Zoey Avenger (Incubatti Series Book 2) (23 page)

“Unless we provide a distraction,” Zoey said, meeting her gaze. “Another EMP will knock out the Sucubatti comms systems.”

“Grant was not happy about the last one,” Chrissy said, blushing. “It took out everything in and around DC.”

“That’s amazing,” Zoey said, smiling. “What did you use the second time when you came to rescue me?”

“We didn’t use shit,” Vikki replied. “We had help.”

“Help?” Zoey’s memory of the incident was foggy and what little she recalled after Olivia shot her up with shit, she instantly discredited.

“There was a man in a mask.” Even Vikki appeared unconvinced. “He had hand grenade EMP thing. Took out the facility and nothing else.”

“Mine are a little rudimentary,” Chrissy admitted.

“Dude, what you did is no joke,” Zoey said. “Be proud of that shit. Can you make one smaller?”

“Zoey, I don’t even have tools. I can’t do anything.”

“So we need a man in a mask.” Zoey tried not to smile. “I mean, a mask? Anyone else think that sounds ridiculous?”

“It is,” Vikki agreed. “Someone with a weird sense of humor.”

“Kind of odd, but it’s not the first time I’ve heard that,” Zoey continued. “Aiden said there was someone in a mask who followed him when we had our little scuffle. You don’t think …”

“Declan?” Vikki finished and shook her head. “Last person on the planet to put on a mask let alone get his hands dirty.”

Zoey said nothing aloud, aware there was still bad blood lingering between Vikki and Declan.

“This guy carried weapons. Lots of them.”

“Yeah. The Enforcer boys don’t do weapons,” Zoey said.

“You think Grant?”

Vikki shrugged. “Timing makes sense.”

“Hey, need a minute with V.” Zoey stepped to the door and waved her best friend over.

Chrissy’s attention returned to her laptop.

Zoey stepped out onto the porch, the early summer night cool and laden with the flavorful scent of the Atlantic. The outlines of three pup tents were visible between the cabin and the wood line. The faint traces of Halflings were in the air.

“You okay?” Vikki asked her.

“I think so. A little slow.” Zoey grimaced and rolled her shoulders back. “You said something before you left the compound. About Declan.”

“I figured you’d ask.” Vikki was quiet for a moment. “I didn’t believe it when Liam told me. I assumed he was covering for his brother. I’d lie for you, so I figured he was, too. But then I confronted Declan ...”

Zoey waited with baited breath, heart fluttering at his name again.

“He’s really hard to read, but I believe them,” Vikki finished. “Don’t hate me.”

“I’d never hate you.” Zoey considered the revelation, unable to explain Declan’s behavior, if what Vikki said was true.

“I don’t think they always know what to do. I think the soul-mating thing took them as much by surprise as it did us,” Vikki continued. “They act all macho and shit but they’re just as lost as we are. At least, in talking to Liam, that’s the impression I get.”

“Why didn’t you tell him about your news?” Zoey asked curiously.

“You know, it didn’t come up.”

“Didn’t come up.” Zoey eyed her friend.

“We talked about it theoretically.” Vikki shrugged. “Did not go well. So I didn’t bring it up.”

“Probably for the best.” Zoey didn’t want to think of how Declan would handle such news. “If I survive the next few weeks, we can raise your baby together.”

“Better be a girl. We can train her to fight and kick everyone’s ass. We are so much cooler than incubuses.”

“Totes.”

“So. Distraction. What’s your plan?”

Zoey considered. “Turn over the mission to take over the lab to Tiff and Lydia. You, Gin and me take off these things and dare our lovely soul-mates to come get us. One in DC, one in Maryland, one in Virginia with enough distance between us that it’ll take effort and them splitting up to get us.”

“Station everyone else at the lab and let them take over, with Chrissy’s last EMP bomb.”

“Yep.”

“Good plan. One question.” Vikki said and faced her. “Are the three of us who are decoys supposed to get caught?”

“I’d say run,” Zoey returned. “Bet we can give Chrissy a solid twenty four hours before someone figures it out.”

“Just one thing,” Chrissy said from behind them.

They turned.

“I need a sample of both the toxin the antitoxin. Pure samples. From an incubus.”

Zoey glanced past her at the Professor and then quickly turned her thoughts away. She’d never risk his life, especially not to save her own. “How much?”

“Enough to run a bunch of tests on.”

“Do you need a live incubus or just want us to stab one in the right place with a needle?” Vikki asked.

“Either way. I’ll work with whatever I can get.”

“Where is this gland?” Zoey asked.

“Toxin is under the jawbone and antitoxin at the base of the skull.”

“I can bring you someone’s head,” Vikki offered.

“If you must.” Chrissy frowned.

“I’ll do it,” Zoey said. “I’m already wanted for murdering an incubus, a succubus and kidnapping a super incubus. I’m used to rap sheets, and I need the antitoxin most.”

“Okay. Now, I’ve gotta go read some books about genetic engineering.” Chrissy left them at the door and returned to her iPad. She pulled on headphones.

“She’s pretty amazing,” Zoey murmured.

“Yeah but don’t tell her that.” Vikki laughed. “Speaking of tough love, you thinking of bringing in Declan’s head?”

“Haven’t decided. Depends on how it goes when I see him.”

“So you aren’t running.”

“I need to know what happened with Heidi,” Zoey said quietly. “And why he didn’t try to tell me he’s innocent. I also need to know if he’s going to kill me or cut our funding for kidnapping his father.”

“Great. You get DC. I’ll go to Maryland and tell Gin to head to Virginia.” Vikki checked her watch. “It’s ten. Shall we give the order for a one o’clock attack on the lab?”

“Sounds good.” She gave Vikki a bear hug. “Be careful.”

“You, too. I’m tired of losing you. We gotta fix this once and for all.”

Zoey said nothing, aware her priority was the team. Once Chrissy had the samples, Zoey intended to give the order to fix the Halflings first.

But first, she needed the truth from Declan. Unable to process the idea he’d let her believe he was guilty for so long, she nonetheless feared the heartache of widening the wound that would never heal. With less than three weeks remaining with her mind, she at least knew the pain wasn’t going to last long.

“Ready?” Vikki was watching her.

“More or less.” Zoey said. “Good luck to both of us.”

Chapter Seventeen: Zoey and Declan

At precisely one in the morning, Zoey took off the band for ten seconds and replaced it. She turned on the light to the kitchen, gaze lingering on the stovetop. Declan had made her an omelet there once, and the memory was unusually poignant.

Everything about his apartment touched her in a way that made her want to crawl out of her skin and cry somewhere. She forced herself to walk though it and paused to the floor-to-ceiling windows of the penthouse overlooking the city. His place was spotless, the hum of the air conditioning almost indiscernible, the décor simple and modern.

His dark vanilla scent lingered in the air, a smell that made her body roar to life. It was faint, as if he hadn’t been here in a long time, though it grew stronger when she approached the closed door to his bedroom.

Zoey’s hands were clammy at the idea of stepping inside the peaceful room, the place where she’d become his soul-mate only to lose him to another woman. Her emotions grew rawer the longer she stood so close to the bed symbolizing what they were supposed to be.

Agitated, turned on, sad, she stepped away and went instead to the couch, swinging her legs over the back and sitting with her feet on the cushions. She’d made an attempt to rehearse what she wanted to say to him on the way there, too aware her strength was reacting, not planning.

“Declan, I’m only here to ask one question. That’s it,” she whispered the words with what conviction she could muster. The wall she tried to put around her emotions was crumbling.

This was not a normal mission, and it felt like the hardest thing she’d done in her life.

While she didn’t hear him enter, she sensed him the moment he set foot in his apartment, his presence like a warm breeze on a fall day. Zoey breathed in his scent and caught herself, refocusing.

“You can’t be here,” Declan’s low, husky voice reached her across the room and slid through her.

The words she wanted to say stuck in her throat. Instead she watched him move from the entrance to the doorway between the foyer and living area. His eyes were whiskey colored in the light of the kitchen, his lean, relaxed frame and steady gaze showing no sign of the discomfort she experienced.

She’d always been mesmerized, if not envious, of his presence and the natural command he always held over everything around him. He made leadership, diplomacy and control appear effortless. It was in his expression, his eyes, the way he moved. He wore a well-tailored suit and jacket with complementing tie.

He paused in the doorway, as if waiting for her to speak.

Zoey tapped the band on her wrist to ensure she still wore it. He was strong enough that it couldn’t completely dampen his influence.

“I need something,” she began.

“The money wasn’t enough?” An edge entered his tone.

She eyed him. “You’re the one who offered a blank check. No one made you do what you did.”

He unbuttoned his suit and peeled off the jacket, the man she knew intimately remaining hidden behind the professional, frosty mask of the Chief Enforcer. He tossed the jacket on the back of the designer chair near the couch, followed by his tie.

Zoey’s gaze lingered on the triangle of golden skin visible above the top button of his crisp, white shirt.

“What do you want?” he asked, his voice soft and cold.

“Fuck you, too, Declan.” Any hope she had of wanting Vikki to be right fizzled. Innocent men weren’t dicks. Her agitation melted into anger, and Zoey stepped off the couch, passing him on her way to the door.

 I’d rather take off the head of an incubus.

“Why do you need an incubus’s head?” he asked.

“Careful, Declan or I’ll make it yours!”

“You walk into my apartment with weapons and wonder why I’m not happy with you.”

Rule number one. She’d never forgotten, but the reminder of the incubus rules for their soul-mates had the opposite effect. Rather than set her weapons aside the way he always insisted she did, Zoey drew one and whirled, flinging a knife at him.

It grazed his white shirt and buried itself into the wall beside him.

Declan didn’t even flinch, infuriating her more.

“What about rules two through four?” she snapped. “No lying. No cheating. No letting anything come between us? Fuck rule number one, Declan. Don’t like it? Go fuck another succubus.”

“You follow rule one, or we don’t talk.” Declan pried the knife loose from the wall. “I didn’t invite you here, and I doubt you’d seek me out if you had an alternative. So, put your shit down.”

“Or what?” For the billionth time, Zoey had the sensation of beating her head against the wall. It was a familiar, albeit unwanted feeling, one she’d experienced from the minute she realized she was neither a human nor a normal Halfling. “Because this says you can’t do shit to me.” She held up her forearm and tugged down her sleeve to show him the band.

Declan tested the knife. He flipped it over to grip its blade, almost like he knew how to use it.

Bristling, Zoey whirled and reached for the doorknob, her anger bubbling out of control. She had been close to hyperventilating at the thought of confronting him and infuriated by his cold, condescending reception.

Something pinched her arm a split second before the band dropped to her feet with a soft thunk. She jerked, glancing down. The knife stuck out of the band’s gray rubber, its placement too perfect to be an accident. The tip of the blade had gone through the small lock that kept it on her wrist.

“Wait a minute,” she said, kneeling beside it. “I thought you incubuses didn’t know how to use weapons.”

“Just because we don’t use them doesn’t mean we don’t know how,” he replied.

Zoey retrieved her knife but left the band. The blade had severed the lock; it was useless if she couldn’t clasp it around her. A warning bell went off in the back of her mind.

“Rule one, Zoey.”

She rose, somewhat comforted that her back was to the door, even if she knew she’d never have time to leave, if he didn’t want her to. This Declan – the powerful enforcer – had always scared her.

He was watching her, impossible to read, with a glimmer of fire lighting up his whiskey hued eyes.