Juliana’s old man had been a coward until the end.
“—when the explosion rocked the service.”
No, it hadn’t rocked the service. The blast had erupted after the service. His sources were better than hers.
“One man was killed in the explosion—”
The driver had been collateral damage. There was always collateral damage.
“—while four others were injured. Juliana James left the scene and is now in an undisclosed location.”
His eyes narrowed. The reporter rambled on, saying nothing particularly useful. After a moment, he shut off the television, then turned slowly to face his first in command.
Luis Sanchez swallowed, the movement stretching the crisscross of scars on his throat. The man was already sweating.
“Was I not clear?” Diego asked softly.
“Sí,” Luis rasped. His damaged voice was often limited to rough rasps and growls.
“Then, if I told you—clearly—that I wanted Juliana James brought back to me alive—” he shrugged, a seemingly careless move, but it still caused Luis to flinch
“—why did she nearly die today?”
Luis shifted from his right foot to his left. “I heard...word on the street is that...s-someone else has a hit on her. They’re offering top dollar...for her dead body.”
Now, that gave him pause. “Who?”
“D-don’t know, but I will find out. I will—”
“You will,” Diego agreed, “or you’ll be the one dying.” He never made idle threats. Luis understood that. Luis had been with him for five years—and he’d witnessed Guerrero carry out all of his...promises to both friends and enemies.
“Put the word out that Juliana James isn’t to be touched.” Except by him. They had unfinished business. She couldn’t die, not yet. He needed her to keep living a bit longer. “And when you find the one who put out this hit—” he leaned forward and softly ordered “—you make his death hurt.”
Because no one interfered with Diego’s plans. No one.
Chapter Four
The place wasn’t exactly what she’d expected. Juliana glanced around the small elevator from the corner of her eye. When Logan had said that he was taking her in for a briefing with his team, she’d figured they’d go somewhere that was...official.
Not so much a hole-in-the-wall.
From the outside, the building hadn’t even looked inhabited. Just a big, rough wooden building. Maybe three stories.
But Logan had led the way inside, walking with sure steps. Now they were riding up the creaking elevator, and Juliana was forcing herself to take slow, deep breaths.
She’d cried in the shower. She hadn’t been able to help herself. But she wouldn’t, couldn’t cry now. Now wasn’t the time for weakness.
The elevator came to a hard stop, jarring Juliana and sending her stumbling into Logan. The guy didn’t so much as move an inch, of course, because he was like some kind of military superhuman, but his arms closed around her.
“I’ve got you.”
That was her problem. Being with him—it was just making everything more painful.
She pulled away and saw a muscle flex in his jaw. “I’m fine.” The doors were sliding open. Very, very slowly. “Is this the best that the EOD could do?” The EOD. He’d told her a little more about the EOD on the drive over, but the information that he’d given her regarding the Shadow Agents just hadn’t been enough to satisfy her curiosity.
When she’d tried to press him, she’d gotten a just-the-facts-ma’am type of routine. That hadn’t been good enough. Juliana had kept pressing. The need-to-know routine was getting on her nerves.
Logan had told her that the EOD was composed of individuals from different military and government backgrounds. Their missions were usually highly classified.
And very, very dangerous.
A situation tailor-made for Logan and his team.
“On short notice, this building was the best we could find in terms of providing us with a low-profile base,” a woman’s voice told her, and Juliana glanced up to see Sydney walking toward them. Sydney stared at Logan with one raised eyebrow. “We were starting to wonder if you’d gotten lost.”
He growled. Was that a response? Juliana guessed so, because in the next instant, they were all heading down a narrow hallway. A fast turn, then they entered an office. One that didn’t look nearly as run-down as the rest of the place. Two laptops and a stash of weapons were on the right. Some empty chairs waited to the left.
Juliana gladly slumped into the nearest chair.
I can still feel the fire on my skin. Even the cold water from the shower hadn’t been able to wash away that memory. Juliana rubbed her hands over her arms and caught Logan’s narrow-eyed glance.
The guy watched her too much. Like a hawk.
She cleared her throat, glanced away from him and saw the others file into the room. No masks this time. Just tough, fierce fighters.
The woman was already sitting down near the side of the table. Sydney. Juliana had no idea what the woman’s last name was. She was booting up her laptop while a big, blond male leaned over her shoulder.
Gunner closed the door, sealing them inside, and he flashed her a broad grin. Was that grin supposed to be reassuring? It looked like a smile that a tiger would give the prey he was about to eat.
The silence in the room hit her then, and Juliana realized that everyone was just...staring at her. Hell, had she missed something?
“You understand why you must have protection, right?” Sydney pressed. Juliana realized the woman must have asked the question before.
Her breath eased out slowly as her gaze swept over them. “Tell me your names.” A simple thing, maybe, but she was tired of being in the dark. From this point on, she expected to be in the loop about everything.
“I’m Sydney,” the woman said with a slow blink, “and I...um, believe that you know Logan pretty well.”
Too well. She would not blush right then. She was way past the blushing point. An exploding car made a woman forget embarrassment.
“I’m Gunner,” the big guy to the right said. His dark hair fell longer than Logan’s, and his eyes—no eyes should be so dark and so cold.
Juliana glanced at the last man. The blond wasn’t leaning over Sydney any longer. He’d taken a seat next to her. His arm brushed against hers.
“Jasper,” he said. Just that. More rumble than anything else.
Gunner frowned at the guy, and his dark, cold gaze lingered on the arm that Jasper had pressed against Sydney.