Frowning, Hector rubbed at the abrupt ache in his chest. What the hell? He actually cared that she’d been threatened?

Ava followed after her friend, dragging both bags and mumbling under her breath about taking douchieness too far.

The three agents watched them go. Each for a different reason, Hector was sure. Jaxon, to make sure they entered the bunkhouse without any trouble. Dallas, to see his pretzel’s perfect ass sway, and Hector because he just couldn’t seem to stop himself.

“Girls’ bunk is upstairs, honey,” Jaxon called. “There’s an entrance to the right, so you won’t have to go through the guys’ area.”

“Oh, thanks,” Noelle returned without looking back—and without moving to the right.

Funny, there hadn’t been a trace of hurt remaining in her tone.

Ava finally managed to unload Noelle’s stuff—by drop-kicking it into the girl’s path and causing her to stumble. Laughing, now free of her burden, Ava darted ahead of her. When Noelle righted herself, she swept up the nylon and raced forward, too, chuckling all the way. No more baby giggles for her, but a grown woman’s amusement.

The change was startling, but understandable. She must have been nervous around them.

At the last moment, she shoved past Ava and reached the door to their new home first. The two disappeared from view.

O-kay, then. His final impression? Take the “yummalicious” then add the giggles, multiply the cluelessness and the split-second change of emotion, subtract the chuckling and the wink, and you most likely had a recipe for dumb as a box of rocks. Pretty as a cameo, yeah, that hadn’t changed, but she was still dumb as a box of rocks.

No doubt about it now. Her record was exaggerated. Kinda like when the scrawny kid in class paid the bully to protect him. At the moment, Hector wasn’t even sure Noelle Tremain could fight off a piece of lint.

“How many strings did you have to pull to get her here?” he asked Jaxon.

The guy sighed, all kinds of weariness bubbling in the undertone. “Too many.”

Thought so. “And why does someone like her want to do this?” AIR agents worked long hours, made gruesome discoveries, and constantly waded through the darkest dredges of humanity. All of which had been lifesaving for Hector, but rich, pampered Noelle didn’t need any saving.

“She said something about putting her kung fu skills to good use.” Jaxon shook his head at the ridiculousness of his words. “I laughed, so she finally admitted the truth. That she wants a chance to carry a badge and tell people what to do, then shoot them if they disobey her.”

That, Hector believed. “You are such a sucker.”

Good news was, there weren’t enough strings anyone could pull if she screwed up. And she would. Probably before orientation ended.

The thought of never looking at that pretty face again caused an ache of … something to smolder in his chest. The same ache he’d experienced when she’d reacted to Ava’s threat.

He ignored that something, whatever it was, with the same determination he usually ignored his lusts.

I’ll have you gone by the end of the day, Tremain. Guaranteed.

Two

NOELLE THREW HER DUFFEL—WHICH was filled only with necessary clothes and shoes—on the squeaky regulation twin rollaway and looked around. Honestly? This sucked sweaty donkey balls.

A hovel, that’s what her new living quarters were. Peeling paint on the walls, a dirty concrete floor. No windows. No desks. No compusoles. Just a row of tiny beds and won’t-hold-anything nightstands, with a layer of dust coating the air. So … borderline-poverty basics, she thought with a grimace.

How would she survive?

There were only three essentials in Noelle’s life. Ava, money, and comfort. In that order. Ava was her rock, her coconspirator, and her biggest supporter. But she couldn’t wrap Ava around her like a mink to ward off the slight chill in the air. Not again. And her truck-loads of money were (supposedly) off limits while she was here. That meant comfort had a big fat “denied” stamp over it.

For the next three months, at least. That’s how long she was required to stay here. But the worst part? When those three torturous months were up, she still wouldn’t be considered an AIR agent. Not until someone within the organization finally deemed her worthy enough to carry a badge.

Yeah, good luck with that. No one besides Ava had ever before deemed Noelle worthy of anything—except therapy. Her parents had claimed to love her and her dad had sought to protect her, but she’d never been … enough. Not for either of them.

Can’t you do anything right? How many times had her father shouted that little gem? In fact, he’d been dead for years, but every so often she would swear he was yelling at her from the grave.

Are you really that stupid, Noelle Jade? Then and now, that was her mother’s favorite phrase. And tossing in her middle name for that extra demoralizing affect? Priceless.

God, Noelle, when are you going to grow up? That delightful query came courtesy of her three older brothers every time a news station blasted a story about something she’d done.

Corban Blue, the first, last, and only real boyfriend/ relationship she’d taken a chance on, had insisted on picking out her clothes, telling her how to wear her hair and what to say. And yet, she’d stayed with him for a little over a year, proving her mother right. How stupid was she?

Only when Corban had demanded she cut Ava from her life had she dumped him. That very day, actually. Hell, that very minute.

The moment the door had closed on his ass, Noelle had realized she had never really loved him, that she’d just hoped someone would … want her, she supposed. Someone who would at last admire and respect her, even in the smallest way, beyond her looks and money. Someone who would fill the void inside her. That hollow, hungry place that had never known a moment of satisfaction.

A void carved from anger, frustration, and bitterness. A wound that never quite healed, sometimes flared up, but always poisoned her sense of self. Her hands fisted at her sides.

Well, not this time. If AIR didn’t want her, she’d start her own agency and offer them a little competition in the bagging and tagging of predatory otherworlders’ business. Wasn’t like she truly wanted to be an agent. But Ava did, she reminded herself, and what Ava wanted, Ava got. So, never mind on the new agency. Noelle was doing this, one way or another.

“Remind me why we’re excited to be here again,” she said to Ava, needing the pep talk after the award-winning performance she’d had to put on for the Three Blind Mice outside.




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