Evidence of Passion (Shadow Agents 7)
“Just because I won’t be the team leader for her doesn’t mean that she’s not—” Mine. He stopped, keeping that bit back.
“Rachel Mancini is no longer a part of the EOD.”
“What?”
“She resigned about ten minutes ago. I imagine she’s already left the building.”
“You just let her walk away? With Jack loose out there?” Dylan spun for the door.
“We both know Jack doesn’t want her dead.”
“No, he just wants her.” But he can’t have her. Dylan grabbed for the doorknob.
“You want her, too, and that’s your problem, Agent. You’re not thinking the way you should. Instead of using a strong, talented agent, you’re letting your fury guide you.” Intensity thickened in Mercer’s voice. “Rachel isn’t Shannon, and you need to remember that.”
Dylan yanked open the door and rushed outside.
Judith’s hot glare singed him.
He didn’t stop to talk. He searched the whole floor, looking for Rachel.
She wasn’t there.
He rounded the corner, heart racing, and nearly collided with Thomas. The man moved so silently that Dylan hadn’t heard his approach.
“Where is she?” Dylan growled.
Thomas frowned at him. “Rachel? I thought she was in your office.”
No, she wasn’t. More searching showed that Rachel wasn’t in the building at all. A security check told them that Rachel had left about five minutes before. She’d just walked away.
And left Dylan behind.
Chapter Seven
Even at night, Rachel could see the scars left by the explosion. The pavement and the nearby building were dark, seemingly lined by a thick shadow.
But she knew the darkness wasn’t a shadow. Scorch marks. The blackness left behind after the explosion.
She stared down at the sidewalk. A new streetlamp was close by. The city workers were fast, she’d give them that. The streetlamp illuminated the sidewalk in the exact spot Rachel had hit when she’d been thrown by the blast.
Violence could change so much.
Voices rose in the air. Laughter. She glanced over, following those sounds to the pub. It was a busy night there. She found herself walking toward the pub, toward the light and warmth that it promised.
The pub’s main door swung open beneath her hand. The place didn’t remind her of death and destruction. There was laughter there. Men and women flirting.
Living.
She made her way to the bar and recognized Aidan right away as he pushed drinks across to thirsty customers. He was laughing. Despite the fear he’d shown the previous night, the man now looked as if he didn’t have a care in the world.
If only she could feel that way.
Rachel eased through the crowd. Someone bumped her shoulder and she turned instinctively—and found herself staring at the blond male she’d met just a few nights before.
“Hi, there.” He flashed her a wide smile. “I don’t think we’ve met.”
Seriously? Rachel actually found herself laughing in response to that. “We have,” she told him, shaking her head. “You tried to buy me a drink at this very pub, and I thanked you, but didn’t accept.”