Addison Fox - A Hunter Under The Mistletoe

Vernal equinox, summer solstice, autumnal equinox, winter solstice. His body regenerated then , not nearly a freaking month early.

“Guy ultimately checked out?”

Rafe shook off the lingering discomfort of his early change and gave Gabe his full attention. “Yeah. Charlie texted me the moment he had confirmation the guy was legit. I glad-handed him a bit more, offered him an extra night in the villa and hauled ass out of there.”

“You didn’t haul fast enough.”

No, he hadn’t. He’d considered letting himself into the villa next door and waiting out the burn but they were full up, the Archangel’s reputation ensuring all the rooms were accounted for. He and Gabe had taken their father’s life’s work and upped the ante. The hotel rooms were spoken for nearly every night and they had a list of high rollers the rest of the Strip envied.

Who would have believed success was so damned inconvenient?

“We’ve gone this long without discovery. Your life—all our lives—are worth more than one more high roller wasting his fortune at our gaming tables.”

Rafe rarely apologized but his brother hit a nerve. A fair one at that. “Look. I get it and I’m sorry. I’ve been tired and the moment hit me hard. I thought I had more time.”

A small grin finally curved his brother’s lips. “Losing your control, big brother?”

A few choice expletives bubbled to the surface but Rafe opted against the grain. He’d managed to blow over his brother’s bad mood, he might as well use it to his advantage. “You talk to Pop lately?”

“He and mom are still lounging around the Côte d’Azur and last I heard he was raising hell with the management at Monte Carlo’s casinos.”

“They let him back in?”

“Some sort of royal decree. I suspect the prince is sorry he got suckered in by the charms of one Michael Stavros.”

“Once a gambling man…” Rafe left the words hanging there, an image of his father giving instruction on the latest security protocols falling on some severely irritated Monegasque ears.

“Old man’s not settling into retirement well.”

“Are you surprised?”

“Nah.” Gabe shuddered. “Claims he’d be better at it if he had grandchildren.”

A wholly unexpected image of Evangeline rose up in his mind’s eye. She was absolutely unsuitable—she was an employee with a highly suspicious lineage—but Rafe couldn’t fully ignore the hot rush of need that accompanied the vision. “He can keep wishing.”

“You put Evangeline off?”

“Not dropping this one?”

Gabe smiled, the grin bordering on feral. “Not a chance.”

“The woman knows her mind and isn’t willing to be put off. I’ve got her down in the spa now, giving her the royal treatment and attempting to convince her she’s been working too hard.”

“Having any luck?”

“We’ll see in about two hours after Madelina’s team works on her.” Rafe stood from his desk, tapping the file folder that had already worn around the edges. “Of all the damn people.”

“Why?”

He and Gabe were as close as brothers could be, but he’d kept this from him. Kept the quiet knowledge to himself about Evangeline’s background and parentage. On a hard breath, he snagged the folder and handed it to his brother.

Gabe took the offering, his ability to quickly assess a situation more than evident when he snapped the folder closed a few moments later. “She’s a Hunter?”

“The daughter of one.”

“We’ve had a freaking Hunter on property for damn near a year and this is the first you’ve told me?”

He rarely second-guessed himself, but one look at Gabe’s face had Rafe reconsidering. “I’ve been watching her.”

“We could all have been watching her. Or better yet—” Gabe threw the folder on the desk. “We could have let her go on her merry freaking way and avoided hiring her in the first place.”

“She’s good. Her installations alone have increased foot traffic by thirty percent.”

Gabe stiffened up at that, straightening to his full height. “First the whales and now this? This place is our sanctuary. Have you forgotten that?”

“I’ve forgotten nothing.”

“Then how can you ignore the fact the woman’s dangerous? To us. Our way of life. Our people.”

An image of that long, lithe form curled up inspecting the grass outside filled his head. Was she seeking proof? Attempting to set a trap? Or was it something else?

Rafe hadn’t sensed malice in her. More, she had an aching vulnerability about her that called to some strange, empty place deep inside of him.

Orphan.

Emancipated minor.

Workhorse.

None of those images matched with the sullen, disillusioned cadre normally drafted into the Hunters’ midst. Chaos thrived on the weak-minded and the easily swayed.

Evangeline Kennedy was neither.

“We got the intel on the two men she fired yesterday.”

Rafe knew his brother and there was no way he was dropping the subject of Evangeline anytime soon. But there was something underneath the comment that slashed through Rafe’s thoughts. “And?”

“They’re Hunters. My team’s tracked them back to a flophouse on the outskirts of Henderson. I’m headed there tonight.”

“I’ll join you.”

“Save it. You need to keep your focus here.”

“You won’t keep me out of this.”

“Then get your damn head in the game. She comes from the line of people determined to expose us and slaughter us all.”

“The Hunters are minions of Chaos. We’ve yet to narrow in on a leader. We’ve dealt with them before and we’ll deal with them again.”

“He’s here. I can feel it. Know it. There’s been too much static lately. Too many close calls.” Gabe dropped onto the edge of Rafe’s desk. “Don’t tell me you can’t feel it?”

Rafe shook his head, suddenly unwilling to put voice to the feeling. He understood Gabe’s point—had felt the same raw energy swirling around the casino and their people—but kept pushing against it, unwilling to act rashly.

He was the methodical Stavros, while Gabe had their father’s brash, devil-may-care attitude in spades. They complemented each other—they always had—so why were they so far apart on this? Rash action threatened their secrets, but so did ignorance. And it was time he remembered that.

Especially now that Evangeline had seen him take his true form.

And, by all accounts, was determined to understand what it all meant.

While she was still irritated at Rafe’s heavy-handed behavior, dragging her from the lawn and pushing her into a series of spa appointments, Evangeline had to admit the man had a point.

A great point.

If she could put together a coherent thought to remember just how great his point really was.

Relaxation! That was it. He’d been on her, stressing the importance of taking some time for herself and not working too hard.

Firm hands slid up and down her spine, kneading muscles and loosening knots she didn’t even know she had. The massage was the coup de grâce in an afternoon full of rest, relaxation and a significant amount of pampering. A facial. A manicure and pedicure. And some amazing thing with hot rocks that should have burned like crazy but instead, managed to loosen her muscles even more than they already were.

Why didn’t she do this for herself?

The question began as an abstract cloud, floating through her mind, but something about it stilled, expanding in her thoughts.

Why didn’t she do this more often? She wasn’t poor any longer. Far from it, in fact. The Archangel paid her a generous salary for the work she did across the property. She didn’t live extravagantly, her one-bedroom apartment more than enough room for the amount of time she spent there. And working on-property gave her a discount on the spa services.