Chapter 9

The storm broke sometime during the night. Rain and wind and thunder.

But Evangeline slept peacefully beside him. In her sleep, at least, she trusted him. He hadn't been kidding when he'd told her they wouldn't be separated until Taber was caught. She'd only looked slightly panicked as they'd stood on opposite sides of the bed, staring down at the silk-covered space between them. He'd always admired her courage.

As for him, sleeping beside Evangeline was purgatory. He deserved the punishment. He was sure of it. He'd given up on any semblance of sleep and lay still on his back, staring up at the ceiling and watching the play of shadows as lightning lit the night sky. His sweats and T-shirt scratched against his skin, and even though the windows were closed he could feel the humidity from the storm outside.

They were in the room he usually stayed in whenever he came to visit Robert, at the opposite end of the wing from Evie's bedroom. He didn't stay there often, but when Nadine had been alive she'd always made sure he felt at home.

The bedroom sat at the corner of the house and had two banks of windows—one that faced the gardens in the side yard and another that faced the ocean. There was no balcony, but the windows opened and it was an easy hop onto the roof if an escape needed to be made. He'd already made sure he'd left the window unlocked and ropes anchored to the roof if they needed a quick getaway.

The fan whirred lazily overhead, the noise seemingly loud between the rumbles of thunder. His senses were primed. Palm trees scraped against the windows and the wind howled with fury.

There'd been no updates from Atticus or any of the agents on lookout. Not that he'd expected there to be. Taber had to get from Dallas to Florida. That was going to take a little time, depending on what mode of transportation he used. But he could be there as early as sometime that day or as late as tomorrow or the next day if there were no more stops to make along the way.

A crack of thunder followed by a flash of lightning so bright he thought it hit the house sounded, and a loud crash and glass breaking came from somewhere close by.

He rolled out of bed, grabbing the weapon he'd had under his pillow, and he shook Evangeline awake, keeping a hand over her mouth so she wouldn't make any noise. The whites of her eyes were bright as she stared at him in sleepy confusion.

"Ssh," he said, putting a finger to his lips.

She nodded and he let her go, and he gestured for her to get low on the ground and keep cover. She shook her head and opened the drawer of the bedside table, pulling out a Glock in matte black. He raised his eyebrows because he hadn't seen her put it there, but he knew she could shoot as well as any agent. One of the perks of being Robert Lockwood's daughter.

He could stand there and argue with her to stay put, but it'd just be wasting time. So he narrowed his eyes and moved in close so she could hear him.

"Stay close and stay behind me," he said. He waited until she nodded in agreement and then headed to the bedroom door.

The knob was cool beneath his touch and he opened the door slowly so he could peek into the hallway. The wind howled and there was an incessant banging somewhere down the hall.

He moved with precision, his bare feet silent against the cool marble floor of the hallway. Evie shadowed close behind him, her steps as silent as his. Robert had made sure she received as much training growing up as his agents, maybe more so, and he trusted her to have his back. They moved to the room next door and he opened it, clearing the area quickly, and then he closed the door behind him.

They repeated the motions twice more as they made their way down the long hallway. And then they finally stood in front of Evangeline's door. The wind and banging were louder now, but he'd had to make sure the other rooms were clear first before bursting into Evie's room looking for battle. People died because of their impatience.

There was resistance as he tried to open the door—the wind pushing against it—but he cleared the entryway and stayed to the perimeter of the room as he searched for any threats. But it was pretty clear what had happened. The rug and bed were soaked through with rain and a large tree limb had broken through the French doors. One of the doors banged against an armoire, and shards of glass rattled in the frame.

"Well this is a mess," she whispered, lowering her weapon.

He moved to the balcony and crept around the edges, but it was impossible to see but a few inches in front of his face with the heavy rain.

He moved to the bathroom for a last look, checked the closets, and under the bed, but there was no one there but the two of them.

"I guess it's a good thing you weren't sleeping here tonight," he said, looking at the sharp glass on the bed.

"I'm trying not to think about that part," she said, her eyes transfixed.

"We're going to need plastic bags and duct tape," he said. "We'll clean up what we can and then seal this room off. It's an even more vulnerable entry point now."

"The housekeepers have a supply closet at the end of the hall," she said, looking down at her bare feet. "We should probably put on shoes."

"Yeah," he said. "Let me call this in. You put on some shoes. I saw some sneakers in the closet over there."

"What about you?" she asked.

"Come on," he said. "I don't want to leave you here alone. We'll grab the supplies on the way back."

He made the call into headquarters and gave a status update while he slipped his feet into his own shoes. The bad news was the weather had sent all the agents on watercraft to shore for safety. Lockwood's closest neighbor was out of the country, and the agents had set up a command post in the guesthouse. The problem was they were relying solely on the interior cameras and sound since their visibility was nonexistent around the perimeter of the house.

They found oversized trash bags and duct tape and headed back to the room. It was wet, messy work, and they were both soaked to the skin in minutes as they pushed the tree limb back outside.

"We need to soak up some of this water before we put up the plastic," she said. "Nothing will stick."

"We need to get the glass out of the way first. Then we can dry things off without cutting ourselves to pieces." He held up his arm so she could see the shallow gash that had sliced him while they'd been moving the limb.

"You have control issues," she said, putting her hands on her hips.

He squared off with her. "If I have control issues then you have common sense issues. Good Lord, Evie, stop trying to fight me on every issue and start working with me."

They worked in silence for several minutes, picking up the largest pieces of glass and knocking out some that was hanging dangerously from the French doors. Evie came in with towels to soak up the water from the walls and floor, and then they spread the trash bags taut across the open space and secured them until it was completely covered.

"Say I start working with you for real," she said once they were finished. "Different than this afternoon. More. Then what happens? Do I wait and wonder whether or not you're going to use what you know against me? Say I do something you don't like on a job and then you've got the power to blackmail me with my past. That doesn't seem like a fun way to live."

"Nope," he said, his heart pounding in his chest with a combination of frustration and anger. She was driving him crazy. "You'd have to learn to trust me. Plain and simple. Just like I'd have to trust you not to ever go back to the old ways. To be a team player instead of looking out only for yourself. You do the jobs we do and everyone relies on each other. None of us have time to question whether or not we might get stabbed in the back by a team member. So it seems like a pretty even trade from where I stand."

"Except your trust, or lack thereof, won't send you to prison for the rest of your life," she said. "I don't have that luxury."

"You know as well as I do that you've eliminated all traces of the Black Lily. As far as the governments of the world are concerned, she never existed. Sounds familiar to me. My past disappeared too. If we'd both stayed on the crooked path maybe we could have shared a prison cell."

She smiled for the first time. "Just two legends whispered about in the underground. A legacy that will eventually die out altogether. Sounds like a fresh start to me. A way to knock off the rust."

"The work I saw you do today didn't look rusty at all," he said, arching a brow. "It looked like you'd never left the game."

"It's like riding a bike," she said, smirking. "Now if you're done playing in the water maybe we can go back to sleep. We've got work to do tomorrow."

"I like the sound of we," he said. "What changed?"

"I came to the realization that my life is in somewhat of a predicament." She shrugged. "It doesn't look like prison is on my Bingo card any longer. But dying by Taber's hands is still there, and that's not a square I'm looking to win."

"What else is on your Bingo card?" he asked curiously. The tension in the room skyrocketed and he moved closer, as if there were an invisible thread being tugged between them.

"Endless sexual tension and unsatisfied desire," she said cheekily.

He choked out a laugh. "You're something else, Evie."