Black Knights Inc. Boxed Set by Julie Ann Walker

Author:Julie Ann Walker
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Sourcebooks
Published: 2013-10-14T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter Eleven

A door opened down the hall. Frank knew that squeaky hinge. Becky was up.

He snatched his diver’s watch from the bedside table and glanced at the softly glowing dial. Oh-three-hundred.

What the hell was she doing awake at this hour?

He very much feared he knew the answer to that one. And his name started with an A and ended with an L and—

Sonofabitch!

He threw an arm over his gritty eyes and tried not to picture Angel and Becky together.

It was impossible.

Ever since the night he’d caught them doing the cute and cuddly bit on the couch, all he could see when he closed his eyes was Becky in that damn Mossad agent’s arms. It was enough to have him needing some of the Pepto-Bismol Bill had taken to toting around.

And yeah, so Angel hadn’t taken her to bed then, evidenced by the fact that she’d still been on the sofa the next morning—a miracle for which Frank had nearly dropped to his knees and thanked the good Lord—but that didn’t mean they weren’t currently giving each other the ol’ slap and tickle.

Ugh. Just the thought made him want to vomit.

On the verge of plugging his ears so he wouldn’t have to hear the sound of Angel’s door opening, he sat bolt upright when the muted chic-chic of a round being chambered met his ears instead.

What the hell?

He tossed back the covers and raced to the door, jerking it open only to be greeted by Becky’s wide, panicked gaze and the business end of Springfield XD-9 Subcompact pistol.

“Whoa!” He threw his hands in the air, wincing when his injured shoulder shrieked in protest of the movement.

“He’s here,” she whispered hoarsely, turning to aim the pistol down the long, dark hall. “Somehow he broke in and—”

“Who’s here, Becky?”

“Sharif!” she hissed. “He killed Toran out at the gatehouse and now he’s here and—”

She swung around and nearly blew Peanut to hell when the cat had the bad sense to plod out of her room and into the hall.

“Oh, God, Peanut! I nearly sent you to kitty heaven!” She cried even as she spun back and once more quartered the dimly lit hall, slowly moving in the direction of the stairs.

“Becky, I need you to—”

“Where’s your weapon, Frank? You need to get a weapon!” Her voice cracked on the hard edge of hysteria, and he realized what was happening.

He’d seen it all before. Men, fresh in from the field, seemingly fine, go to sleep one night only to wake from a nightmare so vivid they’re unable to tell what’s real and what’s simply a figment of their over-stimulated brains.

“Becky,” he told her calmly, “you had a nightmare. Sharif isn’t here. He didn’t get in. Toran is fine and still—”

He could tell by the wild look on her face, she didn’t believe him.

“Come with me.” He laid a gentle hand on her shoulder and slowly led her down the stairs to the bank of computers on the office level. She didn’t relax her grip on the pistol the entire way and continued to quarter the area like a well-trained commando.

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