Killer Secrets (48 page)

methodically toward it. Learning that it could be snatched
from him would push him from that edge of

being a loyal American agent, and possibly into rogue.

"I agree with you." And she did.

His jaw tightened. "Then what the hell are you doing
hurting for that son of a bitch? For God's sake,

Kira, don't try to deny it. I saw it in your face, in your
eyes down there."

He pushed himself from the sofa and stalked to the balcony
doors.

"Do you remember Nathan?" he asked her then.
"Do you remember what you saw in that hospital?" He

turned back to her, his body thrumming with fury. "I
saw him when we took him out of that hellhole in

California. Wasted to skin and bones, his eyes crazed, his
mind nearly as destroyed as his body was.

You didn't see that, I did."

"And he's your friend, so you have to avenge it,"
she said.

"I want to avenge it. But even more importantly I want
to make certain it never fucking happens again.

Don't stand in my way on this, don't try to convince me
differently. It won't work."

She wanted to touch him, wanted to ease the tortured fury
from his face, his eyes, but she knew better.

Touching him would mean giving in, and she couldn't give
in. Not just because of her orders, but because

of Ian. He would never forgive himself. He would never be
able to forget that he had been the one to kill

his father, no matter the monster he was.

"Will killing him make the pain go away, Ian? Will it
make the memories stop festering inside you? Or

will it only make them worse?"

"I don't know," he snarled. "You answer that
question first, Kira. Will seeing Sorrell die bring your

parents back? Or Jason's lover and his child? What
satisfaction will you gain from it?"

She didn't flinch. It hurt. Oh yeah, that hurt, because she
knew Sorrell's death would afford her a

measure of security. But she had made peace with the fact
that she might fail years ago.

"Good strike," she said softly. "Sorrell's
death will bring closure to the past, Ian. Not to my hatred.

Nothing will ever change that. But he isn't my father
either."

"Diego isn't my father. He was a sperm donor," he
sneered.

"Your mother loved him once." She was broaching
dangerous territory and she knew it. Territory that

even Diego Fuentes refused to broach.

Ian almost flinched at the memory, his rugged face
tightening once again at the mental slap. She didn't

say it to hurt him, she said it to remind him. To make him
think.

"She was young," he finally said. "She
didn't know what he was."

"And once she learned she didn't hate you. You didn't
pay for Diego's crimes," Kira pointed out. "I'm

not excusing him, Ian, I don't even blame you. But is this
something you really want to remember in the

dead of night? The fact that you took his life?"

"I'll remember it with pleasure." His voice was
strong, certain, but she saw the flicker in his gaze, the

uncertainty. Unfortunately she knew that uncertainty wasn't
strong enough to sway the course he had set

for himself.

Men were stubborn, SEALs especially so. They had the
supreme confidence that they were right, their

decisions logical and without flaws. They were determined,
arrogant, and essentially a pain in the ass to

deal with. It was just her luck to fall in love with one.

She stared back at him, aching for him, and in some ways
aching for Diego as well. They were both

strong men, but Ian's strength was based on his honor, and
Diego's was based within a world that his son

could only see as evil.

"Did you drag me up here to argue over Diego?"
Kira asked him when she couldn't come up with a

single damned argument to save Diego's life. Not one. The
man had built his entire life on watching others

suffer, watching and using the suffering for his own ends.

"I dragged you up here to ask you exactly where your
loyalties lie. Diego and Sorrell are going to die,

Kira. If you have a problem with that, then you better
speak up now. You don't want to stand in my way

later."

Tension pulled at them both. Kira could feel it, she could
almost see it pulsing in the air between them.

"My loyalty is with you, Ian," she told him
simply. And it was true.

His gaze locked with hers, his intent, burning with an
inner rage as his gaze probed hers, searching for a

weakness, or a lie. She wasn't certain which at this point.

Finally, he nodded quickly. "I need to make contact
with the team, make certain everything's ready to

go."

Kira clenched her hands inside her pockets as she turned
away from him and paced into the bedroom

while he made his phone call. She needed a few moments to
repair her control, to center herself and to

grieve.

Ian was never going to forgive her when she was forced to
stand between him and Diego. She was

going to lose him, and the thought of that was destroying
her from the inside out.

IAN COULDN'T DISPEL THE TENSIONgrowing in his gut as Kira
moved from the sitting room and

into the bedroom. He pulled the secured cell phone from the
clip on his belt and hit the speed dial to

Macey's phone while he watched her. Watched her and
wondered how the hell she could feel any

compassion, any pity, for the bastard that had destroyed so
many lives.

"Gotcha," Macey answered, his voice low.
"Everything's secured. You?"

"Awaiting contact. Any additional info?" Reno and
Clint had still been questioning Tehya when Ian and

Kira left just before dawn.

"We have a few suspects based on the deaths of her
guardians, locations, and sites where they first

disappeared. I've managed to put together some profiles
from the information she's given us. She really

knew more than she thought she did after we started piecing
everything together. I've narrowed it down

to about half a dozen men and I'm running some profiles
based on lineage, physical characteristics that

she might share with him, and various other parameters. I
gotta tell you though, if one of these dudes is

our guy, then we were right all along. Social and political
connections, old money, royal blood, and plenty

to protect. He's not going to come in easy."

The battle to identify the terrorist had been ongoing for
years. Quantico had come up with a profile two

years before, but no suspects. It wasn't a relief to hear
that the profilers had been right.

"Have you been able to trace the cell phone hers is
programmed to?"

"Nada. Secured. No trace, no how. Maybe we'll get
luckier once we put the call through this afternoon

but I doubt he'll stay on long enough to get a trace,"
Macey answered.

"Who are our suspects?" Ian asked then.

His brows lifted at the three names Macey gave him. He
hadn't been joking when he said this could turn

into a mess. All three men could trace their roots back to
French and English aristocracy. All three came

from old money that totaled in the millions, perhaps more,
and enjoyed worldwide respect. If one of them

was Sorrell, then it was no damned wonder he had managed to
evade them for so long.

"We've almost managed to tie all three men, in one way
or the other, to Ascarti. There's even a bit of

rumor that I managed to uncover that Ascarti is one of the
men's bastard son. I'd almost bet my money

on that," Macey finished.

Hell, it sounded like a good bet to him.

Ian checked his watch for the time. He sure as hell didn't
want to give anyone time to trace his own call.

"Good going, Macey. I'll check back later." He
disconnected the phone before inhaling roughly and

glancing at the door where Kira had disappeared into the
bedroom.

He moved to the doorway, an edge of remorse biting into
him. He had come down hard on her and he

knew it. His fury at the thought of Diego working her
emotions, her loyalties, strained his control.

"We have suspects." He stopped and watched her,
as she checked her weapon and placed extra ammo

in the pockets of her jacket.

Her eyes narrowed at his statement. Moving her jacket aside
she shoved the gun back into the holster

and moved to her feet.

"Who are they?"

"Erick Randolph, Jordan Lorraine, Marco Alloran. All
three men are connected to Ascarti as well."

Her brows lifted. "Old-money names," she
murmured. "I've met all three. Jason and I have actually

discussed one of those men. Lorraine. He's secretive,
sometimes reclusive, and was investigated once

regarding a plot uncovered to overthrow Jacques Chirac
while he was in office, but they couldn't make it

stick. Still, that's a long way from white slavery and
terrorism."

"It's the best we have at the moment," he said.
"The birthmark will tie it in, but it will sure as hell help to

have an idea of what we're looking at here."

"You're looking at a man with a God complex." She
shook her head before pushing her fingers through

her hair and gathering it quickly into a long ponytail.
"A paranoid man. A man who believes the world has

been corrupted almost to the point of no repair and that
women are chattel rather than deserving of their

freedom. That fits all three men, but Lorraine most of all.
He's an arrogant son of a bitch. He refused to

deal with Jason's law firm on an account several years ago
when Jason sent me to oversee some details.

He had to send a
man
," she sneered.
"Self-righteous prig."

He heard the anger in her voice. Sorrell had been behind
the bombing that had killed her parents and

Jason's fiancée. Because of one man, she had lost most of
her family.

Like him, she had spent her life searching for a way to
bring down one man. She knew the pain, the

horror, of fear and the knowledge that monsters existed.

"Percentage of Lorraine's involvement versus the other
two?" he asked.

She inhaled briefly as she checked the ponytail with a
quick swipe of her hands and then lowered them

to brace them on her hips. Her brow creased, and Ian was
treated to the utter delight of watching the

agent work. He could see her mind turning over percentages
and possibilities, working to fit what she

knew against each man.

"I doubt it's Randolph." She shook her head.
"He's a hedonist, doesn't care a bit to show his nudity, and

he's in pretty good shape for his age. I saw him on a beach
in France one year, he doesn't have a

birthmark unless he knows how to cover it up. And he was
very hairy. Doing a cosmetic coverup would

have been virtually impossible. Besides, Sorrell wouldn't
be caught dead naked. That would be a private

thing for him."

"You saw Randolph naked?" Something like jealousy
clenched inside him. Possessiveness. He did not

want her seeing other men naked.

"Several times." She shrugged as though it were
of little consequence. "It was a nudist beach."

"And you were nude?" he gritted out.

Her brow lifted. "Pretty much. And you're not going to
make any completely irrational remarks either,

are you? Because we both know those little submissive
lovers you took from the fringe clubs in Atlanta

weren't exactly for a platonic relationship."

He felt his lip want to curl on a snarl and barely held it
back. He might have to kill Randolph whether he

was involved or not if he had seen Kira naked.

"Get over it, Ian." She shook her head
impatiently, though a smile tugged at her lips. "I promise, it was

before I met you."

That didn't help.

"What about Alloran?" he asked. He had to get his
mind off her being on a nudist beach.