“Let me target him for you. I’ll sucker him in, con him into taking me. Then you find me and take him out. I know you can do it, Owen. Let me do this for you. If we’re going to be partners, you have to let me in.”
Owen groaned and hugged Ian tighter. He started moving again, needing to fill his lover with himself all over again. “Ian, I can’t lose you. I just can’t.”
“You won’t. Trust me, baby.” Ian paused. “Trust me the way I trust you.”
After a moment, Owen caved. “You little shit. Fine.”
Ian’s laugh turned into a groan as Owen reached for him again.
“But first you owe me another orgasm. I want it all over the door this time. And you are in for a world of hurt if this goes south. Do you hear me?”
“Yes, Sir.”
Owen swore when his cock hardened even more. “You owe me for this.”
“I owe you everything, Owen. Because I’m yours.”
“Yes, you are.” And then no more words were spoken, and the love flowed as free as their passion.
“You do realize this is the dumbest thing you’ve ever done, right?” Jack asked as he stood with Owen and Caleb in a swanky penthouse in Portland. Except Jack wasn’t Jack, exactly. He looked like the spitting image of Heather, right down to the Stallbridge green eyes. Even the voice sounded the same. It was uncanny, and not a little bit freaky. And especially weird that only Owen knew Heather wasn’t Heather.
Jack/Heather continued, “I mean, I understand you wanting to kill Ian. But there are easier ways to do it than inviting Kerr into your bedroom.”
Owen glared at her—him. Hell. He did his best to keep Jack’s cover, because they all knew the penthouse had been bugged. That, and Jack didn’t tell just anyone that he could shift shapes. Talk about weird even on the psychic scale. “Just because you’re my sister doesn’t mean I won’t hurt you. In ways you can’t imagine.”
Caleb chuckled at the dark look Jack/Heather gave him. “He’s serious, honey. You have no idea what my boy can do.”
“Your boy is a real Fixer. Yeah, I know,” Jack/Heather said smoothly. With a good deal of respect too.
“Damn. Who the hell doesn’t know who you are?” Caleb bitched.
“Relax. It’s my job to know things.”
At Caleb’s surprised look, Jack/Heather smoothly amended, “Though my big brother doesn’t think I know what he’s done for our country, I do, and I’ve never told anyone.” Meaning Jack knew, but he’d never told Heather.
They stared at each other in silence before Caleb broke the tension. “If you two are gonna kiss and cry, could you do it now? I have things to do.”
“Fuck off, Caleb,” Owen said.
Jack/Heather snorted. “Oh, and by the way, I’m supposed to tell you that Gavin isn’t happy you’re in town, but his boyfriend said to say thanks. And be glad that one is on your side, ’cause he scrambles brains like Bev scrambles eggs.”
Good old Aiden Marshall.
“Nice to know.” Caleb grinned. “So is your boyfriend’s special team here to help? DC is pretty impressed. The last two jobs his guys worked went off without a hitch.”
Jack/Heather nodded. Owen knew Jack had begun doing select work he chose for the government, working closely with Admiral London, a man Owen greatly admired. “Yeah, well, as long as Lonnie is involved, Jack says he’s in. He’s the only government guy my wonderful fiancé will work for. Him or Alicia.” Admiral London’s wife, a woman not quite human.
Owen knew a lot about things he wasn’t cleared to know, and he had no plans on sharing. Though he trusted Caleb, the less Caleb knew about certain things, the better off he’d be. Owen and Jack shared the same thought, apparently, for Heather/Jack’s lips quirked in a grin.
Owen nodded. “Good old Alicia.”
Caleb frowned. “Isn’t she—”
Owen cut him off. “Could we please focus on the fact that my boyfriend is currently sitting on an island off the coast with Carl Kerr, who could be doing any manner of things to him?” “While a dozen men are infiltrating the penthouse as we speak? To include a crazy pyrokinetic, I might add?” he added telepathically.
Owen should have been more worried, but Caleb had assured him Ian was both annoying and healthy. Caleb kept in mental contact, constantly alerting Owen to any changes. This close, Owen could easily kill Kerr. If the bastard would show himself.
Earlier that morning, they’d staged their trip to Portland and had been deliberately separated so Kerr would find it easy to kidnap Ian. Meanwhile, the real Heather remained in Bend far away from Jack, secretly watched over by the PowerUp! team, while Jack, as Heather, pretended to be with Owen, where he could “keep an eye on her.” Personally, it all gave Owen a headache.
Yet it had worked. Ian had been kidnapped, and Owen, Caleb, and Jack/Heather waited in Owen’s penthouse for Kerr’s men to show. Kerr no doubt figured he could divide Owen’s attention by killing not only his lover, but his sister as well.
The smell of smoke filled the outside patio overlooking the Columbia River.
“Here we go,” Owen telepathically said to Caleb. He nodded at Jack/Heather, who nodded back.
“I smell smoke. You two stay here while I check it out,” Caleb ordered and disappeared into the shadows. “If I can take him out, let me. I need you able to focus once we lock on to Kerr.”
“Fine. But do it. I’m itching to act before this goes sour.”
“Relax. Ian is right now charming the pants off some dude named Neever. And…oh good. I think Kerr is finally showing himself. Ian said they entered the caretaker’s cottage on the island.”
Owen took a deep breath and let it out. Time to play his part. “Heather, honey, we need to get out of here. I smell smoke.”
Jack/Heather hugged his arm. “Owen, hurry. I smell it too. The penthouse is on fire!”
The lights went out. Before the explosion Owen had been waiting for, screams sounded. Cries of pain from men Caleb had gutted. Then all sound ceased. Owen had a gun by his side, ready to fire. He and Jack/Heather took cover behind a large couch directly inside the open patio doors. Then Jack/Heather left him to put a hurt on their adversaries. Though Owen couldn’t see what happened next, Caleb gave him a play-by-play, his night-vision goggles a good forethought.
“Yeah. Six of them are down. Jack’s guy Price is slamming them around like toy blocks. Ouch. Another went out.” Keegan Price, Jack’s telekinetic and his cousin’s husband, could crush a car with a thought. Apparently skeletal systems and major organs were nothing compared to a ton of steel.
“Come on, motherfuckers. Put up a fight.” Price’s deep Texan drawl sounded from Owen’s direct right.
He felt movement by his side and stood, coming face-to-face with Mickelson. Uh-oh.
“Well, well. My old buddy, Owen Stallbridge. I heard you’d retired, man.” Mickelson smiled, and his eyes glowed as pinpoints of red flame danced in his hands.
Not good. Owen thought they’d already taken care of him. And then the heat started, and his flesh felt way, way too hot.
Ian had no idea why the chatty guy next to him didn’t blow his own brains out. Annoying, yet easy to manage. Like so many others, he bought Ian’s queen-of-the-keep routine.
“Yeah, boss is going to drill you good, boyfriend.” The talkative Neever chuckled. “He likes ’em pretty. And while he’s doing you, you’ll be on a live feed, so Stallbridge can watch you raped to death. It’s ugly, sure, but the boss is a master at making the pain last.”
“Ew. Hello? Pretty man, sitting right here. No need for your boss to kill me. I can make him happy, I just know it.”