Page 13 of Shadowed Vows: Ghost (Nightfall Syndicate #1)

Nitro and Saint head toward the front of the house, their eyes scanning every corner.

"Standard sweep," Ghost explains when he catches my questioning look. "We check for surveillance and security breaches whenever we regroup at a location."

Frost nods as he grabs his case. "I'll secure the high ground." His words are economical, utilitarian, not a syllable wasted as he heads toward the stairs.

Blade moves with surprising grace for such a large man, heading toward the garage.

"I'll examine the vehicles for evidence of external tampering," he calls over his shoulder, his formal phrasing striking me as oddly specific.

My mind races, trying to piece together what's happening.

Are they expecting an attack? Or just being cautious?

Ghost's intense blue eyes lock onto mine. "Stay close," he growls, his hand hovering near the weapon at his side.

I bristle at the command but bite back a retort. Now's not the time to argue.

"What exactly are we looking for?" I ask instead, keeping my voice low.

Ghost's jaw tightens. "Anything out of place. Any sign someone's been watching us. "

My body goes cold. "You think we've been compromised?"

He doesn't answer, but his silence speaks volumes.

I strain my ears, trying to catch any sound from the others as they move through the house.

"Ghost," Blade's voice crackles over a radio, startling me. "You might want to come see this."

Ghost's eyes narrow. "Stay here," he orders, then pauses. His mouth quirks in what might be amusement. "Actually, come with me. I don't want you out of my sight."

"Afraid I'll go through your underwear drawer?" I challenge, unable to resist.

His eyes darken slightly. "After last night's performance, I'd say we're well past that concern, little hellcat."

Heat rushes to my face as he leads me toward the garage, my heart pounding at the reminder of our heated encounter.

As we enter, I see Blade crouched next to Ghost's sleek matte black motorcycle. The machine sits like a predator at rest, and reminds me of the wild ride that brought us here. He must have moved it while I was sleeping.

"What is it?" Ghost demands.

Blade looks up, his expression grim. "We might have a problem."

I lean in closer, trying to see what Blade is pointing at on Ghost's motorcycle. My eyes strain, but I can't make out anything unusual.

"What am I looking at?" I whisper.

Blade's voice is low and precise. "A tracker. Highly sophisticated. Almost undetectable by standard methods."

My heart races. A tracker? On Ghost's bike ?

Ghost's jaw clenches, his eyes hardening. "How did you find it?"

"Electromagnetic frequency anomaly," Blade explains. "I was conducting a routine sweep and detected an irregular pattern outside standard parameters."

I can't tear my eyes away as Ghost rakes his hand through his dark hair. Waves of tension emanate from his hulking body, making my skin prickle.

His jaw works as he examines his motorcycle, trying to piece together when someone could have planted the tracker.

"I was only away from it for a minute," he growls, more to himself than us. "Just long enough to grab her and get back when those assholes attacked at the warehouse."

Blade nods thoughtfully. "High probability of remote deployment. A projectile delivery system could place such a device from optimal distance. The chaos would provide sufficient cover for deployment."

"Fuck," Ghost mutters under his breath, his frustration evident.

I can't contain my curiosity any longer. My mind races with questions, desperate to understand. "Who has access to tech like that? It must be incredibly advanced."

Ghost's eyes lock onto mine, a clear warning to back off. But Blade answers anyway, his voice low and analytical.

"Very few entities possess such capabilities. The technology exceeds conventional surveillance parameters—military-grade specifications, potentially classified development."

"Frost, report," Ghost barks into his radio.

Frost's cool voice responds immediately. "Negative on visual compromises. Detecting unusual electromagnetic signatures. Consistent with tracker tech. Similar frequency range." His words come in staccato bursts, stripped down to essential data.

Ghost's eyes meet mine, and I see a flicker of... is that concern? It's gone in an instant, replaced by steely resolve.

"We have been compromised," he announces grimly. His jaw tightens as he scans the room. "The safeguards on this place should prevent them from pinpointing our exact position, but pack up. We move out in ten."

My stomach drops as I process his words. I'd been na?ve to think we were untouchable here.

The team bursts into motion, their actions perfectly in sync. Each person knows exactly what to do, flowing through their tasks like a well-oiled machine.

I stand there, feeling useless and overwhelmed.

"Ghost," my voice is barely above a whisper. "What does this mean?"

He pauses, his piercing blue eyes locked on mine. "It means we're dealing with a threat far more sophisticated than we initially thought."

He takes a step closer, his massive frame practically engulfing me. "And you..." He hesitates, his gaze intensifying. "You might be in even more danger than we realized."

My stomach drops, but a part of me—the part that's always chasing the next big story—is thrilled.

This is it. This is the story that could blow everything wide open.

"What can I do to help?" I ask, determination overriding my fear.

Ghost studies me for a moment, then gives a small nod of approval. "Stay close. Keep your eyes open. And if I tell you to run, you run. No questions asked. "

I start to object, but he raises one eyebrow in challenge. "That's the deal, little hellcat. Take it or I'll lock you in a safe room until this is over."

The threat in his voice is real, but there's something else there too—something that suggests he might enjoy following through on that promise.

I nod, my heart pounding with fear, excitement, and something else I don't want to name.

I stay in the garage, watching as Ghost's team moves with efficient precision. They're gathering equipment, but it's more than what they brought in earlier. My eyes narrow, trying to make sense of the high-tech gear they're loading into a blacked-out SUV.

Looks like it's armored.

Blade circles the vehicles, his movements precise as he conducts another thorough sweep. I admire his calm focus. Meanwhile, my heart is pounding like drums at a rock concert.

Nitro zips around the space with restless energy, checking weapons with practiced hands.

"Think they'll follow us?" he asks, words tumbling out quickly. "Hope so. Been too quiet lately."

"Your definition of 'quiet' concerns me," Saint replies smoothly, his tone shifting from the formality he used earlier to something more casual. He's adapting, I realize—changing his speech patterns to match his audience.

Ghost approaches, his face set in grim lines. He's holding what looks like body armor.

"Put this on," he orders, thrusting the gear at me.

I balk, my stubbornness flaring. "I'm not some damsel you need to protect. I can handle myself."

His jaw ticks, but I catch a glimmer in his eye that looks suspiciously like amusement. "This isn't up for debate, little hellcat. You want to stay involved? You wear the gear."

We lock eyes, neither of us willing to back down. Finally, I grab the vest with a huff.

"Fine. But don't think this means I'm just going to sit back and let you handle everything."

"Tactical negotiations," Frost observes from nearby, his voice clinical. "Interesting dynamics."

Ghost shoots him a glare that would wither most men. Frost merely continues checking his equipment, unbothered.

"Dammit, Alina. This isn't a walk in the park," Ghost growls, turning back to me.

I fumble with the straps on the vest. I'm practically swimming in it—clearly designed for someone with Ghost's massive build rather than my frame.

"And I'm not going anywhere until I find out what happened to Jenny."

Ghost sighs heavily, raking his fingers through his hair. "Your damn stubbornness is going to be the death of me." Despite his words, there's a hint of admiration in his tone.

Stop thinking about how good this dangerous man smells or how his closeness makes my pulse race.

"Maybe," I joke, trying to lighten the mood.

He steps closer, his hands brushing mine as he takes over fastening the vest. My breath catches at his nearness, the scent of leather and sandalwood filling my senses. His fingers work quickly and efficiently, tightening straps with practiced ease.

I try to ignore the heat from his body, how his touch sends sparks across my skin .

Ghost's eyes lock with mine as he finishes securing the vest. The intensity I see there sends a jolt through my body.

"Is this how you get all your women?" The words slip out before I can stop them. "Rescue them, then dress them up in tactical gear?"

His lips quirk in a half-smile that's equal parts dangerous and seductive. "You think you're not the first little bratty journalist I've had to wrangle?"

"Are you going to answer my question, or just deflect with another question?" I challenge.

Ghost leans closer, his breath warm against my ear. "Would it make you jealous to know you're not the first, little hellcat?"

I swallow hard, fighting to maintain my composure. His life must be full of danger and violence to be so prepared. I'm surprised to realize how much that excites me, when it should terrify me instead.

My breath quickens at his nearness, at the deadly competence in his touch. God help me, I want to know more about this dangerous man.

"Possibly," I admit. I try to hold back my amusement, but I bite my bottom lip as I struggle to keep from smiling.

Ghost's eyes flick down to my mouth for just a split second. It's barely noticeable, but I catch the tiny reaction. My heart beats faster when he turns those eyes on me.

"Ghost, thirty seconds," Blade calls, his voice steady and measured despite the urgency of the situation.

The team gathers around, tension radiating off them. Ghost's voice is low and commanding as he briefs them.

"We've been compromised. Our priority is to secure Alina and regroup at the secondary location. Frost, you take point. Blade, you're on rear guard. Saint, stick close to Alina. Nitro, you're in the SUV with our gear."

My heart thunders at the gravity in his tone. This is real. Dangerous.

"What about me?" I ask, not letting my fear overwhelm me.

Ghost's intense blue eyes lock onto mine. "You stay close and do exactly as I say. No heroics, no investigative stunts. Clear?"

I open my mouth to argue, but a loud bang from the front door cuts me off. Everyone freezes for a split second.

"Move!" Ghost barks.

The team springs into action. Nitro leaps into the SUV, engine roaring to life. "Finally, some action!" he calls out, excitement evident.

Frost is already on his motorcycle, face an emotionless mask as he readies his weapon.

Blade moves with deliberate purpose, mounting his bike with fluid grace. "Formation Delta?" he confirms.

Ghost nods sharply, grabbing my arm and pulling me towards his bike.

"Hold on tight," he growls as I climb on behind him. "And try not to enjoy this too much, little hellcat."

The garage door opens, and we peel out into the night, the thunder of engines drowning out the sound of my pounding heart.