Free Midnight Pursuits by Elle Kennedy Page A

notice that you’ve been keeping my gear near you at all times?”
    â€œFor my own protection,” he shot back. Then he set his mug on the small table between the two armchairs and bent over to unzip the duffel.
    When he pulled out a silver BlackBerry and held it up, she shook her head. “No, not that one. That’s my second phone.”
    He came up with a black Samsung Galaxy next.
    â€œNot that one either.”
    The corners of his mouth lifted in a wry smile. “Let me guess. That’s your third phone.”
    She shrugged as if to say
so what
?
    When Ethan retrieved an iPhone in a sturdy black case, she nodded. “Jackpot. The password is two-nine-three-seven. Go into the notes folder, under the tab ‘grocery list.’”
    Ethan’s fingers swept over the touch screen, his eyebrows drawn in concentration as he read the contents of Grechko’s hit list.
    â€œDid you vet the names yet?”
    â€œWhen would I have had time to vet them? I’ve been in an infection-induced stupor for the past couple of days. I was planning on asking Paige to check them out.”
    Ethan studied the screen, a deep frown creasing his mouth. “Okay. Well, it’ll be easy to gather intel about the nine dead targets, but they’re not our biggest concern.”
    â€œ
Our
concern? As in, we both have a vested interest in this?”
    He gave her a pointed look. “The three remaining names are the important ones. We have to track them down and warn them.”
    Juliet stared at him. “Why would we do that?”
    â€œBecause they have contracts out on their heads.” He shook his head, looking frazzled. “They’re in danger, Juliet. Don’t you think they need protection?”
    Oh, brother.
    What was it with Morgan’s crew and their need to save the damn world? Some of her own colleagues were the same way, Abby and Isabel, in particular, but for the life of her, she didn’t understand why they felt it was their duty to rescue every poor, victimized soul in their vicinity.
    â€œI’m not a bodyguard, kiddo.”
    â€œMy name is Ethan,” he cut in, steel in his voice.
    â€œSorry. I’m not a bodyguard,
rookie
. I’m not risking my neck for a bunch of strangers.”
    â€œBut you’ll risk your neck to kill Orlov?”
    She cocked her head. “Who says I’m planning to kill Orlov?”
    Ethan chuckled, deep and derisive. “You’re telling me you’re not going to get revenge on the man who’s responsible for your brother’s death? I didn’t even know you had a brother, by the way.”
    â€œThat’s because you don’t know me.” Aggravation clamped around her throat like a vise. “We don’t know each other, which means I don’t owe you any explanations or have an obligation to share my plans with you.”
    â€œYou don’t have to share a damn thing. I
know
you’re going after Orlov.” He released an aggravated breath. “And it looks like I’ll be going after Orlov’s targets.”
    â€œThere’s no reason for you to get involved. Once I eliminate Orlov, the targets will probably be safe.”
    â€œ
Probably
being the operative word. What if Orlov left orders for someone else to kill them if he dies? Or if he’s already hired another hit man to get rid of them?”
    She opened her mouth, prepared to argue about the utter stupidity of him getting mixed up in this insanity, but then she changed her mind. If Ethan wanted to stick his neck out for total strangers, let him. She had her own agenda, and she damn well intended to follow through on it.
    Orlov had killed Henry. She would kill Orlov. End of story.
    Except . . . aw, hell. Was that teeny pang in her stomach
guilt
?
    It’s not guilt. It’s pain. You got shot.
    Yeah, that was probably it. Of course she didn’t feel guilty. She had no reason to.
    â€œFine. Well,