Devil Incarnate Chapter Fifteen

By the time Holden arrived at the safe house, the doctor had come and gone. After giving them each several stitches, he administered stronger pain medication to Bella and Quinn and recommended a follow up with their regular physician, which nearly had Edward laughing. Next time, they would simply walk into an urgent care clinic and not bother to explain why they were shot by law enforcement impersonators. That would go over like a lead balloon. 

"What the hell happened out there?" Holden demanded, narrowing his eyes at each individual in the room.

"Ask your buddy." Edward dearly wished he had a box of cigars handy, instead pinching the bridge of his nose. "He has a tall tale to share."

Kiernan sat at the dining table, which had been sanitized, and rubbed his temples. "I don't know what the fuck happened, except the Zion dudes knew we had extra men. They set that shit on fire with people inside and didn't look back."

"As many years as you've worked with us, O’Byrne, I find it hard to believe anyone got the drop on you."

Looking up, Kiernan scowled. "Don't you think I've thought the same? I came this close to dying!"

"Look—"

"No!" Kiernan scraped his chair back and stood toe to toe with Holden, pointing in his face. "Fuck that! You think I wanted to watch a twenty-year-old bleed out in front of me? You think I'm so callous I'd allow my civilian charges to die so I could take a smoke break or some shit?" Kiernan shoved the medical bag on the floor, pounding his first on the table. "Quinn almost died right fucking here!"

"Okay, I get you. Settle down."

"Don't fucking tell me to settle down. From now on, the kid stays the fuck home! I didn't sign up to watch him die."

"First off," Edward said. "He's not a kid, he's a twenty-one-year-old man. Second, he's more mature than you at half your age. Third, the point isn't that someone shot at my family members. It's that someone betrayed us."

Holden dropped onto the loveseat, propping his feet on the coffee table. "Which is what I've been trying to tell you. Recent intel shows it might have been one of ours."

"Are you kidding me?" Jake shook with suppressed rage, and Bella put her hand on his arm. “How is that even possible?”

"We had a mole at CalTech, Jamal, who turned on us. We knew he was dirty, and he was no longer receiving any vital information from us. That’s how we knew about Zion wanting the bomb; we monitored all communication to and from Jamal, and began to monitor all phone calls from the university’s lab. What we learned is that Zion has an algorithm installed on the computer systems of all major universities and labs worldwide, looking for this bomb. When they found the right one, they kidnapped the guy's father and threw him into an Iraqi prison so they’d have a means of coercing him. The only setback is not knowing who the new traitor is.”

"You've got a shitty organization if moles are that common." Jasper looked out the front windows, then back at Kiernan. "How do we know it isn't this dipshit right here?"

Holden’s sigh was audible. "Because he's proven himself trustworthy."

“Has he?” Bella deadpanned.

"Then how do we know it's not you?" Quinn challenged. 

Edward nodded, looking from Quinn to Holden. "You came to us. I didn't think I had a choice but to work with you, and that's exactly how you wanted it to come across."

"I understand tensions are running high right now, but why don't we stop throwing around wild accusations?" Holden propped one foot over the other. “It’s not me, it’s not O’Byrne. I mean Cullen.”

Leaning over the seated man, Edward said in a very low voice, "Then tell me who it is so I can kill a motherfucker for touching what's mine."

"According to Ben, who I’ve recently been in contact with, Zion sent an encrypted message to the main computer at your house. They want you to take out Jamal, and in return they'll tell us who the other mole is."

"Then why are we still sitting here?" Jasper snarled. "Replace my sniper rifle and I'm good to go."

"Okay."

There was a beat of silence. 

"Okay?" Bella asked. 

"Yes. We have to do what Zion wants if we expect to stay in the game."

"To be clear," Bella stated with a sigh. "I don't want to stay in the game, I simply have no choice."

Holden gave her a thumbs up. "Regardless, I'm sanctioning a mission for you to target Jamal. I'll set it up and tell you when and where. In the meantime, stay here until I give you the all clear to leave. Those at your house are bunkered in the basement tonight, to be on the safe side."

"Great," Jake muttered. 

They never meant for the safe space in the basement to house so many people. Edward could only imagine the tight squeeze they were stuck in and how high tempers would flare.

“We don't know if they’re full of bullshit or not, but we’ll take every precaution on the assumption they’re telling the truth. I haven't told any of my men where you’re staying, and I switched out the operatives keeping an eye on your house. I pulled them from other ops and told them nothing except to protect the assets or I’d kill them myself.”

“Is that meant to be reassuring?” Jasper asked dryly.

Edward snorted. It would have to be enough.

When Holden left, Edward and Jacob scrounged through the kitchen until they found enough for everyone to eat. Jasper performed a perimeter check while Bella and Quinn napped before dinner. They agreed to turn in early, thankful the house had four bedrooms.

When everyone had settled in bed for the night, doing their best to catch some sleep, Edward curled around Bella. "What's going through your mind?"

"Nothing."

Facing her, he stroked her skin very lightly, mindful of her bruises. "You forget, angel, that I know every single thing about you."

Her eyes drifted closed at his gentle touch. "Like what?"

"Like the way every inch of you tastes." He brushed his lips across her forehead. "The way you tilt your head when you're reading an inventory list. The way you take your coffee. The particular smile you reserve for the children." One finger trailed between her brows. "And, most importantly, I know when you're plotting something I won't like."

"I don't know what you mean."

Edward rested his palm on her chest, feeling her heart rate pick up speed against him. "I think you do. I may have been the one who set your wings on fire all those years ago, the one who tried desperately to somehow pin them back in place and keep you innocent, but we both know you reveled in mastering the art of deception."

Further proving he was right, she heaved an irritated sigh. A breeze fluttered the curtains, and he reminded himself to get up and close the window before they fell asleep. Safe house or not, he didn't trust an open first-floor window. 

"We don't agree on what has to be done, that’s all," she murmured.

"On who performs the job that has to be done, you mean."

She shrugged. "Semantics. We disagree."

His tone was mild, non-accusatory. "And you're going to ignore all common sense and do what you want, anyway."

Bella didn't respond. 

"Every member of our team is in agreement on who should go and who shouldn’t, but you think you know better than all of them. Than me, who was born with a shotgun in my hand. I can't deny I'm a criminal through and through—it's all I've ever known—I just don't understand why you'd make such a choice when you've been offered a life free of risk. When you’ve worked your ass off because that was the life you wanted, not the one filled with danger and bloodshed. Death."

Her eyes shone in the pale light of the moon when she raised them to meet his. It was clear the conversation angered her. "I've already explained it the best I can. If someone else went in there and fucked it up, I couldn't live with myself."

"Arrogance is not normally an issue with you, love, but we all know you'd be the best choice. Which is why we planned for a team to do it. It's not fair to assume anyone else is incompetent and would fuck it up, but we know the only way to replace you is with two people. We also know you'd be an easy target if you went in alone, meaning the best plan is a team and not a single person. Two people can split up and distract them, one person can't."

"It's not the same," she insisted. “I’m better at it than any of them.”

So many thoughts whirled around in his head; his culpability for bringing her into the life, and all the hard work since Maeve's birth to go legitimate. He heard the steel in his voice and regretted it, but her safety was the bottom line. "I hate to break it to you, but I will stop you if you attempt to defy me on this."

Her breathing became labored, a sheen of tears appearing that she blinked away. "I won't go against you."

"It would help if I believed you." Pressing his forehead to hers, he watched her lids slip closed. "But I know your tells."

"I have no tells."

"You can't look me in the eye. Your heart is about to beat out of your chest." He shifted his palm until his fingers cupped her breast, teasing her nipple into a stiff peak. "Your body can't lie to me, Isabella."

Squirming, Bella shifted to her back so he was no longer touching her and took a deeper breath. "I won't go against you."

"I don't know who you're trying to convince; me or you."

"I agree with Kiernan about Quinn. He should stay home from now on."

Noting the change in subject and filing the conversation away for later, Edward replied, "It's not up to us. He's his own man, as we always wanted for him."

"I never wanted this for him. I never wanted him to follow—" She broke off, choking on a sob. 

"In his father's footsteps," Edward finished for her, trying not to let her hear the agony in his voice. 

"I'm so tired. I feel like shit." She wiped tears from her face. "I need to sleep."

Rising, Edward closed and locked the window. Retrieving another pain pill, he handed it to her along with a glass of water. Silently, she accepted it, turning on her side when she'd swallowed it and pulling the sheet up to her chin. 

After going to the main part of the house and ensuring the alarm was set, he climbed in bed, staring at her back. There were some sins which couldn't be forgiven, he supposed. His birthright was something he couldn't change, but hadn't she told him not so long ago what a miracle of rightness he'd created? She was the one who reassured him he wasn't the devil incarnate, that his children and grandchildren would see him for what he'd done later in life. Apparently, his wife wasn't as forgiving as she’d claimed. The idea that Quinn might be like him appalled her.

There was no telling what she was plotting, exactly. He could tell she was desperate to take the bomb back herself, to be the savior. The same woman who couldn't whisper her name to him when they met now wanted to take on a Russian terrorist alone, against all common sense. 

He'd have to decide who to make plans with; someone who could help him thwart his wife who wouldn't immediately tell her of their plot. Deceit of that level didn't sit well with him; hers or his. She'd left him with no choice, though. Despising him was better than dying on a fool's mission.