Oh, he had control, Ian knew. More control than any of them realized.
"Get out of here," Ian ordered. "Give the others their orders. This is his play, not yours."
Micah rose to his feet, glared at both of them then lifted his lip in a sneer and headed to the door. Like the Russian, the Australian, the Englishman, their Israeli didn't always understand some of the rules they broke, and others that they made. Incorporating these men into a viable working team hadn't been easy. They were hard men. Dead men with nothing else to lose but their honor. But they were good men.
Ian turned back to Noah. He was wild with the lust, there was no doubt of it. But Ian had seen him in a hell of a lot worse shape. He'd disappeared on them more than once in worse shape, and Belle had never suffered.
The man had lived for nineteen months pumped up on a drug that the doctors still couldn't figure out entirely. Pumped so high on it that he'd been like an animal, nearly deranged with the need for sex. And he had never taken what Fuentes had offered him. He'd never broken his vows. He'd never let go of his wife.
Ian had to trust in his belief that Noah wouldn't hurt her now.
Nodding, he moved to the door, glancing back at his friend and hating himself, hating Fuentes with a strength that still had the power to fill him with bitter rage.
His father had done this. The man who sired him. And Ian still let him live. Because he was his father or because Homeland Security needed him? And where, he wondered, was the line drawn?
He should have killed the bastard while he had the chance.
* * *
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Sabella was standing at the narrow counter that separated the kitchen from the living room watching the hall when Ian stepped out of the bedroom. She and Kira hadn't spoken, the words were there between them, but neither of them had yet broken the silence.
The obviously Middle Eastern agent, and she knew they were agents, had stomped from the apartment with Nik and the others moments before, leaving an eerie silence between her and Kira.
The other woman watched her closely, her gray eyes thoughtful. Now, as Ian moved into the room, Sabella straightened and glanced back to the closed bedroom door.
"Is he okay?" She shoved her hands in the pockets of her jeans and stared back at the man who had been her husband's greatest friend. Strange, wasn't it, that he seemed to be Noah's friend as well.
"He will be." He stood straight and tall, though his arm went around his wife as she came to him.
Sabella held his gaze, she didn't hold her tongue.
"Who is he? What is he?"
Was that surprise that flickered in his eyes? Ian didn't speak.
She stomped to the kitchen drawer, jerking it open and practically slammed the Glock on the counter. She bent.
opened the doors beneath the sink, and pulled free the weapon Velcro'd onto the cabinet frame.
She stalked over to the couch, bent, and pulled the smaller handgun from the little pocket beneath the couch and added it to her pile.
"Who the hell is he and what is he doing in my garage and in my life?" Her hand slapped the counter. "And why are you here with him? You were my husband's best friend, Ian. He said you were the same as his brother, and now you bring an agent into his wife's life."
"His widow's," Ian said softly, gently.
Sabella flinched. "And that makes it okay?" she bit out. "Damn you, Ian. You'd betray him that way?"
"I haven't betrayed Nathan, Belle." His stare was fierce and hard. "I don't order Noah Blake anywhere. Whatever the hell he's doing, he's doing on his own. I know him. We're friends. I'm your friend."
Yes, they were friends. For two years she had watched her husband and his friend together. They had been as close as brothers, maybe closer. And Ian had a particular little habit. One her father used to have. When he lied, he didn't so much as bat an eyelash. His expression didn't change, his body didn't tense, and he reacted so normally that it had always appeared abnormal to Sabella.
"Don't you lie to me." She pointed a trembling finger back at him, stabbed it in his direction. "Don't you dare lie to me. Something's wrong with him and it's more than a few knife cuts. And there's more going on here than that crap you just let slip from your mouth."
"And if he could tell you anything more, he would," Kira stated.
Sabella's gaze sliced to the other woman. What was the warning in her eyes? It was there. She could see it, feel it, and so did Ian.
"Kira, could you wait outside?" he asked her.
"No, Ian, I really can't." She smiled back at him, the obvious love she felt for her husband in her eyes, her smile. But her determination defining her stance.
He almost rolled his eyes.
"You're my friend," Sabella said harshly. "Yet you're standing here and allowing him to lie to me. You're lying to me?"
Ian breathed out roughly. "'Sabella, listen to me."
"Who is he?'" she asked both of them, again. "He's an agent, isn't he?" She was shaking, torn apart by that realization. "Which agency? FBI?"
Ian shook his head. "Noah isn't an agent, Belle. Not of any government agency."
"That leaves private?" she guessed. He didn't answer her. "Are you a part of it?"
"Let's say you're cleared to know only the fact that there is an operation being conducted in Alpine," he finally told her. "You and Rory were cleared for that knowledge, no one else.'"
And he wasn't lying. She licked her lips nervously.
"What's wrong with him?" She was still breathing roughly, the question she wanted to ask held back, from the fear of disappointment.
Ian's jaw bunched. "Nothing you need to be frightened of." He hoped. She heard what he wasn't speaking.
"Why is he here?"
"That's his story to tell, Belle," he said, sighing. "I'm here as your friend, and as his. That's all anyone else can know. I heard about the attack on Toby and received a call that Noah had been hurt as well. I wanted to check out the situation for myself."
"You're lying," she cried out. "Damn you. Damn you both to hell, you're lying to me, just as you lied to me about how my husband died." She whirled away from him, her hands covering her face before she turned back. "He wasn't just shot. Was he?" She was shaking now, so desperate for some part of the truth somewhere, that she was nearly mad for him. "Tell me, Ian, tell me what happened to my husband and then tell me what the hell that man is doing in my life." She pointed toward the hallway, watching as Noah stepped into the hallway.