Page 8 of Shadowed Vows: Ghost (Nightfall Syndicate #1)

seven

Kade

Alina's heat penetrates my leather jacket, sparking an unfamiliar surge of heat through my body.

Fuck .

I didn't expect her closeness to affect me like this.

She's a liability, not a goddamn distraction. Remember that.

We approach a Victorian house nestled among the curves of Lombard Street. Its pale blue exterior and ornate trim blend seamlessly with the neighboring buildings, the perfect camouflage for one of our safe houses. As we pull up, I scan the area for any signs of surveillance or trouble.

Clear. For now .

I kill the engine, and Alina immediately scrambles off the bike. Her face is flushed, whether from the ride or anger, I'm not sure. Probably both.

"What the hell is going on?" she demands, her green eyes flashing. "Where are we? And who are you?"

I dismount slowly, deliberately taking my time. "Get in the house."

"No," she snaps, crossing her arms. "Not until you give me some answers."

This woman has a death wish. Her defiance should infuriate me. I've taken down men twice her size for less. Instead, I fight back a smile. There's something oddly refreshing about her boldness.

"I said, get in the house. Now." My voice drops to a dangerous register, the one I use when negotiation is over.

For a moment, I think she might actually listen. Then she lets out a frustrated sound and stomps toward the front door. I follow closely behind, my eyes scanning the street once more before focusing on the curve of her back, the way she carries tension in her shoulders.

As we reach the porch, I move past her to unlock the door, brushing against her. The brief contact sends an electric current through me that I immediately shut down.

"After you," I gesture for her to enter.

Alina hesitates, eyeing the doorway suspiciously. "How do I know this isn't some kind of trap?"

I sigh. "If I wanted to hurt you, I would have left you back at the warehouse. Now get inside."

She mutters something under her breath that sounds suspiciously like "asshole," but finally steps into the house. I follow, quickly shutting and locking the door behind us .

The interior is quite different from the Victorian exterior. Modern, minimalist furniture fills the open-concept living area. State-of-the-art security systems are discreetly integrated into every corner.

Alina spins to face me, her jaw set in stubborn determination. "Okay, we're inside. Now talk. Who are you, and what the hell is going on?"

I study her for a moment, weighing my options. She's in way over her head, but there's no way she'll back down without some answers.

How much can I safely tell her?

I take a deep breath, meeting Alina's intense gaze. "You can call me Ghost."

She rolls her eyes. "Ghost? Seriously? How am I supposed to trust a man when I don't even know his real name?"

"You don't have to trust me," I move past her toward the kitchen. "But I did just save your life, so gratitude wouldn't hurt."

"Again with the gratitude," I hear her huff behind me as I open the fridge, surveying its contents.

"What are you doing?" Alina demands, following me into the kitchen.

"Making dinner. You hungry?" I pull out some chicken and vegetables.

She crosses arms. "No, I'm not hungry. I want answers."

I set down the ingredients and turn to her, my expression hardening. "Sit down. You're eating."

"I told you I'm not—"

"Eat. Or I'll feed you myself. Your choice." The words come out as a low, controlled command .

Her eyes widen slightly before narrowing again. "Are you always this demanding?"

"Only when someone's trying to get themselves killed on my watch." I turn back to the stove, tossing the chicken into the hot pan. The sizzle fills the silence between us.

She's not going to let this go. Stubborn little journalist.

"Look," I don't bother turning around. "I know you have questions. But right now, the less you know, the safer you are."

"That's bullshit," Alina retorts. "Knowledge is power. How am I supposed to protect myself if I don't know what I'm up against?"

Her words hit a nerve. I spin to face her, my voice low. "You want to know what you're up against? People who wouldn't hesitate to put a bullet in your head for asking the wrong questions. Is that what you want to hear?"

Alina pales slightly, but stands her ground. "Yes, actually. At least now I know the stakes."

I study her for a moment, impressed despite myself by her resolve. She's either incredibly brave or incredibly foolish. Maybe both.

"Fine," I turn back to the stir-fry. "You want to know more? Grab some plates. We'll talk while we eat."

I accept the plates from Alina, noting the stiffness in her motions. She's holding her tongue for the moment, but I can sense her eagerness to uncover the truth. Her green eyes move constantly, taking in everything around us.

"Sit," nodding towards the kitchen table.

"Are you always this bossy? Or is it special for me?" Her eyes narrow, but she sits anyway .

I scoop a generous portion of steaming stir-fry onto her plate before serving myself and sitting across from her.

Alina settles into her chair, her posture tense, but her eyes never leaving mine. She watches me with keen intensity—cataloging details, searching for weaknesses. I can practically hear the questions forming behind those sharp green eyes.

"So these people," she says, picking up her fork. "The ones who wouldn't hesitate to put a bullet in my head. Who exactly are they?"

I take a bite, savoring the delayed burn of the chili sauce before answering. "I can't tell you that. Eat."

We eat in silence for a few minutes. I'm surprised to see Alina practically scarfing down her food. So much for not being hungry.

"Your appetite clearly returned," I say, the corner of my mouth lifting.

"Oh, shut up," she snaps back, but there's less venom in her voice now.

Chuckling low, I lean back in my chair. It's time to give her some answers. Not all of them, of course, but enough to keep her from doing anything stupid.

"Alright, little hellcat."

"What did you call me?"

It's probably best for me to ignore that question. "You want to know what's going on? Here's what I can tell you."

I pause, choosing my words carefully. "My team and I have been investigating some... let's call them 'suspicious activities' connected to the warehouse you've been poking around."

Alina's fork pauses halfway to her mouth. "What kind of suspicious activities? "

I shake my head. "Can't give you specifics. But it's a lot bigger than wage theft or whatever else you thought was going on."

She frowns, setting down her fork. "Does it have anything to do with human trafficking?"

Damn, she's sharp. "What makes you ask that?"

"Just a hunch," she says, but I can see the wheels turning in her head. "The warehouse setup seemed... off. It's supposed to be abandoned, but looks like people have been moving in and out."

I nod slowly. "You're not wrong. My partner, Shadow, was looking into some potential connections. That's what led us to the warehouse."

"Us?" Alina leans forward, her food forgotten. "I knew you weren't alone that night."

"No, I wasn't alone. Other members of my team were there for backup. But Shadow... he's gone missing." The words taste bitter in my mouth. "That's why I was there when you showed up. I've been trying to retrace his steps, figure out what happened to him."

Alina's expression softens slightly. "I'm sorry about your partner. But why didn't you just tell me this from the beginning? Maybe I could have helped."

I snort. "Right, because I make a habit of spilling information to nosy reporters I've just met."

"Hey!" She looks indignant. "I'm not just some 'nosy reporter.' I'm good at what I do, and we just found a potential connection between our cases."

"You're also a civilian who nearly got herself killed tonight," I remind her. "This isn't a game, Alina. These people are dangerous. "

She leans back, crossing her arms. "So are a lot of the people I've investigated before. I can handle myself. Wait…how do you know my name?"

Shit. I need to ignore that too. "Look," I say, my voice softening slightly.

"I get that you're trying to do the right thing.

But you need to understand what you're up against here.

These aren't just corporate suits cooking the books.

If our hunch is correct, they're killers, and they won't hesitate to take out anyone who gets in their way. "

Alina's jaw clenches. "All the more reason to expose them, then. People need to know the truth."

I sigh, rubbing a hand over my face. This stubborn journalist might just put me in an early grave.

"And how do you plan to do that without getting yourself killed in the process?"

She opens her mouth to respond, then closes it again. For the first time since I've met her, Alina looks uncertain.

"I... I don't know," she admits quietly. "But I can't just walk away from this. Not now that I know what's really going on."

I lean forward, holding her gaze. "Fine. I'll let you work with me. For now. At least then I can make sure you're safe."

Alina's eyes widen in surprise. "You'd do that? Why?"

Good question. I'm not entirely sure of the answer myself. But she didn't back down from me, and I can be pretty damn scary. Something tells me I can trust her, despite my better judgment.

"Because," I reply slowly, "I have a feeling we both want the same thing here. To find the truth and stop these bastards before anyone else gets hurt. "

As Alina gathers the dishes, her movements are deliberate and efficient. There's a newfound ease between us, the tension from earlier dissipating like mist in the morning sun.

"You don't have to do that." I take a plate from her hand.

Our fingers connect, sending a spark surging through me. Alina jerks her hand away, her cheeks flushing pink.

"It's fine," she mutters. "Least I can do after you saved my life and fed me."

I nod, stepping back to give her space. "Upstairs, first door on the right is an empty bedroom. Clean towels in the bathroom. Get some rest."

The door crashes open before she can respond. My body tenses instantly, hand reaching for my weapon until I recognize the intruder.

Shit.

Jax "Nitro" Ryder strolls in, his usual cocky grin plastered across his face. "Honey, I'm home! What'd I miss?"

His eyes land on Alina, and his grin widens. He lets out a low whistle. "Well, hello there. Now I see why Frost was so worried."

"Shut the fuck up, Nitro," I growl, moving to stand between him and Alina.

Jax raises his hands in mock surrender. "Easy, boss. Just making an observation."

He glances at the kitchen, spotting the remains of dinner. "Cooking for your lady already? Damn, Ghost, never pegged you as domestic." He winks at Alina. "He doesn't even make breakfast for the team."

"She's not my lady," I snap, even as my body unconsciously shifts to block his view of her .

Jax raises his eyebrows. "Could've fooled me with all that tension in the air."

I shoot him a glare that would make lesser men tremble. Jax, unfortunately, is immune.

"Alina was just heading upstairs to rest."

She nods, looking relieved. "Right. It was... interesting meeting you, Nitro."

Alina pauses on the stairs, her eyes darting between Jax and me. "Let me guess, you're not telling me your real name either?"

Jax grins, zipping his lips with his fingers before sprawling out on the couch like he owns the place.

I shake my head. "Don't mind Nitro. He's just here for extra security tonight."

Alina nods, her expression full of exhaustion and wariness as she disappears upstairs. I listen to her footsteps, tracking her movement until I hear a door close.

As soon as she's gone, Jax turns to me with a shit-eating grin. "So, boss, want to tell me why we've got a civilian in our safe house?"

I don't answer immediately. Instead, I move to the windows, checking the locks and scanning the street outside. Everything looks clear, but I can't shake the feeling of unease crawling up my spine.

"She was in danger. I made a call." My tone makes it clear I'm not interested in discussing it further.

Jax watches me with knowing eyes. "A call? Or did Ghost finally find someone he couldn't scare away?"

I ignore him, checking my phone for updates from the team. Nothing new.

"You know," Jax says, his voice uncharacteristically serious, "bringing her here is a big risk. If Shadow were here—"

"Well, he's not," I snap, cutting him off. The mention of my missing partner sends a fresh wave of guilt and worry through me.

Jax holds up his hands. "I'm just saying, man. This isn't like you."

He's right, and that's what bothers me the most. I've spent years building walls, keeping people at arm's length. It's safer that way. Easier. So why did I let Alina Bennett get under my skin so quickly?

"She knows too much already. Keeping her close is the safest option for now."

Jax studies me with a knowing look. "Safe for her... or for you?"

Before I can answer, a soft noise from upstairs draws my attention. I recognize the sound—someone trying a window latch.

Dammit. The little hellcat is trying to escape.