“They call her the Chameleon,” Ian mused. “She has a different look for every job. The scar in Bolivia was real, by the way. Homeland Security paid to have it put in place and they paid to have it repaired after the mission. She’s low-key, normally in watch position only, but the file the senator showed us on her is scary, dude. Real scary.”
Ian’s tone wasn’t in the least intimidated. It was—anticipatory.
“Any suspicions which guest at the party was Judas?”
Ian stared at the wall across the room, his gaze thoughtful. “The message he sent says the spy was there. Macey is working through the guest list looking for our friendly mole. He’ll tackle Judas later, I suspect.”
Ian crossed his feet slowly. “We head back to Atlanta in the morning, as per the senator’s orders. With the Porter girl in place, me on the other side, and you in the condo with Emily, he believes she’ll be safe enough at home. I think he’s a fool, but that’s just between the two of us.”
“The only way to eliminate the threat is to run with her,” Kell said thoughtfully.
“Reno pointed that out.” Ian nodded. “But, as Macey said, that will alert the Fuentes mole that we’re closing in on him. And Macey is closing in. That boy is a whiz on the computer.”
&
nbsp; Ian’s ruined voice, dark, serrated, was filled with mockery.
Rage beat at Kell’s head before he forced it back. He forced himself to think logically. If he ran with her, they would always be running. Fuentes saw it as a sign of weakness, as cutting out of the game, and it would be sure to enrage him. At this point, they had no choice but to use the hand dealt to them and make certain he didn’t win.
“If we catch his spy, then the threat against your woman is gone.” Ian shrugged. “That’s all that matters.”
“I want things in place so I can run if I have to,” Kell gritted out. “Fuentes isn’t touching Emily, Ian. I won’t let this happen.”
Ian nodded slowly as he rose to his feet. “Get some sleep, dude. We’re taking a Navy flight back to Georgia and a secured SUV back to the condo. Her last party is in three days’ time and Judas’s message reported that all players will be in place there as well. If we find him, we save your woman, and we find Nathan.”
God, Nathan. He hadn’t thought about that. The information none of them could believe, but it had come with a picture, with proof. Nathan Malone, the SEAL believed killed during Emily’s rescue, was alive. Alive but near death and under the control of the spy known as Mr. White.
“Arrange a meeting with Kira when we get back to Atlanta,” Kell ordered. “I want her information and I want to know her backup plans.”
Ian nodded before pausing. “I saw you talking to your grandparents,” he said then.
Kell froze. “I have no grandparents.”
“Whispers were sweeping around the party. Interesting little rumors about the New Orleans Beaulaines and their missing grandson. An heir to two of the largest fortunes in the nation. That would be a hell of a position for a SEAL to be in. We live a dangerous life.”
“Drop it.”
“Blood is thicker than water, my friend,” Ian murmured. “Sometimes, a man has to own up to the past and everyone’s mistakes within it. Some things, you don’t just throw away.”
Kell stared back at him silently, coldly.
Ian lifted his shoulder dismissively. “Just thought I’d mention it. Catch you at daylight, bro.”
Kell rose from his seat on the mattress and headed for the closet as Ian left the bedroom. He finished hanging his dress uniform neatly in its protective covering, leaving it for now. From the floor he pulled free the duffel bag he had carried to Atlanta with him and checked it quickly.
Everything he needed was there. Cash, alternate identifications, a change of clothes, weapons, and ammo. Always prepared. He was always prepared. Until he met Emily.
He hadn’t been prepared for what she would do to him. How she would make him feel.
She made him feel things he had never believed he could feel, even after Tansy. The love he felt for Emily went so deep, was tangled so tight around his heart and soul that he wondered if he would survive if anything happened to her.
It was damned scary. The time spent with her had been so short. And yet she had a hold on him that he couldn’t have expected.
His Papère Beaulaine had warned him once that Beaulaine men, they loved fast, loved hard, and they loved forever. That when a Beaulaine male found his woman, he knew instantly she would change his life forever.
And Kell had scoffed. He had been young. He had been too arrogant. Too certain that no woman would ever fill that much of a man. And his grand-père had smiled. That quiet, knowing smile of his that Kell saw as an elder’s acknowledgment that young men will be young men. That they’d always scoff at the wisdom of their elders.
God, he had missed that old bastard. As hard as the betrayal of his parents’ disowning him had been, his grandparents’ refusal to take his side, to help him, had hurt even more. His papère had been his hero. His grand-mère an angel.