Zane frowned and was just about to tell Miller what he could do with his smart-mouthed advice when Eve stepped back in the room. Her face was pale, her hands were shaking against the phone, and a dazed look reflected in her normally clear and confident eyes.

“Eve?” Concern immediately spread icy fingers through Zane’s chest. “What’s wrong?”

“I . . . I couldn’t get through. My security clearance has been . . . revoked.”

“Shit.” Miller pushed to his feet. “They’ve linked you two together already. If they were waiting for you to call in—”

“No,” she said quickly. “They won’t be able to track me. I . . . I cut the call before that could happen.” She lowered herself onto the couch. “I need to get in touch with my supervisor and figure out what’s going on. But first I need to find my sister.”

“You’re not getting anywhere near downtown Seattle with all of this going on,” Miller said. “The entire city’s looking for Archer, and security cams on the ferry will link the two of you together soon enough. You two need to get the hell out of the Pacific Northwest, like fast.”

Surprise trickled through Zane. “I thought Ryder sent you here to bring me in.”

“He did.” Miller tugged keys from the front pocket of his jeans. “Call me crazy, but I hate to see a dumb shit take the fall for something he didn’t do. Especially when the government’s behind it.” He looked toward Eve. “I’ll find your sister. You two just get the hell out of Dodge and figure out who’s behind this, because if you don’t, it’s going to link back to Aegis, and that’ll just fuck things up for all of us.”

“You . . .” Confusion clouded Eve’s eyes. “How do you think you can—?”

“Miller used to be DIA,” Zane told her.

“Defense Intelligence Agency,” Eve muttered. Her gaze shot to Miller. “You worked for the Pentagon?”

“Four years,” Zane said, answering for him. A surge of brotherhood filled his chest as he glanced Miller’s way. He’d left Aegis a year ago without a word to any of the guys, and he’d shunned their attempts to get in touch with him since. But the bond they’d formed, all coming from similar backgrounds, was still strong. It was still there. “Isn’t that right, Bull?”

A wry smile curled one side of Miller’s lips when Zane used his nickname, but it faded when he glanced toward Eve. “How did this contact get in touch with you?”

“Cell phone.”

“Where is it?”

Eve pressed a hand to her head. “I lost it, in the explosion.”

“No, you didn’t,” Zane said. “It’s in the loft at the warehouse.”

“What loft?” Miller asked.

“Where I took her. After the bombing.”

When Eve’s shocked gaze darted Zane’s way, he shrugged. “I didn’t know what was in it, so I grabbed it when I pulled you from that rubble.” He glanced back to Miller, not wanting to remember what Eve had looked like then, or how relieved he’d been to find her still alive. “It’s probably still there, unless the team that came after us picked it up.”

“It’s a start.” Miller tossed the keys in his hand to Zane. “I’ve got a truck outside, registered under a different name, so it’ll take quite a bit of digging for anyone to find you in it. Just don’t get a speeding ticket, dumbass. Come outside with me. Got a few other things you might find useful.”

Miller headed for the door, and Zane moved to follow, but Eve stopped him with a hand on his arm. “How do you know he can do this?”

The fear in her eyes was stark and fresh, and it told him loud and clear her biggest concern right now was for her sister. She wasn’t lying. All of this—everything she’d told him—was true. He felt it in his chest even if his mind still wanted to believe the worst. “Miller wasn’t just a case officer for the DIA. His specialty was finding people who didn’t want to be found. And eliminating them.”

Understanding dawned in Eve’s eyes.

“If anyone can find your sister besides you, it’s him. Trust me, Evie. He’s your safest bet right now.”

Eve dropped her hand and slowly nodded. “I . . . I need a minute to clear my head.”

For a second, Zane considered the fact that she might use the opportunity to run. After all, it was his name associated with the bombing right now, not hers. Then he pushed the thought aside. She hadn’t run yet, and the Eve he knew—the one he remembered, at least—was smart enough to know when she needed help.

“I’ll get supplies from Miller and be right back.”

Dawn was just creeping over the island when he closed the door at his back. Miller was two blocks down the quiet road, standing at the open passenger door of black Ford F150. From a dark gray duffel bag, he handed Zane a fresh cell phone and placed a SIG P250 and a Glock 9mm on the seat cushion, along with ammo magazines. “These should tide you over. You got supplies somewhere?”

Zane picked up the SIG, checked the chamber, and holstered the gun at his lower back as he thought of the car he’d parked in Everett. “Yeah, getting to it might be a problem, though.”

Miller snagged a piece of paper from the glove box and jotted down a name and number. “This is a document guy I’ve used in the area. He’s in Bellingham, which might be a drive, but worth it if you two have to get out of the country fast.”

“Thanks.” Zane pocketed the number and the phone. “What about Ryder?”

Miller shrugged. “Ryder fucked my vacation, which caused me to lose out on three days locked in a suite at the Fairmont with a hot, leggy brunette. He can chill it on this one for all I care.”

The corner of Zane’s lips curled. “No wonder you were so eager to help us.”

“Not us—you.” Miller nodded toward the house. “Watch your six with her. Just because I think she’s telling the truth doesn’t mean she won’t screw you the first chance she gets. Everyone in the spy game fucks everyone else, one way or another. You and I know that better than most.”

Yeah, Zane did know that better than most. And with Eve, he was already walking a fine line between love and hate. He honestly had no clue what she’d do next. And that made him more nervous than when he’d thought she was a traitor.

“I owe you, Bull.”

Miller frowned. “Sure as shit you do.” He handed the Glock and extra ammo to Zane, tossed the duffel over his shoulder, and then slammed the passenger door. “And if I get my ass blown off by some freakin’ terrorist over a homely looking schoolteacher, I’m gonna come back and haunt yours from here to DC.” He pinned Zane with a look. “Don’t fuck this one up, Archer.”

Miller didn’t wait for Zane to answer. Didn’t say goodbye either. Just turned and headed off into the early morning light without another word.

Alone, Zane pulled the cell from his pocket and punched in the number of the one person he hoped could shed some light on this whole clusterfuck.

“Dietrick,” a voice answered on the first ring. “Talk to me.”

“Carter? It’s Sawyer.”

“Sawyer?” Surprise registered in Carter’s—correction, James Dietrick’s—voice. “Is that really you? Holy fuck, man. Do you have any idea what kind of mess you’re in?”

“Yeah.” Zane couldn’t even see Miller anymore. The guy was a like a shadow. Here one minute, gone the next. But that was the way it usually worked with the DIA’s best. Right now, he just hoped Carter was half as good. “And I’m calling in that favor. I need your help.”


Bracing her hands against the counter in the bathroom, Eve looked up at her reflection and barely saw herself.

All she could think about was Olivia, who had her and why. And every time she pictured Olivia’s butterfly tattoo on that phone screen, her mind flashed back to the Agency. To her security clearance being revoked. To the operator’s voice on the line when she’d called—too calm, too cool, too collected. Eve knew that was the way they were trained, but something in her gut said things weren’t right. This wasn’t a technical problem with her clearance like the operator had wanted her to believe. It was a setup, just like the Guatemala raid.

A red haze covered her eyes, and her blood pumped hot.

“Eve?” Archer’s knock against the bathroom door brought her head around. “You okay in there? We need to get going.”

Eve looked back at her reflection. Was she okay? She didn’t feel okay. She felt . . . betrayed. And pissed. And . . . reckless. The years spun in front of her as she stared at herself, starting with the night Sam had been killed. At first, joining the Agency had been an escape from the pain and a way to do something to prevent others from being innocently murdered like Sam, but somewhere along the way—in all the things she’d done to that end—she’d lost sight of the big picture. She’d given everything to the Agency in the name of national security, and she’d kept nothing for herself. And now they were repaying her by blacklisting her, turning their back on her, and setting her up to take the blame for something she hadn’t done.

She had not sacrificed her life for this. To be thrown aside like she was expendable. And she wasn’t about to let them blame her for something she had no hand in.

“Eve?” Archer knocked again, and Eve’s pulse shot even higher. “Come on, open the door. Don’t make me come in there after you.”

Against the sink, Eve’s fingers turned white where she gripped the counter. She didn’t trust herself near Archer right now. Not with the way she was feeling. She was already pissed at him for what he’d done to her, and feeling guilty about his getting dragged into this mess at the same time. And every time she looked at him she saw the old him, the one she’d nearly given up her career for. And right now she couldn’t help but think that maybe if she had, she wouldn’t be in this current mess.