck out for a hookup,” Axel said.

Brooks hunched his shoulders. “No, I didn’t.”

“You got a girl, Brooks, and you haven’t shared this information?”

“Um…” Brooks fidgeted in his seat.

Axel wagged a finger. “You can’t keep a secret from me, amigo.”

Brooks lifted his tablet. “I have work to do. Bad guys to catch.” He pulled his glasses out of his bag and slid them on.

Axel grumbled, but Brooks focused instead on prepping the data. He lost himself in his work, and when he finally blinked and looked up, they were descending to land at Area 52.

Once they’d landed in front of the huge hangar, they shuffled off the X8 and past the Air Force guards in their blue-gray camouflage uniforms. They headed down in the large elevator.

The team pushed out of the elevator, Lachlan and Blair already planning some training. Black metal walls lined the huge space. To one side, enormous doors guarded the entrance to the secure storage facility packed full of recovered artifacts. To the other side, the glass-lined corridors led to their work spaces.

Callie brushed past Brooks and lowered her voice. “Your sexy glasses are a turn-on. Big time.”

And just like that, Brooks was fighting an erection. Shit.

The dull echo of boots made him swivel and he swallowed a groan. An older man with a muscular body clothed in black fatigues, and his hair clipped short in a buzz cut, was bearing down on them. His faded blue eyes locked on Brooks and he scowled.

“Hey, Arlo,” Brooks said.

The former Air Force man was in charge of their storage facility. He also had the temperament of a bear woken from hibernation.

“Jameson, heard you got snatched by bad guys?”

“Unfortunately, yes. But I’m okay.”

Arlo grunted. “Kimura tracked you down and you both got nabbed.”

Brooks glanced at Callie. She looked like she was trying not to laugh. “Yes, but Cal would have done that for any of us. I wouldn’t have made it without her.”

“You shot someone.”

Brooks’ gut rolled. “Yeah.”

Arlo looked at the bandage on Brooks’ head. “And you got shot.”

“It’s a graze.” Brooks tried not to grind his teeth together.

Arlo nodded. “You’ll do.” A brusque nod. “Don’t get snatched again, and don’t get shot in the head again, either.”

“Graze. And I can assure you, neither of those things are high on my priority list.”

Another grunt. “You’re better behind a computer. Stay there.” The older man pivoted and stomped back toward the warehouse.

“Grumpy old man,” Brooks muttered.

“I heard that,” Arlo said without looking back.

Thankfully, the brisk click of heels made Brooks turn the other way. Natalie was striding down the corridor, Director Jonah Grayson beside her.

“Update,” the director demanded.

Lachlan ran down the mission in Arizona. Jonah turned his head, his intense green eyes locking on Brooks. “You’ll comb through the Windvale data?”

Brooks lifted his tablet. “Already started.”

Jonah nodded. “Good.”

“I can help,” Nat said.

Brooks smiled. “Seth and Blair took photos of some of Amy Holder’s journals. Can you take a look at them?”

“Sure.”

Once Brooks entered his computer room, he cracked his knuckles. Then he started to work on the data. His top-of-the-line systems here at the base would make the search faster.

There was a bunch of everyday church stuff, but there was other information as well. He found some data on Manning, but nothing that raised any red flags.

Then Brooks found the secret files.

Well, hello. Hmm, someone had worked hard to encrypt these files and bury them in the system.

He set about breaking the encryption. Finally, a challenge.

“Brooks?”

He blinked, hearing Callie’s voice. “Hey.”

She set a steaming mug of coffee down in front of him.

“You’re a goddess.” He took a sip.

She smiled and then she lifted a hand, touching his hair and then his glasses. Unsurprisingly, his cock woke up and took notice.

“You are so damn sexy,” she said.

He tugged her closer. “You’re the sexy one. I can’t stop thinking about you.”

She snorted. “You’ve been in here for hours. I’m pretty sure you haven’t given me a single thought.”

“At least one or two thoughts, I swear.” He ran his hands along the waistband of her cargo pants, finding skin. Her lips parted. “Are your panties damp?”

She gasped. “God, I love that dirty mouth of yours.” She eyed him. “They might be.”

“I want to kiss you.” And he wanted to find out for himself how wet she was.

“We’re working,” she reminded him.

“Right. Right.” He shoved his glasses up the bridge of his nose. Dammit.

Then she leaned down and pressed her mouth to his.

Brooks groaned, snaking an arm around her and deepening the kiss.

“What the fuck?” Axel’s voice.

Brooks and Callie pulled apart. The entire team stood in the doorway, watching them with scowls, raised eyebrows, and grins. Blair was grinning and the men were scowling.

Blair sauntered in. “Finally.”

“You knew about this?” Axel tossed her an accusing look.

“Surely you picked up the vibes,” Blair said.

“I told her,” Callie added.

Blair wrinkled her nose. “Okay, so Callie told me.”

Axel looked at Callie, then Brooks. He pointed a finger at Brooks. “You break her heart, I’ll hurt you.” He swiveled to Callie. “You break his heart, I’ll hurt you.”

“Relax, Axel,” Callie said. “Brooks and I are adults.”

The others all grinned and chuckled. Lachlan shook his head. “Do your jobs, and I don’t care what you do behind closed doors.”

“They weren’t playing tonsil hockey behind closed doors,” Axel noted.

Brooks’ computer pinged. Then it pinged again and again.

“We hit something.” His pulse spiked and he scanned the data. “Shit.”

“What?” Callie leaned over his shoulder.

“Amy Holder. I set up some alerts. She boarded a flight.”

“Where’s she headed?” Lachlan demanded.

“Flight plan has her going to Kingman, Arizona.”

“Kingman?” Lachlan frowned. “What the hell is in Kingman?”

“Not much.” Brooks tapped on his computer. “It’s the county seat of Mohave County. Population 28,000.”

“Guys.” Nat appeared in the doorway, a notebook clutched to her chest. “We have a problem.” She strode in and slapped the book on the bench.

“What’s wrong?” Callie asked.

“I’ve been going through Amy Holder’s private journal.” Nat tucked a strand of black hair behind her ear. “She’s…unhinged. Her church and public persona is all about charity and helping the less fortunate. But it’s a front. This—” Nat tapped the notebook “—talks about how only the worthy and virtuous deserve to inhabit the planet. The uneducated, the poor, the ignorant, anyone who doesn’t worship her god…they aren’t worthy.”

“Jesus,” Lachlan muttered.

“There’s more.” Nat drew in a breath. “She has a second shard.”

“What?” Brooks barked. “You’re joking.”

Nat shook her head. “Her father found two shards of the wind jewel. He had them in his collection.”

“Where’s the second shard now?” Seth asked.

“Holder has it,” Nat said. “And she talks about using it in her notes. About testing its capabilities in a very public way.”

Lachlan uttered a harsh curse.

“Nat,” Callie said. “Holder just flew into Kingman, Arizona.”

The archeologist’s eyes widened. “Oh, no.”

“What? What’s important about Kingman?” Brooks asked.

“I went there last year,” Nat said. “It’s the closest city to the Grand Canyon Skywalk.”

Brooks sucked in a breath. “The glass walkway built over the canyon.”

Nat nodded.

“And if you wanted to make a big impact, destroying an attraction at one of the most famous landmarks in the country would do it,” Lachlan said. “Team 52, we need to get to the skywalk. Fast.”

The team leaped into action. Brooks grabbed Callie and pulled her close.

“I’ll be careful,” she promised.

“I know you will.” Damn, he wanted to wrap his arms around her and stop her from going.

She’d probably punch him.

He kissed her—quick but deep. “See you when you get back. Go kick some ass.”

She nodded, then was gone.

Brooks sagged against the counter. He was totally falling for Callie. He closed his eyes. Falling for the most beautiful, the kindest, and toughest woman he knew. A woman who guarded her heart with the toughest defenses.

He turned to his computer. He’d worry about his heart and hers later, right now, he had to do his bit to keep her and the team safe.

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

The X8 swept in over the Grand Canyon.

But Callie paid little attention to the breath-taking scenery. Instead, her gaze was on the U-shaped, glass structure that arched off the side of the cliff. The tourist attraction was owned by the Hualapai Indian tribe and was extremely popular. Right now, a dark swirl of gray clouds hovered over the skywalk, churning and boiling. Wild winds were picking up clouds of dust and the red washed out into the canyon.

Callie could see the dots of terrified tourists stuck on the rocking walkway.

“Holy shit,” Smith muttered. The man was standing, holding a handhold above his head, staring out the side window.

Suddenly, winds buffeted the jet-copter, setting it rocking.

“Winds are too strong to get any closer,” Blair yelled. “We’ll land as close as we can to the skywalk.”

It was a rough ride, but finally, the X8 touched down. Callie grabbed her CXM and rose. Lachlan opened the door and the team all leaped out.

Lachlan opened a small case and activated a small drone. The machine whizzed into the air, rocking against the wind. It would give Brooks an eye in the sky.

“Go,” Lachlan roared over the howl of the wind.

They jogged toward the angular, red entrance building. As they got closer, Callie heard the screams of the panicked people on the skywalk.

“You need to get the people off the structure.” Brooks voice came through their earpieces clearly. “The skywalk was built tough, to withstand a magnitude 8.0 earthquake. But the winds are targeting it and I’m running some of my experimental storm mapping software. The winds are increasing.”

Tears pricked at Callie’s eyes and she pulled her goggles on to protect them from the wind. She saw the others do the same.

“Any sign of Holder?” Lachlan asked.

Brooks cursed. “Hang on. My drone is having a hard time with the wind. I’ll have to pull back a bit.” A pause. “From what I can tell from the wind patterns, Holder is several hundred feet east of your location.”

Callie’s lip curled. The woman was staying safe while she wreaked havoc and killed innocent people. Bitch.

Lachlan stopped. “Blair and I will go after Holder. The rest of you get the people off the skywalk.”

The team divided and Callie stayed close to Smith’s big body, letting him block the wind.

They raced past the entrance building. Ahead, the skywalk was a perfect horseshoe shape. They paused at the edge, the wind so strong that Callie could barely hold her position. She gripped the railing and stepped out onto the glass.

“Axel and I will go around the other side,” Seth said. “Smith, Callie, you clear this half of the walkway.”

Callie and Smith walked slowly onto the skywalk. Smith’s jaw was locked tight, his gaze on the first group of huddled people only feet away from them. They were crouched down, pressed against the railing.

“Come on!” Callie waved a hand at them.

One man rose and staggered toward her. With Smith’s help, they got the four people clear.

“Get into the main building,” she yelled.

Turning, she saw the next group farther along the walkway. She and Smith fought their way against the wind.

All of a sudden, there was a groan of metal. The walkway started to twist and buckle beneath their feet.

Oh, shit. Callie grabbed the railing. When she glanced back, she saw the walkway start to pull away from the edge of the cliff.

Shit, shit, shit. “Move it, Smith!”

They hustled to the next group. Smith lifted a sobbing woman into his arms and led the tourists back toward the cliff.

Ahead, Callie spotted a man and a teenage girl crouched down on the glass.

The walkway bucked and Callie dropped to her knees. She pressed her hands to the glass and for a second, she was looking straight down through the clear glass. She had a perfect view of the rocky slopes and the canyon floor below. Far, far below.

Swallowing, she started crawling across the glass.

The walkway dropped and tilted a little to the side. Screams filled the air and her stomach rolled.

The man was frantically trying to help the girl to a safer spot.

“Come to me,” Callie yelled. But her words were snatched away by the worsening wind.

Suddenly, the walkway twisted more and the man slipped.

“Dad!” the girl cried.

The man slid over the edge. Soundlessly, his arms flailing, the man fell off the skywalk.

No. Callie saw the girl scream and quickly hurried toward her. She threw an arm around the panting girl who was staring into the canyon, her face a mask of horror.

And in her head, Callie saw Bec. Her own body froze, her muscles refusing to move.

“Callie.” Brooks’ voice. “You need to get off the skywalk. Get that girl to safety.”

There was such steady belief in his voice.

“Hey, I’m Callie.” She forced the girl to look at her.

“My dad.”

“I know, but we need to focus on getting off this bridge.”

“I’m scared,” the girl said.

“Me too, but we’ll do this together.” The girl was probably fifteen. She didn’t look like Bec—she had a round face, green eyes, and brown hair, but she had that same sweet innocence Bec had possessed.

Callie wasn’t going to let this girl die here. “What’s your name?”

“Lizzie.”

“Okay, Lizzie, follow me and let’s get off this thing.”

The firm tone of Callie’s voice seemed to snap the girl into motion. Together, they started crawling.

They hadn’t gone far when the walkway dropped a foot. Lizzie screamed.

“Keep going,” Callie urged.

They kept crawling along the twisted walkway. She was acutely aware of the drop off just inches away from them.

A huge gust of wind hit them, sliding them across the glass.

Callie’s heart leaped into her throat and she heard Lizzie cry out. Callie clamped her arms and legs against the glass, pressing Lizzie down flat.

They were pinned there. If they moved, the wind would push them right off the side.

“Callie, the underside of the walkway has strong metal beams.” Brooks’ firm voice in her ear. “Climb underneath and you’ll have more to hold onto.”

Shit, he wanted them to climb under the skywalk. Her pulse spiked.

“You’ll be more protected from the gusts,” he said. “You can do this, Callie.”

Lizzie pushed closer. “Who’s talking to you?”

“My guardian angel. He’s always looking out for me.” And he was. He always had. “We need to climb under the walkway.”

The girl swallowed, her eyes wide. Then she nodded.

“Good girl.” Urging Lizzie along, they eased over the side. Callie grasped a thick metal beam and helped the teen down. The wind was blocked by the bulk of the walkway and for a second, they got a reprieve from the gusts.

Callie released a breath. Sometimes, you had to take a chance. Sometimes, you had to risk it all in order to get to something better.

“Get to the edge,” Brooks urged.

“Climb along the beam, Lizzie.”

Together, they moved, hand over hand, pressing their feet to the beam. A huge roar of wind hit, making the skywalk shudder. It rocked wildly and Lizzie whimpered.

“Keep going,” Callie said. “You’ve got this.”

She could see they were getting closer to the cliff.

“Almost there,” Brooks said. “Smith and Seth are waiting for you.”

Moments later, the men reached down. Callie pushed Lizzie up and Smith pulled the girl up and onto land. Seth held out a hand and Callie clasped it.

They’d barely straightened when the wind died away. She saw Axel striding toward them, his gaze on the clouds that were starting to disperse.

“Lizzie!” A woman with Lizzie’s green eyes raced toward the girl.

“Mom. God, Mom. Dad, he, he…”

The woman engulfed the girl, sobbing. “I know, sweetie.” The woman’s voice cracked. “I know. Come on, let’s get inside.”

Lizzie lifted her head and caught Callie’s eyes. “Thank you. And thank your guardian angel too.”

Callie nodded. She watched the pair walk away, knowing that grief would descend on them soon. Their lives had just been irrevocably altered. But they had each other, and hopefully that would get them through.

“I’m an angel,” Brooks said. “I like it.”

Callie shook her head. “Did Lachlan get Holder?”

“No.” Brooks tone hardened. “She got away.”

A helicopter rose into the air, arcing away from the canyon.

A squeal of static hit Callie’s earpiece and she winced. She saw Seth, Axel, and Smith grimace and touch their ears.

“You can’t stop me.” Amy Holder’s voice came through their earpieces.

“How the fuck did she hack our comms?” Brooks snapped.

“I understand the capabilities of the shard now. I know what I can achieve with the full wind jewel. I can bring my vision for a better world into being. For the good of all mankind.”

Anger shot through Callie like acid. “You mean for the good of yourself and anyone you deem good enough.”

“I will cleanse the sinners and leave the best behind. The good and righteous will inherit a less crowded and polluted world.”

“Are you listening to yourself?” Callie said. “You’re talking mass murder.”

“My father dreamed of helping the world become a better place!” Holder’s voice was full of fervor. “I only want what’s best for our world.”

Callie met her teammates’ gazes. The woman truly believed what she was saying. That destroying the “less worthy” was what was best for everyone.

She wouldn’t stop. Unless Team 52 stopped her.

“Don’t get in my way,” Holder said. “Nothing and no one can stop me now.”

The feed cut off.

Callie looked up and saw Lachlan and Blair coming down the path. Both had stony faces.

The storm was gone like it had never been…leaving behind the twisted walkway and several families who’d been ripped apart.

Callie looked at her team. “We have to find the wind jewel before she does.” Callie wasn’t going to let this woman leave more families broken and bleeding.

Axel scowled. “And if we don’t, we’re all fucked, and not in the fun way.”

BROOKS GUZZLED ANOTHER ENERGY DRINK. He was buzzed, the caffeine overload making him jittery. But it was the fuel he needed.

He had to break into these encrypted Windvale files. They needed to shut Amy Holder down.

The team was headed back to base and the destruction at the Grand Canyon Skywalk was all over the news.

He wanted to see Callie in the flesh. He knew she was okay, but something in him wouldn’t settle until he could see her, touch her.

Dragging in a breath, he tapped on his computer. “Come on. Give it up.”

“Bet you talk to all the girls like that.”

He swiveled around and saw Callie standing there. Her hair was a bit windblown, but other than that, she looked her usual, beautiful self.

He rose, strode over to her, and swept her into his arms.

As they kissed, she made a humming sound.

“You are a Grade A kisser, Brooks Jameson.”

“Happy you’re back.” He pressed his cheek to her hair.

“Thanks for the help out there.”

“You had it covered, and that girl is alive thanks to you.”

Callie snuggled into him. “We make a pretty good team.”

He stared down into her eyes. “Yeah, we do.”

“I brought you something.” She whipped a small package out of her pocket.

His face lit up. “My favorite.” He had a severe weakness for toffee.

“I’d been saving it in case I needed to bribe you, but I figured you deserved it.”

Brooks tore it open and popped a piece in his mouth. “Mmm, sweet.” He let his gaze drift down her slim body. “Only one thing sweeter. Something I’m getting very addicted to.”

Smiling, she kissed him again, her fingers tracing his face. There was that soft look again in her eyes. A look that made his heart beat and flare with hope.

A chime sounded from his computer and he groaned. “First time in my life that I wish my computer was far, far away right now.”

Callie smiled. “You sure know how to charm a girl, Jameson.”

He turned to the screen and tapped. “Shit.”

“What?”

He grinned at her. “That was a good shit. I cracked the encrypted Windvale files. Can you call the rest of the guys?”

“I’m on it.”

Brooks pored over the information, his gut tightening with every word. Soon, the team and Natalie were crowded into his computer room, leaning against the walls and bench.

“Tell me you’ve found the location of the wind jewel,” Lachlan said.

“Yeah, we need to shut this Holder woman down,” Blair muttered.

Brooks smiled. “I think I know where the wind jewel is.”

Everyone straightened.

“Really?” Seth said.

Brooks nodded. “I found some hidden files in the Windvale data and I’ve just cracked them.” He raised his brows. “They’re private files that belonged to Maxwell Holder.”

Lachlan crossed his arms. “Amy Holder’s father.”

Brooks nodded, then sucked in a breath. “So Maxwell was at the dig in Mexico.”

“We knew that already,” Axel said. “That’s where he found the shards.”

Brooks shook his head. “No, he didn’t. Mexico wasn’t the only dig location he visited. He lied to Amy.”

Lachlan frowned. “He lied to his daughter?”

Brooks nodded.

“Why?”

“It says here that he already had worries about her…ambitions.”

“Hell.” Lachlan set his hands on his hips.

“Even as a young girl, she wanted bigger and better things. She was driven, and had no problem steamrolling over people. Especially people she considered unworthy. It concerned her father.”

“Go on.”

“He didn’t find the shards in Mexico.”

The air in the room thickened.

“Based on an engraving he found at the Mexico dig, he boarded a plane and flew to an island in Micronesia.”

Nat leaned closer. “The legends say that Viracocha took the wind jewel across the ocean.”

Brooks nodded. “Maxwell Holder found the shards on the island of Pohnpei.”

Everyone straightened.

“You’re saying the wind jewel is on that island,” Lachlan said.

“Yes,” Brooks said.

Seth leaned against the counter. “Even a small island is a big place to search for a tiny jewel.”

Natalie let out a gasp, startling them all. “I can narrow it down! I know where the jewel is.”

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

Natalie’s face glowed with excitement. She reached forward and snatched Brooks’ tablet out of his hands.

“Hey,” he complained.

Callie watched Nat’s polished nails tap on the screen. The archeologist looked up. “On the island of Pohnpei are old ruins.”

Axel frowned. “On an island in the Pacific?”

Nat nodded. “They’re made of a heavy basalt rock, and built on a coral reef in a lagoon on the island’s eastern coast. It’s made of several artificial islands and a network of canals. It’s been called the Venice of the Pacific.”

Pictures appeared on the screen.

Callie gasped. The ruins were made of a deep-black rock, and looked incredible. The slabs of rock were stacked distinctively, forming towers and structures.

“Say hello to the ruins of Nan Madol,” Nat said. “The city was the capital of the Saudeleur Dynasty until the 1600s. Local stories say that the Saudeleur came from somewhere else. They weren’t native to the island.”

“When was Nan Madol built?” Brooks asked.

“Not much can be totally verified, but conventional theories say around 1200 AD.” Nat shrugged. “But there was likely human presence there far earlier. What’s most intriguing are the legends of how Nan Madol was created. Legend says that twin sorcerers arrived by canoe, looking for a place to worship their god.” She smiled. “Their thunder god.”

Callie inhaled sharply.

Nat held up a hand. “And the legend goes on to talk about how the brothers built Nan Madol with the help of a flying dragon.”

“Or perhaps a feathered serpent,” Brooks murmured.

“We need to search Nan Madol.” Lachlan stared at the screen. “Brooks, do we know where Amy Holder is now?”

Brooks shook his head. “We assumed she returned to Phoenix, but no one’s seen her. I’m monitoring commercial flights and private charters in her name or the name of the Windvale Church. Nothing’s popped. Her last public appearance was the press conference she did denouncing the break-in at her headquarters, claiming evil thieves are out to derail all her charitable work.”

Blair rolled her bi-colored eyes.

“But that was before the incident at the Grand Canyon.”

“So, she doesn’t know about Nan Madol?” Lachlan said.

“I can’t answer that,” Brooks said. “Her father’s encrypted files were well-hidden, but I can’t guarantee that she hasn’t found them and hacked into them.”

“If she knows about the island, wouldn’t she have been there before?” Blair said.

“I can’t find any records of her being on Pohnpei,” Brooks said.

Lachlan looked at the images of the ruins. “Looks like we’re going to visit a tropical island.”

“Yes.” Axel smiled. “No snow, desert, or jungle.” He grinned at Callie. “Got a bikini, Callie?”

“I do. A tiny, little red one…that I won’t be bringing.”

Axel groaned. Then he caught Brooks’ eye and winked.

Brooks glared back, then turned to Lachlan. “I’m coming.”

Callie frowned. Suddenly a lead ball had appeared in her stomach. “You got shot last time you came with us.”

“This all started with me,” Brooks said. “I want to see it through, and not from the computer room.”

She bristled. “You know this could turn dangerous.” Everyone’s heads swung her way.

“I’m willing to risk it.” Everyone’s heads turned back to Brooks. “Besides, you’ll need my help. These ruins are a big place to find a tiny jewel. I can help—”

“No.” Images of him being shot, blood streaking down the side of his head, made her gut cramp.

“I need to do this, Callie.”

His tone burrowed into her heart. Dammit.

Lachlan cleared his throat. “We need Brooks out there. He’s right. We’re looking for a fucking needle in a haystack.”

When Callie opened her mouth, their team leader held up a hand.

“I understand your concerns. I’ve been there, so believe me, I understand.”

Callie’s throat tightened. Lachlan’s woman, Rowan, had been in a dangerous situation before they’d saved her.

“Brooks has training, and as far as we’re aware, Holder may not even know about Nan Madol. Whatever happens, we’ll be with him.”

Callie bit her lip and nodded. This wasn’t a battle she could win, but that didn’t mean she had to like it.

“Okay, let’s get prepped,” Lachlan said.

Brooks stepped closer. “Cal—”

“I need to get ready.” She swiveled and walked out.

The next few hours were a blur of activity. They got gear and weapons loaded in the jet-copter, and the aircraft was fueled up. Everyone was wearing body armor.

Brooks strode toward the X8, a bulging backpack on his shoulder. She guessed it was full of his computer gear.

He caught her gaze and she looked away.

Once they were aboard, she felt him looking at her, but Callie kept her distance. Her insides were still twisted in knots. He was running headfirst into danger, putting himself at risk.

In her head, she kept seeing the man shooting Brooks back at the Windvale Church and it made her chest as tight as a rock.

They flew to Hawaii, and, after a refuel, aimed straight for Pohnpei.

The team napped, checked their gear, played cards. They were all practiced at whiling away the hours on the way to a mission, or dropping off to sleep quickly.

Callie reclined her seat and dozed. But it wasn’t a great sleep, plagued by nightmares of pouring rain, blood, and her shouting for Brooks.

When she woke, Brooks sat in front of her, his legs resting on either side of hers. He didn’t say anything, just looked at her with those warm, sexy eyes behind the dark frames of his glasses.

“I learned something new about you,” he said.

She didn’t respond.

“You hold a mean grudge.”

She sighed.

“Still mad?” he asked

“I’m not mad, I’m worried.”

He squeezed her knee. “I know.” His thumb rubbed along her sensitive skin. “I’ll be careful. I worry when you guys are out on the mission, but I trust you to do your thing.”

“I trust you, Brooks. I don’t trust the bad guys.”

“I’m hoping Holder is locked up in her church plotting and not in Micronesia.”

She touched her hand on top of his. “We have no idea where she is. Things go wrong all the time on missions, no matter how prepped we are.”

“I wish I could kiss you right now,” he whispered.

“Me too.” She gave in to the warmth and longing inside her. She shifted closer, her lips brushing his ear. “I’d straddle your lap and—”

“Hey, keep the sexy talk down,” Axel muttered from the seat in front of them.

Callie rolled her eyes and Brooks grinned.

A few more hours passed, and the sun came up.

“Destination in view,” Blair called out. “Starting our descent.”

With Brooks leaning beside her, Callie looked out the window. There was blue water as far as she could see.

“There.” Brooks pointed.

Callie saw the island. It looked like a tropical storm was just clearing, the dark clouds slowly lifting to show the green below. Pohnpei was roughly circular, and its hills were covered in thick rainforest. It wasn’t huge, maybe fifteen miles across. It was also ringed by coral reefs.

They swooped in lower and Brooks leaned closer. “See the ruins?”

Wow. They were amazing. From the air, it was easy to make out the straight lines and man-made shapes formed on a lagoon at the eastern edge of the island.

They swept over the dark ruins and touched down on a pretty curve of a beach.

Right. Time to find a powerful piece of ancient technology and keep Brooks safe.

THEY ENTERED THE RUINS.

The site was overgrown by beach vegetation, but it didn’t detract, only added to the awe-inspiring look of them.

The place was quiet and deserted. Some tourists did occasionally visit the ruins, but Pohnpei was a remote island, so it was rarely overrun.

Brooks felt like he was stepping into a movie set. The large, moss-covered rocks were stacked high and the megalithic construction was pretty amazing.

“Nat thinks the jewel would probably be in the largest temple or structure,” Blair said.

“I’d hide it where it wasn’t obvious,” Seth said.

“That’s because you’re a distrusting former CIA agent.”

Brooks looked at his tablet. “I actually found an old conspiracy theory about Nan Madol.”

The team all stopped and looked back at him.

“Pohnpei was occupied by the Japanese during the war. It’s said they found coffins, or caskets, either made of platinum or filled with platinum in the ruins. I couldn’t find any reliable sources about it, so it probably wasn’t true.”

“Rumors usually come from somewhere,” Callie said.

“A metallic container would make a good resting place for a dangerous artifact,” Lachlan mused.

“What if Maxwell Holder found the jewel?” Brooks said. “It might not even be here anymore.”

“Or it was buried,” Smith said. “To keep it safe.”

“For now, let’s take a look around,” Lachlan ordered. “If you spot anything of interest, let us know.”

Brooks moved carefully through the black rock structures. He studied the canals running through the site. “I can see why they call it the Venice of the Pacific.”

“It’s beautiful,” Callie said. “Makes me miss home.”

“Next vacation, you, me, and a Hawaiian beach. And that red bikini.”

She hesitated, then smiled. “Deal.”

“I heard that,” said a disgruntled Axel from nearby.

“Get your own woman,” Brooks said.

“Don’t want one.”

They picked through the ruins, looking in each of the temple structures.

“What do you think?” Brooks asked Callie.

Her brow creased. “I think we could be here weeks, or months.”

She wandered away, and Brooks watched her duck into another structure.

He moved to the edge of the site, and stared at the masses of tropical trees and vines. He stopped to breathe in the pungent scent of rotting leaves and salt air. He could imagine Nan Madol as a bustling city, people going about their daily business, all the while protecting a powerful artifact.

Then he spotted something.

Shitballs. He froze. There was a large hole at the base of one structure, rimmed by freshly turned earth.

He touched his ear. “Lachlan, I found something.”

It didn’t take the others long to reach him. They all stood at the edge of the excavation and Smith cursed.

Someone had been digging here. Recently.

Lachlan jumped into the hole, his boots splashing in the inch of water in the bottom. He crouched, studying it, then he straightened. “Looks like something exploded out of here.”

There was dirt scattered around, like it had been flung outward.

“Boot marks in the mud over this way.” Blair was looking at the ground, one hand on her hip.

A crack of thunder echoed overhead and Brooks looked up. Clouds were forming directly above them.

The team tensed as one unit.

“Natural?” Smith asked with a frown.

“Could Holder really have gotten here before us and found the jewel?” Blair said.

The clouds moved fast, growing thicker and blacker.

“Everyone on alert.” Lachlan leaped out of the hole and whipped his rifle off his shoulder. “Let’s get back to the X8.”

They all moved fast across the ruins. Brooks lifted his tablet to check his storm program. Because he wasn’t watching where he was going, he almost tripped.

“Brooks.” Callie grabbed his arm. “Focus.”

“I’m checking the storm’s patterns.” He glanced at the image and swallowed a curse. “That—” he jabbed a finger at the boiling clouds “—is not natural.”

A bolt of lightning speared down and hit one of the temples. Rock exploded, chunks raining down on them.

“Fuck.” Brooks ducked, fumbling his tablet.

Callie grabbed his arm. “We have to move.”

Team 52 raced across the ruins, picking up speed. They splashed through puddles and leaped over rock.

More lightning hit, strikes dropping down all around them.

“Faster,” Lachlan roared.

Gunfire broke out, bullets slamming into the structures all around them.

Everyone dropped down. Team 52 whipped their weapons up, turning to return fire. Brooks glanced over his shoulder, trying to see where the gunfire was coming from.

He spotted a small form on top of one temple. With a familiar blonde head.

“It’s Holder,” he yelled.

“Get to the jet-copter,” Lachlan shouted.

Smith tossed something into the air, then another one. A stun grenade hit, followed by a smoke grenade.

Team 52 jumped up and ran. Bullets whizzed close by.

Brooks tripped. He hit the rocks hard. Ouch.

Then Callie was there, helping him up. She pivoted, aimed her rifle, and fired.

Beside them, Smith’s body jerked, and he grunted.

“Smith, you hit?” Callie called out.

“Grazed my arm. I’m okay.”

They kept running, and finally, Brooks spotted the X8.

The team hit the sand and sprinted. They dived into the jet-copter, Seth and Blair racing into the cockpit.

“Fuck!” Blair bit out.

“What?” Lachlan yelled.

“Someone’s torn up the controls.”

Brooks sucked in a breath. They were stuck here. He saw his palms were bleeding from where he’d hit the rock, and wiped them on his thighs.

Axel looked out the side window. “The storm’s easing.”

Brooks looked and saw the clouds were dissipating.

A second later, a helo rose up out of the trees, arrowing overhead and into the clearing sky.

It had come from the other side of the ruins.

“Holder’s getting away.” Lachlan’s voice was grim.

“And we’re trapped here.” Blair slapped her hands against the X8’s control console.

“Does she have the wind jewel?” Callie said. “How the hell did she get here?”

Lachlan rose and leaped out of the X8. “I don’t know, but I want some answers.” He strode back toward the ruins.

Brooks caught Callie’s gaze, then they, and the rest of the team, hurried after Lachlan.

The team leader moved to one of the bodies lying in the ruins. He kicked the man over, but the goon was clearly dead.

A groan came from close by.

Lachlan’s head whipped up. They skirted a tower of rocks and Brooks spotted one of Holder’s goons on the ground, trying to drag himself away.

Crouching, Lachlan drew his Glock and aimed it at the man’s head. “Stop.”

The goon froze. His face was streaked with dirt and blood.

“How did Holder get here?” Lachlan demanded.

“I’m just muscle, I don’t—”

Lachlan shoved the barrel of his gun to the man’s temple. “You do not want to test me today.”

The man swallowed. “She knew about the island. Knew her father had found the damn jewel shards here.” The man pulled in a breath. “She’s searched the ruins before, but could never find the wind jewel.”

“What changed?”

“Testing the shards. One of her people activated one by mistake.”

Brooks raised a brow. That had to be Brandon Mayfield.

“When that happened, it made the second shard activate as well. Caused some damage at her fucking warehouse of a church.”

Things clicked in Brooks’ head. “Then after she tested the second shard at the Grand Canyon, she came here to see if it might activate the wind jewel as well.”

“Yeah. Caused a big fucking storm here and the ground exploded under one of the ruins. She found the jewel.”

Lachlan shifted and slammed the butt of his Glock into the man’s head, knocking him out cold.

“We need to get back to base,” Lachlan said. “Now.”

“I might be able to rig something in the X8.” Brooks lifted his tablet. “Let me take a look at it.”

“Your hands first,” Callie said. “You can’t do anything with them bleeding like that.”

He saw the way she looked at his hands, and his chest tightened. “Smith should go first, he got shot.”

“Just a graze,” Smith said.

“That didn’t work for me.”

“It’s his arm, not his head,” Callie shot back.

“Hello, we need to get this aircraft operational,” Seth called out.

“Patch Brooks up first,” Lachlan ordered. “Then Brooks, get us out of here.”

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

The X8 was closing in on Las Vegas.

The atmosphere in the aircraft was tense. Callie leaned back in her seat, glancing through at Seth and Blair in the cockpit. The pair were silent.

Lachlan was staring out the window, Axel was tapping one foot against the floor, and Smith looked like he was asleep, but she knew he wasn’t. Brooks sat beside her, bent over his tablet.

He’d gotten the X8 operational, but they were all well aware they were two hours behind Amy Holder, even with a mid-air refuel over Hawaii.

“Let me check those hands,” she said.

Brooks had gotten used to her bugging him about the scratches on his hands during the flight home. He lifted them and she took the bandages off. He had some nasty grazes, but no sign of infection.

“They sting like a—” he coughed “—bee.”

“I’ve heard you swear before.” Callie smiled. Her sexy geek.

Hers. Her heart stuttered. Is that what she wanted? A man in her life? Someone she cared about so much that losing him would tear her apart?

She grabbed clean bandages from her kit and wrapped his hands again. Then she pressed a light kiss over the white gauze.

When she looked up, she saw a warm look in his eyes.

Callie cleared her throat. “Do you think Holder is back?”

Brooks’ face changed, any sign of happiness draining away. “Yeah. Nothing showing up on the news channels.”

Worry laced his voice. They were all worried. Amy Holder had a powerful artifact, and Callie wondered what the hell the unhinged woman had planned.

How many innocents would be hurt before this was over?

Brooks’ tablet chimed, and he slid a finger across the screen. Nat’s face appeared, lines of stress bracketing her mouth.

“Guys,” Nat said.

The others rose, crowding around.

“Nat?” Axel’s brows drew together. “What’s wrong?”

“Reports are just starting to come in.” The archeologist sucked in a breath. “There’s a huge storm brewing over Las Vegas. Huge.”

Brooks tapped again and other pictures filled the tablet screen. Black clouds lit with lightning were perched over the Strip.

Hell.

“Las Vegas,” Callie murmured. “She’s targeting our base of operations.”

“Sin City,” Brooks added. “Remember, she spouted all that garbage about wanting to ‘cleanse’ sinners from the world.”

Lachlan muttered a curse. “We’re about an hour out, Nat.”

“Okay. Hurry.”

“Nat?” Axel leaned closer. “You at the base?”

Natalie shook her head. “No, I’m at the Bunker with Kinsey.”

A muscle ticked in Axel’s jaw and Callie got the impression he’d prefer the women were deep underground at Area 52.

“You tell Kinsey to stay put,” Smith growled.

“You both stay there,” Axel said. “No heroics.”

Nat nodded.

“I mean it, Natalie.”

“We’ll do what we need to do. See you soon.”

The call ended and Axel muttered a curse. The remainder of the trip was taut, everyone on edge.

Smith refused to sit down, pacing at the back of the jet-copter, holding his CXM in his hand. The man was over-the-top protective of Kinsey, and he was worried.

“Holy fuck,” Blair said from the cockpit.

Callie pushed up, elbowing past Axel, and followed Lachlan into the cockpit.

The glow of Las Vegas spread along the horizon through the viewscreen. Usually, it was a sparkling, inviting sight.

Now, black, churning clouds hung over the city. They were huge, billowing high into the sky. As Callie watched, several lightning strikes hit the ground below.

Wind battered the X8 and they all jolted, grabbing on to whatever they could to keep their balance. Seth muttered a curse and his hands moved quickly over the controls.

Brooks leaned against the back of Blair’s seat, streaming news reports on his tablet. His face tightened. “Casualties have been reported.”

A reporter appeared on the screen, brown hair blowing around her face. “This is a freak storm unlike anything Las Vegas has ever experienced before.” The woman tried to capture her flyaway hair. Suddenly, her attention was pulled away from the camera, and her entire face lit with horror. “Oh my God, the Eiffel Tower at the Paris Casino is collapsing!”

The camera bobbed and turned. Callie’s mouth dropped open. She watched as the replica Eiffel Tower crashed down onto the Strip, crushing several cars as it fell.

“Holy shit.” Callie shook her head.

A small, thin tornado touched down, tearing along the sidewalk.

Lachlan’s jaw went tight. “Brooks, we need to find the jewel.”

They moved into the back of the X8. Brooks dropped into a seat, nodding his head. He switched to a different program.

“I’ve been fine-tuning my storm-mapping program on the flight.”

Callie smiled. Of course, he had.

“I think I can predict some of the worst strikes. And it can help me find the epicenter, the eye of the storm.”

“And that’s where Holder will be with the jewel,” Lachlan said.

Brooks nodded. “Let me analyze this data.”

It looked like a crazy map filled with colors to Callie. How he could pick anything out of it was beyond her.

He muttered, finger swiping on the screen. “Got it!” He looked up with a grin. “She’s at the Stratosphere Tower.”

Lachlan nodded. “Everyone, get prepped. Let’s go save our city.”

THEY WERE COMING in to land at McCarran Airport, and the ride was rough. The X8 rocked from side to side.

Shit, the winds were horrendous. Brooks gripped the arms of his chair.

“All flights have been grounded,” Blair called back.

Brooks braced a hand against the wall. Oh, crap.

“Blair, Seth, get us down now,” Lachlan said.

A huge gust of wind caught the aircraft and jerked them sideways. Callie slammed into Brooks, and he wrapped an arm around her.

“I think I’m gonna puke,” Axel grumbled.

“I thought Delta badasses don’t puke,” Brooks said.

“They do when they’re in a blender.”

There were more bumps, and then finally—thank the Lord—the X8’s skids touched tarmac.

“Thank fuck,” Smith muttered.

Lachlan tore the side door open and wind howled inside. Brooks stared at the welcoming sight of the Bunker. It’s thick, ugly, concrete walls had never looked so good.

Nat and Kinsey were waving from the door.

When Brooks’ boots hit the ground, he doubled over against the wind and ran for the building. Callie jogged beside him.

When they got inside, Seth slammed the door closed. Everyone was hugging, except Smith, who was kissing the hell out of Kinsey.

“Kinse and I have been helping to coordinate the evacuation,” Natalie said.

“MacKade?” Blair asked, a thread of worry in her husky voice.

“He’s been in touch,” Kinsey said. “Last time we spoke, he was at police headquarters.”

Blair bit her lip. “He won’t stay there. If there are people in trouble, he’ll go to help.” Pride warred with concern in her tone.

“Rowan’s in the basement at the university,” Kinsey said quietly, looking at Lachlan.

The team leader’s tense shoulders relaxed.

Kinsey looked at Seth. “And January went to the base with Ty.”

“Thank God.” Seth ran a hand over his head. “Thanks, Kinsey.”

“Brooks, your family said to tell you they’re safe,” Nat said. “At your brother’s place down south.”

Brooks felt a small spurt of relief. “Thanks.”

“Holder and the wind jewel are at the Stratosphere,” Lachlan said.

Natalie gasped. “There’s no way to get there. Mini-tornadoes and lightning strikes are tearing up Las Vegas Boulevard. It’s hell on Earth.”

“We’ll get there,” Lachlan said grimly.

The team ran for the lockers, grabbing more ammunition and checking their weapons.

Brooks slid a Kevlar vest on.

“What are you doing?” Callie asked sharply.

“I need to come, Cal. Comms aren’t guaranteed in weather like this, and if Holder moves, you need me to track her.”

Callie shuddered. “If you get hurt—”

He cupped her cheek. “You’ll be with me. We have to do this to save the city and its people. There are men, women, and children out there who need us.”

“Damn you for being so brave.”

He smiled at her. “I think the same thing about you every day.”

They loaded into the SUVs, and Brooks sat in the passenger seat with his tablet on his lap. Axel was behind the wheel, with Callie in the back seat. The others were in the SUV ahead of them.

“The center of the storm is still above the Stratosphere,” Brooks said.

Axel sped down the road flanking the airport. Most cars were pulled over, not daring to drive in the bad weather.

Moments later, they tore out onto Las Vegas Boulevard with a screech of tires.

“Madre de Dios,” Axle murmured.

The storm looked demonic, clouds boiling and twisting overhead. Red lightning spiked through the clouds. For some reason, it made Brooks think of the center of a volcano.

They passed the Welcome to Las Vegas sign, just as it was ripped free of the ground. It flew wildly into the air, and Brooks gritted his teeth.

Ahead, a small sedan was driving slowly. They watched as it was pushed sideways by the wind and tipped off the road.

Axel cursed, swerving around it.

Thankfully their bulletproof SUVs weighed a lot. Brooks looked at his tablet and frowned.

“Wait! Something’s happening.” He stared at the storm data, trying to make sense of it. “Shit.”

“What?” Callie leaned forward from the backseat.

“Larger tornadoes are touching down. Everywhere.”

They all looked up, and through the windshield, they saw the funnels forming, coming down out of the clouds. A dozen hit the ground, black and twisting.

Ahead, Lachlan’s SUV swerved.

Axel followed, jerking the wheel from side to side as they dodged the funnels. Brooks braced his hand on the roof.

One of the tornadoes was growing bigger and bigger. It was picking up debris from all around.

“Oh, God,” Callie breathed. “Look at that.”

The huge funnel hit the pyramid at the Luxor Casino, tearing half of it apart.

“Fuck me,” Axel said.

They continued to speed down the Strip, dodging parked cars and overturned debris. Then, the Stratosphere appeared out of the gloom. Its circular top was lost in the clouds, but he could see the lower half of the highest structure in Las Vegas perfectly fine.

Holder was in there, somewhere, wreaking havoc and hurting innocent people.

She had to be stopped.

The two SUVs screeched to a stop at the front of the Stratosphere. People were running out of the casino and down the sidewalk.

Team 52 slid out, CXMs held up.

“Let’s get inside and get to the top,” Lachlan ordered.

They headed for the entrance.

Gunfire broke out.

With curses, everyone ducked for cover. Brooks’ knees hit the concrete, and he heard bullets hit the ground way too close to them.

“They’re on the rooftop,” Lachlan called out.

Brooks swiveled his head. He couldn’t see anyone, but he guessed there was a team of snipers somewhere up there. They were firing steadily, keeping Team 52 pinned down.

“We need to get up there,” Blair said.

“Where are they exactly?” Brooks asked.

She pointed.

There. He could make out the vague shadows of some people on the roof—right near a giant screen that was advertising the casino and its attractions.

“Give me a sec.” He swiped at his tablet screen.

“Brooks—” Lachlan started.

“Hang on.”

“Give him a minute.” Callie lifted her rifle and returned fire.

Brooks hacked into the Stratosphere’s computer system. Easy-peasy. Their cyber security was appalling. “I’ve got it.”

“Got what?” Lachlan growled.

Brooks had the controls for the giant screen. He tapped and the screen started blinking on and off. Wild patterns of light flickered on the screen.

Stunned, the snipers stop firing.

“They’ll be blinded.” Callie grinned at Brooks. “Genius.”

“Move,” Lachlan yelled.

The team ran into the base of the Stratosphere Tower.

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

“She’ll be at the top,” Brooks said as they jogged across the lobby of the Stratosphere.

Lachlan nodded, his CXM up and aimed. “We’ll check—”

Suddenly, Callie heard the familiar sound of something rattling along the floor. “Grenade!”

She swiveled and dived on Brooks. She hit him and they both went down.

Bang.

Smoke filled the air, followed by the sound of gunfire.

Callie looked over her shoulder and saw forms running through the smoke.

“Incoming,” Lachlan yelled.

“Stay down,” she warned Brooks.

She got off a few rounds before a mask-covered man appeared. Callie jumped up, kicking him.

He staggered, regained his balance, and rushed her. She moved into the fight, aiming her blows for maximum effect. She never, ever forgot that despite her training, she was smaller, and not as strong as most of her opponents. That always meant she had to be smarter and faster. She punched the man in the kidney, followed with another hard kick, and then a chop to his neck.

The man groaned and dropped to his knees. She hit him again, and he flopped forward.

“You are badass, baby,” Brooks said.

Shaking her head, she smiled at him. She could hear the others still fighting the rest of the attackers, but the gunfire had stopped.

The smoke dissipated, and she saw the team had almost all the attackers down. She watched Axel land an impressive front kick, his attacker sliding across the floor.

Dammit, they needed to get to Holder.

As Blair finished zip tying all the downed attackers, the rest of them jogged to the bank of elevators.

Callie groaned. “They’re all out. It’s a long way to the top of the Stratosphere by the stairs.”

Lachlan scowled.

Brooks whipped out his tablet. “I might be able to…” The lights on one elevator panel flared to life.

Axel slapped Brooks on the back. “Nice.”

“It’ll only climb to halfway, I can’t seem to activate the rest of it,” Brooks said. “We’ll need to take the stairs from there.”

“It’ll do.” Lachlan stabbed at the button.

They all packed into the elevator, and soon were zooming upward.

But they hadn’t gone far, when the elevator jerked to a violent stop. Curses filled the air, and Callie slammed into the wall.

Brooks tapped his tablet again. “Shit. Someone locked me out.”

Lachlan nudged Smith. The big man immediately went down on one knee and cupped his hands together. Lachlan stepped on Smith’s palms, and Smith boosted the other man up. Lachlan reached up to the ceiling of the elevator car, ripped down a decorative panel, and then started opening the hatch he’d uncovered.

Then he pulled himself out the top of the car in one smooth move. “Let’s go.”

One by one, they climbed up, Smith helping Brooks to get up on top of the car. Callie followed, letting Lachlan haul her up. They stood balanced on top of the car.

She looked up and saw a set of doors two feet above them.

Lachlan shifted, pulled himself up to the doors, then pried them open wide enough for his body to fit. Once he was through, he turned and held out his prosthetic hand.

He gripped Blair’s hand and jerked her up. Then Axel.

Suddenly, the elevator car dropped a foot.

Callie threw her arms out for balance, and Smith cursed. Brooks went down on one knee, almost toppling over.

Callie’s heart stopped.

“I’m okay,” he said.

Lachlan reached out and grabbed Callie’s hand. She quickly let him pull her up.

Brooks’ tablet pinged. “Uh-oh.” He looked up. “They’ve taken over control of the elevator again.”

“Move it,” Lachlan said.

Smith jumped, grabbing the edge of the doorway, right beside Callie’s feet.

“Brooks,” Callie called out. “Hurry.” Panic was like acid in her veins.

He was already moving, reaching for Lachlan’s hand, when she heard the grind of machinery.

Shit. Shit. Shit.

Brooks slapped his palm in Lachlan’s, just as the elevator dropped away.

Brooks made a choked sound, and suddenly he was dangling over the empty elevator shaft.

Smith hauled himself up, turned and grabbed Brooks’ collar. Together, Lachlan and Smith hauled him in.

“Fuck.” Callie’s heart was beating like a drum on speed. She shoved the other men out of the way and gripped the front of Brooks’ shirt. Then she hauled him in close and kissed him—hard, deep, desperate.

He clamped an arm around her and squeezed. When she broke the kiss, he rubbed his nose against hers. “I’m okay.”

“Lucky fuck,” Axel said.

Brooks’ tablet pinged again and he lifted it up. She watched the color drain from his face.

“Several tornado funnels have joined together into a fucking huge mega tornado.” He looked up. “It’s slow moving, but it’s heading straight toward the Las Vegas Convention Center.” He looked up. “There’s some family convention on. The place is packed with thousands of kids.”

The team all stiffened.

“Contact Nat and Kinsey,” Lachlan said. “Tell them to evacuate the convention center.”

Brooks swiped on the screen. “I can’t get through. No comms.”

“Fuck.” Lachlan punched his prosthetic hand into the wall, leaving a large hole.

Callie moved close to Brooks. “Brooks and I will go there. It’s not too far away. We’ll evacuate the kids while you guys stop Holder.”

Lachlan’s intense, gold gaze whipped around to look at her, then Brooks. He nodded. “Do it.”

Callie grabbed Brooks’ hand and tugged him down the hall. She hit the door marked “Stairs” and they started downward.

“Callie, there’s a shitload of bad weather between us and the convention center.”

She met his gaze. “We’ll make it, Brooks.”

They had to.

BROOKS WAS BREATHING hard by the time they hit the bottom of the stairs. They raced across the now empty lobby and out to the SUVs.

The wind tore at his clothes and whipped his hair around, stinging his eyes. It belatedly occurred to him that he needed a haircut.

Halfway to the vehicle, the rain started, pelting down on them in sheets. Brooks and Callie were both soaked in an instant.

Callie climbed into the driver’s seat, and he dived into the passenger seat and slammed the door. She gunned the engine and peered through the windshield, her face tight.

Rain splattered hard, drumming on the roof. Her hands flexed on the wheel.

“Cal?”

She pulled in a deep breath. “I’m okay. Let’s do this.”

They pulled out onto the road. Water was running like rivers down the curbs. There were no other cars driving, and the road was turning into a small lake.

The rain intensified, and he felt the tension throbbing off Callie. He realized that this had to be a nightmare for her, reminding her of the day she’d lost her sister and father.

Damn, he didn’t know what to do to help her. Then he heard her suck in a breath. He looked forward and spotted the huge tornado.

A rock dropped into his gut. It was fucking huge, like something out of a horror movie. His throat went tight.

It was moving slowly, picking up cars and anything else loose in its path.

They had to save those kids.

“Dammit,” Callie cursed.

“What?”

She was staring into the rearview mirror. “We have two cars speeding up behind us.”

Brooks looked back and saw the dark vehicles. Crap. Suddenly, bullets peppered the back window. The glass was bulletproof, but a spider web of cracks appeared.

They both ducked down and Callie sped up.

She was concentrating on dodging abandoned cars and other debris that had been blown into the street. Then she whipped the wheel, turning onto a side street with a screech of tires.

“Here.” She shoved a Glock into his palm.

Brooks juggled his tablet down beside him, then checked the pistol. Then he lowered his window. With the wind pummeling him, he leaned out, aimed, and fired.

One car swerved, sideswiping a parked car. It then pulled back and hit a large pool of water, sending plumes spraying up everywhere.

The other car gunned its engine and sped closer.

“Callie, they’re going to—”

The car rammed into the back of them.

Brooks was tossed forward, and with a curse, slid back inside. “Fuckers.”

“Brooks!” The sound of Nat’s voice made him reach for the tablet. Her beautiful face appeared on the screen, her expression stressed.

“Nat! The others are going after Holder. Callie and I are headed to the convention center.” Callie swerved around some debris and he was tossed to the side. He looked forward, gaze snagging on the huge tornado ahead. “There’s a fucking giant tornado headed toward the convention center. The place is packed full of kids.”

“Oh, God.” Nat muttered a curse worthy of a sailor. “I’ve been busy helping coordinate emergency responders to a school that was hit by lightning strikes. I’ll contact the convention center to warn them and start the evacuation. Stay safe.”

“Nat’s going to try and evacuate the convention center,” he told Callie.

“Good.” Callie wrenched the wheel and they zoomed down another street, rain pelting against the car. Brooks was thrown against his seat.

Then he looked at the tablet and froze.

“The storm’s changing.”

She glanced at him. “What?”

“The tornado is still headed toward the convention center, but the eye of the storm has changed.”

“Where is it?”

“Our location.”

Callie stiffened. Brooks looked back, peering at the car that was still in pursuit. He spotted a blonde head in the passenger seat. Damn.

“Amy Holder is in the car behind us.”

“That bitch is going down,” Callie muttered.

He grinned. “I like it when you’re bloodthirsty.”

That earned him a faint smile.

“Actually, I like everything about you, Callie.”

He saw her mouth drop open, then more bullets hit the back of the SUV. This time, the window shattered.

Callie swerved. “Get down!”

He ducked. The car rammed into them again.

Then their tires skidded on the wet road and they started to slide. Callie fought to get control of the SUV.

“Callie, look out!” Brooks yelled.

A parked truck blocked the road in front of them.

She slammed on the brakes and yanked the wheel. The SUV slid, the rear end sliding sideways.

They rushed closer to the truck and Brooks’ heart lodged in his throat. He threw out a hand, grabbing Callie’s fingers.

Their SUV smashed into the truck and flipped.

Then there was only breaking glass, the sound of ripping metal, and pain.

CHAPTER NINETEEN

Blood was dripping in her eye.

With a groan, Callie swiped it away and tried to clear her throbbing head.

She blinked a few times and opened her eyes. Twisted metal and smashed glass filled her vision. Rain was pelting in through the broken windshield, splashing her face.

For a second, she was back at another crash. The rain, the stench of gasoline and blood, it was all the same, plunging her back in time.

Then she heard someone let out a deep groan of pain.

Brooks.

Struggling with her belt, she managed to unclip it and sit up. The SUV was bent and smashed, but it was right-side up, thankfully.

“Brooks?

“I’m…okay.”

He didn’t sound okay. Throat tight, Callie turned to him.

He was slumped in the seat, covered in blood. Again, her head fogged, and she saw a blood-covered, crying Bec begging for help.

“Callie.”

Brooks’ voice snapped her back to reality.

“Brooks.” She crawled over the cracked center console and sucked in a breath. A huge shard of glass was embedded in his shoulder.

There was a squeal of tires and, when she looked up, she saw Holder’s car screech to a stop beside them.

No. She needed to help Brooks.

“Brooks.” This time her voice was a harsh whisper.

“Cal.” He lifted his arm and handed her the Glock. “Go do your thing.”

She closed a hand around the butt of the pistol. Whatever it took, she’d protect him. She wouldn’t let anyone hurt him anymore.

Swiveling, she elbowed the rest of the broken glass out of the windshield. Then she pulled herself up and pushed out onto the hood.

The rain intensified, but through the gloom, she spotted three armed men heading in their direction.

Oh no, you don’t.

She took aim and fired. Bang.

One went down, while the other two dived for cover. She slithered out the window and crouched beside the ruined SUV. Movement caught her eye and she shifted her weapon.

Bang.

A man’s cry was sucked away by the wind. She didn’t think she’d done more than wing him.

Callie crept around the vehicle, and gunshots cracked through the storm. The assholes were firing at her car. At Brooks.

Screw this. Anger exploded inside her. It twisted with her fear and pain. The image of a bloodied, hurt Brooks made her leap to her feet.

She strode toward where the men were crouched. She kept her weapon up and aimed.

A man rose and saw her, his eyes widening.

Bang.

The headshot took him down. She heard another gunshot and felt a sting across her arm. Ignoring the burn, she pivoted.

A big body tackled her from the side, the heavy weight driving her onto the wet road.

Callie and her attacker skidded on the slick pavement. Then she jammed her elbow up, smacking him in the jaw. Immediately, she rammed her knee up, hitting him between the legs.

She turned into a whirlwind of hits. Her attacker let out a strangled groan, his hold slackening.

With a giant shove, she pushed him off. Then she kicked him and watched him curl up on the ground.

Then she dropped down on top of him and pressed her arm to his neck. She pushed hard, watching his eyes bulge. Her anger still driving her, she didn’t let up. The man choked and finally slumped into unconsciousness.

She slammed the butt of the gun into his head, then snatched up his weapon. She checked it and shoved it in the waistband of her trousers.

Then she rose. Rain continued to pour down on her, and pain was slamming through her body with every beat of her heart. Her left arm was bleeding. That bullet had left a shallow graze, and she couldn’t lift it.

Locking down the pain, she started back to Brooks.

Then she heard footsteps and raised her head.

Amy Holder stepped into view. She had a pistol aimed at Callie.

“It’s over, Holder,” Callie said. “We won’t give up until we stop you.”

The woman shook her head, her rain-drenched hair slick against her skull. “I’ll never give up. This is what I was born to do.”

“Kill innocent people? Destroy the lives of kids?”

Holder shrugged. “The worthy aren’t here, gambling, drinking, and fornicating in Las Vegas. The loss of sinners will make the world a better place.”

“You’re cracked. You don’t get to decide who’s worthy and who’s not.”

“I will finish what I started.” Holder fired.

Callie ducked and when she looked up, she saw Holder run into the construction site beside them. A new casino was being built, and the main building was only about half a dozen floors high and ringed by scaffold. A bright-yellow construction crane loomed overhead.

Shit. Callie wanted to follow her. Wanted to end this.

But Brooks needed her.

Limping, she turned back to the SUV. It was so mangled, and she felt a lump in her stomach. Please be okay, Brooks.

She got to the passenger side and saw him slumped in the seat.

There was so much blood. It covered his neck and his clothes were soaked. The huge shard of glass embedded in his skin mocked her.

He turned his head and lifted a bloodstained hand. “Callie.”

Callie couldn’t fight the memories. She was thrust back into her past, sitting beside another ruined car, rain pelting down on her, a terrified Bec lifting her blood-covered hand to Callie.

FUCK, he hurt. So damn much.

He saw Callie crouched beside him, frozen. She had a streak of blood on her cheek, and her left arm dangled by her side.

But she was alive, thank God.

“Oh, Brooks.” She pulled a knife off her belt, reached over him, and cut his seatbelt off.

Her hands were shaking.

“There’s so much blood.”

Her voice was strangely blank, and he worried she was going into shock. “Hey.”

“The rain. If only it didn’t rain.” Her voice hitched.

Brooks realized that she was trapped in the past. Trapped in a nightmare that she couldn’t break free of.

“Callie, we’re right here. Together.”

“You’re hurt, and I can’t help you.”

“You can. You’re the best damn medic I know.” He put as much steel into his voice as he could.

Large, gray eyes met his. “I couldn’t help them.”

“Because back then, you were a sixteen-year-old girl. Now you’re a fully trained, combat medic.”

She was breathing too fast, close to hyperventilating.

He lifted his hand and cupped her cheek, but damn, it took a lot of energy to move. “You can do this. You are the strongest, most incredible woman I know. You took a tragedy and used it to become something amazing. You gave your dad and your sister’s lives meaning. When there’s danger, you run into it, without hesitation, to save others. Your father and sister would be so damn proud.”

Her gaze locked with his, and he saw something flicker in them.

“They’d want you to let them go, to be free.”

She pressed a hand over his.

“You’re amazing, Cal. It’s no wonder that I love you.”

She jolted.

“Now, patch me up and get me out of this wreck. We’ve got a bad guy—or rather, a bad woman—to catch.”

He watched Callie click back in. Her face hardened, and she pulled out her first aid kit. He watched her morph into the steady combat medic she was.

The first thing she did was give him a painkiller.

Then she stared at his injury. “This is going to hurt.”

“You can kiss it better later,” he said.

She gripped the glass shard and, without any hesitation or warning, pulled it out. He groaned at the pain, but then she was busy, applying pressure and probing the wound.

Nausea rushed into his throat.

“It’s okay, Brooks,” she murmured. “Look at me.”

He did. He’d never tire of looking at her high cheekbones and beautiful gray eyes. He tried to slow his breathing.

She pressed something else to his wound and then started bandaging him.

“How are you doing?” she asked.

He blinked, and realized the pain was fading. “Better.”

“I gave you Ty’s super mix.” She stroked his arm. “But you’ve lost a lot of blood, so you need to take it easy.”

Stepping back, she shoved the bent door out of the way. Then she helped him swing his legs out. He sat up. Everything still hurt, but at least he wasn’t going to pass out.

She leaned in and kissed him. “Thanks.”

“For what?”

“For believing in me. For talking me down.”

“You would have gotten there yourself.”

A wild flash and a loud crack of thunder made them both jolt. The lightning had struck close by, sending sparks showering through the air.

They both looked up.

“Oh, shit,” Brooks said.

Above them, the clouds were churning fast.

“Holder,” Callie said. “She’s making it worse.”

“Where is she?”

Callie jerked her head. “She ran into the construction site.”

Brooks scanned the open floors and scaffold. The tower was only partly constructed. On the top floor, he caught a blur of movement. “There!”

Callie spotted the woman and she tensed, her body almost vibrating.

“Go,” he told her.

She looked back at him. “No, I’m not leaving you here.”

“I’m fine. Go take that woman down.”

Callie hesitated.

“Go,” he said again. “Show her that she messed with the wrong city and the wrong team.”

She gave him a quick kiss. Then she rose, turned, and sprinted into the construction site.

Brooks blew out a breath and gingerly fumbled around. He found his tablet, noting that the screen was cracked. But when he touched it, it flared to life. Thank God. He tried to contact the others.

Come on. He hated that Callie was up there alone, facing off with a woman armed with a terrible, powerful artifact.

Suddenly, there was a burst of static in his ear. Lachlan’s voice.

“Lachlan?”

“Brooks! Where are you guys?”

“We’re about halfway to the convention center. Holder came after us and we crashed.” He rattled off their location.

“Okay, sit tight,” Lachlan said.

“Holder is here. She’s in some half-constructed casino, and Callie’s gone after her.”

“We’re on the way.”

Thank fuck. Brooks looked up, trying to see through the rain. He saw another flash of movement and spotted Callie on the rooftop. She was sneaking up on Holder.

But then the older woman turned.

Lightning hit the rooftop, and Callie’s body flew through the air.

No.

His heart stopped, then it leaped into his throat, choking him.

He had to help her.

With panic making his hands slick, he tried to rise. Pain drove him back into the seat. Shit. Damn. Fuck. He couldn’t even stand. His panic grew. He couldn’t get up there to help her.

Think, Brooks. Otherwise, the woman you love will die.

He sucked in a deep breath and blinked. His gaze fell on his tablet.

He’d help her the best way he could.

CHAPTER TWENTY

Callie slammed into the concrete, her cheek scraping against the rough surface. Pushing up to her hands and knees, she shook her head to clear it.

Moving into a crouch, she stared across the rooftop at Holder.

The woman was holding the wind jewel in her hand, looking up at the monstrous storm clouds.

Callie needed to take her down.

Dammit, she’d lost her gun. She slowly rose, the wind howling around them.

“I will cleanse the Earth!” Holder shouted into the storm. “The good and righteous will rejoice!”

Callie rolled her eyes. Not today, lady.

But as Callie neared, another bolt of lightning speared down. It cracked the concrete near her feet, and she leaped back.

Damn, she needed a plan, and right now, she was out of options.

Then she heard a clunk of metal. She glanced around, but the sound was stolen by the wind and she couldn’t identify the source.

Holder heard the sound too, and had partly turned away from Callie.

Now.

Callie broke into a sprint. She pumped her arms and legs as she ran at the woman.

At the last moment, Holder whipped around and pulled out her pistol.

Shit. Callie dove, rolling across the concrete. Bullets slammed into the ground around her.

She came up on her feet and ran. She rammed into Holder, and the two of them flew backward, crashing into a makeshift sawhorse table. Tools fell around them.

Callie reached out and grabbed a hammer. She swung it at Holder.

Then the wind hit Callie so hard it pushed her back several feet, her boots sliding on the wet concrete.

She gritted her teeth, fighting to push forward.

She heard Holder laugh.

This woman was going to regret everything she’d done. Callie would make her regret hurting Brooks and trying to destroy Las Vegas.

Gripping the hammer so hard her knuckles were turning white, Callie gritted her teeth and pushed forward.

A thunking sound caught her ear.

Thunk. Thunk. Thunk.

Hail stones started to pound down around them. One large chunk hit Callie’s shoulder, knocking her back a step. Ouch.

No hail touched Holder. It was like she had some invisible force field around her.

Dammit. Callie threw an arm up and pushed forward. But the wind and hail were too strong, holding her back.

In desperation, Callie threw the hammer, but it was snatched away by the wind.

Damn. She strained to move forward, but she was pinned in place.

Holder leaned down and lifted up a heavy wrench. She hefted it, ready to throw it at Callie.

Then a flash of yellow appeared to Callie’s left.

The huge construction crane was swinging toward them, even though the cab was empty.

The large, metal hook swung right at Holder. The woman screamed and dropped to the ground.

Callie blinked, and a burst of realization hit her. Her smart, smart man and his magic hacking fingers.

“You can’t stop me!” Holder rose. Her hair was a sodden mess.

The crane swung back again, and Holder dodged to the side, almost losing her balance. She teetered close to the edge of the rooftop.

“I have a vision,” Holder said. “I’m too great and powerful for anyone to stop me.”

“It’s over Holder,” Callie said. “You’ve lost your mind, and we’re taking you down.”

“Never!”

The crane swung back again. Holder tried to evade, but this time, the hook slammed into the woman. She was knocked off the building, flipping over the railing. Her scream joined the roar of the wind as she fell.

Suddenly, the wind dropped off and the hail ceased. Free, Callie rushed over to the railing and looked over the edge.

Holder was flat on the ground far below, her limbs bent at unnatural angles. Callie winced.

Then she scanned the street below and saw Brooks leaning against their ruined car. He gave her a thumbs up.

Pivoting, Callie ran, hitting the stairs. When she jogged out of the construction site, she glanced skyward. The storm was still churning, the tornado still spinning. A lightning strike hit close by.

She ran toward Holder. Despite the terrible fall damage to the woman’s body, Callie pressed her fingers to the woman’s throat. She was dead.

Callie saw the jewel still clutched in the woman’s fingers.

Callie picked it up. It looked like a cream-colored conch shell, but parts of it also looked metallic.

How the hell did she stop this storm?

She ran her fingers over it, and then felt something depress under her thumb with a small click. In her head, she tried to imagine blue skies instead of thick clouds.

All of a sudden, the wind died, and the rain stopped.

Thank God. She looked up and saw the clouds were still overhead, but they were thinning and beginning to dissipate.

Then she turned and ran to Brooks. “Brooks.”

“Hey.” He was smiling at her, even though he looked like an extra from a horror movie. There wasn’t an inch on him that wasn’t covered in blood.

“Way to kick ass, Kimura,” he said.

She leaned into his uninjured side. “I couldn’t have done it without you.” She cupped his jaw. “The crane was totally inspired.”

He shot her the lopsided smile she loved.

Suddenly, a car pulled up next to them with a screech, and his smile died. “Oh, fuck.”

They watched Howard Manning and four armed goons climb out. The goons whipped their weapons up, aiming at Brooks and Callie. Howard took a step forward, and then saw Holder’s body.

“No.” He took two faltering steps. “No!”

Callie straightened. She couldn’t take down four guards without risking her or Brooks getting shot.

Manning’s rage-filled, grief-stricken gaze swung to them. “She was a visionary. The greatest woman I’ve ever known.”

Huh, it seemed Amy Holder’s second-in-command had been in love with her.

“Kill them!” he roared.

The goons moved forward.

Then, there was a quick spurt of gunfire, and one goon went down.

Out of the gloom, Team 52 moved as one. They held their CXMs up, staring down the scopes.

There were several more shots, and Manning went down with a scream. The goons tensed.

“Drop your weapons, and we won’t leave you bleeding on the ground,” Lachlan said, his voice hard and cutting.

The other goons hesitated, then one by one, set their weapons down, dropped to their knees, and put their hands on their heads.

Smith and Axel pushed forward, pulling zip ties off their belts.

“Callie,” Brooks said.

“Yeah?”

“My legs are about to give way.”

She swiveled and helped lower him to the ground. Then she dropped down beside him. She studied his face and pressed her fingers to his wrist, checking his pulse.

It was strong and steady.

She rested her head on his uninjured shoulder. “Hell of a day.”

“Hell of a week,” he said. “But at least it’s over now.”

And inexplicably, Callie felt a slither of icy fear. He’d told her that he loved her. Her heart knocked against her ribs. A part of her was elated and a part of her was terrified. There’d be more dangerous missions, more chances for her to lose this man who was starting to mean everything to her, and she had to work out if she was brave enough to risk her heart.

“IS IT DONE?” Brooks asked in a grumpy voice.

The plump, friendly doctor patted his arm. “All finished. You have a nice row of stitches. Some of my best work, despite your whining.”

Brooks huffed out a breath. “Sorry. I just don’t like hospitals.” And more than that, he desperately wanted to see Callie.

He hadn’t wanted to go to the hospital, but Callie had insisted. In return, he’d bullied the team into bullying her to get checked out as well.

Now, all he wanted to do was see her.

His mouth was dry. He’d told her that he loved her, and she hadn’t mentioned it since.

The door opened and he looked up, hopeful.

Blair walked in. “Hey, big guy.”

His shoulders slumped. “Hi.”

“I’m clearly not the woman you were hoping for.” Blair’s voice was dry and amused.

“Callie?” he asked.

“She’s fine. She didn’t even need stitches. And your parents called. Your family is all okay.”

He blew out a breath. “Thanks.” He cleared his throat. “Is Callie here?” He looked at the doorway.

Blair’s face went blank. “She left a while ago. She asked me to drop you home. She said she had some things to do.”

Brooks couldn’t breathe. She’d left. He dropped his head into his hands. “I fucked up.”

“By helping to save the day? By helping Callie bring down Holder?” Blair snorted. “You’re a hero, Brooks.”

“I fucked up with Callie. I told her I loved her.”

Blair sat down beside him on the bed. “Then she’s probably scared. Just give her some time.”

He nodded. Time. Okay, that was a plan. He’d wait for her forever, if he had to.

But that didn’t mean that his heart wasn’t hurting.

Blair drove him home. The rain had turned to a slow, steady drizzle, but it looked natural now.

“The wind jewel?” he asked.

“Locked up in a containment box at the Bunker. Looks like Holder had joined the second shard with it as well to amplify the effects.”

That was good. The team wouldn’t have to track down the missing shard.

“We’ll transport it to the base tomorrow,” Blair continued. “Then Arlo and Ty can fight over it.”

“Good. How’s MacKade?”

Blair smiled. “Busy with cleanup. Bitching at me about destruction and dead bodies.”

“Amy Holder’s fault, not Team 52’s.”

“We all know that. He’ll get over it. No doubt he’ll demand lots of sexual favors in return.”

Brooks held up a hand. “TMI.”

Blair laughed. “Besides, MacKade’s got his hands full trying to come up with a decent cover story for all of this.”

Brooks didn’t envy the man that task.

Blair pulled up in front of his building, and watched him haul himself out of her car. She walked him to his door.

“Take it easy, Brooks.” She kissed his cheek. “And hang in there. She cares about you.”

Brooks entered his empty condo. For a second, the calm and silence was jarring. All the danger and tension of the mission was over. It felt weird to be back here in his space.

He headed to the shower, cursing as he wrangled his borrowed scrubs off. After a quick shower, he pulled on sweats and then tried to pull his T-shirt on without sending agony through his shoulder. It required some Cirque du Soleil-worthy moves, but he made it. His shirt was another of his favorites—a picture of a man riding a furry alien animal that said, “Save a horse, ride a tauntaun.” But not even his shirt could bring a smile to his face.

In his living room, he moved to the rain-splattered window. He should eat, but he wasn’t hungry. All he could think about was Callie.

Time. Time. Time.

With a frustrated groan, he turned. Maybe he’d play some Xbox? Or work on some of his programs?

There was a knock at his door.

Heart leaping, he raced over to open it.

Callie stood in the hallway, completely drenched.

“You’re soaked.” He pulled her inside. Her clothes and hair were plastered to her body.

“I’ve been walking around in the rain,” she said.

Something in her voice made him pause. “Okay.”

“I’ve hated the rain for years. I’d forgotten that it could be nice to walk in the rain.”

He gripped her arms and watched her face.

Her gray gaze met his. “I’d forgotten that Bec liked to dance in the rain. She was always dancing.”

“Cal—” He desperately wanted to pull her into his arms and hold her.

“I’ve spent so many years remembering the bad and blaming myself, that I’d forgotten the good.”

“Your memories are yours forever, Callie,” he told her. “They’ll always be a part of you.”

She nodded. “I’d forgotten how much I loved them. Still love them.” She stepped closer to him, her cheek to his chest. “Falling in love with you helped me remember that.”

God. God. His brain wouldn’t work. He opened his mouth, closed it.

She looked up at him and smiled. Then she stepped back, looking at his shirt. “I love your shirt.”

Brooks didn’t give a crap about his shirt. “You love me?”

“You’re pretty lovable, Brooks.” She walked forward, backing him up until his knees hit the couch. He dropped down and she straddled his lap, careful of his injury.

“I love you, Brooks Jameson. Your body, your tattoos, your brain, your smile, your glasses.” Her lips twitched and she rolled her hips. “Your cock.”

He groaned, cupping her ass.

“Did I mention your glasses?”’

“Yes,” he rasped. He was going to have them bronzed.

“Your sense of humor, your kindness, the way you look at me like I’m the best thing you’ve ever seen.”

“You are, Callie. I love you so much it makes my brain stop working.” He lowered his voice. “You’re mine?”

“Yes.”

“You’re mine.” He kissed her.

He meant to keep it loving and sweet, but it turned hot and dirty fast. As he tried to pull her closer, he bumped his shoulder and stifled a groan.

“Let me do the work,” she whispered.

She shoved at the waistband of his sweats and he lifted his hips. She pushed his sweats down and her hands circled his cock. Then she was stroking him, taking her time, fingers running all over him. Soon, he was groaning loudly.

Finally, she rose and shucked her wet clothes. Then, beautiful and naked, she was back in his lap, positioning his cock.

“Condom?” he said.

“I’m clean and protected. I’m okay without if you are?”

He nodded vigorously. “I’m clean too.”

She slid down.

They both groaned.

Joined.

She was warm, tight, and so wet. He sank a hand into her hair. “My Callie. My very own gorgeous badass.”

She moved faster. “Touch me, Brooks.”

He ran his hand over her, caressing her breasts, thumbing her nipples, stroking her belly. Then, he moved lower and found her clit.

He rubbed at that swollen nub and she moved faster, taking him harder and deeper. Their breathing turned to harsh pants.

Being inside her, locked together with her, was everything.

“Brooks, oh, God, Brooks.” She threw her head back and came.

Glorious. As her body clamped down on his cock, he was one beat behind her, groaning and shaking through his own release.

She collapsed against his uninjured shoulder.

“Love you, Brooks.”

“Love you, too, Callie.” He stroked a hand down her back. “That was way better than the Xbox game I planned to play.”

She lifted her head and laughed. Brooks watched her, thinking that he was one lucky geek.

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

Callie walked out of the elevator with her team and into the base. They’d had a good, hard training session.

She smiled. She was feeling so happy.

She spotted Arlo stomping out of the warehouse, and even the bad mood throbbing off the older man didn’t bother her.

It had been a week since Amy Holder had tried to destroy Las Vegas. And it had been the best week of Callie’s life.

Every night, if they weren’t at base, she and Brooks were together at his place or hers. They had a running battle playing Gears of War, and she’d discovered that he was a decent cook when he set his mind to it. The man could apparently do anything. They’d also had lots of sex—intense and mind-blowing, fun and laughter-filled, sometimes sweet, but always sexy.

Her man’s big brain meant that he was good at research, and he liked testing out new things and getting creative.

They’d had dinner with his family, who did nothing to hide their glee that Brooks and Callie were a couple. They were also planning a trip to visit her mom soon and hang at the beach.

Blair strode past Callie, pulling her CXM off her shoulder. Callie followed her and the others into their locker room. She listened to her team talking around her as she stripped off her gear and stowed it in her locker.

“Look at you, in a rush to see your man.” Blair sounded highly amused.

Callie pulled out some clean clothes. “Oh, and you aren’t always in a rush to get back to your detective every time we land in Vegas?”

Blair’s eyes turned unfocused. “I can’t get enough of that man, even when he’s driving me crazy.”

Callie threw an arm around her friend and hugged her. “We are pretty darn lucky.”

Blair snorted. “You mean MacKade and Brooks are pretty darn lucky.”

Callie headed for the showers. “That, too.”

After she’d showered and dressed, she waved to the others and headed for the computer room. As she strode down the corridor, she spotted Jonah heading in her direction.

“Callie.” He inclined his head.

“Director.” She had a hunky man of her own, but she still had to admit that Jonah Grayson was prime eye candy. The man had tall, dark, and handsome down to an art form, and he wore a suit so well.

“I understand that you and Brooks are in a personal relationship.”

Callie froze. Shit. “Yes. I assure you, it’s serious, and we’re both professionals.” She thought of what they’d done in the computer room. More than once. Okay, they were professional-ish.

Jonah raised a dark brow. “Brooks? Professional? Have you seen his T-shirts?”

Callie smiled. “I mean that we’ll continue to do our jobs to the best of our abilities.”

A faint smile edged the director’s luscious lips. God, he was ridiculously good-looking.

“I never doubted it. Be happy, Callie.”

“Thanks.” She paused, not sure she should say anything. He was the boss, after all. Curiosity finally won out. “How come some woman hasn’t ever tied you down?”

His green eyes glittered. “I haven’t found one who’s kept my interest.” With a nod, he continued down the corridor.

Callie was madly in love with Brooks, but she was still a heterosexual woman, so naturally, her gaze went to Grayson’s perfect ass hugged by his fitted dress pants. The woman in her wondered just what it would take to capture and hold Jonah Grayson’s attention.

Shaking her head, she headed for the computer room. When she entered, Brooks was sitting at his computer, completely absorbed. He had his feet up on the desk.

She took a second to watch him, her gaze trailing over his muscled arms and their ink.

God, he was gorgeous, and all hers.

She moved up behind him and bent down, nipping his ear. He jerked and cursed, his feet dropping to the floor.

She sucked on his earlobe.

“Shit, Cal.” His voice was husky.

“Are you hard?” She looked over his shoulder and down to his lap. Yep, his jeans were tight.

He groaned. “When you breathe, I get hard.”

“We’re at base tonight, so later, after everyone’s asleep, how about we meet here for a date? You and me…and maybe you can leave a screen on again?”

He groaned again, long and loud.

“Hey, no base hanky-panky.” Blair strode in.

Axel was behind her, his hands over his eyes. “I’m not looking.”

The team loved teasing them, and Callie didn’t mind one little bit. She’d sensed they’d been cautious at first, but after a week of watching Brooks and Callie together, they’d settled in.

As the rest of them filed in, everyone holding sodas or coffee mugs, Brooks scanned them.

“Where’s Ty?”

Blair rolled her eyes. “Locked in his lab, muttering. He’s still trying to unlock the secrets of the wind jewel.”

Seth grinned. “And Arlo’s hovering, wanting to lock it up in the warehouse. There’s going to be a fistfight soon.”

“If Arlo hurts Ty, River will take him down,” Axel said.

Ty’s girlfriend was mean when riled. Although, considering Ty towered over Arlo and had several pounds on him, the scientist could probably take care of himself.

Axel leaned against the wall and took a casual sip of his coffee. “Where’s Nat?”

“Archeology conference,” Lachlan answered. “In Greece.”

Axel groaned. “A room full of stuffy archeologists talking about old shit. Boring.”

“I’d like to hear you tell Natalie that,” Blair said.

“So, no more training until tomorrow?” Brooks asked.

“All finished for the day,” Lachlan said.

“How about a Call of Duty battle in the rec room?”

Axel pointed at Brooks. “You’re on, Jameson. And you’re going down.”

Brooks snorted. “Diaz, you might know your way around a submachine gun in real life, but in Call of Duty-landia, I am king.”

After a little more trash talk, the room cleared, as everyone made their way to the rec room. Brooks rose.

“Nice way to get rid of them,” Callie murmured.

“I’m a pretty smart guy.”

Her gaze dropped to the front of his T-shirt and she laughed. “Really?”

“Hey, if it’s true…”

His shirt was emblazoned with text designed in a similar fashion to the famous opening crawl of every Star Wars movie. It pronounced, “I’m literally the most awesome person in your universe.”

She shook her head. “Well, I can concur that it is absolutely true.”

His brown eyes fired and he wrapped an arm around her. “I need to kiss you.”

He nibbled her lips, then tipped her head back and kissed her.

“You can kiss me whenever you want,” she murmured.

He lifted his head, his face intense. “I love you, Callie.”

She pulled back and started unbuttoning her shirt. His eyes widened, and then she shoved the shirt open.

She wore a T-shirt underneath. It had a picture of Han Solo holding a gun on it, and the words “I know” printed below it.

Brooks’ grin just about split his handsome face. “I knew you loved Star Wars.”

She smiled back. “I love you more.”

He pulled her closer. “I’ve got the most beautiful, talented, badass woman in the world, and she loves me.” He shook his head. “I keep thinking I’m going to wake up and find out this is all a dream.”

Callie twisted her hands in his shirt. She knew how precious life was, and how sometimes, you could lose the ones you loved. But having this man as hers was worth every risk. Waking beside him, kissing him, loving him, was amazing. For however long she had that—and she hoped it was until they were both old and gray—she was going to glory in it. Besides, she’d protect him with everything she had. They’d take care of each other and build a life together.

She couldn’t wait.

When his lips touched hers, Callie yanked her tattooed geek close and kissed him back.

Axel

THE SOUNDS of gunfire exploded through the room, followed by the rolling clank of a tank.

“Oh, come on!” Blair shouted. “I was in cover. You couldn’t have made that shot, Diaz.”

“I did. Your ass was hanging out, Mason.”

They were all in front of the big screen in the rec room. Axel had to admit, playing war games on a screen was a hell of a lot nicer than being under fire in real life.

He’d unfortunately been under fire in some hellholes in his lifetime.

His heart pounded hard for a moment and his breathing quickened. He missed Delta sometimes. He’d worked on the edge, defending his country, and he’d been fucking good at it. Someone had to do the dirty work to keep their country safe.

But he’d done his time, and besides, he was still defending his country by working with Team 52.

If he still had nightmares, he figured that was normal.

If he was still broken inside, he figured that was normal too. Some pieces never went back together.

Axel knew that he’d never inflict those nightmares on anyone else.

“Brooks, watch out!” Callie yelled. “Sniper.”

Axel turned his head and saw Callie leaning against Brooks. They were both grinning at each other. Axel let out a big sigh. They may as well have had a neon sign over their heads, saying “in love.”

Truthfully, he was happy as hell for them. And the rest of his teammates who’d found someone worth holding on to. Hell, Seth even had a baby on the way.

But it wasn’t for him. His mama would be disappointed, but he was never dragging a woman down in his muck. If he needed sex, thankfully Las Vegas was full of a variety of women looking for a good, temporary time.

Then he thought of big, up-tilted eyes so brown they looked black, and shiny, dark hair, and a face so beautiful it made his gut cramp.

No. His hand curled around his game controller.

She wasn’t for him.

But his mind ignored him, thinking instead of Natalie’s gorgeous body that she showed off in her tight skirts and fuck-me shoes.

He blew out a breath. Nat ticked every fucking fantasy box he had.

But they worked together, and he wasn’t shitting where he worked. He glanced at Brooks and Callie again, then he rubbed the back of his neck.

He wasn’t going to hurt a woman like that, especially a woman like Nat.

But fighting the pull of her was getting damn fucking hard. Especially since he hadn’t hooked up with anyone for…he calculated. Hell, a couple of months.

Get a grip, Diaz.

A chime sounded, and he glanced over to see Brooks lean down and grab his tablet. Then, the man stiffened like he’d been stung by something.

“Nat?” Brooks said to the tablet with a frown.

Sounds came from the tablet—screams, crashing.

Then Nat’s panicked voice. “Brooks, I need help.”

Axel shot out of his chair and raced over. He leaned over Brooks’ shoulder.

“Nat, what’s happening?” he barked.

The image of her flickered. “It… happen… attacking…”

The signal was breaking up.

“Clear it up,” Axel demanded.

“I can’t from here,” Brooks said. “Computer room.”

Brooks moved quickly, sprinting out of the rec room. Axel glanced at the others and then followed. They all thundered down the corridor.

When they burst into the computer room, Nat’s fear-lined face was up on all the screens.

“It’s attacking us.” Her hair was tangled around her pale face. “We need help.”

Behind her, Axel saw a large, modern conference room filled with chairs. Many were tipped over, and he saw that half the roof had collapsed in.

“Nat, what’s happening?” Axel yelled.

Her dark gaze locked with his. “Axel.”

She was so afraid. His heart thumped in his chest. “Mi cielo, I’m here. We’ll get you out.”

She bit her lip and another crash echoed behind her. “Please—”

All the screens went blank.

“Get her back!” Axel yelled.

Brooks tapped frantically on his keyboard. He cursed. “I can’t. She’s gone.”

No. Axel swiveled and punched the wall.

“Brooks, get in touch with the Greek authorities.” Lachlan’s tone was hard. “Find out what the hell is going on.”

“We need to get to Greece,” Axel said.

Lachlan stepped forward. “Axel—”

“Now!”

Lachlan watched him a beat, then nodded. “Everyone, gear up. Wheels up in forty minutes.”

“Twenty,” Axel barked, ignoring the curious glances from his teammates.

He had to get to Nat.

I hope you enjoyed Brooks and Callie’s story!

Team 52 will continue with Axel and Nat’s story, Mission: Her Shield. Read on for a preview of the first chapter.

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PREVIEW - MISSION: HER SHIELD

Running for your life, scared out of your mind, sucked.

Natalie Blackwell choked back a sob. She could barely see in the dank, dark tunnel. The harsh rasp of her breathing competed with the hard thump of her heart.

Her bare foot hit something sharp and she winced. She pressed a palm to the stone wall and sucked in some air. She couldn’t even remember losing her shoes, and her favorite gray skirt was now torn and stained.

She was so claiming them as work expenses when she got out of this nightmare. A hysterical laugh bubbled in her throat. She’d been running through these underground tunnels for hours, and she still hadn’t found a way out.

Somewhere, deep in the labyrinth of tunnels, a monstrous roar echoed.

No. Her pulse spiked, and she took off running again.

She turned a corner, her feet slapping on the damp stone.

She’d been at an archeology conference in Athens. She’d been loving the fabulous talks, the chats with colleagues, and the socializing. Needless to say, her conference had gone very wrong.

Now she was alone, in the dark.

You’ve always been alone. Nat felt her chest lock. That’s right. Growing up, her ambitious parents had mostly forgotten they’d had a daughter. They’d always been late home from work, or off on work trips. Natalie had spent more time with her nanny and housekeeper.

She lifted her chin. So what? It had taught her independence and to trust herself. It had made her strong.

And while she might be alone right now, her team would be searching for her.

Her belly clenched. God, she missed them.

As the archeologist for a covert black ops team, Nat spent most of her time locked in an underground base in Nevada, helping her team of military badasses save the world. She had to believe they’d come for her.

If they could find her.

As she paused at a junction, peering down the shadowed tunnels, she thought of sexy, brown eyes and a handsome, scruff-covered face.

Axel Diaz—former Delta Force, too handsome for his own good, a charmer.

Natalie choked back a small sob. Axel was her secret, middle-of-the-night fantasy. They were attracted to each other, but he’d never acted on it, and she’d seen him run through one-night stands like a…a… Forget it. She was too stressed out to think of a good metaphor. She didn’t deny she wanted the guy, but she wasn’t interested in being a notch on his already very notched bedpost.

She sniffled, rubbing her hand under her nose. Still, she was going to think of Axel’s muscled arms and sexy smile to get her through this.

Whatever the hell this was.

Something inexplicable had happened at the conference. One of the archeologists had gone crazy and he’d changed into something…wild. He’d attacked the conference attendees, torn up the hotel, then abducted Nat and several other female archeologists.

After that, everything was a blur. He’d knocked them all out—she had the aching lump on the back of her head to prove it. She’d woken up locked in a dark space with the other sobbing women beside her. Wherever they’d been trapped had been rocking, so she’d guessed they’d been aboard a boat.

The next thing Nat knew, she’d come to in these dark tunnels.

She had no idea where the other women were, although she’d heard someone scream about an hour ago. Or thirty minutes ago, or hell, maybe two hours ago. She had no idea what the time was.

Squeezing her eyes closed, she tried to keep calm. All this had to be linked to her work. She had access to a lot of classified information. Unbeknownst to most historians, human civilization had once been far more advanced than the mainstream history books taught. Advanced cultures had risen and been destroyed during the last ice age. Through her work, Nat had the chance to study incredible pieces of technology that had survived to modern times.

Team 52 was tasked with retrieving powerful artifacts that occasionally turned up, and keeping them out of the wrong hands. At their secret base at Area 52, they had a warehouse filled with incredible but deadly artifacts.

Nat had no idea what had driven Dr. Mark Kitchener to lose his mind, but she would survive this.

“The team is coming,” she whispered. “The team is coming.” Axel is coming.

If she made it out—no, when—she was going to kiss him. She had no idea what made him avoid relationships, but fuck it, she wanted to know how well he kissed.

A scraping noise echoed behind her. She swiveled, squinting into the darkness, and her heart leaped into her throat.

She walked backward, trying to keep her steps quiet. Her fingers dragged against the wall, and caught on shallow grooves that might have been engravings. Damn, she wished she could see.

Another scraping sound.

Biting her lip, she turned and ran. She had to keep moving.

Suddenly, she collided with another body.

A woman screamed.

“Shh!” Nat whispered. “It’s okay. I’m not the monster.”

The woman whimpered, moving closer. “Natalie?”

Nat recognized the French accent. “Cosette?” The woman was from the University of Bordeaux.

“Oui.” The woman gripped Nat’s arms, her nails biting into Nat’s skin. “It’s hunting us.”

“It’s Dr. Kitchener. Something happened to him.”

“Whatever happened, he is changed. A monster.” Cosette lowered her voice. “He has horns. Like the devil.”

Crap. Nat had seen the horns, but she’d thought that she’d hallucinated them.

Then they both heard a soft snorting sound and footsteps. Heavy footsteps.

“He comes,” Cosette whimpered.

“Let’s go.”

But the woman was terrified and frozen to the spot. Nat grabbed Cosette’s hand and tugged.

“You’re not alone, Cosette. My team is coming for us.”

“The monster will devour us…or worse.”

What was worse than being devoured? “Not today,” Nat clipped out. “I’m not up for any devouring. Now, let’s move.”

They took off running down the tunnel.

Nat tried to stay strong, repeating the words over and over again in her head. Hurry, Team 52. Hurry, Axel.

Before the SUV had even stopped, Axel Diaz threw open the door.

His boots hit the ground and he strode toward the front entrance of the Athens Marriott Hotel. It was a square box of a structure that looked more like an office building than a hotel. Ahead, a yellow line of police tape was strung across the front doors, and several police cars sat lined up in the front of the building.

He moved to duck under the tape, when a police officer dressed in a dark-blue uniform turned and fired off some angry words in Greek at him.

Axel swiveled and stared at the man.

The policeman’s eyes widened, and he took a step back.

Wise choice, amigo. Axel had had a very bad night, and he was more than ready to take it out on anyone who got in his way.

“Axel, hold up,” a deep voice said.

Axel paused as Lachlan Hunter, leader of Team 52, stepped up beside him.

“I’m Lachlan Hunter,” the tall former Marine told the officer. “We need to talk with Captain Andreas Nikou.”

The officer eyed them suspiciously. Axel ground his teeth together, watching as the frowning officer headed over to a cluster of other police officers. Axel hated waiting. He’d been trapped on the team jet for fucking hours. He’d spent every minute imagining what the hell could be happening to Nat.

Don’t lose it. He flexed his hands. Nat needed him.

The police captain appeared, striding toward them. He was an imposing man with thick, dark hair. Lachlan nodded, and the men had a low, heated conversation. From what Axel could overhear, the Athens Police had nothing.

Then Lachlan said the magic words. “I think you need to talk with Director Grayson.”

The next second, the captain’s phone rang. Scowling, he held it to his ear. “Director Grayson. Yes, I’m Captain Nikou.”

The man turned away, talking with the Team 52 director. Axel glanced at the rest of his team.

They were all spread out under the hotel’s entry portico. Blair Mason was bouncing on the balls of her feet, ready for action. Her blonde hair was in a neat braid, and her athletic body dressed in brown cargo pants and black T-shirt. She caught Axel’s gaze and rolled her eyes. She was no less happy about the delay, and wasn’t a big fan of bureaucracy.

Beside her stood Seth Lynch, looking calm and composed. The former CIA spy usually looked cool, but he was jingling something in the pocket of his black cargo pants. Behind them, Smith Creed rose a head taller than everyone else, his brawny arms crossed over his wide chest. Callie Kimura, the team medic, stood beside him, looking impatient. Her black hair was pulled back in a tight ponytail. River, their newest team member, had her hands in the pockets of her jeans, her gaze narrowed on the police. Her curly dark hair was pulled back ruthlessly from her face. A former MI6 agent, the woman had skills and would be an asset to the team.

And also with the team was Dr. Ty Sampson. He was the team’s scientist and River’s man. The pair had fallen in love on a dangerous mission. Ty usually didn’t come into the field with them, but with Nat missing, they needed him on the ground. The big, dark-skinned man was scowling at the hotel doors like he could see through them and stroking his goatee.

They were all impatient to find Nat. Axel pictured her laughing—she was Australian with some Chinese heritage—and she had the best laugh he’d ever heard. She was fucking gorgeous, wore tight skirts over her mouthwatering figure, and had long, black hair. Her beautiful face went perfectly with that quick, clever brain of hers.

Axel shoved a hand through his hair. She had to be okay. He couldn’t imagine a world without Natalie Blackwell in it.

He’d wanted her for forever. And he’d fought that attraction just as long.

He was nowhere good enough for her. She deserved so much better than a broken ex-soldier who specialized in random hookups, and who woke every night screaming from his nightmares.

Shit, this isn’t about you, Diaz. He needed to focus on Nat.

The police captain ended the call and headed back to them.

“Please go in, Mr. Hunter. Anything you need, let my officers know, and they will assist you.”

Director Jonah Grayson greases the wheels again. Axel ducked under the tape, smacked a hand against the glass door, and strode into the hotel.

With the team at his back, he crossed the lobby, following the signs to the conference room.

When he stepped through the open double doors and into the large room, he sucked in a breath. Fuck.

The place had been destroyed. There were holes in the walls, tables and chairs had been overturned, and the ceiling had partially collapsed.

Axel remembered Nat’s frantic video call. I need help. She’d been terrified.

Then his gaze fell to the ugly carpeted floor. Several bodies lay under white sheets.

The blood drained out of his face. No. No. He strode straight toward them.

“Axel—” Lachlan lunged for him.

Dodging his friend, he gripped the sheet over the first body and flipped it back. A middle-aged man stared up at him with sightless eyes.

He moved to the next body. It was a woman in her late thirties, dressed in an ugly, brown suit.

He flicked back the last sheet. This woman was younger, with blood-stained blonde hair.

Axel stood and jammed his hands on his hips. He released a long breath. None of them were Nat.

“What the fuck happened here?” Ty said.

Lachlan scanned the room, his golden gaze like a tiger’s, searching for prey. “The police reports say a monster attacked the conference.”

Axel’s eyebrows rose. “A monster?”

“Yep. Humanoid, red eyes, dark-gray skin, with horns on its head.”

“Fuck,” Smith muttered.

“Split up and search the room,” Lachlan ordered.

Axel spun and circled the large space. He determined where Nat had been standing when she’d called them. Nearby, a long table was tipped on its side, several smashed artifacts littered across the carpet.

Nat would be pissed to see them broken and ruined.

He moved closer and crouched down. He’d learned enough working with Team 52 to pull a pen out of his pocket to avoid using his fingers. He gently touched the broken shards of clay. It looked like it had been some sort of vessel or jar. While the clay was a smooth red color on the outside, it was stained black on the inside.

Nearby, a round, clay tablet was resting beside a broken stand. He used the pen to tip it onto its back. It was circular, with some sort of pictograms on it, written in a spiral. If it helped find Nat, he was taking it with them.

Still standing upright was a figurine of a woman. Her arms were outstretched, and she was holding snakes in each hand. There were also several pots—some broken, some intact—made of black clay and decorated in vibrant, red designs.

“What have you got?” Ty appeared.

“Artifacts.”

The scientist crouched. “Definitely Ancient Greek. Some look Minoan.”

“This broken jar tell us anything?”

Ty shrugged a shoulder. “I’ll take samples and test it.” He snapped on some gloves and pulled out some bags.

“Here.” Axel nudged the round clay tablet.

“Shit,” Ty grunted. “I think I’ve seen this before.” He carefully slid it into a bag. Next, he started collecting up shards of the broken pot.

Once they were done, they met the others in the center of the room.

“There are reports from the hotel staff that the attacker took several women with him,” Lachlan said.

“How?” Blair demanded.

“Carried them out. Witnesses say they all looked unconscious.”

Axel ground his teeth together. If this thing had hurt Nat…

“After the monster left the grounds, it disappeared,” Lachlan finished.

“So we have no idea where Nat is?” Axel bit out.

“Not yet.” Lachlan’s gold eyes flashed. “But we won’t stop until we do.”

“Fucking hell.” Blair spun, her blonde braid swinging behind her.

“Keep it together.” Lachlan’s gaze bored into Axel. “Captain Nikou gave me the names of some of the archeologists recovering in the hospital.”

Axel’s pulse spiked. Finally, something concrete. “I’m driving.”

Team 52

Mission: Her Protection

Mission: Her Rescue

Mission: Her Security

Mission: Her Defense

Mission: Her Safety

Mission: Her Freedom

Mission: Her Shield

Also Available as Audiobooks!

PREVIEW: THS AND NORCROSS SECURITY

Want to learn more about Treasure Hunter Security? Check out the first book in the series, Undiscovered, Declan Ward’s action-packed story.

One former Navy SEAL. One dedicated archeologist. One secret map to a fabulous lost oasis.

Finding undiscovered treasures is always daring, dangerous, and deadly. Perfect for the men of Treasure Hunter Security. Former Navy SEAL Declan Ward is haunted by the demons of his past and throws everything he has into his security business—Treasure Hunter Security. Dangerous archeological digs – no problem. Daring expeditions – sure thing. Museum security for invaluable exhibits – easy. But on a simple dig in the Egyptian desert, he collides with a stubborn, smart archeologist, Dr. Layne Rush, and together they get swept into a deadly treasure hunt for a mythical lost oasis. When an evil from his past reappears, Declan vows to do anything to protect Layne.

Dr. Layne Rush is dedicated to building a successful career—a promise to the parents she lost far too young. But when her dig is plagued by strange accidents, targeted by a lethal black market antiquities ring, and artifacts are stolen, she is forced to turn to Treasure Hunter Security, and to the tough, sexy, and too-used-to-giving-orders Declan. Soon her organized dig morphs into a wild treasure hunt across the desert dunes.

Danger is hunting them every step of the way, and Layne and Declan must find a way to work together…to not only find the treasure but to survive.

Treasure Hunter Security

Undiscovered

Uncharted

Unexplored

Unfathomed

Untraveled

Unmapped

Unidentified

Undetected

Also Available as Audiobooks!

For some sexy, action-packed contemporary romance, don’t miss the Norcross Security series. Check out the first book, The Investigator.

The only man who can keep her safe is her boss’ gorgeous brother.

Museum curator Haven McKinney has sworn off men. All of them. Totally. She’s recently escaped a bad ex and started a new life for herself in San Francisco. She loves her job at the Hutton Museum, likes her new boss, and has made best friends with his feisty sister. Haven’s also desperately trying not to notice their brother: hotshot investigator Rhys Norcross. And she’s really trying not to notice his muscular body, sexy tattoos, and charming smile.

Nope, Rhys is off limits. But then Haven finds herself in the middle of a deadly situation…

Investigator Rhys Norcross is good at finding his targets. After leaving an elite Ghost Ops military team, the former Delta Force soldier thrives on his job at his brother’s security firm, Norcross Security. He’s had his eye on smart, sexy Haven for a while, but the pretty curator with her eyes full of secrets is proving far harder to chase down than he anticipated.

Luckily, Rhys never, ever gives up.

When thieves target the museum and steal a multi-million-dollar painting in a daring theft, Haven finds herself in trouble, and dangers from her past rising. Rhys vows to do whatever it takes to keep her safe, and Haven finds herself risking the one thing she was trying so hard to protect—her heart.

Norcross Security

The Investigator

The Troubleshooter

ALSO BY ANNA HACKETT

Norcross Security

The Investigator

The Troubleshooter

Team 52

Mission: Her Protection

Mission: Her Rescue

Mission: Her Security

Mission: Her Defense

Mission: Her Safety

Mission: Her Freedom

Mission: Her Shield

Also Available as Audiobooks!

Treasure Hunter Security

Undiscovered

Uncharted

Unexplored

Unfathomed

Untraveled

Unmapped

Unidentified

Undetected

Also Available as Audiobooks!

Eon Warriors

Edge of Eon

Touch of Eon

Heart of Eon

Kiss of Eon

Mark of Eon

Claim of Eon

Also Available as Audiobooks!

Galactic Gladiators: House of Rone

Sentinel

Defender

Centurion

Paladin

Guard

Weapons Master

Also Available as Audiobooks!

Galactic Gladiators

Gladiator

Warrior

Hero

Protector

Champion

Barbarian

Beast

Rogue

Guardian

Cyborg

Imperator

Hunter

Also Available as Audiobooks!

Hell Squad

Marcus

Cruz

Gabe

Reed

Roth

Noah

Shaw

Holmes

Niko

Finn

Theron

Hemi

Ash

Levi

Manu

Griff

Dom

Survivors

Tane

Also Available as Audiobooks!

The Anomaly Series

Time Thief

Mind Raider

Soul Stealer

Salvation

Anomaly Series Box Set

The Phoenix Adventures

Among Galactic Ruins

At Star’s End

In the Devil’s Nebula

On a Rogue Planet

Beneath a Trojan Moon

Beyond Galaxy’s Edge

On a Cyborg Planet

Return to Dark Earth

On a Barbarian World

Lost in Barbarian Space

Through Uncharted Space

Crashed on an Ice World

Perma Series

Winter Fusion

A Galactic Holiday

Warriors of the Wind

Tempest

Storm & Seduction

Fury & Darkness

Standalone Titles

Savage Dragon

Hunter’s Surrender

One Night with the Wolf

For more information visit www.annahackett.com

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

I’m a USA Today bestselling romance author who’s passionate about fast-paced, emotion-filled contemporary and science fiction romance. I love writing about people overcoming unbeatable odds and achieving seemingly impossible goals. I like to believe it’s possible for all of us to do the same.

I live in Australia with my own personal hero and two very busy, always-on-the-move sons.

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