A Sense of Danger by Jennifer Estep

Author:Jennifer Estep
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Jennifer Estep
Published: 2020-10-30T08:00:00+00:00

Chapter Fourteen

Desmond

The muttering woke me.

The low, almost musical sound was strangely pleasant. Certainly more pleasant than the nightmares. Ever since the Blacksea mission, my sleep had been…well, troubled was putting it mildly. And the car bomb hadn’t helped. The flash of fire, the scorching heat, the shock wave of the explosion, the buzz in my ears, the overwhelming energy zinging through my body afterward. The sensations had been eerily similar to the IEDs that had exploded on the beach around Graham and me…

I scrubbed my hands over my face, shoving the memories away.

My hands dropped to my sides, and I glanced over at the clock on the nightstand. Just after six a.m. Usually, I tossed and turned all night, but the last time I remembered looking at the clock was around two. I also felt…okay. Like I’d actually gotten a few hours of decent sleep for a change.

But the strangest thing was that I dimly remembered something intruding on my nightmares, something cool and blue that had soothed the fire and fear roaring through my mind. The more I tried to remember what it was, the faster the sensation slipped away. Soon, it vanished altogether, although muttered words caught my ear:

“…Hyde Engineering…

“…United Corporation…

“…Adrian Anatoly…”

The last name made me lurch upward. My head snapped from side to side, my heart rate spiked, and my hands fisted in the sweat-soaked sheet that covered my body. I was going to rip the sheet off the bed, twist it into a weapon, and strangle Anatoly and whatever men he’d brought here to kill me—

“Lying bastard.”

Another mutter rang out, and the soft, feminine voice penetrated the fog of rage clouding my mind. Suddenly, I remembered that I was safe in my gallery apartment—and that Charlotte Locke was here. And apparently, very much awake. I frowned. But why would she be talking about Anatoly?

Worried, I climbed out of bed, threw on an old T-shirt over my pajama pants, and padded out into the living room.

Charlotte was perched on one of the kitchen barstools. She was already dressed for the day in a navy-blue cardigan over a white T-shirt with blue musical notes. Her cargo pants and sneakers were also both navy-blue.

A steaming mug of what looked and smelled like hot chocolate sat by her elbow, while reams of paper, piles of photos, and stacks of empty folders covered the island counter in front of her. Sprinkled here and there were neon highlighters and colored pencils that I recognized as coming from the stash of art supplies in one of the kitchen drawers. She had definitely taken my advice to heart about making herself at home.

“What are you doing?” I asked, walking over to her.

Charlotte kept scanning a piece of paper, carefully highlighting one line after another. “Research.”

“On what?”

“Henrika Hyde’s connection to Adrian Anatoly,” she said in that same distracted voice.

I froze, staring at the papers and photos spread out across the countertop. Blacksea. Hyde. Anatoly. My gaze snapped from one empty folder to the next, then over to the opposite wall.

Download

Copyright Disclaimer:
This site does not store any files on its server. We only index and link to content provided by other sites. Please contact the content providers to delete copyright contents if any and email us, we'll remove relevant links or contents immediately.