Page 32 of Protected from Malice (Blade and Arrow Shadow Team #1)

RAFE

My mind is buzzing with possibilities.

I had a suspicion when Cole brought up the meeting a few days ago, but it was just that. An inkling of an idea. A new offshoot from the road I’ve been traveling into a challenging unknown.

But I’ve never shied away from a challenge. Not in the Army or after. And now?

How could I say no when it could bring me everything I’ve ever wanted?

It’s not just my choice; that’s the only problem. For this to work, it has to be everyone.

I hope?—

Hope . It’s been a foreign thought for so long.

As I navigate the traffic headed out of the city, I can’t help but look at my surroundings in a different light. Not as a visitor, but as someone who might?—

But my thoughts are cut off by a heart-stopping cacophony.

My chest seizes.

My foot slips off the gas pedal, drawing an indignant honk from behind me.

No.

It can’t be.

My brain doesn’t want to accept the origin of the sound even though my gut already knows.

Still. I glance in the rear view mirror, wishing for the first time ever to see the flashing lights of a police car come roaring up behind me. I’ll take being pulled over, questioned, searched, fuck, arrest me—anything other than what I fear.

But all I see is a hatchback driven by a sour-faced man gesturing angrily at me.

Then I look down at my phone, sitting face up in the center console.

It’s flashing red.

No.

I don’t want to accept it.

Eden’s supposed to be at home, protected by all the security I installed for her.

She’s supposed to be safe.

But my phone says otherwise. My phone says Eden’s in trouble. That she triggered the earrings Blade and Arrow sent us. That?—

Fuck.

What’s going on?

Could she have triggered the alert accidentally?

I punch the gas, shooting forward with a sharp jerk and earning another horn blast in return.

With my attention half on the road, I snatch up my phone and jab at the screen until the damn tracking app opens.

As I frantically scan the little map, I distractedly think about how pissed Eden would be if she knew I was doing this.

She busted me texting and driving once and spent a good ten minutes lecturing me about it after, reeling off statistics about distracted driving and how dangerous it was.

I haven’t done it since. Not until now.

But this is different. This is urgent .

I need to know?—

She’s there. Still at home. I can see her little tracking dot flashing right at her house. So if she’s inside, she should be okay. Right?

Unless someone broke in? Or could she have fallen? Hurt herself?

I close the app and call her number, desperately hoping she’ll answer. That she’ll sheepishly explain she accidentally triggered the alert. Maybe an earring got caught in her hair. Maybe one fell out and she stepped on it.

But she doesn’t answer.

Not the first time I call, or the second or third.

I’m flying down the road, speeding a good twenty miles over the speed limit. Weaving around cars, darting between lanes, anything to get to Eden’s house faster.

Adrenaline courses through me. Every muscle in my body feels like a tensed spring about to explode. Pain shoots through my clenched jaw and down my neck. My hands are locked on the steering wheel. My heart is hammering in frantic drumbeats, echoing through my head.

I need to get to Eden. Now.

As I zip past a road marker, I curse out loud. Ten more miles. Fuck. Ten more fucking miles.

Anything could happen in the time it takes to get there.

The exit is just ahead, and I take it without slowing. My tires squeal in revolt.

Now that I’m off the highway, I sort through all the possible routes to get to Eden’s house, trying to work out the best one. Not just the shortest in distance, but the one with the least likelihood of me being pulled over by the police.

Just as I make a quick right turn, my phone rings.

There’s a moment when I think, Eden! She’s calling to say she’s okay.

But less than a second later, reality comes crashing in. It’s not her ringtone. It’s one of my teammates calling.

Which, fuck, of course it is. In my panic—me, who never panics about anything—I forgot about my team.

I answer the call, skipping any pretense of greeting to bark, “I’m on my way back to Eden’s. Maybe”—I glance at my surroundings—“eight more minutes. Have you heard anything? Did she call you? What?—”

Indy cuts me off. “I haven’t heard anything.” Tension strains his voice. “Last time I talked to Eden was last night. Was she okay when you left? Did she say?—”

“She was fine,” I interrupt. My normally confident tone is tight with fear. “She said she was going to do some cleaning. I promised to pick up food for brunch. And I even asked her not to go outside without me, just to be safe.”

“Well she’s not ,” Indy snaps. “Obviously. What the?—”

He stops. There’s a momentary rumble of two voices arguing. Then Tyler takes over. “We’re on the way,” he says. “We’re headed to the parking garage now. But it’ll take us at least thirty minutes to get there. I’ve called the police?—”

“Fuck the police. I’ll get there first. You know it’s better that way. If there’s someone hurting Eden…”

I don’t have to finish it. Tyler knows.

“Of course,” he answers briskly. “Indy will be driving, so I can pull up the security cameras in the meantime. Figure out what’s going on.”

Right. Because Tyler has access to all the cameras around Eden’s house. “Have you seen anything yet?” I ask. “An intruder?”

“I’m working on it,” he replies. “As soon as we get in the car, I will.”

I take another corner, this time fast enough for my tires to skid.

Five minutes now. Maybe four, if I really push it.

Fear claws at me, shredding my chest into ribbons. Stealing my breath.

All the hopes I had…

What if it’s too late?

What if I get there and Eden’s already gone?

“Fuck!” I slam my fist on the wheel. “FUCK!”

“Don’t assume the worst,” Tyler says. His tone is enviably calm. “She only triggered the alert eight minutes ago. That’s not long. And Eden’s smart. Strong.”

It’s on the tip of my tongue to remind him that Eden’s five foot four and maybe one-twenty, at the most. That no matter how smart and strong she is, if she’s faced with someone much bigger than her…

The speedometer crests seventy-five, and while I know I’m already driving dangerously fast, I edge up to eighty.

“It’s a woman,” Tyler announces. “That’s the only person who came to the door. Dirty blonde hair, somewhere in her thirties, holding an envelope. No visible weapon.”

“A woman?”

“It looks like Eden knows her. They talked at the door for a minute, and then the woman went inside. Eden didn’t look frightened. It didn’t appear the woman forced her way in.”

But yet, Eden triggered the earrings. She’s not answering her phone. So something has to be terribly wrong.

As I get closer to Eden’s neighborhood, my body instinctively shifts into battle mode.

Whoever this woman is, she’s a threat. And I’ll do whatever it takes to protect Eden from her.

Reluctantly, I drop my speed as I approach Eden’s neighborhood. As much as I’d like to go barreling in there, I can’t take the risk of hitting an oblivious jogger or dog walker, more focused on their music than the cars on the road. “Two minutes.”

“I can remotely unlock the patio doors,” Tyler says. “So you can enter from the back if you need.”

“Depending on what I see, maybe.” I have the access code to the front door, but depending on where Eden and this woman are, that may not be the best point of entry. I’ll have to do some quick recon to find out for sure.

Finally, finally , I turn down Eden’s street. It’s deceptively quiet. Peaceful. Incongruous to whatever’s going on inside Eden’s house.

Instead of parking in her driveway, I stop in front of the house just before hers. Glancing around at the surrounding houses, I don’t see anyone working outside, which is a small bit of luck—this way I won’t have to deal with curious neighbors wondering why I’m sneaking around Eden’s house.

“Patrol cars are on the way,” Tyler tells me. “Not sure how far out. But I told them you’d be there. So be warned?—”

“I know.” Jabbing the ignition, I turn the car off. Then I reach under my seat to retrieve my Sig. I slip it into my belt holster and adjust my shirt to cover it. “Just arrived. I’m approaching the house for some recon, then going in.”

“Okay.” He pauses. “Be careful.”

A beat later, Indy’s voice comes through the line. “Get my sister out of there safely,” he says roughly. “I know you can. There’s no one I’d trust more to do it.”

My throat goes thick. “I will.”

I end the call and silence my phone before sliding it into my pocket.

Moving quickly, I exit the car, closing the door carefully behind me.

Then I hurry to the west side of Eden’s yard, mentally cursing myself for being so damn quick with the fence installation.

It’s already mostly up except for a small portion in the back, which means I’ll either have to go all the way around or over it.

After a split second of indecision, I decide to climb over it. If a neighbor sees me, fuck it. The police will be here soon, anyway.

Once I’m over, I keep low as I run to the west side of her house, then creep along it until I reach one of the living room windows. I stay just to the side of it, holding my breath as I listen.

At first there’s nothing.

Shit.

Nothing could mean any number of things. Eden might be in another part of the house. She might be in the basement. Or she might?—

No. I won’t accept it.

“Do you know how long I waited?”

Through the double panes of glass, the voice is faint. But it’s identifiable as a woman. And definitely not Eden.

But this woman—whoever she is—must be talking to her. At least, I hope she is.

Location confirmed, I sprint around the back of the house and over to the patio doors. As Tyler promised, they’re unlocked, and I quickly slide them open to duck inside.

Now that I’m indoors, I can hear the woman’s voice more clearly.