Page 11 of Raven’s Claw (Raven’s Cliff #2)

Chapter Five

You’re either with us, or you’re dead.

Jordan opened her eyes, Rook’s voice lingering in the air. She bolted upright, searching the shadows, planning how she’d dive across the bed — use whatever was on Kash’s nightstand as a weapon. Hell, the guy was ex-special forces. He probably had a gun or three shoved into the drawer.

Silence filled the room, nothing but bad memories staring back at her from the darkness. She waited, muscles primed, senses alert, until the uneasiness passed. Nyx lifted her head, tilting it left and right — clearly confused as to why Jordan sat there, ready to pounce.

Jordan glanced at Kash when he stirred, rolling toward her and laying his arm across her waist before drifting back to sleep. She studied his face, noting the way his mouth twitched in his sleep. Or how peaceful he looked cuddled up to her.

Her chest tightened, that lump from earlier nearly choking her, and she found herself slipping out of the bed — heading for the main living area.

She snagged the sweats and socks off the floor where Kash had left them in a heap along with his clothes, tugging on everything.

He must have had the lights on a timer because the room was dark, just the distant glow from Beckett’s place brightening the shadows through the windows.

She walked over to the bookshelves on the far wall, smiling at the collection of photos.

Mostly him and his teammates, uniforms caked in dirt.

Looking as if they’d faced hell and won.

Which, they probably had, based on the various locations.

Most she recognized, others… Yeah, she’d been to those kinds of places, too.

The ones not easily found on a map. That came with kill orders and a lifetime’s worth of ugly memories.

She lifted one near the end, running her finger across the faces. She picked out Foster, Chase and Zain instantly, wondering who the other two men were standing shoulder-to-shoulder with Kash. Grinning like they’d won the lottery. It looked fairly recent, the lines on their faces still the same.

Ghosts, she assumed. Like her.

She placed it back on the shelf then made her way over to the kitchen, grabbing a medium-sized knife from the drawer.

She tested out the weight, getting a sense of where she’d have to hold it if she had to toss it at an asset, before making her way back to the door.

She’d already donned her boots and jacket when claws clicked across the floor.

Nyx stopped a few feet away, gaze focused.

Looking up at Jordan, then at the door. Making it clear Jordan wasn’t getting outside without the dog tagging along.

Jordan chuckled to herself as she tapped the code into the unit next to the entrance, waiting until it blinked twice before turning the handle and easing the wooden slab open.

Cold, damp air spilled through the doorway as thick clouds covered the sky.

It wasn’t actively raining, though she knew that could change in a heartbeat.

Nyx followed her out, staying close as Jordan closed the door, giving her eyes a few minutes to adjust before moving over to the edge of the house.

Tall trees swayed in the wind, the black silhouettes like monoliths against the sky.

She scanned the tree line, narrowing in on a dense section over toward one of the other buildings — either Chase’s or Zain’s homes she assumed — the hairs along her neck prickling.

She waited, staying in the shadows, careful not to let her breath give her away, when an obviously male figure darted between two trees.

Large. Fast. Carrying something over his right shoulder.

She caught a glimpse of him a few seconds later, creeping along the edge of the brush, stopping every so often to scan the property.

Scope. Handheld. Either night vision or infrared. Maybe both. Which meant, she’d have to stay out of his sight line.

She smiled at the thought, darting down the side of Kash’s place then into the woods beyond. It wasn’t as open as she’d hoped, with bramble and ferns crowding most of the available space. She picked a route that wouldn’t out her position, then headed for the other side of the yard.

Nyx stayed on her six, sniffing the air whenever the wind kicked up. Jordan waited to see if the dog would react, but Nyx carried on, unfazed by whoever was out there.

Jordan continued until she reached a small break in the foliage.

Not quite a clearing, but large enough she’d catch any movement on the other side of the trail.

She hunkered down, Nyx shouldering up beside her.

Jordan waited, attention centered on the trees beyond that gap, listening for any hint of movement.

An owl called in the distance, the odd cricket chirping in the underbrush.

Her internal clock ticked inside her head, warning her that the guy was taking too long to reach the junction. That she needed to double back — rethink her strategy — when a shadow crossed the path.

She jumped up and moved a second later, mimicking the guy’s movements — keeping Nyx at her back.

The guy picked up speed, leaping over logs and brush, darting through the forest like a damn wood nymph.

Completely silent. Even the air seemed to move around him without giving away his presence, the fog seemingly opening up then closing.

She pushed harder, mud splattering up her legs, water from the evergreens soaking through her pants.

Nyx kept pace, the wind now blowing from the wrong direction to carry the guy’s scent across their path.

Jordan just prayed the canine wouldn’t take off and attack the guy on sight.

Not just because she had no idea how she’d call off the dog, but because she didn’t want to show her hand — allow whoever was out there to know she’d made them.

If this was one of Rook’s scouts, Jordan needed to lure the bastard away before he tried more lethal methods while on Foster’s property.

Before she put the only people she’d gotten remotely close to at risk.

The guy kept moving, doubling back — taking her on a freaking tour of the property. She worked hard to keep up, aware that if there had been more of a defined path, he would have pulled ahead.

That got her thinking, examining this from a different perspective. The way he moved. The silhouette. Why Nyx hadn’t sprinted ahead.

Jordan pulled up beside a large white pine, holding her position as the wind whistled through the branches.

Water dripped somewhere off to her right, a heavy feeling building between her shoulder blades.

She glanced at Nyx, noting the way the dog tilted her head, tongue lolling out.

She snorted, staring behind them for a few moments before sitting and looking up at Jordan.

Jordan shook her head, turning so she could lean against the trunk. “Did you spot me after I’d started tailing you, or as soon as I stepped out of Kash’s place?”

Zain chuckled, moving into the opening off to her left. He had a rifle slung over one shoulder, a vest with a collection of gear strapped around his torso. A laser scope hung around his neck, an obvious holster clipped onto his pants.

He gave Nyx a scratch when the dog trotted over to him, leaning into his legs for a few moments before returning to Jordan’s side. “Pretty much as soon as you stepped out. But damn, you’re good.”

“And you’re fast. You would have lost me in a flat out run.”

“I hope so. I’ve got several inches and probably eighty pounds of muscle on you. Though, the way you’re carrying that knife, I might not have made it too far. You actually know how to throw those?”

She flipped it a couple times. No sense lying when she’d just put on another show. Given him even more reasons to shift his line of thinking, like he’d said at the table. “It’s wise to have options.”

“What kind of distance are we talking?”

“About thirty feet. Maybe a bit more if the gods are smiling on me.”

Zain whistled. “You that talented with a rifle, too?”

“I can hold my own, but I’m not a sniper.” She arched a brow. “Not like you.”

“Kash tell you that?”

“He didn’t need to.” She waved the length of him.

“The attention to detail. The situational awareness. You’re more focused, more serious than the others.

Not overtly, but in the way you carry yourself.

You always want to have that coveted position at the table in the café that affords you the best sight lines, and the fact your teammates don’t fight you for it means they respect your skill set, especially when it comes to security.

Like the setup in Kash’s place. Way upscaled for somewhere this far out of town.

And Foster has the same one.” She took a breath. “That all screams overwatch.”

Zain simply nodded.

She motioned to the scope. “Just night vision or IR, too?”

“What do you think?”

“I think you don’t do anything half-assed.”

He studied her for a moment, doing a quick scan of the area.

Muscles still primed. Gaze scrutinizing any place that could hide a target.

And Jordan knew he’d be shoving her to the ground if he sensed so much as a hint of danger, despite knowing she was trained.

That she could handle herself. Which meant, she’d been right, and Kash’s team would rally around her without question if she was strong enough to let them in.

He relaxed slightly, his attention back on her. “So, were you looking for trouble, or leaving it behind?”

“Just needed some air. Then, I saw you dart past, which I’m guessing you planned.” She tilted her head. “A test, not unlike the one I gave at dinner. Which seems fair. So, did I pass?”

“Undecided.”

Which she assumed was guy speak for it depending on whether she hurt his friend. How she answered his original question.

Jordan pushed off the tree and closed the distance. “If I’d been making a run for it, I wouldn’t have let Nyx tag along.”