“Exactly.”
“I need to be able to protect my asset,” she muttered.
“That won’t be a problem.” Jackie stood up, motioning for Siren to follow her. “Come try on what I’ve got for you.”
“How do you know my size?” Siren asked as she followed Jackie down the hallway.
“Dom told me. I went into Bozeman yesterday.”
At the end of the hall, Jackie opened the door and they walked into a guest room. There were spring dresses and feminine outfits spread across the patchwork quilt on the bed.
Jackie grabbed a sundress from the bed and held it up to Siren. It had a white background with large tropical flowers. It was a midi dress with thin straps. Siren couldn’t remember the last time she wore a dress like this.
“I’m glad I got the right color palette,” Jackie said. “It looks good with your skin tone.”
Siren grimaced. The woman was ex-military but made fake IDs. She had an eye for detail. “Where am I supposed to carry my weapon?”
“Thigh holster,” Jackie said, grabbing another outfit. “These linen pants will look great on your figure.”
“Okay, I get it. I’m a secretary on vacation with my chemistry teacher husband. I need to tone it down. This all looks great.” Her words came out with more bite than she’d expected, and Jackie raised an eyebrow. She then gave her a knowing look.
“You know I’m a hawk shifter, right?” she asked, picking up a pale green cardigan. “I lost my mate about twenty years ago. We were both in the military. He was an analyst who got caught in the wrong place at the wrong time. It took me a long time to recover.” She held the sweater up to Siren. “But I know what it looks like when mates are resisting the bond.”
Siren took the sweater, looking down at the ground. “I need to protect him,” she said, her voice low. “If I have to wear a floral dress to do that, I will.”
“Your shoes are in those boxes,” Jackie said, patting her on the shoulder. “Thigh holster is somewhere under all these clothes. I also bought you some basic makeup. The black eyeliner and red lip does everything for you, but…”
“I know. I’m Sarah Phillips.”
Chapter
Twelve
Reed satat Jackie’s farmhouse table, drinking his third cup of coffee since arriving. He was starting to get the jitters. The fire crackled in the next room. Outside the sliding glass door, the afternoon light fell across the green grass and distant mountains.
Siren and Jackie had disappeared down the hall ten minutes ago, leaving him alone in the dining room. His bear paced beneath his skin, irritated and anxious.
He looked down at the documents spread across the table. Their new identities were Sarah and Michael Phillips. They had driver’s licenses, credit cards, and a backstory. It was everything they’d need to become different people.
Jackie came back down the hall without Siren and grabbed her coffee cup from the table. She went to the pot and refilled her mug, then leaned against the counter facing him.
“She’ll be a few more minutes. I think the makeover is giving her an identity crisis. But Siren’s been deep cover before. I’m sure she can handle it.” Jackie chuckled.
Reed nodded, studying Jackie across the room.
“You’re handling this all well,” she said.
“Siren already gave me the speech about how civilians usually fall apart under pressure.”
“I mean being protected by your mate… You’re female mate.”
“How could you tell?” he asked, his bear so agitated he’d failed to scent Jackie as a shifter.
“I’m a hawk shifter. I had a mate once. He and I. We were a lot like you two.”
“What do you mean?”
“You’re kind of a soft guy. No offense. My late husband was an analyst. I was in the military for thirty years. Siren and I have a lot in common. She’s an operator. She’s good at violence. Good at keeping people alive.”
