"Miki, settle down." Her father's voice tightened, firmed, and became commanding. "Are you driving, Miki?"
"Oh, God, Dad, he shot at me," she cried out as she checked the rearview mirror, her body shuddering so hard she was surprised she could keep the Jeep on the road. "It was Maddix Nelson, Dad. I saw him."
"Miki, where are you?"
"I was supposed to pick up Scotty." Then a horrible thought pierced her mind. "Where's Scotty, Dad? Where is he?"
"Miki, settle down," he snapped then.
The sound of his voice, commanding, reminding her of her childhood years, when she knew when her father was at his most serious. He was at his most serious now.
"Now, listen to me. I'm getting in the truck, honey. Me and Mom are coming. Tell me where you are right now. We'll meet you."
She hurriedly gave him her location.
"Keep heading toward us, honey," he ordered. "Keep talking to me. We're on our way."
"Where's Scotty?" she sobbed. "Was he there?"
Oh, God, her brother couldn't be dead. She couldn't bear the thought of it.
"Scott called me earlier, Miki," her father promised her. "He got a ride. His phone died while he was talking to me and he couldn't reach you. Scotty's fine. Now concentrate on driving. I'm almost there. When you see me, just pull over."
She could hear her mother in the background, her tone calm but the concern in it heavy.
She was safe. She would be safe. Her father wouldn't let anyone hurt her.
She was amazed that she wasn't pulled over. They would surely think she was intoxicated if they had. Panic was pulling at the edges of her mind, and Mikayla never panicked. She had been raised with three younger brothers. Three younger brothers would make a girl crazy if they had half a chance. Mikayla had never given her brothers a chance.
But her chest was so tight she could barely breathe. Tears filled her eyes and blurred her vision. She felt as though she were in a nightmare she couldn't wake up from.
"He killed him," she whispered again.
"Keep it in your mind, Mikayla Ann. Remember it until we get to you and get you to the police." Her father's voice firmed again, the use of her first and middle names snapping her out of the hysteria threatening to overtake her again. "Where are you, honey?"
She quickly gave him her location once again.
"Pull over at the gas station just ahead of you," he told her. "We're coming up on it now."
"I see it. I see it." She was crying harder.
She couldn't believe it. Eddie Foreman's face kept flashing before her eyes, his eyes unseeing, the blood soaking his chest, his body bent and broken.
"Mikayla, pull over!" her father snapped.
Mikayla shook her head, blinked, and with a hard twist of the steering wheel whipped into the gas station. The Jeep tilted at the hard turn, rocked, then righted itself before she pushed it into park and threw the door open.
She fell out of the Jeep as her father and two of her brothers raced from the two pickups they had arrived in. Behind them were two state police officers she hadn't expected--officers her father or brothers had obviously called. Mikayla ran to her father's arms, desperate; she felt his arms close around her.
She was safe, she told herself. Her father and the police would take care of everything.
Maddix Nelson wouldn't kill anyone else.
Chapter 1
Four weeks later
Nikolai Steele pulled the wicked black Harley into a vacant parking spot on Washington Street, let the engine throb for several seconds, then turned the bike off slowly, ignoring the curious looks of several women walking past him on the sidewalk as he stared across the street at the office front of Nelson Building and Construction.
Sometimes, past favors sucked. This was one of them. He owed Nelson for some rather important information the man had provided several months prior. Nik almost shook his head. That IOU was now about to become a pain in the ass.
"I'm here." He spoke quietly into the comm link built into his helmet.
"Carry the helmet in with you, Renegade. Leave the comm on so I can pick up the conversation and see what he wants." Tehya Talamosi, the red-haired sprite working communications, spoke quietly into the link.
He nearly rolled his eyes at the new code name. Unlike the others, his code name had changed several times over the years to reflect the differing areas of the missions assigned. For this more personal job "Renegade" reflected the fact that this time, he was working alone.
His initial meeting with Nelson would be overseen by his commander, Jordan Malone, until it was ascertained whether or not this was indeed a personal contact or if it was something more. Something that could possibly risk the Elite Ops unit or Nik's cover.
Pulling the key from the ignition, Nik swung from the bike and slowly pulled the helmet from his head, careful to leave the sensitive electronics inside active.
He had no idea what Nelson wanted; all he knew was that he had contacted Nik in a manner in which he shouldn't have been able to contact him. It's what had put Jordan on alert, and it left a hell of a lot of questions for the man to answer.
Holding on to the helmet, Nik waited for a break in traffic before strolling across the street. At six and a half feet it was impossible not to draw attention to himself. Add that to his well-conditioned body, long white blond hair, and what he knew were his unusually strong Nordic features and Nik was impossible to hide in plain sight.
This was why he preferred the shadows. Nik had the ability to blend into those shadows, to watch, to wait, and to garner the least amount of attention possible.
The shadows were safer. There he wasn't forced to interact with others. He didn't have to risk friendships, loyalties, or possibly the drive to fill the unnamed hunger that plagued his soul.
Stepping onto the sidewalk, he was aware of the pedestrians who cleared a path around him. They watched him with wary curiosity, sensing instinctively that this was a dangerous man.
Nik stepped inside the offices of Nelson Building and Construction and walked up to the receptionist's desk.
"Maddix Nelson." Nik's voice, normally dark and rough, sounded more dangerous as he stood over the petite young receptionist.
She swallowed tightly as her brown eyes widened, youth still fresh enough that she felt no fascination for the monster staring down at her. She felt only that inherent fear, that need to run.