Swallow (Kindred Book 2) (7 page)

“We have to talk about Sutcliffe,” Grant said. “You and I have to be on the same page. I do not want a repeat of—“

Before she could think about working with him, she needed one answer. “Do you plan to give him the device?”

“You took it from the warehouse,” Grant said. “I haven’t seen it since.”

That answer was an evasion she wasn’t going to let him get away with. “You have the ability to produce more and I’m not naïve to—“

“I have commissioned Winter Chill again,” he said, rising onto his feet, wearing an expression as pissed as hers. “And I’m not ashamed of it, Zara. I still believe in—“

“Oh my God,” she exhaled, having received the answer to her unasked question. She couldn’t work with him. She couldn’t trust him. They were still on opposing sides. “You’re going to pander to him. You’re going to give him what he wants.”

His deep voice became authoritative and brash. “I want him to understand that I didn’t motivate what happened. Why should my position have changed? I believed in Albert then and I believe in him now. I’m going to make sure that he knows that. He and I can do great things if—“

“I think you should go,” she said, taking one determined stride away from him.

This conversation could go no further until she’d consulted with Tuck. She wasn’t ignorant to what Grant was capable of, but she was disappointed, and the weight of that repeated disappointment angered her.

His ease became fury, but she wasn’t afraid of Grant McCormack. “What are you going to do, Zara? Are you going to go running to your savior? Or are you going to make your own decisions? I don’t claim to know how Brodie obtained your loyalty the first time, but I would like to think that you’re working with a clearer head now, that the fog of seduction may have lifted. He made your decisions for you before, now he’s out of the picture, he’s not around to support you. Make your own decisions, Zara, because I believe if you sit down and think about it, you will see the merits of what Sutcliffe and I are planning… Do you remember the lunch we had after I gave you your new car?”

The hush money and the Mercedes. “Yes, I remember.”

“We were happy that day, Zara. You were open and receptive. I could tell that you were warming to my way of thinking.”

Brodie had just screwed her over, she was on her own, and wanted to believe that Grant was capable of more than just destruction. They had been happy that day, but she couldn’t be sure now why that was. She could have been seduced by Grant’s optimism and faith, and now that she didn’t have Brodie at her back, she wasn’t sure that wouldn’t happen again. Having an ally was seductive, being alone felt cold, isolation led to vulnerability, and with her life under threat, the prospect of a partnership was appealing.

He touched her shoulders and his hands skimmed up her neck to angle her face, and when he began to descend, she froze for half a beat before inhaling and turning her head away from what could only have been his attempt to kiss her.

“Don’t,” she whispered. After his hands fell away, she made herself look at him. “I don’t know why you want to kiss me, but it’s not out of lust. You want to recruit me or maybe you just want to hurt Brodie, I don’t know. But I won’t let myself be used.”

Resentment colored his face. “Like he used you,” Grant said with the bite of anger. “That’s what he did, Zara, that’s why he won’t connect with you now. He needed you to do his dirty work, to screw me over, and you relished the opportunity.”

Whatever he might think, she hadn’t rolled over on Grant easily. “I always fought your corner,” she argued. “Even when you didn’t deserve it. That’s what five years together gets you. I won’t see you hurt, but I won’t subscribe to your politics just because we’re familiar to each other, sir.” The title was snide and enflamed his rage.

“You’ll always run back to him, won’t you? Next time you talk to him, don’t forget to tell him I insulted you with a proposition after subjecting you to another trauma. I’m sure he’ll have plenty of negative things to say about me after that.”

Insulted and angry, he slid his hands into his pockets and raised his brows as though he expected her to argue. She tried not to squawk out her displeasure, but she was genuinely offended. “You think that the problems in your fraternal relationship are because of me?” she spat. “You’re the older brother, you have means. You knew where he was, you could’ve sought him out! I didn’t know he existed until a few months ago and I’ve managed to forge a relationship with him. What’s your excuse?”

Trailing his attention down her body, he fixated on her breasts for a moment and his annoyance became something more spiteful. “I don’t have your talents to distract him.”

Implying that she’d used her feminine assets to wow Brodie wasn’t far from the truth. What she hadn’t known was that Brodie had been using her female vulnerabilities to get what he wanted.

Putting her own grievances aside, Zara took a chance to extend an olive branch by proxy. Stepping into him, she ran her fingers down the back of his forearm to take his hand.

“Does it mean something to you?” she asked, moving closer, though she knew that Brodie wasn’t listening, she still felt it necessary to be discreet. “You have both lost family, do you regret not having more of a relationship with your brother?”

“Has he said that?” Grant asked. She sensed his vulnerability shining through. It was typical that Brodie wasn’t even here, yet he was managing to do damage.

Sorry that she’d brought it up, she now had to confess the truth. “He doesn’t talk about things like that,” she said. Grant withdrew his hand. There was nothing else she could do here and she wasn’t about to get into a debate regarding Brodie and his inability to express his emotions. Grant would have to get in line behind her to wait for that day.

“I have to go,” he said, but stayed where he was, as though he was reluctant to leave.

“Sure,” she said. Any support she would offer him wouldn’t extend into allowing him to spend the night. Human compassion brought her awareness to his solitude. She had Tuck and Brodie for support, while Grant had no one, he was all alone. “If you need to talk about Sutcliffe or anything… give me a call.” Maybe that would be enough to ensure he’d keep her appraised of any actions he intended to take with Sutcliffe, but that wasn’t assured.

Spreading his hands, he brought them to his face again and exhaled before he nodded. “You’re a good girl, Zara.”

“Do you want me to walk you down to your car?”

“I’ll be fine,” he said, letting his fingertips touch her cheek. “There is more that we have to talk about.”

She nodded. “On Monday. Let’s get over this weekend first. I think we could both use the space to clear our heads.” That was half of the truth, she had to clear her head and consult with Tuck about how to move forward.

Grant went to the door and she followed him to say goodnight, accepting a kiss on her cheek before he disappeared down the stairs. When she closed the door, she locked it tight and relaxed her weight against it. This apartment was secure and she still had her gun, she was safe here. With intentions of getting a good night’s sleep, she decided to call Tuck tomorrow. He would only rush over if she called tonight and there was nothing to be done this minute.

Zara examined her bruises in the bathroom mirror and made the decision to avoid the manor while they healed. Brodie might not be the most attentive guy these days, but he wouldn’t miss the story her face told, and being in the mood he was, she knew he just wanted an excuse to shoot someone and more murder wouldn’t help with the Sutcliffe situation.

“You don’t have to keep wincing like that every time you look at me,” she said, smiling as she brought coffee to Tuck, who was seated on her couch.

With his arm stretched along the back, he reached over to take the hot mug from her and was already sipping the liquid by the time she came around to sit down beside him. “You’ve got yourself a shiner,” he said. “Now I understand why you wanted to meet here instead of at the manor. If Rave saw that, he’d track down those guys from Purdy’s and take Maverick along for the ride.”

Guilt softened her voice. “I killed the guy who hit me,” she said.

Sleep had eluded her the previous night. Not because she was worried about Sutcliffe and his men coming to look for her, but because she had put a human being down. She had killed someone. Tuck might be impressed, and Brodie would probably be proud. But she couldn’t get over the evolution of her own character. A few months ago, she could never have killed a person. These days, not only did she carry a gun, she had now used it in defense of herself.

Zara was smart enough to understand that Elvis would have molested her, and maybe killed her too, if she hadn’t pulled the trigger. But concepts of compassion and morality made her modest about what she’d done. She wanted to play it down and forget about it, because she wasn’t sure how to process her transformation into a murderer. Brodie would be able to tell her how he coped with taking life. She wanted to ask him about the first life he’d extinguished to find out if he’d struggled to accept what he’d done.

“Have you killed before?” she asked Tuck.

This was a conversation she should be having with her love, but she wasn’t going to add to his burden. “You’re not truly a part of the Kindred until you have,” Tuck said. “Now you know that you can defend yourself, defend the circle. It’s a shock to the system the first time. You’ll get used to it.”

She didn’t know if he meant she’d get used to living with what happened, or if by killing more people, it would get easier to take life. There wasn’t time to analyze ethics. She had to cast off her turbulent emotions and focus on what they were facing.

Clearing her throat, she tried to be objective. Working with Tuck was easy, but they were at a disadvantage being just the two of them without the input of Art or Brodie. She was so much of a rookie that Tuck was practically working alone. But she wanted to prove that she could handle this and that she could be useful. Being a part of the Kindred was a massive learning curve, but her relationship with Brodie depended on her being able to absorb and act.

“Grant said it was Sutcliffe. That he was sick and now he’s well.”

“We knew it wasn’t over,” Tuck said. She was impressed that he could hear such unnerving news while remaining calm. “But why would he come after you in—“

“I don’t know. They wanted to ransom the hostages.”

Considering this, Tuck nodded. “Taking prisoners forces the media to broadcast his message and lines his pockets. War is expensive,” he said.

“We have our work cut out for us,” she said. “Grant says that Sutcliffe hasn’t changed his plans just his timetable… and I don’t think that Grant is going to put up any resistance.”

Tuck’s concern made his brows lower and she couldn’t blame him for being shocked and angry. But they shouldn’t have expected anything else. The Kindred had attempted to subvert Sutcliffe’s plot by cutting him off. Without Game Time, his ability to hurt innocent people lessened. Now she could see that all they had done was delay what might turn out to be inevitable.

“Does Grant intend to fulfill the contract?” Tuck said.

Even though ratting Grant out would mean his return to full adversary status, she nodded, because hiding the truth could cost lives and he’d done nothing to earn her clemency. “He’s already commissioned a new Winter Chill project.”

“Where and how—“

“I don’t know,” she said, taking Tuck’s drink from him to put both that and hers aside. “We have the original schematics, but there could have been copies. I can search the CI systems if you want me to, but I would guess Grant won’t be as obvious about leaving breadcrumbs.”

“He may fund it privately,” he muttered and she nodded.

“He has the capital to set something up without leaving a trail. But I would like it if… maybe you could see if—“

“I’ll do what I can,” Tuck said. “I can try to find out where the money is being routed, but… it’s possible he’s split up production this time. That’s what I would do. He can have the parts manufactured in certain places and bring them together to assemble the final product.”

Encouraged that they were forming a plan, she could feel the heat of her blood increase. “Then that’s when we need to get involved. We can destroy the device and—“

“How many times are we gonna do this?” Tuck asked, cutting her off to voice his opposition to her suggestion before she could finish the thought. “We’re not gonna scare them off by tossing a couple of grenades in. We have to take a different approach…”

For the longest time, he didn’t say anything and she stayed quiet, giving him peace to try to come up with a better solution because he was right. Going over the same plan again and again wouldn’t work. Grant wanted to supply Sutcliffe who wanted to right the wrongs he perceived in the world using force. If Art were here, he would guide the men through making their plan. But with him gone and Brodie uninterested, Tuck had full autonomy and responsibility for whatever they ended up doing. The buck would stop with him.

“Ok,” Tuck said. “I need you to tell me everything that you know, then I’m going to the manor to use the systems there. I’ll see if I can track down where Grant is building the device.”

“But I thought you said—“

“Knowledge is power,” he said. “We’re not gonna use a direct strike like we did in Quebec. I’ll talk to Falcon and I’ll talk to Raven—“

“Do you think he’s in his right mind? I mean… will he be helpful?”

Tuck’s brows came down in a disapproving frown. She hadn’t meant to insult him, or to insult Brodie. But she was worried about Brodie and didn’t want to add any pressure to his situation when he was struggling to cope with life as it was. The girlfriend in her wanted to protect the man she loved and keeping him in the dark would prevent him from having to face the man responsible for Art’s death.

“I’m not gonna cut him out of the loop,” Tuck said. “It’s important for all of us to be honest. We have to be able to trust each other. We don’t have the chief kicking our asses into line.”

In the interests of honesty, she hazarded the question that she knew posed a risk of distracting her if she didn’t admit her insecurities. “You’re telling me that you’re not going to take a direct strike… but you didn’t tell me about Quebec either.”

“I’m not lying to you,” he said, tilting his head and with an open shrug, he relaxed. “I don’t have any reason to. We’re friends and I care about you, but… I’m not interested in getting you into bed, or worried about your judgment. What reason would I have not to tell you if I did plan to go and kill these guys, if I can even find them? Taking out Winter Chill didn’t prevent the disaster, it just slowed it down. No, let them build their product. We have one major advantage now that we didn’t have before.”

“What’s that?”

He leaned closer. “We have the original devices. If Falc is up for a challenge, or a bit of sport, we’ll invite him over to reverse engineer the thing. Maybe with a bit of tweaking we can find its weaknesses and ways to sabotage it, if we have to. Like I said, I’ll talk to him. Falcon is the smartest motherfucker you’ll ever meet. He’ll know what to do.”

“It has a kill switch,” she said, spurred by optimism. “I heard Grant and Kahlil talking about it in his office one time. They didn’t say how to activate it. But Raven confirmed it. He said technicians spoke of one, but I don’t think he knew if it was incorporated because he said it creates a vulnerability that hackers could take advantage of.”

Tuck’s smile came before he patted her hand. “Then we’re already a shoe in. Falcon and I will be able to figure out how to take the device down.”

As much as she trusted Tuck’s capability, and Falcon’s too—despite never having met the man—she was aware that for sabotage to be viable, they had to allow the device to be positioned and prepared to do irreparable damage, and that was a major risk. All it would take was a tiny delay or a smidge of confusion, and people could be subjected to the gas meant to kill them. But she couldn’t argue with Tuck and try to coerce him into taking a safer route when no plan was set in stone yet, and she could offer no alternative.

“And me?” she asked. “What do I do?”

“What you are doing,” he said. “Stay close to Grant and do your best to monitor his communications with Sutcliffe. We can’t kid ourselves that he’s gonna trust you like he did before, but you’re still close and if he suddenly goes on a trip or has a secret meeting, we’ll know to be on standby. If you can, we’ll ask you to bug the office, maybe his clothes… But we’re getting ahead of ourselves.”

Maybe he’d noticed the look of dismay crossing her face. She still cared about Grant, despite his obvious failings, and she understood why they had to take such measures. But she wasn’t sure how good she would be at planting a bug on someone without them spotting her doing it.

Tuck questioned her again about what happened at Purdy’s and about what Grant had told her. Once he was clear on all the details, he bid her farewell and told her he would be in touch. Her assignment for now was to act normally. She would be happier to have an assignment that allowed her to go to the manor to try to find shelter or comfort with her love.

For now, she had to avoid Brodie, at least until her bruises faded because his mood had been so volatile that no one could predict how reliable he would be during an op or how he’d react when he found out his brother had stood by while she was hurt.

Work on Monday started off the same as every other day. She went about her business while trying to put the work of the Kindred to the back of her mind. The key to appearing benign was to go through the motions like there was nothing else going on in their lives.

Pretending to be oblivious became harder when she collected a contract from her printer, slid it into a leather binder, and carried it to Grant’s office. All she needed was a signature and she didn’t expect that there would be any cause for them to address the unpleasantness.

Except when she went into Grant’s office, she saw that he wasn’t as alone as she’d thought. The guest seated opposite Grant twisted in his chair to examine her and on registering his identity she froze in the doorway.

“Sutcliffe,” she exhaled, and the man had the cheek to smile.

“Ms. Bandini,” he said and got up. One of his legs was straight and he held a walking stick, which supported his weight. Whatever surgery or infection he’d had obviously wasn’t through with him yet. At the wrong end of middle aged, his face bore many laughter lines, and his grey hair was receding, but his complexion was clear and his eyes shone with wisdom. “Grant and I were just discussing you.”

“Were you?” she said and fixated on Grant, who was acting just shifty enough that she doubted their discussions had all been positive or complimentary. “What were you discussing?”

Still wearing a smile, he had no shame. “Well I wanted to kill you,” Sutcliffe said. Zara had to give him points for honesty even if she hadn’t expected him to be so direct. “Grant tells me that you may not be a lost cause. He explained how your infatuation with Raven has waned since the man has become a useless wretch intent upon his seclusion.”

Sneering at the man who disgusted her, her reaction to his insult was snide. “I’m sure he’ll be so pleased to hear that you were concerned for his well-being.”

“I have a final proposition for you,” Sutcliffe said, using his stick to support the couple of steps he took in her direction.

“I’m not interested in your propositions.”

“Hear him out, Zara,” Grant said. “Be smart, please.”

Tuck had told her that she needed to stay close to Grant and that the more information they had, the better. So closing her arms around the binder, she raised her brows in acceptance of the moment and that action prompted Sutcliffe to carry on.

“I have land in a rural part of New York State,” Sutcliffe said. “It’s my base of operations.”

She couldn’t figure out why he would be confessing such a thing. Her pondering was interrupted by her realization that Grant’s blinds were drawn over the vast windows. The lights were on inside the office and she hadn’t considered how odd that was given that the winter sun was not close to setting. With that thought logged, she read the paranoia in Sutcliffe’s hunched form and it intrigued her.

Narrowing her eyes, she peered at him. “Why confess that to me?” she asked. “You’re not going to win my loyalty.”

“Your boss tells me that it might be a possibility,” he said. She glanced over Sutcliffe’s shoulder to read Grant’s beseeching expression. “And as for confessing, I did no such thing. My ownership of the compound is a matter of public record. I’m sure your colleagues already know where my group is based. The town we’re based just outside of contains most of our members. It’s no secret that we’re there. We’re not some sort of intolerant cult. We’re simply a group of likeminded people who want what is best for this country.”