At the sound, Nash’s head whipped toward her. His gaze collided with hers. And whatever he saw on her face made his jaw go even tighter.
“Get out of the room, Delaney. Now. You don’t want to watch this.”
This? Was he about to kill Jacob? No, Jacob was cuffed. He wasn’t attacking any longer. She scrambled forward and grabbed Nash’s arm. “Don’t kill him.” His muscles were rock hard beneath her touch.
“He would have killed you. In a heartbeat. He deserves exactly what he gets.” Brutal, arctic words. No give at all in his fierce expression.
“No!” An impassioned cry from Jacob. “I wasn’t gonna kill her! The orders were to retrieve Delaney! Kurt wants her back. He is desperate to get her back. I was never gonna kill her.” His gaze swung to Delaney. “I wasn’t. I wasn’t gonna kill you, I swear. I just—you want to do what Kurt orders, understand? If you don’t, bad things happen. He gave the order, and I had to follow. It wasn’t personal.”
When a hard hand had slapped over her mouth and terror had threatened to rip her apart, it had certainly felt personal.
“The order was to retrieve you. I-I got lucky. Talked to a guy who’d had his car stolen at a rest stop, and he had a tracker on it that led here. I was just gonna take you back!” His words tumbled out, one after the other, in a frenzy. “I was just gonna bring you back to him. I wasn’t gonna kill you! I swear it!”
Fear nearly swallowed her whole. “Did you tell Kurt that I was here?” The last car they’d stolen had been at the rest stop. So that one had gone straight to the cabin. She’d been so tired then that she barely even remembered what the car looked like.
“Told the boss…told him I was following a lead. Didn’t want you to escape and th-then have to explain to Kurt when I didn’t have you.” His Adam’s apple bobbed. “He d-doesn’t like f-failure. You don’t want to disappoint the boss.”
“Too fucking bad,” Nash snapped. “Because he’s about to be getting a whole lot of bad news. The man is going to have a life of disappointment waiting.” His head cocked to the right. “You weren’t supposed to kill Delaney. Kurt gave that order. Got it. Good to know.” Flat. “But what did he say about me?”
Jacob licked at the blood dripping from his lips. “I-I…don’t kill me!”
That hadn’t been an answer. Delaney’s stomach twisted.
“What did Kurt Wellington say about me?” Nash repeated, tone ominous.
“You’re an…open target.” Squeaking words. “The sooner y-you’re in the ground, the better.”
Delaney shook her head. Hard. “No.”
But Nash laughed. “If he wants me in the ground, Kurt’s gonna have to come and do the job himself.”
That was exactly what the CIA wanted. The whole reason Jezebel had instituted her big scheme. They wanted to catch Kurt in the act. Not just of trying to abduct Delaney and get her back. They want Kurt to try and kill Nash. To go after an operative.
Ice poured through her veins.
“For someone who wasn’t gonna say a word, you sure as hell just spoke plenty,” Nash added.
Jacob’s breath shuddered in and out. “Don’t kill me!”
Nash smiled at him.
Ice poured through Delaney’s veins. That smile chilled her to the core. Who is this man?
“I’ve got big plans for you, Jacob.” Nash’s flat response. “Very, very big plans.”
Jacob whimpered.
Chapter Twelve
“You were not sweet. You were not gentle. You were not soothing.” Ryan shoved his hands into the pockets of his pants. “I’d say that you were probably more terrifying, aggressive, and way too deadly. Those were not the descriptors that we were going for in that scene.”
Nash watched as three operatives from the CIA shoved Jacob Brown and Lowell Vail into the back of a van. Those two attackers were about to vanish. The CIA—in the form of Jez—would grill them. Jacob and Lowell worked directly with Kurt, and if she could get them to provide evidence to tie Kurt to being Typhon, Jez would do it. The woman was truly a master when it came to interrogation. And flipping suspects. In exchange for their lives, she’d get them to roll on their boss. She had a way of convincing even the most hardened criminals to cooperate. With the right leverage.
Once upon a time, Jezebel had been a ballerina. She’d grown up in France, the daughter of a South African mother who’d married a French artist. Jezebel had always moved in the highest of social circles. Subterfuge had been her name and her game long before she’d entered adulthood. Being a ballerina, she’d been able to travel the world. She’d wined and dined the upper echelons, and she’d been stealing their secrets with every casual meeting.
She’d once confided to him that Josephine Baker had been her hero while growing up. And if Josephine had been able to work as a spy, well…
Jez had been sure she could get the job done, too. And she had.
