Page 5 of Raven’s Claw (Raven’s Cliff #2)
A guy. Late thirties. Looking as if he’d been standing in the rain all day, shouting at the wind.
His gaze bounced around the room before landing on her and Kash, all the white in his eyes glowing in the overhead lights.
He took a few faltering steps, then picked up speed, each footfall more deliberate.
She caught a flash of metal and leather — fingers clenched around a grip.
Jordan zeroed in and moved before the bastard cleared his holster. Pushing past Kash and stepping into the attack. She slid one hand along the barrel — ejected the chambered round back at the perp. He jerked his head to the right and opened up his left side.
Precision strikes to his throat and groin — a couple firm kicks to the inside of his knee — and he reeled back.
Breath wheezing out. His gun clattering to a table as he clutched his neck.
Jordan fisted his jacket, then kicked off that table and vaulted over his back, grabbing his piece as she slammed his head onto the smooth surface.
He spat out some blood, gasping when she twisted all that fabric around his throat — cut off most of his air before leaning in. Her breath hot against his neck. Her voice low.
“Who the hell sent you? Rook? Does he know I’m here, or are you one of his advanced drones?”
He tugged at his collar, sucking in raspy little gasps. “They’re… coming.” He laughed, the sound like metal grinding over stone. “We’re all gonna die.”
She tightened her hold, trying to make sense of his gibberish, when the door creaked.
She turned, keeping one elbow jammed between the asshole’s shoulder blades as she targeted the front of the room. Bright headlights cut through the fog beyond the open door, a black Hummer slowing down as it crept past before turning at the next corner.
Sheriff Greer Hudson and her deputy Bodie Page stood in the entrance. Guns drawn. Feet braced apart. They glanced at her, then over to Kash’s teammates gathered behind her. Looking as if they weren’t sure whether to start shooting or start talking.
Jordan focused on Bodie. No hint of fear, just his gaze rock steady on her — his muscles primed for a fight.
He’d seen battle. The way he moved — how he took in an entire room in one glance.
Like Kash and his teammates. Definitely ex-military.
Ranger or maybe a SEAL. He was the threat.
And she’d deal with him, first, if it came down to it.
Kash inhaled, then stepped between her and them, holding up his hands. She shifted her focus enough to keep Greer and Bodie in her peripheral vision as she met Kash’s gaze.
He gave her a guarded smile, nodding at the weapon. “Easy, sweetheart. Tucker’s not what you think. Now, give me the gun, and let Greer and Bodie finish this, okay?”
Give him the gun? Was he nuts?
What if this was all a distraction, and Rook suddenly burst through the door, guns blazing?
Or half a dozen highly trained assholes crashed through the windows, throwing flash bangs and smoke grenades?
What if the guy nearly choking from the way she had his jacket clenched in her fist miraculously recovered and launched another attack?
Kash shifted to her left, closing off more of her view. “Jordan. We’re all friends, here. But I need the gun.”
She held firm, the tension in the room at the breaking point.
Everyone poised on the edge, waiting for a reason to start firing.
A breath. A misstep. Maybe a cup clattering to the floor.
Kash waved his fingers, holding his ground as she weighed her options.
Knowing she only had one if there was any hope in defusing the situation before it couldn’t be stopped.
She took a breath, slowly easing up as she let the gun rotate around her finger.
Kash inched forward, exaggerating his movements.
Giving her plenty of time to anticipate his hand reaching up — gently taking the piece.
She raised her palms next to her shoulders, still working on how she’d counter an attack if Greer or Bodie changed their minds, as she took two calculated steps back.
That set her off. Had her pulse thundering in her head. Every nerve twitching. This was wrong. Backing away. Giving up the gun while there were still threats in play. She’d never stood down. Never surrendered. Willingly giving up that control…
It hit her hard. Had snippets from that last mission looping through her head.
The smoke. The explosions. The blood soaking her clothes.
How she’d all but passed out once she’d found some roadside bathroom to clean up in.
If that kind trucker hadn’t taken pity on her, she never would have made it out of the state alive.
Would have been unconscious on that grimy floor when Rook eventually showed up.
Either she’d made a noise, or the color had drained from her face because Kash stepped in close and tugged her against his chest. He didn’t talk, just slid his hands across her neck and waist, surrounding her with all that muscled strength.
She fisted his hoodie, her chest heaving.
Every instinct begging her to run. To fight her way through the masses then hop on her bike and never look back.
Finally acknowledge that she’d only ever be Ember — Scythe operative and the woman destined to fade away.
Kash held firm, waiting until she’d finally released her death grip before dropping a kiss on the top of her head. He grabbed her chin with his thumb and forefinger, holding still until she met his gaze. “You okay?”
She pushed down the riotous roil of her stomach, allowing her head tilt back. “Considering how I just neutralized a guy in front of a dozen witnesses? I’ve been better.”
He chuckled. “Spoken like a true warrior. And it’s not as if we all didn’t think you were capable of it, it’s just… damn.”
“Damn about sums it up.”
He nodded toward the counter. “Come on. Let’s get you a coffee. Give you a chance to rein in some of that adrenaline.”
“Trust me. I’m in complete control.”
“Then, you can drink because you look like a damn ghost.”
“You’re the one who’s blue. Do I want to know why you smell like the ocean?”
It was subtle. Just a hint of salty brine on his skin — what she suspected hadn’t washed off in the shower. But it was there.
Kash sighed, thanking Zain when he darted behind the counter and grabbed the coffee pot. “Long story.”
She grunted. Every sense still on overdrive. Every muscle still primed for a fight. “Doubt I’m going anywhere. And I could use the distraction.”
Kash gave her a once-over. Looking as if he knew exactly how raw she was.
How little it would take to set her off.
“Let’s just say our newest recruit wasn’t quite up to the task.
Tapped out while I was hanging on the side of a cliff with Nyx over my shoulders — a series of poor decisions dragging us down. Then the cliff gave way, and?—”
“Wait. Him?” She nodded at the creep. “He’s with Raven’s Watch? Since when?”
“This morning. It was a trial run.” Kash tilted his head to the side. “He said he’s been in here before. Claimed he knew who you were. Do you recognize him?”
She studied the guy’s face — reran the last few months’ worth of people she’d put into memory. “No.”
Which meant he’d either been shadowing her without her realizing it or he was lying. Neither of which sat well with her. “How long has he been in town?”
“I thought he’d gotten in last night, but he never confirmed that. Does it matter?”
“Everything matters.” Especially if he was an advanced scout — working his way through every blip of a town along the Oregon coast. “Is he the reason Nyx is limping?”
“If I say yes, are you gonna lose it?”
“No, but I might want that gun back?” She huffed. “On second thought, I’ll just use my hands.”
“Easy there, Agent Romanoff . Might be best if we let Greer handle the situation for now. Get this a few levels down from DEFCON ONE.”
Jordan frowned. “Agent who?”
“You don’t get out much, do you?” He handed her the coffee mug Zain placed on the counter. “Drink.”
She took a sip, allowing the hot liquid to ease the fluttering feeling in her gut. The one that wasn’t quite ready to stand down. “Thanks.”
Zain waved it off. “No, thank you.” He laughed. “I’m so winning the pool.”
“Pool?”
Kash looked as if he wanted to smack his buddy up the side of his head. “And they say I’m socially awkward.” Kash pursed his lips when Greer ambled over, arms crossed. Eyes wary. He gave Jordan’s hand a squeeze then moved back, allowing Greer to take his spot.
Jordan eyed the other woman, working out how much of the truth she’d have to weave into her story to satisfy all of Greer’s unspoken questions without completely burning her identity. “Sorry about not backing down sooner, but with that guy walking in here and pulling a gun…”
Greer nodded, leaning against the counter. “I get it. You thought he might have more friends backing him up.” She arched a brow. “You learn that move at the Y, too?”
Jordan bit back a smile. The other woman definitely had a great memory if she recalled a single comment from a few months ago. Though, Jordan had just taken down a couple bikers twice her size.
Not that she expected anything less from a former government agent.
FBI or maybe NSA. Something serious, but not so strict Greer walked around as if she had a giant stick up her ass.
But the lady had skills, and Jordan needed to respect that.
Give Greer that hint of truth without signing her own death warrant.
Jordan sighed. “I think we both know I’ve never stepped foot in a Y.”
“Ya think?” Greer scanned the diner, her gaze always falling back to the guy handcuffed in the chair. “Riddle me this. If, hypothetically speaking, I ran your name through a federal database, would I have a U.S. Deputy Marshal knocking down my door the next day?”