Holding Out For A Hero: SEALs, Soldiers, Spies, Cops, FBI Agents and Rangers (75 page)

“If you want to get back into law enforcement—”

“No.” Eve shook her head. “I want to do what I can—all I can—to stop chemical weapons from getting into the hands of terrorists.”

“Eve.” Burke tightened his grip on her hand. “Baby, what happened with Richard wasn’t your fault. I didn’t see Lanski for what he was.”

“I know I’m not to blame for what Richard did. This isn’t about that. Well,” she shook her head, “not entirely. I can’t say I would have come to this realization if not for Richard’s involvement in this plot. But it’s what I want, John. It feels right.”

She held Burke’s gaze for a long moment, then he nodded.

* * *

The next morning Eve followed Burke into a conference room used by the Shadow Agency, the covert team of operatives specializing in chemical weapons terrorism led by Burke. The Shadow Agency headquarters was in a secure location known to only the handful of people now assembled in this room.

The other men and women glanced up and fell silent as she took a place at the front of the room beside Burke.

“I’d like to introduce Dr. Eve Collins,” Burke said. “Eve has joined our team. Eve, meet Agents Lisa Portland, Dylan Armstrong, and Luke Falco.”

Eve nodded to each agent in turn then took a seat in the remaining unoccupied chair.

Burke reached up and lowered a white board from the ceiling. “Team,” he said. “We have another assignment.”

—The End—

About the Author

Karen Fenech

USA TODAY
BESTSELLING AUTHOR KAREN FENECH writes romantic suspense, short works of suspense and erotic romance. She is the author of the bestselling romantic suspense series, The Protectors. As of this writing, the first four books and one novella in the series are available: Book 1: IMPOSTER; Book 2: SNOWBOUND; Book 3: PURSUED; Book 4: HIDE; Novella: CAUGHT. Karen's novels and short suspense fiction have received critical acclaim. Her novels have been translated into several languages and have been released in audio by her publisher. When Karen's not writing or spending time with her family, she loves to shop, watch movies, and just kick back in a comfortable chair and read. If you enjoyed IMPOSTER and would like to know when Karen Fenech's next novel is released, sign up for her notification-only news
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Also Available at Amazon in The Protectors Series From Karen Fenech:

SNOWBOUND
: The Protectors Series – Book Two

PURSUED
: The Protectors Series – Book Three

THERE’S A NEW WITCH IN TOWN

by Tawny Weber

There’s a New Witch in Town: Chapter One

In the grand scheme of life, was slipping Viagra into your husband’s dinner
really
that bad of a thing?

Mikaela Davenport stared at the promise of sexual satisfaction in her hand and debated for all of thirty seconds. Then, groaning, she heaved a sigh and shoved the little blue pill into the pocket of her jeans. Damn her upbringing and all those rules about non-manipulation and karma.

No matter how much easier it’d be, sneak attacks wouldn’t fix things. Nope, her marriage problems would require actual conversation. Dialogue. Confrontation. She shuddered. She hated confrontation. Almost as much as her husband, Perry, hated conversation.

Miki looked around the kitchen, proof positive of her recent failure to hold her own in discussions with Perry. Streamlined and sleek, it was—according to the most exclusive decorator in Santa Monica—a chef’s dream. Too bad it wasn’t Miki’s dream. The day before she’d had to forcibly restrain herself from splashing marinara across the stark black, white, and chrome décor just to add a little pizzazz.

Ignoring her brewing headache, she focused on the glaze gently bubbling on the stove, its sweet scent melding with the rich aroma of a perfectly baked ham and cheesy potatoes au gratin.

Ha! She tossed the spoon in the stainless-steel sink, the satisfying clang echoing loudly in the cold sterility of the kitchen. At least this was something she was good at. Nobody could ever accuse her of needing Viagra for her cooking.

“What is that revolting smell? Are you offering some helpless animal up for a sacrificial dinner?”

Miki gasped and spun around, her hand pressed against her frantically beating heart.

“God, Ryan. Don’t you ever knock?” She glared at the raven-haired, muscle-bound, wanna-be stud standing in her kitchen doorway. Tall and lean, he epitomized Southern California. But, unlike the rest of the hot studs in Santa Monica, Ryan wasn’t just sexy, sleek, and self-absorbed. He was also a witch.

“At my sister’s house? Why should I?” Ryan sneered, an Elvis-like tweak of the lip Miki knew he’d practiced hours to master.

“Maybe because Perry abhors people just popping into his house whenever they feel the urge.” She winced to hear her husband’s stuffy words coming out of her mouth. It drove Perry crazy that his fancy security gate didn’t work against Miki’s family. Of course, since he was oblivious to the magical blood running through her ‘wacky relatives,’ the man couldn’t know that a top level, voice recognition security gate was pretty ineffective.

Ryan rolled his eyes at her reprimand. The same bottomless black as her own, his were lined with the lushest lashes she’d seen outside a mascara commercial. Appropriate, since he was a total girly boy, despite his horndog appetites. She watched him grab a persimmon from the bowl on the marble countertop. With a suspicious look he rubbed it against the stark-white fabric of his muscle tank, then bit into it with a loud crunch.

“I still can’t believe you hooked up with that stuffed shirt. It’s bad enough he’s a mortal, but he’s a boring one at that. You could have had your pick, Miki. Why him?”

Used to Ryan’s disdain for mortals, Miki ignored the question. Unlike most magical families, the Lansings prided themselves on their pure blood. Miki was the first in her family to marry a mundane. In keeping with magical law, she’d had to choose between abdicating her powers for her marriage, or having her husband-to-be swear acceptance of her magic to her parents. To her family’s disgust, Miki hadn’t even told Perry she was a witch, instead choosing to willingly abdicate.

“So what’s the deal?” Ryan asked around his mouthful of fruit. “What are you doing?”

“As you so pleasantly pointed out,” Miki sniffed, pulling the large roasting pan out of the eye-level oven, “I’m making dinner.”

She pressed her index finger against the meat. Perfect. She drizzled the glaze over the ham and put it back in the oven, then turned to glare up at her little brother. He didn’t have to say a word, she could feel those nasty little judgmental thoughts all the way across the kitchen.

“Give it a rest. Ham is Perry’s favorite meal. Why shouldn’t I make it for him?”

“Oh, I don’t know. Maybe because you don’t like it. Or maybe because it’s stupid for you to be cooking today. You should be doing something special for yourself.”

“This is special. I love to cook, which is why I make my living at it. And I’m making something my husband enjoys. What’s wrong with that?”

“It’s
your
birthday,” Ryan growled. “You shouldn’t be the one cooking the damned food. And if you insist on it, why can’t you at least make your favorites instead of his? Just like this kitchen. You cook in it, but he chooses the décor. Jeez, Mik, this sucks. It’s bad enough that you chose the mortal life. But a mortal, boring, unappreciated life? How was that worth giving up your powers?”

It was worth it because she’d been a mediocre witch at best. And in a family of extraordinaires, it was honestly easier to be different than average. Not that she’d ever confess that fact.

“Perry didn’t choose the décor, the decorator did. This design is in keeping with the architecture and will add to the resale value a lot more than the wild ideas I had.”

Her brother snorted and rolled his eyes again. Miki sighed. After seven years, she should be used to the rift between her husband and her relatives. She felt like she spent most of her time placating or soothing one side or the other, while each used the excuse that they were only thinking of her. Dammit, she was sick of straddling the line. Another thing to add to the conversation agenda this evening—healing the rift.

Right after the stagnant wasteland that was her marriage bed. It had been so long, she couldn’t even shop for produce without getting ideas. She believed in making marriage work, unlike her parents, who thought marriage was as disposable as socks; if one got a hole, they tossed it out and found a new one. Miki wasn’t giving hers up without a fight.

“Did you come by to bitch about what I’m making for dinner, or did you have other complaints to lodge too?” She arched a brow clearly suggesting where she thought he should lodge them.

She was tired of trying to justify her choices, including her marriage. Tired of everyone figuring they knew what was best for Mikaela. For once, she was doing what she wanted. Including cooking a romantic, candlelit dinner for two at home instead of primping for the night out on the town Perry had planned.

“I came to say happy birthday,” Ryan said slowly, his brown eyes drooping like a kicked puppy. Guilt slashed through her, as she knew it was supposed to. Then he held out his hand, and in a sparkle of glittering blue flames, a very flat, foil wrapped gift appeared, just a little worse for wear. With a wiggle of his brows, he held the box, silvery smoke still wafting around the edges, in front of her face and grinned. “And to bring you this.”

Irritation forgotten, Miki eyed the shimmery teal package and bit her lip to hold back her giggle.

“Oh, pressies. What is it?”

“Apologize first.”

“Nope. You were a jerk.”

“A jerk?” Ryan splayed his empty hand to his chest and gave her a look of wide-eyed innocence.

Miki snorted. “You know you were, now give over.”

“Hmm, maybe not. Mom said to make sure you were in a good mood first.”

“Then why’d she send you as the delivery boy?”

“Because I’m her only son. Her pride and joy. Who else would drop everything to be here with you? And she knows I’m the life of any party.”

“So she couldn’t reach Lena?” Miki asked, referring to their older sister.

“Yup.”

With a laugh and a quick hug, he gave up the gift. She made short work of the glittery paper to get to the slightly crushed box.

“Promises?” Miki asked, peering at colorful strips of cardstock in the box.

“Look and see.”

She lifted the two tightly wrapped scrolls. In true Lansing fashion, they were homemade gift certificates, promising a gift of time from one sibling to the other. Miki read the magenta one first.
Good for one Birthday Forecast, complete with Tarot Reading, Astrological Report, and Karmic Prediction.

“Awesome. I’ve been begging Lena for a reading for the last couple months but she kept putting me off.”

Anticipation buzzing through her, Miki grinned and snagged the next scroll, this one a rich purple.
A complete day of pampering, including skin, hair, and nails.

“Aw, Ryan. Thank you.” She knew how special this was, since Ryan rarely offered pampering type gifts now that he’d made his mark in show biz. His gift was insight, the ability to see to the heart of a person. With that and a little glamour magic, he could bring out beauty in a troll. Nobody made a woman look better than Ryan Lansing. According to his bragging, that was because nobody appreciated women the way he did. Miki figured it had more to do with his fascination with beauty products, since he owned tons of them.

“Now we can fix that mop of yours. A little style, a little oomph. Maybe some deep-tissue massage to bring color back to your winter complexion. I’ll even toss in a makeover, although I hadn’t intended to.”

“Mop?” Miki fingered the silky strands of her jet black hair with a scowl. “I pay good money for this style.”

“Yeah, I’m sure you do. But does the stylist ever look at you? All that heavy hair hanging down your back is too much for your features. You need something more... kicky, more fun.”

Miki wasn’t about to admit she’d grown it out to please Perry, who thought women looked more elegant and appealing with long hair. She used to be kicky and fun. Wasn’t she anymore?

Had she really become bland?

What a rotten birthday discovery. She swallowed the heaviness in her throat and gave her brother a half-smile.

“Thanks. I’ll take you up on it later this week, huh? Maybe just a trim though, I don’t want to go short.”