Cassius, Stevens, Madison [moboreader txt] 📗

is all right. I figure I’m okay unless this is like in the movies, and you’re on the trail of some super-corrupt big company that’ll stop at nothing.”

Damned if that idea wasn’t far off from the truth. Julius was right. Claiming to be a security contractor would have invited fewer questions, but CJ wished he didn’t have to come up with a story at all. He was sick of hiding who he was, but he didn’t want to be like the Luna hybrids and not live among humans.

Lying was annoying enough. Deceiving his potential Vestal was almost painful. He preferred straightforward missions where he was pointed at a target and given orders to take it out. He didn’t pity Maximus having to take on the mantle of leadership.

None of that helped CJ. Kendra might not be interrogating him, but she wanted answers. The worry in her eyes gnawed at him.

CJ sucked in a breath and decided to settle on a half-truth. Inventing new lies wasn’t necessary.

“I’ve got no evidence anyone’s planning anything violent here,” CJ replied. He avoided looking her in the eyes by focusing on the obstacle behind her, an elaborate challenge that combined hand-over-hand climbing with a pivoting wheel, a sort of hellish take on monkey bars. “But, yeah, like I said, I’m investigating the place.”

“But if you found something like that you’d tell the police?” Kendra asked. “Like if they were storing piles of dynamite to sell to terrorists?”

“Piles of dynamite?” CJ laughed. “That’s what you’re worried about?”

Kendra shrugged and looked away. “I don’t know everything evil money-hungry companies do. I’m not the PI. I’m just the pretty face.”

“You’re a lot more than that,” CJ replied in a low voice.

Kendra’s lips parted. She didn’t respond as she stared at him, a mix of surprise and confusion on her face. CJ hadn’t intended the slick line. He also didn’t regret it.

He nodded. “I don’t want anyone to get hurt. I’m not going to pretend the people I’m investigating aren’t garbage and terrible scum, but they’ve got their own reasons to want to keep a low profile, and hurting people at a major sporting event isn’t a good way to do that. And I can honestly say I haven’t heard anything about piles of dynamite.”

Kendra let out a sigh of relief. “Okay then. I’ll stop worrying. I trust you.”

It was CJ’s turn to stare, his heart pounding. She didn’t have a reason to trust him, not really, unless some deep part of her soul told her to trust him.

He yearned to tell her the truth. Yearned to hear her reaction.

Kendra took a deep breath before gesturing toward another obstacle, a multi-lane high-angle curving slide where the athlete needed to catch different bars and transfer lanes for the quickest completion. “We’re almost to the end,” she said quietly.

“Seen anything you’re worried about for the event?” CJ asked, hoping to steer the conversation away from any concerns over violence and their own burning but distracting mutual attraction.

Kendra shook her head. “Some of these are new, but there’s nothing I can’t handle. I’m glad I checked them out early. Sometimes the smallest thing can trip you up on an obstacle. People think it’s enough to see other people go, but you really need to sleep on this kind of thing. Subconscious image training.”

“Is a day going to be enough time to train?” CJ asked.

“It’s not about training.” Kendra shrugged. “Training helps, and conditioning is a must, but a big part of completion is strategy.” She flexed her arm. “I’ve got the strength, stamina, and speed to win, and now I need to problem-solve these obstacles to bring home that victory.”

They moved closer to the obstacle. CJ surveyed the area, trying his best to look casual. He sniffed a couple of times, seeking any unusual scents, but the wash of different odors, both from people and equipment, made it difficult to pick up anything in particular. The same could be said for conversations.

A trio of men in hardhats stood together on the side of the slide obstacle. They were hunched over and speaking in whispered tones. A fourth man stood a couple yards away, his harsh eyes moving back and forth.

CJ kept them in his peripheral vision. He wrapped an arm around Kendra who smiled up at him. Though he enjoyed the warmth of her body on his arm, he was using her more for cover.

The fourth man bothered CJ. The build, the careful look, the expression, the position of his hands. It all screamed security or military training, not random construction worker. His hands and arms were behind his back in a parade rest position, though as if sensing CJ glancing at him, he dropped the hands.

A random mercenary wouldn’t naturally stand that way. It had to be someone with military experience, probably someone who’d only recently left the military.

Ouroboros was a small organization to the best of the hybrids’ knowledge. They’d be forced to supplement their security with mercenaries. Mercenary outfits and private military contractors relied heavily on ex-military for recruitment.

It could also mean nothing. The man could be a veteran who’d gotten out recently and gotten a job as a construction worker. It wasn’t like Ouroboros was the only organization on the planet with ex-military employees.

With Kendra chatting away about the obstacle, CJ used his arm on her shoulders to steer her subtly closer to the men. Getting nearer would allow his enhanced hearing to pick out their conversation despite the background chatter. His course would take him near the men at an angle that would feel natural, but have he and Kendra soon walking away. He hoped that would limit suspicion and reaction.

“And you’re sure everything’s finished?” one of the men whispered.

A second nodded. “We just have a few things left to install. We’ll do it tonight.”

The men stopped talking and looked toward CJ and Kendra. They stood up and offered the couple polite nods.

CJ nodded back. Kendra looked the side of the slide obstacle up and down,