Cover Fire (Valiant Knox) Read online

  She recoiled slightly, as if she was shocked by her own admission.

  Some of his irritation at her drained away. Yeah, he kind of got the curiosity thing, except he was totally stumped by her. Mostly by his own fascination with her. In the past, he would have walked away from a woman who looked like her without a second thought. But things about Jenna didn’t add up, and he couldn’t deny he wanted to know the hows and whys.

  He scuffed a hand over his hair, scalp prickling as the weird urge to open up to her ambushed him. Glancing at the cobwebbed roof, he couldn’t believe he was going with the impulse to actually talk about anything.

  “It was my best friend. We met as FP trainees, and—I don’t know. You know how there are some people you just click with, like you’ve been friends forever, even though you just met five minutes ago? That was me and Lawler. They started making jokes in the squadron about us being the dynamic duo, called us Rayler instead of addressing us separately. Ten years he was like my other half. Turned out the whole thing was a big freaking lie—he was a damned CSS mole. Betrayed the squadron and UEF.” Even saying the words left a bitter taste in the back of his throat, just like the day he’d found out, when his then-CO, Captain Leigh Alphin, had told him Lawler had been caught. That had resulted in Seb spending a good ten minutes in the head throwing up until his guts had ached. The shock had been that physical.

  “And he betrayed you,” Jenna concluded in a low voice.

  He grabbed a breath before looking at her. “Yeah. It kicked me in the guts, that’s for sure. But that wasn’t the worst of it. Who knows how many fighter pilots and UEF soldiers he was directly and indirectly responsible for getting killed?”

  “I’m sorry that happened to you, Seb.” The words were sincere, once again clashing with the fakeness of her outward appearance.

  He slouched down against the wall, more than happy to be done with that little chitchat session. “Shit happens in combat, right? I’m not the only one who’s been screwed by this godforsaken war.”

  The sudden drone of multiple ships stopped Jenna from replying, not that he wanted or needed to hear any empty platitudes from her. She shifted to the window with the scope once again, leaving him relieved that she wasn’t staring at him with those too-intelligent jade green eyes anymore. Why the hell had he said anything to her? It wasn’t like he owed her any explanation for the way he dealt with life day to day. So what had prompted him to spill his guts to some chick he wasn’t ever going to see again?

  Maybe that was it. The knowledge that he wasn’t going to see her again made it easy and complication-free to get stuff off his chest that had been sitting for too long like a boulder.

  “The ships are leaving the area. Looks like they’re giving up the search,” she reported. “We’ll give it half an hour just to be sure, and then move out.”

  Half an hour and he could tell Ms Kickass good-bye, and maybe next time CI came to him with a mission, he’d give it more than half a second’s thought before agreeing to sign on.

  Chapter Four

  Jenna surveyed what she could see of the now-empty crash site. The CSS had to have left at least one soldier behind—it was logical procedure. Yet she hadn’t seen any movement since the ships had left over half an hour ago. She didn’t like variables, and this didn’t make sense. However, she couldn’t spend the rest of her life sitting in this tree house with Sebastian Rayne. She was already a few hours behind, and had a meeting to make in the city tonight.

  Besides, as time had stretched on, she’d become more and more aware of their close proximity, how his leg brushed up against her every now and then, how she couldn’t escape the warm, masculine scent of him, how broad shouldered and larger than life he seemed in the cramped space. She was definitely ready to be out of here.

  “Let’s move out, but take it slowly and keep your guard up.” She slipped the scope into her tattered jacket.

  She pulled some of the branches out of the doorway, easier than carefully moving them aside, since they didn’t need the cover any longer. Once on the ground, she headed straight for the river, taking a quick drink while she surveyed the surrounds.

  “Now what?” Seb asked, stopping a few steps behind her.

  “Now we follow the river upstream until we get well clear of the crashed shuttle, then we go our separate ways.”

  He didn’t reply, but cast a short glance around, too, before setting off. He hadn’t said much since he’d told her about his friend who’d turned out to be a CSS mole. The good-time charm had disappeared, and while she wouldn’t exactly say he was brooding, he did seem worn down. Like the war had started diminishing that spark of amusement at the world he worked so hard to keep up.

  With a cursory check of her surroundings that was more habit than need, she set off after Seb, keeping half her attention on the tight set of his shoulders ahead of her.

  She couldn’t imagine how much it would hurt, learning someone so trusted was actually the enemy. Her current extended assignment—to find any and all information pertaining to possible traitors serving in the UEF—had come about in light of several people, like Seb’s friend, uncovered after a number of inside attacks on board the Valiant Knox.

  On a big-picture scale, she knew exactly how much those traitors were costing the UEF in this war. On a personal level, she hadn’t experienced that price firsthand until today, until she’d seen the shadows in Seb’s gaze as he confessed the recent trauma.

  Truthfully, she hadn’t thought about how these things affected people, as it hadn’t been relevant to her. But now, for some reason, even though she only knew the basics about the sub-lieutenant, what had happened to him made her assignment that much more vital, made it imperative that she retrieve the information and get it into the right hands.

  Neither of them tried to make conversation as they picked their way over rocks, heading upstream. The late afternoon shadows were lengthening into the long cast of slanted evening light. Once it got dark, it would be much safer to travel without worrying about being seen.

  “Is it easier being CI?” Seb asked suddenly from in front of her, breaking the lengthy silence.

  She took a few quick steps to catch up with him so they weren’t yelling at each other. “Is what easier?”

  “This. The war, facing the enemy.” He shoved his hands into his pants pockets. “Though, I suppose that’s the point. You don’t actually face anyone. You just creep around in the shadows.”

  Maybe she should have been annoyed at the dig, but since the revelation about his friend, his cavalier words didn’t bother her. Probably because she knew exactly what was behind them.

  “I’ve faced plenty of the enemy, believe me. Thinking of a career change?”

  The look he shot he was all kinds of hell no. “Pretty sure a stick jockey like me isn’t cut out for anything remotely subterfuge based. I like the enemy to see me coming, usually screaming right up in their faces with a dirty payload to unleash.”

  “That’s one way of doing things,” she mumbled, negotiating a slippery rock.

  “I was just curious, that’s all. You keep to yourself, right? Don’t make friends, don’t have ties. That’s how you guys operate?”

  “Yep, that’s how we roll.” A brush-off comment to cover the truth his questions exposed. His completely accurate description of her situation left her feeling uneasy, like there was a trap set to fall into and she just couldn’t see it.

  But no such ambush was forthcoming, just Seb muttering, “Yeah that’d have to be easier.”

  “Not really,” she blurted out, with no idea where the truth had come from or why.

  He glanced back at her, questions written all over his face.

  She stopped walking, finding herself in this weird place where she wanted to be honest with him. Like, brutally honest. Like, more honest than she’d been with anyone since the day she’d signed her name to a CI document, pretty much giving away her life and donning a permanent disguise. It’d been so many years sin
ce she’d seen her own face in the mirror, she was a little hazy on the details of exactly what it looked like.

  “I mean, yeah, it’s easier to not worry about being vulnerable because you’re emotionally tied to someone. But it also makes it impossible to trust anyone, ever.”

  Seb took a few slow steps back to where she’d halted in her tracks. His closer proximity left a slight shiver tracking through her.

  “Do you want to trust someone?” he asked in a low voice.

  She stared up at him, afraid to answer, which seemed ridiculous after all the danger she’d faced in the past few years. Scared of a few measly words? But honestly, it wasn’t so much the words, as the stark truth behind them.

  “There’s been a time or two I could have used someone at my back.”

  “That’s not what I asked.”

  Yeah, she knew that. She studied his features, taking in the perfect, hard angles of his face, those stupidly kissable lips, and intense amber gaze. Was it simply his looks causing her body to have some idiotic, hormone-driven response that made her want to go all therapist-hour and share things she’d never let herself consider before, let alone speak aloud? Or had she finally—and without fanfare—reached some kind of burnout stage that left her questioning her life choices?

  Either way, Sebastian Rayne had gotten under her skin in a few short hours. And instead of freaking her out like it should if her brain was operating on sensible logic, it only left her more intrigued by him.

  But this wasn’t about trust. This was about convenience. What did it matter what she told him when she would never see him again after they went their separate ways?

  …

  Seb didn’t think Ms. Kickass would give him a straight answer no matter which way he came at her, but those too-honest eyes seemed to mesh with her appearance even less now as she stared back at him, not moving, and not answering his question.

  She didn’t need to put anything into words, he could see in it her naked gaze.

  Some instinct, some drive sent him forward without conscious thought, bringing him closer to her until a scant inch separated them.

  “You can talk to me.”

  Hell, he didn’t know what he was offering. Hadn’t he been telling himself earlier in the tree house they wouldn’t see each other again after today? So what exactly did he think was happening here? Like she’d call him up once she got back from her assignment and tell him all about her classified adventures, so CI could wipe him from existence for knowing too much?

  It was those damn eyes. No matter what her face said, those eyes told him something different. Something he couldn’t ignore. Something that made him want to—

  Hell, he was not going there, wasn’t even going to finish the idea. But he didn’t have to, because his mind had already shot off in senseless directions, providing him with a visual on exactly how that little train of thought would have ended—with his mouth devouring hers and his hands all over that lithe body.

  Which was no doubt why he ended up facedown on the ground, eating dirt and snorting leaves ’cause of dumb distraction. He kicked into a roll, putting himself on his back as his hand went to his skull where something had impacted. Leaving him bleeding. Freaking great.

  Above him, Jenna was in a gun-stare-down with a young CS Solider nervously cutting glances between the two of them.

  The guy—couldn’t have been more than eighteen—reached for a radio, an ancient one on a wire attached to his belt, but Jenna squeezed off a single round from her electromag pulse and exploded the plastic receiver into tiny pieces.

  “Don’t move,” she ordered, her voice lean and mean like a pauper before payday. “Seb, you okay?

  She didn’t take her eyes off the CS Soldier, but held a hand out to help him up.

  “Got my bell rung, but I’m conscious, so there’s that.” He accepted her firm grip and got to his feet, impressed with himself when he only swayed the one time. But he felt the blood track down the back of his skull. Damned if he probably didn’t need a couple of stitches. The kid swung his old-fashioned rifle back and forth between them, and Seb went still keeping his hands well away from his body in case the guy thought he was going for his weapon.

  Jenna, on the other hand, didn’t seem fazed by the kid waving the gun around like a flag on parade day.

  “Are you alone, or do you have a partner lurking around here somewhere?” she asked, as he raised the nozzle of his gun back to her.

  “My patrol will be back—”

  “So that would be alone.” Jenna launched into a lighting fast half-spin kick thing and knocked the gun out of the guy’s hand. Seb dove for it, getting a grip on the weapon before it’d barely touched the leaf litter.

  “Now what?” he asked, turning the clunky weapon toward the soldier, who’d literally started shaking in his boots.

  “Kill him and keep moving. I’m already running behind schedule.”

  “Wait, what?” He took his eyes off the young man, gaze crashing into the unyielding pose she’d struck, apparently ready to rid the universe of one more dumb farm boy masquerading as a soldier because he didn’t know any better.

  “He knows we’re here. If we leave him alive, he’ll tell his patrol and then before we know it, we’ll have an entire contingent of CS Soldiers hunting us. You want to get back to the ship alive, right? And I don’t have time to evade a search party.”

  “I am not going to stand here and watch you shoot some kid in cold blood.”

  “Then don’t watch. Walk away.” She cut him an impatient glare, eyes narrow and gaze ice-cold as though she didn’t have a single emotion in her soul.

  Had he been thinking just a few minutes ago that there was something more to her than the killer-babe frozen-queen agent he’d first met? How freaking wrong he’d been.

  “We’re wasting time. If you’re going, you better turn around now.”

  “No, ma’am,” he returned in a hard voice, catching a glance toward the kid, who’d sunk to his knees, all but cowering in the dirt. “I’m not going to let you kill him and that’s final.”

  But Jenna wasn’t paying attention to him. Her gaze had shifted to scan the surrounding forest. “There’s someone coming.”

  He looked around, but couldn’t get a clue what had given her that idea. “I don’t hear—”

  She shushed him, holding up her left hand and flicking her fingers off to the right before holding two fingers up. Two hostiles, right of their position. He nodded, skirting around Jenna and heading into the trees, straining to hear any noises and surveying the dappled light for any sign of movement.

  He’d gone maybe a hundred feet when something caught his eye. He crouched behind a trunk, going still, waiting for whoever it was to reveal themselves. The figures emerged from a nearby thicket, but they weren’t hostiles.

  No, they were goddamned deer.

  As he blew out a relieved breath that it hadn’t been another patrol sneaking up on them, the crack of a single shot sounded through the forest. It jerked through his whole body like he was the one who’d taken the ammo, the sudden noise startling the animals and sending them fleeing.

  Jenna. Damn it. Had she gone and shot that kid while he’d been on this not-a-patrol hunt? He shoved to his feet, running back the way he’d come, but she met him halfway, expression resolute, her steps tight and hard, like she was pissed about something.

  “Did you shoot him?”

  She sent him an impatient look, as if that’d been a dumb question. “Come on, we’re losing daylight.”

  His guts pinched and she turned away. He stalked after her through the trees, hating himself with every step he took. Technically, she’d been right—the kid’s knowledge of them made their situation even more dangerous. And he’d made the poor life choice to put on the CSS uniform, he had to live with the consequences—or not live in this case.

  But Seb’s conscience was laying the boot in hard, telling him he was an idiot because her suspicions about the “hostiles” h
ad probably been a trick to distract him while she took the easy way out for them.

  No big deal for her; she probably randomly killed people all the time. In fact, it was probably in the CI handbook. Kill the enemy no matter their station or innocence.

  Did she really not care about wasting some almost-innocent teenager?

  Actually, nix that. He didn’t want to know what was going on in that crazy-hot-chick brain of hers. He just wanted this little jaunt to be over and never, ever have to deal with CI of the likes of her ever again.

  The woods thinned out and they hit a road—if the narrow, wheel-rutted dirt track could be called that.

  “Keep going that way. You’ll find a barn.”

  “Where are you going?” He didn’t know why he asked, since the whole shooting people in cold blood thing had effectively killed any affinity they’d developed.

  She motioned vaguely to the woods-and-more-woods on the other side of the road. “Due west to the city. I have a meet to make in a few hours.”

  He sent her a casual salute. “Good luck with that. And try not to kill half the population between here and there.” Turning, he started to head in the direction she’d pointed out the barn, but a solid shove in the middle of his back sent him to a stumbling stop.

  “Screw you,” Jenna spat as he spun back to look at her. “How many teenagers do you think you’ve killed in your fighter jet? Other pilots you’ve shot down. Bombs you’ve dropped on cities. You think my hands are bloody? You’re swimming in it.”

  A cutting kind of rage raked up his insides and left him sweating. “The CSS only send select older and experienced soldiers up in their pathetic excuses for ships. And the only bombs I’ve dropped have been on specific, designated military targets, no civilian—”

  She scoffed, adding an eye roll for extra insult. “Don’t feed me the lines about designated military targets. I’m fully aware what kind of targets you’re given. I’ve fed a few of them down the line myself. You really think no civilians were hurt? That no fresh-off-the-farm kids who’d slapped on their uniform five minutes ago didn’t get buried in rubble under your so-called military targets?”