Page 109

Dana watchedthe sun-worn lace curtains flutter in the open window above Jake’s head. The moonlight sallowed their color to a shade between eggshell and fresh butter. The radio on Jake’s hip crackled to life and Hartwell’s voice filled the small attic. “All units relay your position.”

Jake barked back his code, then gave Dana an insufferable wink.

As promised, he’d talked his way onto the protection detail, demoting Dana to glorified babysitter. She wasn’t even in the main part of the house with Claire and the other patients. She’d been sequestered to the attic with Jake, where his sharpshooting skills would be put to the test if the Reaper showed up. Assuming the murderous maniac wasn’t already inside.

She’d be lying if she said it wasn’t comforting having Jake on the case. The problem was, the safe house attic wasn’t big enough for both their egos, especially now that hers was bruised.

It hurt how easily he’d dismissed her theory. Dana didn’t want Claire to be involved in this anymore than he did. But Dana was trying to be rational. She’d convinced herself Dvita was the Reaper and because of it, had been blinded to any other option.

She wouldn’t let that happen again. Not if it meant more people would pay the ultimate price.

“You mind toning it down over there,” Jake taunted. “I can hear the gears turning in that mind of yours. It’s hard to concentrate.”

Dana glared at him, annoyed by the amusement on his face.

“Just admit you’re glad I’m here,” he teased.

“Yes, I’m overjoyed to be freezing to death in a dusty, cobweb filled attic in the middle of nowhere with you.”

“I know you’ve been to more remote places than a farm in Greenbelt, Maryland.” He smirked, shrugging out of his FBI field jacket. “And if you’re cold, just say so,” he said, draping the jacket over her shoulders.

It was still warm and smelled intoxicatingly like him, which shamefully subdued her annoyance.

“Better?” he asked.

Begrudgingly, she nodded.

“It’s really remote out here.”

“It’s a safe house, Gray. Keyword is safe.”

“I know,” she muttered, “but if the plan is to draw the Reaper out maybe we should’ve picked a place closer to the city.”

“It’s only a thirty-minute drive,” Jake replied. “Besides, hosting a shootout in the city seems a tad irresponsible. Out here there’s plenty of room for us to hide.”

He was right. The property was crawling with SWAT, BAU, US Marshals, and Metro officers. If the Reaper showed up, escape wouldn’t be an option.

Jake went back to his rifle, kneeling to adjust the scope another millimeter or so. The McMillan TAC-338A was an impressive piece of machinery. When they arrived, Dana had watched in awe as he assembled the thirteen-pound sniper rifle like it was as simple as putting batteries in a flashlight.

“Do you think you’ll have to use it?” she asked quietly.

Jake answered without looking at her. “Anyone already thinking about pulling the trigger has no business behind this kind of weapon.”

“Right,” Dana said, biting her lip, sorry she’d asked.

Jake finished his tinkering and sat up with a heavy exhale. “Didn’t mean to sound harsh. It’s just been a while since I’ve used something of this caliber. Brings back memories.”

“Ghazni?”

He nodded.

“Is it easier?” she asked. “Taking a life from so far away?”

Jake leaned back against the wall, his shoulder brushing against hers. “No. Double tap to the chest or picking ‘em off from 700 yards, it all weighs the same on your soul.” He turned to look at her, his blue eyes aglow in the moonlight. “But I don’t have to tell you that.”

Her chest tightened the way it always did when she thought about that day on the hill, when she’d taken the shot. The decision had been life or death. Jake or Meredith. She hated that it had been frighteningly easy. Hated that faced with the same dilemma, she wouldn’t change a thing. Dana reached out and grabbed one of Jake’s scarred hands, squeezing it. “I don’t regret it. You know that, right?”

“I shouldn’t have brought it up.”

Dana squeezed her conviction into his hand. “We need to be able to talk about these things if we’re ever going to move forward. Our cases, our losses, war …”

Jake exhaled, looking away again. “Being home is its own kind of war.”

“It doesn’t have to be.”

He looked at her. The confliction dancing in his eyes hollowed her insides. “Jake, I don’t want to be another battle you have to face.”

“You’re not.”

“Then why does it feel that way?”

“Because it’s impossible to be in two places at once.”

“Then don’t. I know your family needs you.”

His eyes darkened as he turned toward her, pinning her face between his hands. “That’s what I’ve been trying to tell you, Dana. You’re my family.”

Dana’s pulse quickened, every part of her tightening as she focused on Jake’s lips, inches from her own. She’d never wanted to kiss him more. Breathless, she grabbed his collar, ready to pull him toward her when something flashed in the distance.

“Jake…” she whispered, trying to warn him, but his radio beat her to it.

“All units be advised. Tango approaching.”