27. Chapter Twenty-Seven
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Kathleen was uncomfortable in her red dress, not because she was unused to wearing formal wear or high heels, but because the cut made it impossible to conceal any weapon on herself. She settled for a snub-nosed Beretta in her purse as a backup.
She was confident that, despite his spotless appearance, Finn was carrying just as many weapons as he usually sported. He was dressed all in black—black shirt, black tie, black suit jacket, and pants. Kathleen had no idea where he’d found the outfit—one of his boltholes, he had said. She had slicked his hair back with gel, and his clean-shaven features made him look completely different from when she’d first met him.
Looking at him made her heart pound, so she promised herself she wouldn’t look. She needed to focus on the job ahead. In her purse, Kathleen had a bug Finn had supplied, along with an in-ear communication unit in case they were separated.
They made a striking picture together, blending in. The grand ballroom of the Marriott Marquis was huge, lit in shades of pink and purple, with matching colored flowers decorating every finely laid table. Tickets for the event cost thousands of dollars a piece, and the ballroom was filled with patrons in gowns and suits that cost more than she earned in two months. While her and Finn’s clothing wasn’t as expensive, the blend of colored lights turned everything a little hazy and allowed them to pass uncontested.
Finn had guided them into the hotel through the service entrance. While no one had stopped them, the various tables lining the ballroom were all reserved seating. Kathleen had been hoping to arrive after dinner when it was easier to mingle, but the man dominating the stage at the front of the room didn’t want to give up the spotlight.
Governor Wyatt Wilson.
Kathleen should have guessed he would be here. He would recognize her, but there was a room full of people between them—and she intended to keep it that way. The warmth of Finn’s hand rested on the small of her back, guiding her toward a table. He pulled out a seat for her, then settled down like they belonged.
Good bet that their target, Senator Thomas Kennedy, was somewhere up the front. Probably even sharing a table with the governor himself.
“One of the reasons I decided to run for office was to give back to the community who gave so much to me,” Wyatt Wilson said. “Tonight, I urge you all to donate generously to fund further cancer research. And if you need any extra incentive…” He laughed, and the crowd tittered along with him. “Be sure to check out the items available for auction. Trust me, you won’t be disappointed.”
Wilson leaned closer to the microphone and whispered loudly, “Though I’ll give you a run for your money on that diamond tiara. My wife will be very upset with me if I don’t come home with it.” More laughter. “And now I understand we’re going to have some music, so drink freely, donate freely, and enjoy your night!”
Applause broke out, including from those at their table. Kathleen clapped along with them, touching Finn’s sleeve to get his attention when he sat unmoving. He was too close to the Hound here, and she wondered whether it was safer to send him away. Given his insistence on coming, she didn’t like her chances.
Kathleen leaned toward Finn. “Are you okay?”
He nodded, glanced her way for a heartbeat, then resumed surveilling the room.
“I can’t look at you,” he answered softly.
“Why?”
“You’re a distraction.”
It took a second for her to realize that he meant it tactically, as well as a compliment. Kathleen felt the corners of her lips lifting. Pathetic, maybe, but his words, as infrequent as they were, meant a great deal.
“In the best way?”
“And the worst way,” Finn agreed, his eyes flickering to her for a second.
The emotion in his blue eyes—a heady warmth and want—made her stomach flutter. “Hold that thought for later.”
A DJ was already taking Wilson’s place center stage as the latter walked toward a table near the front of the ballroom. Music began playing, and people all over the room were standing, most moving toward the cleared space to dance.
Impatience made her rise. Finn’s gaze was somewhere across the room when Kathleen said, “Well, darling, shall we go say hello to the senator? It’s been too long.”
It took a second for Finn’s attention to shift back to her. Kathleen could see the struggle on his face as his wants fought with his trained instincts. His gaze turned heated, stilling the breath in her chest. Focus, Harper.
“Well, lad, don’t keep the girl waiting.” The older man across the table snorted. “If you don’t, I’ll escort you,” he added with a wink at her.
Kathleen smiled. He was obviously teasing. Finn tensed, so she took his arm and reached for a wine glass. “He hates these things. If he abandons me, I’ll come and find you later.”
The man laughed. “It’s a deal.”
Finn stared darkly at him, and Kathleen tugged at his arm, pulling him away.
She waited until they were a good five steps from the table before she suggested, “Split the difference. Wilson doesn’t know what you look like, so you track him and keep him away from me. I’ll go after the senator?”
“I don’t like this.”
Kathleen could tell from the tension in Finn’s forearm under her fingers. “What if I promise you a dance later?”
Finn slowed down enough that she had to stop. He worked to switch his thoughts from that of the Hound, struggling. She touched his cheek with her free hand, and he leaned into the gesture, half closing his eyes.
“Earpiece,” he said.
Kathleen took it for acceptance and made him hold her wine while she slotted the device into her ear and switched it on. He did the same after she reclaimed her glass. Hearing the surrounding crowd reflected again in her ear was disconcerting, though it didn’t appear to bother Finn. He remained steadfastly watching her.
“Be careful,” Kathleen said, voicing what she thought she saw in his expression. The thing he struggled to express.
Finn nodded once, then slipped into the crowd. She watched him go, tracking his stalking figure, and wished she was going with him. His suit fitted him so perfectly she wondered whether it was tailored. It highlighted his broad shoulders perfectly.
Kathleen hoped they could get that dance, but she had other immediate priorities.
Finn could hear Kathleen’s breath in his ear, like a siren song.
Parting from her felt impossible. Even though he was in the same room, that didn’t feel close enough. He wanted to touch her. Wanted to dance with her. He wanted to run his hands underneath that tight red dress of hers and over her rounded ass. He wanted to bend her over the table in front of everyone else and plunge himself deep inside of her to the hilt. To feel her warmth around him. To claim her in front of everyone. The urge was so overwhelming that he took two steps in her direction before catching the change in path.
Kathleen was in his head in the best and worst way.
Right now, though, she needed him to be focused. They needed to complete the mission and find and track Wilson. Later, he would admire that red dress of hers up close, take his time peeling her out of it, or simply fuck her in it the moment they were alone.
The anticipation gave Finn’s steps a spring.
This place, all these people, had him on edge. Too many uncontrolled variables. He couldn’t let his guard down, so he slipped into the old routines. It was as easy as breathing. Scope the threats, scope the exits. Security moved throughout the crowd; they blended well with their suits, but he could always tell. They were packing, and they were looking for anyone else who was, too.
Which meant he needed to stay off their radar.
It wasn’t difficult. The crowd remained oblivious to the threat in their midst as he stalked among them, searching for his target.
Finn knew this space. He had been on a mission here recently enough that he recalled the layout of the hotel, the code of the service elevator, and the name of the head housekeeper. The opulence of the room was something he had dressed for previously. All that knowledge, and yet he couldn’t recall the specifics of the previous mission.
The awareness created an uneasy tightness in his gut. He hadn’t been to maintenance… had he? Was his memory going, breaking down like other Agents? Would he forget Kathleen if he didn’t stay near her?
It felt impossible. She consumed his thoughts.
Finn sighted Senator Thomas Kennedy first, standing with a group of people, and was careful not to look the senator’s way as he passed near. He couldn’t remember the circumstances in which he had met the senator. The eyes had stuck with him, though. Another troubling absence of detail he would need to think about when he could focus better.
Most of the crowd had gathered in the open space before the DJ, dancing to the unfamiliar music. Wilson wasn’t the sort of man to embarrass himself, so Finn was certain the man was elsewhere. He completed a half circuit of the room before he located the politician, head bent toward another suited man, deep in conversation.
“I have a twenty on my target,” Finn murmured, “He’s at the tables at nine o’clock. Your target is talking with a group three tables back from the stage, center.” Kathleen’s acknowledgment was liquid delight in his ears. He could hear the whisper of her movement.
Wilson moved, and Finn’s gaze snapped to him. The politician had a rigid anger in his posture as he stalked away.
“Target is on the move. I’m tracking him.”
As he moved through the crowd after Wilson, Finn noted two figures pacing the man. He lagged back as Wilson headed for the edge of the room.
He could hear voices through the earpiece, one in particular sending a shiver down his spine. His focus snapped to it. It was a second’s distraction, but he should have known better. The hairs on Finn’s neck stirred even before he even sighted the threat.
The Handler.
Adrenalin coursed through Finn, ready to help him fight—or run—but he did neither. He froze in place, watching as Milford approached.
Finn could still hear the crowd through the earpiece with Kathleen, and it stirred him to movement. He turned his head, scanning the room, bringing his hand up to his ear to cut the connection with Kathleen. She was a distraction, a weakness, and he couldn’t afford that right now, as much as he wanted to capture the soothing sound of her breathing.
She was safer this way.
Kathleen floated through the room, slipping into the group of people that contained her target.
Senator Thomas Kennedy was surrounded by people who, just like him, projected an air of wealth and power. There were three men in fine, tailored suits and Rolex watches and a pair of women in glittering diamond jewelry and expensive gowns.
While Kathleen had never been someone to envy wealth, it was impossible not to feel inferior in the face of such an open demonstration of it. She smiled her best smile, easing closer to the senator.
“…simply must come by the golf course and let me show off how good I’ve gotten since I had a certain PGA champion personally coach me last month,” one of the men declared.
Senator Kennedy laughed, but all Kathleen felt was a prickling of discomfort.
Where Wilson held a politician’s smile, Kennedy appeared far more natural. Kathleen could almost believe he was genuinely enthusiastic. “Well, you know, things are heating up for me on the campaign trail. But I’ll always make time for you, Bob.”
Bob grinned, but before he could seal the deal, the woman next to him leaned past him to stare in her direction. Shit. “Oh, how quaint. Is that dress vintage?”
Now that was just plain rude. The way the woman looked at her had an air of ‘what is this awful thing I just found on the bottom of my shoe’ about it. Kathleen hadn’t the faintest idea about fashion, current or past, but the words made her bristle. She was here to play nice, though, so she just smiled.
“Actually, it was a dress worn by Ingrid Bergman. Given she passed of cancer, I thought it fitting for a cancer research fundraiser.”
The dress was off the rack. Given the weighted silence that followed, the woman didn’t know that. Bob coughed awkwardly to cover up his laughter.
Kathleen’s earpiece crackled faintly, but she heard nothing more.
The whisper of Finn’s words in her ear had been incredibly intimate. She wondered if he felt the same. She hadn’t liked the neutral disassociated tone of his voice when he’d updated her, but there was nothing she could do about it for now.
“Well.” Senator Kennedy cleared his throat. “That’s certainly fitting, indeed. And I’m delighted you’re with us tonight, Miss…?”
“Jones,” Kathleen said. “Maria Jones. And it’s a delight to meet you. It’s fantastic to see such a strong figure keeping the intelligence community honest, senator. Would you do me the honor of a photograph? I’d love to show my brother. He’s serving overseas right now. He’ll be jealous I got to meet you.”
“How could I possibly deny such a beautiful woman and a flattering request?” Kennedy smiled and moved closer.
Kathleen dug in her purse, palming the bug with one hand while she drew out her phone with the other.
She handed the phone to Bob. “Would you mind?”
Bob, appearing eager to win points with the senator, snapped to, taking the phone. “Say cheese,” he ordered.
Kennedy drew close, sliding his arm around her waist. His touch was light, clearly used to posing for photographs and not looking to provoke any scandal. She reached her hand around his back as they both turned on the charm for Bob. As he snapped the photo, she slipped the bug into the senator’s pocket.
Kathleen claimed her phone, making a show of examining the photo. “This really will make my brother’s day. Thank you so much, senator. Good luck in the race,” she added as she offered her hand.
Kennedy had his handshake perfected: that of someone with no need to prove anything. “Tell your brother he does his country an honor for serving.”
“I will, senator.” Kathleen smiled at him, nodding to the rest of the group, and slipped away.
The DJ switched from upbeat music to something slower, and she glanced at the dance floor. As tempted as she was to suggest a dance, now that the job was done, she just wanted to get out.
“All set,” Kathleen murmured, knowing Finn would hear her. “Rendezvous back at the table?”
No response, and she heard nothing but a blank silence through the earpiece. Frowning, Kathleen repeated, “Finn?”
No answer.
A chill coursed through her. “…Hound?” Kathleen said.
She couldn’t tell if the noise she heard was a breath or just her imagination. She turned in place, looking for his tall, muscled frame, for his suave black outfit, even for the stalking pace she associated with the Hound.
Nothing. He was gone.
“Idon’t recall you being sent on a mission, Hound,” Milford said. “This is most unusual.”
Finn said nothing, fixing his gaze somewhere above the Handler’s shoulder.
“Return to Command.”
The words sparked through Finn like an inexorable demand. An exit through the service entrance, steal a car from the visitor’s parking lot, dump it a block from Cloverton House, then return to Command. The path laid itself out in his mind in seconds.
“I see now that you are defective. Kathleen Harper is a weakness. And weaknesses must be eliminated. You know this, Hound.”
The Handler was disappointed, but the disapproval washed over Finn under the roar of fury he felt at the words. He stopped and regarded the Handler. The man’s eyes widened, and his mouth parted, his words cut off as Finn grabbed his throat and squeezed.
“You don’t say her name,” Finn snarled. “To me or anyone else. If I even sense a single Agent looking her way, I will dispatch them and then come and find you. You won’t be able to hide from me. I am the predator, and you will be my prey if you even think about harming her.”
The Handler choked, his face flushed red as his hands wrapped around his wrist, tugging desperately.
Finn could hear the wild beat of the Handler’s heart. He could sense the fear, the awareness of the Hound and what he was capable of. He knew this was wrong. He knew this was defective behavior. He would be sent to maintenance, but he didn’t care. The idea of this man getting anywhere near Kathleen made his gut turn and his blood boil, and he needed, more than anything, for the Handler to understand precisely how serious he was on this point.
Milford’s eyes fluttered, and he made an aborted noise, frantically bobbing his head as his hand weakened. Finn loosened his grip, and the Handler sagged, coughing as he drew in a gasped breath. The fear hadn’t entirely fled from his expression, but another emotion was in there, too. Something Finn didn’t fully recognize, paired with a narrow-eyed regard that he had never experienced previously.
The Handler swallowed, his hand rubbing his throat. “I won’t,” he said, his voice rough and uneven. “I won’t hurt her, Hound. But you know the rules. If it isn’t me, it will be someone else. You don’t return to Command, Agents will be sent after her. They might not even kill her. They might take her and remake her, body and soul, into someone you won’t recognize… and who won’t recognize you.”
Finn knew fear intimately. When it took hold of him, he lost his voice. His anger cooled at the ice-cold awareness in his veins.
The Handler was right. Command would destroy Kathleen’s soul. Finn knew it to be true because they had done the same to him.
He was a fool to think he could have had something and someone as amazing as Kathleen Harper. He didn’t deserve someone like her. He was a killer with blood on his hands. He deserved isolation and suffering. He wasn’t even a real person—just a half memory of a once man he could no longer remember the history of.
Someone like him could only bring pain and anguish into her life. The happiness and contentment he had felt in her presence had been painfully real, but it was an illusion—one he would shatter, sooner or later—with his broken edges.
Finn’s hand slipped into his pants pocket, fingers coiling over the lock of hair he had stashed there. The acute edge of personal want rushed over him, but he couldn’t give in to the selfish desire. He needed to protect her—from him.
“I will return to Command,” Finn said, gazing over the Handler’s shoulder. “First thing tomorrow morning.”
Finn could see in his peripheral vision a tick in the Handler’s cheek. The man was less than happy, but his words didn’t have the compelling hold they usually did. Finn’s thoughts were too caught up with her.
“First thing tomorrow. You know what happens if you’re not there, Hound.”
Finn knew. It wouldn’t be him suffering the consequences of that decision.
He had to find her.