Chapter 1

"You know, Kian, if you keep hanging out here by yourself, I'm going to start calling you, Waylen."

Kian Fox glanced to his right, flipping off one of his best friends and former teammates, Lane Benning, as the guy sauntered over, handing Kian a beer. "You're just sore because your lady friend turned you down." Kian elbowed Lane in the ribs. "Either you've lost your mojo, or you're still stuck on the mystery woman who made you late to the party."

Lane gave him a shove. "Shut up. There's no freaking mystery woman."

"Right, and Harlan's not over there, brooding, because Raider's teasing him about never having a one-night stand."

Lane looked over his shoulder, chuckling as Harlan rolled his eyes at whatever their other buddy, Raider Torres had said. "Harlan makes it too damn easy. Though, he could loosen up a bit."

Lane motioned to the surroundings. "Even if this wasn't a party for the best CO we ever had, the ranch is impressive enough to warrant a pause."

"You know Harlan. He can't relax until he's talked someone down off the ledge. And with how much booze is going around, I'm not sure anyone's going to be sober enough to need an expert negotiator."

Lane laughed, again. Louder. "I love the guy like a brother, but damn… he's more serious than a heart attack. Speaking of which… Is that your paramedic bag tucked against the bar?"

Kian smiled. Of course, Lane had spotted his medic bag. Lane had been their resident sniper, and nothing slipped past the man. Which was why Kian found it amusing that Lane had all but chucked any form of schedule out the window since they'd all retired six months ago. Always arriving either early or late. Though, after all the years they'd spent planning every detail of a mission down to the second, Kian couldn't blame him.

He shrugged. "Drunk people have a tendency to need medical care. I'm simply being proactive. I like this shirt — I don't want to have to use it to stem the bleeding on some drunk sailor." He smoothed his hand down the front. "I just bought it."

"I can tell. It's very… umm…"

"Stylish? Sexy?" Kian winked at Lane, knowing it would irk the guy. "Awesome?"

"White. It's white and bright and clean. Like, ridiculously clean."

"Shut up."

"So, now's not the time to tell you about that barbecue stain…"

"Nice try, wise ass. But Raider already pulled that one on me, the bastard. Right after he tossed a rock my way yelling, frag out."

"He does have a unique sense of humor. But I'm sure we would, too, if we dealt with bombs all day. I don't care how much he claims it's the safest gig out there, the guy's nuts."

"I don't know… You're the one going on about me wearing a white shirt to a party."

"You brought your medic bag because you thought you'd have to deal with blood, which seems at odds with wearing white. Besides, you haven't voluntarily worn that color since that fiasco in Paris." Lane snorted. "I don't think an inch of your shirt was clean by the time you were done patching up that kid."

"Who tries to skateboard down several flights of stairs in nothing but a pair of shorts?"

Lane smiled, leaning back against the Tiki bar beside Kian. "Who knew old habits were so hard to break."

"You seem to be doing okay. Like I said. You were late. Again."

Lane grinned, but the tension around his mouth belied his apparent happiness. "We all have to do something to adjust. God knows we can't country hop from one adventure to another forever. Which reminds me… What do you think about Hawk and the Brotherhood Protectors?"

Kian glanced over at the man in question. Jace "Hawk" Hawkins. The guy in charge of the newest satellite branch of the Brotherhood Protectors. "He's an ex-SEAL, like us. That's all I need to know. And from what I've seen of the company, it's impressive. All ex-military personnel. State-of-the art gear. And this ranch…"

Kian whistled. "Not a bad place for an office. Probably doesn't hurt his wife's father owns the place."

He eyed Lane. "Should I be reading more into this?"

Lane waved it off. "Just thinking out loud. I know the others are getting antsy. Hard to step back off that ledge, ya know."

"Good thing we've got Harlan, then."

Lane spat his gulp of beer across the grass. "Jackass. I nearly choked. And the last thing I need is you giving me mouth-to-mouth in front of all the ladies."

"Please, I'm a great kisser."

"I'll take your word on that." He nodded at Raider and Harlan. "Looks like it's my turn to tease Harlan about how he'll be going home alone. Do me a favor and get Waylen to chill out and enjoy the party. He's been standing on the fringes for the past hour. He might listen to you."

Kian glanced at his best friend. While he considered all of his ex-teammates brothers, his connection with Waylen often had him wondering if they'd been separated at birth. One of those freaking twin things he'd read about. Because Waylen understood Kian in a way no one else ever had. Knew when he needed space or a firm kick in the ass. And Kian had that same sense about Waylen.

Like now. Just looking at how Waylen scanned the crowd, faking a smile when Harlan and Raider ambled over and started razzing him, Kian knew his buddy wasn't quite ready to chill and kick back the way Lane had suggested. Not that Kian was surprised. Ignoring the fact Waylen was their tech specialist — who often preferred tinkering with his gadgets over chatting it up with a group of people — he'd spent the first seventeen years of his life on the Big Island. Had been dragged away to Chesapeake Bay after his father had died from a sudden heart attack. Both of which meant this homecoming held a mixed bag of feelings for the man.

Though, even Kian had to admit Waylen was edgier than normal. Had been more than a bit preoccupied since they'd touched down at the Kona airport. And Kian had a nagging suspicion this went beyond the unhappy memories. That there were other ghosts haunting the man.

Kian made a mental note to ask his buddy once the party started winding down. Though, with everyone celebrating the retirement of one of the Navy's finest commanding officers, Glenn Gadsden, Kian doubted it would wrap up before the first rays of sunrise crested the horizon.

He took a moment to appreciate the stunning sunset — how the stars were just starting to poke holes in the reds and yellows that chased each other across the sky — when a subtle whop whop whop sounded above the band. He focused on the spot just beyond the trees, smiling at the helicopter lining up the helipad. It wasn't much. Just a small concrete square with perimeter lighting that was large enough to house the machine without disrupting the flow of the land ordisturbing the party.

Though, with enough food to feed several platoons and an open bar, he doubted anything short of one of the volcanos blowing their top would stop the celebration.

He glanced at the horizon, the dark silhouettes like omens against the sky. Thankfully, all three had been quiet since they'd arrived, especially Kilauea — the most likely to put on a show — and Kian hoped it stayed that way. Ever since he'd lost his childhood home to a fire, he preferred not to get too close to any type of flame if he could avoid it, including mountains that spewed lava.

A gust of downwash had him focusing on the chopper, again, as it landed on the pad, the engine immediately spooling down. The rotors were still slowly circling the machine when the far door opened — a pair of dusty boots hitting the concrete a second later. Though, it was the long tanned legs and stunning silhouette that held his attention as the woman made her way around to his side, grabbing some boxes out of the back.

He swallowed, nearly choking on his own saliva because the woman was gorgeous. With sensuous curves, lean muscles and long auburn hair glowing like fire in the setting sun, she reminded him of the images of the goddess Pele hanging in the hotel. And based on how she carried herself, he didn't doubt she was just as fiery.

She must have sensed him staring because she froze, two boxes in her hands, her back to him. She didn't turn — didn't do anything other than stand there for several moments, her head slightly cocked toward him before placing the boxes on the ground then reaching for more.

He should go over — offer to help. Apologize for staring. Not that he'd been solely focused on her looks. Based on how she'd finessed the chopper onto the pad with minimal downwash and barely any sound, she obviously had the kind of skill he'd often witnessed in the military. And he couldn't help but wonder if she worked for Hawk, too. While the guy hadn't mentioned having a dedicated aviation department, it made sense.

Maybe Lane wasn't too far off in suggesting they take a closer look at what the Brotherhood Protectors had to offer because despite having horrible luck with any kind of past relationship, she was definitely the kind of woman he'd chance getting burned for.

A nudge to his shoulder had him spinning — nearly socking Waylen in the chest when his buddy seemingly appeared out of nowhere. Though, Kian had a feeling a bomb could have gone off and he would have been too preoccupied drooling over the pilot to notice.

He wiped his hand across his mouth, just to be sure, before shaking his head. "Jesus, buddy. Don't sneak up on me like that."

Waylen laughed. "I didn't sneak. I walked across the lawn."

"Well, next time make more noise.The band's got it cranked so high the ground's vibrating."

"It's not that loud. And I called your name." Waylen leaned in closer. "Twice."

Well, shit. Now Kian either had to out himself or make up a convincing lie. "I guess I got distracted admiring what Hawk's got going here."

It wasn't a complete lie. He had been wondering if the woman worked for Hawk.

"Can't argue with you there. She's a beauty. Is that a gardenia on her ass?"

"Say what?"

Kian snapped his gaze back to the helicopter, but the pilot was gone, nothing but a couple boxes stacked against the pop-out floats on the skid gear. Though, now that he wasn't laser-focused on the girl, he noticed the large white flower covering the rear section of the fuselage, along with the word Huna written in flowing script just below the mast.

Great. Waylen had obviously noticed him staring and was getting his kicks by stringing Kian along.

He scrubbed his hand down his face, taking a deep breath before eyeing Waylen. "As a matter of fact, it is."

"Maybe the pilot has one tattooed on her backside, too, because it was her ass you were staring at, right?"

"Well, it sure as hell wasn't yours." He took a breath — tried to get the woman off his mind. "You done being antisocial, or are you just taking a break so you can bust my balls?"

Waylen flipped him off. "I don't need a reason to do that. Besides, you know I don't like crowds."

"And I don't like volcanos, and yet, here I am, standing beside Hawai'i's most active one."

"It's easily forty miles away. Hardly right next door."

"Still…" He leaned against the bar, taking another swig. "So, what do you think about Hawk and his setup? Lane says the others are antsy to get back into the fray."

Waylen shrugged, though Kian didn't miss the tightness around his mouth. More of those ghosts, he'd been thinking about earlier. "It's definitely got potential. I know someone who works for the Montana branch, and he's got nothing but great things to say about the Brotherhood and the CEO, Hank Patterson."

"Is that a yes if you were given the chance to join?"

"Maybe. I…" Waylen sighed as he toed the grass, taking a long look around. "I guess I just never considered coming back here to stay."

And there it was. That haunted look in his eyes followed by an obvious shudder. The man was definitely hiding something.

Kian nudged his shoulder. "Which brings up my next point… Are you okay? Because you've been noticeably distant since?—"

A loud rumble cut him off, the eerie sound vibrating through the earth and into his chest, much like the music had. Only this was louder. Stronger. More like a growl from somewhere deep below him. The low resonance shaking anything not nailed down.

Earthquake.

Though, compared to the ones that regularly rattled through his hometown of Anchorage, Alaska, this seemed fairly tame. More of a suggestion of a quake than something that would do any damage.

Until the next one hit.

That one…

The sheer force nearly knocked Kian on his ass as Waylen grabbed his arm — steadied him. The band cut off, a hushed gasp rippling through the crowd as everyone turned to stare at those ominous silhouettes behind them.

Kilauea.

Only, she wan't quiet, now.

Smoke and ash billowed across the violet sky, bleeding all that color into an eerie gray while a crimson glow brightened the growing darkness. What Kian assumed was lava shooting out the top or maybe bubbling over the sides. Regardless, the incredible display sent a deafening silence across the yard.

He gained his balance, shaking his head as more tremors rumbled underfoot. He grabbed his medic bag, then glanced over at the chopper, ready to lend a hand if the pilot had returned and gotten knocked over from the quakes, but the area was still empty. Just those boxes now overturned onto the cement.

He sighed, focusing on the ever-increasing cloud as he held out his hand. "And there goes one of the volcanos, which means you owe me fifty bucks."

Waylen scoffed. "For what?"

"You promised me this would be a lava-free vacation, remember? Said, and I quote, ‘Mauna Loa and Kilauea are sleeping. You'll be fine'."

"You are fine, jackass, and I can't help it if one of the damn volcanos decides to erupt."

"A bet's a bet."

Waylen grumbled as he reached for his wallet, handing Kian a fifty-dollar bill. "No one likes a sore winner, buddy."

Kian grinned, shoving the money in his pocket. "Don't get mad at me because you chose poorly. You should know better than to bet on something you can't control."

"I read the reports. Neither of them were supposed to erupt anytime soon. Though, this new development does complicate things. I think we should find the others."

Kalea, Hawk's wife, was going through the various safety information and trying to keep the guests calm as Kian and Waylen crossed the yard — met up with the rest of their team. They were just discussing their next move, when Lane spotted Hawk and his crew heading for their office in one of the outbuildings behind the house. What looked like a full-scale rescue mission in the making.

A collective nod, and Kian and the others were charging ahead — offering their services, as Hawk ushered them into the office. He launched a map of the island onto one of the monitors just as the radio sparked to life, the first calls for help already coming in.

It didn't take long to thin the numbers as Hawk handed out assignments. Lane was the first of Kian's group to bolt out the door, volunteering to help a woman with a suspected child abduction. Raider and Harlan went next, heading to towns at risk of getting cut off. Twenty minutes into the eruption and only Kian and Waylen were left.

Waylen muttered something under his breath, leaning toward Kian. "Now, I'm getting flashbacks to middle school and always being picked last."

"Shut up. Hawk's just going in order. Maybe he wants the brainy guy to stay behind?"

"So, why are you still here, then?"

"So I can treat your wounds once I kick your ass."

Hawk cleared his throat, eyeing them as he cracked a smile. "You lovebirds done cooing at each other, or should I find someone else to take this call?"

Waylen rolled his eyes as he flipped Kian off. "Where do you need us?"

"In the air, actually. We've got a request for an aerial account of where the lava's heading and how the ash and smoke are impacting the towns and areas both along the south coast and over to the west." Hawk handed them each a camera, nodding at Waylen. "These have multiple video capabilities. Benning told me you're the tech guy, so, I'll assume you can figure it all out. If you can capture as much data as possible, it'll help prioritize which areas need resources, first. Give the geologists some critical real-time data."

Waylen turned his camera over his hands. "I'm guessing you've got us a ride?"

"We deal with a local pilot by the name of Blake Garrett. Haven't found a job she can't handle, yet, including some pretty hardcore rescue calls. The lady's a spitfire. If you hurry, you'll catch her before she takes off. She'll need to circle the volcano, then head south as she makes her way back to Waikoloa. The deputy chief will have an officer waiting at the landing pad she's renting near the resort to take those cameras from you so he can get them to the resident geologists for recommendations. If she's feeling generous, Blake might even fly you guys back, though I'll be sure to have your rental returned if you get stuck."

"Are you sure she's okay to fly in this?"

"She's night and instrument rated and hands down one of the best pilots I've ever met. If I didn't know any better, I'd bet my ass she was ex-military." Hawk gave Waylen a light shove. "Don't worry. She's topnotch. And her helicopter's loaded."

Waylen nodded, holding the door open for Kian to dodge through.

Kian looked at the camera, shaking his head. "Seriously? Out of all the assignments, we get the one that has us circling an active volcano? You planned this, didn't you?"

"Don't be an ass. You'll be fine."

"If we die a fiery death, I'm so haunting you for the rest of your life."

"You can't haunt me if I'm dead, too, Einstein. Come on, before your flower girl takes off."

Kian gave his friend a shove, following him back across the lawn and over to the helicopter. Blake was packing supplies into the passenger seat when they reached the helipad, what looked like a military spec helmet resting on the controls.

Hadn't Hawk commented about how he'd suspected she was ex-military? Though, he'd phrased it as if he knew she wasn't. But judging by the extensive instrument panel and the hoist hanging off the side of the bird, it didn't seem like a tour chopper. In fact, it looked more like the machines he'd ridden in while in the Teams, with harnesses in the back — high grade headsets resting on the seats. Not to mention what he assumed was a collapsed basket tucked under the seats. Everything for those rescue calls Hawk had mentioned.

She didn't even look up, arranging some of the boxes as she talked over her shoulder. "I get all you military types love a good rush, but I promise you… Touring an active volcano never turns out the way you think it will. You'll get a pretty decent show just watching from the yard."

Waylen smirked. "We aren't looking for a tour, Ms. Garrett. Hawk sent us."

Blake stopped fiddling with the last box, pausing to glance at them. And damn, she was beyond stunning. With big blue eyes, symmetrical features and hair a few shades deeper than the red burning a line along the horizon, she had the kind of beauty men crossed the room for.

She arched a brow, giving them both a once-over. "Jace Hawkins sent you?"

"Yes, ma'am. Said you might be willing to lend a hand."

Blake crossed her arms over her chest, looking less than impressed. "Pretty sure I know all of Hawk's men, and I know I've never seen you two before."

Kian stepped up, doing his best not to smile like a giddy teenager. "We don't officially work for the Brotherhood Protectors. At least, not yet. We've only been retired from the Teams for a few months. We're here for our ex-CO's party, but I assure you, we're more than qualified for this kind of emergency."

"You dealt with active volcanos while in the service? Didn't realize the Navy had that kind of division."

He chuckled. If he hadn't been crushing on her before, he definitely was now. "More along the lines of being adaptable. I can call Hawk if you need his verification, but the longer we wait…"

"The sketchier it gets. Trust me, I'm familiar with how Hawk seems to forget he's not the one doing the actual flying. Let me guess… We need to circle the damn volcano, avoiding lava spires and toxic gases, so you two can photograph everything before we head south and fly by a bunch of towns so you can do a risk assessment."

"Sounds about right." He inched closer, inhaling the subtle fruity scent from her skin. "If you think it's safe."

"Safe? It's already dark with the trade winds blowing smoke and ash south around the mountains and over toward the resorts. The exact path we need to take. But seeing as I doubt you'll find another pilot crazy enough to give it a try at this hour, I guess you're stuck with me."

She ran her fingers across her hair, biting at her lip. "But if I think the ash is going to ruin my engines…"

"Whatever you think, Ms. Garrett."

"No one calls me Ms. Garret. It's Blake." She pointed to the rear seats. "Hop in the back."

Kian held out his hand. "Thank you. And I'm Kian, and this is my buddy, Waylen."

She stared at his hand for a moment, looking as if she wasn't quite sure if it was safe to shake it, then slipped her palm against his, giving Waylen an odd raise of her brow. "You might want to wait until we actually make it to Waikoloa before you thank me, but you're welcome. Now, make sure you buckle up. This isn't going to be a pleasure tour."