Vengeance (SSU Trilogy Book 1) (3 page)

No kidding. That was the freaking point. Mentally rolling her eyes, she said, “Yes, I know.” She crossed her arms over her chest. “You’re the one who asked Ryker to let me accompany you to Moscow. So what’s with the attitude?”

He looked her over, then let his lip curl.

Please. If he thought she’d wither under his disdain, he was way off base. The only thing she cared about was being the one who found Kai.

When he didn’t answer, she tapped her foot in an exaggerated show of impatience. “Well?”

His jaw tightened. For a moment Jenna thought he was going to ignore her and push right on past. But then he indicated with a nod she should accompany him to the left and into the picnic area. Not checking to see if she obeyed, he chose a table far enough away from the path that no one would be able to overhear him.

With a quick swipe of his handkerchief he cleared a spot on the top of the picnic table and sat down, resting his feet on the seat.

Jenna halted a few feet away from him. Even sitting down, he towered over her five-foot-three frame. He stared at her, trying to intimidate her. But Jenna just regarded him steadily, waiting for his answer.

Finally, Tonelli scowled. “I don’t care if you’re Paterson’s sister and Ryker’s pet. In my book, you’re useless except as bait. That means you do what I say, when I say it. And you stay out of my way.”

“I’m not some helpless twit. I’ve been through the agent training program. I can—”

Tonelli held up his hand. “Little girl, don’t lie to me. You haven’t graduated yet.” He slapped his hand against a mosquito on his neck, then glanced at the bloody remains of the insect with disgust.

“You’re out of your league with this assignment. Alvarez has a reputation for being ruthless and brutal.” Something not strong enough to be fear, but darker than wariness crossed Tonelli’s expression.

She almost sympathized with him. She’d barely survived one attack by Alvarez’s men. Yet no matter how much the idea of being captured terrified her, she’d risk anything to get back at Kai.

“As soon as Alvarez learns you’re alive, his men will be after you,” Tonelli continued. “And they won’t be gentle. I’m your only protection.”

Jenna barely resisted rolling her eyes. Come
on
. Like he could protect her if Alvarez sent men after her? Tonelli looked like he’d be more at home in a boardroom than in a physical fight. Her mind flashed back to an image of Niko Andros. Tough. Capable. She bet Niko could hold his own against Alvarez’s ruthless thugs.

Jenna scowled. Since when did she need a man’s help? She’d protect herself, thank you very much. Besides, she was only acting as bait. Not walking into a firefight.

Tonelli stood up. “As long as you obey me and stay out of trouble, we’ll get along fine.” His eyes once again flicked disdainfully from her head to her feet. “Oh, and don’t bother to bring any of your own clothes. I’ll buy you new ones once we’re there so you…won’t look like such a fashion disaster.”

Okay. Enough of his sideways insults. Her cargo pants and long-sleeved t-shirt were comfortable and practical. So what if combined with her slight frame and her white, pixie-short hair she looked like a boy? All that mattered was her ability to get the job done.

When he took a step forward, she moved into him, hooked her foot around his leg, and flipped him onto his back. But a street fighter hid underneath Tonelli’s expensive suit. He had her down on the ground and nearly subdued in seconds. It took every trick from her training to evade him and get the upper hand. Finally, though, she straddled him as he lay on his back, his hands pinned underneath him and her combat knife pressed just deep enough into his skin to raise color without breaking the surface.

“Don’t underestimate me,” she said quietly.

“Okay, you’ve some training.” Tonelli’s tone made it clear he was only humoring her, so Jenna leaned a little harder on the knife. “Maybe you’re not completely helpless.”

She nodded. But instead of standing up and giving him an opportunity to get back at her, she pressed her knife harder against his throat, then somersaulted over his shoulder, letting the knife scrape across his throat and cheek as she moved into a crouch.

Faster than she expected, his hand shot out and grabbed her ankle, causing her to pitch into an ungraceful face down heap with her arm twisted at a painful angle to keep her knife away from her body. One quick kick with her other foot, though, and Tonelli’s grip loosened enough for her to wriggle free. She immediately leapt to her feet and dashed into the trees.

Once she was far enough away, she checked behind her. No sign of Tonelli.

She sighed. This was not the start of a promising partnership. But she’d work with the devil himself if it meant finding Kai.

#

By the time Jenna got back to her small cabin, she was shaking and shivering with reaction. Despite all her training, knives still made her sick with fear. She was usually able to shove her fear aside and get the job done. But then, until tonight she’d never pulled her knife on anyone outside of training.

She dropped her keys on the first try. She scooped them up, tightened her grip on them, and despite more fumbling managed on the second try to get the door unlocked and pushed open.

She stumbled inside, shoved the door closed, and fell to her knees. A second later she was almost knocked over by a jumping, barking mass of overexcited fur. She opened her arms and let her golden retriever, Monroe, lick her face.

“Hey, sweetie,” she said, tightening her arms for a hug that had Monroe sitting down and whining in distress. He nuzzled closer, sensing her mood.

“Jenna did a bad thing, Monroe. I pulled a knife on someone who wasn’t threatening me.” Her voice cracked and she buried her face in Monroe’s silky fur. She understood the importance of a knife in close combat. There was nothing wrong with using a knife to protect yourself or your teammates. But just now with Tonelli hadn’t been about protecting anything but her ego. She’d been piqued and determined to get the upper hand. The next thing she knew, her knife was at his throat.

It made her stomach churn.

What kind of person had she become?

She shuddered. Memories of the night of the attack danced around the edges of her consciousness, begging to be brought forward. But she refused to think about the cold prick of steel against her skin or the hot rush of blood over her face.

Monroe gave a strangled bark, his sign that she was holding on too tight. “Sorry, sweetie.” Shoving the memories back in the dark where they belonged, Jenna let Monroe go.

Her fingers instinctively reached for the braided leather around her wrist, all that remained of the leather necklace her younger sister, Isabel, had made for Jenna’s twenty-second birthday. The necklace had stopped the assassin’s knife from completely severing Jenna’s throat. It was the reason she was here alone, instead of joined with the rest of her family in death.

She pushed slowly to her feet, suddenly exhausted. Then her eyes landed on the dust-covered wheelchair in the corner and her spine stiffened. Her chin went up.

Who was she? Exactly the person she’d needed to be in order to survive.

Cold. Hard. Ruthless. Efficient.

What mattered was that she was strong enough to complete her mission. As long as she achieved vengeance for her parents and the twins, nothing else mattered.

Feeling centered again, she strode toward the bathroom. She gulped a glass of water, cleaned off the dirt and grass from her tussle with Tonelli, then headed back to the front door.

The instant her fingers touched Monroe’s leash, his whole body wriggled in anticipation. Watching his excitement, she froze. After years spent dreaming of finding Kai, she should be as eager as Monroe. Yet while she felt a low hum of anticipation at the idea of bringing Kai to justice, it was nowhere near the jittery, uncontainable fire of true excitement.

Shaking her head at her lack of reaction, she clipped the leash to Monroe’s collar and headed toward the side of the compound that served as a private wildlife rehabilitation facility. Ryker and his medical team believed that full emotional and physical recovery depended on the patient being drawn into caring for others, whether human or animal. So, once the swelling in her back had gone down enough to make it safe for her to go places in her wheelchair, Jenna had been assigned to work at the wildlife rehabilitation center as part of her therapy. Now she went there whenever she felt the need for sanctuary.

When they reached the center’s gate, Monroe sat down and whined in protest. She bent down and patted his head. “I know you hate being tied outside, sweetie. But you just can’t go around chasing the birds. I promise I won’t be long.” Just long enough to finish centering herself by working with her favorite red-tailed hawk. She’d also have to make arrangements with Mary, one of the permanent wildlife center staff, to take care of Monroe while she was gone.

“We’ll go run in the woods after, okay?” she said, giving Monroe one last pat. Straightening, she headed for the gate. Then stopped mid-step, hit with the realization that if things went according to plan, she’d never return to the SSU. This would be the last walk she ever took with Monroe. Tears sprang to her eyes at the thought of never seeing him again.

From the day Ryker brought her the young golden retriever just out of service dog training, Monroe had been her rock. Her only source of comfort through the endless nights when her dreams echoed with screams and Kai’s laughter.

Monroe would never betray her. Unlike Kai.

She hadn’t wanted to believe that Kai had turned against his family. But a knife with Kai’s fingerprints and Justin’s blood had been found in the neighbors’ doghouse. Yes, evidence could be planted. But during the attack she’d heard Kai’s voice issue the command to kill from the next room. Then, after her escape attempt had failed and she lay in a twisted, broken heap on the concrete walk in the backyard, unable to move, barely able to breath, she’d seen Kai exit the house. Briefly silhouetted by the inside lights, his hard, cold expression had terrified her. It was the face of a killer. Not her loving, supportive older brother. She’d opened her mouth to scream his name, but thanks to the cut across her throat all that came out was a faint gurgle. Even that effort had been too much for her and she’d passed out.

Kai’s face, and his laughter, had starred in her nightmares ever since.

And now, to achieve her vengeance, she’d have to give up Monroe. Her best friend.

She swallowed heavily. No. She wouldn’t cry. This was about her parents and the twins. Not her. What she felt didn’t matter. Monroe would be happy with Mary.

So she had to stop this feeling of loss. Right. Now.

Giving up the idea of working with the birds of prey tonight, she untied Monroe’s leash and led him toward the woods. “C’mon, boy. I changed my mind. Let’s go chase squirrels.”

He barked happily and surged ahead, nearly yanking her off her feet. She ran to keep up with him, remembering the time when the doctors thought she’d never run again. How bleak those days had been.

The morning she’d wheeled herself underneath the rehabilitation center’s wooden arch had been the pivotal moment of her recovery. The birds of prey quickly became her spiritual guides. They’d shown her the way out of the confusing tangle of rage, grief and fear left by the attack. She fit in with them in a way she no longer could with humans. The birds didn’t look at her with pity. They didn’t look at her scars with revulsion or morbid fascination.

The birds existed in a black and white world. Kill or be killed. If you weren’t the hunter, you were the prey. She’d never again be prey. She was the hunter now.

And Kai was the prey.

Chapter 2

Thursday, Early Morning

Pasadena, California

Niko Andros stared down at the newly-turned grave, tears clogging his throat. He hadn’t consciously decided to aim his morning run toward the cemetery, but now that he was here, he was glad to have a chance to say good-bye to Pop away from the curious eyes of his family.

And even though he’d seen the open casket on display at the funeral home, there was a small part of Niko that still expected Pop to roll his wheelchair up to the grave and shout, “Just kidding!” He took a deep breath of early morning air and finally accepted the truth. This wasn’t one of his father’s infamous practical jokes. Pop really was gone.

He still couldn’t believe his father had died of pneumonia, for Christ’s sake. He’d always thought Pop would die on the job. Go down under a bullet or a knife.

Not be killed by a bacteria too tiny to see and too strong to fight.

He bowed his head and was surprised to find a Greek prayer for the dead rolling off his tongue. Moisture blurred his vision, but today’s sky was clear, so he couldn’t blame it on rain.

Finally, he raised his eyes and confronted the grave head-on.

“You were a hell of a guy, Pop,” Niko said in Greek. “The DEA was lucky to have you as an agent and I’m damn proud to be your son. Wherever you are, I hope you understand that. I hope you’re having a hell of a party. I’m sorry I didn’t make it back in time to say good-bye.”

Niko had been feverish, recovering from a bullet wound to the thigh while waiting for transport out of a remote Afghani village when Rafe, his younger brother and fellow SSU agent, had shown up and given him the news that Pop was critically ill. Rafe hadn’t found Niko in time, though. Pop had died before their plane reached the States.

“I love you, Pop,” he said softly.

Jesus, it was a good thing he was alone. His fellow SSU agents would bust a gut laughing if they caught him talking to a grave. Yet oddly, as the sun broke through the high-flying clouds and warmed his hair, he felt a degree of peace creep into him.

“Thanks, Pop.” Niko gave a two-finger salute to the sky, then wiped the last of his tears away and turned to go.

He’d only gone a few steps when a black stretch limo with tinted windows pulled alongside him. The hairs on the back of his neck bristled and his hand went automatically to the pistol under his left arm.