Alpha One (Shadow Agents #1)(11)
Author: Cynthia Eden

Because if she let the wall inside of herself down, even for a second, Juliana was very afraid that she might start crying and not stop. “Wanna tell me why you’re with me now?”

“Because you need someone to keep you alive!” Then he was charging across the room and catching her shoulders in a strong grip. “Or do you not even care about the little matter of living anymore?”

She stared up at him. Just stared. She was finding that being so close to Logan hurt. Over him? Not hardly. Once upon a time, she’d been ready to run away with the jerk.

She’d waited for him in a bus station—waited five hours.

He’d never shown. Too late, she’d learned that he’d left her behind.

Could she really count on him to keep sticking around now? He’d saved her butt in Mexico. Hell, yes, she was grateful, but Logan wasn’t the kind to stay forever. Juliana wasn’t going to depend on him again. “Call the cops,” she told him, weary beyond belief all of a sudden. Her body just wanted to sag, and she wanted to sleep. An adrenaline burst fading? Or just the crash she’d been fighting for days? Either way, the result was the same. “They can keep me safe.”

Juliana opened the door and entered the closet that passed for a bathroom.

“Juliana—”

Then she closed the door in his face. She looked in the mirror. Saw the too-pale face, wide eyes and the blood that covered her forehead.

She took another breath. Ash. How long would it be until she forgot that taste?

Her eyes squeezed shut. She could still feel the lance of fire on her skin. If Logan hadn’t been there, she would’ve been in that car.

And it would’ve been pieces of her that littered that cemetery.

* * *

LOGAN TURNED AWAY when he heard the sound of the shower. He yanked out his phone and punched the number for his boss. “What the hell happened?” he demanded when the line was answered. “The site should have been safe, it should have—”

“You aren’t secure.” Flat. Bruce Mercer was never the type to waste words or emotion. “We need you to get the woman and get out of that hotel. Backup is en route.”

Not secure? For the moment, they were. “No one followed me. No one—”

“There’s a leak in the senator’s office,” Mercer said in his perfectly polished voice. A voice that, right then, gave no hint of his New Jersey roots. Those roots only came out when Mercer was stressed—and very little ever stressed him. “Money talks, and we all know that Guerrero has a ton of money.”

More than enough money to make certain one woman died.

“You need to bring her in,” the boss ordered. “We’re setting up a meet location. Tell her she’ll be safe with you. Get her to trust you.”

Yes, that had been the plan…until the cemetery caught fire. “We’re still going through with this?” He almost crushed the phone. The shower was still running. Juliana couldn’t hear him, but just in case, Logan took a few cautious steps across the room.

“The plan remains the same. You know how vital this case is to the department.”

“I don’t want to put her in the line of fire.” She’d come close enough to death.

“That’s why you’re there, Alpha One. To come between her and any fire…just like you did today.”

Yes, he had the burn marks on his skin to prove it.

“Your relationship to her is key. You know that. Get her trust, and we can close this case and finally put Guerrero away.”

But could they keep her alive long enough to do it?

A pause hummed on the line. “Does she realize what’s happening?” Mercer wanted to know.

“She realizes that she’s targeted for death.” Any fool would realize that. Juliana wasn’t a fool.

Once, she’d been too trusting. Was she still? The idea of using her trust burned almost as much as those flames had.

“Have you told her about John?”

The shower shut off. His jaw clenched. “Not yet.”

“Do it. The sooner she realizes that you’re her only hope of staying alive, the sooner we get her cooperation.”

It wasn’t just about keeping her alive. The EOD wanted to use her. They were willing to set her up if it meant getting the job done.

Logan exhaled. “When are we moving her?”

“Ten minutes.”

The line died.

Ten minutes. Too little time to convince Juliana that he was the only one she could trust to keep her alive.

* * *

JULIANA WAS CLIMBING OUT of the shower when her cell phone rang. She’d washed away the blood and ash, but the icy water had done nothing to soothe the aches and pains in her body. She’d cried beneath that pounding water. Juliana hadn’t been able to hold back the tears any longer. Her whole body had trembled as she let her grief and pain pour out of her. Part of Juliana had just wanted to let the grief take control, but she’d fought that instinct. Gathering all of her strength, she’d managed to stop the tears. Managed to get her wall of self-control back in place.

As the phone rang again, she grabbed for the dress she’d tossed aside moments before and pulled her phone from the near-invisible pocket. Her fingertip slid across the smooth surface. Ben McLintock. Her father’s aide. The guy had to be frantic. She answered the call, lifting the phone to her ear as she said, “Ben, listen, I’m all right. I—”

The bathroom door crashed open. Juliana gasped and jumped back. Logan stood in the doorway, eyes fierce. “End the call.”

“Juliana!” Ben’s voice screeched. “Where are you? I searched for you after the explosion, but you’d vanished! Oh, God, at first—at first I thought you were in the car!”

She almost had been.

“Then a cop remembered seeing you jump into a truck.” His breath heaved over the line. “They’re saying it looks like a car bomb, it looks like—”

“I’m in a motel, Ben. I—”

Logan took the phone from her. Ended the call with a fast shove of his fingers. A muscle flexed in his jaw. “GPS tracking. Your phone just told him exactly where we are.”

His gaze swept over her. Crap, she was just wearing a towel, one that barely skimmed the tops of her thighs even while her br**sts pushed against the loose fold she’d made to secure the terry cloth. He’d seen her in less plenty of times, but that had been a long time ago.

Juliana grabbed her dress and held it in front of her body. It was a much better shield than the thin towel. “No one is tracking me, okay, Rambo? That was just Ben. He was worried and wanted to make sure—”