by Mary Wine
“Yeah, well, he thinks he’s protecting me by walking away.”
“And that hurts.”
Kalin tapped the screen to change the subject. “Let’s focus on the problems we can do something about.”
Sonya was sifting through her mind again. Kalin felt her reluctance to drop the subject. Kalin turned her head and faced her. “I’m not going to beg him. No relationship works out when it’s one sided. He has to want to be with me enough to fight for it.”
“He just knows the odds.”
Kalin felt Sonya’s emotions through their linked minds. It wasn’t nearly as strong as the link she had with Devon, but the distinct sense of desolation came through.
“Sonya…you’re too young to feel that way.”
Sonya abandoned the sweet, innocent expression she so often wore. It melted away, exposing a woman that was far more hardened than any eighteen-year-old should be.
“I’m everything they want me to be,” she confirmed. “The perfect Operative for intelligence gathering.”
She fluttered her eyelashes again. “The girl next door and all that crap. Seems I don’t have the features for a femme fatale. So it’s cotton and bows and no profanity…and I’m twenty-four.”
Shit.
Sonya arched an eyebrow as she read the thought crossing Kalin’s mind.
“You’ve met Grace,” Sonya said softly. “Did you really think I wasn’t as expertly trained?”
“Actually, you had me duped.”
Sonya wasn’t pleased with the admission. Instead, her eyes took on a hollow look. “I’m the very thing they deploy me against. A deception, a lie.”
“That sucks.”
Sonya drew in a deep breath and let it out before leaning toward the screen.
“Lorance has a hissy fit when I deviate from standard uniform.” She opened two of the buttons on her top to reveal a bright-pink undershirt. “Things are loosening up for us Operatives, but I still don’t have a bank card to use on the internet.” She glared at the little note Gennaro had left. “I don’t even get to use that slush account because everyone thinks I can’t take care of myself.”
“I feel your pain, sister. These guys have control issues.”
Sonya nodded and pointed at the screen. “I’ll slip you the cash for that one if you’ll order it.”
“Done.”
Sonya smiled but it wasn’t the one she flashed so freely. This one was genuine and a little shy. “Really?”
Kalin selected the set and pulled up the sizing information. “Every girl needs a little lace.”
“In just the right place,” Sonya finished. She tapped one of the pictures. “You need this one, to knock Devon out of his tracks.”
“Interesting idea.” Really interesting actually. Quitting wasn’t sitting very well on her stomach. She selected the set and sent Sonja a conspiratorial look.
“Girl power.”
Sonya Roberts laughed, low and sultry, drawing a couple of curious looks from some of the men on the other side of the recreation lounge. She fluttered her eyelashes to throw them off, but Kalin saw the glitter of anticipation in her light-green eyes.
Oh yeah, girl power it was. If Devon wanted to walk away from her, she was going to make it harder than he was counting on.
Chapter Six
Kalin couldn’t breathe.
The noose was knotted around her neck.
“A sixteen-year commitment would be better.”
In all, there were twenty men sitting at a long table discussing her future.
“I maintain that a full range of tests should be performed on the subject before any decision is made. Her ability to link with other psychics might be evidence of stronger abilities that can be harnessed.”
“I am not a fucking subject to be harnessed,” she exploded. The man in the white lab coat turned to look at her but only blinked. There wasn’t a single hint of remorse on his face for his attitude toward her.
He turned back to the meeting and continued to argue the points of needing to test her.
It was a nightmare.
But one she was awake during.
Boy, her life had certainly changed all right. Night terrors were paling again compared to the world Devon had dragged her into.
“Lab-rat brigade.” Devon’s words made horrible, nauseating sense. She felt like a butterfly in a net. The team in front of her was deciding just how to pin her inside a shadow box for display.
If she sat at the table a moment longer, she was going to vomit.
At least leaving the room helped clear her head. She stopped at the outside door of the nondescript building the meeting was being held in, but someone came after her. She flipped them off before pushing through the outside doors and making her way across the blacktop. Most of the restricted access area of the base was covered in black tarmac. She felt like her eyes were drying out from the lack of vegetation. Even downtown Los Angeles had more greenery.
And she had nowhere to go.
Kalin stopped, feeling trapped. Her heart was pounding, sweat trickling down her back. A huge fence stood between her and the rest of the base. It was twelve feet high and topped with razor wire. The only exit in sight had armed guards at it.
She was just about ready to try her luck.
“Don’t.”
She jumped, hearing Devon with her ears and her mind. Only it pissed her off, because she was always jumping when he did that.
“Get out of my head,” she ordered, turning to find him closing the distance between them. He was dressed all in black, looking like some sort of special-operations shadow warrior.
He pushed right into her head and she lost control, screaming with frustration before she turned toward the only place she felt she might go.
It was the mess hall for the restricted area of the base. As far as diners went, it was pretty good. Just about anything she might want was served up free of charge.
But one whiff of the inside of it and her belly rolled. So she turned back towards the beverage bar and started to pour herself a cup of coffee. She’d take it one step at a time.
Devon pushed in the door and back into her thoughts.
“Fine.” She faced him before sipping at the coffee. “Want to reconnect? It’s not like I was the one who decided to walk away.”
Major Garrick Gennaro showed up in the doorway right on cue as Devon pulled back out of her thoughts. The other people in the mess hall were clustered in small groups, but they assessed them before dismissing them.
The muscles in her neck felt tight enough to snap. Devon sifted through her thoughts again, like he just couldn’t resist. But his lips thinned and he put up a hard wall between them.
“It’s the way it has to be, Kalin. I explained it to you.”
“So what are you doing in my face now?”
His face darkened. “You’re panicking.”
“So what if I am?” she snarled. “I’m sure one of the lab-coat rats will be along to deal with me. Since you’ve explained to me that we’re not having a relationship, get lost. I’ll deal.”
Pain was flowing through her. The sight of him so close yet so closed off was like a hot knife cutting into her.
“Kalin—”
“Save it,” she snapped. “When you walk away from someone, you don’t have the right to tell them how to feel.”
She headed for the door but felt Devon behind her. His wall was slipping. She felt him reaching for her, felt that familiar touch of his mind, and doubled her stride. She made it through the door of the building and felt his touch recede.
Well, it was better that way.
But she didn’t like it one bit. Tears escaped from her eyes as it took every bit of effort she had to keep walking away from the man she loved.
“You are…what is the word in
English? Stupid.”
Devon turned around to face a man that was slightly bigger than himself, happy to have a target. What brought him up short was the way the guy tried to roll right into his head. Devon knew another psychic when he felt it, and this man was one.
A powerful one.
He had dark hair but blue eyes and was built like a linebacker. If there was a soft spot on him, Devon couldn’t see it. Whoever he was, he read Devon’s assessment of him and grinned, showing off two chipped teeth that only added to his hard look.
“Who are you?” Garrick looked their way and started toward them.
“Me?” the man answered with a clear Russian accent. “I am nobody. Officially I am told.”
“This is Jurek Vadik.”
Devon shifted his attention to the major standing off to the Russian’s right. “I’m Major Polke. We’ve been transferred to General Slynn now that—”
“Now that some of your little lab-coat men have decided I am not going to eat your children and pick my teeth with their bones.” He gave a huge smile and pointed at Devon. “I am enjoying the entertainment already. If the rest of you Operatives are as much idiots as you, I am going to think I am at the…fun park…you call it…Disneyland.”
Jurek poured himself a cup of coffee and wrapped the mug in one hand. “What else do you do for fun around here besides being stupid?”
“Nothing.” Sonya came through the door and answered with a little sigh. “So you’re the new guy. Slynn told me to watch out for your charm.”
Jurek set his coffee aside and offered her an innocent look. “How could I be anything less than charming when in the company of so stunning a creature like yourself?” He extended his hand toward her and her cheeks flushed. She placed her hand in his and he lifted it to his lips.
But Major Lorance snagged Sonya’s hand and walked right between them. “Like a daughter to me, Vadik, and she knows when you’re lying to her.”
Sonya went off with her C.O., but not before she looked back at the Russian. “See? Nothing fun ever happens.”
Jurek tilted his head to the side and flattened his hand over his heart. Major Polke cleared his throat, bringing Jurek’s attention back to him. “Would you rather I was as stupid as this one?” He gestured with his thumb at Devon.
“You’re mighty free with your opinions,” Devon remarked, indulging in the urge to let his temper loose.
Jurek’s expression tightened, his teasing demeanor evaporating as he stared Devon down. “What is the point of not being honest when you would know I was lying to you before the words finished crossing my lips? I do think you are stupid, it is not trying to get under your skin bullshit.”
Devon felt some of his temper sizzle out as Jurek retrieved his coffee and watched him through cobalt-blue eyes. “I never asked for your opinion.”
Devon turned toward the door but a crusty chuckle from the Russian stopped him.
“If you have your break up…in the open, expect a critique.”
Devon faced the man and raked him with a hard glare. “I expect you to keep out of my affairs.”
Polke tried to interrupt, but Jurek lifted one finger and pointed at the major. Polke looked undecided as he watched his Operative.
Jurek chuckled again. “I am not the one who cuts the heart of a woman who offers you her devotion.” The Russian left his coffee and stepped up to peer at Devon. “You would willingly spend your future with women who want nothing from you but the pleasure of the flesh. For some men, it is acceptable. But you feel deeper, know the woman you hold in a way only you and I can understand. I say you are stupid for pushing away one who loves you, because love is a rare thing and even rarer is the blessing of being able to embrace it.” He jabbed Devon in the chest. “Stupid man.”
Devon shoved him back, but the Russian’s eyes only lit with growing excitement. Polke tried to step in but it was Gennaro who stopped him.
The urge to take a swing at Jurek was overridden. Devon turned to look at Garrick, trying to decide why his C.O. was suddenly standing back. He went right into his mind searching for the answer. Garrick gritted his teeth but stood still.
“You…agree?” Devon asked incredulously. “Since when?”
“Since I was standing close enough to feel your feelings when Kalin walked out the door.” Garrick locked gazes with him.
Devon felt the blow connect, shattering the façade of excuses he’d built to keep him from seeing just how much Kalin meant to him. It left him facing his need for her and opened up a link between them that let her despair flow straight into him. It twisted his gut. But what made him start after her was the pain it sent through his heart.
“You are…welcome,” Jurek said, but Devon was gone. Polke eyed him with confusion. Garrick gazed at the Russian as Jurek sat and leaned against the wall with one knee bent on the booth seat. “Sometimes…we men, need the—how do you say in English?—kick in the ass.”
His demeanor became pensive, his eyes darkening as he sipped the coffee. Garrick watched him for a long moment, recognizing the look of a man who had dark secrets eating at his soul. The Russian shut everyone out and nursed the coffee.
Garrick found himself alone and facing the fact that he’d helped Devon remain cut off by being his companion. He pulled his phone out and searched through it for Monica’s number.
Devon wasn’t the only stupid one when it came to women.
Kalin opened the door to her quarters without turning on the light. She sent it closed with a hard push and ran into something. She cussed and fumbled for the light switch. Her shin was smarting as the light flooded the room, showing her the ten plastic bins that held her belongings.
“Wonderful.”
“I thought you wanted clean underwear?”
She squealed and turned on Devon, but he was already through the door and closed it with a slam.
“These are my quarters.”
He crossed his arms over his chest, looking impossibly big and hard and everything she craved.
“So tell me to leave.” His tone was impossibly dark and full of promise. Everything she longed for, promising her the sanctuary she needed so badly.
But for how long?
“I don’t know.” He punched the light off and folded her into his embrace in the same motion.
“I don’t know, Kalin.” He crushed her against his chest, seeking out her mouth and claiming it with a hungry kiss.
He didn’t know? Well, she knew how good he felt against her. He dropped his defenses, passion overriding his self-discipline. Their minds mingled, relieving the panic that had been gripping her.
He wasn’t the only one who couldn’t maintain self-discipline when they were together. She reached for him, clawing at his clothing, trying to tear it away and leave her with only the man she craved.
Sometime later, Kalin listened to the sound of Devon’s breathing. She savored the moment, fearing the approach of dawn because she knew daylight would steal him away from her.
She honestly didn’t know how she was going to bear it.
The restricted section of base was a quiet one. It was the place secrets were discussed in dark corners and behind soundproofed walls. The hangars hid classified aircraft and the men who manned them didn’t want to be recognized.
It made it more of a challenge to be a spy. Yet in some ways, it made it simple. A lone figure leaned against a hangar in the shadow as he watched the block of quarters Devon Ross had followed Kalin Smith into. The light was out and there was no doubt what they were doing.
For once, Major Gennaro wasn’t in sight. It was a prime opportunity to gather information on the psychic because he was absorbed with his partner.
But he didn’t want to push his luck. He moved on, making sure to stay away from Sonya Roberts. Intel on her claimed she could spot dishonesty from a hundred yards away. He slipped
along the fence line, searching for Grace Campbell. Her baby would give him enough money to live anywhere in the world.
Just one little baby.
If her unit dropped the ball and let her out of their sight, he wouldn’t even have to wait for her to deliver. He could just cut it from her body.
He pulled a large bowie knife from a scabbard strapped to his belt and tested the blade.
Perfect.
Chapter Seven
Devon was getting dressed when she opened her eyes.
Kalin watched the way he adjusted his clothing before reaching for his gun belt. He locked it into place and reached down to secure the strap that went around his upper thigh. She lifted her head but he didn’t look her way.
Of course not, he’d known the moment she woke up. She could feel him. The gun was sitting on the corner of the bed, within easy reach. He palmed it with an ease that sent a little chill across her skin.
That gained his attention. But he slid the weapon into his holster at the same time that he gave her his attention.
“Don’t do that.”
He lifted one of his dark eyebrows in question. Kalin sat up, hugging the rumpled bedding to her chest to ward off the early morning chill.
“Don’t hide behind your wall while you wait to see what I think of you.”
“You think I like knowing I scare you?” He retreated further, sealing himself against something he fully expected her to say.
“You…” she pointed at him, “…don’t scare me.”
He snorted. “I felt that ripple.”
“Your lifestyle wigs me out a little, but mostly because you retreat behind it like a shield.”
Surprise flickered in his eyes and she felt him lowering his defenses. Just enough to feel her out. She tossed the comforter aside and watched him lose focus, his gaze sweeping down her length before rising to settle on her bare breasts.
“I’m so sorry, Devon.” She stood and moved closer. “Did I distract you? I know how you hate that.”
He jerked his attention back up to her face. “Don’t tease.”
“Why?” she asked. “Because you’re the one getting wigged out by the concept of being comfortable some place other than your solitary lifestyle?”
