Ana’s back hit the wall of the building. Riding on fear and adrenaline, she rammed the hilt of her closed switchblade against her pursuer’s windpipe.
Her eyes widened.
Jonas
.
One hand fisted in the material of his sweater as she fought for breath.
What the hell was he doing here?
A thick arm braced against the bricks at her back. An intense grip clasped her shirt below her neck. His cool eyes locked on hers.
Cautiously, she edged back her switchblade, attempting to slide out of his hold—a slow deliberate escape from a potentially dangerous opponent. He merely pressed closer, surrounding her completely.
Mild cologne caressed her senses. She tried to shift away from the intrusion. Tried to fight the heat he produced. No threat lurked on his face, no indication he intended physical harm. But could she trust her instincts?
“Jonas,” she managed. Her throat felt parched and she swallowed a small dose of panic, then darted her tongue across her dry lips. His mouth was too close.
His gaze flickered, his grip on her shirt tightening, lifting her to her toes.
No, no.
The panic poured through her. She shoved the handle harder against his throat. “Don’t—”
Footsteps pounded a short distance away. They both jerked. Her heels hit asphalt.
“They’re coming,” she whispered. Her head whipped left, right.
Run
.
Ana glanced up at Jonas. He wasn’t paying attention to her. He leaned away, pulling open an entrance inches away from them, a metal door nearly camouflaged inside the wall.
He grabbed her arm, and yanked her inside, closing the door quietly behind them.
Ana swallowed hard. Her body shook. Was it from barely escaping death, or the close proximity to Jonas again?
Keep calm.
Willing her nerves to settle, she glanced around. They were hiding in an abandoned building of some kind. A crack house. Sunlight penetrated through a few broken windows. Homeless individuals lay in darkened corners. Some were sprawled on stained mattresses, while others had only the hard floor as their cushion and newspapers for blankets.
And—oh God—the smell. She grimaced. A mixture of rotten eggs and sewer. Why hadn’t she noticed it before?
Garbage littered the dirt floor as well as broken crack pipes and needles. She tightened her hold on her switchblade, slowly turning as she took in her surroundings. Making sure no threat lurked behind her.
Jonas still loitered at the door, listening. He glanced back at her, his expression grim as he scanned the people in the area. Not exactly his usual spanking-new surroundings. He turned to look back out the door. Did he know those Suits?
He reached for her and she didn’t resist as they left the stench-filled area behind.
The cold air hit her face, relieving her senses of the disgusting odor. With her back against the alley wall, she peered around the corner. No sign of the Killer Suits. She allowed her body to sag.
“What’s going on?” Jonas demanded. “Who are the ‘they’ you were talking about?”
Ana faced him, trying to slip her switchblade into her pocket, but he knocked the knife from her hand. It hit the ground and he reached for it, smoothing a thumb over the flames engraved on the handle.
“Do you know how to use this?” He pressed the release and the four-inch blade slid out.
Her dream—Jonas above her with her weapon dripping with blood—flashed back at her. “Not that it’s any of your business, but I can handle a blade just fine.”
He’d changed clothes since the whipped cream incident. His torso was clad with a black knit pullover and his legs with black acid-washed jeans.
His expression was as dark as his clothes. “You could have slit my throat.” He retracted the blade.
Why the hell did she feel like she did something wrong? He should try running from armed killers and getting hauled into some dark alley by a mysterious stranger. “Next time don’t grab me out of nowhere like that. How did you know what was going down, anyway?”
His gaze flickered. “What was going down? You saw me. When I spotted you with Dolini, I came back looking for you.” His jaw twitched as he handed her the switchblade. “And I want answers. Now.”
She slid her weapon into her pocket. “Look, Saven—”
“You just used my first name a minute ago, Ana.”
Damn it, he was right. The man had a knack for breaking down her personal barriers. First he’d left her no touching rule in the dust, and now she thought of him on a first name basis. Not good. “Whatever,” she said. “I’m not answering any of your questions until you tell me how you knew I was running from those Suits.”
“What Suits? You were running like some scared rabbit and I ducked into this alley until I could reach you. When I heard someone, I pulled you out of view. I had no idea what kind of trouble you’d found this time.”
A lie. Had to be. Finding her just in time couldn’t be a twist of fate. Or could it? She just didn’t know. And there was no way she could discuss it more without blowing her cover.
“You didn’t hear gunshots?” she couldn’t help asking.
His hands snatched her shoulders so fast she didn’t have time to react. He hauled her up in the air and shoved her up against the building. The cement bit into her back.
One word squeezed between his clenched teeth. “Explain.”
He loomed close, barely inches away. She wanted to look anywhere else but at him. Because…damn it, she wanted his lips on hers again.
“Put me down, Jonas.”
She couldn’t say what showed on her face. He sighed, closing his eyes. “Ana, tell me what’s going on.” His voice came out low and tired. Opening his eyes again, he gently set her on her feet and stepped back. “I can help you. But you have to let me.” He sounded earnest, sincere. She could almost believe him. She wanted to.
She just couldn’t.
When she didn’t answer, he cursed. “Were the Suits after Dolini? And you were caught in the crossfire?”
She didn’t deny it. “Dolini wasn’t so lucky.”
“He’s dead.” He cursed.
“Was he a friend?”
“Not even close.” He fastened his eyes on her again. “What was he to you? How did you know him?” A solid grip took her arm. “You’re not leaving until you tell me.”
She looked away. They stood at the edge of a confined path between two buildings. Cars passed along the street. No way would she outrun him. No way could she tell him the truth. She shook her head more in frustration than denial.
“You’re coming with me, Ana, and we’re going to have a serious talk.” His tone left no room for argument.
Anger blurred her vision. That’s what he thought. She yanked her arm away and rounded on him. “You can’t tell me what to do. I say what happens in my life. Do you understand?
Me
.”
Now he shook his head, his expression bewildered. “What the hell are you talking about?” His hands raised, fingers spread, and he took a heavy breath. “I’m not trying to do anything but get answers. I need your help, Ana. I need to find out what you know about Dolini.” He looked down at the ground. “Can’t believe this…” After a moment he lifted his gaze. “Dolini’s dead and I need information. I’m asking for your help.”
A tension showed around his eyes, as if asking for help wasn’t an easy task at all.
She shut her eyes, running both her hands through her hair. She knew how hard it could be to ask someone for something. Hell, that was why she never asked for help from anyone. But they both needed answers. Only, the answers she needed meant life and death to her.
“I don’t know much about him.” She looked up at him. “That’s the truth.”
“Let’s start with what you do know.”
“What? Other than he was a sleaze, liked young girls, and is now a dead dealer?”
“What did you want with him?”
“I can’t say.”
“Damn it, Ana. You mean you
won’t
.”
She lifted her eyebrows. “Does that mean you’re willing to tell me why you want to know so much about a known drug dealer?”
He expression went blank.
“Everything okay here?” They both turned. A beat cop. Neither of them had heard his approach.
“Everything’s fine,” Jonas said.
The cop looked at Ana. “Is that right, miss?”
She pasted a smile on her face, hoping she didn’t look as exhausted as she felt. “Couldn’t be better.”
“Good,” the cop said. “We’ve had reports of shots fired near this area. Either of you know anything about that?”
Jonas went still. “Sorry, officer. I didn’t hear anything.” He looked at Ana, his face revealing none of the tension of a moment ago. He had to be wondering if she would report the shooting.
“Actually,” she said. “I did hear shots.” A muscle twitched in Jonas’s jaw. “In fact, I saw the shooters.”
“Run it by me again,” Sarge demanded.
“I told you,” Ana said, irritated beyond belief. She’d been through her story five damn times already. Sarge was getting on in the age department, but she didn’t think his memory was deteriorating—yet.
“Dolini didn’t have a name. He said they’d contacted him through his phone or sent someone to meet him. They were about to have a meet in that alley, where he took me. He gave me a sample tablet.”
Her eyes veered to the pill sitting on his desk before they settled on him again. “The subtle approach didn’t work so I helped him along. After I got as much as I could about the shipment coming in by boat, and found out that he knew Johnson, the Suits came in the SUV. Dolini was shot and I ran. Saven grabbed me and questioned me about Dolini. I didn’t tell him anything. I gave the cop a description of the Suits but I didn’t tell him that I was involved. Then I hitched a ride to the nearest precinct. That’s it. End of story.”
“And I told you no body was found.”
Ana sprang to her feet, her chair scraping against the floor. “So what now? I’m supposedly making this up? I’m telling you,
Dolini is dead
. He had a bullet in his chest.” She paused, frustrated. Sarge had sent an investigator to the scene, but the Suits had taken the body and their bullet casings. Samples of blood had been found by the investigator, but unless they had Dolini’s DNA, nothing would come of it. “They took Dolini with them,” she said. “There’s no other explanation.”
“No license plate. No decent description of the supposed killers, other than they were white, slim, tall, wearing suits and carrying guns. Real helpful, Switch. That narrows it down to ten million American men. Why do I even bother teaching you guys procedure when nothing sticks in that little brain of yours. You’re all damn useless!”
Her hands fisted at her sides. “Go to hell!”
He rolled his shoulders and turned away. “Lady, I’m already there.”
His words put a hitch in her stride.
“Anything new on Saven?” he asked.
She didn’t answer quickly enough. Sarge turned back, piercing her with his gaze. Did he practice that look in the mirror? “I overheard him talking on his cell about an employee of his recently killed.”
“So?”
She sat back down. “The dead guy was named Stevie, and he’d been shot.”
Sarge ran his thumb and forefinger down his mustache.
“Could all be a coincidence,” she heard herself say.
Sarge cocked his head, eyeing her with suspicion. “A coincidence that he’s the right-hand man to one of our suspects? Coincidence that he was in the same area as Dolini when you first met up with him?” His voice rose. “And don’t forget about the coincidence of him saving your ass from being shot!”
When would she learn to keep her mouth shut? “At least now you’re admitting I really was shot at, right?”
“Brooks and Saven are leading suspects in this investigation. Don’t feed me any coincidence bullshit. You got a problem with this op, Switch?”
“No,” she bit out. Only to herself could she admit that whenever she was near Jonas her priorities shifted. “Maybe I’m not the right person to follow the Saven angle.”
“What the hell does that mean?”
“It means, maybe Digit should have a go at him. See what she can find out.”
“You’re in, Switch. We can’t get better than that.”
The old hardass was right. There was no way she could avoid Jonas. No way to avoid this op. She was in deeper than she ever wanted to be.
“What the hell is Saven’s interest in the X dealer,” he murmured.
She’d been wondering the same thing. “It’s a possibility he’s not the source expecting the shipment and is trying to find out who is.” When Sarge stared at her, she went on. “Or he
is
behind the shipment and is trying to stop any rumors about it. Another scenario, he’s interested in recruiting dealers to get the X out.”
“These are the answers you need to find out.”
She tossed her hair out of her face. “I’m doing my best.”
“Do better.” His eyes lowered to her shirt for the first time. He shook his head, but didn’t comment on the NARC logo. “Tonight you and Jax are assigned to check out Skates’s lead at the Ink Dome.”
Skates
. She shifted. “Has he been in?”
“No, he’s AWOL.”
Crap. “I told you he’s sick.”
“Not sick at his residence.” Sarge tapped two fingers against a hand-written address on his desk. “He’s not answering his cell, either.”
“I’ll find him, bring him in.”
“Too late.”
“Bull—” She caught herself. “You never gave me a chance. The kid wouldn’t risk a cell.”
He stared at her. “I gave both of you enough chances. His location’s been sent out as an APB. This incident is now in your file. After this op, you’re on a month of shit detail for whichever local P.D. wants you.” He walked out of his office and into the meet room, where the team waited.
Numb, Ana stared at the slip of paper sitting on Sarge’s desk. Shit detail translated to undercover bait for the local police department. It could range from prostitution to petty crime. Whatever low-life they were trying to arrest at the time.
Skates, you have some explaining to do
.
Cursing to herself, she rose and grabbed the address, slipping it into her pocket as she followed Sarge out the door.
“All right,” Sarge said to the team. “Here’s what we got. Last night, Digit and Switch found Zero clean. On the ’net, Digit narrowed down a search to a company called Powerfilms that sells porn that’s just this side of being legal similar to Tyler’s interests. It took digging, but she succeeded on coming up with an owner named Sam Pike.