My fingers clenched involuntarily, green energy sparking between them. The nearest monitor flickered in response.
"Control,malysh," Nicolai murmured, echoing his familiar reminder.
"I'm fine," I replied automatically, though we both knew it was a lie. The memory of him strapped to that metal table, surrounded by O'Rourke's scientists, still haunted my nightmares.
I refocused on the screens, directing my abilities into the search. Information about Dr. Reeves flowed faster as I pushed the systems beyond their normal capabilities, pulling data from secure servers and classified databases with an ease that would have terrified government cybersecurity experts.
"She has a cabin," I said after several minutes of intense searching. "Off the grid, but not completely. Solar power system with a satellite internet connection for emergencies." I pulled up property records, then satellite imagery. "Remote location in the mountains, about three hours north. Purchased through a shell corporation, but I found the paper trail."
Nicolai's hand settled on my shoulder, heavy and warm, as he leaned in to study the images. The possessive weight of it should have bothered me—should have triggered all my old instincts to run from anyone trying to claim me. Instead, I found myself leaning slightly into the touch.
When had that happened? When had his possessiveness become something I craved rather than feared?
"Good work," he said, his fingers squeezing gently. "We'll move on this tonight."
I manipulated the screens to display all the data we'd gathered on O'Rourke's network, a web of connections with conspicuous empty spaces where the man himself should be.
"Still no direct line to O'Rourke," I said, frustration evident in my voice. "He's like a ghost."
"Every ghost leaves traces," Nicolai replied. "We're getting closer. Each associate we remove weakens his position."
The screens reflected in my eyes as I surveyed our progress. Twenty-seven facilities destroyed. Thirty-four key associates either eliminated or turned. Millions in assets frozen or seized. Yet O'Rourke himself remained frustratingly elusive.
"We make a good team," I said, glancing up at Nicolai as he studied the data.
"Obviously," he replied, his tone dry. "I provide the muscle, you provide the sass."
I couldn't help the laugh that escaped. "Is that what you call it when I trace untraceable accounts and crack 'unbreakable' security systems? Sass?"
"Among other things." His thumb traced a small circle on my shoulder, the casual intimacy of it sending warmth through me. "Your particular brand of electronic warfare complements my more... traditional methods."
I turned back to the screens, trying to ignore how his proximity affected my concentration. "By 'traditional methods,' you mean intimidation, violence, and the occasional destruction of property?"
"Time-tested approaches," he confirmed, and I could hear the smile in his voice without seeing it.
My fingers danced across the keyboard as I set up automated searches to run while we pursued Dr. Reeves. "Well, your knuckles and my neurons have dismantled most of O'Rourke's empire. We'll get him eventually."
Nicolai's hand slid from my shoulder to the back of my neck, a casual claim that sent shivers down my spine. "We'll get him soon," he corrected, his voice taking on that dangerous edge again. "His options are running out."
The predatory confidence in his tone should have been disturbing. Instead, it felt like a promise—of safety, of vengeance, of a future where I wouldn't have to keep looking over my shoulder.
"Your bear is showing," I murmured, but leaned back into his touch all the same.
His soft growl in response vibrated through his hand and into my body. "He's impatient to finish this hunt."
And God help me, so was I.
* * * *
The war table was covered with maps, surveillance photos, and handwritten notes detailing our ongoing dismantling of O'Rourke's empire.
I leaned over a satellite image of Dr. Reeves' mountain cabin, fingers tracing the approach routes we'd identified earlier. Nicolai stood behind me, his massive frame radiating heat I could feel even without direct contact.
This had become our nightly ritual—strategy sessions that gradually shifted from professional to something decidedly more personal as the hours wore on.
Tonight was no different, his proximity growing closer with each passing minute, until I could feel his breath stirring the hair at my nape.
"Two access roads," I said, forcing my voice to remain steady despite his closeness. "Both easily monitored, but there's a hiking trail that comes within a quarter mile of the property line. Less direct, but—"
