Hell for Leather (Black Knights Inc. #6)(51)

Because talk about something…er…someone to make Mac’s Spidey sense jump up and down while waving semaphore flags. Zoelner was right. Chelsea Duvall wasn’t here out of the goodness of the CIA’s black heart. Something more was going on. Something she was refusing to tell them. But whether it had anything to do with the disappearance of Charles and Theo, or if it was just The Company’s way of keeping tabs on the Knights themselves, Mac didn’t know.

“Jesus. This place is even more deserted than I thought,” Ozzie murmured, implying with a rolling finger that Agent Duvall should ask for the next scan.

And Ozzie wasn’t kidding. Besides the four heat signatures in the building on Main Street, only two other houses in the entire town appeared to be occupied. And both were clear on the other side of the municipality. Meaning it was a pretty sure bet that even if Theo had made it here to visit Charles, those folks wouldn’t have been close enough to hear the big engine on his Harley and make note of it.

Shit. This was turning into a classic case of not having a pot to piss in or a window to throw it out of. And it certainly wasn’t the news he’d hoped to offer Delilah.

Delilah…

The look she’d given him a minute ago when he skedaddled away from her touch would’ve made a hornet look cuddly. Seriously, if looks could kill he’d be checking into the Wooden Waldorf, planted in the fossil farm, and pushing up daisies. But could he blame the gal?

For the love of Christ, no. Because even though the thought of him being a tease sat about as well as a raw catfish dinner, he had to admit that that’s exactly what he was. A tease with a capital T. A tease in the classic sense of the word. Hot one minute, cold the next. Beckoning her closer with one hand while pushing her away with the other.

It had to be confusing as hell…

And the good Lord knew she didn’t deserve it. After all, she couldn’t see the future laid out before them the way he could. She didn’t know about the history he refused to see repeated… Of course, what she deserved and didn’t deserve would have to play second fiddle to him figuring out how in the world he was ever going to go back to the man he’d been before that little scene upstairs. The man who could resist her come-on-cowboy looks and blatant propositions.

She said she’d lay off if you gave her one kiss, he reminded himself. But that was all a big, smelly pile of cow manure—and he should know; he’d dealt with his fair share. Because she’d gone back on that deal almost as soon as she’d made it.

Boy howdy, did she ever. He could still feel the strength of her fingers digging into his hair. Still taste the sweetness of her tongue as she kissed him to within an inch of his life. Yep, she’d reneged on the deal faster than a bee-stung stallion out of the gate. And now here he was…sporting half a hard-on and having to curl his hands into fists lest he use them to reach out and strangle someone.

He’d prefer it was her neck he wrapped his fingers around. Unfortunately, not only was she absent from the room, but throttling her meant he’d also be touching her again. And he knew what sort of tomf*ckery that led to. For shit’s sake, this situation right here was the whole reason the term FUBAR came into being.

“And there we are,” Steady said, diverting Mac’s attention from his unsavory thoughts. The image had finally rendered, displaying Charles Sander’s house, as well as the houses around it in a one-block radius. The five of them, huddled together so tightly, showed up as one giant green blob. Two more fluorescent dots of heat appeared in the backyard, Delilah’s signature about twice the size of Fido’s. Other than that, the block was empty of life.

So what else is new, Mac thought ill-temperedly. And, okay, the truth was, despite his pseudo ire at Delilah’s blatant lie when it came to that whole one-kiss-only business, he desperately wanted to help her locate her uncle. Because, damnit, not only did he like Theo, but he also liked her. Liked her spunk and grit. Liked her sultry laugh and easy smile. And despite the fact that he couldn’t give her what she was asking for in terms of them sharing some sort of relationship, the idea of being a hero for her was more than a mildly satisfying concept.

There. He admitted it.

Of course, admitting he liked her and craved playing the part of her knight in shining armor—or Black Knight in shining armor; yeah, he could be corny occasionally—didn’t change anything. So, then where did that leave—

“Okay,” Ozzie sighed, disappointment evident in his tone. Obviously, he was coming to the same conclusion that Mac had already reached. Simply put, going door-to-door in Cairo would be a useless endeavor. “Let’s keep moving. Bring up the next scan.”

But just as the image on the iPad screen began to fade, something strange happened. The dot that was Delilah separated into two distinct blotches. And it was like the Grim Reaper himself scraped a broken nail up the length of Mac’s spine.

“What the hell?” Zoelner said, but Mac was already in motion, hurtling the coffee table and knocking over a kitchen chair in his mad dash toward the back door. Had he thought it possible, he’d have left a Mac-shaped hole through the sucker—just Supermanned his way right through it—but instead he skidded to a stop, yanking the slab of warped oak open.

The scene that met his eyes was enough to stop his thundering heart. A dark-haired man was busy heaving a limp Delilah into his arms. And Fido, the poor beast, was bleeding from a wound to his chest while valiantly trying to drag himself closer to the man’s boots.