Midnight Kiss (Men of Midnight #7) - Lisa Marie Rice Page 0,70

a candle for him.

The image was super clear even on Luke’s super crap screen. Glass looked exhausted and at least sixty years old, though she knew he’d only been 46 when he died.

Glass sighed deeply and for a moment his hand trembled on the handle of his cane. His head dipped down, looking at the ground. Then he looked up and smiled sadly.

“Hello, Hope,” he said. “Congratulations on solving the puzzle. You’re seeing this after I’m dead. I’m Frank Glass. I’m your uncle.”

Washington, DC

Court Redfield thought long and hard about joining Resnick in Sacramento, where it all started. To make sure it was done right this time. It would be like travelling back in time, but not in a good way. He’d always hated the place. It smelled of dust and neglect and regret. Washington had always smelled like power to him. The perfume of the big time — a place where powerful men lived powerful lives. The center, not the provinces.

Court read history and he loved Roman history above all. He hadn’t enjoyed his period as a Senator — too much kowtowing to morons — but he’d loved the idea of it. He identified with the biographies of the Romans he’d read. He knew that though life in the provinces might have been sweet, a real man of power needed to be in Rome. Just as he needed to be in Washington. Because one day he’d end up Imperator.

Sacramento was the dusty outlying provinces and he’d hoped never to go back. California was lost to his party anyway, so he’d planned on sending his vice presidential candidate to campaign there.

In the end, he’d decided to stay in Washington, and use a very secure videoconference app. Resnick was in a parade rest position. Good old Resnick. Loyal as ever. Goddammit, why the fuck couldn’t his son behave like his employee? Court was aiming at the highest office in the land, a position of almost unimaginable power. He should have his son by his side, not a member of his Pretorian Guard.

As soon as the connection was established, Resnick spoke.

“Morning sir,” he said. “I think I have their location pinpointed. A man and a woman. The woman has been confirmed as being Hope Ellis, formerly Catherine Benson. I’ve sent a drone to their location. As soon as I have confirmation, I’ll wait until nightfall to strike.”

A smile crossed Court’s face for the first time that day. “Excellent.”

“Sir.” Resnick’s head bowed. It was a gesture of fealty.

“End this,” Court said. “Everyone involved. And don’t be seen.”

Resnick’s head bowed once more. Court knew how Resnick viewed him and what he was thinking.

Thy will be done.

Sacramento

Luke was a former Ranger. He got a lot of shit from the squids at ASI about SEALs being so badass, but Ranger training was one of the toughest in the world. Ranger School was sixty-two days of hell. Every single thread in the Ranger cloth tab was soaked in blood and every single molecule of the metal tab was paid for in blood, sweat and tears.

To earn his tab, he’d trained twenty hours a day, averaging three and a half hours of sleep, carrying ninety pounds of gear, patrolling more than two hundred miles throughout the course. Every day he had live fire drills and there was the constant threat of ambushes by Red Team.

That was the training.

He’d seen brutal combat over three deployments, had been shot at constantly. He was unshockable. Or so he thought.

But right now, it was a good thing he was sitting down. Because it felt like he’d been gut punched.

Hope looked like someone had switched her off. Her face was bloodless. He’d only ever seen that color in dead men. She had that same look — waxy and lifeless.

“What?” she whispered.

Whatever was going on in that goddamned screen, Luke had to tend to Hope first. Shock could kill — he knew that. And though he was falling in love with her, right now he felt like she was his teammate and he had to protect her. He reached out and froze the monitor.

“Sit down.” Hope turned her head to him, her eyes following slowly. She couldn’t coordinate her movements. She didn’t even know she

“Down, honey.” Putting a hand on her shoulders, he pushed gently until she sat back down in the chair next to his. She resisted, then suddenly lost all resistance, and simply plopped down. Her hands were shaking.

In a moment, he had a tumbler with two fingers of whiskey and put