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had ever phoned her at home.  
    And her number wasn’t simply unlisted—it was unpublished. Unavailable to anyone except those people she wanted to have it—other than random telemarketers who targeted every known number regardless of who lived there, of course.
    Out of instinct, Ivy pulled her gun and swept through her apartment. There’d been no signs of forced entry, but that didn’t mean anything these days. Criminals were clever. Drug dealers like the Ruizes were even more so.
    She didn’t find anything that indicated anyone had been inside, and the apartment was clean. But she had to take the threat, however vague, seriously. She wasn’t going to stop working and go into hiding, because that would mean the criminals had won—but she would go to a hotel while her agency sorted this out.
    She went and grabbed her bugout bag and her computer, then headed back out again. She phoned Ace once she was in the car and told him what had happened.
    “Ivy, what the fuck? Do you think it’s the Ruizes?”
    “Who else could it be? We’ve been working on bringing them down for months now.”
    Months in which she’d traveled a lot, slept a little, and eaten a load of fast-food crap as they stalked the Ruizes and waited for a break. They’d thought they’d had it with the submarines. And then the fucking Freedom Force had to get involved.
    Ace snorted. “Yeah, true. But what if it’s someone fucking with you? What about that musclehead you call an ex-husband? Would he do something like this to screw with you?”
    Ivy’s gut clenched. “What? No way! Dane might still be pissed off at me, but he wouldn’t threaten me. Not even as a joke.”
    “Okay, okay, calm down. If you say so, I believe you. Where you headed?”
    “I’m checking into a hotel near the base. Might as well stay near HOT HQ since we’ll be working there for the foreseeable future.”
    “Yeah, sounds good. You calling Leslie next?”
    Ivy bit her lower lip. There was the possibility Leslie would pull her from the HOT mission over this—but the threat was real, and Ivy wasn’t stupid. Leslie had to be informed.
    “Yes, I’m telling her. She can get a trace put on that call, see if we find anything.”
    Ace blew out a breath. “Yeah, good plan… You need anything, Ivy? Need me to come watch your back tonight?”
    “No, I’m good. I’ll see you in the morning. It was a vague threat, Ace. We’ve certainly heard worse.”
    “True dat. Let me know where you’re staying.”
    “I will.”
    They finished the call and then Ivy phoned Leslie. Her boss wasn’t precisely happy, but she said she’d start the IT forensics department working on the call. If they figured out where it came from—where it really came from and not just the VOIP masking system the caller had used to hide the number from her caller ID—maybe they’d learn something useful.
    Until then, there was nothing Ivy could do except check into the hotel and keep doing her job.
    After she was settled, she texted Ace her information and then opened up her computer and started searching through some of the unclassified files she had on the Ruizes. There was a lot to think about with the missing sub and the Freedom Force, but the Ruizes were her specialty. And maybe something in the files would trigger a thought about the terrorists.
    Ivy had been scanning the files for approximately ten minutes when there was a hard knock on her door. Her heart leapt, and she shoved the computer aside to reach for her gun.
    “Ivy! Open up! It’s Dane.”
    Ivy blinked. Dane? Here? Oh, holy shit.
    She went to the door and opened it, though she didn’t slide the chain back. Dane loomed on the other side, his face thunderous. He was dressed in jeans and a navy T-shirt that molded the hard planes of his sculpted chest like a second skin.  
    She swallowed. “What are you doing here?”
    “Heard you’d moved in. I’m down the hall.”
    Ivy couldn’t believe what she was hearing. “Wait…