Page 109 of Duty Devoted
The storm outside was getting worse, rain lashing against the windows. But inside, we were safe. Protected. Together.
“Dr. Valentino?” The ambassador’s daughter stirred, looking better already. “Thank you. For coming to get me. For making sure I was okay.”
“It’s what we do,” I told her. “We help people. We keep them safe. We bring them home.”
Logan’s hand tightened in mine at the words.Home. Such a simple concept that had taken us both so long to understand. It wasn’t a place—not Chicago or Denver or even Ethan’s ranch. It was this. The work that mattered. The people who stood by you. The love that survived everything the world threw at it.
The plane flew on through the storm, carrying us toward whatever mission came next. And for the first time in my life, I was exactly where I belonged.
Bonus Epilogue
Ty Hughes
Four months & three days after Corazón…
“—andthe molecular structure breaks down at exactly 47.3 degrees Celsius, which means we need to maintain?—”
“Doc.” I leaned against the lab’s doorframe, watching Charlotte’s hands fly across the keyboard. “You realize you’ve been talking to that computer for the past twenty minutes?”
She jumped, spinning in her chair so fast her elbow knocked over a rack of test tubes. My hand shot out, catching them before they hit the floor. Four months post-Corazón, and my shoulder only protested a little at the sudden movement. Progress.
“I wasn’t talking to the computer.” Pink crept up her neck as she adjusted her lab coat. “I was...verbally processing data parameters.”
“Is that what we’re calling it?” I set the test tubes back in their rack, closer than strictly necessary. She backed up until her chair hit the desk. “Because from where I stood, it sounded like you were sweet-talking that antiviral compound.”
“That’s not—I don’t sweet-talk—” She pushed her glasses up her nose, a tell I’d noticed meant she was flustered. “The Phoenix Protocol antidote requires precise temperature control during synthesis. It’s basic thermodynamics.”
“Mmm-hmm.” I reached past her for the coffee mug on her desk, letting my arm brush hers. She went rigid. “This coffee’s cold, Charlotte. When’s the last time you took a break?”
“Breaks reduce productivity by 23.7 percent when working with time-sensitive compounds.”
“Eating?”
“I had a protein bar.” She gestured vaguely at her trash can. “Yesterday. Or maybe Tuesday. What day is it?”
“Thursday.” I set the mug down, frowning. “And knowing the day is exactly why Ethan pays me the big bucks. Come on, we’re getting real food.”
“I can’t leave. The centrifuge cycle completes in—” she checked her watch “—seventeen minutes, and then I need to analyze the separation gradient before the proteins denature.”
“Seventeen minutes.” I pulled out my phone. “Perfect. I’ll have Jace hack the building’s fire alarm system. Nothing says ‘lunch break’ like a mandatory evacuation.”
Her eyes went wide behind her glasses. “You wouldn’t.”
“Try me.” I waggled the phone. “Logan’s still recovering from his Guatemala run, which means I’m bored. And when I’m bored, I make questionable decisions. Ask anyone at Citadel.”
“That’s... That’s blackmail.”
“That’s negotiation. Fifteen minutes for food, then you can come back and whisper sweet nothings to your test tubes.”
She bit her lip, and I tried not to find it distracting. Failed miserably. Two weeks of protection detail, and Dr. Charlotte Gifford had gotten under my skin in ways I hadn’t anticipated. The way she forgot to eat when absorbed in her work. How she unconsciously sang Broadway tunes when she thought shewas alone. The fact that she could recite chemical formulas like poetry but couldn’t order coffee without stammering.
“Ten minutes,” she countered. “And we eat in the cafeteria.”
“Deal.” I stepped back, giving her space. “But I’m buying, and you’re getting something that isn’t beige.”
She stood, smoothing her lab coat. “Beige foods are typically high in essential carbohydrates.”
“Doc, one of these days I’m going to introduce you to the food pyramid that doesn’t involve molecular structures.”
