1941002110 (R) (27 page)

She goaded him into action then. He reached for her, but she stepped out of his way, stumbling backward, away from him.

“Go to hell, Chase,” she hissed. “Fucking go to hell!”

She turned and strode away. He started after her, but his body was suddenly on fire, frozen in place as lightning bolts rolled through him. He couldn’t move, couldn’t breathe—

And then he couldn’t see her anymore as the world blinked out of existence.

33

E
verything fucking hurt. Chase forced his eyes open and stared up at the darkening sky. His muscles felt like rubber, refusing to obey his commands to move. It took a few seconds, but he finally managed to push himself up and onto his elbows. The door to the building burst open and Hawk, Richie, Ice, and Kid busted through, weapons drawn and badass-motherfucker looks on their faces.

Kid rushed over and helped him sit up. The others filtered back to them within moments, weapons lowered but badass looks still firmly in place.

“Sophie,” Chase forced out, his voice cracking. He pretty much knew he’d been shot with a stun gun. Military grade, judging by the feel of it.

Richie swore. “Goddammit, how the fuck did they even know where to go?”

Hawk looked more pissed than Chase had ever seen him, which wasn’t good considering how calm the guy usually was. Calm and deadly was his norm. Pissed and deadly? Fucking scary.

“I’d like to know that myself,” Hawk said. “Fuck!”

“We saw them on the security cam, but we couldn’t get downstairs in time,” Kid told Chase. “They tased you and grabbed Sophie.”

Chase struggled to his feet, his muscles still like rubber, his body aching and smarting. He was lucky they’d only tased him, but he couldn’t dwell on that. He was still alive—and Sophie was in danger.

“We have to find her.”

He stumbled away from the group and Iceman caught him, stopped him. Chase jerked out of Ice’s grip, but he didn’t keep going. Hawk materialized beside them.

“We’ve got nowhere to go just yet,” Hawk said. “At least not until Kid accesses the security cams from the nearby businesses. We have to hope like fucking hell they’re on it. We get a fix on their ride, we can go after them.”

Chase gaped at the men, his brothers, standing around him—except for Kid, who’d dashed back inside. “You mean we don’t even fucking know
where
to go? Those bastards took Sophie, and all we can do is stand around with our thumbs up our asses and pray for footage that’ll show us what the fuck they’re driving?”

Hawk had walked away during Chase’s tirade and lifted his phone to his ear. No one else said anything. They just continued to look at Chase sympathetically. He sucked in a breath that hurt. He felt like he was coming unglued at the seams, his skin splitting wide because it couldn’t contain the pain he felt.

Not physical pain, because that didn’t amount to much when he was accustomed to dealing with that kind of pain from his job.

This pain was worse. Deeper. In his soul.

Sophie.

She was gone. Kidnapped by Androv’s men, probably scared out of her mind, and headed for who knew what kind of trouble.

Androv would not be kind. He would not be understanding. He would hurt her. He wouldn’t kill her right away because he was too arrogant for that, too diabolical. He would want her tortured, want her to suffer for daring to defy him. For stealing from him.

Hawk was talking, but his voice was low and Chase couldn’t make out his words.

Jesus, why had he been an asshole to her? Why had he told her they needed to deny everything they were feeling and pretend it never happened? Everything between them had been a whirlwind—but it was a whirlwind he’d never experienced before. He’d never been so addicted to a woman and so miserable about it at the same time. What the fuck was wrong with him?

Hawk turned and came back over to the group, his eyes glittering with determination. “Androv is in fucking DC, speaking at an international technology convention. Mendez is putting the SEALS on him. Every move he makes, we’ll know it.”

Chase’s gut twisted. “That’s where we need to look for Sophie then. He’ll keep her close. He’s too much of an egomaniac not to.”

“I think you’re right,” Richie said. He took out his phone. “I’m calling Viking. He’ll be happy to let us join in.”

Viking was Dane “Viking” Erikson, the SEAL team commander and a pretty badass guy to have at your back in a fight.

“We need to go inside and arm,” Hawk said, and everyone agreed. They didn’t have time to go to HOT and get their equipment, but Hawk had his own arsenal.

After they methodically went through the weapons, loaded them, and strapped on microphones and transmitters so they could talk, they were ready. Kid joined them as well, his search of the surrounding security cams revealing nothing of use. But knowing where Androv was, and knowing he wanted Sophie, was better. They would find her—and if Androv got hurt in the process, Chase couldn’t really be too upset about that.

Evie sat alone in the adjoining office. She looked up when they came in, her gaze missing nothing, from the battle ready equipment to their determined expressions. She walked over and kissed Matt.

“Give them hell, baby,” she said. “And get our girl back.”

Chase started at that description of Sophie. Evie considered her one of their own, one of their little family of warriors. And why not? She’d been on a mission, and she’d helped retrieve information that might just give them insight into the heart of Grigori Androv’s operations.

“Not leaving until I put you in the car,” Matt said.

Evie rolled her eyes as she snagged her purse from the desk. “Then let’s go so you can get down to the real business of the evening.”

As they were walking out, she stopped and put a hand on Chase’s arm. Her eyes made him think of Sophie’s eyes. She had that same beautiful shade of violet, and yet she was completely different from Sophie.

“Good luck, Chase. I know y’all will succeed because it’s what you do—but when you get her back, tell her whatever it is that’s on your mind. The two of you—” She hesitated. “God, it hurt just being in the same room with you. I don’t know what that means, but I’m thinking it means something. Stop fighting it. Life is too short.”

S
HE WAS DRUNK
. Sophie held her hand up in front of her face and tried to focus on it. She shook her head, tried again. Her fingers still didn’t come into focus, so she dropped her hand and turned her head. The world rippled.

She was lying on a bed. A soft bed, really. She didn’t know how she’d gotten here. She remembered fighting with Chase…

Oh, Chase. Her throat ached at the thought of him. She couldn’t remember all the reasons why, though she tried to push past the fog and find the memories in the mistiness of her head.

She’d been arguing with Chase, she’d turned and walked away and—nothing. She’d woken up here, drunk.

But where was here? She tried to roll over, but she couldn’t coordinate herself enough to move.

She heard the clinking of glass in the background. A man’s laughter. A soft hand pushed her hair from her face and she turned toward it, trying to see who it was.

“She’s coming out of it,” a woman’s voice said.

“Excellent. She needs to be able to walk on her own by the time Mr. Rodriguez arrives.”

“She will.”

“But she needs to be quiet.”

“I’m doing my best. This is the first time you’ve ever wanted to sell a girl outside the auction.”

“Cannot be helped. I don’t have time to wait, and Rodriguez is ready to buy.”

“She’ll be ready, Mr. Androv.”

A pause. “One hour.”

“Yes, sir.”

34

C
hase and his team, which now included Brandy and Victoria as well as Viking’s SEALs, were spreading out on the floor of the Walter E. Washington Convention Center in downtown DC. The center was jammed with technology displays, one of which was Zoprava’s booth where they touted not only their antivirus software but also their research into ways to guard against cyberwarfare attacks. They were setting themselves up as the company to turn to for solutions in protecting vulnerable networks against hostile incursions.

Ironic considering Open Sky was another of Androv’s businesses, but then most people didn’t know that. It made a perverse sense, however. One of the most notorious networks of hackers also worked for the man who wanted to sell you a defense against hackers.

Chase strode through the crowd, heading for the stage at one end where the speakers were scheduled to be. He spotted Androv in a gathering and hot anger roared through him. He increased his pace. A voice spoke through the mic in his ear.

“Easy, Fiddler. We have to let him lead us to her. No good making a greasy spot in the carpet out of him.”

Chase slowed. He knew his team leader was right. Tipping his hand before it was time was stupid. And he had enough experience to be patient.

He’d just never had to be patient when his insides were churning with this kind of fear. Not fear for himself, but fear for Sophie. He’d sworn to protect her, sworn he wouldn’t let Androv get her.

He hadn’t kept that promise, and it left a hollow in his chest. A big fucking hole that was so huge he felt like he’d fall into it if he looked over the edge. And keep falling forever. There was no getting out of this pit. No redemption whatsoever without Sophie.

He had to get her back. And then he had to tell her…

What?

Tell her fucking what?

This, dumbass
.
Tell her
this
.

About the hole. About the guilt. About the despair and anger and the way he hadn’t ever felt as good as he’d felt the few days he’d spent with her. Not at first, no. But when they’d talked, when he’d understood her, when he’d tasted her—hell, he didn’t want to stop tasting her. He needed more of that. He didn’t know what that meant, he just knew he did.

And he had to figure out how to make it work. But first he had to get her back. He refused to think about what he’d do if he didn’t get her back. If it was too late.

His throat ached and his vision blurred as he stared at the stage. As he waited for Androv to walk to the podium and spew his garbage.

The man finally went over and stood, looking out at the crowd like they owed him something. He spread his arms, jerking them skyward to make the cheers go higher. People obliged, yelling louder the longer he did it.

And then he turned his hands palms down and they quieted. He launched into a speech about the future, about networks the world over being joined together, about vulnerabilities and the need to prepare for disaster. To avert disaster.

Zoprava could do that, of course. Zoprava was working on the technology to protect the world’s networks. Zoprava and Grigori Androv were concerned about the world. They had just donated twenty million dollars to refugee relief in the Middle East. They were cutting-edge, caring.

“You believe this guy?” Kid said into their ears. “Holy fuck.”

“He’s like a supervillain in a comic book,” someone else said. One of the SEALs. Cody McCormick, maybe. Or Remy Marchand.

Chase liked those guys. Liked them a lot. But right now all he could think of was Sophie. He studied Androv. The man had never touched her according to Sophie. Never tried to fuck her. Impotent or gay—or so fucking narcissistic he wasn’t interested in anyone but himself.

Though Chase had never found that to be the case. Most men—especially the unbearably egomaniacal ones—liked fucking something, whether it was male or female.

Still, if this guy hadn’t wanted Sophie, then he was stupid. But thank God he hadn’t, because that meant he’d never had his filthy hands on her. Never tasted her sweetness. Never known the bliss of coming hard with Sophie underneath him, taking him in and making him feel like he was on top of the world.

Androv wrapped up his speech, sucked up the applause, pointed everyone to the Zoprava booth, and then worked his way through the crowd, shaking hands and smiling.

One of the SEALs was in that lineup, waiting to shake hands and place a small radio transmitter on Androv’s jacket as he did so. Chase watched, saw the moment the SEAL—Zack Anderson—took Androv’s hand and said something while gripping his elbow with the other. Then he smiled and stepped back while Androv continued on down the line.

“Got him,” Viking said. “Let’s roll.”