Agent E2: Aidan (Superhero Romance) (The D.I.R.E. Agency) Page 2

  Aidan lowered the phone to glare at Tristan. “I swear, Jacobs…”

  “Bring it, man.” Tristan watched Robinson work. “It would take you and every army on earth to keep me away from Rachel.”

  Aidan couldn’t find fault in Tristan, knowing how much he loved her. The fact that he worked for D.I.R.E. gnawed at his gut, but considering who her father was, Aidan felt comfortable knowing Tristan would be around to look after her.

  Mitchell came to study Robinson’s work. “Tristan, I take it Rachel’s finally resting?”

  Tristan nodded. “Yeah, she finally accepted a sleeping pill from one of the doctors. She’s sleeping in the room next door. I offered to take her home for a while, but she knew I needed to stay close by.”

  Pressing the voice-texting app, Aidan held up Dar’s phone to his mouth. “Meet me at Willie’s Bar at two o’clock. Alone.”

  Aidan stared at the phone, waiting for a response. When none came after three minutes, he stared at Mitchell, then Tristan. “She’s suspicious.”

  Mitchell crossed his arms over his chest. “If she’s smart, she would be.”

  Ding. Call me.

  Aidan spoke into the phone. “I can’t. Not safe.”

  Mitchell and Tristan stared at him.

  Ding. Wear the shirt I bought you for your birthday.

  Aidan winced.

  Tristan hopped down from the bed. “What did she say?”

  “Wear the shirt I bought you for your birthday.”

  Mitchell gave a cocked brow. “She’s definitely Robert’s daughter.”

  Aidan held up the phone to his mouth again. “I didn’t bring it.”

  “Okay, Tristan,” Robinson said, “I want you to cloak and teleport separately.”

  While Tristan tested his powers, Aidan waited for Cassandra to respond. What if the shirt was one of Dar’s favorites? What if she didn’t even buy him a shirt for his birthday?

  Dammit. This was a bad idea.

  Ding. C u there. Luv u.

  Aidan pulled back his head. Luv u? For some reason, he never pictured the Naylor family using that word. Didn’t they walk around with loaded guns and cigarettes hanging out of their mouths, like in the movies?

  Her use of those words made Aidan see Cassandra Naylor in a different light. She was a woman that loved her brother. Just like Rachel loved him. Hell, she was Rachel’s sister. They had to be alike to some extent.

  He shook his head as if to clear it. Hell, what was he saying? She was an experienced agent. Had been sired by the Robert Naylor, for gripes sake.

  The Naylors were the enemy.

  Aidan needed to keep her on that side of the line.

  Chapter 2

  Aidan sat in the shadows of the windowless, neighborhood bar, half hidden behind the old jukebox and big John Walters sitting across the table. A country song about a sexy tractor played low in the background, the usual, elderly retirees scattered around him, talking sports and politics.

  Wearing one of Dar’s striped, polo shirts, Tristan sat at a table by himself in the far corner, his back to the door. With his hair tucked into the shirt collar, he could pull off Dar Naylor pretty well in a dark room.

  One D.I.R.E. agent sat behind the bar with Aidan’s old high school buddy, David Saldana, and his dog, Loki. Another stood at the dartboard, throwing darts. The old, Veterans of Foreign Wars crowd had been excited to play a part in Aidan’s attempt to nab one of the bad guys that had brought danger to their little town.

  Of course, Aidan did promise a round of beers on him.

  Although his text had told Cassandra to come alone, Aidan knew she would bring company. He also knew that Dar wouldn’t expect her to arrive alone, either.

  Under normal circumstances, public places ensured virtual safety. However, in this case, Cassandra didn’t know that the old men that frequented Willie’s had really kicked some ass in past wars.

  The door opened, rushing extreme heat into the otherwise chilly room. A tall, thin man wearing a blazer and jeans walked in and looked around.

  He had to be Naylor Interests. No one from these parts wore a blazer in the summer. Besides, Aidan knew just about everyone else in town. The man sat down at the bar and ordered a beer.

  Aidan figured if he remained inside, Cassandra knew the coast was clear.

  Tristan had fooled him.

  A few minutes later, Cassandra Naylor walked in like she owned the place, smiling at David like they were old friends. She wore denim shorts that made her legs look a kilometer long, a low-cut, white t-shirt that hugged her full breasts like a koozie, and high-heel tennis shoes.

  Damn, the woman was hot.

  Based on David’s slow perusal of her body, he thought so, too.

  She’s a Naylor, remember?

  Pushing up her sunglasses on top of her head, Cassandra looked around the dark bar. Aidan sunk down in his chair, pulling his baseball cap lower on his forehead with his gloved hand.

  A small smile lit her face when she spotted Tristan. Once she headed his way, Aidan sat up, ready to run.

  Another Naylor agent walked in and stood just inside the door.

  Damn. He’d hoped this would be easy.

  “It’s about to get interesting boys.”

  The men at his table nodded without ceasing conversation.

  Cassandra walked over to Tristan’s table with long-legged strides. When she came parallel to him, she looked at Tristan’s profile.

  He turned. Her eyes widened. She whipped around, blonde waves flying behind her. Tristan clamp down on her forearm.

  Swinging around, she head-butted him once, twice. Releasing her arm, Tristan stood, his look incredulous.

  One of the Naylor agents fired his gun at Tristan. He dove under the table, along with everyone else in the place. Loki barked from behind the bar. D.I.R.E. Agent Gonzales pulled his gun on the Naylor men just as D.I.R.E. Agent Young pointed his gun at them, too.

  Cassandra ran for the back door, knocking down David when he blocked her path. Tristan took chase, Aidan following. Hitting the bright sunlight, she paused a second before running around the side of the building. Tristan and Aidan split up, chasing her to the front parking lot. The woman could run, even in heels.

  He and Tristan met in the front just as she jumped into the driver’s seat of a dark sedan. Starting it up, she gunned it just as Aidan reached the car. Slamming down his hands on the hood, he unleashed electricity through his gloves, the veins glowing bright copper. Bolts of lightning streaked through the hood and the surrounding air, arcing and zapping around him. Cassandra pushed back in the seat, her eyes wide like saucers.

  The car died in seconds, smoke billowing from under the hood. Rushing around the side, he opened the driver’s door.

  “Hurry, in case the car catches fire.” He held out his hand.

  She stared up at him, bug-eyed, her mouth agape. When she made no move to get out, he grabbed her hand. Electricity backfired in his body, shooting another round of lightning. Cassandra scrambled away from him to the passenger door.

  Tristan opened it behind her. Whipping around, she stared at the hand he had extended.

  “I don’t shock.”

  When Cassandra placed her hand in Tristan’s big palm, a strange wave of anger washed over Aidan. She looked genuinely scared, her beautiful blue eyes pale rather than dark, her face white as her shirt.

  Dammit, why had that happened? He’d made a conscious effort not to shock her. It had felt different, as though he’d been shocked rather than the other way around.

  With a low growl, he went around and clasped her other arm in a tight fist. She started, staring down at his gloved hand before glancing up into his face.

  “You got this?” Tristan said.

  Aidan nodded, his gaze never leaving her.

  “What are those things?” She stared at his hand on her arm while he pulled a pair of handcuffs from his waistband.

  He clasped the cuff around one of her tiny wrists, the other around his o
wn wrist. “They’re gloves.” He walked back to Willie’s front door.

  “They don’t look like gloves to me.”

  He kept walking, trying not to notice how her breasts jiggled inside her t-shirt as she struggled to keep up with his stride.

  He did not think she was hot. No.

  A few feet from the door, it opened from the inside. Tristan emerged with one Naylor agent, followed by Young who had the other handcuffed.

  “Anyone hurt?” Aidan said.

  Shaking his head, Tristan walked toward the D.I.R.E. SUV. “David has a hole in the wall beside his punching bag but he said he didn’t want it fixed. Gonzales is sticking around for clean-up.”

  One of the Naylor agents stopped in front of Cassandra. “Are you hurt Ms. Naylor?”

  She shook her head. “No, Andrew. I’m fine.”

  “I should’ve been more prepared. Mr. Naylor is going to be angry.”

  Sighing, Cassandra touched his arm. “This isn’t your fault.”

  She gave him a reassuring smile that warred with the hatred planted in Aidan’s mind.

  Tristan shoved the agent into the backseat of the SUV.

  Helping Young get the other agent in the second vehicle, Tristan came around to talk to Aidan.

  They were collecting Naylor agents like baseball cards.

  “Want me to come back for you?”

  Aidan would tease him about the red mark on his forehead later. “No, we can walk.”

  She gasped. “In these shoes?”

  Aidan humpfed. “You had no trouble running in them a few minutes ago. I think you can walk a mile.”

  “But, it’s hot.”

  He rolled his eyes. She gave him a cheeky grin.

  Yanking on her arm, Aidan started walking on the side of the road, toward the hospital.

  “Where’s my brother?”

  Her shoulder brushed Aidan’s arm, causing a frisson of electricity to sizzle through his body.

  What the hell was wrong with his system?

  “Where are you taking me?”

  To bed for a really long interrogation. I need to work off some frustration.

  He kicked himself mentally. Stop thinking that way, Monroe. She is not another beautiful woman. She’s a Naylor.

  The sun beat down on them, heat waves rising from the asphalt road beside them. It felt like hell itself outside. Aidan hoped the heat would drain her by the time they reached the hospital.

  Cassandra glanced his way. “You don’t talk much.”

  He kept walking. “How could I get a word in?”

  Stepping on a rock, she stumbled into him, her breast brushing his arm again. Another sizzle fizzled through him.

  Breathing through his nose, he put space between them.

  “I only asked two questions. That hardly constitutes talking too much.”

  “That’s a matter of opinion.”

  They walked in silence for a few minutes. A car honked as it pulled to the side of the road beside them. The passenger window lowered.

  “Aidan Monroe, is that you?”

  He knew that voice. Knew it too damned well. He’d heard it in the laughter of youth, the throes of passion, the anger of breakup the night she’d humiliated him.

  “Hey, Sandy.” He leaned down to look into the car. His high school sweetheart was still pretty, though the lines around her mouth and eyes made her look beyond her age.

  She tossed her brown hair over her shoulder. “I heard you were mixed up in all of the stuff going on around here.” Her eyes bounced to Cassandra cuffed next to him.

  Cassandra reached into the car and offered her hand for a shake. “I’m Cassandra.” She nodded toward the cuffs. “Aidan likes to get a little kinky, if you know what I mean.”

  A suggestive blush stole over Sandy’s face. “As a matter of fact, I do.”

  Aidan stretched out his arm in front of Cassandra, backing her away. “Okay, time to go.” Obviously, the woman thrived on making trouble.

  “Give Trent and I a call before you leave town. Maybe the four of us can do… something.” Wiggling her fingers at them, Sandra pulled away.

  “Yeah, when hell freezes over.” Aidan tugged on Cassandra’s cuffed arm and starting walking again.

  “A heartbreaker, huh?”

  A career-breaker, yes. Heartbreaker, no. “Nope.”

  The breeze lifted Cassandra’s hair from her shoulders. The smell of grapefruit filled his nostrils.

  “What do I wear to… something with Sandy and Trent? Cocktail, casual…?”

  Aidan glared at her. “You won’t be doing much socializing where you’re going.”

  She purred under her breath. “Mmm, sounds intriguing. Where are you taking me?” Hugging his arm, she gazed up at him under heavy-lidded eyes.

  Look away, Monroe. Eyes ahead.

  He kept walking. She would not get to him.

  “How are your gonads?”

  Aidan stopped short. Cassandra stopped a second later. Talk about gonads. The woman had them. He couldn’t believe she brought that up.

  Men had their pride. Didn’t she know that?

  She gave him a raised brow and another cheeky grin.

  Of course she did.

  Leaning in close, Aidan lowered his voice as he inhaled the grapefruit scent of her hair. “My gonads are like steel, baby. Want a feel?”

  Cassandra swallowed hard, a blush blossoming up her cheeks. She shook her head.

  Aidan kept walking. “How’s the head?”

  She cleared her throat. “Still has a knot on it. I may have to press charges.”

  “Now you have one in the front to match.”

  Rubbing at her forehead, she frowned. “Blast it. Now, I probably look like the Elephant Man, right?” She stopped to let him stare at her.

  Taking in her ridiculous high-heeled tennis shoes, up her unfairly perfect legs, past her tiny waist and lingering on her full breasts way too long, his gaze met hers.

  Hands planted on her hips, she cocked an eyebrow. “You didn’t even look at my forehead.”

  Mmm, nope. “Why would I do that? I’ve already seen it.”

  A fierce, red blush stole up her face and neck. She started walking again. “You’re so typical.”

  “You said I was beautiful.”

  She stopped again. At this point, they may get to the hospital by nightfall.

  “I was delirious from electrocution.”

  “The truth tends to come out during times of duress.”

  “Hah.” She started walking again. “Don’t kid yourself.”

  Chuckling to himself, Aidan thought it interesting that Cassandra Naylor had a prideful streak a mile wide.

  “I heard it with my own ears. You can’t deny it.”

  “I will deny it to my dying day, Mr... shoot, I don’t even know you’re name.”

  “Aidan. Aidan Monroe.”

  She stopped to stare at him, her eyes round in her ashen face. “Monroe? As in Jim Monroe?”

  It all came crashing in on Aidan. Cassandra Naylor and her family were probably responsible for his father’s death. Her father and brother had kidnapped Rachel and held her at gunpoint. Her brother had tried to shoot his mother. How could he stand here and flirt with her like this?

  “Yes, Jim Monroe, the man your father had killed, was my father.”

  Her eyes widened.

  “Your father deserves to burn in hell. I wish he would’ve just died yesterday and saved us all a lot of trouble.”

  The sting to his cheek cut like a newly-sharpened blade. Considering Cassandra had delivered it, he was surprised it hadn’t been a chop to the throat.

  “Go ahead. Hurt me.” She lifted her chin. “Hell, kill me. I’m not afraid to die. But it won’t change the fact that my father didn’t kill Jim Monroe.”

  “I’m supposed to believe that?”

  “I don’t care what you believe. I won’t deny the news pleased him but, he didn’t do it. No one at Naylor Interests had anything to do with y
our father’s death.”

  #####

  Cassandra looked around the barren hospital room. Her wrists burned as she struggled to free her cuffed hands behind her metal chair.

  Her father and Dar would be so disappointed.

  She could defend herself with the best of them, hold her own in a room full of computer hackers, and could hit the black consistently at any firing range.

  However, when it came to heading up a simple field operation, Cassandra sucked. Although she had been involved in numerous meetings, she had never been allowed to work the field. The men in her life thought it too dangerous for a woman.

  Where did that thinking get them?

  One near death, the other in custody of The D.I.R.E. Agency.

  Then again, D.I.R.E. had definite advantages she had never seen outside the science fiction channel.

  What were those gloves Aidan Monroe wore? What did the armbands do? The “gloves” weren’t really gloves at all. Hundreds of slim, black metal rings circled each of his fingers, with some type of diode covering the tip of each digit. The body of the “gloves” had copper-colored veins throughout that fused with the intricate bands on each of his forearms. They emitted an electrical current, one so powerful it fried her car engine.

  She stilled in the hard, cold chair. Why hadn’t he shocked her when he touched her on their walk to the hospital?

  Not that the man didn’t cause her body to hum just with his near proximity. A man of confidence – no, make that egotism - his strong, muscular physique made her want to run her hands all over him. He carried a fresh, light scent that reminded her of Grand Lake on a clear, fall morning. And his dimples, God help her, could make her babble like a baby if she didn’t subconsciously scold herself.

  When he gave her body a slow perusal on the side of the road, Cassandra thought she would internally combust. Not that men hadn’t done that her entire adult life, it had just never affected her that way.

  Why him and why now?

  Regardless, she had to will away her feelings. He was the son of her father’s lifelong enemy. A man that hated her because he suspected her family of killing his father.

  If Robert Naylor wanted someone dead, it happened. He could’ve killed Jim Monroe a long time ago.

  The door opened. A handsome, middle-aged man entered, Aidan and the agent wearing her brother’s shirt on his tail.