Total Surrender (COBRA Securities Book 11) Read online

  “What about a look at the compound?”

  Dana laughed. “Try a castle.” She flashed a picture on the screen of a massive stone structure, complete with turrets, a moat and a drawbridge.

  “My God,” Talia muttered. “This is where he houses the cult?”

  “That’s just the church he uses to hold services for his flock. Notice we only have drone snaps from a distance. Elijah is savvy and he’s security-obsessed. Whenever our drone gets too close, the signal is scrambled.”

  “You mean Tyler can’t hack it?” Hunter asked. Tyler Redmond was their resident evil genius. He hadn’t known him long, but from what he’d seen, if Tyler wanted to take over the world, Hunter had no doubt he could.

  Dana shook her head. “Not yet, but he’s working on it. Elijah’s good. His encryption is layers deep. Only part of the compound is the castle…er, church, and the rest is covered by a dense canopy of trees. We’ve been able to ascertain there are several buildings scattered about. Our guess is that the cabins are where the couples live, but that’s just conjecture. For the most part, the Church of Light is a complete mystery. You won’t be going in blind…but close.”

  #

  Talia focused on breathing from her diaphragm as Dana went over details on the cult. She snuck a peek at Hunter, only to find him staring at her. She quickly looked away. She couldn’t believe she’d almost blown it with her bosses. They thought she didn’t want to work with Hunter because she didn’t like him. Oh, how very, very wrong they were. The opposite was true. She liked him a little too much. He was the only man who had ever tempted her to want more than she was capable of giving. He was dangerous to her heart. And he’d starred in her dreams from the first time she’d met him.

  For this assignment, she’d have to play the part of the adoring wife. No problem. She did adore him…not that she would ever tell him that. She’d also have to play the part of the submissive wife. Big problem. She didn’t take orders well. It wasn’t in her DNA. Maybe if she’d been raised by her loving, caring mother, she’d be more feminine, more warm and fuzzy. Instead, she’d been reared by her distant father and equally distant stepmother. They never hugged her or told her they loved her. She’d grown up with no affection from those closest to her. It was no big surprise she didn’t know how to show or share her feelings.

  “During his sermons, Elijah boasts that he can harness the power of lightning.”

  That snapped Talia from her musings. “Say what?”

  “Weird, right?” Dana said, pushing her frames up her nose.

  “How does he claim to do that?” Hunter asked.

  Dana lifted her shoulders. “We’re not really sure. He doesn’t explain to the general attendees of the church. We can only assume he reveals the answer to the couples he invites to join the cult.”

  She went over more information and Talia took copious notes. She noticed Hunter was doing the same thing on his tablet, but then, she knew he was professional and prepared. Just like she knew a dimple peeked out of his left cheek when he smiled, or how his scent, woodsy with a hint of spice, made her dizzy with want.

  After Dana wrapped up her briefing, they were left with more questions than answers. The Church of Light was a true enigma, a mystery she couldn’t wait to solve.

  Logan’s secretary buzzed him to let him know Mr. and Mrs. Conrad had arrived. Dana picked up her iPad and left with a wave.

  “Mr. and Mrs. Conrad requested to meet with you two,” Luke said. “They want to personally give you an idea of who their daughter Margaret is, and why this is out of character for her.”

  Luke, Logan and Hunter all stood when the door to Logan’s office opened. Talia wasn’t sure of the protocol, so she erred on the side of caution and stood as well. Logan’s secretary escorted the couple inside. They were both in their mid-fifties and had the look and air of wealth with expensive clothes, jewelry and haircuts. They also had matching bags under their eyes. The last year had taken a toll on them.

  Hunter held out his chair for Mrs. Conrad and then he skirted the table to take the seat next to her again. She fought the urge to scoot away…and to scoot closer and breathe him in. She was in so much trouble here.

  “Thank you for agreeing to help bring our daughter home,” Mrs. Conrad started.

  “We will do everything in our power to do so,” Hunter assured her. She gave him a sad smile.

  “Margaret never gave us a day of trouble in her life.” Mr. Conrad sighed deeply. “She was a perfect daughter, loving, respectful of others.”

  “She’s shy and quiet, but liked by all of her classmates,” Mrs. Conrad supplied. “She has many friends and a few close ones.”

  “Has she had contact with them since she joined the church?” Hunter asked.

  Mr. Conrad shook his head. “No. They haven’t heard from her in over a year.”

  “Since the wedding.” Tears glistened in Mrs. Conrad’s eyes. “This is unlike her. She might be in love with her husband, but she would never cut us out of her life completely. Something’s wrong. She would contact us if she could. I know she would.”

  “When she first disappeared, we went to the media. We begged for her to come home.” Mr. Conrad cleared his throat. “She taped a message telling us to let her go and leave her alone. She was living the life she wanted.”

  “Do you think they have brainwashed her?” Talia asked.

  Mrs. Conrad shook her head and dabbed at her eyes with a tissue. “She’s too intelligent for that. More likely they’re holding her hostage.”

  “Do you have proof she is being held against her will?” Talia questioned.

  “Only here.” She patted her heart. “But I know my daughter. This isn’t her. She wouldn’t cut us out of her life.”

  “We’re desperate,” Mr. Conrad pleaded. “The stress is wearing on both of us. We’ve hired other investigators, trying to get them inside to talk to Margaret, but none have succeeded.”

  “We will,” Hunter said with conviction, echoing her thoughts exactly. He looked directly at her as he added, “You have our word on it.”

  Chapter Two

  Richie Caraway, aka Elijah, the Keeper of the Light, was getting antsy. He was tiring of this crew already and he had another year to go before he could move on to his next gig. He had room for one more couple and they would be the last so that they could perform their duties in the allotted time frame.

  The current group bored him. Clint and Rob, his right-hand men, had done a fabulous job of recruiting to pad the coffers, but as far as personalities went, they’d picked big, dull duds. On the bright side, he’d be carrying over a fortune into his next job.

  He’d reinvented himself so often, he almost forgot he was the same scrawny son of a boisterous nomadic preacher. He took a sip of the full-body brandy, savoring the burn down his esophagus. He preached abstinence from all evils, including drinking and smoking to his disciples. If they knew he enjoyed a scotch or five every night and an occasional stogie, they might revolt.

  They also thought he was celibate. Elijah barked out a laugh. He didn’t know the meaning of the word. He told his followers he went into seclusion once a week to speak with God and receive the message that he was to deliver to his flock. In reality, he used his secret exit to visit the nice ladies of Miss Maxine’s House of Massage, wink, wink. And massage they did…expertly. He also took Clint and Rob once a week to get “massaged”, though they knew nothing about the hidden tunnel.

  He didn’t know what possessed him to play the part of pure, celibate leader this time. For his next performance, he was going to be the omnipotent ruler that sleeps with all the women…or those that appeal to him. He honestly couldn’t say there was one in this group that tempted him. They were all either too plain or too fat or too whiny. He’d lectured the husbands of two women who were constantly complaining when they arrived. The men had responded, and their wives were now the perfect mix of meek and submissive.

  That was something else he preached but didn�
�t practice. He hated passive, weak women. He liked his babes to be feisty and fierce, passionate and vivacious. They were the ones that were hellcats in bed.

  He wasn’t getting any younger. He’d been at this since he was a kid, traveling around the country with his evangelist father. The religion never rubbed off on him, but the riches had. And the power. The rush he felt the first time he preached a sermon to a mass of people was stronger than the best orgasm. At that moment, he had felt invincible.

  His old man kicked the bucket when Elijah was seventeen and he planned on taking over the congregation. But the top leaders booted him out. That’s when he came up with the idea of his first cult. He knew he was good looking and the women loved him…several of the leaders’ wives, as a matter of fact, which is probably why they kicked him out. He used his charm to round up followers and found he had a natural ability to lead. People were drawn to him. His first cult had been right on the edges of his father’s congregation in Seattle, the city where they were living at the time of his demise. He’d called himself Gabriel, after the angel. When he wrung all he could from that group, he’d packed up and headed east to start his second affiliation in Charlotte, North Carolina. He’d learned things from his first go-round that he implemented in Charlotte, and it was extremely successful. Dallas, Texas was next, another triumph. Now he was in Last Chance, Colorado on the outskirts of Denver, rounding up his latest group.

  The only hitch in his plans was his much-younger sister, Matilda. She’d been a surprise to his parents, who thought they weren’t able to have any more children after him. His mom had been excited for another child and prayed for a girl. She got what she wanted, but in the process, the difficult birth took her life. His father suffered a massive heart attack weeks later, leaving Elijah alone with a baby he had no idea how to raise.

  He took another sip of the brandy and appreciated the amenities of his hidden lair. He'd made some impressive contacts over the years and this, his fifth cult, worked like a well-oiled machine. The money was pouring in, babies were being conceived right and left. All was well. Even Matilda was happy, and that was the most important thing of all.

  Chapter Three

  One week later, Talia adjusted in the seat as Wyatt Hollister coaxed the plane down the runway and it lifted into the air, bound for Colorado. The sky was as clear as a serene cobalt lake, not a cloud dotting the horizon. Flying the company jet meant that there was nowhere to get away from her soon-to-be husband. Thankfully, Sawyer Oldham and Mason Rossi were assisting with the case and were accompanying them on the trip. They would provide backup outside the compound, assuming she and Hunter were able to get inside. She had no doubt they would. They were both good at their jobs.

  They’d spent time with the Prop Shop, as the department in charge of setting up fake identities and backgrounds called themselves. They were meticulous with even the most minute details…everything from grade-school report cards to passports and drivers’ licenses. Talia felt certain their new identities would hold up to any scrutiny that came to bear from the Church of Light. She was now Tina McKay, wife of Henry McKay. They liked to keep the names close to the real ones. Henry worked private security, aka a bodyguard. She was an heiress to an oil fortune and had never worked a day in her life. They met when Henry had been hired to protect her after her father received death threats. They fell in love, but her family rejected Henry as a suitable match, so they eloped and took off, living off her trust fund. She received a yearly stipend until her twenty-eighth birthday in a few weeks, when she would have access to the entire fifty billion dollars. The crew added that stipulation so that she wouldn’t be able to access the money yet, but it was within reach, hopefully adding another layer of allure to inviting them to join.

  They posed for hundreds of pictures to be posted online, including wedding photos. Since “Henry and Tina” eloped, the shots were set inside a tacky Vegas-like chapel. The Prop Shop was prepared for anything. They even scored an Elvis impersonator as the officiant…aka Dan Bradley in a slicked-back Pompadour, mirrored shades and skintight white jumpsuit. Dan had been so into the part, if she heard him say, “Thank you, thank you very much,” one more time, she was going to haul off and bitch-slap the glasses from his face. When she informed him of this, Dan held up his hands, lifted his chin and drawled, “Elvis has left the building,” before sauntering away.

  She studied her tablet, scrolling through her notes even though she’d memorized them. They didn’t have much information on how couples were selected, but she knew that she needed to dial down her intensity. She had to learn to play the mild-mannered, timid wife, totally enamored with her husband. That wasn’t a stretch. She was more than a little enamored with her fake husband. She’d endured extensive training and wouldn’t break, even under extreme torture, but she didn’t think she had a good enough poker face to keep her feelings from Hunter, so she concentrated on ignoring him.

  “You ready for this?” the object of her thoughts asked from across the aisle. The Gulfstream jet featured several buttery-soft leather chairs and one large sofa. There was a table positioned between two of the rows and Sawyer and Mason were playing cards. She’d hoped Hunter would join in the game so she could be alone with her thoughts, but, no such luck.

  “Yes, I am ready.”

  “You do realize you’ll have to look at me like you adore me, not like you want to slit my throat and pull my tongue through the opening, you know, like the way you’re looking at me right now.”

  Talia forced the glower from her face. She couldn’t help it. If she didn’t overcompensate, she’d be giving Hunter puppy dog eyes and that would not do. He could never know how she felt, especially now that they were coworkers.

  “I have never performed a Columbian necktie,” she sniffed, referring to his earlier description, though she had seen it performed and it was especially brutal. “I will work on my expression.” She pretended to study her iPad. Her head snapped up at Hunter’s deep chuckle. “What?”

  “Nothing.”

  “That was not nothing.”

  Hunter’s face turned serious. “Okay. I was just wondering what I did to make you hate me so much. The Mullins op went well. We helped take down a murderous psychopath. Evil was conquered, the good guys won. I thought we parted on great terms.”

  Talia’s chest constricted at the hurt in his voice and remorse weighed heavily on her. In her attempt to protect her heart, she’d injured his and it was the last thing she wanted to do. Her voice was soft when she said, “I don’t hate you, Hunter, and we did part on good terms.”

  He leaned forward, his gaze intent on her. “Then why all the barely-leashed hostility? You’ve had your claws out from the moment I walked into Logan’s office and I feel torn to shreds. I’ll admit,” he leaned back, “your reaction took me by surprise, kinda like a sledge hammer to the gut. I was looking forward to seeing you again. I thought we made a good team.”

  Talia’s insides twisted into a knot and she felt an inch tall. She’d made such a mess of things. “We did—we do—make a good team. My reactions are nothing personal.” At his snort, she decided to give him a measure of truth. “Going into the meeting with Luke and Logan, I was worried that taking so much time off for my father’s funeral would pose a problem, especially since I have not worked here long. I thought they summoned me because they were going to fire me. Then you walked in and I…reacted poorly.” An understatement. “I apologize.”

  He studied her before slowly nodding. “Okay. Apology accepted.”

  She tilted her head. “Just like that?” He was a more forgiving person than she, who tended to hold on to grudges. And she had been particularly nasty to him.

  “Just like that,” he confirmed. “We work together, and I’d rather be matched with a partner I trust to have my back instead of one who might shoot me there.”

  She flashed a genuine smile at him for the first time since she’d watched him walk through the door. “Agreed.”

  #

/>   Hunter handed over the keys to the cherry red Ferrari to the eager valet and led Talia into the lobby of the Four Seasons. Banging car, expensive clothes, luxury accommodations, hot woman on his arm…he could get used to assignments like this.

  He was (fake) married to a (fake) oil heiress, so they had to act the part. With her (fake) background as being spoiled and pampered, she expected luxury. With his (non-fake) working class background, he would flaunt his new-found wealth, tipping large and demanding the best of everything. They were booked into the premiere one-bedroom suite, which ran upwards of thirty-five hundred dollars a night. The thought almost made him swallow his tongue. Unreal. But Mr. Conrad was a banking executive and he pulled some impressive strings.

  The premise was to look wealthy to impress Elijah, so he would covet their money. The Rolex on his wrist was real, as was the rock on Talia’s ring finger. If Elijah was as money-hungry as suspected, he’d notice the minute details. A fake diamond wouldn’t make the cut.

  After they checked in, he led Talia to the elevator and they ascended to their suite. The space was every bit as luxurious as expected, with a panoramic view of Denver and the Rocky Mountains, but that wasn’t what snagged his complete attention. It was Talia flopping on the sofa, kicking off the ridiculously high heels that made her toned legs look a mile long.

  “I do not know how women wear these torture devices all day long,” she grumbled, her hand massaging her foot.

  He stalked over and plopped down beside her, ignoring her cry of surprise as he batted her hand away and took over the job himself.

  “What are you doing?”

  He snuck a peek at her and hid a smile at her look of outrage. “I believe I’m working the kinks out of your feet.” He pressed his thumbs into her arch and her back slammed against the couch. She moaned long and loud. Damn if his body didn’t respond to the sound. He surreptitiously shifted to ease the pressure mounting against his zipper.