Page 46 of Dark Soul

Dark recognized he wasn’t just angry at Ash. He was angry at the entire situation—at being in Gstaad, shoved together with a group of men who weren’t really a team, who might never be a team, not when they were all holding so many secrets close to their hearts, and it seemed any of those secrets could blow them all up.

Dark and Ash danced around the blue mat while Griffin, Slate, and Rogue watched from the sidelines.

Dark tasted blood. He wiped his split lip angrily, leaving a bloody trail on the glove.

Dark threw a hard punch, his glove connecting with Ash’s shoulder. The man spun, as Dark had hoped. He followed with a hard punch to the kidneys—the kind of punch that could fell a tree, leave a man pissing blood for days.

Dark waited for Ash to fall, because nobody could take that hit and remain standing. And he almost felt bad, because never, in his entire life, had he hit someone from his own team with such a degree of violence.

Shame mixed with the anger he’d been feeling, dampening it.

Ash will fall, and we’ll end this.

But Ash didn’t fall. The man gritted his teeth and locked his knees, retaliating with an uppercut punch to Dark’s jaw. And though Dark was too slow to move out of the way, the blow, when it landed, felt softer than it should have.

He’s holding back.

He doesn’t want to hurt you.

Dark was still coming to terms with this when an insistent beeping from the sidelines caught his attention. It was coming from the tablet in Rogue’s hands.

“I’ll be damned!”

Dark and Ash stopped mid-fight. Griffin and Slate weren’t looking in their direction anymore. They were staring at Rogue, who’d gone pale like a corpse.

“Rogue? What is it?”

“I just caught an email exchange between Kvyat and the Iranians.” He paused for a second, then continued in the next breath. “I know what they’re planning.”

“The Iranians are coming here? To Gstaad?”

“No. They’ve hired a fixer.”

“Do we know who it is?”

Rogue shook his head no. “But I know when and where the exchange is going to happen.”

“Are you fucking serious?” Dark asked.

Knowing the when and the where is even better than knowing the who.

Rogue nodded. “It’s here, black on white. Three days from now. Did you know Kvyat was going to throw a party?”

“You think they’re going to exchange the plans for a nuclear reactor at a party? Here? In Gstaad?” Slate asked doubtfully.

“That’s exactly what I’m saying.” Rogue’s hands were shaking around the tablet. “We need to get this to Thorne’s analysts.”

And, suddenly, their job didn’t seem so bad. Because if they could stop that exchange from happening and recover those plans …

Dark smiled, the skin around his torn lip pulling. “Are you all thinking what I’m thinking?”

15

* * *

Alexia

Alexia hesitated at the front door.