The King (Gentlemen Rogues Book 1) Read online

  Tabs squared her shoulders then. “I'm going to kill him."

  “Don't bother. We can't have a trainee dying on our watch."

  “Fine. I'm going to kill him quietly."

  “I appreciate the sentiment, but Gabe apparently wants him alive."

  She shot me a bothered look then. Every bit my bestie. "Well, we're going to leave him alive, but we're going to make him rue the day. I still think maybe it's a misunderstanding and not the same guy. But in case it's not a misunderstanding, I'm going to help you torture him."

  “I appreciate it, but right now the problem is me, because I have to completely forget everything that happened. Or at least shove it down."

  “You know, I still really have that conceal-don't-feel notion on lockdown."

  I had to laugh at that as I pushed over her mug of hot cocoa. “I love you."

  “Yeah, I know you do. As for your brother, I intend to make him pay for punishing us because you wanted a little freedom. I have to figure out a way to make Gabe realize that's not the right course."

  “Good luck, because as you already know, Gabe listens to no one but himself."

  “You let me worry about Gabe. You worry about your trainee."

  It felt so unfair that I was being punished for a small indiscretion, and the punishment hardly fit the crime. I was being forced to train my one-night stand from three months ago. It really couldn't get much worse than that.

  Lachlan

  Nothing says I hate you quite like an arm bar around the neck.

  I attempted to remove my would-be assailant. Sidestep, strike to the groin, another sidestep, twisting and angling the body, pulling the arm right where I needed it. Left arm up over my head, finger under the chin, push up with the hips, and assailant down. Strike to the chest.

  Except when it came to the strike to the chest portion, I was slightly distracted by the chest I was about to strike. Saffron Abott, the most stunningly beautiful assailant I had ever seen in my life. So I hesitated. Which was my bad, because Saffron Abott was also one of the most skilled fighters here. And for such a little thing.

  Okay fine, she wasn't little. She was tall. Lithe. Athletic. But still curved in all the right places plenty enough to distract. When she swiped out and twisted her body on my own, hooking my leg, I missed it. And then I was careening face-first toward the ground.

  She wasted no time. She lunged on my back, using one of our plastic sparring knives and placing it against my neck so that the plastic would leave some of the ink that was on the edge to show that it was a strike.

  And then she was off. Probably because mounting me for her last strike was too much touching for her. With a grunt, I shoved myself to my feet and frowned. In our training room there were mirrors everywhere, so I could see the clean slice across my neck. I was dead.

  Motherfucker. What are you going to do in the field, asshole?

  I'd like to think that in the field I wouldn't be distracted, but fuck, if I couldn't manage this, knowing it was a test and that I was being evaluated, that wasn’t a good sign.

  I'd arrived at Rogues Division three months ago, my life completely turned upside down. One moment I was living a carefree lifestyle. Sure, there had been some scandals. But then the next thing I knew, I’d been black-bagged in my flat and turned up here. And I was given the Rogues rundown.

  The Rogues started a hundred years ago to do the work governments were too strung up to perform, blah, blah. Training would be six months, blah, blah. If I had the skill set, I’d become a Rogues agent, blah, blah. If I didn't, I'd be spat back out into my life exactly where I'd been taken from it.

  That was what I wanted. At least it was what I thought I wanted, to return to normal. I'd gone through the motions, done the training, learned to fight, learned strategy, learned tactical maneuvers. I'd been in decent shape before I got here, but the kind of shape I was in now didn't come from the gym and a trainer shouting at you five times a week. These muscles were survival muscles.

  The problem was that the life I'd had before seemed so far away. Another whistle dragged me out of my reverie, and I knew what that meant. It meant Saffron Abott had taken another victim. I studied her across the way as she stood with her arms behind her back, gaze on her next victim. We called him Rook, Westin Rourke, and he was a kid. At twenty-five, I was young, but he looked barely nineteen, maybe twenty.

  He'd only been here two weeks, but he'd already progressed so quickly that he was training with me now. His hand-to-hand wasn't as smooth or as good, but he was scrappy. He knew how to fight, and he was a survivor. He'd made his way through a three- year study course at Cambridge in a year and a half and only missed graduation by two weeks because someone had finally caught on to his con.

  He was a grade hacker with a photographic memory, sharp wit, and the kind of smile that made people, especially women, want to take care of him. But the Rogues had busted him and brought him here because they were in need of a hacker, a good one, and Rook was thriving.

  Then there was Saint. He was affable. A real mate to me. Former SAS. But there was something about him that was hidden away, a part of himself he never showed.

  Saffron was standing in front of Rook with her head cocked, braid sliding over one shoulder as she tilted her head, studying her next victim.

  Saint leaned over. “You keep looking at her like you want to eat her, and Gabe will have your head."

  I shook my head. “I don't want to eat her. I want to know why she hates me. She's just a trainer, that's it."

  Saint chuckled. “Yeah, if you say so."

  I slid my gaze over to him and saw that he wore several of Saffron Abott’s strike marks too. Across his shirt, through his arms. She'd given him the essence of a Columbian necktie, slashed from ear to ear and down under his chin to his sternum. Fucking hell.

  Saint lifted his chin. “Yeah, she's savage. Why do you reckon she's not in the field?"

  I shook my head. "She's certainly good enough, deadly enough, probably. And somebody told me she wanted to be a field agent, but she’s always held back in some kind of way. There is a restraint in her."

  “Eyes off her arse, mate, if you like your balls where they are. Webb will castrate you.”

  I scowled over at Gabriel Webb. He was in charge of the Rogues Division and gave the final word on which of us were graduating to field status, which of us didn't make the cut and were headed home, and which of us were getting retraining. He was the man in charge.

  The whistle blew again, and I was surprised to see Rook mostly on his feet. He looked at Saffron and grinned. “I'm alive."

  She angled her head and shook it. "Not quite. You might want to check your back."

  He groaned and turned his back to me. "Mate, tell me it's not so bad."

  There was a slash mark from the back of his neck all the way down along his spine. I winced. "Aw mate, you might live, but you won't be able to walk."

  He cursed.

  Saffron shrugged. "Each of you made a mistake with me. Especially you, King."

  I liked her calling me King. She could be my queen. And we could—

  I slammed those mental images down, because shit, they were too vivid. Ever since I'd met her, I kept having these mental flashbacks. Vivid dreams of me and her in my flat and combusting in the damn sheets, over and over. And obviously it wasn't real. Because, well, she hated me. Besides, I'd never met her before coming here, so I knew my overactive imagination was going wild and getting in the way.

  "What do you mean, especially me?"

  “You hesitated. Your gaze was on my tits."

  I heard Saint chuckle. Rook just laughed out loud. And Gabe scowled. Of course, he scowled.

  “I was just looking for the best angle to strike at."

  She rolled her eyes and turned to Saint. “You pulled your punches."

  He frowned. “You're smaller than I am. I'm happy to spar, but I just don't want to hurt you."

  “Yeah, and you died for it. As for you," she turned her attention to Rook, “You played it well. You played dirty. You're inventive, but you underestimated me."

  He grunted and nodded.

  "The three of you need to realize that out in the field the enemy could look like a twelve-year-old girl. You don't know the scenarios you're walking into. You've had accelerated training, and some of you will need more. Some of you will become field agents, but if we put you out in the field, you can't do what you did today.

  I ground my teeth, glancing at Gabe as he jotted notes down. He gave us all a sharp nod and then dismissed us. Across the room, I watched our other evaluator, the curvy redhead, Tabatha Smith. The lads on that side of the room were having an even more difficult time. There was one female trainee though, and she didn't seem to have that issue. She was out for blood, and Jesus, she was a killer. Had no problem going after Tabatha.

  Tabatha was smaller, quicker, and obviously, more trained, but her trainee was giving her a run for her money. Which was good, since all the men were distracted by her. We were going to have to check our misogyny if we wanted to pass this bullshit. If I wanted to go home, I was going to have to get it together.

  Saint clapped me on the back. "Let's go get some food."

  I didn't know what possessed me, but as I walked by her, I could feel Saffron stiffen, and I couldn't help but ask, "Any other pointers for me?"

  “Work harder,” she said.

  “Okay, maybe something more specific? What do you say maybe we grab a bite to eat, and you give me some pointers? Or are you a robot and don't eat?"

  Her smile was beatific. “I know you don't like being beaten by a girl, but you'll have to get over it. I'm just better than you are."

  I blinked rapidly. "That's not what this is. I was just inviting feedback. You’re meant to be training me."

  “You think you're just making an invitation. I get it. But you don’t listen, so why waste my time? You can’t ruffle me, King."

  “I do like how you say King."

  "The only capacity you will ever hear me say King in is as your trainer while I'm kicking your arse and trying to make you into anything other than a billionaire baby with a bad attitude."

  I stiffened at that. "Well, tell me how you really feel."

  She sighed. "Look, it's not personal."

  “It feels personal. Go ahead and tell me. Why do you hate me so much?"

  "Mr. King, your mistake is in assuming that I think about you at all. I don't."

  I could hear the words she was saying, but the way her gaze flickered to my lips said otherwise. And it made the blood in my veins run hot and liquid. I leaned in, not too close, but just enough so only she could hear me. “You like me. You just don't want to like me. That sounds like a you problem."

  "My only problem is overgrown children who think they matter to me at all."

  I grinned. “I'm wearing you down. Might as well give in, because everyone likes me."

  "Aw, then you should prepare for disappointment. Your first rejection. I am so happy to be able to pop that cherry."

  I blinked as she sauntered out of the room, and Saint and Rook ran over and jabbed me in the ribs. Rook was cackling. "Oh God, the two of you. Why do you keep trying to rile her? She's stone cold."

  “It's fun."

  Saint just chuckled. "Maybe your ego can take that beating, but mine could not. You should give up, because even if she gave you the time of day, Gabe would kill you."

  I nodded. “I'm not touching her. But mark my words, before this is all said and done, she will like me."

  Saint shook his head. “If you insist."

  I did. Everyone liked me. What would I be willing to do to make her like me?

  5

  LACHLAN

  I watched Saff intently. My new trainer who refused to train me.

  She and Tabatha were sitting in front of our current training class, which included myself, Saint, Robert, Maxim, and Rook.

  And now it looked like we were all about to get the training of a lifetime.

  Tabatha stepped forward. "We are going to test your tracking ability, your ability not to lose a target and to stay on point. We will be trying this on the Rogues campus first and then in the real world. In the real world, there will be a lot more obstacles. But that does not mean that you can believe everything you see on campus. Saff here will be your rabbit. Your job is to find her before your fellow competitors. While you are allowed to engage in hand-to-hand, you will not be getting live weapons. No real knives or guns, but you will have tranq darts and"—she held up one of the plastic knives that we often used—“these. You'll each return and then your markings will be tracked with this." She held up what looked like a light scanner, which she turned on, and we could see that she was completely marked up with pop song lyrics. She had one across her back that read Give me more. Next to her, Saff snickered but mostly kept her composure.

  Tabatha continued. "There's no pretending you weren't hit or marked. You just better hope it wasn't fatal, because you will be docked points. The goal is to catch the rabbit, bring it back safe and sound, alive and unharmed. Saff's directive is to make sure you don't catch her, but if you do, to take herself out. So you will need to sneak up on her and restrain her."

  Why did my blood hum at that?

  Rook asked, "And what if we're captured by her?"

  Tabatha grinned at him. “I like how you think. She is very, very good. If you are captured by her, that's an automatic dock. If she comes back with you in restraints, it's an automatic extra month of training."

  We all groaned at that. There was no fucking way she was bringing me back. Saff's gaze flickered to mine. Was that a smirk?

  Jesus Christ, she thought she was capturing me? The hell she was. I just had to be smarter than yesterday. She’d caught me by surprise. Fool me once, shame on you. Fool me twice, never going to happen.

  Tabatha was still talking. "Saff will get a head start of ten minutes. Remember, Saff is one of the most well-trained Rogue agents. If she doesn't want you to see her, you won't. So beware of the path that looks too easy. I'll say it again… Beware of the path that looks too easy. She is very, very good."

  Saff grinned. She packed on her gear and turned. “Don't worry gentlemen, I'll take it easy on you."

  Maxim and Robert were laughing. Maxim said, “You're going to beg me to take it easy on you."

  The urge to throw my fist through his face was overwhelming. Tabatha turned around to sneer at them. “I hope she hands you your balls."

  I couldn't help the chuckle that escaped, and her gaze snapped to me. And then her eyes went wide and she had the same confused look that Saff had gotten the other day when she first saw me. But unlike Saff, she didn't say anything. She just gave me a sharp nod and handed us all our weapons.

  I generally had no problem with Maxim and Robert. They were lad's lads. Generally good blokes, but I didn't like how they talked about Saff, so I was going to have to watch out for them.

  Stop watching out for her and watch out for yourself.

  We were all watching the timer. Saff had headed east on the property toward the tree line, and Jesus, she was fast.

  Tabs stood back with a smile. "Did I mention she holds Britain's under-seventeen record for the half mile? I should probably have warned you. She's going to be long gone by the time you lot get after her."

  Next to me, Saint rocked on the balls of his feet as he watched the clock. Two minutes. I double-checked my pack and then grabbed an extra bottle of water because she might need one when I found her.

  Isn't that sweet?

  I didn't fucking know. I packed it anyway.

  Saint smirked at me. “You think you'll be out of breath, do you?"

  "This is a test. I don't know how long it lasts, but it’s probably always a good idea to have an extra water. I'm sure there's water to be found in there, but I don't know if it's drinkable or not, so I'm planning ahead."

  Saint watched me with renewed interest then. As if it had just suddenly occurred to him that I might be good at this. “You said you didn't have any training, right?"

  I shook my head. “No, it just seems to make sense. Besides, everything I’ve learned so far while being here has taught me that it never hurts to be overprepared.”

  The clock buzzed, and we all went running. None of us stupid enough to go really fast except Rook. He ran straight ahead of us. Sprinting really. Which concerned me. Did he know something we didn't?

  I didn't have to be the first in, but I did have to be first to her. Which I planned to be. I just needed these other jokers to stay the fuck out of my way.

  Saint matched my pace and tempo, so we reached the woods together. He searched the ground and frowned when he found footprints.

  “Did you think it would be that easy?"

  He shook his head. "No, but I'd hoped. And if she’s as good as Tabatha said, she's probably also a climber."

  My gaze automatically flickered to the trees, but I moved further into the forest, avoiding Maxim and Robert. Rook was already way ahead somewhere, rushing about. Saint put out his fist, and I bumped it with mine. "See you on the other side."

  "To the victor go the spoils."

  Which made me think of Maxim and Robert. I did not want to think about them having spoils with Saff. I tried to keep my brain focused. The further I stepped into the woods, the more hyperaware I was that I might be underprepared for this. I stopped and finally opened up my pack. Inside, I found a compass, the water, and a knife. I put the knife in the sheath at my belt and held the compass. That way, at least, I wouldn't get turned around.

  Somewhere to my left, I heard someone scream. And then they went silent. Oh fuck. I didn't know what games these were, but it would serve me well to be on red alert.

  I'd been walking through the patch of forest for twenty minutes when a scent on the air caught my attention. Roses. I checked the wind and headed north where the scent had come from.