Page 8 of Over the Edge

“Stop staring at my ass, Shepherd.” She straightened and set the scanner aside.

I grinned. “Just admiring your technique.”

She shot me a look that could’ve given Satan himself frostbite and tapped her earpiece. “Kate, get me a meeting with Ethan. Now.”

Yeah, I was definitely going to enjoy needling her. Call me a masochist, but there was something wildly entertaining about a woman who looked at me like I was the grime she scraped off the bottom of her designer shoe. Most women found me charming. Lyric wanted me dead, or at least gravely wounded. Kinda liked that about her.

Kate’s voice crackled in both our ears. “He’s busy. You can debrief with me.”

Lyric exhaled sharply through her nose. “No. I want to know why the hell Shepherd is here, and I want to hear it from Ethan himself.”

I leaned in the doorway, arms crossed, watching the subtle twitch of her eyebrow, the clench of her jaw, the flex of her slender fingers—tells most people would miss, but I’d built a career on spotting. She was barely holding it together. The hotel’s buttery lighting glinted off the platinum in her hair, making the strands shimmer like champagne. I had the stupid, sudden urge to reach out and see if it felt as cool and silky as it looked. Probably would’ve lost a hand. She looked like she wanted to put a bullet in me. I found that more appealing than I probably should have.

This woman was wound tight. Whether it was her nature, the solo-operator mindset, or just the fury of being blindsided, I couldn’t say. Probably all three.

Made a guy wonder what it’d take to make her come undone.

And just how fun it might be to help her do it.

After a long beat of silence, Kate’s voice came back, resigned. “I’ll patch him in.”

A few seconds later, the suite’s massive flat-screen flickered to life, and Ethan’s face appeared. The last time I saw the man, he’d looked like a recruitment poster for the military. Clean-shaven, square-jawed, all sharp edges. But not tonight.

Jesus, he looked like hell. His beard had grown in wild and wiry, and his hair brushed his collar. Bruises and cuts dotted what I could see of his face under the beard, like he’d gone three rounds with a champion fighter and only barely walked away. Which was saying something, because I knew from experience that Ethan Voss could throw a punch hard enough to knock a guy flat.

Edge’s last mission in California had been a clusterfuck and half the team landed in the hospital. Ethan gave me the bare bones when he called in his favor, and I didn’t ask for more. I don’t do teams anymore. The only reason I was here was because I owed Ethan. And, yeah, maybe because part of me was curious about the woman trying to fill Maya’s shoes.

“Report,” Ethan said.

Lyric stopped pacing, squared her shoulders, and lifted her chin. She clearly wanted to rip into him for dropping me into her mission unannounced, but she held it back. Gave her report like a pro. “Moreau took the bait. He’s interested in Elisa for more than a payday. He invited me to his yacht.”

Ethan nodded. “Good.”

“But I wasn’t able to go or place a tracker on him.” Her eyes cut toward me. “I was interrupted.”

I grinned at her.

Ethan eyed us warily. After a beat, he said, “Not ideal, but not a deal breaker. We’ll adjust.”

Lyric crossed her arms. Every inch of her saidannoyed.“I was interrupted by my ‘security detail.’ Moreau has run a background check on Elisa. That was expected. We had planned for it. But now he’ll be digging into Mr. Mercer, my supposed head of security, and an ‘incident’ in Dubai.”

Ethan didn’t blink. “Kate will handle that.”

“Already on it,” Kate confirmed off-screen, her voice coming from both the TV and my earpiece. “Flynn will be Colt Mercer, head of Elisa’s security. I’ll send you his dossier.”

I couldn’t resist. “Please tell me he’s from Texas so I can unironically wear a cowboy hat.”

“Well, youareoriginally from Texas, right?” Kate asked.

“Yes, ma’am. Killeen.” But my dad’s Army career had us hopping around bases so often that I didn’t really have a hometown. I’d left the Texas accent behind a long time ago, but I could call it back when needed. And, right now, it was pissing Lyric off, so I laid it on extra thick.

“There you go. The best lies are grounded in the truth.” If I wasn’t mistaken, there was a smile in Kate’s voice. “Colt Mercer is now a Texan.”

“Yeehaw.”

Lyric growled. She was about two seconds away from hurling something heavy at my head. “We’re not here to play cowboy, Shepherd.”

“Shame. I’ve got a collection of boots and spurs that would really sell the image.” I didn’t really. Everything I owned fit into one rucksack. But I wanted to see her reaction.

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