Page 36 of Deadly Sins
Kate laughed, clearly just as relieved to get back on normal footing. “Those things taste like cardboard.”
“Cardboard with syrup. Hello.” Fenn waggled his eyebrows. “Right now, I’d eat anything.”
“Going for the mystery meat today then?”
His stomach clenched. Soggy bacon? Possibly. But that pinkish meat from a can? He shook his head. “Negatory, captain.”
A smile tugged at the corners of her mouth. “That’s a relief. I need you. Can’t afford to have you off your feet with food poisoning.” As if realizing what she’d said, she stiffened and jerked a thumb at the door. “I’m going to change first. I feel like I’ve been wearing these clothes for a week.”
She stood up, and for a moment, the air between them crackled with tension. Fenn’s heart skipped a beat as he met her gaze, saw the softness in her eyes. But before he could fire off a flirty comment, she left, her footsteps echoing down the hallway.
He let out a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding. He reached up to touch the bump on the back of his head, wincing at the tenderness. But even as the pain flared, he couldn’t help but feel a flicker of hope.
Kate’s revelation last night cracked open the door to a new level of intimacy.
He reached across the bed, lifting the corner of the quilted window covering. Outside, snow swirled in dizzying patterns. The storm spinning up.
Maybe the last one they’d have to face.
He grinned so hard his sore head pulsed. With any luck, they’d be heading back to the warmth and light soon—in more ways than one.
22
Fenn staredat the meager breakfast buffet, his stomach churning. The coffee was scorched, the eggs rubbery, and the bacon looked like it had been sitting under a heat lamp since the dawn of time. Even the waffle machine had bailed on him today. A sticky note slapped to the front informed him it was out of order. He sighed, grabbing a stale bagel and a cup of coffee that could double as motor oil.
His head still throbbed, a dull ache that pulsed behind his eyes. The muscles in his back and shoulders screamed in protest with every movement, a painful reminder of the attack that had left him unconscious in the snow.
He closed his eyes, trying to remember something—anything—about his assailant. But there was nothing, just a blank void where his memories should be. Whoever had attacked him had been careful, staying hidden until the perfect moment to strike.
The position of the snowmobiles, the angle of the attack…all pointed to someone who knew what they were doing. Someone with training, with skills that rivaled his own.
The thought sent a chill down his spine.
He was jolted from his thoughts by the sound of footsteps, quick and urgent. He looked up to see Kate rushing towards him, her face pale and drawn.
She slid into the seat across from him, her hands shaking as she pushed a piece of paper towards him.
“I got another note.” Her voice was tight, strained.
Fenn’s heart plummeted as he read the words scrawled across the page. “Want your secret to stay buried? I have conditions. Meet at the military supply depot. 10 p.m. tonight.”
So their target probably was this mysterious Marcus dude. Fenn smiled to himself. He liked having a defined target.
No more messing around. He and Kate needed background intel. Now.
“We need deep background on this Marcus character. It’s time to contact the team,” he announced. But as he stared at his phone, his heart sank. No signal. Not even a single bar.
He jumped to his feet. He made his way to the front desk, wagging his phone at Jimbo, who seemed more interested in his gaming console than anything else.
“Solar flares,” the clerk said, not even bothering to look up. “They mess with the satellites.”
Fenn groaned. Of course. He’d heard of the effects of solar flares, but he’d never experienced them firsthand. Then again, he’d never been this far north before.
“How long do they usually last?” he asked, trying to keep the frustration out of his voice.
Jimbo shrugged, his eyes still glued to his game. “Depends. Could be an hour. Could be three days.” He finally looked up, a shudder running through him. “Longest stretch I ever saw was a week. Man, that was no fun. I can’t live without my internet.”
“No joke,” Fenn muttered, making his way back to the table. “Our sat phone’ll be down, too. No way for us to contact the team until it dies down.”