Chapter 30
As I sped along data tunnels, I obsessively marked each node of my path with a tiny data flag invisible to everyone but me. Sirius’s servers were notoriously hard to find, and if I got lost…
If I had been capable of it in my bodiless state, I would have shuddered at the thought of being trapped forever in a purgatory of consciousness without form.
Don’t think about it.
Just keep looking…
At last I found my destination. Now for the worst part.
Bracing myself for terrifying dissolution, I surged forward, visualizing my consciousness surfing in on a wave of data.
My wave smashed against the breakwater of their security, shattering me into data bits and tumbling me out of control.
Fighting terror, I dragged my tiny spark of consciousness to the edge of data stream. Slowly, painfully, I regrouped, seeking out my scattered bits and pulling them back together.
Oh, God, it had been months since I’d done this. What if the analysts had beefed up their security and I couldn’t get in at all?
Don’t think about that.
Keep trying.
It took three more nerve-shattering attempts before I finally popped into visibility in the safe haven of Sirius’s file repository.
Spider burst in only a few seconds later, making me jerk with surprise.
“Jesus!” I patted my avatar’s nonexistent heart. “I didn’t expect you to get here so fast.”
“Sorry,” Spider apologized. “I’m working late again. We’re still digging for intel on this terrorist.” The dark smudges under his eyes told me exactly how hard he’d been working, and for how long. He probably hadn’t gotten any more sleep than I had. “Have you gotten into Harchman’s server room already?” he added, a hopeful smile illuminating his tired face. “You’re amazing!”
“Um, no. I didn’t get into the server room; and I’m not amazing. Unfortunately. But I do have an important update and this was the best way to report. Is Stemp still here, too?”
“Probably.” Spider conjured a virtual keyboard out of thin air and typed rapidly.
Moments later Stemp’s avatar strode in, already speaking as the door closed behind him. “Webb said you have an update?”
“Yes, and a question. First I need to know if Kane is working for you. He’s at Harchman’s right now, and he’s bugged. Is the bug one of ours?”
“No.” Stemp’s reply was immediate and unequivocal, his face hardening. “Kane is a civilian. He was very clear about cutting all ties with the Department. If he is at Harchman’s, it is at his own behest. Find out what he’s doing and intervene if necessary. The mission is your top priority.”
I suppressed a shiver at his unspoken meaning. Kane had been debriefed when he resigned and all our protocols had been updated, but he would still pose a major security threat if he were captured by enemies, or worse, turned. If things went sour at Harchman’s, my next command from Stemp might be a kill order.
I drew a deep breath and switched topics. “Harchman is running a virtual reality network. I checked the sim archives and it looks as though Tawny and James Helmand are planning to plant a bomb on Harchman and blow him up at the Remembrance Day service where he’s scheduled to speak. In the sim, the blast vaporized Harchman completely and…” My throat constricted and my words came out in a dry croak at the memory of the carnage. “…killed everybody there.” I cleared my throat and took a slow breath. “Tawny must have given Helmand access to the network so he could create the sim. But at least we’ve got time to stop it.”
“How certain are you about the maker of the sim?” Stemp demanded.
“It was encrypted, but I’m positive it was James.”
“Very well. Webb, when your backdoor program becomes active, have Brock and Mellor pull the sim for evidence. I’ll contact the anti-terrorism teams and advise them to check the area to make sure no explosives have been planted in advance.”
“Okay.” I let out a breath of relief.
“You said Harchman was blown up,” Stemp added. “Not the bloodless death that our Remembrance Day terrorist promised.”
“No…” I said slowly. “And I checked all the sims. There was no sign of an ultrasound weapon or anything that even looked bottle-shaped. But Harchman just released a new app that pinpoints acts of violence so people can steer clear of them. Tawny might be planning to use his murder to boost publicity for the app. She’d inherit Harchman’s estate, and all the extra money from app along with it. But I feel like there’s something missing in that theory. If she is the Remembrance Day terrorist, why would she put inaccurate information in the threat?”
“And you said Riel asked about the weapon,” Stemp prompted.
“Yes. Were you listening in on the bug?”
“Not personally. The analysts will have the record.”
“Right, I’ll want to listen to that later.” I switched back to the topic at hand. “At our dinner tonight Riel hinted that he knew about the weapon and what it could do, but he wouldn’t go into detail because Labelle was there. I think Holt was right; Riel doesn’t trust Labelle. I was trying to get more information out of Riel when the alert came in about the intruders at my house. Did you get them, by the way?”
“Yes. They are awaiting your questions. Not very comfortably.”
“Good.” I gave him a smile. “Thank you.” My smile slipped. “So, back to our terrorist. Even though everything points to Tawny and James, I’m still not convinced that Riel isn’t somehow involved. Or maybe Riel is actually our terrorist, and Tawny and James are copycats. Maybe they heard about the threat and decided it was a perfect opportunity to get rid of Harchman. Everybody would assume it was part of the terrorist attack so they wouldn’t be looking for murder suspects. Or who knows? Maybe they’re all working together; or maybe the original threat came from somebody else entirely. Is there any news from the other counterterrorism teams?”
“Not yet,” Stemp said. “We’ll update you if anything develops. Is there anything else?”
“That’s all for now. I’ll report in again later after I’ve gotten into the server room…” I secretly crossed my fingers for luck. “…but I wanted to make sure this intel got passed on right away.”
“Very well.” Stemp gave me a small smile. “Good luck.”
“Thanks. Talk to you later.”
Slipping into invisibility, I dove back into the internet.
To my surprise, my markers were still in place and the trip back to Harchman’s went smoothly. In the portal, I hesitated for only a moment before bracing myself and stepping through.
Once more, Kane snarled abuse at me, foul words that flayed my raw nerves. Rage and pain choked my faked contrition into hisses as the demeaning words forced themselves out between my clenched teeth.
I fought the unreasonable anger.
It’s only a cover story. Let it go.
Despite my efforts, my heart shrivelled with shame at the thought of someone listening and believing my act. I squeezed my eyes shut, trying to force away the thoughts.
Let it go, dammit.
Kane lay down on the bed beside me and took me into his arms, still gently massaging the base of my skull as he guided my head onto his shoulder. I battled the urge to pull away; to yell and slam him with my fists until he apologized.
Or begged.
Let him see what it was like to crawl and snivel…
Pressing a kiss to the top of my head, Kane continued to massage my scalp. The knotted muscles resisted him while I lay tensely in his embrace.
Breathe. Relax.
The pain slowly eased, and my anger ebbed with it.
Kane would never treat me that way in real life. This was strictly a cover, and a good one at that. I was lucky to have him with me; lucky he was a top agent who could think on his feet.
Or on his back.
My lips turned up at the thought, amusement banishing the last of my dark emotions. Kane cuddled me closer and pressed another kiss to the top of my head.
Limp with reaction, I melted against him. Laying an arm over his chest, I took comfort from the steady reassuring beat of his heart. His contempt and anger might be far too real when he discovered what I was about to do.
I allowed myself a few precious moments, then returned to duty with a sigh. No turning back now.
I let my hand roam across the hard planes of his chest. “I’m really sorry. Can I make it up to you?” I murmured.
His hand stilled on my neck. “I don’t know. Can you?”
“May I try?” I hauled myself up onto one elbow to look down at him, gliding my hand down over the corrugations of his abs.
Heat kindled in his eyes. “You may.”
I was committed now.
Probably should be committed to a mental institution, because this was pure craziness. I summoned up every exhibitionist fantasy I’d ever read about and slid my hand lower.
Kane growled satisfaction as I fondled him through his pants, his erection hardening under my hand.
He would stop me if he didn’t want to do this, wouldn’t he?
Or would he hate me for forcing him to choose between blowing our cover or playing out this scene for our observers?
His arm tightened around me and I slowed my stroking. Did he want me to stop?
Apparently not. His free hand moved to the waistband of his pants.
Undid the button and slid the zipper down.
My mouth went dry.
Taking my hand, he placed it on the hard muscle below his navel. The landing strip of coarse hair tickled my palm, enticing my hand lower. My fingertips made small circles, creeping inside the warmth of his clothes, under the elastic of the snug black underwear that never failed to turn me on.
Despite my discomfort at the thought of an audience, heat grew between my legs. Hellhound’s rough whisper from long ago echoed in my memory. “You’re all hot an’ slippery, darlin’. Ya like the danger, don’t ya? Ya like knowin’ ya might get caught.”
God, maybe he was right.
Or maybe I was just so pathetically eager to get it on with Kane that I didn’t care who listened in.
I rejected both thoughts. Irrelevant. This needed to happen, or my plan wouldn’t work. Duty first.
Yep, duty. That’s what this was…
My fingertips searched lower, encountering steel hardness encased in hot velvet skin. Kane groaned as I traced his contours, his hips thrusting up to meet my touch.
His hand clamped on the back of my neck. “Suck it.” The harsh dominant voice was back, but this time it sent shivers cascading down to tingle in every erogenous zone.
I had only a moment to wonder whether this was the true Kane or if he was still playing the bad-boy part I’d assigned him. With one hand he freed himself from the confines of his pants, his other hand fisting in my hair and shoving my head downward.
After that first rough gesture he didn’t push me. His hand remained buried in my hair, tightening while I slowly explored. Savouring the taste and feel of him, I reveled in his groans and intakes of breath while I alternated hard suction with teasing flicks of my tongue.
His body tensed under me. “Stop.” The word came out in a guttural growl. “Strip.”
Heart thumping, I slid off the bed, making sure I stood near my discarded purse to drop my pants. They puddled around my ankles and I crouched as if to fumble with them. My phone was mercifully accessible near the top of the purse and I reached in just as Kane sat up to tear off his clothes.
“Hurry.” Kane knelt on the bed, rolling on a condom and giving me a sizzling up-and-down scrutiny.
“My pants are caught on my guns,” I muttered. “I’ll take the holsters off…”
“Leave them.” His teeth bared in a savage grin. “They’re sexy. Get naked except for your weapons.”
I didn’t have to fake the trembling of my hands as I worked my pant legs over the holsters. Lucky Riel already knew I was armed.
The thought of Riel watching this little show made me hesitate in my bra and thong. Exposed, my ass tingled as though I could actually feel the eye of the camera on it.
Dammit, stop thinking that. There were no cameras. I had checked. I knew it.
And anyway, it was too late to stop now. I grabbed my phone and flicked on its recording app, hiding the movement behind my thigh as I stood.
Kane pulled me onto the bed. Tossing me roughly onto my back, he covered my body with his, allowing me a perfect opportunity to conceal my phone under the pillow with only its microphone exposed.
A surge of gratitude for his perceptiveness mingled with sudden excitement at the hard contact of his body. He pressed hungry kisses on my lips, my throat, my cleavage. A tidal wave of lust suffused me and I writhed under him, every nerve electrified.
Shameless now, I pulled off my bra and cupped my breasts, offering them to him and moaning in bliss while he licked and sucked. His teeth closed lightly on one nipple with a gentle tug that fired jolts of sensation to the centre of my being. Arching up to him with an inarticulate cry, I rode the fiery updraft of pleasure, my hands greedily devouring the iron contours of his arms and shoulders.
Scattering kisses down my body, he moved lower in bed, then paused. In an instant of eye contact, he asked and I answered.
Yes.
God, yes.
He pushed my thong down to my ankles, leaving them bound by the soft elastic while he lifted my legs over his head and nibbled down the inside of my thigh.
Panting, I let him press my knees up and apart, my body blazing with hunger. The first touch of his mouth left me molten, my moans rising while he pinned me to the bed and teased me with the same light strokes of his tongue and hard hot suction I’d inflicted on him.
Each time I tensed on the edge of orgasm he drew back, barely touching me; then urging me on again until I was blind and deaf to everything but the fire in my veins and the sound of my own begging.
Again the hot tension surged up; again he pulled back, leaving me quivering on the edge.
“Please…” My voice was only a ragged gasp. “Please… please…”
His hot mouth descended and my world detonated in glowing shards of pure sensation. Wave after wave of ecstasy submerged me, slowly subsiding to leave me limp and panting.
Before I could catch my breath Kane flipped me over, strong hands clamping on my hips to pull me to my knees. Opening my legs, he entered me with slow strokes, easing in only to back out; pressing in tantalizingly farther each time.
Whimpers of need escaped me. “Please… John… please… now… now…”
At last he filled me with a long thrust.
“Mine,” he growled over my hiss of satisfaction.
Another slow withdrawal, my body clenching around him in protest at the loss.
A harder thrust, burying himself to the hilt and setting off fireworks of pleasure.
“…You…” He pulled slowly out again and I whimpered and rocked backward in an attempt to hold him. “…Are…” He drove deep inside me, wrenching a cry of rapture from my throat. “Mine!”
His tempo quickened. Hard deliberate thrusts awakened every nerve, igniting brilliant sparks of sensation.
“John… omigod…”
Hands braced on the headboard, I slammed back to meet him over and over. The sparks coalesced into pools of heat spreading and spiralling back in on themselves, glowing ever brighter.
Electric tingles raced over me, my cries rising and quickening.
Every muscle tensed.
Sensation amplified.
Contracted to a single incandescent point…
Exploded with supernova brilliance.
I soared mindless on the expanding edge of the shockwave, my senses filled with Kane’s scent, the slap of flesh on flesh, my own raw-throated cries beyond words.
Before the first wave could ebb another orgasm blasted me; a volcano erupting into earthshattering cataclysm as Kane drove home again and again, his fingers digging into my hips, his harsh breaths mingling with mine.
White-hot, all thought vaporized.
I was everything. Nothing.
Pure sensation.
Kane roared like a wild beast.
His thighs steel-hard, he strained me to him, surging inside me for long moments before falling forward to wrap his arms around me. I collapsed and we lay panting facedown, our bodies still joined.
And I slid my hand under the pillow and ended the recording.