The excitement I felt, the fire in my veins, the heat. That hadn’t gone away, not one bit. If anything, it had only gotten hotter and stronger the more I got to know her.
Then there was the way I felt about Mason. Holding him, feeding him, I’d never experienced that sort of emotion before. I wanted to take care of him, to protect him above all other things. I’d only ever felt that way about my squad before, but never to that intense a degree.
“Yes,” I said. “I’m too close.”
Travis nodded. “I’ll relay that.”
“Have you seen anything tonight?” I asked him, changing the subject.
“Maybe,” he said. “Can’t be sure. Saw some strange car movement a few hours back, but nothing since.”
“What happened?”
“Two cars, one white and one black, driving around the area. Could have been lost people. Could have been The Network scouting. Can’t be sure.”
“Omar?”
“Haven’t seen or smelled him.”
I nodded. “Got it. Keep an eye out.”
“Roger, captain.”
Travis melted back into the shadows and disappeared.
I held my position for another minute, my mind wandering slowly. Strange cars, threats in the night. I was too close to this, too damn close to this, and yet Blackfire thought it was the right call to keep me involved.
“Fucking hell,” I said as I disengaged myself from the shadows and headed back toward the safe house.
Everything was quiet as I moved down the alley and jumped over the back wall. I landed on my toes without making a sound, crouching down and scouting out the yard.
Everything looked fine. I moved across the backyard and stopped at the back door, reaching into my pocket for the keys.
As I grabbed the handle, the door pushed open. It gave to the slightest pressure.
Instantly I entered battle mode. My heartrate jumped but my breathing slowed, and I felt completely calm. My training took over and I began to asses the situation.
The back door was open. There was no way Tara had opened it, which meant someone had broken in. There was no sign that the door had been forced, and so I could reasonably conclude that whoever was inside was trained to open doors silently, even doors with a bunch of solid locks.
I slipped my knife from the sheath on my thigh and made sure that the silencer was on my pistol. Softly, I pushed open the door.
The kitchen was empty. Like a shadow, I drifted into the space, moving along the counters, stepping silently. I pressed up against the far wall and edged toward the doorway.
I looked into the living room and spotted him. One man stood near the front door, a submachine gun in his hands. I counted at least ten paces from here to there, and so I sheathed my knife and pulled out my gun.
It only took two shots, one to his skull and one to his chest. He toppled to the ground, blood pooling around his motionless body.
I moved into the room fast, staying low. I stopped against the far wall and listened.
Nothing. No movements. No sound.
I kicked the man’s corpse. He was wearing a black ski mask and a combat vest. The vest had absorbed my second shot, but the first was enough to put him down.
It was The Network, no doubt about it. There weren’t any burglars in the whole city that had combat clothing like this guy had, not to mention the weapon, some serious firepower.
I pressed myself up against the stairwell wall and began slowly moving up toward the second floor, my gun held out and ready. I heard something up there, possibly someone trying to turn a doorknob, but I wasn’t positive. I moved a step faster and slowly came up around the corner.
Standing outside Tara’s room was a second man, also wearing a ski mask and dressed in combat armor. As I prepared my shot, he whirled on me, swinging his weapon like a club.
I pulled the trigger, but he caught my hands, knocking my gun away. The bullet bit into the ceiling harmlessly, showering the man in dust. He came at me, swinging his gun around to try and get a shot, but I moved too fast. I twisted right, stepped into the hall, and kicked his wrists, twisting them and sending the gun clattering.
He came at me fast, his fists moving through the air, swinging at my face. He was strong and clearly a good fighter, and I fell back, giving us more room. I ducked a blow and blocked a kick before stepping in and punching his gut once, twice. He stepped back, not phased, as his armor had absorbed the blows. He came down at my skull with his fists, smashing into my neck, sending me stumbling back.
He followed that with more vicious blows, heavy fists swinging at my body. I blocked and fell back farther, trying to put space between us. Eventually I pressed up against a closed door as he came at me, fighting hard.
I ducked and twisted, skirting along the wall. I landed a weak left to his neck, but it was enough to make him stumble back. I shoved past him, putting some space between us, and pulled my knife.
He came at me again, but I had the advantage now. I swiped at him, keeping him back. He growled as he launched himself at me, but I was too fast. I cut him quick on his shoulder and back, shoving him aside. I kneed him in the chest and he came up at me with a grunt, trying to head-butt my nose.
I twisted and drove my knife deep into his neck. He tried to hit me, but his strength was fading fast. He struggled, but I pulled out the knife and cut him again, opening his throat.
He fell to the ground, blood pooling around him.
Instantly I fell into a crouch, looking around, but the house was silent. If there was anybody else in the place, they would definitely have heard.
I took a deep breath, the overwhelming excitement coursing through my veins slowly beginning to fade. During that fight, my life on the line, I’d felt so alive, so powerful and free. My only goal had been to survive and to defeat my opponent, and I thrived on that shit.
I sheathed my blood-covered knife, retrieved my gun, slipped it back into my belt, and knocked on Tara’s door.
Inside, I could hear someone moving. Mason was crying, and I realized he must have been crying this whole time and I hadn’t even noticed in the excitement.
“It’s me,” I said. “It’s Emory.”
Slowly I heard the door unlock and then push open. “Emory?”
“It’s done,” I said. “They’re gone.”
“It was them, wasn’t it?”
“Yeah,” I said. “Bastards must have caught us when we were out. I thought we were so careful.”
Her face dropped. “Emory, I’m so sorry.”
I wasn’t thinking. I just took her and pulled her against me, kissing her hard. She didn’t resist or struggle, just kissed me back.
This was what I fucking wanted. Fighting and fucking Tara were the two things I was best at, and I couldn’t want anything else in the world at that moment.
Finally, I pulled away. “It’s not your fault,” I said, “but we have to leave.”
“When?”
“Now,” I said. “Who knows when they’ll send more men. I’m guessing this was just supposed to be a scouting party.”
“Okay. Let me pack.”
I watched her gather her stuff and then moved into my own room to grab my bag. I was already packed and ready to go, since I was trained to always be prepared. I helped Tara finish up and then I called up Travis.
“We’re leaving,” I told him. “Come grab us.”