Protective Measures

“Don’t worry about me.” Leo’s voice was a deep, gruff whisper in her ear. “I don’t have anything worth stealing, and definitely nothing that a vigilante would argue doesn’t belong to me. Thank you for everything.”

He hoisted her up. Other hands were reaching down for her. She stepped up onto Leo’s shoulder and grabbed onto one of the outstretched hands. A police officer pulled her up onto the ledge.

“Are you alright, miss?” a paramedic asked. There was a light in her still sensitive eyes. He took her arm and started leading her toward a bank of ambulances.

“I’m fine, thank you.” She pulled away.

The paramedic let her go without an argument. She wasn’t surprised considering the scene. Firefighters and emergency service personnel were trying to corral people, put out the fire and check for injuries. Party guests rambled around the gardens, ignoring orders and trying to take pictures on their phones.

She’d learned as a teenager that whenever there was a spectacle there’d be two different types of people running around. There were those who watched the show and those who kept people safe. Back then she’d been the spectacle, the fire, the flashy and fierce marital arts and gymnastics competitor who people cheered for loudly when she won and booed at when it all came to an end. But she’d known, even then, what kind of person she wanted to be. She wanted to be the one who protected people and rescued them from the metaphorical flames.

The crowd parted and she saw Leo hauling himself over the ledge. He stood on the edge of the rocks, with the fire to his right, the darkness to his left and the river swirling behind him. Her breath caught in her throat. He was rugged, strong and dashing in a way she’d thought only movie stars could be. Yet as his eyes scanned the crowd, something deep inside his gaze almost looked wounded, too.

Lord, protect him and help him. I don’t know what he wasn’t telling me or why he brushed off my questions. Or why my gut’s telling me that he was The Anemoi’s intended target.

The Anemoi had gotten its name from a group of deadly winds, and somehow the castle fire felt like the first rumble of thunder that warned of an approaching storm. Something big was coming. Something devastating and dangerous. And she just couldn’t shake the feeling that Leo Darius was going to be right in the center of that storm.

People pushed past her. Voices babbled around her, fading into white noise. Still her eyes were locked on Leo’s form. He’d come for her. He’d carried her in his arms. He’d leaped through the air to save them both. She’d trusted him with the truth about her job at Ash Private Security and about The Anemoi. But he hadn’t trusted her in return.

“Excuse me! Ma’am.” The Irish voice was smooth behind her and his hand touched her shoulder so suddenly she nearly jumped out of her skin. She flinched, her whole body pulling away as she turned. It was him, Killian, the same creep who used to skulk around the edges of martial arts competitions hitting on the female competitors, until one day, when he’d snuck up behind her, she’d wielded around and elbowed him in the face on live television, ending her competitive career. “Are you the woman who Commander Darius rescued from the fire?”

She nearly choked. He didn’t recognize her. She didn’t know if it was just because of the odd way the combination of the night, the flames and emergency beams played tricks with light and shadows. Or if it was because of how disheveled she was from the fire and the lake.

But she couldn’t shake the thought that maybe he’d actually forgotten her. That despite everything she’d lost by elbowing him in the face, she’d been nothing but an insignificant and forgettable blip in his life.

Even though she’d never forgotten his face.

“No comment.” Zoe didn’t meet his eye and turned away, hoping not to jog his memory.

“No comment?” he pressed. “How can you have no comment? Either you’re the woman he rescued or you’re not.”

“Sorry, I’ve got to go.” She persisted through the crowd, searching the sea of emergency vehicles for the plain black Ash Security van.

Killian kept following her. She could hear his voice as sharp and direct as arrows shooting after her. “At least, tell me your name. Who are you?”

“I’m nobody.” She disappeared into the crowd. She was nobody now. She liked it that way. One brief intense encounter in a moment of danger with the daring Commander Leo Darius wasn’t about to change that.

* * *

The Ottawa River raged and surged as it flowed through Canada’s capital city, past beautiful historical buildings and stately monuments. Leo walked with his daughters down a path that ran alongside one of the river’s branches as it flowed into a canal. His mind swirled like the water. It was Tuesday, the morning after the fire. Thankfully no one had been hurt, the symposium was continuing as usual and the informant had left another untraceable robotic message on Leo’s phone line saying the intel was still up for sale but the price had just gone up. But an early morning phone call from Admiral Jacobs’s secretary had sent everything into chaos. The admiral had been in a terrible car accident on the way to work and was now in the hospital. Leo had no way to get the admiral’s advice on whether he should continue with the mission, no idea who could’ve tipped The Anemoi off to the informant’s existence and no one else inside naval intelligence he knew he could trust. He was on his own. His eyes rose to the sky in prayer. I just don’t know what to think. I don’t know what to do. Guide me. I need backup and I don’t know how to get it.

“Can I get ice cream?” Eve’s voice broke into his thoughts. Bright blue eyes looked up hopefully into his. Her tiny hand slipped into his large one and squeezed it, very hard, like she was double-checking he was really there. “Or can I climb a tree?”

There was something so real and genuine about his littlest girl’s smile.

Thank You, God, for my daughters. Help me be the father they need me to be. Help me raise them and protect them.

“You can’t climb a tree in flip-flops,” he said. “But we can see about ice cream later.”

Eve squeezed his hand hard one more time. Then she scampered off to join her sister, Ivy, who was now walking alone up the path ahead of them. Ivy had been a little girl on his last visit home. Now, at twelve, she was almost a teenager, with long hair as dark as his and eyes that tended to glance sideways at the world. He watched as Eve nudged her big sister in the side. Ivy threw her arm protectively around Eve’s shoulders. It was hard to know how much the strained mess that was his marriage to their mother had impacted them, but he knew they missed her. He missed Marisa, too, in a much more complicated way. Late at night, her painful words to him still echoed in the empty recesses of his chest: “I tried to love you, Leo. I really did. You’re just not the kind of man who’s easy to love.” But she’d stayed married to him, accepted politeness instead of romance, made a bed for him on the couch whenever he was home on leave and given him two beautiful daughters. He’d always be thankful for that.

“This isn’t really a normal walk, Eve,” Ivy said, in a conspiratorial tone that was so loud she had to know that he would be able to hear it. “Daddy is meeting someone. But it’s a secret meeting.”

Eve gasped, a sound that was thankfully all excitement and intrigue, not worry. Leo almost stopped short. How could she possibly know that? Josh had phoned his cell before the sun had risen this morning to suggest they meet up. Josh’s tone had been friendly, but there’d been a current cutting through it that had let him know it was important. Leo kept his voice level. “Why do you say that, honey?”

“I’m right, aren’t I?” Ivy tossed a glance back over her shoulder. A slight smile turned at her lips, her keen eyes flashed and he realized that she’d been guessing. She was a smart kid and perceptive, too. Neither of which helped the gnawing feeling he got in his gut sometimes that Ivy was bothered about something she still didn’t trust him enough to open up about.

His cell phone buzzed. He reached for it hoping it was the admiral. Instead it was a text from a number with an Irish area code.

Hey Commander, it’s Killian Lynch. Any news on the identity of your mystery woman? My message board’s been pinging nonstop from other women asking me if you’re single!

He frowned. Killian’s tabloid story on the fire had been posted online before the fire had even been put out and included a blurry photo of Leo falling through the air with Zoe in his arms. The post and picture had “gone viral,” which apparently meant it was now spreading around the internet like a plague. He had no intention of blowing Zoe’s privacy. He’d lost sight of the dark-haired beauty in the crowd after the fire. But he hadn’t been able to get her out of his mind since.

A second text arrived: A woman named Melody Young asked me to pass on her name and number. She’s an old friend of your wife. Had lost contact and misses your girls. Wanted to send her condolences and set up a playdate.

The strains on his marriage to Marisa had meant he didn’t really know much about her life. While his transfer home to Ottawa had meant the girls had to move to a new house and new school, Theresa had told him the more connections the girls had to their past the more grounded they’d feel.

This is her. Said I’d pass it on to help the girls remember her.

Another text came in before he could answer. It was a picture of a beautiful, blond-haired woman holding a toddler on her lap. He looked closer. The child was Eve.

Leo texted back: Thank you.

No problem, came back the reply. Ready to go over that stuff I uncovered online yet? The story can’t stay on ice forever.

No. Leo slid his phone into his pocket without answering. He followed a path and reached a small park. His eyes surveyed the scene. Josh sat on a bench by the water. Alex stood nearby with his back to the street. The location was pretty isolated and yet still close to the road, with good lines of sight. He could only spot two ordinary civilians in the park. One was a well-dressed mother with auburn curls who was pushing a stroller along the riverbank. The other was an older man with a small white puppy, ambling through an outcrop of trees. Neither looked like anyone he’d need to worry about. The tiny ball of puppy fluff started to pull and scrabble on all four paws toward Ivy and Eve. The girls squealed and cooed, and begged Leo to let them go pat it.

But all of that was eclipsed by the site of the petite, dark-haired woman walking toward him. She was dressed simply, in jeans and a tank top that showed off the strength in her arms. Her skin was free of makeup. A simple elastic held back her hair, letting only a few wisps escape and fall around her face. She was even more dazzling than he’d remembered.

“Hey,” she said. “How’s it going?”

“Not bad,” he said. “You?”

“I’m okay.” Her dark eyes met his and it was like everything else faded to static around him. There was something about her that hit him like a punch in the gut. An attraction? A feeling? He didn’t know what to call it. But it was like someone had attached jumper cables to the dusty remnants of his heart and was trying to jolt it into beating again.

“Daddy!” Eve said. “Can we go see the puppy? Please?”

“It’s okay,” Zoe said, stepping forward. “I’m happy to watch the girls. I know you and Josh need to talk. We’ll stay right around here within eyesight.”

Her hand brushed her ear and he saw she was wearing a tiny earpiece. Apparently she’d be staying within earshot, too.

“Please, Daddy? Can we go with her?” Eve’s bright eyes brimmed with hope.

“Okay.” He hated having the girls beyond arm’s length. But he trusted she’d keep them safe, and maybe putting a few feet of distance between himself and Zoe would help keep the jumper-cable jolts at bay. “Zoe, these are my daughters, Ivy and Eve. Girls, this is my friend Zoe. She’s really nice and is going to watch you while I talk to my friend Josh. I want you to be very polite and stay where I can see you.”

Ivy’s skeptical eyes flitted to Zoe’s face. Zoe stretched out her hand toward Leo’s eldest. “It’s very nice to meet you, Ivy.”

“I like your bracelet.” Ivy eyed her hand.