Night Shadow (10 page)

drink and bar stool with her and leaving a cloud of expensive perfume in

her wake.

Fox turned to face him. “Why would IA be looking at you? What did you

do?”

Alex frowned. “Not a damn thing. Unless they can read my mind and know

what I
plan
to do.”

Six

If, as Internal Affairs suspected, Alexander Stone was a rogue operative,

Lexi’s directive was clear and specific.

Terminate.

She considered that irrevocable step as she turned her back to the

deliciously hot pulsing shower to rinse conditioner out of her hair. The hot

water stung the crease in her shoulder. But thanks to Alex, it wasn’t as

bad as it could’ve been.

Stone and Fox had gone up to the restaurant to have dinner and catch up.

Since Lexi had nothing to catch up
on,
and an hour or two by herself

sounded like bliss, she let them go without quibbling. A nice long shower

fol owed by a little Internet research and an early night would serve her

wel .

Where the two men planned to sleep wasn’t her problem. It was a nice

night, the temp a balmy seventy-eight. For all she cared, they could sleep

on the beach. She’d have that nice, big, white-draped bed out in the other

room all to herself.

She’d killed six men her first day on the job. Killing someone she’d kissed

was going to take a lot more balls than she had. She was going to have to

deal with it.

“No more kissing.” She rested her foot on the side of the tub to shave her

leg. “No more kissing, touching, wishing to be kissed, or thinking about

touching, Ms. Operative,” she said, continuing the ongoing lecture she’d

been giving herself for the last several hours.

If push came to shove, she was expected to kil Alexander Stone

efficiently. Without hesitation. There was no rule that said she had to do it

with no remorse.

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Night Shadow

“Next time I think about how incredible it feels when he sticks his tongue

in my mouth, I’ll think about shooting him point blank instead.”
That

should give her pause.

She’d taken the job, accepting that proviso. Kill Alex if necessary. Kil ing

people was part of the job. She accepted that. Killing Alex was a whole

other ball game.

They’d told her his behavior in the past three months was suspect. He

wasn’t working up to his own high standards. He was disappearing in the

middle of ops, and not returning until it was too late for him to be

effective. Even given the nature of the psi unit, this behavior was still

unusual enough to raise a few hackles.

It was as atypical as it was becoming consistent.

There
must
be more to it than this, Lexi thought for the hundredth time.

Terminating an operative for being lazy, or lax, or whatever it sounded as

though he were doing, seemed . . . overkil . Maybe he just needed a

vacation. She was a show-me-the-facts kind of girl. Logical, methodical,

by the book, especially when things were black-and-white. The problem

was, there were too many shades of gray at the moment.

But she’d do it—she’d terminate Alex Stone—if and when she had the

requisite proof that his elimination was unavoidable. The fact that the man

made her hot and bothered, and thrived on ruffling her feathers, could

have absolutely no part in her decision-making process. Black was black

and white was white.

Seeing him waiting in the safe house in Moscow was a case in point, and

highlighted his unusual behavior. He should have been back at the train

station getting people out as fast as possible. Instead he’d gone to take a

nap or see a girlfriend or whatever had happened. What the hel was
that

about? That dereliction of duty was black.

Then there was the situation on Taiwan. He’d almost gotten them both

killed when he hadn’t teleported before the explosion. He’d told his team

to leave, but stayed himself. Very un-Alex-like behavior, since it appeared

the man lived to teleport every-damn-where. Why didn’t he leave when it

would benefit him most to do so? A death wish?

Lexi frowned as she shaved her other leg. “With me?” If he was suicidal,

why would he want to take her with him? Why would he have wrapped

himself around her like a super-hefty LockOut suit, keeping her safe? That

was gray.

She didn’t trust gray.

And
suicidal
reminded her of that terrifying, muddled, and powerful desire

she’d experienced up on the Moscow rooftops. She nicked her leg, the

soap bubbles turning red from the small cut, and her stomach knotted.

She’d pushed that out of her mind to analyze later.

And she would.
Later.

Maybe Alex was sick. Maybe he was just sick and tired of the never-

ending parade of bad guys doing unspeakable things. Maybe he liked

being a bad guy better than being a good guy.

Maybe he
had
turned.

40

Night Shadow

Hard to imagine someone like Stone turning, though. He didn’t appear to

care about either money or power. What other reason would there be to

join terrorists? It was always either money or world domination. Or

fanaticism of some sort. Hmm. He seemed too laid-back to give a damn

about any of that. But she hadn’t been watching him long enough to know

who he was, really.

Even though there was stil plenty of lovely hot water, unlike the safe

house in Moscow, Lexi turned off the shower and dried off in the steamy

bathroom. Fox had offered her the use of a wardrobe fil ed with women’s

clothing. The woman in question was shorter, curvier, and a lot more

fashionable than Lexi aspired to be.

She chose the most conservative thing she could find. Navy capris and a

navy top with little green beads on it. Both a little on the snug side. But

better than getting back into her sweaty work clothes.

After hanging the towels back on the rod to dry, she ran her fingers

through her new short hair, then went into the main room of the cabana.

She sat on the bed cross-legged and booted up the laptop Alex had hocus-

pocused for her.

With her own special encryption, Lexi logged into the e-mail account for

her reports to Internal Affairs. The report was short and succinct. She

couldn’t make a judgment call based on so little. She certainly wasn’t

going to terminate a fel ow operative because he was . . .
lazy.

After checking her personal e-mail—one from her mother, one from Carrie

Anne at work—Lexi turned off the computer and put it aside.

There was nothing to read, and she wasn’t in the mood for TV. What she’d

really like was a swim. She’d made Alex believe she didn’t like swimming,

but that was just an effort to maintain distance from him. She loved the

freedom of water. Made her feel as though she could fly. She got off the

bed and went to open the front door, then stood there breathing in the

refreshing smel of salt air.

The moon glistened on the water enticingly, creating a shimmering path to

the horizon. The beach between the bungalow and the water gleamed

white in its light. The lap of the waves and the susurrus of the water

sweeping up the sand mingled with the faint samba beat of steel drums

up at the main part of the resort.

There wasn’t a soul in sight.

She had a crazy urge to swim nude, but quickly dispel ed that notion. The

idea of being naked anywhere near Stone was horrifying. Horrifyingly

appealing.

After only a moment’s hesitation, Lexi turned back inside and went in

search of a swimsuit.

Bikinis and more bikinis fil ed one of the drawers of the dresser in the

bedroom area of the bungalow. Not her style. She opted for the bottom of

the most conservative suit, and her own black tank top. Grabbing a towel,

and feeling like a kid let out of school early, she pul ed the door closed

behind her, then jogged down the soft sand.

Placing her towel and keycard aside in a clearly visible spot, she turned

and ran into the water. The shock of cold against her warm skin was

41

Night Shadow

invigorating and she launched her body into an incoming wave, her spirit

as buoyant as her body.

Lexi swam in strong sure strokes along the moon’s path toward what

looked like the edge of the earth. Fanciful, but what the hel . She was not

going to feel guilty taking a few hours off. She hadn’t taken a vacation in

five years and seven months.

Estimating that she was about a mile offshore, she turned back in a

leisurely backstroke so she could continue admiring the huge expanse of

black sky. The mil ions of stars made her feel small and insignificant.

Vulnerable and powerful at the same time. The concerns of the world

seemed small compared to the infinite universe she lived in.

Letting the gentle swel s of the sheltered sea of the harbor rock her, she

felt the tension knotting her body and mind release her from its grip. This

was almost like being in an immersion tank.

Completely relaxed, almost boneless, Lexi drifted with the waves. One

moment, she was almost in a trance, the next, hands grabbed her head,

violently shoving her underwater.
Alex?

Struggling against the implacable hold, Lexi kicked and bucked her body,

clawing the hands clamped around her head with her short nails. The

unexpected assault pissed her off. God damn it, if he kept this up, he’d

drown her for real.

Her heart kicked into overdrive as she realized the person doing his best

to drown her wasn’t Alex. Hands and wrists were too small. A woman? No,

those hands weren’t that small and she felt the tensile strength of sinew

and muscle in his arms—definitely of the Y chromosome type. Her vision

blurred and her lungs struggled to sustain her last breath.

Underwater combat training had been an eighteen-hour course. She

remembered every one of those one thousand and eighty minutes of

drown-proof classes. She’d been top of her class. Straight As. She’d been

trained in waterborne operations. Deep dives, diving physics, both day

and night ocean subsurface navigation swims. She’d mastered drown-

proofing. She knew what she was doing, and she could whip this son of a

bitch’s ass.

If she could only get one freaking deep breath before she got started.

Unfortunately, the guy knew that giving her a breath was going to give

her the game. His fingers tightened around her head, digging into her

cheekbones, his thumbs relentlessly squeezing the back of her skul .

The water was too deep to put her feet on the ocean floor, and she

couldn’t hold her breath much longer. Releasing a sip of air from her lungs

to take some of the pressure off her chest, Lexi pivoted her body to bring

her feet up over her head. Not much force because of the water, but she

managed a hard enough rabbit kick to snap the guy’s head back.

Bastard didn’t release his hold on her head, however. He just took her

with him as he jettisoned backward, shoving her deeper on impact.

Her bare feet hadn’t encountered any sort of breathing device when she’d

struck his face, so he was holding his breath as wel . Good. She could hold

hers for nine point three minutes. A record at the academy.
Let’s see if

you could hold yours that long, asshole.

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Night Shadow

Of course, her adrenaline hadn’t been pumping all the oxygen out of her

blood in training, and she’d breathed in pure oxygen before the test . . .

In one fluid motion, Lexi twisted her body as far as she could against his

unshakable grip on her head. As she fought for her life, she counted off

the seconds.

Her lungs screamed, black blotches obscured her already limited visibility.

She was contorted like a damn pretzel, but this time she managed to dig

her nails into his arm. She managed to pry one finger on the bastard’s

hand back, loosening his hold. Tucking her knees under her body, she

used his arm as a fulcrum and swung into him, kneeing him in the balls.

Hard.

His rapidly released air bubbles caught a glint of surface moonlight.

Suddenly, she was free. Lexi shot to the surface like a cork, gasping,

fil ing her lungs with wonderful air. Blinking the water out of her eyes, she

spun in a circle, looking for the guy. He’d be easy to spot in the

moonlight. But there was no sign of him. She imagined hearing the

soundtrack from
Jaws
playing in her head and shook it off.

Maybe he’d drowned?

She didn’t think so.