extended a hand to Madeline. “’Til next time, Sister.”
She gripped his hand hard and pumped it once. “I’ll be training. Will you?”
“Hell yeah,” he growled.
After they broke away, North turned for the exit. The rear room of the church had been set up as a training space, with mats and gym equipment. He walked into the restroom and pulled off his sweaty clothes. Following a generous spray of deodorant, he put his usual uniform of jeans and a logo T-shirt on. This shirt said NERD in big letters across his chest—one of his favorites because it started a lot of conversations with pretty girls.
While he laced up his boots, he thought over his sparring session, analyzing where he’d gone wrong and what he could have done differently both weighed heavy on his mind.
Minutes later, he left the restroom and wove through the old cathedral that served as their headquarters. The scents of wood polish and the communal wine that hadn’t been drunk here in years hung in the air. While laid up in his apartment for weeks with his injuries, he didn’t realize how much he missed these smells. Now he dragged a deep breath through his nostrils, relishing the sense of belonging he’d missed even more.
He moved into the main church with its soaring ceilings and curved beams crisscrossing the arch. The pews were filled with quite a few members of what they called the Church, all busy with research or quietly discussing missions. North walked to the far wall where the bar sat and poured himself a shot of tequila.
“I don’t know how you still drink that after the age of twenty-five,” Oz said from behind him.
North set down the bottle and lifted the whiskey. “Is this more to your liking, boss?”
Oz grabbed a shot glass and flipped it over for North to do the honors. He poured a tot and passed it to Oz.
They sipped a moment in silence, and North allowed the alcohol to work against his frayed nerves. He didn’t want to admit to how on edge he felt during that fight. Losing wasn’t an option, because deep down, he’d fostered the fear that he really wasn’t physically up to par.
At least I proved myself.
He and Oz set their glasses down simultaneously. “Well, back to work,” North said.
Oz nodded and followed him into the chamber off the altar where computer equipment lined one wall. Madeline already sat at hers, typing away, deep in concentration.
North worked closely with her day in and out, and he probably tolerated the Ice Queen better than anyone, but today he didn’t feel like sitting next to her. When he slipped into his chair, she didn’t glance away from her screen.
Settling in, he checked the list of active missions. Their last call came in two days earlier, with a missing woman and a husband desperate to find her. After some deep investigation, Madeline found the lead. The husband was involved with a gambling ring, and they took the woman out of her bed while he worked the night shift. They wanted payment, and ransom money on top of it, but Oz had dispatched one of their guards to locate and protect her while several others made sure the kidnappers couldn’t come for her ever again.
North hadn’t been selected to go.
He scoured the list. As he stared at the names, an addition popped onto his screen.
“Incoming,” he announced.
Oz pivoted in his own chair to look at North’s screen. “Who’s closest in position to that woman?”
North pulled up a map that contained small blinking arrows everywhere in the world that a member of The Guard stood, including the three in this room. The microchips inserted in each of their wrists tracked them and afforded that doors opened whenever they required.
North returned his focus to the name on the screen. Sloane Sailor.
His brow crinkled, and the split stung. He’d only dabbed it with toilet paper in the restroom and slapped a bandage over it.
“Sloane Sailor. Is that the actress?” Madeline asked.
He nodded. “Pretty sure.” He’d just spent a whole day in recovery watching Sloane Sailor’s movie marathon on cable with his foot propped on two pillows and a beer in his hand. The action movie heroine had a virile sexiness that drew audiences to her, and in his opinion, her acting skills surpassed many silly women in the industry.
“What happened to her?” Oz asked from beside him.
Madeline released a low whistle. “Her latest movie has people stirred up. Activist groups and union workers. It’s