Mercy Killing (Affairs of State Book 1) by Kathryn Johnson Page B

necessary contacts,” he promised.
    “What’s the real reason you don’t want me over there?”
    He gave her an offended look. “I don’t want to see you get hurt. What else could it be?”
    “I don’t know. I honestly don’t know, Peter.” She stepped away from him, shaking her head, needing space to think, to breathe. Her hands needed something to do. Like throw something. “If you force me to act on my own—”
    “Don’t.” His voice turned hard, along with his eyes. “Don’t force my hand. You’ll get more than you bargained for.”
    She stared at him. What the hell does that mean? “Are you seriously threatening me?”
    He groaned and rolled his eyes again.
    But she was certain he’d meant his words to intimidate. And he was holding back. He knew something that he wasn’t telling her. Of that she felt sure. “What might that thing I haven’t bargained for be?” she said.
    “Just that…I don’t know…” He tossed his hands in the air in a gesture of defeat. “Trouble, physical danger. You saw what they did to Talia.”
    “I’m not sure what I’m seeing in the photograph. And I have no clue who took it, where it was taken, or why my mother is being kept from returning home. But I’m going to find out and I won’t let veiled threats stop me. She’s my mother, God damn it!”
    He held his hands up in front of him in a “Whoa!” gesture. “Listen to me, Mercy, I’ll pull whatever strings I can to locate your mother. I promise. I really do.” 
    More tears, acid-hot, stung her eyes. But this time she held them back. “I’m going to find her. I’m going to bring her home, with or without your help.” He reached for her but she swept aside his outstretched hands with a chop of her arm. “If you do anything… anything to stand in my way, I swear I’ll leave you, Peter Davis!”
    He stared at her, eyes huge, stricken. “We love each other, right? We’re a team. Oh, God, Mercy—don’t say that!” He softened his voice. “Please don’t throw away everything we’ve worked so hard for because ruthless fanatics or criminals, or whatever the hell they are, have targeted a member of our family.”
    Our family, he’d said. The tenderness in his voice touched her. Peter could be stubborn and selfish; she knew that as well as anyone. But he also understood how to break down a crisis and dredge up solutions. That was his job for the government. There was no reason he couldn’t use his talents to help Talia.
    He moved one step closer but, wisely, didn’t yet risk touching her. “Your mother is a famous international journalist. She’s an easy target. Talia has always accepted the risks. And she’s never not gotten herself out of a jam.”
    Mercy felt her frazzled nerves begin to relax, fiber by fiber. “You’re right. It’s just that she’s always seemed so…so invincible to me. And that photograph…”
    He nodded solemnly. “Exactly. Terrifying.” He took a step closer. “But your presence over there might do nothing but alarm her captors, force their hand. They could be trying to come up with a ransom demand. Deciding who to best go to for money. If they think the authorities are onto them . . . “  He shook his head.
    Mercy shivered, remembering what Clay had said about the slavers’ methods of covering their tracks. “Oh, Lord,” she swallowed back a sob.
    Peter cautiously rested a hand on her shoulder. “I’m sorry if I sounded callous before. Moving to Mexico, accepting this new job, it’s been a tougher career transition than I’d expected.”
    She nodded, the lump in her throat keeping her from speaking.
    “Peace?” Peter asked, his gaze pleading.
    “Peace,” she choked out and allowed him to take her in his arms. They embraced for a long minute. She realized now how much she’d needed this—someone to lean on, to rely on.
    “I’ll get on the phone,” he murmured. “Fax a copy of that photo to the department. That ought to shake them up enough to