Page 28 of Shadowed Hearts: Frost (Nightfall Syndicate #2)

nineteen

Vanessa

I bounce on my toes, the cool mist collecting on my hair as we stand at the entrance to what looks like any other high-rise in San Francisco's Financial District.

The gleaming silver lettering that reads "Centurion Protection Group" might as well say "Secret Badass Headquarters" for all the nondescript corporate camouflage.

My fingers can't stop fiddling with the strap of my messenger bag. I've named it Millennium Falcon, because everything important deserves a name, and right now it holds three encrypted hard drives and my Star Wars notebook pressed against my chest like a shield.

"Holy shit," I mutter, counting one, two, three... seven visible security cameras, plus whatever's hidden behind the smoky glass. "This place isn't messing around."

Asher stands beside me, all coiled stillness. His dark gaze follows my fidgeting as my brain maps every escape route and camera angle around us. It's automatic for me, this constant data collection.

"Kade runs a tight ship." His voice is low as he pulls out a matte black keycard.

I can't help myself. "That's quite the security setup." I point to the bronze wall fixture that doesn't match the rest of the decor. "Though most people probably miss the retinal scanner disguised as decorative art."

The corner of his mouth lifts slightly. "Good eye."

He swipes the card, places his thumb on the scanner. The heavy door slides open with a pneumatic hiss. My body trembles from head to toe at the sound, not exactly afraid but buzzing with a nervous excitement that makes my stomach flutter.

My brain is firing at light speed, processing every detail: the reinforced glass windows with condensation forming delicate patterns, the subtle hum of advanced electronics, the faint scent of gun oil and expensive coffee.

Beyond the entrance, I glimpse monitors and state-of-the-art equipment that make my tech-loving heart race. This is where Asher lives his other life. The life I wasn't supposed to know about until I hacked my way into it.

His hand touches the small of my back, warm and steady. That simple contact grounds me, slows my racing thoughts for just a moment.

"Ready to meet everyone officially?" he asks, his voice softening slightly.

I squeeze my notebook against my chest and run my tongue across my dry lips.

"As ready as I'll ever be. Though I'm pretty sure some of them already know me as that crazy girl who hacked your secure systems." My voice quivers slightly with nervous energy.

The elevator doors close with a soft whisper, enclosing us in sleek steel and glass. My reflection shows a woman trying desperately to look professional while fighting the urge to bounce on her toes. Forty floors up to the executive level.

The numbers on the digital display tick higher as Asher stands beside me, a solid wall of muscle and control.

"They don't bite," he murmurs, his eyes fixed forward.

"I'm not afraid of biting." My voice comes out more suggestive than intended, making heat rush to my cheeks. "I mean—"

"I remember." His voice drops lower, sending a flutter through my stomach.

The elevator doors slide open silently, revealing a sleek hallway of glass and steel. My brain immediately maps the space, calculating distances to exits, noting the barely visible security cameras embedded in the ceiling corners.

Asher's hand returns to the small of my back as we walk, that simple touch making hot sparks shoot up my back. The heat of his palm burns through my shirt, his gentle push moving me ahead.

"This place is impressive," I whisper. "Military-grade security disguised as corporate aesthetics."

"Focus, little bunny."

My heart skips at the nickname that used to annoy me. Before I can respond, we enter what must be the command center. An expansive room filled with monitors, tactical displays, and the low hum of serious people doing serious work.

And then I see him. Kade Mercer. The ghost himself.

He's even more intimidating in person than in the files I've compiled. Tall, with a powerful build and blue eyes that seem to catch everything. He walks with the confidence of someone who knows exactly how dangerous he is.

"Ms. Reyes." His handshake is firm but not intimidating. "Glad to have you joining us in person."

My words tumble out before I can stop them. "Your encryption protocols are solid, but could use upgrades against quantum attacks. I have suggestions."

Kade exchanges a look with Asher that I can't quite decipher, but there's mild amusement there. Asher's face remains impassive, but I catch the tiny lines appearing at the corners of his eyes.

"I'm sure you do." Kade's voice is neutral, but not dismissive.

Cole approaches, tablet in hand. His body flows with the same controlled exactness I saw yesterday while he watched the target building, though seeing him in headquarters rather than crammed in the van offers a new perspective on his calculated efficiency.

"The data you extracted yesterday is already proving useful." Cole turns his tablet towards me. "We've identified three more shell companies since this morning."

I nod, relieved to see a familiar face in this intimidating space. "Did you run the program I created for the transaction patterns?"

"Just finished. Results are promising." The slight upward tilt at the corner of his mouth is as close to excitement as Cole seems to get.

A woman with brown waves and clear green eyes steps forward—Alina, whose face I recognize from our brief video call a few days ago. In person, she moves with a different kind of confidence than the men, with less tactical precision and more observant awareness.

"It's nice to finally meet you in person," Alina says with a genuine smile.

"You're the reporter," I blurt out, then wince at my lack of filter.

"Former reporter," she corrects with a gentle nod, not seeming offended by my directness.

My eyes dart between her and Kade, catching the subtle shift in his expression when she speaks. Fascinating. The feared commander has a soft spot. The dynamic between them speaks of something new but solid.

"Jax is waiting in the conference room with the surveillance footage." Cole gestures toward a hallway to our right.

"I've identified patterns in their transport schedule and potential weaknesses in their digital security," I say, eager to contribute.

Asher's hand moves to my upper arm, his touch both steadying and possessive. My body responds instantly. Heat rises between my legs that I try desperately to ignore.

"Let's not keep them waiting," he says, voice low near my ear.

The conference room awaits us at the end of the hallway. My heartbeat quickens as I approach, mentally preparing to present my findings to these professionals whose lives depend on precision.

I step inside and pause, momentarily overwhelmed. The room screams operational excellence: a gleaming glass table, multiple screens showing surveillance feeds.

"Holy shit," I whisper, taking it all in. My fingers twitch with excitement at all the tech surrounding me.

Jax looks up from a tablet and grins, his blue-green eyes lighting up when he notices me. Just like during yesterday's surveillance operation, he radiates kinetic energy even while sitting.

"Look who's officially joined the team," he says, his smile widening. "How's our resident tech genius finding headquarters compared to the cramped surveillance vehicle?"

"Jax," Asher says, his voice carrying a warning note I recognize immediately.

I drop my messenger bag on the table and start unpacking my system—purple notebook with color-coded tabs for financial data, green for personnel movements, yellow for scheduling patterns. My collection of specialized Pilot G2 pens (different colors mean different things) tumble across the table.

"I work better with analog backups," I explain, feeling my cheeks warm as I spread out my collection of notebooks and pens across their pristine table. "Digital can be wiped, but they'd have to physically take these."

Jax leans forward, watching me with undisguised interest. "That's quite a system you've got there."

"It's my attempt to organize the chaos," I say, pulling out my tablet.

"My brain bounces between a thousand thoughts at once.

The color-coding helps me somewhat, but.

.." I trail off, thinking of how Asher's presence somehow slows everything down, creates moments of mental quiet I never experience otherwise.

I sync my tablet with the primary display, and the screens fill with financial data, surveillance photos, and tracking maps. My nervousness disappears as I slip into explanation mode.

"Tatiana Ivanov maintains a predictable pattern." My hands fly as I point to unique data points. "The financial transfers to offshore accounts happen exactly three days after each VIP client meeting. Never four days, never two."

My fingers dance across the screen, pulling up account numbers, transaction records. "She's using a shell company in Cyprus to funnel the money, but the timestamps create a perfect correlation with the client meetings."

Jax stands, moving closer. "You're wasted on computers, sweetheart. With observation skills like that, you should be in the field." His hand brushes my arm as he reaches for my notebook, fingers lingering a moment too long.

The energy in the room changes as soon as Jax touches me. Asher's expression goes completely still, that muscle in his jaw pulsing. His eyes aren't on the data anymore; they're fixed on Jax's hand near mine.

"I think we should review the building schematics before tomorrow's operation," Asher interrupts, voice carrying a dangerous edge as he steps closer to my side, creating a physical barrier between Jax and me.

A flicker of something passes between Kade and Cole—a look of familiar exasperation, suggesting this isn't the first time they've witnessed this particular friction.