Midnight shadows, p.11
Midnight Shadows, page 11
Junayd strode across the street as a light drizzle began. The wind whipped the moisture straight through his coat. It worked to his advantage as the construction workers struggled to focus on their tasks with poor visibility, cold hands, and slippery conditions. Junayd slipped into the alcove unseen, sheltered from the freezing rain now. He pressed his back against the brick façade and scanned the area for Midnight.
He started when the wall behind him suddenly moved. A slender hand reached out, gripped his arm, and pulled him through the gap. His breath caught when the wall closed again, sealing them in a narrow space. Before he could ask what was going on, the wall behind them opened into a brightly lit cavernous vault.
“Thank you for coming,” she said.
He shrugged off his damp coat and hooked it on a peg on the wall before pulling her into his arms. He buried his face against her hair, holding her and breathing in her calming scent. He briefly closed his eyes when she wrapped her arms around his waist and held him in return.
“What do you need?” he asked.
"I need to find my sister,” she said.
"Your sister," he said with surprise. "The person who needs you."
Midnight nodded.
"The blonde woman who left this morning? Was she coerced?"
"No, it's... well, it's a long story." She sighed. “Would you like some tea or coffee?”
“Coffee, please,” he replied.
He pulled back and looked around the interior of the vault. To say it was stunning would be an understatement. Midnight tucked her hair behind her ear and motioned for him to follow her.
“What is this place?” he asked.
She gave him a crooked smile. “Home. Mine and Junebug’s.”
She walked to an open kitchen area. He slid onto a tall barstool. On the counter was a sophisticated-looking expresso coffee machine. He studied the interior while she brewed their coffee.
Beautiful mosaic tiles not much larger than his thumbnail covered the floor and about halfway up the walls. The design on the floor looked like Van Gogh’s Starry Night while the walls reflected the changing scenes of Brooklyn.
“Who did the mosaic?” he asked.
She looked up from where she was pouring the coffee and followed his eyes to the walls. He was struck once again by her beauty when the pensive expression on her face relaxed for a moment and pride glistened in her eyes.
“My sister, Junebug. She's the creative one,” she said, finishing their coffees.
He took the cup she offered and continued to examine the room. The kitchen was sparse, but modern. The cabinets were made from quality maple wood. The countertop was mosaic. The furniture was eclectic with a bohemian flare, the colors vivid. What fascinated him was the bank of dark computer monitors along the back wall. The setup rivaled the ones in the Intelligence Command Center two levels below his own office back in Jawahir.
“Impressive,” he commented, motioning with his hand.
Midnight glanced at the dark screens before she sipped her coffee. She cradled the cup with both hands as she lowered it to the counter.
“Junebug is… special." She took a breath. "Please don’t betray what I’m about to say. No matter how I feel about you or whatever is going on between us... if you do, I'll kill you and anyone else who tries to hurt her.”
The quiet promise in her voice, as if she would have no recourse but to follow through, sank into him. There was no doubt in his mind that she meant what she said. He leaned forward and touched her hand.
“I would never do anything to compromise you or your sister. You have my solemn promise.”
She breathed deeply before she spoke again. “Junebug is a world-class hacker who goes by the name of Bugs. She only uses her skills to help people, and she's incredible at what she does, but she's.... well, Mama and I always made sure her life was very sheltered because... because she's vulnerable. She was diagnosed with hyperactive ADHD when she was younger, and she just... needs someone to look out for her. Her social skills are almost non-existent, she only sees the good in people, she tends to say exactly what is on her mind, and she has a very difficult time staying still. My biggest worry is that she is not only beautiful on the inside, she is stunning on the outside, and she won't be able to protect herself from someone trying to.... The sheer amount of enemies she has, Junayd. I need to find her!"
He nodded, his mind mulling over everything she had told him.
“Is her real name Junebug?” he asked, unable to contain his curiosity.
Midnight stared at him with a blank expression before she laughed and nodded.
“Our mother, Rainbow, found me in Central Park under a full moon around midnight. Junebug was found in the exact same spot—in June. Mama said Junebug was as cute as a bug, and voilà, the name stuck. We also used to play with the bugs when we were kids. Don’t ask… we had a very unusual upbringing,” she dryly commented.
He smiled. “It is unusual, but it makes sense."
She nodded. “I told Junie about you early this morning. She said I should let you kidnap me." She grinned, looking down at the coffee cup cradled in her hands. "She always believed in fairy tales and happily-ever-afters. I told her I… couldn’t let you. I guess she decided to take matters into her own hands.”
“What exactly did she say?” he asked.
She pulled the note out of her pocket and handed it to him. He read the note, his lips twitching. He liked Midnight’s sister already.
“I think Jam-man might be your brother. I need you to ask him if he's heard from Bugs. I have to find her before something.... If Colin Coldhouse or Bronislav discover who she is—” She paused and shook her head. “There is a long line of bad guys who would want her, Junayd, and to her, it's all a game. She has never had to deal with the reality of what her help has changed.”
“Does she know the identity of Jam-man?” he asked.
“Are you kidding? Of course she does. The question is: Where is he? Can she make it to him without being found or killed?”
“I’ll call Jameel. Can I reveal her identity or do you want me to keep it a secret?” he asked.
“Keep it a secret until we know for sure that Jam-man is your brother. I don’t even know how much my sister has shared with him. It could be a lot. The two of them were always chatting with each other. Here, use Junebug's computer. It's encrypted. I don’t want to risk anyone finding out that Bugs is missing.”
He nodded and followed her over to the computer. She powered everything on and signed in. Information from around the world poured onto the screens. He was shocked to see some of the conversations—especially ones he knew to be top secret.
“Ignore all of this. Most of it is just talk. Junebug says monitoring the source helps her stay a step ahead, but she’s also hoping our president will finally confess to there being aliens here.” She smiled.
The bottom left screen had an anime series playing. He didn’t know how Junebug’s head didn’t explode with all the information pouring in. He focused on the large window in the middle that was pinging with a new message.
Hey, beautiful. You're up early. Is everything okay?
This isn’t Bugs, he typed. Is this Jam-man?
The cursor flashed with no response. Junayd debated whether he should post his name or not. He was ninety-nine percent sure it was Jameel, but he always believed in being on the side of caution. A message appeared.
Who is this and where is Bugs?
You helped me find my mystery lady, he replied.
Another pause. Then a new message.
Finish this sentence: ‘You know that you are supposed to be'…
A frown creased his brow before he chuckled and answered.
... the sane one out of the four of us.
Jameel replied instantly.
What the hell are you doing on this system? Where's Bugs?
We think she is coming to see you.
Silence greeted him again for several seconds before two pings announced quickly typed messages.
She knows who I am?
How are you on her account?
Her sister is my mystery lady. She is worried that Bugs will be in danger because she... is not used to being out in the world alone. Have you heard from her?
No, but I’ll find her. I promise.
Let me know when you do.
I will.
Midnight was standing next to him with her eyes closed.
"So... she is chasing a prince, not a creeper in a basement lair." She paused. "He's not a creeper in a basement lair, right?"
"No, definitely not."
"Good. That's good."
She did not look as reassured as her words indicated. He reached out to comfort her, but she shook her head and turned away from him, walking back to the kitchen area with her arms wrapped protectively around her waist. He followed her and wrapped his arms around her too.
"It will be alright. Nothing is going to happen to her, and she won't be alone. Jameel will find her. I know she took a ride-share, and I know the time and location of the pick-up. That, along with a physical description of her, is a good lead that I can send Jameel. He'll look out for her."
"There are a few IDs she could have used, but I... I don't want to send them to Jameel... just in case.” She rubbed her brow.
“How many IDs does she have?”
“A half dozen or so,” she replied. She tipped her head against his neck.
“Is that how you got into Jawahir? Using a fake ID?”
“No, I waited until customs finished with the jet and snuck out. It's easier with private jets than commercial airlines. If I have to go commercial, facial recognition makes things a bit harder. I would need more than just an ID, but Junebug is good about wiping the systems.”
He shook his head. “No wonder there is nothing about you. You really do live in the shadows.”
“We try,” she said. "I can’t believe she would just… leave like this!”
He turned her to face him and touched his forehead to hers. She breathed out slowly, and he breathed in. He kissed her cheek softly. She tilted her head, and he moved to let their lips align. Their kiss was just a brush of soft lips at first, and then a soft brush of tongues.
Soon they were breathless. A rueful smile curved his lips when he pulled away.
“One good thing came of this,” he chuckled.
“What?” she asked, looking at him with a skeptical expression.
“I got your sister’s permission to kidnap you,” he said with a mischievous look.
She looked at him as if he had lost his mind. He smiled into her eyes, cupped her cheeks, and trailed his hands through her hair and down her back. She nipped his bottom lip, and then melted in his arms as they kissed again.
Last night had not been enough. He wanted a lifetime of showing her that everything would be alright.
The buzz of her phone forced them apart. She groped for it, almost dropping it in her hurry to answer. He watched as she answered it with a breathless voice.
“Are you crazy? Do you have any idea of how dangerous the world is?” she demanded.
She paced back and forth, clenching her fists and unclenching them. Finally, she stopped, closed her eyes, breathed deeply, and nodded.
“Just promise me you’ll get in touch with Jam-man, tell him where and when to meet you, and... and be careful. I love you, Junie-bug,” she said. “Yes… yes… I won’t, I promise. Love you more.”
She breathed deeply before she opened her eyes and looked back at him.
“What did she say?” he asked.
“That she's fine. That she's not a kid anymore and I have to trust her to know what to do. She needs to live her own life,” she replied.
“Ah,” he said.
A rueful smile curved her lips. “She also said that she would see me in Jawahir.”
Relief washed through him. “I am really going to like your sister,” he commented.
She laughed. “I promised that I wouldn't kill you for kidnapping me. Don’t make me regret it,” she replied in a gruff tone, meeting his eyes.
He kissed her hand. “You never will. I swear it.”
Fourteen
Kaunas, Lithuania:
* * *
Colin Coldhouse strode through the lower section of the safe house. The four-bedroom house wasn’t large, but it provided him with anonymity. Located at the end of a cul-de-sac in a private residential neighborhood, the two acres of land bordered the forest of Kleboniškis, which gave him privacy as well as a way out.
Currently, the grounds were being patrolled by what remained of his team. Bronislav had retreated to his mansion in Moscow. At the moment, it made more sense to split up because he was ready to kill the bastard.
Only fifteen of his team had escaped the attack on his compound. The other one hundred and thirty had been either killed or captured. The group that escaped had been in the vehicles or had covered him with air support. Four of his team stayed with him full-time now: Brett Rainer, Todd Miller, Jurgis Karolis, and the only woman of the group, Daina Aras.
Daina raised an inquiring eyebrow at him. “How are you doing?” she asked.
Colin sneered. The movement pulled the thick, rigid scars on his cheek, remnants of the burns and cuts he had received when the military compound outside of Musteika exploded. The attack by the Lithuanian Police Anti-terrorist Operations Unit, or ARAS as it was nicknamed, had nearly taken out the left side of his face.
“How the hell do you think I feel?” he snarled.
“We’ll find them soon,” she murmured, coming over to run her hand along his undamaged cheek.
He captured her wrist in a crushing grip. She didn’t wince—or look away. Her lips curved into a half-smirk, and she leaned in to kiss him.
“Boss, I have something you might be interested in,” Brett said.
Colin didn’t react for a moment, his eyes still locked with Daina’s. He pulled away before she kissed him. They would finish this later. She shrugged and returned to her seat on the couch where she was cleaning her pistol.
“What did you find?” he asked.
“Two things,” Brett glanced at Daina. “It looks like the ARAS had some assistance. There was a special team with them from the Jawahir Royal Military. Supposedly the JRM was brought in as part of a joint training exercise. There was someone else there, though, who wasn’t part of the ARAS or JRM,” Brett said.
“Dallas and Hamlet?” he replied, staring out the windows at the men patrolling outside.
“Just Dallas,” Brett answered.
Colin remembered his brother, Anderson, telling him that he had finally discovered Dallas’s identity, a woman named Midnight Rain who worked for the singer Idella. Fury burned through him. She must have been the one to kill Anderson. He had briefly seen his brother lying on the loading bay platform, a knife between his eyes. He had caught a glimpse of movement before his killer disappeared under the cover of the loading bay.
“What else did you discover?” he asked.
“The royal family of Jawahir just announced a double-wedding. Qadir and his brother Tarek are marrying Aimee Wheels and Idella respectively at the end of the month.”
A satisfied smile curved his lips. Perhaps, his luck was changing. If he killed Dallas first, then the rest of the Saif-Ad-Din family, he would have his revenge.
And what a sweet revenge it will be. The only one left will be Raja Hadi, if he doesn’t die in the civil war.
“Find out everything you can about Midnight Rain. She works as a bodyguard for the singer Idella. I want her location,” he instructed.
“Yes, sir,” Brett said.
Colin fingered the gun at his waist. He would rebuild his compound. Once the Saif-Ad-Din family were out of the way, all of Bronislav’s money would be released. He would blame the deaths on Rashid al Hamid, the king of Jawahir’s cousin.
Yes. Everything works out in the end.
“Dania, do an inventory. I want to know exactly what we have on hand and see if some of our suppliers are still operational,” he growled.
“Yes, sir, boss man,” Dania said in a relieved tone.
Midnight had flown on a few occasions. Most of the time on Idella’s private jet when Wallace needed extra security on hand for a possibly rowdy crowd. The jet she was on now was twice the size and three times as luxurious.
“What are you thinking? I can almost hear your mind working from here,” Junayd chuckled.
She looked around the interior and rubbed her hand along the plush, leather seat.
“I’m thinking Idella needs to seriously consider upgrading, though I shudder to think of the cost of maintaining this monster—not to mention the huge carbon footprint it must leave on the world.”
He laughed. “Yes, both are accurate,” he admitted.
“Well, as long as you know. It is better than traveling by horse and cart or boat,” she said with a sigh.
“Did I tell you it has a bedroom with ensuite bathroom?”
Her eyes lit up. “I think I’ll go check those out,” she said rising to her feet.
“I’ll help you.”
Two hours later, Midnight stretched and rolled onto her side, putting her hand on Junayd's chest. She rested her chin on her hand and studied him. His face was relaxed. He had a satisfied curve to his lips and was gently caressing her lower back down to the swell of her buttocks.
“What are you thinking?” she asked.
“About you,” he murmured.
She pushed up into a sitting position. Her legs curled to the side. She ran her fingers across his broad chest, enjoying how the dark coarse curls felt under her palm.
“What about me?”
He moved his hand along her leg up to her thigh. She fought back a groan. How did he do this to her? They had just made love like two bunnies hyped up on caffeine and her body was ready to go again.
“I’ve asked Ashar to draw up a marriage contract,” he said.
Her eyes widened with surprise. His hand tightened on her hip when she tried to move away from him. She pushed against him, rolling out of his reach and off the bed.
