Code Name Reaper
Amaryllis
T he safe house had grown silent, save for the patter of rain against the windows and my own ragged breathing. Three days on the run had taken their toll, but physical exhaustion was the least of my concerns.
“Why did you really come for me in Prague?”
My question hung in the darkness between us. Reaper stood by the window, his silhouette outlined by the occasional flash of lightning. The storm outside was nothing compared to the tempest brewing within these walls.
“You know why,” he answered, his voice dropping to that low timber that sent unwelcome heat spiraling through my body despite my exhaustion.
“Professional courtesy?” I challenged, struggling to keep my empathic abilities in check. His emotions were too complex, too dangerous to navigate right now—especially the undercurrent that matched the heat in my own veins.
He turned from the window, and even in the dim light, I could feel the intensity of his gaze trailing over me. “Is that what you think?”
“I think,” I began, fighting to ignore how his broad shoulders filled the doorframe, “that Kingston Black doesn’t make impulsive decisions. Doesn’t abandon his post with K19 or the coalition. Doesn’t risk his career to chase a rogue NSA agent across Eastern Europe without authorization.”
Unless he had an agenda.
The file I’d discovered earlier lay hidden in my bag—encrypted data I’d stumbled upon while searching for evidence against Dr. Aldrich. Data about me. My fingertips still burned from tracing those classified documents and the impossible connections they suggested.
“You read people for a living, Amaryllis.” He’d stepped closer, close enough for me to detect the faint scent of gunpowder and rain clinging to his skin. Close enough that the heat of his body reached mine. “Read me now.”
I retreated a step, maintaining my distance even as my body betrayed me by wanting to lean in. Touch would amplify my abilities to dangerous levels, and I couldn’t afford to drop my shields—not with him. Not with how my pulse quickened whenever he said my name.
“I’d rather you just tell me the truth,” I said, my voice steadier than I felt. “What aren’t you saying?”
Lightning flashed again, illuminating the room and the hunger that darkened his eyes before his expression shuttered closed. For a man who kept everything locked down tight, that momentary slip was equivalent to a shout.
“The same thing you’re not saying,” he countered, his gaze dropping briefly to my lips before returning to my eyes.
My breath caught. Did he know? About the file? About what I’d discovered? Or was he referring to this crackling tension between us that neither of us had acknowledged since our first heated argument in Moscow?
“We all have secrets,” I deflected, taking a step back, my hip brushing against the table.
“Not from each other. Not anymore.” His hand caught my wrist, gentle but firm, thumb brushing against my racing pulse. “Not if we’re going to survive what’s coming.”
The contact sent a jolt through my defenses, giving me a flash of his emotions—determination, concern, and a desire so intense it left me breathless. I jerked away, but not before my body had responded to that brief connection, leaving me flushed and off-balance.
“Some secrets aren’t mine to share,” I said, echoing the words he’d once spoken to Delfino in Montenegro, hating how husky my voice sounded.
His eyes narrowed fractionally as he stepped closer, eliminating the space I’d put between us. “And some secrets will get you killed if you carry them alone.”
The weight of the encrypted file grew heavier with each passing second. Whatever it contained—truth or another elaborate deception—it connected me to Jekyll, to Dr. Carrington, to a past I’d never known existed. And perhaps to the man standing before me, whose presence in my life had never felt coincidental and whose proximity was becoming increasingly difficult to resist.
“We should be prepared to leave at dawn,” I said instead of answering, retreating behind professionalism though my body screamed for something else entirely. “Dr. Carrington needs medical attention, and Aldrich’s people won’t be far behind.”
Reaper studied me for a long moment, his eyes running over my face and down my neck, then back up again. He nodded once. “This conversation isn’t over.”
“No,” I agreed softly as he moved toward the doorway, my body still humming from our brief contact. “I don’t suppose it is.”
When I was alone again, I pressed my fingers to my lips, still feeling the phantom heat of his gaze there. I retrieved the file, my hand hovering over the encryption key. Whatever truths lay within these digital pages would change everything—about my past, my purpose, and possibly my future.
I just wasn’t sure I was ready for what I might find.
Or what it would mean for the man I’d been trained to distrust but was increasingly unable to deny—in all the ways that mattered.