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Another text came through, and Gideon felt his heart skip a beat. Not Ash this time but Eve.
I need to see you.
He responded immediately. Be there in an hour.
He didn’t expect her to reply, and she didn’t.
Since he hadn’t showered since yesterday, he stripped on his way to the bathroom, all the while his mind rifling through the reasons she finally wanted to see him. Unless she’d had a setback, her rehab was likely ending in a couple of weeks. Did it bother him that he didn’t know if she’d had any problems with her recovery? Yes. It bothered him a lot, but he’d given her the space she’d asked for. Was that time finally up, or was there another reason she wanted to see him?
He refused to even consider that she didn’t want to go back to OZ. No matter her heritage or genealogy, Eve belonged at Option Zero. She was made for a covert lifestyle. Not only did she excel at her skills, Eve practically glowed when she was on an op, inspired by the challenge, the adrenaline rush, all of it. Eve Wells thrived while living on the edge, and Gideon would do everything he could to remind her of that.
Question was, did she also still see him as her partner, or had he destroyed the best thing that had ever happened to him?
* * *
The instant Eve answered the door, Gideon knew immediately that a discussion about their relationship was the last thing on her mind. He had seen Eve in many modes over the years, and based upon her expression, as well as her clothing of cargo pants and a fitted button-down shirt, she was in full operative mode.
“What’s going on?”
“Follow me.” With that, she turned and headed toward her office. He was pleased to see that not only had her cast been removed, she was no longer using crutches. Though she limped slightly, her rehabilitation was definitely headed in the right direction.
Her demeanor, however, did concern him. It wasn’t exactly frosty, but it was far from friendly.
He followed her, coming up with all kinds of scenarios of what might be going on. He stopped at her office door and raised his brow at what he saw.
A few weeks ago, the office had been unnaturally neat, which had made sense, as she was never here to use it. That had changed. Pages and pages of text covered four large bulletin boards.
“What the hell, Eve? What’s all this?”
“There’s a mole within my father’s inner circle. He believes someone wants to destroy the family. I’m going to find out who it is and stop them.”
“That was a lot of information in three sentences. Let’s start at the beginning.”
Gideon was torn between relief and sadness. Relief because she was sharing this with him—he had feared he had destroyed her trust for good. Sadness because it was obvious she’d been working on this without him for weeks.
While she filled him in, he walked around the room, getting a sense for the intel she’d been given. Stopping at one board, he read a few emails that claimed the monarchy was an archaic form of government and needed to be demolished. That wasn’t much of a threat. Many people felt that way.
He glanced over his shoulder. “Aren’t there threats against the monarchy all the time? As threats go, most of these seem fairly innocuous, like disgruntled grumbling.”
“Threats are nothing unusual, though not as often as some might think. And I agree that by OZ standards, these aren’t serious.”
“Why does your father see these differently?”
“There’s recent intel that makes it seem there’s a leak within his inner circle.” She pointed to another board. “Those texts mention a secret meeting the king had with France’s president, Emile Bernard, last month. No one, other than the family and his closest advisors, knew about it.”
“Why the secrecy?”
“They were discussing the possibility of decreasing the taxes on certain products. It wasn’t even that big of a deal, other than they’re good friends and just wanted to have a friendly visit without press.”
Gideon nodded, aware that the friendship between the king and the president had always caused speculation that France would some day regain the land it had given up over five hundred years ago. It would never happen, but that didn’t prevent splinter groups from wanting to make it happen.
“Couldn’t it have been a leak on the other end? Maybe Bernard’s people?”
“Yes, except there are two other instances where intel was leaked from here. We’re fairly sure it’s on our end.”
“Where are the most recent messages?”
“Over here.” She went over to a board filled with what looked like dozens of messages.