“How’s Nikki?” Ryan asked without preamble.
“Good,” Damien said automatically, then, “Why are you—”
“Jamie’s worried about her, too.” Jamie Archer—now Jamie Hunter—had been Nikki’s best friend since before Damien knew either of them. Beautiful, brash, reckless, and outspoken, Jamie was like a force of nature. There was also no one he trusted more where Nikki was concerned.
“What’s she said?” Damien asked.
“It was odd, actually. This morning she mentioned that Nikki had been doing so well, between time passing and you and counseling.”
“But?”
“That’s what was odd. Then she said that damn car spoiled everything.”
“What the hell does that mean?”
“That’s what I asked, but Jamie said it was a BFF confidence, which I’d normally respect, but with Nikki and everything that happened, I decided to push.”
Damien’s chest tightened. He knew Ryan was referring to Nikki’s cutting. She hadn’t cut for years, not since before she and Damien got together. At least not until Anne’s kidnapping. Then she’d taken a blade to her skin. Only once, and not deep. But she’d done it.
She’d worked with a counselor, publicly talked about it, and even started volunteering with troubled teens, but Damien still worried that the hated scalpel had opened not just her skin, but a door to the shadows that now seemed to haunt his wife.
“And? So what did Jamie say?”
“Nothing. I pressed, and I think she would have told me, but then Jeffery got sand in his eye—we were babysitting for Syl and Jackson at the playground this morning—and before I had the chance to ask what she meant, she and the kids were heading off to meet Syl. You’ll probably see her before I do, but I can call and ask if you want.”
“No, that’s okay.” Jamie was coming to the island that evening so that Nikki would have company over the next few days while Damien was in Paris on business. Sylvia and Jackson were already on site, along with their son and daughter. “I’ll either ask her in the morning or find out from Nikki.”
“Nik hasn’t said anything to you?”
Damien frowned. “No. Maybe that means it’s nothing at all.”
“Maybe,” Ryan said, but Damien could tell his friend didn’t believe that any more than Damien did.
“While I appreciate your concern about my wife, I’m assuming that wasn’t the primary purpose of this call?”
“I wanted to update you,” Ryan said, his voice now firmly professional. “Denise has moved fully over to Stark Security, although I still can’t get her to do field work. Even so, she’s one hell of an asset in tech.”
“Keep pushing,” Damien said, thinking of the competent blonde with the sharp green eyes. When her husband had disappeared during a covert government mission, she’d left her own intelligence job for a position at Stark International. Damien understood her desire to avoid the field, hiding herself away behind a keyboard. But he’d also seen the dossier Ryan had put together, compiled through both legitimate and not-so-legitimate means. The woman had talent. Stark Security would take her any way it could have her, but Damien wanted her in the field where she could be the most use.
Created after Anne’s kidnapping, Stark Security was the tangible manifestation of Damien’s need to not only protect his family, but to help others in similar positions. To fight against those who oppressed the innocent, and fill the gap between what the authorities could do, and what needed to be done. It was Damien’s passion project, and it was his current mission to populate it with the most talented people he could find.
“Don’t worry. I’ll keep on Denny. And Liam’s in,” Ryan added. “Not much of a surprise there. He made noises about retiring, but I never believed him.”
“Liam Foster is an asset,” Damien agreed. “Good work.”
“Hey, you’re the one with the relationship to Deliverance,” Ryan pointed out, referring to the now-defunct vigilante group to which Liam had once belonged.
“And Quincy?” Damien asked, referring to another former Deliverance operative who had helped out with the investigation into Anne’s kidnapping.
“He’s still dragging his feet. But I think he’s leaning toward signing on. That’s the main reason I called. To tell you to give him a shout. Maybe even make a stop in London before you head on to Paris.”
“I’ll give him a call and see if he’s available. He’s still working for MI6, so he could be anywhere.”
Ryan chuckled. “Maybe he’s visiting Antonio in Paris.”
“That would be convenient.” Damien was primarily traveling to Paris for a series of meetings with the head of the development team at the French division of Stark Applied Technology. But while he was there, he intended to meet with Antonio Santos, another former member of Deliverance, and a man with the kind of skills, experience, and hard edges that would make him an asset at Stark Security.
“Daddy! Daddy!” Lara’s high-pitched voice caught his attention and he looked up to see that Nikki had joined the girls in the surf. Now his four-year-old daughter jumped and clapped as Nikki held Anne, their two-year-old, under her arms, and was swinging her up and down so that Anne’s little feet skimmed the waves as they rolled in.
“Come do me, Daddy!” Lara demanded. “Come do me!”
“In a minute, baby,” Damien called back, basking in the wide smile that Nikki tossed his way. A smile that flashed as bright and pure as the sky above. A smile that made it seem as if she didn’t have a care in the world.
Damien knew better.
“I’ll call him now,” Damien said, driven by the sudden urge to get Stark Security fully staffed. He wanted the SSA to be out there in the world, fighting anything that put a shadow on his wife’s face and destroying the kind of evil that had stepped inside the perimeter of Damien’s life and laid a hand on his child and her nanny.
Quincy answered on the first ring. “Radcliffe.”
“It’s Damien. Are you in London?”
“Malta, actually. Then I’m on to Prague, Milan, and Copenhagen.” His voice was crisp, his British accent pronounced. “It’s a bloody tour of Europe, and not one I signed on for.”
Damien chuckled. “Considering the laundry list of locations, I take it this isn’t a covert operation. Because if it is, I’m going to have to rethink our offer to bring you on at Stark Security.”
“Stick with tennis and science, Mr. Stark. Comedy isn’t your thing.”
“A diplomatic tour? When will you be back in London?”
“I’m on the road for a month. It’s a bloody nightmare. And, no, I’m not going through Paris, so meeting there isn’t an option.”
“Ryan mentioned my itinerary to you,” Damien said. “To me, he mentioned that you’re considering our offer.”
“I am. I have been since we spoke in Malibu. It’s a good offer, Stark. But I also told you I was thinking about retiring.”
“And now you’re thinking about staying in.”
“True. But thinking and doing aren’t the same thing. And if I stay in this business, I can’t go on serving two masters.” In what Damien assumed was a rare arrangement, Quincy had been an MI6 agent even while working with Deliverance. “I assume you know that, too,” Quincy continued. “Or guessed it. And that you want to have a sit-down to push me over the line toward Stark Security and away from MI6.”
“But it looks like I’ll have to settle for this phone call.”
Damien could almost hear the smile in Quincy’s voice when he said, “I’m listening.”
Damien drew in a breath, letting the sight of Nikki and the girls focus his thoughts. “I need to make this happen. Stark Security. I need it to be more than just another entity under the Stark umbrella. I need it to be formidable. Hell, I need it to be dangerous. I need it to be the line in the sand between the kind of world that should exist, and a world filled with monsters disguised as humans. I need it, Quincy, because I have to know that I’m making a difference. F
or my family. For the world. And that means I need good people. People who’ve seen a world where the monstrous has taken root and have vowed to do something about it.” He drew a breath. “I think you’re one of those people.”
“Maybe I am. Maybe I’ve already done my share. More than my share.”
“I don’t doubt that you have.” His eyes were fixed on Nikki, but his mind was remembering the moment he’d learned that Anne had been taken. The icy horror that had enveloped him, and the way the entire world had turned black, blotted out by rage and despair. “I don’t doubt it,” he repeated softly. “But I hope you’ll do more.”
He needed Quincy. Needed Ryan and Denise and Liam and Antonio all the rest. He needed them because he couldn’t do it alone.
Couldn’t wave his arm and make the world over the way he wanted.
Couldn’t wipe away the dangers and destroy all the monsters.
Hell, he couldn’t even wipe the fear from his wife’s eyes.
But Stark Security? That, he could do.
And it was a damn good start.
Chapter Two
My arms are aching by the time I collapse to my knees, then fall on my back into the sand as I hug Anne to my chest, both of us laughing.
“More, Mommy! More swing! More swing!”
“You’ve worn me out,” I say, reaching down for a handful of wet sand to dribble on her back. Her fine blond hair is in eight ponytails all over her head, courtesy of her older sister, and her nose is turning red despite the constant slathering of sunscreen.
She’s wearing a yellow toddler two-piece decorated with pink fish, and she squeals when the Pacific-chilled sand touches her skin, then bursts into a fresh round of giggles before once again returning to her “More swing!” chorus.