May Contain Spies: A Spy Thriller (Meet Abby Banks Book 1) Read online

  “Well, that was fun.” Stephen’s voice echoed in the sewer like we were in an ancient cavern. “That wasn’t exactly how I envisioned today going.”

  “Oh?” I murmured and before I could stop myself, blurted out. “How did you expect it to go?”

  I felt his hand grow warm, and somehow, I knew he was blushing. He let me go rather suddenly and took a step forward into the murk.

  “Not like this,” he mumbled. His voice had lost that strange confidence it’d had during the gunfight. I watched him fumble with something and a beam of light pierced the darkness. His flashlight was so bright in the gloom that I had to shield my eyes from it.

  “We need to keep moving or they’ll catch us,” he added before taking a few steps away from me. Evidently, he felt safer with at least a foot between us. If my mom could see us now she’d laugh. Then she’d get a ruler to make sure we stayed at least twelve inches apart at all times. Then again… maybe she wasn’t my mom… but if she wasn’t, who had watched me all these years?

  Still, there were men with guns trying to shoot me. That hadn’t happened to me before. Nothing like this should have happened to me either. That left the only logical solution to be the one the crazy guy at the diner had proposed. My mother was an all-powerful genie and someone wanted to kidnap me because of it.

  But… if my mom wasn’t Esmeralda Banks, who was my mom? I glanced behind me and shuddered. I don’t know if knowing more was better than knowing nothing in this case, but I was suddenly lost in a sea of questions with no way to anchor myself… and I was treading through a sewer with some kind of James Bond.

  “What the hell is going on, Stephen?” I said. “I just got shot at. Shot at! I’ve never even seen a gun before and now there are people shooting at me. Then there’s you and you’re all like ‘oh look I’m a super spy here to rescue you.’” I paused taking a deep breath. “What the hell am I supposed to think? How do I even know you’re one of the good guys?”

  “Abby…” Stephen’s voice hit me like a cool breath in the damp sewer. I glanced at him and found him staring at me, his glacial eyes sparkling even in the darkness. “You need to calm down,” he added, putting his hands up in one of those universal I surrender gestures.

  “Calm down?” I said, barely keeping the edge out of my voice. “I will do no such thing!”

  “Look, if you keep making noise, the guys shooting at you will find us. I don’t know about you, but I’d rather that not happen,” he replied, smirking at me, in what I think was an attempt to use his charm on me.

  I shook my head. “That’s not going to work, Stephen. You can’t charm your way out of this. Some guy just told me I’m adopted by a person who lied to me my whole life. He said my real mom was trying to use a terrorist army to come kidnap me.” I narrowed my eyes at him. “And then there’s you. Some guy who showed up out of nowhere and saved my life.”

  “Abby, if you trust me, I will continue to save your life and keep you safe,” he replied, looking away from me and staring off down the tunnel. “What do you say? Will you trust me to keep you safe?”

  I wanted to tell him no. I wanted to scream it at him… but I didn’t. Why? Because a man with a gun had tried to kidnap me, and Stephen had rescued me. Sure, it could all be part of Stephen’s plan to make me trust him, and if it was, well it was working because I didn’t see any other options. What was I supposed to do? Go back on the surface where people were shooting at me?

  “Abby?” he said, his voice startling me.

  I glanced at him and tried to ignore how angry I was at him and the kidnappers for putting me in this situation. “Yes?”

  “I’m sure you have a lot of questions.” He watched me, not the path ahead of us, mind you, but me as we walked along. “I don’t really have a lot of answers, but suffice to say, I am on your team.”

  “What team is that?” I asked.

  “Team I-don’t-want-Abby-Banks-shot-in-the-head.”

  “I like that team.” The words sort of tumbled out of my mouth like a spilled box of crayons. “I think everyone should be on that team.”

  “If everyone was,” he said with a smile and pointed at his chest, “I’d be out of a job. And I trained a long time to get onto this detail. From the first time I saw your picture, I knew I had to be the one to guard you. Something told me that if someone else guarded you, you would die.”

  I gulped and tried to steel myself. It was a little weird to have such dark banter about my possible execution for being the daughter of a yet unnamed super-powerful woman.

  “Well…” I swallowed again. “I’m glad you’re here. But… why are you here now? No one had bothered me for the last sixteen years.”

  His face turned red again, and I could tell he didn’t want to tell me. That was fine. I’d let him keep his secrets for now. As much as I wanted to know, I also wanted to not get shot in the head because I’d distracted my bodyguard.

  “Never mind,” I said after a moment of awkward silence. “But I really hope you have some kind of plan. You aren’t just playing it by ear are you?”

  “I have the sewers committed to memory, and we’re on the way to meet your handler.” He tapped his head and smiled at me, but it didn’t seem quite as reassuring as it should have. “Unfortunately, no other plans have been made. We weren’t expecting them to come after you for another couple months.”

  “Why is that?” I asked.

  “If you really want to know,” he turned and took one of my hands in his, “I’ll tell you. But I think you’d be happier if you didn’t know.”

  “Well… I’ll trust your judgment then,” I replied, trying to smile at him. He turned away from me but didn’t stop holding my hand. I don’t know how he did it but just that simple touch made me feel safe, bullet-proof even. Maybe it was because I was pretty sure that Stephen would protect me, or worse, die trying. I didn’t know why I thought that, for all I knew he was a crazy axe-murderer taking me to his underground axe-murdering lair.

  I smiled to myself. That would be a great headline. Lisa would laugh too. “Abby Banks found axe-murdered in underground sewer lair. Sources say that Ms. Banks made googly-eyes as she followed her captor down to her death.”

  “We’re here,” Stephen said a few minutes later. His voice carried with it a sense of finality. It was like the period at the end of a sentence. The way he said it, he might as well have said, “the end.”

  I shook my head and took a deep breath. We were standing in front of a metal door that looked like it had spent about a decade at the bottom of the ocean. Rusty orange cracks crisscrossed its entire surface. A big valve wheel was perched precariously in the center. It might have been riveted to the door at one time, but now there were just rusty holes where the rivets had been.

  “Are you sure you can open that?” I asked. Stephen’s eyebrows twitched in confusion, and I hastily added, “It just seems like it will fall apart if you touch it.”

  A smile crept across his lips, and just the sight of it warmed me. For a moment, we weren’t being chased by gun-carrying psycho killers. No… for a moment there was just Stephen and his gorgeously soft-looking lips. I swallowed, my mouth having gone dry as I put my hand against the wall to steady myself.

  “Appearances can be deceiving, mon petite chou,” he said, his smile melting into an eerie smirk as he turned back toward the door. He grabbed the wheel on the door with both hands and tugged, which seemed to be completely the wrong thing to do. Aren’t you supposed to turn those kinds of things?

  There was a loud crack, and for a moment I thought we were being shot at again. I dropped down to my knees, covering my head with my hands. That’s when I heard Stephen laughing.

  I looked up and found myself staring at an empty space where the door had been only seconds before.

  “You’ve got to be kidding me,” I gasped as he took my hand in his and led me through the door.

  Standing before us was some kind of god. Long platinum blond hair flowed down across a bac
k so well-muscled that I could tell he was ripped beneath his white-collared shirt. Whoever he was had been standing at one of those water dispensers with the big jug of water on the top. As we stepped further into the room, he turned toward us, wiping his mouth with the bottom corner of his shirt.

  “You brought the girl?” the guy asked as he flung himself down onto one of those green balls that people in exercise commercials use for crunches and put on a pair of black, emo-nerd glasses. They were so thick that they actually seemed to magnify his bright green eyes, making it seem like two gigantic gold-flecked emeralds were staring at me.

  Behind him was an absolute wall of technology. All kinds of things whirred and blinked, and about sixteen computer screens stared at me from all around the room. This place was definitely a techie’s wet dream.

  “Yeah. We ran into a bit of trouble along the way.” Did Stephen’s voice have an edge to it? I glanced at him and for the first time, noticed how clammy his hand had become. His face was covered in a sheen of sweat, and if I didn’t know better, I’d say he was nervous. Surely Stephen, who waded through a bunch of rocket-wielding bad guys with little more than a casual smile, wouldn’t be scared of this guy.

  “Aww…” the man said as he ran a hand through his shimmering hair, a predatory gleam in his bright emerald eyes. He bolted to his feet so suddenly that I leapt back. He moved toward me so fast that I could barely make him out even though my senses went on high alert the instant he’d started moving. I backed myself against the wall, feeling the cold press of the damp stone through my shirt. I gulped once and shut my eyes, trying to brace myself for the inevitable attack. Only it didn’t.

  Very slowly, very cautiously, I opened one eye. The blond was standing there, head so close to the ground that it very nearly touched the floor as his body held a sweeping bow. He was as unmoving as a statue as I opened my other eye and stared at him open-mouthed, unsure of what, exactly, I was supposed to be doing right about now.

  “Mademoiselle, we have not had the honor of meeting as of yet,” he said, rising to his feet and taking my hands in his. “But I assure you, that is something I plan to correct.” His lips were so close to my hands that the warmth of his words danced on my flesh, which I’ll admit, was a little creepy. I mean, I barely knew him, and here he was, acting so… so… I don’t even know. Didn’t he realize I’d just been shot at?

  He stood, swinging me around until I was bowed backward in a strange sort of dip, his body pressed against mine. His eyes loomed there, mere inches from mine, our lips so close that I was sure he was about to kiss me. That thought scared the hell out of me, and I shoved at him, flailing wildly in his grip.

  “Let me go!” I shouted as he peered into my eyes, not saying anything, not moving as he held us in this strange position. “Please…” I whispered, shutting my eyes, steeling myself for whatever he was going to do to me. In that moment, my body spun as he flung me around, my body moving under his direction until I had my back to him.

  His chest pressed against my back as he leaned in, his breath was warm on my neck. His lips so close that they very nearly nipped at my flesh as he spoke. “I am Donovan DeMarco.” He spun me back around until we were facing each other and dipped into another low bow. “Stephen’s boss.”

  I turned bright crimson. I had become so caught up in Donovan’s little show, I’d completely forgotten Stephen even existed. Anger surged through me as I glanced around for Stephen. Why hadn’t he done something? Why had he let Donovan manhandle me like that?

  Stephen stood near the door, a strange look in his eyes that made me think he didn’t like it any more than I had. I took a step toward him, not sure what I was going to do when Donovan spoke up behind me.

  “Maybe we can get back to business if you’re all through being distracting?” Donovan said as he flopped back down on his stupid exercise ball.

  Had he just accused me of being distracting when he had just done what he’d done? Clearly, Stephen didn’t think Donovan was all bunnies and daydreams so that meant on a scale of one to people who agree with me, Stephen was firmly behind my decision to hate Donovan.

  Still I didn’t say anything, didn’t glare at him for being a giant ass. I wasn’t going to give him that kind of satisfaction. This was also my mom’s fault, and my school’s fault, and television’s fault. I was not prepared for this situation. Not in the least. If I survived this, I was definitely going take that self-defense class my mom had been pestering me with for at least a year.

  I swallowed as a chill ran down my back. Was this why she had tried to get me to take it? I’d never seen her so hell bent on it before, but at the last moment, I’d had to help Lisa with one of her school projects. I sighed and mentally smacked Lisa. If I survived this, I was never helping her again.

  “So I suppose it’s time to get down to brass tacks as it were.” Donovan’s low, almost earthy voice seemed to fill the room completely. It was so hard to ignore that I almost didn’t think it was odd that he talked like that. I mean that’s something my mom would have said and she was like forty something. Donovan looked like he was only a few years older than me. He was way too young to talk like that and way, way too young, to be Stephen’s boss. And besides he wasn’t the boss of me.

  “I’m sure you have all sorts of questions and I, being the generous guy that I am, have decided that I will answer one question.” His eyes met mine and he nodded to himself, obviously enjoying himself very much. “Only one.”

  “Well, I only have one question.” I smiled to myself. “What’s going on with me, my mom, and everything?”

  “Oh.” Donovan sighed so loudly that it could have awakened the dead. “I was hoping you were going to ask an interesting question, maybe ‘why are we here?’ or ‘will you make out with me?’ then I would have had a good answer.” He waved his hand as if blowing me off. “Yours is barely worth the effort. I’m half-tempted to just answer with forty-two.”

  Beside me, I could hear Stephen physically bristle. I would not have been surprised if Donovan had replied many times with simply “forty-two.”

  “Is that supposed to be some kind of joke?” I glared at him. Had he really thought I was going to ask him to make out with me? Was he on drugs? “Just answer my damn question.”

  “Here’s the answer. Everyone in your lovely town of Folsom, everyone from the janitors at your school to the guys feeding pigeons at the park, every last Tom, Dick, and Harry is either in foster care or they work for the government. The vast majority are, like yourself, fostered. That’s what we call you, ‘The Fostered,’ in case you wondered. That’s because there are people out there.” He paused to wave his hands at the globe sitting on his desk. “That we need to do the things we want, whether they are billionaire oil tycoons, or religious leaders, or international spies. The only way to ensure that they walk the very straight and very narrow path we’ve laid out before them is to kidnap someone in their family and hold them hostage. You follow?”

  I tried to breathe, tried to think about this in a way that made sense. Was he saying that someone had kidnapped me from my real parents and brought me here? Brought me to live with a lady who pretended to be my mother for the last how many years? And why didn’t I remember my real family? How long had I been gone?

  “Yeah… I guess so, but, and this is a big but, assuming I believe you, why were they trying to kill me?” I asked, narrowing my eyes at him in my best show of determination. I was not going to let his cavalier attitude rattle me. Not today.

  “Oh, the rocketeers outside?” Donovan laughed, throwing his head back as great peals of laughter exploded from him. “They weren’t trying to kill you. Maybe him.” Donovan jerked his thumb at Stephen and smiled. “They were trying to ‘rescue you’ from us. Your real mom was trying to get you back… but, and trust me on this, your real mom is one bad mama-jama. You do not want her to find you.”

  The world spun as his words crashed down on me, threatening to drag me down with their weight. Was that re
ally true? Was I really, like really, really, just some pawn that had been stolen from my parents as leverage? Was that all I was? Was that all my friends were too? I reached out for something to steady myself, and inadvertently, grabbed Stephen’s hand. I spun, and was about to hit him or scream that he was nothing but a filthy liar, but the look in his sapphire eyes stopped me cold.

  “No, seriously,” Stephen’s voice was calm and understanding. “Your mother is one of the most powerful women in the world. The thug from earlier told you that. She’s also the world’s most dangerous terrorist. She runs the world’s largest private army. She holds allegiance to no one. Let me be straight with you. The real reason the US hasn’t fallen and countless cities haven’t been fire-bombed in the last sixteen years is because we have you. If she gets you back, no one will have any leverage over her.”

  “In short,” Donovan continued, and I had to struggle not to feel both overwhelmed and double-teamed, “your mom has found our super-secret lair, and you are no longer safe here. Now that she knows where you are, she has already begun mobilizing forces to get you back, which sounds all nicey-nice, but trust me, not nicey-nice. Not even nice. Once your mom gets you back, she will, not to sound cliché, but she will totally, unequivocally, take over the world.”

  “You’re all crazy!” I snapped at Donovan. “My mom runs a restaurant in the middle of a Podunk town. If my ‘real’ mom is as horrible as you say, why did it take sixteen years for her to find me?” I asked, crossing my arms over my chest.

  “It took sixteen years to find you because we’re pretty good at keeping the place where we hide all our most important hostages secret. It’s one of the main reasons we think there might be an insider working with her,” Stephen said, and as the words left his mouth, Donovan shot him a glance. Stephen blanched and looked away.