Slay Bells Ring (An FBI Romance Thriller Book 12) (3 page)

Elizabeth was amused.

Callen was simply frustrated.

For some reason, no matter how much he jumped her, the position they did it in, or the time of the day, she still wasn’t pregnant.

It was making him nervous.

For a while, they thought they had pulled it off, but then she was spotting, and he was disappointed.

That was two months ago, and since then, no luck.

Deep down, Callen was worried about how much time he had left. Oh, his swimmers had plenty of life in them, but this was about Ethan.

It was no secret that neither man liked ‘bagging up’ before the big bedroom event, and he feared Ethan would get sick of it or simply forget.

If he got Elizabeth pregnant, Callen would be heart broken.

This was his last shot.

If he couldn’t sire another child, he was pretty sure there would be a hole in his heart.

There was also Lyzee’s contract.

Post pregnancy, they were getting fixed. Yes, that was the cost of this last child. The two men were going in to get their junk altered, so their baby making days were long over.

He shuddered at the thought.

What was even scarier was that his woman had a contract drawn up. Ethan had read it over, trying to find a loophole, but their wife was tricky.

She’d sealed off any avenues.

They were stuck.

It was a huge price to pay, but in Callen’s mind, it was so worth it. A chance to have a daughter with Elizabeth and then shooting blanks?

Yeah.

It was a no-brainer.

He was sold the second it was on the table. Now he only needed this to happen.

So, as a little extra security, while he dressed for the day, Callen prayed to his grandfather. Wherever he was, hopefully, he’d hear Callen’s wish.

“Please knock Elizabeth up.”

It was the wish that would keep on giving, and he knew it. If Callen could have this one thing for Christmas, he’d be good the rest of the year.

Well, most of the year.

Six months.

Three max.

Screw it. There was no way he could keep that promise, so why go there?

As he stared in the mirror, Callen ran his hands over his face. He was going to shave, but then he’d be stuck there a little longer.

No.

He was dashing out of there and heading home after breaking the bad news to the restless Natives. He’d shave later—when he was home.

The thought of hitting the road in the next hour made him happy.

As Callen stood there, he pulled his hair back and braided it down his back. This was a relatively old fashioned council, and if you were Native, you looked and acted like one.

So, he was going to make sure he didn't piss anyone off on his last day.

This was a fine line, and he was walking it.

When he was done with his hair, he took in his handiwork.

Elizabeth did it better, but she was hours away, and he was shit out of luck.

For now, he was on his own.

Besides, the council might overlook his crappy braid since he still had long brown hair, the chocolate colored eyes, and the tan skin of a Native.

Plus, there was his secret weapon.

Tattoos.

Who knew that the chief and the other men would be impressed by the ink on his arms? Apparently, they liked a negotiator who had the markings of a Native brave from long ago.

The second he heard that tattoos were a plus, he raced right out and got another.

The most recent one he’d only gotten his second day there. It was part of Elizabeth’s Christmas present. For his woman, he’d gotten some major ink.

During his down time, as he was missing his Lyzee, he took a picture to the local Native artist.

He tattooed him.

The outcome, if Callen did say so himself, was amazing.

Elizabeth was going to love it.

Ethan was going to have to up his game.

Honestly, this one inking made up for the countless tattoos that his brother had. Callen was about a half dozen behind, but this one was worth at least ten. His entire rib cage was done, and it hurt like a bitch. Callen was convinced that there was no greater pain in the world.

He was hoping Elizabeth would see it and kiss his boo-boos.

Callen grinned as he buttoned his white shirt. That was his plan all along.

It would get him some lip lock time with his sexy woman, and he couldn’t wait.

As he finished dressing, he pulled on the heavy winter coat. He may look like the FBI’s Native Liaison, and someone who rose up above it all, but underneath it all, he was still one of them.

There was a little guilt about leaving.

He came from that exact impoverish upbringing where he was called
‘redskin’
,
‘buck’
, and
‘dirt-worshipper’
by every Caucasian who ever crossed his path. It started when he was integrated into the public school systems, and continued right through college.

That humiliation didn't break him.

It made him, and it created the person he’d become at work.

He couldn’t help but feel bad that he was leaving, but he could always come back after the holiday. It wasn’t like he was bailing on his heritage—just some Native insanity.

Well, it was time to get it over with.

Callen sighed as he opened the front door. Guilty or not, he was getting the hell out of Dodge.

He wasn’t going to stay.

He couldn’t.

As he stepped onto the Rez cabin’s porch, two presents caught his eye.

They were brightly wrapped and sitting there.

It appeared that Santa had delivered them sometime in the night.

He didn't know what to make of them. This was certainly odd. Then again, Elizabeth liked to surprise him with lots of little things like this. He wouldn’t be shocked if she came up with some elaborate holiday game.

That heated his blood.

Maybe this was going to be the beginning of some sexy scavenger hunt.

Yee haw!

Glancing around, Callen took it all in. It had snowed again last night, but the two gifts were untouched by the newly fallen snow. Callen scoped the surrounding area to see if there were any tracks.

There weren’t.

It was beyond odd.

Touching one with the toe of his boot, it slid and felt relatively heavy. As he crouched down, he listened to make sure there was no ticking.

While his woman liked games, he was still a Fed. There was that wariness about the whole thing. If she drove all the way up there, why hadn’t she come in?

Then he saw the note.

‘For Callen.’

It was written across the front in a pretty scroll-like handwriting, and he wasn’t sure what to do. It didn't look familiar, and he knew his woman’s handwriting.

Did she have someone else do it?

Maybe her secretary?

He was torn.

Callen figured it had to be from Elizabeth, so he got ready to read it.

Carefully, he removed the attached envelope, making sure to keep his fingers off the actual paper. He nearly laughed because he was getting a tad bit paranoid.

It wasn’t as if it would blow up. No one knew he was out there working—only his partners and the Natives.

How silly was he?

This job was getting to him. This was more proof he needed the holiday off.

As the creamy note slid out of its protective housing, it smelled rich and expensive.

He was torn.

Pulling the flap back, he was glad it was only a note, and there was no anthrax. When nothing fell from it, Callen stopped stressing it. Focusing on the message, he read it.

‘Callen Whitefox,

Merry Christmas.

You’ve been sentenced to die. Along with you, Elizabeth Blackhawk will be suffering at your side. We’ve left you some presents.

If you don’t get her here to play our game, we will head to your home. It’s a lovely place and with all those kids, I’m sure you wouldn’t want something to happen to them.

That would be a shame.

We would love to meet your two sons and two daughters…

You have twelve hours to get her by your side. If she’s a second late or you try to hide her, be warned.

She’s going to die, and you’re going to watch. Then you’ll die too.

The clock started ticking the second you opened this.

Happy Holidays,

Bonnie & Clyde.

Callen’s heart began pounding in his chest.

He couldn’t believe what he was reading. His first instinct was to open the packages or look around, but he knew better. If this was evidence, so were the boxes.

So, he backed up and went inside.

As soon as he could control the bile rising in his throat, he did the only thing he could.

He called his brother.

This wasn’t the Christmas he thought it was going to be.

Not at all…

Chapter One

FBI West

Tuesday Morning

Ethan had just escaped from his first meeting of the day, and he was glad it was over. Mondays and Tuesdays were brutal. It was back to back conference calls with Gabe, every head Fed in the country, and today… POTUS.

It was nerve-wracking.

To this day, he still couldn’t believe the President of the United States knew him by his first name. Worse yet, he knew his wife.

That was scary. One never knew what she was going to say on a good day, but toss in the president…it was dangerous.

At least now the big meeting was over. Thankfully, it was a good bite out of his day. He couldn’t wait until later in the week. Not only was the holiday coming, but the weekend as well.

He had so much on his mind.

While he and Elizabeth sat in the meeting, listening to the conference call, he was daydreaming. He had Christmas presents to take care of, and his brother had eluded that he’d gone hardcore.

Ethan had to up his game.

Then there was the other reason it was hard to concentrate on work—
Elizabeth
. His wife looked amazing when she rolled into their office. She had an errand to run before work, so they couldn’t drive in together.

When he saw her, Ethan wanted to hold her in his arms. There was something so amazing about having a woman to call your own. He was a lucky man.

Elizabeth was a great partner.

A wonderful mother.

And also so wild in bed that Ethan wanted to keep a fire extinguisher by the mattress to put them out after the explosion. When the three of them rolled around, the sheets melted together.

Yeah, life was damn good.

There was nothing better than an upcoming holiday. It meant food, family, and ‘fun’—of the fornication kind. Ethan couldn’t wait.

All he had to do was get through the day. Maybe later, he could get a little nibble on something sweet.

His girl.

But first, he had to focus on payroll, and then his meeting with the lab staff. After that, his day would be halfway over. Before he knew it, he and Elizabeth would be having lunch.

Not in the office.

No…

Ethan wanted to swing by some sleazy motel and show her what was running through his mind. Since the last case, when the three of them had worked together, he’d been curious.

Callen was always so free spirited, so Ethan wanted to throw caution to the wind. Maybe that wasn’t really his intent. What he wanted was to trap his wife and screw her brains out over a nooner.

Then he could go back to the doldrums of the Federal government.

As of late, there was something different about his wife, but Ethan couldn’t put his finger on it. The more he tried to analyze it, asking her what was up, the more she just looked confused.

Maybe it was his imagination. After all, he tended to lean toward paranoia more than most. His job conditioned him for that.

Instead of dwelling, he was going to abduct his wife and have his wicked way with her.

All the while wearing a freaking condom.

Damn!

He hated them. While he knew why he had to wear one—for his brother’s sake—he still wasn’t happy. They were a pain in the ass. A few times, he’d slid home, only to realize that he’d gone in bare.

There was a freak out from Elizabeth, and it killed the mood. Honestly, when he agreed to it, Ethan had hoped that she’d be pregnant by now.

They were spending a small fortune on protection. For a happily married man, that just wasn’t right.

He missed taking his woman for a bareback ride.

As his body tensed at the memories, Ethan forced himself to think about anything else. That was definitely not appropriate, and he should know better.

She was the mother of his children.

He was a gentleman.

A horny one.

That was putting it mildly. It was like the Garden of Eden. They couldn’t have that one thing, and that made it all the more alluring. He wanted to sin in the worst way, but he couldn’t.

Ethan had made a promise.

Once he got that taste of the deliciously sinful fruit, there would be no holding back, and he knew it.

So, condoms it was.

As he glanced up at the clock, he figured there was enough time to grab a coffee before his next meeting. Maybe if he brought his wife one, he could lure her into sitting in his lap. It seemed like eons since she had perched there.

Halfway to the door, his desk phone buzzed.

“Mr. B, are you busy?”

He pushed the intercom button. “No, Ginny, I’m not. What’s up?”

“Your brother is on line two, and he sounds worked up. You know how Mr. W gets all hyper when he’s in a rush?”

“Yes.”

“Well, he’s borderline hysterical, and he said it was important—even if you were on your call with POTUS.”

Ethan’s heart skipped.

Callen knew how important those meetings were. He wouldn’t interrupt them unless it was a dire emergency.

There were only three things in the world that would fall under that category.

Their kids.

Their father.

Their woman.

Ethan knew the latter was safely in her office, likely raising hell.

So that meant…

Ethan raced for his desk in a panic. Callen was supposed to be on the Rez a few hours away, dealing with some rowdy Natives. He hoped nothing bad had happened to him.

“Cal, are you okay?” he asked, taking a seat in his chair.

“No! Jesus! No, I’m not!”

Immediately, Ethan wanted to freak out, but he tried to stay calm. His heart was thundering in his chest. In his head, he was working out all the possible scenarios.

“Take a second to breathe and tell me what happened to you.”

“We don’t have time!”

His hand shook as he tried to hold the receiver steady. Callen had never sounded this freaked out. The last time he was this worked up, it was when he asked to borrow a jet, and he brought Cat home.

“I need you to tell me what’s wrong.”

Callen started at the beginning, telling his brother about the two packages on the front porch of the cabin he was renting. Then he told him there was a note.

“You didn't touch it, did you?”

“You know I did! That’s why I’m scared shitless. I wouldn’t be this freaked out if something bad wasn’t happening.”

Ethan tried to get him to slow down.

“Tell me like you’re reporting to Gabe, not your brother.”

It worked. Callen went from panic mode to work mode, proving the FBI was wearing off on him too.

Callen took a deep breath. “I opened the note, and there was a message.”

“Read it to me.”

Callen did just that, and it still appalled him the second time through.

As his brother uttered the words, Ethan Blackhawk’s bowels went to ice. He was so completely blindsided that he couldn’t form a sentence.

“What do we do? If we bring Elizabeth here, she’s in the crosshairs of some sicko. If we ignore it, and the twelve hours pass, something may happen to our kids. We can’t win this one, Ethan, and I want to be sick.”

He wasn’t alone.

Ethan wanted to throw up.

Neither scenario was acceptable to the men, but then again, their hands might be tied on this one.

“You didn't open the boxes, did you?” he asked.

“Fuck no! I’m not a newbie. Nothing good ever gets delivered with a note like that. For all I know, it’s a bunch of cut up kittens. I’m in the cabin, and I’m man enough to admit that I’m ready to weep. This is really bad. We’re stuck, and either side is a trap.”

He was well aware.

This was the problem with being with a badass woman who fought for justice. Sometimes, the lines blurred, and it came for her.

This wasn’t new.

They’d had someone call Elizabeth out before, and it didn't end well. It culminated with him being abducted, tortured, and buried alive. Ethan barely survived.

It wasn’t his fondest memory, and he sure as hell didn't want a repeat of that with Callen on the losing side of the battle.

They wouldn’t survive. Their family barely stayed intact when he went under.

“Shit! What do we do, Ethan?”

His hands were pretty tied at that moment. If he told Elizabeth, he knew what would happen. She’d go charging into it like a bull in a china shop. There was no freaking way she would let Callen sit there with a bull’s-eye on his chest. She couldn’t do it.

That would risk her.

If he didn't tell her, and something happened to their innocent kids, or Wyler, she’d be so angry too.

They couldn’t risk the family because of what they did for a living.

He had to own this one.

“We tell her. We promised no lies, and we vowed to fight any more demons head on. There’s no other way, Cal.” Ethan heard the hiss of his brother’s breath leaching from his tightly clasped lips.

He wasn’t happy.

Well, honestly, truth be told, neither was he.

Only, someone had to make the choice. At least this way, they could keep Elizabeth protected and be by her side. Ethan also had to find a way to protect their kids. Callen would be myopically focused on their woman, Elizabeth would be worried about the family, so Ethan had to pick up the slack.

It was his duty.

There was one shot at keeping them all safe.

They were getting put into protective custody if he had anything to say about it. Their home had been compromised, and that was a very bad thing.

“Are you sure we have to let her do this?” Callen asked. “Why do I feel like we should hide her and the kids away and handle this on our own?”

“Because that’s my gut too, but you have to throw in the Elizabeth wildcard. If we don’t tell her…”

He was well aware.

There’d be two dead bodies for the holidays.

THEIRS.

“Okay. What should I do?” Callen asked.

“Stay inside, keep your gun close, and shoot anyone who comes near you. I’m not taking any chances. We can’t risk you either.”

“The boxes?”

Ethan agreed with Callen’s assessment. There wasn’t going to be anything good in them. He’d been a Fed too long to be that naïve.

“The only time boxes ever turn up with a note like that, it’s because there’s something unpleasant inside them. If this is a killer, calling her out, then there’s probably something to keep her in the game.”

Callen knew what that meant. “Shit!”

“Yeah, this is going to be the insult to get her to play along. Since they knew you were there, and that you and Elizabeth have a relationship, they’ve been watching her. They’ve studied us. They know that we’ll stick.”

That made Callen sick.

“They’re betting that once she opens them, she’s going to be pissed. This hunter has studied his prey, and it’s our wife.”

He rolled his neck, and there was an audible crack. “Jesus, I’m scared for her.”

So was Ethan.

“Don’t touch the boxes. With the jet, we can be there in about one hour. We have to get the team ready to go, and then we’ll take off.”

“You’re bringing everyone?” Callen asked.

“Yeah, we can fly them home if it’s a prank, but we’re better safe than sorry on this one. If we have someone playing a sick game, then I want to be ready for it. We have to hit the ground running on this note.”

Callen knew he was right.

“At least with a full team there, she’s surrounded,” Callen offered, trying to find the silver lining in this whole shitfest.

It wasn’t easy.

Someone was threatening their family.

Their woman.

Their wife.

“Yeah, you’re right. What gear did you bring with you?” Blackhawk asked.

Callen glanced across the room to where his bags were sitting. “I have my Kevlar, my piece, and my electronic watch tracker. I didn't bring riot gear. I thought this would be some mediation—not our wife being stalked by some lunatics who like to deliver early Christmas presents.”

“Turn on your tracker. In case something happens, I want to have a way to find you.”

The words made Ethan sick, but he had to make sure they were said. They had to plan for every worst case scenario going forward.

Callen pushed in the stem on his watch. The dial made a tick sound, and he knew he was live. “Okay. I’m good.”

“I’m going to tell Elizabeth, and you need to hang in there. Can you do that?” he asked.

Callen locked the door to the cabin and began pulling on his Kevlar. “Yeah, I can. Be safe, Ethan. You keep an eye on her until you get here. Don’t let anything happen to our wife. Don’t worry about me. I’m expendable. She isn’t.”