DARK WEB (BADGE BOYS Book 2) Read online

  It worked. Her eyes abandon the crotch of my pants and lock with my own. I breathe a silent sigh of relief. As if to challenge my opinion of her, she raises one drink and then the other, taking a healthy sized sip of each.

  Her plump lips glisten from the coating of coffee and spread into a gloating smile. “Take your pick. If I’ve poisoned them, then I’ve just gotten a taste of my own medicine.”

  Her English is perfect, without flaw, although I find myself searching for one. Given her history and upbringing, I’d seriously been expecting her to have a sexy Cold War accent. I may be slightly disappointed, but my dick isn’t. It’s still jumping to get closer to her.

  With both of the coffee cups perched in the cardboard carrier, she extends it to me and then raises an eyebrow in wait for me to select whichever one I want. Leaning forward, I take the one closest to her, giving the permission she’s been waiting for to take the other and down a long savory sip. My stomach growls again and I use it to hide a deep moan as I watch her mouth go to work on the innocent cup.

  A frothy foam is left in place over her top lip once she releases its hold over the plastic lid. I hone in on it and fight the urge to use one long stroke of my tongue to rid her of it.

  “Thanks,” I catch her off guard by stealing her now almost half empty cup and replacing it with the full one that I had chosen earlier. Better safe than sorry. Sure, she took a sip from both, but depending on the toxin one uses, a small sip won’t do much. This way, we can both finish our morning drinks a little less guarded.

  Raven rolls her exquisite eyes at my action, but doesn’t say anything. She moves gracefully to pass me and set down the empty cardboard tray on the lone counter within the small kitchen area. A brown paper bag is placed next to it and opened, revealing a couple of delicious looking pastries.

  My stomach grumbles yet again at the sight of the flaky, fresh-baked items. With a little less caution than before, I take my pick, a glazed chocolate croissant. It’s still warm in my hand and my mouth begins to water for it. At least, I think that’s what it’s watering for.

  Before taking a bite, I do the only thing I can think of. I hold it out for her. Something glimmers in her eye, and, without hesitation, her lips slowly part so her pearly white teeth can sink into the gooey breakfast treat.

  My stomach drops at the sight and I’ve never imagined myself wishing I were a glorified doughnut before. Her eyes never leave mine, arresting me in place with her stare.

  With a large bite between her teeth, she rips the piece off dramatically. “See? Didn’t poison that either.”

  Some of the chocolate coating is beginning to melt on my finger, no doubt from how warm my body is becoming. “Can’t blame me for being cautious. It’s not like I don’t have a reason for it. How’d you get me up here last night anyway?”

  I can tell she’s strong, but there’s no way she carried me up the two stories that I’m guessing must be climbed to reach this floor, judging by the skyline out the window.

  “Wait,” she gasps. “You mean, you don’t remember last night? It was beautiful. You told me you loved me…”

  My jaw freezes mid-chew. I can feel my chest tighten and I fight the urge to choke on the chocolate pastry in my mouth.

  “You mean… we…” My eyes widen. How the fuck do I not remember that? A girl like this in bed is not something that should be forgotten.

  Raven breathes heavily, sighing out what seems to be pissed-off disappointment. The only thing worse than forgetting that you had sex with an intensely hot woman, is telling her that you forgot. Yeah, I’m kicking myself in the ass for that, too.

  My muscles tighten, bracing for the inevitable slap across the face that should follow an admission like I just made. Her hardened eyes seem to be preparing for it.

  “Nah, I’m just playing with you. You made it up the stairs yourself with a little help and then passed out on the couch,” she laughs.

  Relief washes over me, quickly followed by embarrassment as I realize I fell right into that one. “That was… dirty.”

  She shrugs her shoulders. “All’s fair in love and war.” There’s a dare to her tone.

  The bite of croissant in my mouth is forced down so that I can ask, “And which is this?”

  Raven looks to me as if I should somehow already know the answer. “Why, it’s war of course. And I need you to help me win…”

  I nearly choke. “Excuse me?”

  The Cold War has been over for decades now. “Wh—who’s at war?”

  I’m beginning to think that the situation may be a bit more precarious than I may have assumed. She’s a genius… there’s no denying that. I’ve known from some of the earliest days on her tail that she’s a prodigy. When you have someone with that degree of intelligence, sometimes something has to give to make room for it in the human brain. That’s why some of the brightest minds have also had to deal with their fair share of mental demons, if you will.

  In layman’s terms… she’s gotta be batshit crazy.

  “We are,” she replies matter-of-factly.

  I clear my throat, knowing that I could be walking a very fine line with someone who may or may not be stable. “We are?”

  Leaning closer, I whisper. “Who’s… we?”

  “You’re not taking me seriously, are you?” She’s not amused by my attempt at humor. I figured it was the safest approach. Even crazy people like to laugh, right?

  What’s left of my croissant is placed on the counter. “Uhm, sure I am. A war. Right. Why don’t you tell me all about it as we travel back to the States?”

  That was the whole point of me coming here anyway. She was ready to turn herself in.

  Raven’s lower lip disappears as she bites it nervously and takes it into her mouth. “About that…”

  I knew this was too good to be true.

  My fists ball and clench as I squeeze my eyelids tightly. “You played me.”

  Damn! I knew it was too easy, that it was completely out of character for her to offer to turn herself in so easily. Sure, she’d had a bullet whirl right near her head and that’s got to do something to a person, but her offer never truly made any sense to me.

  I’d been studying her, following her every single online move for months now. She’s been profiled and analyzed by the best forensic and criminal psychologists that the Bureau has to offer and I’ve read every single one of their reports.

  She’s a fighter, a survivor, a true rebel.

  My gut reaction, which I got when I first read the encrypted message that popped up in one of the deeply buried hacker chat rooms she and I both frequent, was that she must be fucking with me.

  After all, it wouldn’t have been the first time.

  Raven figured out pretty quickly that I was following her digital moves and ever since then, she’s made it a little pet project of hers to make sure we both knew that she was always one step ahead of me.

  “I didn’t exactly play you,” she begins defending herself.

  I’m normally a pretty even-keeled guy. Sure, I’ve got a temper, but I learned a long time ago how to use certain tools and mechanisms to keep it in check when it comes to my work.

  Every single one of those tricks is failing me at the moment.

  I’ve just flown across the globe on a minute’s notice, without enough time to get proper permission and authority from my superiors, in order to get here, get her, and get both our asses back in time for my next shift in two days, where I am supposed to turn her over with enough praise and accolade to overshadow whatever rules I broke by traveling internationally without express permission.

  If I had stuck to the rule book and done things according to protocol, I would have been lucky to get here before the week was over and I would have been forced to bring an entire team with me that would have most definitely spooked her into staying in the shadows.

  We had an understanding, she and I. One that had been playfully cultivated during this cat and mouse relationship we’d developed
. She would only trust me and me alone to bring her to safety. At least, that’s what she said.

  Come to think of it, people who trust each other don’t demand to be rescued from the farthest reaches of the globe. People who trust each other don’t go drugging each other’s drinks and setting up video cams to spy on them.

  No, she doesn’t trust me. She’s using me.

  And… I am probably going to loose my job over this, if not get brought up on charges as well.

  “You’re coming back with me whether you like it or not,” I decide I’m not playing Mr. Nice Guy anymore.

  I’m going to take her, kicking and screaming if necessary, back to my bosses and call it a day. All in three days before they notice I’m not where I should be. And, if I can pull this off without a hitch, then hopefully I can avoid looking at the inside of an eight by eight cement tomb for the next twenty to thirty years for high treason.

  Raven smiles tightly. “That’s not such a good idea.”

  It’s not like I expected her to go willingly, but I thought she’d have more than that to say.

  “And why is that?” I pacify her.

  For the slightest second, I see a quick flash across her eyes. It almost looks like… regret.

  “Because you’re a wanted man,” she accuses.

  I can’t help but laugh. I’ve had women tell me they want me before, but I don’t think that’s quite what she means…

  “It’s true,” Raven continues. “You step one foot into an airport, an embassy or a police station and you’ll be arrested on the spot.”

  It’s like everything is happening in slow motion as Raven reveals herself.

  I can’t help but feed into it. “On what charges?”

  Her petite shoulders square themselves. “Treason. Espionage. Blackmail. The usual.”

  CHAPTER TWO

  RAVEN

  The words were a lot easier to say when I imagined them. Now that I’m saying them out loud, it’s a whole different situation.

  I’ve been labeled a thief, a spy, a criminal, a traitor, and much worse. I know the truth even if they don’t, so those empty labels just roll off of my back. I can tell someone like Beau takes it much more seriously.

  “What. Are. You. Saying?” He’s much cuter than I pictured. Even though he’s angry I can’t help but stare at the chiseled features that make up his handsome face while comparing them to what I imagined them to be from the information I’ve compiled on him over the last year.

  I may need to take a different approach. “Don’t freak out. As soon as we do what we need to do everyone will know you’re not really guilty of any of those things. Until then, I just needed a little… guarantee that you’d do what I need of you.”

  The ice-cold, baby-blue eyes that have been staring at me in disbelief are now clouding over. “Don’t freak out? You played me! You’re blackmailing me and you brought me halfway across the damn world to do it! And you drugged me in the process!”

  I don’t usually second guess anything I do, especially given the situation that I’m in, but seeing the panic in those storm-hued shocked eyes of his causes a tight knot in my throat.

  “Beau.” This is the first time I’ve said his name aloud. “It’s not what you think.”

  He’s not having it. “The hell it isn’t!”

  Nowhere in my plan was I going to reveal more than the bare minimum to Beau, but I can see I won’t be able to win him over any other way. The words hang on my tongue, fighting me. No one knows what I’m about to say… and for good reason.

  It’s the only way, though.

  “They’ll kill my parents.” My voice is little more than a whisper.

  He stops rambling midway through his next line of argument. Dark brown eyebrows furrow at me while he digests the very real threat I’ve just revealed.

  The few messages I’ve gotten from my parents’ captors were very clear and very specific. I tried my best to get what they needed on my own, but it was too much. Too dangerous.

  I’ve known I needed help for a while now, but have been trying to find any other way.

  “Your parents? We thought they were already…” His words are slow and I can tell they’re carefully thought out.

  I’m not surprised the FBI thinks my parents are no longer among the living. I’m actually glad to hear it. It took a lot of work on my part to make the world think that when it was convenient.

  Mom and Dad have lived their whole lives looking over their shoulder. I wanted more for them. I wanted some bit of normalcy in the last years of their lives. They had been mostly retired for a while, but there was always the danger of falling back into the kind of life that beckoned people like us.

  When you feel the type of adrenaline and the rush of the thrill coursing through your veins that comes along with this line of work, it’s not something you can easily give up. I don’t think I would be that far off if I compared it to a drug.

  They were going to try to live without it, though. They promised me that, and I could tell they were ready for the peace and the quiet that their age should have earned them.

  I’d spent countless weeks setting them up with new identities, triple checking my sources and ensuring that even the best tracers out there wouldn’t be able to find them. They were no longer the former KGB intelligence specialists that had raised me to follow in the only footsteps they knew. Gone were the days of grilling me on tactical advantages and night scope specs.

  Carefully and with great effort, they had morphed into John and Nancy Miller, a retired couple from Bakersville, Illinois, who were enjoying their golden years in a small and charming beach house on the island of Puerto Rico.

  The rouse wasn’t hard at all for mom and dad to play. They had spent most of their lives pretending to be people they were not, becoming experts at blending in and going unnoticed.

  I’d visited often, also playing the part that seemed to fit the script. To their neighbors I was Mary, a recent college grad from the States who was dutifully checking on her parents every couple of months with a long weekend getaway to their new home.

  It was like no other part I’d played and I found that I was actually happy while pretending to be someone normal and average during those trips.

  Dad would mow the lawn or spend countless hours in his vegetable garden on the side of the house. Mom and I would shop down in the open air market or drive into the heart of town to walk the rows of shops.

  It was like a parallel universe, one that didn’t include stashing a cache of guns and forged emergency travel documents under your bed.

  It was… nice.

  That is, up until the day I showed up unexpectedly to surprise mom for her birthday and found the house empty and ransacked.

  In that moment, any traces of the character I was happily playing, Mary, had disappeared. I was once again Marina, the true daughter of two of the best field agents that Mother Russia had ever produced.

  I’ve been searching for them ever since, doing whatever their ransom demanded of me, regardless of the personal danger it put me in.

  But, it was never enough.

  There was always one more job, one more gig or assignment that they required before my parents would be released. That’s when I decided to change the rules and play hardball. I’m no one’s puppet. No one’s. My parents had escaped that tyranny when they were younger and sure as hell, I wasn’t going to become enslaved to the very people who sought to regain that power over us.

  I needed another plan, another way to get my parents back safely without selling my soul to do it, although the thought had crossed my mind once or twice.

  That’s where Beau fell into the picture.

  The little I know of him from the half-assed chase he’s been charging behind me for the past few months has told me a lot about him.

  He’s smart.

  He’s resourceful.

  He doesn’t give up and he has the patience and skill to see things through, no matter how long it takes him
.

  He’s exactly what I need.

  The fact that he’s drop dead gorgeous in a way that makes my stomach flutter and my skin tingle doesn’t matter. Right now I need his mind, not his body.

  ~*~

  “Ready?” This is the third time I’m asking, knocking politely on the bathroom door.

  We needed to leave five minutes ago.

  I realize I’m throwing a lot at him. I realize he could have been a lot more difficult about all of this than he has been. But, still. We’ve got to go.

  We’ve already stayed longer than we should have.

  I can’t say for sure who’s been tracking me these last few days or who took the shot that was aimed at my head but missed by lucky chance, but I have a few good ideas who it could be.

  It’s not a very long list, but, in either case, it’s just as serious and we need to get the hell out of here before they show up.

  I’ve taken as many precautions as I could think to- making it look like Beau had been stood up at the bar last night and drunkenly taken a cab back to a hotel. That doesn’t mean that the attempted assassin isn’t perched somewhere outside just waiting to get his second chance with a better aimed bullet.

  If there’s one thing my parents have taught me, it’s never underestimate your opponent, but to be sure to make them underestimate you.

  If he’s outside waiting for me, or even for Beau now that I’ve dragged him into this situation, then he’s got one hell of a surprise waiting for him.

  That is, if Cinderella in there can hurry his ass up. At this rate, we’re going to miss our mark and squander a perfectly good chance at a clean escape.

  My fingers curl in and fist themselves, ready to pound against the thin wooden bathroom door again when it’s swung open, causing me to lose my balance a bit. Beau’s arms reach out and grab me as if I were at risk of completely falling over, even though I know I wasn’t.

  Rather than shake him off, which is what I would normally do in a situation like this, I find that I don’t instinctually cast off his else’s help, however unwarranted it is.