7. Hornet
7
HORNET
T he darkness in the safe-house’s bedroom was broken only by a sliver of moonlight through a gap in the curtains, illuminating the big brown eyes I’d so often gotten lost in. As soon as the door clicked behind me, I couldn’t wait another second. My mouth was on hers in an instant. I laid claim to her lips, her tongue, possessing her in the way I’d wanted to for months. When Kima whimpered and her body slumped against mine, I gathered her in my arms and rested her on the bed, all the while continuing the most passionate kiss I’d ever known. I’d wanted her for so long, but I’d never truly allowed myself to consider how this moment would feel. On our sides, facing each other, I ran my hands over her luscious curves, exploring her body first through her clothes. I gripped her hips, dragging her pelvis so my hardness pressed against her.
“Devin…” she whined more than said. “Please. I’ve waited so long.”
“You are my te?or , Kima,” I said, using the closest pronunciation I could manage of the Maltese version of treasure. The way her cheeks pinkened told me she liked it. “Let me take care of you tonight. Let me show you with my body what you mean to me.”
“Yes,” she whispered.
I eased off the bed, walked around the end, then held my hand out when she rolled to face me. When she stood before me, I pulled her shirt over her head, revealing breasts that swelled against the black lace of her bra. I ran a finger under the strap. “This is hot as fuck, but it needs to come off.” Reaching around, I unfastened the clasp, then let the cloth fall to the floor. Needing to feel her skin against mine, I pulled my shirt off, bringing our bodies flush as my lips found hers again. Our mouths fused, tongues tangling, fingers wrapped in one another’s hair. I lowered my head and suckled first one nipple, worshiping it before moving to the other.
Kima’s body writhed, her fingers dug into my shoulders, and a hiss exploded from her lips as I sucked harder, squeezing her mounds together, wanting both at once. I lowered my body until I was on my knees, lavishing her skin with my tongue as I went.
When I unfastened her trousers and eased them over her hips, she toed off her shoes, allowing her pants to fall to the floor. I lifted one of her feet, removing her sock, then the other. Kima stood naked before me, but the moonlight wasn’t bright enough for me to see her the way I’d longed to.
“Lie on the bed,” I said, reaching over to switch on the light. “Let me look at you.”
When she did, I spread her legs, rested between them, and kissed her. I started with her mouth, then slowly made my way down her neck to her breasts. Resting my hands on the soft flesh on the inside of her thighs, I spread her open more, then hovered above her pussy. I used my tongue the same way I had with her mouth, stroking, sliding, tasting as her whimpers excited me to the point where my cock throbbed. But this wasn’t about me. It was about Kima allowing me to care for her. She murmured words I couldn’t understand before the tone of her voice lowered in what could only be described as keening. Her nails dug into my flesh, and I deepened the licking, laving, and sucking hard on her nub until she broke apart, her essence flooding my mouth as she quivered in my arms. I shifted so I was beside her, softly stroking her hair until her breathing evened out.
Even in sleep, Kima was beautiful. Her dark hair spilled across the pillow, her features softening in repose. Though her body curled against mine, I could feel tension in her shoulders where she carried the weight of the mission.
I didn’t sleep, couldn’t allow myself to. Instead, I memorized the contours of her face, fearing that, somehow, she might disappear again if I drifted off. Earlier, when she’d asked me to stay with her, something fundamental had shifted between us. Years of restraint had crumbled with that simple request.
She stirred slightly, murmuring something in her sleep. I gently brushed a strand of hair from her face, the tenderness of the gesture still unfamiliar. For two years, I’d maintained my distance, following Typhon’s orders while ignoring what grew between us. Now, I wondered how I’d managed it for so long. Tonight, though, each kiss between us was a promise of what could be.
I continued holding her, letting her rest while my mind worked through what lay ahead.
Dawn was breaking when I gently extracted myself from the bed. Kima shifted but didn’t wake. I pulled the blanket up over her shoulders before slipping from the room.
Reaper was already in the kitchen, his tall frame hunched over a laptop, a steaming mug beside him. Since we first met at the coalition headquarters, I couldn’t remember anyone rising earlier than he did. He acknowledged me with a nod as I poured myself coffee from the pot he’d brewed.
“You look like hell,” he observed.
“Feel like it too.” I took a seat across from him, stretching out muscles stiff from tension rather than sleep. “Something’s bothering me about the FSB’s response at the gala the other night.”
“Overkill,” he agreed, turning the laptop so I could see the screen. “I’ve been running analytics on response patterns. Standard protocol would’ve been two, maybe three agents initially. They sent seven.”
“They were waiting for something.”
“Jekyll,” Reaper said, closing the laptop.
I sipped my coffee, letting the caffeine clear the fog of exhaustion. “What’s your read on Amaryllis?”
“Professional. Competent.” He paused, considering. “And hiding something.”
“Everyone in this business is hiding something.”
Reaper gave a dry laugh. “True enough.” He leaned back, studying me. “When’s the last time you spoke with Typhon?”
I set my mug down. “The other day on the plane.” I scrubbed my face. “Now that I’ve directly disobeyed him by not bringing Delfino back to London, I would guess I’m in a fucking lot of trouble.”
“He knew you wouldn’t.” Reaper’s statement caught me off guard. He seemed to enjoy my surprise. “Why do you think he sent me instead of coming himself?”
“Because he’s Typhon,” I replied automatically. “He doesn’t chase; he waits for people to come to him.”
“Partially true.” Reaper took a sip of his coffee. “He also knows Delfino needs to see this through, and if he were here, he’d feel obligated to take her back to the UK. His personal feelings would override what she needs.”
I processed this, attempting to reconcile the often ruthless Unit-23 commander with someone capable of such nuance. “So he sent you…to make sure she stays safe while she finishes this.”
“And to keep you from getting yourself killed trying to protect her.” Reaper’s expression softened. “He also mentioned he’d kill us both if anything happens to Delfino, but that was implied from the start.”
Despite everything, I laughed, imagining Typhon saying those exact words.
“I’m working outside official channels,” Reaper continued, his tone more serious. “I’m not here under K19 Security Solutions or coalition orders. Typhon arranged for me to operate independently.”
“Are you risking your position with your current ‘official’ employer?” I asked.
Reaper shook his head. “Have you met Doc and Merrigan Butler?”
While I was familiar with who they were—they were bloody legends in intelligence—I’d never had the pleasure. “I have not,” I admitted.
He shrugged. “They’d be the first to tell you that some things go beyond protocol, beyond rules and regulations. It’s one of the reasons Doc formed K19.”
The sincerity in his voice struck me. I’d never particularly warmed to Americans—found them typically too loud, too brash, too quick to action without thought. But Reaper had proven himself different. Methodical, measured, with a dry humor that occasionally surfaced through his professional exterior.
“We need secure communications outside Unit 23’s network,” I said after a moment. “Something Typhon can’t access if he changes his mind.”
“Already on it.” Reaper pulled a small case from his bag, opening it to reveal several encrypted devices. “Oleander helped set these up. She’s running interference from London, making it look as though you’re still pursuing leads in Sofia.”
I raised a brow. “Oleander’s helping? I’m not exactly her most favored person.”
“You’re right, but she’s got a soft spot for Delfino.” Reaper handed me one of the devices. “And apparently thinks you two were meant for each other, orders be damned.”
I felt heat rise to my neck but kept my expression neutral as I examined the communications equipment. Military-grade, but with modifications I didn’t recognize. “Where did these come from?”
“Better not to ask.” Reaper closed the case. “The last one’s for Amaryllis. She’s running surveillance on the estate perimeter. Should be back within the hour.”
“You trust her with this?”
“I don’t trust her at all,” he replied evenly. “But we need her resources, and she needs our access. For now, that’s enough.”
The soft sound of a door opening drew our attention. Amaryllis entered the kitchen, a light sheen of sweat on her forehead suggesting she’d been running the perimeter for physical reconnaissance, rather than relying on technology.
“Perimeter’s clear,” she announced, helping herself to coffee. “But my sources have reported increased activity at the estate. More security arriving by the hour. Something significant is happening tonight.”
“Any sign of Jekyll?” I asked.
“Nothing yet.” She pulled out her phone, projecting schematics of the estate onto a blank wall like Reaper had last night. “I’ve identified three potential entry points with minimal security coverage.”
Reaper studied the diagram with a furrowed brow. “The northeast approach has too much open ground. Southwest would be better.”
“Southwest is where they’re expecting trouble,” Amaryllis countered. “They’ve doubled patrols since yesterday.”
“Which is why no one would anticipate an approach from that direction. It’s counterintuitive,” Reaper argued.
“It’s suicide,” she shot back.
I watched their exchange with growing frustration. Both were clearly competent, but their refusal to yield ground to each other would compromise the mission.
“Enough,” I interjected, my tone sharper than intended. “As a reminder, neither of you owns this mission. Delfino does. I’m her second. We’ll make the final call on approach vectors.”
They both turned to me, surprise evident before professionalism reasserted itself.
“Understood,” Amaryllis replied after a pause.
Reaper gave a curt nod. “Yes, sir.”
The tension in the room eased, but was still palpable. These two were oil and water—both essential but fundamentally opposed. I made a mental note to keep them separated as much as possible during the ops.
The sound of soft footsteps announced Kima’s arrival. She’d changed into tactical clothes, her hair pulled back in a braid. Her eyes met mine across the room, a private smile softening her features momentarily before she shifted into operational mode.
“What did I miss?” she asked, accepting the coffee I handed her. To everyone else, she was Delfino, the professional agent with the carefully guarded exterior. Only I was allowed to see Kima, the woman behind the code name.
“Disagreement on approach,” I summarized. “Increased security at the estate. We were discussing communication protocols as well as mission ownership.”
She raised a brow.
“Merely confirming that this is your baby, Delfino.”
I saw the glimmer of a smile. “Being inside before Jekyll arrives gives us more control over the variables,” she said, studying the projected schematics.
“Agreed,” I said when we exchanged a glance. “But we need to be certain of his attendance. No point exposing ourselves if he’s not there.”
“My source confirms he’s expected. Along with several high-level Russian ‘officials’ operating outside the FSB,” Amaryllis offered, using air quotes.
I watched as Kima absorbed the information.
“Then, we proceed as planned,” she stated, every inch the professional agent Delfino rather than the woman I’d held through the night. “Reaper on overwatch. Amaryllis with internal support. Hornet and I making direct contact if possible.”
The decisiveness in her voice left no room for debate. I felt a surge of pride watching her take command, a natural leader despite her youth. She’d grown tremendously in the two years since I met her—she was no longer the brilliant but somewhat impulsive agent who occasionally let emotion cloud her judgment. This mission had sharpened her focus, forced her to channel passion into professionalism.
After the briefing, I followed Kima outside to the deck overlooking the Black Sea. The morning light shone brightly on the water. For a while, neither of us spoke, simply absorbing the rare moment of quiet before the storm that surely lay ahead.
“Do you trust Reaper?” she eventually asked, her gaze still on the horizon.
“With my life,” I replied without hesitation. “And yours.”
“And Amaryllis?”
“I trust her motivation. Whatever’s driving her, it’s genuine. The details…I’m less certain about.”
“That’s my read too.” Kima turned to face me fully. “I need to know you’re with me on this, Hornet. Not just following orders or?—”
“I’m with you,” I cut in, taking her hand. “Orders, duty, protocols—none of that matters now. This is about you finding answers. Whatever happens, I’m at your side. Not as your bodyguard. As your partner.”
The tension in her shoulders eased slightly. She squeezed my hand in silent acknowledgment.
“Jekyll might not be the man you remember,” I said gently. “Eleven years undercover changes people, especially deep cover.”
“I know.” Her voice was quiet but steady. “I’m prepared for that.”
I wasn’t certain she truly was, but I respected her enough not to say so. Instead, I pulled her close, pressing a kiss to her forehead. She leaned into me briefly before straightening, the moment of vulnerability passing as she refocused on the op ahead.
“We should prepare the equipment,” she said, professional once more. “I want to review the guest list again before we finalize our covers.”
As we returned inside, I caught Reaper watching us, his expression unreadable. When Kima moved to join Amaryllis at the computers, he approached me.
“Delfino’s stronger than most operatives I’ve worked with,” he observed quietly.
“She is,” I agreed.
“Good thing,” he replied, his tone somber. “Because whatever Jekyll’s involved in, my hunch is that it’s far bigger than anything we’ve ever encountered. I also predict it’s going to get much worse before it gets better.”
The certainty in his voice sent a chill through me. I looked over at the woman who held my heart, focused intently on her work, and silently renewed my promise to stand with her through whatever lay ahead—even if it meant facing Typhon’s wrath when this was all over.
Hours later, we loaded the last of our equipment and stepped into the waiting vehicle, headed toward whatever Jekyll had set in motion all those years ago.