Alace

Fingertips lightly resting on the sides of the mug of coffee placed on the counter in front of her, Alace kept her eyes on Eric as he moved around the kitchen. Heat soaked through the heavy ceramic to her skin, and the scent of a full-bodied dose of caffeine wafted to her nostrils, but she chose to ignore those sensory inputs, focusing instead on the way his ass was displayed to perfection in his jeans. “We had a sex-a-thon.” Her blurted statement earned her a glance of his whiskey-dark eyes from over his shoulder, an amused smile crinkling the corners. “What?” She made the mock exclamation with a grin of her own. “We did!”

Spatula in hand, Eric reached out to stir the in-progress scrambled eggs, and Alace was treated to a play of muscles all across his bare back. The time between had changed him in subtle ways. While he hadn’t been soft before, he’d definitely lost a couple of inches around his waist, going from firm to definition, the difference highlighting his physique in an extremely attractive way. Her smile faded as she wondered how she appeared to have changed to him. Better or worse? Ducking her head, she lifted the mug and sipped the hot liquid, grateful to have something to keep her hands busy.

Eric transferred the fluffy, yellow mass from skillet to platter. Bacon was already on the counter in front of her, English muffins toasted and wrapped in a basket at her elbow, and an assortment of jams and jellies set out nearby. Very domestic.

When they’d come downstairs looking for food, Eric had surprised her by offering to cook. One detriment to her decades-long transient lifestyle was a serious lack of skills in the kitchen. She’d never really had a chance to learn, and no overwhelming desire to create an opportunity. Sure, she could do small meals, more than suitable for a single diner, but nothing complicated. Not that eggs and bacon are a complicated dish, but he makes it look so easy.

“We did,” he agreed, placing the eggs on the counter as he moved around to where she sat. “And I—” He cupped her chin in his hand, fingers steadying her face as he swooped in for a kiss. “—loved every minute of it.”

If it seems too good to be true…

For an instant, she was transported back to the SUV on the side of the road, cop in the window and Eric—fucking, fucking Eric—showing he had serious acting chops. She swallowed and tilted her face for another kiss, forcing down the idea before it had a chance to take root. “Me—” She kissed him a third time, settling back to her stool as he lifted, putting slight distance between them. “—too.” This was an unfamiliar mindset and one that didn’t yet sit comfortably on her skin. He knew her name and what she was, and she was sitting in his kitchen as if this were normal when it had jumped the crevasse between ordinary and bizarre the moment he’d shown in that New Mexico forest. It’ll take work, she reminded herself of what she’d told him last night. Change always does.

He perched on an adjacent stool and waited for Alace to serve herself before spooning food onto his plate. To Alace, the silence wrapping around them felt confining, as if it were a constrictor, slowly tightening to starve them of the air needed to keep living. Every movement felt awkward, forced, as if she were following unfamiliar stage direction from an untrusted source. She opened her mouth twice, discarding the conversation starter that had popped into her head each time, which meant the silence stretched on. Eric clearly did not feel the same, and she understood why when he began talking.

“You can’t leave that man out there.” Fork frozen in midair, slowly Alace twisted to stare at him. Eric wasn’t even looking at her, eyes focused on his plate, mouth pulled to one side with a look of distaste. For me, or for what he’s saying? “He’ll just find another partner, and then it will all begin again.” He glanced up and his lips bowed down as he shook his head, looking pained. “How do you do it?”

Spine straight, Alace rested the tines of her fork against the edge of her plate. “Do it?” Is he asking how I killed Waterdrum? Coach? Does he know about any others, really, or is he fishing? Alace ran every word spoken inside this house back through her head and drew a shaky breath. Nothing damaging said here, but in his SUV? Nerves thrumming under her too-tight skin, she unhooked her ankles from around the legs of her stool, a scarce breath away from fleeing. “How do I do it?”

“Yeah.” He gestured with his fork, drawing aimless circles in the air above his plate. “Deal with knowing people like that exist. That they are able to just go on about their business every day? No one does anything. Fuck,”—he shook his head—“most people wouldn’t believe the things you’ve had to witness could even happen.

“I remember there was an in-service for volunteers in the school district last year about human trafficking and two of the female teachers stood around afterwards complaining about the time spent talking about something that was never going to happen here.” His voice rose in register, mocking his coworkers, “Not in our neighborhood. We’re good people.” He scooped up more eggs and then stabbed a piece of bacon. Pausing a moment before shoving it into his mouth, he said, “So blind to the criminal things in the world they couldn’t even spend a half an hour making the world safer for the kids they teach without bitching about it, and you have to be immersed inside it every day. How do you do it?”

That was so different from what she’d expected, it took her breath away. A kind of boon, really, his ability to put himself in her shoes even if he’d never taken a step down this path with her. “I just…it’s my life, Eric. I’ve put myself in the position of being exposed to evil.” Fingers trembling, she managed to lift the fork without clinking against the plate. “Since forever, it’s how I see the world. I have to. Even good guys get painted with the same brush until I really get to know them.” A reminder to herself to trust her gut where Eric was concerned. He’s not one of the bad guys.

“I can see that.” He spoke slowly, his tone musing as he smeared purple jam on a muffin. “Like in court, my go-to is innocence, and I hold tight to that until I’ve been given overwhelming evidence to the contrary. It has to be proven in my head—no doubts—before I can walk up to that table with a clear conscience, ready to do what I need to in order to take the bastards down.” He nodded, getting onboard with the idea. “With your experiences, it would be natural to swing far on the other side of the spectrum. Everyone would be guilty by default and have to earn a place on the good-guy scale.” Teeth flashing white, he shone a smile her direction. “Even me.”

“Even you,” she admitted softly, letting her toes curl around the rungs of the stool again.

“I can work to get there, baby.” He accepted her statement at face value, and Alace was stunned with the sense of ease creeping back in the room where a few moments ago she had nearly convinced herself to run. “I’ll work to stay there, too.” He leaned sideways in invitation, and she met him halfway, lips brushing lightly against his. “You’re entirely worth it.”

“If we’re…are we going to try and make something work here?” Alace winced, but didn’t know how to finesse the question, glad she’d finally decided to just lay it out there and see where his head was. She just didn’t have the patience for any kind of a mating dance to see if he felt the same. The fact she was in his house and had been in his bed gave her some confidence, but her radar was all off where Eric was concerned. After Ranger Rick, every instinct was in question. Everything inside her was screaming to move forwards at warp speed with Eric, but what if she was wrong?

“Yes.” His response had a firmness her question had lacked, and left no room for doubt. “You and me, baby.” He grinned and bit the muffin, leaving a smear of purple in the corner of his mouth. Great, now I want to lick him. A heavy tingling hit between her legs, and she shifted on the stool.

Focus. He needed to understand how it would be with her. Not that she’d ever had anything that could remotely be called a relationship, but she knew it all had to start with having both parties on the same page. “I can’t talk about what I do.” He stopped moving, his expression attentively focused on her. “I can’t tell you…anything. You’re going to hate it.”

As she watched, his face softened, a gentle look coming over his features. “Alace, I can’t talk to you about my job, either.”

Her head shook, the motion sharp and quick, hair falling across her forehead. “It’s not the same, Eric. You know it’s not the same.”

“What are you afraid of?” Head tipped to one side, he offered her a crooked smile. “Is it of this—” His brows drew together, and he motioned to the space between them. “—working out? Do you want it to work out?”

Alace sat and looked at him. The expression on Eric’s face didn’t change, patient affection was blended with the tiniest bit of amusement, all of that holding strong. He didn’t get impatient, just gave her time and let her work through what he’d asked. What if it does work out, for a while? What if in four weeks when I have to go and do a gig, he gets tired of the secrets? What if he won’t let me go for a long job? With a start, she realized she didn’t want to go. For the first time in her memory, she wasn’t looking forwards to the next mark. Hadn’t even logged into the servers to see what might be next. I still have to deal with Ranger Rick. That’s all. It’s not done, yet. She knew the thought was a rationalization. Dealing with the ranger wouldn’t take long, not knowing what she did now. If she worked it right, there might be a single overnight away from Eric, maximum. I want this. Heart in her throat, she opened and closed her mouth, constructing and rejecting a dozen statements she knew would reveal her desire. “Stay safe,” Regg always tells me. He’d never steer me wrong. “Maybe.” She offered the uncertain word like a compromise, relieved when Eric accepted it with grace.

“Maybe,” he repeated with a half smile. “I’ll admit, it’s not the answer I’d hoped for, but I’ll take it with the caveat it’s only until you can say yes.”

“I have to go back to New Mexico. But,”—she shook her head—“that’s all I can say. I have to go back, and then if you want, I’ll come here again.”

“Always, always come home.”

***

Curled into the cushions of a broad bench, Alace watched the flickering flames of a fire Eric had built for her in his patio firepit. She had been out here for some time alone, explaining that she needed to place some business calls—at the time she wondered to herself, That’s what I’m calling it now?—and Eric hadn’t argued, simply making certain she’d be comfortable as she worked. I don’t know if I’ve ever met someone who could just…roll with it like he does. Even Regg would have had questions.

And that was the core of why she was still out here, phone in hand, eyes on the fire. Regg needed to know what had gone down, and she couldn’t delay having him monitor any and all news, both public and darkside, looking for whispers of what Ranger Rick might have thrown into the mix. She also needed to check the servers for what came next. Regg needed to know, but he would want to understand what the fuck she was doing up here. Here being Denver. She knew he would not be pleased when she told him the conversations she’d had with Eric. Forget the fact she’d returned to a site without any kind of cover, just as herself. Once Regg knew everything, he would then rightly expect a certain amount of situation management that she was unwilling to undertake.

So, I don’t tell him.

She shut down the idea hard, shoving it back into a corner room in her mind and blocked it in place by setting a thousand reasons why she had to tell Regg in front of it. They were all valid, every one of them. Honor among thieves meant, in order to trust Regg not to screw her over if a bigger price tag came calling, she had to be trustworthy. Keeping him up to date on every aspect of a gig allowed her to stay in front of the leading edge of any repercussions for her actions. Regg was her out, every time, and had never failed her. But he could only do his job if she gave him the right tools.

Don’t tell him. It’s not part of the gig.

It was. Eric had tracked her down to a cabin that her marks had used to slaughter untold kids, and God knew what else might have gone on in that small building. He’d tracked her down, and she’d used him for egress, to escape. He saved me. She rolled her eyes. Okay, maybe I’d already saved myself, but he made walking out of there tons easier. Regg wouldn’t take to that news. Eric tracking her down not once, but twice. I never told him about Alabama, either. What she’d said was she got a feeling, and Regg knew enough to understand she followed her gut.

So, why am I so resistant to the idea of following my intuition now?

Through the years, Regg was the only one who’d had her back. The only one she’d let close enough to have information that could save or bury her, and she trusted him to keep her above ground. He had never failed her. Always on the other end of the phone, and more than once his willingness to go to extremes on her behalf had kept her breathing. Not telling him felt uncomfortable, like a woolen sweater worn over naked, sweaty skin. A body could do it, but it wouldn’t be an enjoyable sensation.

She sighed and shifted, lifting her feet to the cushion. Wrapping her arms around her bent knees, she dangled her phone in one hand as she looked towards Eric’s house. Flickering lights in the living room told her he was still watching TV. No shadows near windows or doors, he wasn’t lurking and keeping an eye on her. She could see wine glasses from dinner sitting on the counter near the sink. Eric was trusting her and giving the space she’d requested.

He’s no threat to Regg.

The same could not be said in reverse.

If Regg knew Eric had knowledge about what Alace did, that would be on her to deal with. But Eric knew she had a partner, and given his track record, it wasn’t out of bounds to think he could be successful in tracking down Regg, too. If given the right motivation, he would. That meant he was a threat to Regg. At least that’s how Regg would see it.

Eric’s not a threat, though.

She knew that in her bones. Not a threat to her, and not a threat to Regg.

Eric would probably shake his hand and thank him for watching out for me all this time. She snorted. Not like Regg hadn’t profited from the arrangement, but she knew he wasn’t in it just for the money. They were friends.

She lifted the phone and woke it, tapping in her password to make her call.

***

Regg

About halfway through their conversation, he allowed himself to lean back in the computer chair and stare blankly at the ceiling as Alace talked him through what had gone sideways in New Mexico. Nearly two days ago.

When he’d seen the call coming in, he’d pointed to it as he stood, getting a tolerant nod from his wife. She knew business came first. Most of the time, anyway. Hell, the hunters he worked with depended on him being available. Sometimes their very lives rested on his ability to work a solution on the fly. I’m good at my job. Work often came in waves, so it wasn’t as if he were on call all the time, just full-time during the end phases of a hunt.

Alace was a special case. Not only was she his first full-time hunter, but she was also the longest-lived one. He knew her inside and out, upside down and right-side up. He’d known her for half her life, and had enough intel on her to guide his every step. He knew when she was dragging and needed a quick, life-affirming job to motivate her. Could recognize when she needed a more intricate puzzle to solve, a cerebral exercise ending with her exorcising her demons by dealing with a despised monster. He could also identify when she needed him to surprise her with special treatment, and spot those moments that told him she needed some downtime to settle her nerves.

She trusted him. Alace was open to a degree most of his other hunters never reached, because of their own life experiences pre-hunter status. She’d started so young, she didn’t have those defenses in place. Not his Alace. His Alace was special in a lot of ways. Until a couple of years ago, he would have thought her incapable of being anything other than his Alace, open and real. Alace trusted him and gave that back in spades, never holding secrets when it came to debriefing during or after a job.

Until about two years ago.

Colorado.

He stumbled at the memory and frowned.

When she’d bugged out of Colorado, she had lied to him for the first time. Ever. Her evasion such a novelty, it had been her own fault he looked closer. If she’d just told him what happened, he’d have understood. Playing at being someone else all the time, it would be more unusual if she didn’t occasionally fall into the emotional trap of becoming who she was pretending to be. That one had been different. For one, it had been the wrong job to fuck up on and then her unwillingness to fess up had made him dig until he’d found what he needed. Eric Ward was supposed to be her route to access his father, not her fuckbuddy. There had been nearly three mill hanging on her getting that access and coming out the other end with the older Ward down.

It wasn’t the first time a hunt had been interrupted by circumstances beyond her control. But it had been the first time she was unwilling to circle back around and take care of business the way he expected. The failure was a first, and a smear he wasn’t happy having on his otherwise spotless record. But it had been her lie that bothered him the most.

Then it happened again. In Alabama, she’d lied a second time. Only after taking care of business, thank God. That meant she hadn’t gotten in the way of the deposit into his accounts, and with Lena’s lifestyle demands, it was critical to keep that cash flowing in. But she’d lied again, and he’d dug even deeper, finding CCTV footage of a certain vehicle licensed out of—gasp—Colorado. Ward the younger. Again.

So tonight, he listened. Eyes closed, he listened and judged.

Alace spun out thousands of details, a wealth of shiny information to distract him, no doubt. She’d been days out of contact, an unexpected absence, and most of her details lined up. The things that didn’t, though? They were glaring.

She would be headed back into the job tomorrow, and he had no question she’d deal. The niggly details were different than he’d anticipated, so throughout the first part of the call, he’d made lots of notes on the computer. Just in case he ever saw another situation like this, he could leverage the knowledge differently. Now she was talking about the extraction, and it was just one more thing that wasn’t ringing true.

“No, I’m not far. I’ll be back midafternoon. I’m beat, planning on sleeping in.” Alace’s voice was tight, the cadence of her words slightly askew. He lifted his head and looked at the computer screen to see validation in the oscillation lines mapping how stressed her voice was. Liar.

“Okay, honey. You need me to order you a pizza delivered or something? Anything you need?”

“No, I’m good. Just going to crash.” He studied the screen and shook his head side to side. Liar.

Mouse in hand he clicked, and clicked again, green lines filling the screen. He clicked and scrolled, zooming in on the steady red dot, making it large enough to see the town name, then scrolled again, zooming out. With a click and drag, he moved the map to show the outline of the states.

“Okay. Rest well. I’m glad you got out safe. Do me a favor, leave the phone on when you go back in so I can track you?”

Silence, and that itself was telling.

“No, I’ll follow normal protocol. Contact you once everything is complete. I’m planning on a few weeks here afterwards.” He heard her swallow through the call. “I’m tired, Regg. I was thinking of taking some time off. I haven’t done that for a while.”

He grimaced, remembering a recent conversation with Lena. Her car was nearly a year old and she wanted to trade up soon. If Alace took time off, that would delay the next payday. Turning the chair, he looked at a computer screen on the desk beside him. Fourteen viable contacts, three of which would tweak her if she saw them. He’d already built info cases, documentation and details filling folders ready to drop out onto the server. Click and drag, and it was work of moments to do exactly that. “Okay, honey. I put some new gigs on the server, but they can wait a few days.” Best to set expectations. “Let me know the moment you get out of the woods, okay?”

“Okay.” She hesitated, and he waited, rewarded when she told him, “You know how much I appreciate you taking care of me, right?”

“We’re a team, Alace. Always will be.”

She disconnected, and he watched the map, seeing the red dot disappear, knowing that was her turning off the phone. Less than twenty yards from where that had last been visible was a steady green teardrop. The tracker in her backpack. Hundreds of miles from where she’d claimed to be. Regg slowly shook his head. Liar.