Second Sight by Patricia D. Eddy

Author:Patricia D. Eddy [Eddy, Patricia D.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2019-03-07T16:00:00+00:00

19

Dax

I don’t know why I’m doing this. Taking Evianna to a restaurant? Is this…a date? Or a business dinner? I know what I want it to be. Her scent calms me. When I offer her my elbow—not for her to guide me, but just to have her close—something stirs inside me.

“What…do you do?” Evianna asks as we turn down Washington Street. “I mean…Wren hacks into traffic cameras and runs facial recognition and stuff. Vasquez and Ronan are surveillance?”

“They’re in training. Vasquez joined us four months ago. Ronan, two. In a year, they’ll be taking on their own cases. Protective details, investigations.”

She’s going to ask me how I can contribute to a company that depends on being able to see your target. My head throbs, and I’m clenching my jaw so hard, I feel like someone’s driving a metal spike through my skull.

“What about you?” Evianna gives my arm a squeeze and presses herself a little closer to me.

“I…keep things running. Pay the bills.” I know she expects more, but I don’t feel like justifying my entire existence when all I want to do is get her back to my place and lock her in so she’ll be safe. Though, if I do, will I be safe? From her?

We don’t speak again until we’re seated in a booth in the back, and the young-sounding server has brought us two glasses of Chianti.

“You do more than pay the bills,” Evianna says quietly. “Why won’t you admit it?”

“Because I stand out enough as it is. I don’t feel like explaining my skills to every potential client, then hearing the disbelief in their voices when they question me.”

“I’m…just like every other potential client?”

I curse under my breath at the harsh edge to her tone. “Dammit. You know you’re not.”

“Then talk to me.”

After the server takes our order—two spinach lasagnas—I settle back against the vinyl booth. “What do you know about the Special Forces?”

“Um…you’re highly trained? You do things no one else can or will? Like the SEALs or the Army Rangers?”

I fight a smile. “Frogmen don’t have anything on us.”

“Frogmen?” Her light laugh settles me.

“That’s what we call the SEALs.” A sip of wine helps loosen my tongue, and I drape my right arm over the back of the booth. Evianna settles closer to me, and I touch my nose to her hair. I might never be able to get enough of her. “Special Forces training is…different. We’re not always the most capable. A SEAL sniper might beat one of us on the range every day of the week. But we’re the most adaptable. We blend in. We’re trained to assess a situation and diffuse it. To work with the locals. Most members of my—” my voice cracks, “—detachment spoke at least six languages. We study micro-expressions, local customs. We blend in.”

“I had no idea.” Respect infuses her tone, and she shifts—I think to pick up her wine glass. “So…what do you do for Second Sight? Besides paying the bills?”

“I listen.” After another sip of wine, I search for a way to explain how I do what I do.

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