Page 11 of Echoes and Oaths (Guardian Security Dynasty #4)

J inx waited in the shadows, crouching beneath the veil of darkness until Eira and Teo disappeared inside the small farmhouse. The soft click of the door locking echoed faintly in the humid Venezuelan night. Crickets sang in the distance, and the low hum of cicadas pulsed through the heavy air.

Blowing out a slow breath, he dragged a hand down his face. He’d screwed up. Big time.

Telling her what he was there to do … that was one of Guardian’s cardinal rules. Never reveal who they were, what they did. No one was supposed to know the truth. They were Shadows that lived between the lines of war and peace. But tonight, he’d shattered that rule .

He hadn’t told her anything about Guardian Security, but he’d given her enough.

Enough to end him. To blow his cover and send this entire mission spiraling into hell.

And maybe … maybe that was why he’d told her.

A part of him wanted her to have control.

To take back the narrative of a story that had started with love, burned down to ash, and left a child in its wake.

She’d promised she wouldn’t tell Ortega.

And he believed her. Once her house lights dimmed, Jinx turned and made his way back toward the ridge line where he’d left Raven.

The darkness pressed close, but the moon carved thin silver lines over the distant rolling hills and the jagged silhouette of the jungle beyond.

He tapped on his comms as he approached.

“Well? How’d that go?” Raven’s voice crackled in his ear when he was still a couple hundred yards away.

“About as well as you’d expect,” Jinx muttered, his boots crunching over the brittle brush and gravel as he closed the distance.

Brando cut in. “Fury says Mateo’s authorized.”

Jinx grunted at the update. “Acknowledged.”

Raven lifted her chin when he finally stepped into the clearing. “And how exactly are you going to work that? How’s Mateo supposed to magically materialize after years off the grid?”

Jinx kept walking, cutting a path toward where their truck waited, half-hidden beneath the twisted branches of a ceiba tree. The thick scent of wet earth lingered in the air.

“Relatively easy,” he said without missing a step. “Brando, I need you to get with the powers that be. Build me a cover. A mercenary, contracted overseas for at least the last two years. Make it airtight. Enough to stand up to Ortega and the Ghost’s scrutiny.”

“And then?” Raven asked, matching his stride.

Jinx’s jaw flexed. “Then I come back. Mateo returns. I’ll make my presence known to Ortega and the Ghost … and see which bites the hook first.”

He strode past Raven, snatched the parabolic mic from where he’d left it, and kept going toward the truck.

“You think it’ll be that easy?” Raven asked, hustling to catch up, her footfalls light but hurried on the dirt path.

Jinx climbed behind the wheel. “These men are soldiers. Men of war. They remember Mateo as a stone-cold killer. If they have questions, Mateo will answer them in blood. ”

Raven slid into the passenger seat, shutting the door quietly behind her. “And what about Eira? And your baby?”

There was a beat of silence as Jinx shoved the keys into the ignition but didn’t start the engine. His fingers tightened on the steering wheel.

“Boy or girl?” she asked quietly, without looking at him.

“A son,” Jinx said. “His name’s Teo.” Jinx’s breath caught, a subtle hitch he tried to hide. He swallowed hard. The sight of his son in the arms of the woman he loved would be forever imprinted in his mind.

“She still loves you, you know,” Raven added, her voice softer now. “She gave your son your name. Or at least, the name you gave her.”

Jinx didn’t answer. He just started the truck, pulling it out from beneath the cover of the trees and onto the narrow dirt road that led back toward the hills.

Brando’s voice came through the comms again. “There’s a problem.”

Jinx nodded grimly. Yeah, he knew there was. The man was going to be one hell of an issue. “Ortega,” Jinx provided.

“Yeah,” Brando agreed. “If he’s protecting her and knows you’re back … is he gonna fight for her? ”

“She told him she and Teo were mine,” Jinx said, voice clipped.

Raven let out a low whistle. “That’s not good. That means he knows you’ve got a weakness.”

Jinx exhaled heavily, staring out at the empty stretch of road ahead. The sky was ink-black, and stars splattered like broken glass across the heavens.

“Unless I convince him otherwise,” he said quietly.

Raven’s head snapped toward him. “And how the hell do you plan on doing that?”

Brando spoke before Jinx could reply. “By not claiming the kid, denying her?”

“No.” Jinx’s voice was sharp, cutting through the air like a blade. “By proving that if anyone fucks with them, they’ll be obliterated.” If anyone hurt them, he’d cover the country in blood. No one would be able to stop him.

Raven shook her head, her dark ponytail swaying. “Which would require someone to actually fuck with them so you can make your point.” She glanced at him sideways. “Would she understand that? Would she understand you were making a point to keep her safe?”

Jinx was quiet for a long beat, the tension winding tight between them .

“If she doesn’t know about it,” he finally said, “what can she do?”

Raven arched a brow. “And if you’re not here to protect her, and somebody decides to mess with her?”

Jinx smiled then, slow and lethal, turning his head just enough to look at her. “You’ll be there.”

Raven blinked, her lips parting. “Say what now?”

“You’re going to stay with Eira,” Jinx said, his voice brooking no argument. “At the ranch.”

“And how’s that supposed to help you find and kill both the Ghost and Ortega?” Raven asked, folding her arms across her chest as she shot him a skeptical look.

Brando’s voice crackled through the comms, his dry chuckle slipping through the system. “It’ll allow him to focus.”

Jinx gave a short nod, not bothering to add more. Brando had hit the mark.

He guided the truck down the winding dirt road, weaving past sleeping goats curled alongside the road and stray dogs slinking through the shadows. The faint glow of lanterns from the small village ahead shimmered like stars trapped between the trees.

They drove in silence until he pulled the Land Cruiser into a thicket on the edge of the village, camouflaging it behind the deserted wreck of a house. The humid night pressed down on them, sticky and thick, the scent of earth heavy in the air.

Together, they made their way on foot through the maze of twisted trees and brush. They stopped at the small cinderblock house Jinx had used while he was in country during his mission. Its faded stucco walls blended into the darkness.

“I’ll wait outside,” Jinx said quietly when they reached the door. “You can bathe.”

Without waiting for her answer, he slid down the rough exterior wall and dropped to sit on the hard-packed ground. His legs stretched out in front of him, arms resting on his knees as he stared at the moonlit street.

Too much rattled around in his head. Eira, Teo, Ortega, the Ghost, what he’d told Eira and why, plus the emotion of seeing her and his baby. Raven’s relentless questions wouldn’t let him sort through it all. He needed quiet and space.

Raven lingered in the doorway, watching him like she wanted to say more. Finally, she nodded once.

“I’ll take care of your woman and child,” she said quietly. “If you need me, I’ll do it. But this probably isn’t the best use of my talents.”

Jinx’s gaze flicked up to her, the corner of his mouth twitching in something close to a smile.

“But it’ll allow me to make the best use of mine,” he replied. His voice dropped lower, edged with something fierce. “Keep her safe, Raven. That’s all I ask.”

She inclined her head, something almost soft flashing across her face. “When will you introduce us?” she asked.

Jinx exhaled heavily, his eyes drifting back to the empty field. “I don’t know yet,” he admitted. “I need to formulate a plan.”

Raven leaned against the doorframe, folding her arms as she watched him in the moon's dim light. “When you do, run it past me first,” she said. “Before you take it to the big dogs. You’re too close to this, emotionally involved. We don’t want them questioning our methods … or the mission.”

A muscle ticked in Jinx’s jaw, but he nodded. “Thank you for watching out for me.”

Raven nudged his boot with the toe of her shoe. “It’s what we do. Whatever it takes.”

A low chuckle rumbled in his chest, the first real sound of humor he’d made all night. “As long as it takes,” he echoed.

Raven slipped inside the house, the soft creak of the door closing behind her and echoing in the stillness. Jinx drew a long breath, letting his head tip back against the rough wall as he tried to untangle the emotions coiling like barbed wire in his gut.

The humid night wrapped around him, heavy and close, filled with the distant hum of insects and the faintest pulse of music drifting from somewhere deep within the village. The sharp scent of earth, sweat, and smoke clung to the air.

A faint rustle in the tall grasses nearby snapped his attention back to the present. His muscles tensed instantly, every sense sharpening as he focused on the sound. There it was again. A soft, hesitant shuffle.

From the shadows, a small, thin dog emerged. Its body was gaunt, ribs visible beneath a patchy coat, tail wagging low and tentative. The animal crept toward him, belly nearly brushing the ground, posture submissive but hopeful.

Jinx’s hand lifted slowly, palm open and still. The dog hesitated, then crawled closer, inch by inch, until it reached him. It sniffed his fingers, nose quivering, before inching forward to press against his thigh.

“Hey, little one,” Jinx murmured, his voice rough with something that wasn’t entirely fatigue.

He gently stroked the animal’s scruff, feeling the brittle, matted fur beneath his fingers.

As he scratched behind the dog’s ears, his touch skimmed something tight around its neck.

A length of twine, crude and biting into the skin. “Shit,” he whispered under his breath.

Carefully, methodically, he worked at the knots, using his pocketknife to slice away the twine without hurting the animal. The dog whimpered when the cord finally fell away and immediately rolled onto its back, paws lifted in surrender.

Jinx ran a hand over its skinny belly, offering the only comfort he could at that moment. Another refugee, he thought grimly. Just like the others. Left behind in the wreckage of drug wars, corruption, and violence.

The dog nosed at his boot, then settled quietly beside him, its head resting against his leg, knowing it had finally found somewhere safe.

Jinx stared out into the darkness, his hand absently stroking the dog’s fur.

The night stretched long and quiet, but his mind roared with noise. He would become Mateo again.

The man, the menace, the killer.

He knew that man intimately. Every scar, every cold calculation, every sin. Sliding back into Mateo’s skin would take no effort at all. It was like slipping on an old, battered jacket. One that had never really stopped fitting.

He would return once Brando secured his cover and Raven was settled at the ranch with Eira and Teo.

His fingers moved gently over the dog’s mangy fur as he closed his eyes, listening to the muffled sounds of Raven moving around inside the house, The creak of the old floorboards and the splash of water from the hand pump.

But his mind drifted back to Eira in the quiet spaces between those sounds. To her fierce, furious eyes. To the curve of her smile when she’d trusted him. To the little boy with dark hair who didn’t even know his father existed.

If Eira refused to leave … if she wouldn’t come back to America with him …

Then Mateo would have to stay. By staying, he’d give up the advantage of Guardian’s technology, of their weaponry, and of their money.

All things he’d used to make his way for the years he was undercover.

He’d give up his team, whic h was the only family he had left.

He’d be cut off, by himself, left with his savings, strong back, and the innate training of an assassin.

It would have to be enough. He’d make it enough.

This country wouldn’t change. The cartels would shift faces, and the power struggles would realign, but the violence would remain.

The war would continue. And if that were the case, then Mateo would remain, too.

He would stay in the darkness, sharp and dangerous, feared by all the men who preyed on the innocent.