by Rebecca York
“Agreed. Which leaves—he ran into something bad in Western Maryland, and his phone got destroyed.”
“It could have been an accident.”
Cole nodded.
“But after my conversation with Jonah last night, I’m sorry I didn’t send a team up there.”
“Last night, we couldn’t be sure the distress call was from Knox. We still can’t be sure. Plus finding him would have been almost impossible in the dark. Has Jonah had any other contacts with whoever called?”
“No. The signal was only for a short time.”
“And it was specifically to Jonah?”
“He wasn’t sure.”
Cole considered the three known facts. His cousin was missing. Somebody had sent out a telepathic distress call. And Knox knew about Jonah’s telepathic abilities.
“Knox is new on the team. He wouldn’t do something to get us worried—unless he was really in trouble.”
“I hear a bit of reservation in your voice,” Frank said.
Cole dragged in a breath and let it out. “Okay, Knox has been wanting a solo assignment. What if he stumbled into something hinky up there and wanted to handle it on his own?”
Frank cursed under his breath. “I thought I was bringing him along at the right speed.”
“This isn’t your fault,” Cole said quickly. “But I think our next step is to go to his last known location and see if we can find out what happened to him.”
“How many men do you want to send up there?”
“Three,” Cole answered. “Me, Brand and Zack.”
“You’re only taking werewolves?”
“You think I should bring Jonah?”
“Since he may already be involved—yes. Also, his talents are extraordinary.”
Cole nodded.
“How soon can you leave?”
“I hope within the hour.”
“Okay. Keep me posted. And good luck.”
“Thanks.”
CHAPTER 5
Maggie had intended to go hiking after breakfast. That was out of the question under the circumstances. If she’d been by herself, she might have crawled back into the tent and tried to relax. Not now.
She looked around the camp. Too bad she couldn’t keep busy straightening it up. But she was too much of a neat freak to have let it get messy in the first place.
Unable to just sit still, she grabbed a towel plus the small plastic box that held a bar of soap. Down at the stream, she looked around to make sure she was alone, then took off her shirt and bra and washed the top half of her body. When she’d dried off, she did the same with the bottom half.
Feeling better, she returned to the campsite and laid the damp towel on top of the tent, then checked on the man inside.
When she saw he was still sleeping, she started walking through the woods, picking up small fallen branches and breaking them into lengths that would work in the fire pit she’d built. She never ventured far from the tent, looking back frequently to make sure her guest had not come out.
After bringing back more wood than she could use in a week, she made a fire. When it was burning nicely, she rummaged through her supplies and found a packet of the dehydrated soup she’d brought. Putting it into her cook pan, she added some of the purified water from the creek and set it on a flat stone that she’d put into the middle of the fire pit to use in place of a cooking rack.
When it started to boil, she breathed in the aroma. Not bad, considering it came out of a package. It had been boiling for a few minutes when a noise from the tent made her jump. Quickly she took the pot off the center rock, set it to the side of the fire pit, and hurried toward the tent.
###
Knox pushed himself up, wondering where the hell he was and prepared to fight his way out.
As footsteps approached, he tensed. When a blond woman poked her head inside, he relaxed.
“Maggie Leland,” he said.
“Right.”
“You found me—after I got away from the drug lab.”
“Yes.”
He flopped back against the sleeping bag. “I woke up and didn’t know where I was.”
“My tent.”
“The blue bubble.” He dragged in a breath. “What do I smell?”
“Soup. You need some nourishment.”
He shook his head. “Not what I usually eat.”
“But you should stay on an easy-to-digest diet for a few days.”
His couldn’t stop a smile from flickering across his lips as he thought about what he’d been enjoying out in the woods.
She caught it and asked, “What do you usually eat?”
“Meat.”
“Maybe I could snare you a rabbit.”
He felt his eyebrows rise. “Seriously?”
“My dad loved to take us on camping trips. I’ve got a lot of outdoor skills.”
“Us?”
“Me and my brother. Mom thought of it as opportunity for some alone time.”
He caught her brief expression of dislike and wondered whom it was for—the mother or the brother.
“I need to get up.”
“You need to rest.”
“I also need to pee. And I want to wash,” he said as he crawled toward the door of the tent, grimacing as his left leg took part of his weight.
When he looked up, she had turned slightly away. Had his frankness embarrassed her? Probably not since she’d said she was a nurse. Maybe she was sorry she’d talked about her family.
He stood cautiously, clenched his teeth as he took a step. The wounded leg had stiffened up while he was sleeping.
“The stream is over that way.” She pointed toward her right and into the woods. “The water’s cold.”
“I’m used to cold water.”
She handed him a small container with soap, then looked at the towel draped over the top of the tent. “The only towel I have is wet. But I’ve got an extra tee shirt you can use to dry off.”
“Yes. Thanks.”
She handed him a shirt from her backpack.
Not quite steady on his feet, he hobbled past her into the woods, feeling her gaze on him.
Probably she was worried that he was going to bolt again, and the thought crossed his mind. He might have done it, if he’d had a better idea where he was.
He waded into the woods, scanning the area as he went. It seemed he and Maggie Leland were alone out here. Hoping that was true, he found a tree for privacy and emptied his bladder.
More comfortable now, he walked down to the stream, stripped and waded in, where he used the soap to wash off.
Feeling more human—the expression made him grin—he dressed and headed back, noting the look of relief on her face when she saw him approaching the campsite.
“You were afraid I’d leave?”
“Uh-huh.”
“I thought about it.”
“Why?”
“I’m not doing you any good hanging around,” he said as he draped the damp tee shirt over the tent next to her towel.
“I think I can be the judge of that.”
He shook his head. “You didn’t meet the lowlifes at the drug lab.”
“What were they like?”
“Armed and dangerous. And scruffy.”
“Hopefully, they’re far away from here.”
He sat down heavily on a fallen log, wondering how far he’d run on the bad leg.
“How are you feeling?”
“Pretty good—considering. I heal fast.”
“I want to see the wound.”
After he carefully pulled up the sweatpants on the injured leg, she removed the dressing and inspected the entry and exit sites.
“Yes, it’s looking good.”
After putting on a new dressing, she handed him the bottle of water and a pill.
He took the antibiotic. “I’m using up your supply of water.”
“I can get more from the stream—and purify it.”
“Then why did you bring bott
les?”
“It tastes better.”
She poured two mugs of the soup she’d cooked. He breathed in the scent, then took a cautious sip. “Not bad for camp food.”
“What I really wanted was that old Girl Scout standby—camper’s stew. Ground beef and canned soup. But I wasn’t willing to lug a can and a cooler.”
“I thought you went camping with your dad.”
“Yes, and the Girl Scouts. Anytime I could get away from civilization, I was happy.”
Like him, he thought, but he didn’t comment.
“You enjoy the outdoors, too,” she said.
“Yeah. I get away when I can.”
“You said you were a private detective?”
“Yes, I work for an outfit called Decorah Security. In Beltsville.”
“I haven’t heard of it.”
“We keep a low profile.”
She nodded.
Staying on the business track, he asked, “How far are you from your car?”
She thought for a moment. “About a quarter mile, I guess. I wasn’t pacing it off or anything. I was just following a trail and looking for a spot I liked.”
He drank a little more of the soup. “Well, speaking as a security professional, I suggest we should get out of here.”
“Speaking as a nurse, I would recommend your getting a little more rest. Before you walk that far.”
“I came a lot farther last night.”
“How do you know?”
“Nobody’s shown up to grab me.”
As that comment hung in the air, she shuddered.
###
Maggie might have said more, but she saw his fingers tighten on the mug handle. More telling was a flicker in Knox’s eye—a flicker she recognized from the last time. They had been in the middle of a perfectly normal conversation, and now he was wigging out again.
He was already looking wildly around the area.
“Christ! I thought you were one of the aliens. But you’re their captive.”
“No.”
“I hear them coming. Quick, into the fortress.”
“Knox, it’s okay. You’re having a hallucination.”
He was already on his feet. Throwing down the mug, he reached for her, wrapping her in his arms and starting to drag her toward the tent.
“Wait.” She picked up the bucket of water and tossed it onto the fire.
It was all the time she had to react. She could have struggled against Knox’s strong hold, but she didn’t think he was any danger to her—at least she hoped not. And what would he do if she resisted? Maybe he’d go back to thinking she was in on the plot.
He pulled her inside the tent, then turned to zip the opening closed.
“Where’s your gun?”
“We don’t need the gun.”
“Why not?”
She swallowed hard and made the split-second decision to go with the fantasy. “The fortress is magic. As long as we stay quiet in here, they won’t know where we are.”
“Good thinking.” He looked toward the window, then back to her again. “And we can weave a cloak of invisibility around us so they won’t know where we are.”
“How?”
“Sex magic.”
“What?” She heard the syllable come out like a squeak.
“You know. Use the magic of sexual arousal to ward off evil.”
Oh God, what had she gotten herself into by playing along? “Wait a minute . . .”
He looked into her eyes, his gaze making her heart pound. Just that look sent heat surging through her body.
“Where did you hear about sex magic?” she managed to ask in a strangled voice.
“I read about it.”
“Why?”
“I’m interested in . . . the unusual.”
“You’ve never used it before?”
“No. I never needed to before.”
They were having what sounded like a rational conversation about magic. A particular kind of magic. It might seem crazy to go along with him, but she understood that he was completely serious.
He looked like he was listening to something, and she tipped her head to the side. But there was only the rustle of leaves in the trees.
“They’re closing in. Hurry.”
Before she could protest further, he reached for her, making a low sound in his throat, pulling her close.
She barely knew this man, and he was taking liberties she wouldn’t have permitted with anyone else. Yet this was hardly a normal situation. From the first, he’d meant her no harm, and now he was trying to protect her—although there was no way to make that protection logical. Either he was putting her on, or the drug was still affecting his brain. And if he was putting her on, then he was a damn good actor.
What would the stuff be doing to him if he’d had a different personality? What would he be planning now? Some other guy might think that the only way to save himself was to sacrifice her to the aliens.
But not Knox Marshall.
He lay back, pulling her down on top of him. His hands stroking up and down her back, pressing her hips to his, then sliding upward to tangle in her hair.
“Don’t.”
“It’s the best we can do.”
With someone else, she might have concluded that he was using an insane excuse to cross a personal boundary. But she was sure Knox was completely serious. In his fevered mind, he thought he was protecting the two of them—protecting her.
One hand cupped around the back of her head, bringing her mouth to his. This was wrong. He was going too far. She should get the hell out of this tent, and yet honesty compelled her to acknowledge that she liked the feel of his lips on hers—liked it when he began to nibble at her—sexy little nibbles that he followed by the nip of his teeth.
“Knox,” she murmured against his mouth, unable to stop herself from responding.
“That’s right. Don’t fight it. We need to build the magic.”
Despite the way this had started, she didn’t really want to fight the arousal stirring through her body. She sank against him, closing her eyes as he cradled her close. Slipping his hand under her sweatshirt, he stroked her back, sending little tongues of fire over her skin.
He pressed his nose to her neck and breathed in. “You smell so good. And you feel so delicate,” he murmured.
She struggled for coherence. “I’m not.”
“I know. It’s an illusion. You wouldn’t be out here alone if you weren’t tough. And you wouldn’t have taken me in if you didn’t think you could handle me.”
“I couldn’t leave someone wounded out in the woods.”
“A lot of people would have packed up and gotten as far away as possible.”
All the time they spoke, he kept touching her, kissing her, on the lips, the brows, the ears, the neck, and finally back to her mouth again for kisses that had turned openmouthed.
He had talked of magic, and it felt like the sorcery was coming from him. She raised her hand so that she could touch his face, circle his ears, and run her fingers through his thick hair, loving the way every inch of him felt. She had never been with a guy who was this sexy, this compelling, and this focused on her—as though she were the center of his universe.
One part of her brain still could hardly comprehend that she was locked in an embrace with a man she barely knew. Yet, she thought she did know him on some basic level that went beyond sanity or any experience she could remember.
Her eyes were squeezed shut.
“Look at me,” he murmured against her mouth. “It works better if you look at me.”
She opened her eyes and focused on him, catching the intensity of his expression.
“Do you feel it—the magic?”
Logic told her not to believe in anything so out there. But she couldn’t really discount the experience. As Knox kissed her and stroked her, he was making her feel things light years beyond what she had ever felt before.
Rolling her to her back, he reached unde
r her sweatshirt and unhooked her bra, pushing it out of the way so that his hands could find her breasts. He cupped them in his palms, then played with her hardened nipples, circling them and finally tugging on them between thumbs and fingers.
She gasped at the pleasure of it, gasped again as he pulled the shirt and bra out of the way so he could lower his head and suck on one hardened peak.
As the heat of his mouth enveloped her, she gasped, then gasped again as he slid one hand down her body, unzipping her jeans.
She had been caught up in his lovemaking. Suddenly she knew this was going too far—too fast.
“Don’t.”
“It’s the only way to keep the spell going.”
The spell. Yes, it seemed that she was ensnared in a spell. Not sex magic—but the enchantment Knox was weaving around them. Her protest lasted only a moment. Unable to pull away, she went with the magic.
He slipped his hand inside her panties, where he gently eased a finger into her folds and found her clit.
As he pressed and stroked, her pleasure swelled, and she couldn’t stop her hips from rising to meet the pressure.
He was good at this, bringing her to the peak of pleasure as he slid his finger from her clit to her vagina, circling just inside the opening before moving upward again.
“You’re going to make me come,” she gasped out.
“Oh yeah.”
He kept up the expert attentions, adjusting his touch as he gauged her reactions.
She clung to his shoulders, her breath coming in ragged gasps as she moved her hips against his hand, helpless to do anything but revel in the pleasure he was giving her.
She came in a burst of sensation, tightening her grip on him as shock waves rocketed through her body.
As the peak receded, she lay for long moments, breathing hard. And when he finally pulled his hand from her pants, she opened her eyes and found him staring down at her.
“Christ.”
The harsh word brought her back to reality.
CHAPTER 6
Emery Livingston turned back to the lab table and pretended to arrange the glassware he’d washed earlier.
The main point of the exercise was to keep himself from throwing glassware across the lab, such as it was. He’d been promised a state-of-the-art facility. This place was a joke.
