And she had every intention of doing just that.
“I’ve asked Lazaro to let me assist in the mission to take down Santino.”
Trygg shot out of his chair, his dark brows crashing together. “You what?”
“I asked him, and he agreed.”
He gaped at her as if she’d just sprouted a horn in the middle of her forehead. “Why the fuck would he agree to that?”
Lazaro’s deep voice provided the answer. “Because Tamisia has already proven herself an asset to us on this operation. Without her, we’d still be chasing our tails looking for the slimmest threads to lead us to the son of a bitch. Now, we’ve got emails, account numbers, and a possible jump on Santino’s distribution schedules.”
Trygg looked positively furious. “I don’t like it. This is my mission, Lazaro. I don’t want a female standing in the way—”
Sia gasped. “Standing in the way? You just said yourself that I impressed you. You said I was smart—”
“Yes, you are,” Trygg interrupted. “So be smart, Sia. Let the Order handle this. We don’t need to be worried about you getting hurt.”
She glared at him. “I can take care of myself. I think I’ve already demonstrated that to you more than once.” Heat tingled in her palms. She didn’t have to glance at them to know they were filling with energy. “I’m not a weak little woman that you have to look out for, warrior. I could put you on your ass right now. I am your equal, Trygg.”
“I never said you weren’t.”
Lazaro’s gaze pivoted between them. “Good. Then that’s settled. Trygg, meet your new partner. I’ve already decided. She’s in. And frankly, we need her. Lucan just informed me that they’re hearing talk that Santino’s cousin, Marco Crespo, has returned to Italy.”
Trygg grunted. “I thought that dumbfuck moved permanently to the States six months ago.”
“Well, now he’s back for some reason. We need to find out why.” Lazaro looked at Sia. “That’s where you come in.”
Sia caught Trygg’s disapproving glare, but she tuned him out and smiled at his commander. “Tell me what I need to do.”
Chapter 10
It was a crisp night with a fat, full moon hanging in the inky sky. The kind of night that seemed to be begging for trouble, but Trygg shook off the sense of unrest as he sat behind the wheel of a nondescript sedan, counting down the minutes before he could enter the busy club a block up the street.
Tonight’s operation was already in motion, with Sia somewhere inside the building acting as bait to get close to Marco Crespo.
Trygg didn’t like it.
In fact, he fucking hated the idea of the Order using her for any reason. But she had other ideas—other plans of some kind, he suspected—and there would have been no talking her out of this assignment regardless of what he wanted. She’d made that perfectly clear. And he had no claim on her, so what the hell.
This was going to go nice and smooth, and then he would be flying solo again.
Still, he let out a low growl as he killed the engine and stepped out onto the pavement.
As they’d arranged, Sia had arrived ten minutes before he rolled up. If she was following the plan, she should be inside the club making sure Crespo noticed her. They wanted their mark to be thoroughly engrossed in a potential new conquest so he would be less likely to notice the hulking Breed male from the Order lurking in the shadows, making sure nothing went wrong.
Trygg crossed the parking area in long, unhurried strides, taking stock of the other vehicles in the lot. He smirked as he passed the poison-green Ferrari belonging to Crespo. Santino’s cousin had slanted the vehicle across two parking spaces just in case anyone didn't realize he was an asshole when they got a look at his toupee.
Crespo had a reputation as a basic slimeball, but he was also a shallow pool when it came to intellect—all good news as far as tonight’s op was concerned.
The rest of Santino’s inner circle were so careful, so well-trained, they rarely slipped up. But Crespo had a weakness for beautiful women, and that’s where Sia came in. All she had to do was get close enough to put a tracker on him without detection.
As paranoid as Santino was, just bugging the cars wouldn’t be enough. But tonight Trygg had something different for them. A new, microscopic bug he had created that clung to the skin like an undetectable burr and melded even more tightly when wet. The connection only lasted a week or so, but that was more than enough time to get what they needed.
Buoyed by the thought, Trygg reached the door to the club and went inside. Almost instantly, he was swamped with the smell of junkies, human and Breed alike. He stifled a cough as he breathed it all in. Heroin, crack, even Red Dragon.
All vile stuff, but it was the Dragon that turned his stomach most.
If any of the Breed males inside the club were high on that shit and decided they wanted a taste of Sia...
