Page 19 of The Sniper (Club Southside #9)

CHAPTER NINETEEN

DANIELS

T he ride back to the safe house was suffocating.

Daniels sat in the SUV, his jaw locked, fingers curled so tightly around his knee that they ached. The mission had been something of a disaster.

They had saved Hartley—barely. But Fitz had taken a piece of shrapnel from the explosion and Artemis had played them. Again.

Daniels prided himself on being five steps ahead of any enemy, on controlling the battlefield before the first shot was even fired. But Artemis was different. She moved like a phantom, always anticipating their next move, always slipping through the cracks before they could get their hands around her throat. They needed to figure out who Orion was, how he was connected, and take him out of play—one way or another.

They slid by the hospital and picked up Mitch and Fitz. Anton had returned to the Cerberus safehouse to try and see if he couldn’t get a bead on Artemis and Orion.

And Reyna…

Daniels snorted sharply, barely restraining the surge of frustration rolling through him.

She was going to get herself killed.

He glanced at her in the backseat next to Fitz, her arms crossed, jaw set as she stared out the window. She looked like she was still ready to fight someone—probably him.

She didn’t even flinch when Fitz groaned from the seat beside her.

“You good?” Daniels asked, forcing himself to push his rage down for the moment.

Fitz winced but nodded. “I’ve had worse. Nothing some whiskey won’t fix. JJ will have a fit.”

Mitch, behind the wheel, snorted. “Whiskey and stitches. You Scots are built different.”

Fitz grinned weakly. “Damn right we are.”

The SUV pulled into the safe house garage, the automatic door closing behind them. Daniels was out before the vehicle came to a full stop, opening Fitz’s door and hauling him out carefully. Reyna was on the other side, helping to keep Fitz steady as they got him inside.

Anton was already there, laptop in hand. “Tell me you got something,” Daniels barked.

Anton shook his head. “She’s gone. No trace on traffic cams, nothing on cell pings. If she’s still in the city, she’s a ghost.”

“Orion?”

“Nothing. The guy is also a ghost.”

Daniels clenched his jaw as he helped Fitz into a chair.

Reyna pressed a cloth to Fitz’s shoulder where the explosion had burned through his tactical vest, and he’d been hit by a piece of shrapnel in a vulnerable spot. “We’ll get her,” she murmured.

Daniels heard the promise in her voice. It wasn’t hope—it was certainty.

Hartley groaned from his own chair across the room. “She’s not finished.”

Daniels turned to him. “Talk.”

Hartley looked like hell—his face bruised, his lip split—but his eyes were clear, sharp. “She told me,” he muttered. “She wasn’t done. That this was just the prelude.”

Daniels crossed his arms. “Prelude to what?”

Hartley swallowed. “To her final act. The one that’ll send a message to everyone who wronged her sister.”

Daniels’ gut tightened. “Who?”

Hartley hesitated.

Daniels moved fast, grabbing the front of his shirt and yanking him forward. “Who?”

Hartley’s breath hitched. “Someone tied to Cerberus.”

Silence.

Daniels’ pulse pounded in his ears.

“Shit,” Mitch muttered.

Reyna stiffened beside him. “She’s coming for Archer.”

Daniels turned to her sharply. “No. She’s coming for you.”

Reyna’s eyes flashed. “That’s bullshit.”

Daniels didn’t flinch. “You were there the night of the raid. You’re the one who pulled Titan’s records. You’re the one who’s been tracking her, outmaneuvering her, getting too damn close.”

Reyna shook her head, scoffing. “She wants the people responsible for her sister’s death. That’s not me.”

Daniels’ blood boiled. “You’re not seeing this clearly.”

She took a step forward, defiant. “And you are?”

“You think I don’t see what’s happening?” he asked. “You’re making decisions based on anger. You’re reckless, Reyna. She’s baiting you, and you’re walking right into it.”

Her hands curled into fists. “Don’t talk to me like I’m some goddamn rookie who doesn’t know what she’s doing.”

“You’re acting like one.”

“Fuck you.”

Daniels let out a humorless laugh, shaking his head. “That all you got, sweetheart?”

Reyna’s glare could’ve melted steel. “I don’t need you protecting me. I don’t need you making decisions for me.”

“You sure about that?”

Fitz groaned from his chair. “Christ, you two need to screw it out already. Get the hell out.”

Daniels barely registered the others leaving as he grabbed Reyna’s arm and dragged her toward the back hall, leading straight to one of the bedrooms. She didn’t fight him, but she didn’t make it easy, either.

The moment they were inside, Daniels kicked the door shut.

Daniels had never been a man to let anger dictate his actions. He was control. Precision. A strategist who played the long game.

But Reyna? She tested him in ways no one else ever had.

She was reckless—brilliant and deadly, but reckless. And it was going to get her killed.

She didn’t seem to grasp that Artemis wasn’t just some enemy to be tracked and neutralized. This wasn’t just another op. Artemis was playing them. She was leading them exactly where she wanted, using their emotions, their weaknesses against them.

Daniels paced the length of the room, his fingers flexing at his sides as he tried to tamp down the lingering frustration from their argument. From the moment she’d been taken, something inside him had shifted. It had solidified, coiled around him like a steel band. He hadn’t just been hunting Artemis—he’d been hunting for her.

And now, she was pushing back. Fighting him.

It pissed him off.

But worse than that, it made him desperate.

Reyna’s body language said everything—she was still angry, still defiant, still defensive. But her eyes—they were different. There was a fire there, something dark and unrelenting. And under it? A sliver of uncertainty.

She hated that she needed him.

Hated that she was unraveling.

Daniels took a step toward her, then another, closing the space between them. She didn’t back away, but he saw the minute tensing of her shoulders, the way her breathing changed.

His voice was quiet, lethal. "You like playing dangerous games, Reyna?"

Her chin lifted defiantly. "You act like this is something new, something I haven’t been doing my whole life."

Daniels reached out, gripping her chin between his fingers, forcing her gaze up to his. "Not with me."

She swallowed hard.

He could see it—the storm inside her. The war between wanting control and knowing, deep down, that she wanted to give it up.

Daniels ran his thumb over her lower lip, slow, testing. "You disobeyed me."

Her breath hitched.

"You put yourself in danger," he continued. "You don’t get to do that. Not when you’re mine."

Something in her flared at that. She pressed her body against him, eyes full of defiance. "And if I don’t want to be yours?"

Daniels let out a low, dark chuckle. "Then you shouldn’t look at me like that."

Her pupils dilated. She didn’t move as he reached for her arms, wrapping his fingers around them.

"Do you trust me?" he asked.

A heartbeat of silence. Then...” Yes."

Daniels backed her toward the bed, pulling a length of silk rope from his nightstand. He caught the flicker of surprise in her eyes as he stripped off her clothes, but she didn’t resist.

"Hands."

She hesitated for only a second before lifting her wrists. He bound them together with precise, practiced movements, the rope snug but not painful.

He pushed her down onto the bed, climbing over her, attaching the bindings to a conveniently placed hook—Fitz really did know how to deck out a safehouse—and pinning her beneath him.

"You need to remember who’s in charge," he murmured, dragging his mouth along her jawline. "You don’t call the shots here, Reyna. I do."

She took a shaky breath. "Then prove it."

Daniels didn’t hesitate. He shucked off his own clothes before he lowered his mouth to hers, his tongue tracing the seam of her mouth until she moaned and then foraging inside. He trailed kisses down the length of her body—from her throat down to her toes and back up again until his mouth was on her sex, licking her labia and kissing and sucking her clit.

She was wet—soaked. He didn’t care if it was because of the adrenaline rush from the encounter with Artemis, his show of dominance, or what. All he cared about was that she was ripe and ready for him, and he meant to have her. He inhaled deeply, her scent nearly making him lose control.

He began devouring her pussy, like a starved man being given his first meal. Over and over, he speared her with his tongue, lapping up her honey. Reyna’s back arched as soon as he penetrated her with his fingers. She cried out as her orgasm rolled over her, her body going stiff and trembling before she went boneless. He rolled up onto his knees, his hard cock pointing true north. Her legs were spread, and her pussy still glistened with her honey. She looked like some ancient virgin laid out as a sacrifice for him.

He was rough, demanding, forcing her to acknowledge her own vulnerability. He teased, tormented, made her writhe beneath him until she was on the edge of breaking. Until she wasn’t fighting anymore—she was giving.

Daniels settled himself between her legs as if that place had always belonged to him. He thrust up into her, groaning as he did so. Nothing had ever felt this right. He wanted just to pound into her to ensure she understood who was calling the shots from now on. Instead, he nuzzled, sucked, and gave her nipples the edge of his teeth. She squirmed beneath him, reveling in her need.

He pulled back and plunged back in again and again. He could feel her body ramping up for another orgasm, and he was a greedy Dom. He wanted all of her orgasms from now on. As her pussy began to spasm along his length, he thrust harder and harder, wanting it to last, but also wanting to come with her.

And when he finally took her, finally gave into his need to spill himself inside her, it wasn’t just about dominance. It was about ownership. Reyna's second climax overwhelmed her with pure pleasure, causing him to grind against her as he filled her with his release.

When she came apart beneath him, gasping his name, Daniels knew—she was his.

His to protect. His to break. His to keep.

Reyna lay beneath him, her body soft and sated, her wrists still bound. He ran his fingers over her skin, watching as goosebumps rose in their wake. She turned her head, meeting his gaze. And for the first time since this whole thing had started, he saw it— fear.

But not fear of him. Fear of what she was feeling.

"Talk to me," he murmured.

She licked her lips, hesitating. Then...”I’m not scared of Artemis."

Daniels frowned. "Then what are you scared of?"

Her throat bobbed as she swallowed. "Losing you."

Something in his chest tightened.

Daniels wasn’t a man who made promises he couldn’t keep. He’d lost people before. He knew better than to think anyone was untouchable.

But when he looked at Reyna, still marked from him, still his, he knew one thing with absolute certainty.

"You’re mine," he said simply. "And I don’t lose what’s mine."

She breathed out shakily, nodding once.

He leaned down, brushing a kiss against her temple. "You good?" he murmured.

Reyna grinned— brat —"You tell me."

Daniels chuckled, shaking his head. "Smart ass."

She opened her mouth to retort but was stopped when the door flew open.

Daniels twisted, reaching for his gun in an instant. But it was Anton, breathless, his face pale.

Anton stopped and took in the situation. "Sorry to disturb you, but you need to see this," Anton said.

Daniels climbed out of bed, grabbing his pants and tugging them on. Reyna tried to sit up but was prevented from doing so by the ropes binding her wrists to the headboard.

“A little help here,” she snarled.

“Ask me nicely,” Daniels replied.

She started to make a snarky retort and thought better of it. “Would you please release me, Sir, so I can do my job, Sir?”

Daniels leaned over and kissed her, cutting her off before she got herself into more trouble. He couldn’t suppress the smile. Reyna was never going to be easy. There would always be a part of her that didn’t want to submit. He looked forward to that dance. He released her and tossed her his shirt.

Anton held up his phone. The screen glowed in the dim light. A name. A location.

Daniels’ blood ran cold.

"It’s not Reyna," Anton said grimly. "She’s not the final target."

Daniels took the phone, scanning the information. His grip on the device tightened.

Reyna swung her legs off the bed. "Who is it?"

Daniels lifted his gaze.

"Me," he said.

Silence.

Reyna went still. "What?"

Anton snorted. "Artemis isn’t after Reyna or Archer. She’s after you, Daniels."

The realization settled over him like ice.

Artemis wasn’t running anymore.

She was coming for him.

Daniels clenched his jaw. His mind shifted instantly, recalibrating. He wasn’t the kind of man who waited for death to come knocking.

He went to meet it head-on.

Reyna stood, gripping his arm. "We stop her."

Daniels looked at her, fire burning behind his eyes. "Damn right we do."

Because this wasn’t just a murder investigation or an op anymore.

This was war.