Conspiracy Game
Page 7
Her brothers were going to lose their minds when they found out what she'd done. Jebediah might just kill her and put her out of her misery. She wasn't looking forward to the morning and his inevitable lecture on her safety and the safety of the family. The entire night had been too overwhelming. The man lying only a few feet from her had been mercilessly tortured, and now, even in his sleep, his body shuddered as if still feeling every abuse.
Life didn't make sense to her most of the time. And she never felt safe, or as if she belonged. Everyone around her tried; it wasn't her family or friends--it was her. She rocked herself slightly, trying to bring some comfort when the images of blood and death rose up to flood her mind. Jack stirred, and pain rippled across his face. She looked up, alert to see if he needed anything, but he appeared to be dreaming. When he settled back into a deeper sleep, she laid her head on her knees, feeling the burning wash of tears she couldn't prevent.
Blood and death surrounded him. Jack was drowning in it, helpless to get to the woman floating down the river. He reached for her, but missed her outstretched hand and knew he'd lost her forever. She didn't call out to him, but cried softly, tears pouring down her face. He heard the sound, muffled, heart-wrenching, and his eyes snapped open, gun tracking around the room.
Briony huddled on the floor, knees drawn up to her chest, head down. Her silver-gold hair spilled around her face, and the sight of her like that made his heart begin to pound in his chest. He swore silently between clenched teeth, his body too tired and too beat up to move, to get to her. Slowly he lowered the gun, resting it back on the bed.
"Briony."
Her head snapped up, one hand wiping at her eyes, a swift movement that she tried to hide. "Are you in pain? You must be. We've probably got something for pain in the kit." There was a small tremor in her voice, but she rallied, covering her distress.
"Come here."
She stilled, her eyes too large and drowning in tears, long lashes spiky and wet. Jack could hardly bear the sight of her like that. She should have been somewhere where she was safe and protected--not in Kinshasa where anything could happen to her.
"I said come here."
The hard note of command stopped her weeping. "I heard you." He looked so determined, as if he might get up and come over to her in spite of his injuries. Briony got to her feet and crossed to his side, laying her palm on his forehead to access his fever. "Do you want more water?"
He nodded, his gaze never leaving her face, his eyes still glazed with fever. She took out another bottle and removed the cap before handing it to him.
"You washed your hair." Jack let the liquid slide down his throat, savoring the taste of it. "Whatever you use smells good." He caught her wrist when she turned away. Tugging, he indicated the bed. "Don't sit on the floor. I'm not in any shape to do anything and it's more comfortable." Mostly he wanted to comfort her. It wasn't something he'd ever thought he'd be doing, but he'd give it a shot just so she wouldn't cry anymore. When she didn't respond either way, he pulled her down to the mattress.
"I could jar you."
"I doubt it." He let his fingers slide over her tear-wet face. "Don't be doing this."
"What? Crying? Every time I close my eyes I see that man dead. Or I see someone cutting you into little pieces." She pressed her fingertips to her temple. "I'm afraid to go to sleep."
"You have a headache. Did you take anything for it?"
"My headache is rather insignificant next to what the rebels did to you. I can't believe you were running around the forest. You should be dead."
"I wasn't going to die and give them the satisfaction." He took another sip of water, his fingers tangling in her hair. It was softer than he'd first imagined. "They would have done better just to put a bullet in my head."
"Why didn't they?"
Jack set the bottle of water on the small nightstand beside the bed and used both hands to massage her temples. Her body felt small and soft next to his, and he actually had a reaction to her, disconcerting when he was trying to be comforting. She was too innocent for a man like him to ever have sex with her. He'd shock the holy hell out of her, be too rough, too demanding, too everything. His body hardened even more and he shut the door on that line of thinking. There was no way he was going to allow it to happen. How could his body react when he was beat up all to hell? Nothing about the situation made sense to him and that made him leery. He was always distrustful, but his reactions to Briony were completely out of character.
"The general wants people to be afraid of him. The crueler he is, the more everyone fears him and he gets what he wants. Torture and genocide and rape are good ways to intimidate people."
Briony was silent for a long time. She sighed. "My brothers won't listen to me. They think I'm paranoid, but the music festival offered us an enormous sum of money to perform here. It didn't make sense to me then and even less since I've been here. The festival doesn't have that kind of money and we weren't going to be that big of a draw. You served with my brother and we're both enhanced psychically and physically. I've never met anyone like me before. In fact, this is the first time in my life I've ever been able to be near another human being without feeling their emotions and being sick. Don't you think it's all too much of a coincidence?"
"If you're paranoid, Briony, I am too."
"Tyrel told me there's a rumor that rebel soldiers are sneaking into town. If they aren't here for the music festival, my guess is they're looking for you."
"I'd have to say when they find the bodies on the outskirts of the city, they'll definitely come looking."
"Jebediah's going to be really, really angry with me."
"Don't worry about your brother. He knows me." Jebediah knew him all right, and he sure as hell wouldn't want Jack Norton lying in the same bed with his sister. Jack lay staring up at the cracked ceiling, one hand in her hair, the other over the gun, listening to her soft, even breathing and wondering why he already felt like she belonged to him.
CHAPTER 4
Pounding on the door jarred Jack and Briony from their sleep. The gun was already in Jack's fist and he waved her to the safety of the bathroom.
"Open the door, Bri!" Jebediah yelled. "I'm standing out here with coffee and you're still asleep. Get a move on."
"It's my brother," Briony said unnecessarily, but she wanted Jack to put the gun away. She deliberately moved in front of him, blocking his sight to the door, pressing her hand to his head to check for fever. She raised her voice. "Just a minute, Jebediah. Have a little patience."
Jack swept her out of the way with his arm. "Stay to the side of the door when you let him in. Someone could be standing behind him with a gun to his head."
"He would have warned me," Briony objected. "Don't shoot my brother."
"Stand to the side of the door." When she remained frowning at him, he clenched his teeth. "Damn it, do what I tell you."
Briony huffed out a breath just to show him he annoyed her, although it didn't seem to faze him. She told herself she obeyed to keep Jack from getting upset as she unlocked and opened the door, not because he was downright scary at times.
"Here." Jebediah handed her a cup of coffee as he leaned in to kiss her cheek. As he did, his gaze jumped beyond her to the bed where Jack lay on his side beneath the sheet, the gun steady in his hand, aimed straight at Jebediah's heart. "What the hell are you doing here, Norton?" Jebediah jumped to place his body between the gun and Briony.
"I'm so glad you remember Jack, Jeb," Briony said, trying to be cheerful. "He needs to get out of the country and I thought you might be able to help."
"Lock the door." Jack slowly lowered the gun and put his head on the pillow, draping one arm over his eyes.
Briony turned the lock and leaned against the door, blowing on the coffee to keep from having to look at her brother.
"Just how did you meet up with Jack Norton, Briony?" Jebediah demanded.
"I went to the forest on the edge of the city," she admitted.
"Jebediah." Jack's voice cut in, his tone very low, almost purring. "You talk to her like that again around me and I'm going to rip out your heart. We clear on that?"
Briony's heart jumped at the threat. Coming from anyone else, it would have been melodramatic, but Jack sounded like he meant it. His tone was mild, he hadn't raised his voice; in fact he hadn't even sat up, one arm was still slung over his eyes, but something in his ultrarelaxed posture seemed deceptive--as if inside he was coiled like a snake, ready to strike at any moment. She had never in her life met anyone so casual about violence.
Jebediah backed up. "She's my sister and my responsibility, Jack. She could have been killed." He almost sounded conciliatory.
"I already raked her over the coals. Once is enough for anyone." Jack's tone said to drop it.
Briony sank down onto the edge of the bed and looked up at her brother. "I'm sorry. I needed to breathe. I couldn't stay here surrounded by all the people..."
Jack's arm snaked out fast, his fingers settling around her wrist. "Don't apologize. You're not an anchor. You can't be around so many people and not feel their misery. Your brother ought to know that about you by now."
"What the hell are you talking about, Jack?" Jebediah demanded. "My sister isn't any of your business."
Jack sat up slowly, the sheet falling away to reveal the masses of cuts and burns and carvings on his chest and shoulders.
"God, Jack." Jebediah swallowed hard, his gaze jumping to Briony's. "Who got ahold of you? You need a doctor."
"Briony took care of me."
Jebediah's expression hardened. "Briony? What's going on between you two?"
"Wild sex, Jebediah," Briony snapped, sarcasm dripping from her voice. "I'm not sixteen, you know, and you're totally embarrassing me." She handed the coffee to Jack. "Does he look in shape to perform?"
Jack looked at her over the top of the cup, his eyes meeting hers, a sudden raw intensity turning the deep gray of his eyes to a liquid silver. "I would have accommodated you had you asked."
A ghost of a smile curved her mouth, but inside her stomach did a funny little flip. He didn't look as if he was joking. Her womb did an unexpected clench and she had to look away from him.
"That's not funny, Jack," Jebediah snapped. "Don't even think about my sister that way."
"I'm heading to the bathroom and don't have much on," Jack pointed out. "So if you're on the shy side, you might not want to look."
She'd already looked. Briony turned toward the window, not wanting either of them to see the color stealing up her neck to her face. "I washed your clothes," she said, "and hung them up on the shower, but I doubt if they're dry. Jebediah, would you get him jeans and a shirt?"
Her brother waited until Jack disappeared into the bathroom before crouching down in front of her. "Are you crazy?" he hissed. "Do you have any idea who that man is? Or what he's capable of doing?"
Even with Jack out of the room, his close proximity kept the anger, shock, and alarm her brother was exuding from hitting her quite as hard as it usually did. "As far as I can see, Jeb, he's been tortured and needs help. Can you get him out of here?"
"The soldiers in the city are all stirred up. That's why I brought you coffee rather than have you go out this morning. A few dead bodies were found early this morning, reportedly rebels. The fear is that they're infiltrating the city, and that's why the army is on alert. They were searching bars last night."
"The rebels are looking for Jack. He escaped from their camp."
"And they want him bad enough to come into Kinshasa, with soldiers on every street corner?" Jebediah scratched his head. "You're right, we'll have to get him out of here. They'll look closely at us because we're foreigners. I'll get clothes for him and you keep him out of sight. Is he strong enough to travel?"
"Yes, but I don't have any idea how. He needs a doctor, though. If you have antibiotics in your travel kit or any of the others do, bring them to me."
Jebediah nodded. "Are you sure you're all right, Briony? He didn't hurt you?"
She shook her head. "He protected me, Jebediah." She wanted to share with her brother the things Jack had revealed about the "GhostWalkers," but the fact that she felt no pain around Jack and did with her brothers would bother Jebediah. He'd be hurt by the revelation, and she'd made up her mind a long time ago that she was done hurting her family. They weren't ever going to know how much she really suffered in their presence.
Jebediah cast a quick glance at the bathroom door. "He must have contacts as well. Has he said anything about what he was doing here? Whether he was supposed to reach an extraction point?"
"He hasn't said much of anything."
"That would be Jack. He plays it pretty close to his chest. I'll get him clothes, keep the door locked."
Briony followed him and locked the door, setting the coffee aside for Jack when he came out of the shower. She was going to give him another shot of antibiotics the moment he came out, feed him and get more fluids down him. He had to get strong fast and that meant he needed to kick the infection.
The water shut off, and a few minutes later Jack emerged, towel wrapped around his narrow hips. His dark hair was still wet and the raw knife wounds were red and angry-looking scattered over his body. With stitches everywhere, he looked a little like Frankenstein. He had broad shoulders and powerful arms, and was well built, with massive upper body strength and defined muscle. His face was all masculine, tough and weathered with several scars. Other older scars, both from knives and bullets, marred his skin in several places over his body.
"You look a little worse for wear," Briony observed as she handed him another bottle of water. "Drink this, take another pill, and you can have the entire cup of coffee. I won't even ask for a sip."
She looked beautiful to Jack. Sunshine and flowers in a meadow. He tried not to stare at her, taking the water and downing the pill she gave him without question. It hurt just to look at her, and her scent was plain driving him crazy. He turned his back on her and walked to window to check the alley below them. He heard her sharp inhale and knew she was staring at the mess of his back. The front looked worse, but he was alive so he wasn't complaining.
"I don't mind sharing the coffee with you." His voice was gruff--or maybe rusty. He hadn't really used it in a while. When talking was necessary, Ken had done most of it. Jack hadn't meant for his statement to come out intimate, but it sounded that way, an invitation. Just being close to her stirred up his body, and his blood pounded in his veins. It was disconcerting to have such a strong reaction to a woman.
"Jack you're prowling around the room like a caged tiger. Sit down and let me look at your wounds."
He glanced at her, and his heart did a peculiar somersault, his pulse raced. He pressed one hand to his chest, shocked at the way he couldn't control his response to her. He sat down because it was easier than trying to walk when it was becoming painful. He realized at once that that was a terrible mistake. She bent over him, her body so close to his he felt her through his skin. Her scent enveloped him until he couldn't do anything but breathe her in. He was acutely aware of every detail of her body--the curve of her cheek, the length of her lashes, the steady beat of her heart. Every stroke of her fingers, as she applied topical antibiotics, felt like a caress designed to heighten his need of her.
His erection grew thicker and harder, blood pounding, centering in his groin. Her breasts brushed against his arm as she leaned across him to get to a wound on his chest that was particularly inflamed. If his body had hurt before, he couldn't remember it, with the throbbing ache between his legs. He couldn't think with the roaring in his head and the taste and feel of her imprinted in him.
Jack gritted his teeth and tried to use his brain. He was a loner, a solitary man who needed no one and kept it that way
. Every woman had been someone he could take or leave, and he liked it that way. This woman wasn't the leaving kind and he knew better than to want her. He had discipline. Control. He heard a noise escape, a growl of need he couldn't prevent. The sound was as primitive as the way she was making his body feel. Worse, she had somehow gotten under his skin.
His fingers settled around her wrist, and he tugged at her until Briony turned her head and looked at him. Their eyes met and an electrical charge of spine-tingling awareness shot down his spine.
"Did I hurt you?" Her voice caressed his skin, her breath warm and inviting, fingertips stroking back his wet hair. "I'm trying to be gentle, but you have so many deep cuts."
"Sit on the end of the bed." He sounded rough even to his own ears, but it didn't matter. She had to get a distance away from him or he was going to roll her body under his and do all the things playing out in his mind that would shock the hell out of her.
Briony smiled at him. "Do you order everyone around?"
Her smile lit up her face. It did something special to her eyes, turning the deep brown to a melting chocolate. Another growl escaped, and he tried to look away, but she seemed to mesmerize him. "Yes," he bit out between clenched teeth. "Just do what I say when I say and we'll be fine, Briony."
She laughed. The sound sent a shudder of pleasure rippling through his body. He was suddenly very afraid for both of them--for his honor and her innocence. "Have you ever heard of self-preservation? Because I don't think you have much in that department."
Briony seated herself on the edge of the bed. "I have plenty, thank you. It's just that you really do expect everyone to do what you say whenever you command them. You can't control other people, if they won't allow it."
His gaze drifted over her face possessively. "You aren't one of those other people. I'm trying to do the right thing here and keep my hands off of you."
Briony's heart jumped. Her pulse pounded. His scent had been driving her crazy, like some aphrodisiac she couldn't resist. She'd tried not to let him know, but she'd needed to touch him, needed to be close to him. She tried to tell herself it was because for the first time in her life she could be in the close confines of a room with another human being and not feel the pain of his thoughts and emotions. She moistened her suddenly dry lips and was instantly aware of his burning gaze following the sweep of her tongue along her bottom lip, turning her gesture into something sexual.