Page 106 of Until the End

“Hey, Castle,” Cutter said, standing. He had the charisma of a surfer, the look competing against his suit and the stodgy, government atmosphere of the office.

“It’s Kinkade to you.” Castle’s husky, commanding tone was diamond-hard and sexy as hell, sending a strange thrill through her.

She wanted him to talk dirty to her like that.

“Sure, okay. Kinkade.” Cutter nodded with an enthusiastic smile. “But that makes it somewhat awkward if I’m in a room with both you and your sister. How do you know who I’m talking to?” He gave a hollow chuckle.

“Big Kinkade, little Kinkade,” Castle bit out, “but I can’t guarantee my sister won’t hit you in the face if you call her little. Senior Kinkade, junior Kinkade. She might hit you if you call her junior too. I don’t think your problem is in how you address me but rather her.”

“Okay.” Cutter raised his palms. “I only wanted to say that Ms. Westcott will be in the best of hands with me.”

“Stop.” Castle shook his head once. “Sit.”

“Uh.” Cutter’s mouth jarred open. He glanced at Kit as if to ask what to do.

“Don’t look at her,” Castle said. “Sit and go back to work. She’s not your assignment.”

Cutter sat, looking baffled and peeved, and swiveled in his chair, facing his computer.

Castle turned and his amazing eyes met hers, sending her pulse into overdrive—the good kind. He mouthed, ten minutes.

Kit nodded, hoping whatever Castle had planned didn’t backfire, and then he was off.

Cutter looked at her as if he was gearing up for conversation. As soon as he angled his shoulders toward her, Kit kicked off on the rollers of her chair, gliding toward the other end of the section where Willow sat alone, facing a wall with her back to everyone else.

Kit understood why someone like Castle worked for the Gray Box. This was a natural extension from his time as a SEAL, duty and country, killing baddies and whatnot.

But Kit had more in common with Willow than anyone else here. They were from the same world, spoke the same language. Why in God’s name would this brilliant analyst choose to work six floors below ground in a cave? No windows, no easy access to fresh air, no likeminded people to bond with. Willow could easily make double whatever she earned here in their hacker community and be worshipped on a pedestal.

It made no sense.

Kit rolled into Willow’s line of sight, with her elbow propped on the armrest, her chin lodged in between the crook of her pointer finger and cradle of her thumb.

Willow’s gaze lifted to her and the analyst pulled out earbuds. “Can I help you?”

“I don’t get it. Do you like working here?”

“Yes.”

“Why?” Kit asked, genuinely curious.

“It’s a good job, with clear goals and measurable objectives. There’s a routine. I’m constantly challenged and rarely bored. The dental plan and health insurance are excellent. The director makes accommodations for me to provide an amenable work environment. It’s not as cold in here as it was when I worked at the NSA, and I met my fiancé here.”

Kit perked up in her chair, her gaze falling to the diamond-covered black bird pendant and the exquisite engagement ring. “Who? Cutter?”

Willow recoiled. “No, no. Of course not. Gideon.”

Kit had caught most of the names: Maddox was Castle’s sister. Reece, Alistair, Knox, Janet, Reaper and Ares, Grace. No one had mentioned a Gideon. “The name’s not familiar.”

“They call him Reaper.”

Dear God! That menacing man was her fiancé?

Granted, Reaper was stunning, but also serial-killer scary. Willow was definitely a full convert of the government brainwashing program.

“Doesn’t it concern you,” Kit asked, “what institutions like the Gray Box do to our community? How they snatch hackers off the street and make them disappear? Like me? Like what they did to Simon ‘the Wyrm’ Peterson?”

Did Willow have her pretty head buried in the sand, refusing to acknowledge or address the kind of danger her employer and others just like it presented to people who wanted to safeguard rights on a virtual level?