Page 3 of Hide or Die

TWO

Leona

NOW THAT Nikolayevcouldn’t see me doing it, I cast my gaze around until I found Chief Beckett standing unobtrusively against the wall, one hand pressing against his earpiece as he spoke into a discreet communications mic pinned to his lapel. His pale blue eyes locked with mine, and he gave me a curt, reassuring nod. A tall, dark-skinned alpha stood nearby, arms crossed. His black tuxedo jacket barely managed to contain the bulging muscle of his massive biceps as he watched over the scene impassively.

The other two members of our security team would be nearby as well, keeping an eye on events. My spine relaxed incrementally, the animal terror of the past couple of minutes fading to manageable levels.

“God in heaven,” Kam muttered, like someone who’d narrowly escaped being run over by a bus.

“Hush,” I told him, leading him toward Fouchet and the other dignitaries as though nothing at all were wrong. The secretary looked up from his conversation and smiled.

“Luca,” I greeted warmly. “I don’t believe you’ve met my attaché, Kameron Patel...”

* * *

The rest of the eveningpassed like dripping molasses, until I began to think it would never be over. We managed to dodge Nikolayev successfully for most of it—omega self-protective instincts coming to the fore. When his presence was unavoidable, there were at least other people present to react to his complaints about the proposed negotiations with greater or lesser degrees of sympathy, deflecting some of that unbearable intensity away from us.

When the party began to break up around eleven p.m., I was more than happy to settle into the middle of a protective phalanx formed by Chief Beckett and our three alpha guards, with Kam at my side—sheltered from the outside world.

Beckett cleared his throat as we entered the elevator that would take us from the ballroom to our suites on the hotel’s top floor.

“Madam Ambassador, I’d like to do one more sweep of both of your rooms before you retire.”

I glanced at him, surprised. “Weren’t they checked earlier?”

“They were,” he confirmed. “I’d like to check them again.”

“Very well, if you think that’s best,” I agreed, after only the slightest of hesitations.

Rhys Beckett was one of the most respected security experts in the business, with decades of experience under his belt. This trip was the first time he’d been assigned to us, but if he and his team of alpha underlings wanted to double-check our rooms, they probably had a good reason to do so.

Subjugated alphas had become slightly more common in security roles within the UFNA in recent years, since the expansion of an experimental military program that allowed them to access more specialized training in a carefully controlled environment. And, of course, every unit containing alphas still required oversight by a trusted beta team leader.

Beckett had volunteered to lead such a unit, whereas most betas would have resisted the assignment. Rather than trying to out-alpha the alphas under his command—a task that would have been laughable, given his mild voice, unprepossessing physical frame, and affable demeanor—he seemed almost paternal with them much of the time. I wondered what they really thought of him... these alphas who’d traded their virility for this limited form of freedom.

It was dangerous to think about the alphas, though. Even though they’d been chemically castrated, allegedly to make them moretractable, they presented a temptation I didn’t need. I didn’t even know their names, and I intended to keep it that way. Simply being trapped in an elevator with them like this was nearly overwhelming, with my upcoming heat only days away.

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