Enemy Mine (The Base Branch Series Book 1) (15 page)

“
A
s much as
I hate putting you in danger, I know you can handle yourself. So, we armor up and go hot. Form a plan. Take the fucking castle. Rip the codes off my father’s neck and slap some nice bracelets on his wrists.” Baine’s hands bracketed her shoulders. All glimmer fled his eyes as he talked business. “I’ll order us
room service
for lunch. That way we can all be on the same page.”

“I finally get to meet your man?”

“Oh, he’s definitely nobody’s man, more like a beast.” Baine chuckled “It tickles me to death to see him so placid. He’ll be thrilled with the turn of events. Since we arrived, I’ve had to threaten physical harm to his Harley to keep him from blowing the lid off this place.”

“How long ago was that?”

“Two years.”

“My Lord.”

“Yeah, it’s been an exercise in self control.” He leaned in, planting a kiss on her cheek. “But you’ve proven it didn’t help my restraint one bit.”

Sloan smiled, but would be distracted no longer. They stood on the precipice of downing the biggest arms dealer and mass executioner since Hitler, and they had shit to do. “So, we know the who and the where, or at least we think we do. Now we need to determine the when and how.”

“Let’s get dressed and get serious. I can only think of one thing with your caramel breasts staring at me. It’s a tactical invasion, but not the target you have in mind. It’ll take me five minutes to shower. Fifteen, if you come with me.”

He stood and offered his hand, but she threw hers up to ward him off. “As much as I’d love to, I need clothes, a toothbrush, and a few minutes to think.” When his brow rose she added, “Not about this.” She swung a finger between the two of them. “About the logistics of our mission. The pitfalls and dangers we may overlook. It’s my thing. A few minutes of quiet, before the craziness of duty.”

Baine nodded. “I get it.”

He pulled her up and wrapped her in his big arms. Though she wasn’t slight or in need of comfort, she felt small and safe in the harbor of his embrace. And at the exact same time, immensely powerful.

“Hurry back. We have a shit ton to figure out.”

“I will,” she said, slipping back into her dress. Shoes in hand she walked to the door, oddly at peace.

“Be careful. Try to avoid—"

“I know and I will.”

He stood and watched her go.

Sloan daydreamed about his beautifully naked body, the last image before she’d closed the door, all the way to her room and through her shower, somehow managing to keep her hands from wandering into warmer, wetter territory. The moment she reached her closet all notions of romance and Baine’s body vanished.

Snatching a cotton day dress off the hanger, Sloan slipped the powder pink fabric over the strapless bra and thong she’d grabbed from the dresser. She slipped on sandals while yanking her bag of tricks from the top cedar shelf. Just like it should, the white leather hard-case appeared empty. For good measure and to keep from having to come back before dinner, she cluttered the bag with cocktail attire and all the cursed make-up she’d need to play her part. After snatching underthings from the drawer she snapped the case shut, careful not to turn the combination on the locking mechanism, and headed for the door.

Oddly enough, she didn’t need the run through she’d always demanded before going into hot zones. Quiet and calm didn’t call her. Baine did. She wanted him, not solitude. His calm reassurance. His apparent insight into the compound and Devereaux. His loving gaze.

Bag in hand, Sloan strolled down the corridor. As she neared the main junction of hallways and staircases she heard the rhythmic
slap
of dress shoes coming from the front foyer. Her pace slowed to a near stand still, as she waited, and hoped the man she knew was coming from the pace and force of each impact would pass.

Too bad she and luck weren’t on speaking terms at the moment.

The steps grew louder, headed for the back door, she supposed. Glancing back, her bedroom may as well have been on the moon, because in the seconds she had to move undetected, it was unreachable. The door to her left belonged to Lana, the last lady she wanted to see right now. To the right?
Jackpot.
She leapt two giant strides on tiptoes to keep the low heels from striking the stone floor and eased the bathroom door shut as the footsteps pounded nearer.

Not wanting to raise suspicions by getting caught in the bathroom with the lights off, Sloan smoothed her hand over the wall until she found the panel. One. Two. Three. She swallowed hard. Three switches. One, obviously a light. Two, noise makers of the vent and fan varieties.
Damn it
.

With no time to screw around, she made a choice. Hoping these were wired like the ones in her bathroom, she flipped the left switch. Sloan closed her eyes against the blinding light and strained to track the footsteps through the thick door.

They stopped what sounded like a few feet from the back door, nearly dead center to the connecting rear corridors. After a pause they passed the bathroom and quieted again in front of her room. She cracked the door open enough to see Kobi’s lightning fast B&E before he slipped into her room. In less than a minute he was out, and Sloan closed the door, listening as he retraced his steps.

Until they came even with the bathroom.

Sloan inhaled easily through her nose and let the breath go quietly through parted lips. Silence screamed on the other side of the carved oak for three long breaths. There hadn’t been a shuffle, squeak, or even a tap dance to perk her ears.

Gooseflesh waved across her back.

What was he up to? Did he know she was in here and why was he looking for her? Sloan ignored the lurch and shimmy in her stomach. No time to borrow trouble. Time to move.

She straightened and studied the bathroom.

Eight by ten room. Toilet. Column sink. Interior walls. No windows. Fine art. And one small linen closet.

Thank heavens for oiled hinges. They glided like eagle’s wings over the plain as Sloan swung the small door wide, carefully stuffed her carry-on into the shallow depths, and closed the latch. The whisper of footsteps neared the door, but she didn’t squander a second by staring at the oak.

Instead, she faced herself in the mirror, dabbed her middle finger against the nozzle of the liquid soap, pulled back her left eyelid and rubbed the detergent against her smooth cornea.

Whoa
. Desired affect achieved along with an unpleasant sting of pain. Sloan blinked wildly and tears cascaded over her cheek. She broke the silence barrier, turning the water on and cupping a few handfuls into her abused eye. After a blot she considered the bright red veins polluting the white of her sclera and smiled.

Sloan squared her shoulders and reached for the knob.

With arms crossed over his torso, Kobi glowered at her from the center of the corridor. He made no move to explain his presence, only stabbed her with his glare.

Refusing to be trapped in the tiny confines of the restroom with the letch, Sloan closed the door behind her and took one decisive step toward the foyer.

“Leaving so soon?” he asked. The words muffled through his clenched teeth.

Sloan struggled for meekness in her expression, squinting her brows and quivering her lower lip. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to be rude. I thought you were waiting for the bathroom and was only getting out of your way.”

“Nice try.” He laughed, but the sound turned into more of a snort. The huffing bull before its charge. “I think you were hiding from me.”

She tilted her head to the side and pointed for emphasis. “Hiding? No, I had a lash in my eye.”

His face drew in a sneer. “Did it hurt?”

Oh, shit.
She knew where this was going.
Unoriginal asshole.
And still she couldn’t stop it without giving something away more precious and deadly than her body. “Yes, a little,” she heard herself say.

“Well, I’m going to make you hurt a lot.” His arms shot out as he lunged.

Unable to move with her normal speed, she still managed to stumble into view of the grand entrance in hopes someone would happen along and dissuade Kobi’s attack. His grip clamped around her throat and she squealed, her eyes wide in feigned shock.

“Shut up,” he growled. “Baine can’t save you this time.”

He drove her into the wall. The smack of her head against the unmoving surface echoed in the entryway. She cried out with what air remained in her lungs.

“I said, ‘Shut up!’”

Those damn crooked teeth hovered directly in her line of sight as Kobi bore most of his weight on her windpipe. Had she not been trained to tighten her neck muscles and remain calm in every situation, she'd have already passed out. As it was, only a tiny percentage of the air she needed seeped through her forced pants.

Silver spots appeared like shooting stars above Kobi’s head. Sloan had to do something fast or pass out and be at the mercy of this sicko. She went basic, flailing her arms out wide as if in search of a weapon. A way out. Automatically his eyes followed her hands and she kneed his balls into his stomach.

Kobi doubled over with a guttural moan.

Honey-sweet air burned her lungs as she coughed and heaved. Still sputtering, Sloan ran for the front of the house.

Before she rounded the staircase Kobi’s body slammed her to the ground. They slid a good five feet and Sloan’s head collided with the massive front door. Things tunnel-visioned while Kobi flipped her over and crawled up her body. The world refocused on his mean mug and thick arms as they straightened and strained. Both his hands cinched down on her already sore neck.

“I’ve never been into necrophilia, but I’m willing to give it a try this ti—"

A fancy shoe cut off his ugly tirade. It connected with a loud snap of bone and sent him careening.

Relief washed over Sloan like a renewing waterfall. The throb of her brain and the sting in her lungs eased with the return of air and blood flow. Plus she had the satisfaction of watching Kobi land in a heap again. Not unconscious this time, but not on top of her either.

When he levered up on his hands and knees, her rescuer bellowed, “Stay down, dog.”

Well, the voice held no Brit. Her relief was doused in flames.

Devereaux
.

T
he man
in Sloan’s every nightmare stepped over her, advancing on Kobi. “It seems pussy’s made you doubly stupid. So, let me make things simple for you.” Devereaux pulled a silver pistol from the small of his back. He cocked the weapon with a smooth hand and ground the muzzle into Kobi’s temple.

Sloan scrambled up the door, her heart forgoing all training and beating wildly, unsure whether this was the end for her and Kobi both. She should run, but the scene unfolding before her made it impossible to look away. Side-stepping, she shrank into the corner.

Kobi’s gritted moan filled her ears and for some screwed up reason reminded her of her father’s pained cry before Devereaux’s men ended his life. Sloan blinked the memory away, unable to spare any brainpower for the side trip at the moment.

Devereaux’s hand flexed and Sloan braced for the
pow
. But the senior’s voice rang out instead. “Do not a lay hand on this woman again. Don’t even look in her direction. She is mine. Everything is mine. You are nothing. A mangy dog, not suited for my table scraps. Know your place. Remember it or I will end you here and now.”

“Yes, sir,” Kobi choked.

After a weighted pause Devereaux spat, “Now, out of my sight, filth.”

Sloan nearly vomited as Kobi hung his head like a good little slave and slunk away. No, she didn’t like him, didn’t feel sorry for him, but no man or woman should be made to feel inferior. No matter what.

The master watched, gun in hand, until Kobi disappeared around the corner, and then turned his dark eyes on her. Sloan hoped the rage vibrating her entire body would be mistaken as fright, but right this second she didn’t much care.

Absolutely nothing stood between her, Devereaux Kendrick, and the codes. They called to her from beneath his shirt and tie. She could snap his neck before he even realized he was in danger.

So, what’s stopping you? Do it.

He stalked closer, crowding her personal space.

Sloan screamed at herself.
Do it. Kill the man who took everything from you and so many others.
But her hands hung leaden at her sides. They had no plan of escape or attack. If she got caught moving Devereaux’s body, she was unarmed. If she got shot or captured she’d lose the codes before she had a chance to use them. And most terrifying of all, if Baine got hurt trying to protect her she could never live with herself.

No!

A finger skittered across her collarbone. Sloan couldn’t stop the tremor of revulsion. “Oh, don’t fear me, beauty. Where Kobi wished to harm you, I only want to pleasure you. And have you pleasure me, of course.”

His ruffly salt-and-pepper brows waggled. “You have both my son and my dog chasing your tail and I want to know what all the fuss is about. Plus, if anybody gets the goods around here, it’s me.”

Her stomach curdled and churned.

He heaved a sigh. The fermented air from his lungs billowed around her face. Sloan held her breath, unwilling to share even oxygen with this devil.

“I can see we’ll have to wait for our encounter. You’re shaken up by that oaf.” His knuckles caressed her arm and he smiled down at her. “Wear something extra special for me at dinner. Tonight, I’m claiming what belongs to me.”

B
aine tucked
a Reeder at the small of his back the moment he heard the bedroom knob jangle. He shot from the bathroom, leaving behind a sea of weaponry, crossing the expanse on silent feet. By the time the door opened his body lay flat against the wall behind it. Ready for anything.

Having disconnected the main camera in the room after Sloan left, nearly an hour ago, he wouldn’t be half surprised to see Kobi break in to fix his equipment. With the poor bastard’s ears and one eye inoperable, he didn’t know jack. That was likely enough to push him over the cliff of reason.

Through the gap at the hinge a dark shadow blotted the light as the person moved into the room. The tinny sound of china on silver relaxed Baine’s stance as did the voice that accompanied it.

“Lunch, sir.”

Baine kicked the door with his foot. “Isn’t the help supposed to knock first? You almost got your dick shot off, mate.”

Law turned. A crooked smile stretched his face as he ignored the deafening slam of the door and the edge in Baine’s tone. Law’s gaze catalogued Baine, then the rest of the room, before settling for a weighted second on the spot where he knew the tiny camera sat. He returned his emerald eyes to Baine, brows raised in question.

“He’s deaf and partially blind. Stick to the left side of the room.”

“Thank fuck.” Law unceremoniously deposited the tray on the nightstand and gnashed his head this way and that against the constraint of his black tie. “You can get your own damn tea…sir,” he added with an exaggerated bow.

“I don’t give a shit about tea. Have you seen Sloan? In the hallway? On your way here?”

Both his friend’s palms came up. “Take a breath, big guy. No, I didn’t see her. When was she supposed to be back?”

Baine moved toward the bathroom, careful to stay out of the camera’s line of sight. He pulled Law along with a nod. “Didn’t set a time. Damn well should have. I don’t know if it’s been too long or if I’m just on edge because this shit’s about to get serious.”

When they crossed the threshold of stone and granite Law groaned through his fat grin at the arsenal. “Is it Christmas? Because I’ve been very good this year.” He palmed an Enfield assault rifle, running his hand along the barrel as though it was the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen. “It’s been too damn long.” Then he went bug eyed over a stack of C-4. “I know the perfect places for that.”

“Good. We’ll talk about it when you bring back the wine and dessert you forgot in the kitchen. Take this. It should fit pretty well under your coat, not that I expect anyone to take time scrutinizing the help, except for the blond and redhead that came from Walters. And the only bulge they’d notice is the one in your pants.”

Law tilted his head. “You checkin’ out my junk, McCord? I mean we’re pals and all, but—"

“Shut up and put the blasted thing on,” Baine barked. While Law shrugged off his suit jacket and put on the tactical vest loaded with enough guns and ammo to add forty pounds to his frame, Baine pulled on his own. “I don’t give a fuck about wine or dessert, it’s your excuse. We’re going to find Sloan.”

As if bidden by his words, the bedroom door flew open and Sloan marched in before either he or Law had time to take up a defensive position.

Good thing she was friend, not foe.

Baine watched her lock the door and stalk toward him. The elephant standing on Baine’s chest levered a foot onto solid ground.
Thank God.
She moved with such determined strength and grace he caught his jaw before it hit the ground. She was gorgeous. Upset. No, pissed. And was that a hand imprinted in red and light blue around her throat? The elephant collapsed on his lungs while the beast inside him raged, scraping and snarling to be released.

He shoved Law out of the way and went to her, but her halting hands stopped him short not two feet outside the bathroom.

What the hell is it with these two and the calm-down palms?

Seeming to sense his agitation, she inhaled to speak, but stopped without a word. Her eyes widened at a spot behind him then looked toward the camera.

“It’s disconnected. He can’t see this side of the room,” Baine said in as calm a voice as he could rally.

She nodded, her tousled hair brushing her bare arms and the pink of her dress. “Another reason Kobi was pissed.”

Baine’s teeth gritted and his fists clenched at the name. “He hurt you?”

She smiled, but no joy brightened her face, which was drawn in tight lines of fury. “He tried. Your father stopped him. I thought he was going to kill Kobi.” Her fists clenched. “I don’t know what stopped him. The chance at continued humiliation at the guy’s expense, maybe. But I don’t have to worry about Kobi touching me again, unless he plans a coup to take power.”

Sloan’s lower lip trembled and her eyes welled with tears. She jutted her chin and breathed deep. “Devereaux claimed me.”

Someone ripped Baine’s bowels from his body and jump-roped with them. The pain her words wrought inside him were that acute. “What are you saying, Sloan. Did he...?”

Her head recoiled, rejecting even the thought of the act. “No.”

He hadn’t realized he’d bowed his head until her cute sandaled feet met his leather shoes toe-to-toe. Sloan pulled his gaze up with the gentle cup of her hand.

“He didn’t hurt me. Neither of them did.”

Baine traced the brutal outline on her neck. “This bruise says otherwise.”

“I’ve had worse.”

“Sure know how to make a guy feel better,” he puffed.

Those pretty lips of hers pursed. “Look at me. I’m whole. Totally pissed. And ready to rage.”

Baine itched to pull her into his arms and cradle her there forever, but this wasn’t the time. So, he stepped aside and tried to sedate his primal furor. After a deep breath he gestured between the two. “Sloan. Law. Law. Sloan.”

His friend crooked his head then straightened, giving Sloan a wink. “You’re a down-right scrapper. Knew it when you stepped off the plane, even before you tried to take Dev out with a butter knife.”

“Yeah, not my best move, but I’d have gotten him,” Sloan said. She stepped into the bathroom, offering Law her hand. Baine didn’t miss her sigh of appreciation as she perused the weapons display.

Law agreed. “You’d have taken the two guards and The Devil, but there were, and still are, fifteen other guards and Kobi to deal with. How about we coordinate our attack this time and get rid of these sons of bitches?”

“Dog’s bollocks,” Baine mumbled.

Sloan whipped her head around and squinted at him.
Oh right. They spoke the same language, only not so much.

“He thinks it’s a blasted great idea,” Law offered.

He’d say it a million times over, if it always had this affect. Her shoulders shook and her little nostrils flared as she fought back giggles. With emotions running high his daft comment provided a break. A release she could deal with in front of them. She covered her mouth with the back of her hand.

“Did you say, ‘Dog’s bollocks’?” she laughed.

Baine smiled. “Where I come from it’s a rather common saying.”

“Common?” She quirked a brow.

Law backed him up. “It’s common. In bars.”

She nodded. “If you two say so. It’s a new one for me, but yes, I’m ready to plan. But I get Devereaux.” Finality sealed her words and her suddenly stern gaze swiveled from Law to Baine, daring them to challenge her.

Baine found his hands on his hips and his spine straightened a degree more.

Sloan’s eyes glinted golden. “Devereaux told me to wear something special for him tonight. He’ll bring me to his bedroom, which is attached to his office. I’ll wear my leather garter and double steels. They’re extra special.”

Baine wanted his father. He wanted to see the chav’s face when he realized everything he’d killed for was being ripped from his fingers. Moreover, he didn’t want Sloan anywhere near that man, especially since he knew what the demon planned to do with her. But she, more than even him, deserved the closure.

In a whisper of authority, Baine said, “Don’t kill Devereaux. Extract whatever kind of information from him, however you want to do it, but you can’t kill him.”

Her jaw worked on that for a minute while Law’s brows arched. Apparently, neither agreed with him.

Tough shit.