Protective Measures

“Jason of the Argonauts stole a golden fleece,” Zoe said.

“Got it. Based on my intel, the guy skulking around the gardens is Prometheus. He’s really big with broad shoulders. Imagine a bull in a jumpsuit.”

“You hate being stuck in the van, don’t you?” she asked.

“At least Theresa’s happy I’m keeping out of danger.” He laughed. “Just wait until I tell her she missed hearing you flirt with the great Commander Darius.”

“We weren’t flirting.” She felt herself blush. Maybe the good-looking commander had taken her breath away, just a little. But Leo was a valiant and decorated national hero. She was just a bodyguard. Not to mention, he was also a devoted father. And she’d always suspected she wasn’t cut out for motherhood, even before a doctor had confirmed she’d never be able to have children of her own.

A man like him wouldn’t be drawn to a woman like her.

“Next time we have a mission like this, you can wear the fancy clothes and I’ll stick to blue jeans,” she added. She took one last glance back at the balcony. It was empty. Leo hadn’t come after her. But at least he hadn’t blown her cover. A long, thin braided belt skimmed the waist of her gown. She looped her fingers through it and with a quick tug, her long skirt pleated neatly into a knee-length tunic. She had matching athletic shorts on underneath. Ta-da. Bit of Samantha’s creative tailoring and she’d just gone from gown to something she could actually move around in.

“Is he as handsome in person as the media makes him out to be?” Alex asked.

She rolled her eyes and ignored his teasing.

A life in competitive sports, not to mention a string of unrequited teenage crushes, had taught her pretty quickly that there were two kinds of guys in the world. Those who viewed her as equal and were happy to fight alongside her, but saw her as nothing more than one of the guys. And those who saw her as a “girl.” They were an even bigger problem. Something about her threatened them, she supposed. All she knew was that too many of them had the urge to cut her down to size. A sly word here, a crude gesture there, the occasional demeaning comment when nobody was looking, day after day, from creep after creep, until she’d eventually snapped when she was fifteen, spun around and elbowed the offending guy in the face, not even registering that the camera was rolling. That had been the end of her competing internationally. Now that creep, Killian Lynch, was a famous face in the spotlight and she slunk in the shadows.

“You okay?” Alex asked. It was impossible to hide anything from him.

“Yeah, I’m fine.” She paused. The path ahead curved into a bridge over an ornamental pond. She started toward it. “But I saw Killian Lynch.”

The fist seemed to shoot out of nowhere as a black-clad figure leaped from the darkness. His arm swung toward Zoe’s face, giving her just seconds to dodge the blow as it flew inches from her jaw. She spun toward her attacker. Alex hadn’t been exaggerating—the man was huge, with a flat face that looked like it had been in too many fights. Her hands rose as years of competitive training coursed like adrenaline in her veins. But she barely had a second to catch her breath before a knife flashed in the moonlight.

“Found Prometheus!” She leaped back again as the blade swung inches away from her stomach. “He’s got a knife.”

“Do you need backup?”

“I might.” Her attacker slashed again. This time she ducked under the blade, then with a quick flick of her wrists snapped the knife from his fingers. She heard it clatter in the darkness. Prometheus kicked the legs out from under her. She stumbled. Her stiletto heel snagged on the cobblestone. She pitched into a protective front roll, a sinking sensation filling her stomach as she felt the path disappear beneath her. She tumbled into the flower pond. Muddy water engulfed her body. She scrambled out again. Prometheus was gone.

“I lost him.” She yanked off her stilettos. Nonsense like this was why she hated working in fancy clothes. Her bare feet ran quickly and silently down the path. A utility door was open on her right. “Found an open door. He must be inside. He won’t get far.”

She slipped through the door. Air-conditioning raised goose bumps on her skin. She was in a historical gallery of some sort with flat glass cases and the eerie blue glow of dim emergency lights. “I’m going to keep trailing him. Okay, Alex... Alex?”

Silence from her earpiece. No typing. No static. No buzz.

No Alex.

Her earpiece must’ve shorted out when she hit the water. Help me, Lord. I’m on my own. Footsteps echoed in the distance. She sprinted through the hall and into another almost identical one, just in time to see the black-clad figure dart into a side door. The door slammed behind him. She yanked the knob. It was locked.

Nah, he wasn’t getting away that easily. She pulled a bobby pin from her hair, snapped it in half and went to work picking the lock. Beyond the door she could hear the clatter of things falling over and furniture being moved. Sounded like he was tossing the place. She whispered a prayer and focused on the lock. Then the floorboards creaked behind her. She spun. Her hands rose to strike. But a strong hand intercepted her blow, catching her small hand in his, and holding it firmly before she could pull it back.

“Nice punch.” It was Leo.

“Nice block.” She blinked and looked up at the tall, handsome uniformed officer. “What are you doing here?”

“I ran down the back stairs.”

“Now where’s the fun in that?” The words slipped out of her lips before she’d stopped to think.

He chuckled. It was a deep, warm laugh that seemed to rumble from somewhere inside his chest. Heat was rising to her face again, and it didn’t help that he still hadn’t let go of her hand. “Well, after your rather dramatic exit, I went straight to the head of security and told him I thought I’d heard a bullet fired in the castle gardens. I then asked him point-blank if there was an intruder on the grounds. Do you know what he told me? He said all I’d heard was a car backfiring, not to worry and I should get back to the party.” Leo took a step back and pulled his hand from hers. “Then I spoke to a high-ranking police officer, who I casually know, and asked if he’d ever heard of The Anemoi. He laughed very loudly and told me The Anemoi was a myth.”

Zoe’s heart sank.

His hand slid into his jacket pocket and pulled out a cell phone. “Then, I sent a quick text to my old friend Josh Rhodes, even though I knew full well that he’s on his honeymoon, and asked him if he’d ever even heard of you. You can imagine how I felt when he texted back immediately, ‘She’s one of ours. Believe whatever she tells you. Do whatever she says.’”

A smile of relief brushed Zoe’s lips. Was it her imagination or was the air between them growing warmer? Leo took another step back. Then, for the first time, his gaze seemed to take her all in. His eyebrows rose. “What happened to you?”

“I found the intruder that security told you doesn’t exist,” she said. “He had a knife. We fought. I disarmed him. But he knocked me into a pond. Then he ran through that door.”

He reached past her for the door handle. Then winced. “It’s hot. Stand back.”

She stood back. He leveled one strong kick at the door that sent it flying back off its hinges.

She turned. Sudden white-hot fear shot up her spine.

The room was on fire.

TWO

Heat hit Leo’s body like a wave. Flames climbed the curtains of the coat-check room and spread out across the ceiling. Coats burned. Briefcases and laptop bags buckled in the heat. Dark smoke billowed toward them. His heart stopped. Every single piece of paper or electronic data that had been left in that room was being reduced to ashes. If the thief had stolen something, the fire would probably destroy any possibility of figuring out what it was. Had the thieves Zoe had been tracking either stolen or destroyed the intel he was after?

If so, the implications of what that could mean were positively terrifying. Leo had made one other phone call on his rapid descent down the stairs to the one person inside the navy he trusted, his superior, Admiral Jacobs. Jacobs hadn’t answered, and the last voice mail message he’d left for Leo hadn’t changed. The informant said they would be at the party. Their identity was still unknown, but Leo was authorized to wire them up to a quarter of a million dollars if the intel proved true. He glanced at the ceiling. “No sprinklers and no fire alarm.”

“There’s a fire extinguisher on the other side of the cloakroom.” Zoe’s voice came from behind him.

“It’s too late for that. We have to evacuate the building.” Wrapping his jacket around his hand, Leo grabbed the handle and yanked the door closed. “This fire door should help contain it long enough to evacuate. But we won’t have long. Get out of the building. Get a safe distance away, then call 9-1-1.”

Leo pressed his cell phone into her hand. She took it. Then her eyes closed for a fraction of a second and he watched as a prayer moved on her lips. Then she looked up at him. Fear was creeping in the edges of her eyes, but it did nothing to dim the determination burning within them. She gave him a push. “I’m on it. Just go. I’m right behind you!”

He ran through the hall, into a second almost identical one, and then burst through another door into the lobby. The English actor Nigel was standing by the front desk talking to an elderly security guard. They both looked up.

“The coat-check room is on fire,” Leo said. “Sprinklers aren’t working. We need to evacuate the building. I’ll get the ballroom. You clear the staff and the main floor. Now!”

He pelted up the winding staircase to the second-floor ballroom without waiting for a response. He hit the second-floor ballroom. Well-dressed people packed the room. Waitstaff weaved between them. His eyes scanned the room in an instant, trying to access the best way to evacuate without causing a panic. The last thing he wanted was to cause a stampede.

“Emergency services are on their way!” Zoe ran past him barefoot, like a tiny bolt of lightning. “Alex is trying to get the sprinklers back online. There’s a small lounge and balcony upstairs. I’ll go evacuate them while you sort out down here.”

She disappeared up a second smaller set of stairs. His head shook. That woman was unbelievable. He’d told her to escape the building and instead she was running right into danger. He strode across the floor to the stage and up to the podium, feeling the old, familiar authority with which he’d commanded battleships slipping around him like a mantle. He reached the microphone and tapped it twice. No sound. But, one glance at the man behind the sound board and it sprang to life.

“Ladies and gentlemen, your attention, please.” His voice filled the room. “Sorry to interrupt the party, but there is a small contained fire in a separate section of the building downstairs. Emergency services are on their way. What I need you to do is to just calmly walk downstairs and wait outside on the grass, so they can come in here and do their jobs.” Voices began to babble. Questions rose around him. He raised his hand. “We can all talk outside. But right now, I need you to exit the building. Quickly and quietly. Go.”

The babbling grew louder. But he also caught the eyes of a handful of men and women, who he could tell at a glance had also served their country and community in one way or another and knew how to handle a crisis. They started ushering those around them toward the staircase. Guests started filing down the stairs. People in kitchen uniforms and waitstaff poured out side doors. Still others streamed down from the floor above. The hall began to clear. He breathed a sigh of relief and a prayer of thanksgiving. The fire door wouldn’t hold forever. But he had hope the building would clear before the fire spread. He walked back to the stairs and positioned himself on the landing to direct traffic, until finally the trickle of people heading out the doors stopped.

But where was Zoe?

He started back across the now empty ballroom to the stairs he’d seen her run up. The smell of smoke grew heavier in the air. Then he saw a waiter—tall and thin with long blond hair and goatee—kneeling on something behind the stage.

“Hey!” Leo ran toward him. “You need to get out of here!”

The waiter didn’t move. Instead he grabbed a phone from his pocket and took a picture of whatever was on the floor.

“This isn’t a drill.” Leo grabbed the man’s shoulder. “The building’s on fire!”

The waiter leaped up and wrenched his shoulder away from Leo’s grasp. Then he spun toward Leo and through the smoky air Leo could barely make out the shape of something long and black in his hand. The waiter lunged toward him. A knife? A gun? A Taser? Leo had only seconds to react as he knocked it free from the man’s hand. It was a thick black marker. And for the first time Leo saw what he had been kneeling on. It was the banner of him and his girls. Ugly black marker lines crossed the canvas, slashing the picture in between Leo and his daughters, and severing the connection between his hand and Eve’s.

“What do you want?” Leo demanded. “Who started the fire? What’s the meaning of this?”

A scream split the smoke-filled air. It was Zoe. The sound of fear and pain that ripped from her lungs seemed to tear his own chest in two. The waiter slithered away and pelted for the stairs.

“Zoe! Hang on, I’m coming!” Leo ran across the ballroom and up the narrow flight of stairs that led up to the third floor. A woman was tearing down the stairs toward him. It was a waitress in black pants and a crisp black shirt. Long, unnaturally bright red hair fell over her shoulders. He barely managed to stop as she nearly collided with him. “What happened? Why is my friend screaming?”

The waitress’s violet eyes widened. But she shoved past him and ran down the stairs without answering.

“Leo! Help!” Zoe was calling his name. His heart wrenched toward the sound.

“Hold on, I’m coming!” Leo bolted up the narrow staircase to the top floor. It was small, with slanted ceilings and doors in all directions. He followed the sound of her voice, burst through another door and ended up outside on a patio. Humid air surrounded him. But it was the faint cloud of pepper still hanging in the air that made his eyes sting and his heart ache. “Zoe? Where are you?”

“I’m here!” A sob choked in her voice. He glanced around. A coffee cart had been knocked over. Broken dishes littered the ground. Then he saw her. Zoe was curled in a ball against the low wall. He dropped to his knees beside her.

“A waitress pepper-sprayed me.” Thick tears streamed down Zoe’s face. “I can’t see a thing.”

* * *

Leo’s blurred shape floated before her stinging eyes. Zoe blinked rapidly, trying to wash away the pain. “I cleared the place out, but this one waitress just wouldn’t leave.”

“Did she have red hair?” he asked. “Purple eyes?”

“Wig and colored contacts, yeah,” she said. A fit of coughing overtook her lungs. The burn of the pepper spray seared in her throat. Fresh tears blurred her vision.

“Hey,” Leo said softly. “It’s going to be okay. We’re going to sort your eyes and get you out of here safely. I promise.”

She felt his hands brush the sides of her face. He tucked her hair behind her ears.

“Wow, you really did take the blast full on, didn’t you?” He whistled softly under his breath. “I’ve seen men four times your size fall apart from way lighter blasts than that.”

She could tell he was trying to make her feel better. Somehow it helped.

“I shouldn’t have tried to force her to leave,” she said. “It was clear she was up to something. Alex told me The Anemoi crew had a woman on it. Her handle is Pandora. It was probably her. I don’t know why I didn’t just leave her and then run.”

“Because that’s not who you are. Even I know that.” He pulled a white handkerchief from his breast pocket and drenched it in milk from the coffee tray. Gently, he placed the handkerchief against her stinging skin. She almost gasped in relief. “Hold this to your face. It’ll help until we can flush your eyes out with water. Now, I’m going to pick you up and carry you out of here.”

Her chin raised. “I can walk.”

“You’ll bump into things.”

“Not if you guide me.”

He took her other hand and helped her to her feet. She followed him back into the building. Heavy smoke filled her senses. Then she felt him stop. She dropped the handkerchief from her eyes but saw nothing but a wall of gray.

“Can’t take the stairs, the fire’s spread to the second floor,” Leo said. Then she heard him pray for guidance.

“We’ll have to jump and aim for the river,” Zoe said. “It’s pretty deep. But there’s a stone walkway and a wrought iron fence between us and it.”

“How far out is it?” he asked.

“Six feet maybe,” she said. “I can jump it.”

“Not without your eyes,” he said. “Sorry, but I think we’re going to have to make this jump together.”

He swept her up into his arms. Then she felt him run, pelting out across the patio. The sizzle of the fire echoed behind them. The wail of distant sirens filled the air.

Help us, Lord. Please, help us.

She felt him take a step up onto the balcony railing. He leaped and they were airborne. They fell through the air. Her head pressed against his chest. His strong arms locked around her. She took a breath and prepared to hit the water. But then suddenly something jerked them backward. Then she felt him throw her forward, launching her out of his arms. Her body smacked the water. She went under and opened her eyes but saw nothing but the green-gray wall of murky water. She kicked hard and swam for the surface, blinking rapidly as she felt the sting of the pepper spray flush from her eyes. Chaos reigned around her. The castle was a wall of flame casting the scene in an eerie red glow. Sirens wailed closer. People crowded around the fence, yelling, pointing, and it took her a breath to realize she was what they were looking at.

“Leo? Where are you?” Desperately her blurry gaze scanned the surface of the water. Where was he? Why had he thrown her like that? Then she saw the segment of fence had caved in and broken off. Jagged spikes of what remained jutted out over the water. His torn jacket hung like a rag from one of the barbed points. She swam toward it. Ash and debris rained down around her. Panic filled her core.

Lord, where was he? Please, may he be okay.

Then she saw the air bubbles streaming up from beneath her. She gasped a deep breath and dove under again, feeling for him through the darkness. Thick seaweed grabbed at her body. Her lungs ached for breath. Then she felt him, thrashing in the water beneath her, caught on a portion of fallen fence. She reached for him but was almost flung back by the force of his arm. She gritted her teeth and swam forward again.

It’s okay. I’ve got your back, Commander. Let me help you. Her fingers felt for his arm. Then she felt his hand grab hers and squeeze. She yanked the knife from her leg holster and pressed it into his palm. He took it. She swam upward, praying with each stroke to feel him following her. She broke through the water and gasped for air. Leo surfaced beside her.

“Thank you!” He gulped a deep breath. Water streamed down the strong lines of his jaw. “You saved my life.”

“You saved mine.” Then she heard the rumble of debris rushing down toward them. He yanked her into his arms and sheltered her body with his as the flaming balcony caved in toward them.

THREE

It was like swimming through a minefield in a hurricane. Thick smoke filled the air. The heat was like a shimmering wave in the darkness. Falling bricks and rock crashed down around them, churning the water and threatening to crush them alive. But in the midst of it all she felt Leo’s strong arm around her, sheltering her from the crumbling building as it collapsed in flames and rubble around them. Zoe swam upstream, her strong legs kicking for her life against the current, only vaguely aware of the voices yelling somewhere beyond her in the chaos. They cleared the debris, but kept swimming, upstream, letting the crowd and fire fade behind them.

The air cleared. Then Leo stopped swimming, took her hand and pulled her into a bay. Rock rose sheer and high beside them. She tried to stand, but the tips of her toes barely brushed the bottom.

“Are you okay?” he asked.

She nodded, treading water. “Yeah, I’m okay. You?”

“Yep.” He slid her utility knife back into her hand. “Thank you for coming after me. I was good and stuck there for a moment.”

She took the knife and traded him for his cell phone, hoping for his sake it was waterproof. Behind them the fire raged, lights from what looked like an endless stream of emergency vehicles flashed and spun, and silhouettes of people crowded the shoreline.

“We should go,” she said. Her eyes searched the rock for handholds. “I have to find Alex and I imagine a lot of people will be looking for you.”

“Hang on.” He reached for her hand. “Just one second. We need to talk.”

Here and now? In a river?

“Okay,” she said. “But let’s get out of the water first and talk on the dry land. It’s so deep, I can’t even stand here.”

But instead, he pulled her closer until she was standing on her tiptoes on top of his boots.

“You’re right, people will be looking for us,” Leo said. His hand slid around her back, holding her firm, even as she could feel the current beating against their bodies. “But we need to talk alone, without an audience, and the moment I get to shore I’ll be swamped by people again. So please, quickly, tell me everything you know about The Anemoi.”

The intensity in his voice rattled something inside her. There was an urgency there that she hadn’t heard before. Had he been The Anemoi’s target? Did he know something about The Anemoi or the fire that he wasn’t telling her? She could feel his hand on the small of her back and the strength of his arms under her fingers. This man had saved her life. She had saved his. Yet, he was still virtually a stranger and she was still on a mission.

“Okay,” she said. “I’ll give you five minutes, but then I’m climbing out of this river. Also, I’m talking to you off the record. None of this goes to the press. None of this gets repeated as gossip. Okay? I’m trusting you here.”

“Yeah, I got it,” he said. “I’m good at keeping secrets and I can’t abide gossip. You can trust me.”

She took a deep breath and hoped that was true.

“Two months ago, a client contacted us saying his identity had been stolen and his bank accounts emptied,” Zoe said. “Police had no leads. We said we’d look into it, but honestly didn’t expect to find much. We’re a private security firm, not detectives. Then, three weeks later someone else called us claiming to be the victim of a grand conspiracy to ruin his reputation.”

“And you saw a connection?” Leo asked.

“Samantha did,” Zoe said. “She’s brilliant when it comes to online research and making connections. She started digging into something called the Dark Web and building these info charts, before finally hitting on The Anemoi. Basically, they’re a bunch of loosely connected crooks that steal very important things for people, for a very high price. They tend to go by handles from Greek mythology. Like, the guy who attacked me with the knife calls himself Prometheus after the Titan who stole fire from Olympus. In their twisted minds they’re convinced they’re the good guys, righting wrongs and wrecking lives they think deserve to be destroyed.”

Leo blew out a long breath. She waited. When he didn’t say anything more, she kept going.

“I get how ridiculous it probably sounds,” she said, “that there are these people, who are fooling themselves into thinking they’re some kind of heroes when they’re really just criminals being paid a whole lot of money to utterly ruin people’s lives.”

“In my experience most criminals tend to be pretty delusional and think that they’re justified,” Leo said. “Nobody wants to believe they’re the bad guy.”