Mac groaned again, pummeled her pillow into submission one more time, and flopped face down. Thirty seconds later, she flounced onto her back and kicked the covers off. It was too damn hot in here.
The house was almost creepy quiet. Earlier she’d heard a wolf howl, the eerie sound amplifying the loneliness in her heart. Was Maria lying awake as well, hurting? Mac should have insisted she have something to eat instead of staying in her room with the door closed all day. Brady and Mac had fixed meatloaf sandwiches for dinner about six o’clock, and still no Maria. They’d fixed her a plate, covered it with plastic wrap, and left it in the refrigerator in case she got up in the night. So far, Mac hadn’t heard anything from the room next door.
Hopefully, tomorrow they would catch a ride out of here, away from Hernandez and the little town she’d called home all her life. Her parents would be worried sick if the news about Paddy and Mac’s supposed guilt had reached them in Anchorage. She’d contact them as soon as it was safe. The last thing she wanted to do was call Hernandez’s attention to them. Her brother, Ray, had joined the Air Force a year and a half ago and was now stationed in Guam. They’d never been all that close. She had a few good friends she got together with once in a while. She could just see them on the evening news saying: Samantha was always kind of a loner, but we never thought she’d kill someone. Her short list of ex-boyfriends would probably think her name sounded vaguely familiar.
Other than that, she had no one but Paddy. She’d stayed in Sitka primarily because of him, and now that he was gone, perhaps moving on was the right thing for her. People started over all the time. Mac could manage too.
It was a darn shame Jim Brady couldn’t be in her plan for a do-over. A smirk teased her lips. Did he even realize how incredibly sexy he was with his firm muscles, ruggedly handsome face, and those smoldering eyes?
She yawned and brought up a hand to cover her mouth. If only that meant she was ready to fall asleep. Closing her eyes, she concentrated on breathing as though sleep were actually possible. It couldn’t hurt, right? In slowly . . . out slowly . . . in—
Her eyes popped open and she lay absolutely still, sampling the air again. There was something—
Smoke!
Mac leapt from the bed, her heart pounding, and rushed to the door. Remembering her fire safety classes from school, she placed the palm of her hand on the wood. No abnormal heat. She jerked it open . . . and stepped into hell.
Fire consumed the small kitchen, floor to ceiling. The table where she and Brady had eaten and talked while they ate their dinner sat cockeyed, two of its legs burned away and the other two soon to follow. The walls on both sides of the front entrance were ablaze, making escape in that direction impossible. Flames licked hungrily on the far edge of Maria’s room, blackening everything in its path as the fire crawled ever closer.
Mac raced through the other woman’s doorway. “Maria! Maria!”
Maria squinted at her from the bed. In the spreading light of the fire, Mac could read the alarm in Maria’s expression the instant she comprehended the meaning of the red glow from the other room and the ever-thickening smoke in the air. Her eyes grew wide, and she clawed to the edge of the bed.
“Grab your shoes and your bag.” Mac started toward the door.
“Did he find us?” Maria quickly slipped her boots on and followed.
Mac didn’t need to be told who Maria was referring to—Hernandez—but it hadn’t occurred to Mac that this was anything but a tragic house fire. “I don’t think so, but we have to get out of here.”
Staying low, the two women darted toward Mac’s room. Brady almost bowled them over as he exited with her bag and her hiking boots in his hands at the same time Mac tried to enter. Relief flashed briefly in his eyes when she met his gaze.
“Let’s get out of here.” Brady didn’t give them time to think about the situation. His two bags and the rifle were piled in the hallway leading to the mudroom and the back door. He grabbed his things and went ahead of them as they hurried through the smoke toward their only escape.
When they were all inside the mudroom, Brady closed the door. “Get dressed. It’s cold out there.”
Mac looked down, only then realizing she was wearing the T-shirt he’d loaned her to sleep in the night before. It covered her bottom, but not much else. Oh well. The house was burning down around their ears. That automatically made this an acceptable place to walk around half naked, and Brady could just deal with it.
As he turned his attention to inspecting the rifle, or whatever military types did with guns, she quickly covered herself and slipped into her boots, lacing them up. Maria was donning her jacket when Mac walked toward the door and peered out the window into the darkness.
“Mac! Get down!”
Startled, she swung around. Brady had already dropped the rifle and was sprinting the ten feet that separated them. He tackled her, his sudden weight forcing the air from her lungs as he brought her down, sandwiched between the wall and his equally unyielding body. As she sucked in a breath to demand he get off of her, the crack of a high-caliber weapon echoed from somewhere close at hand. The window she’d been gazing out of seconds ago exploded inward, spewing shattered pieces of glass across them and the floor halfway to where Maria crouched, covering her ears.
“Oh my God!” Mac instinctively raised her arms to protect her head only to find that Brady was already shielding her. She was only too happy to let him since her entire body had gone weak with fear. Fury radiated from him in waves, and his heart pounded hard but steady against her breast.
“Shit, Mac.” There was a slight tremble in his voice.
On impulse, she reached out and caressed his rough cheek, but drew back quickly when he flinched away.
Brady leapt to his feet and brought Mac up beside him, backing her against the wall. “I think it’s safe to say the shooter is the same person who torched the house. There’s probably more than one of them, and sooner or later they’ll come to check on their handiwork.”
“Torched . . . someone set the house on fire? On purpose?” Her thoughts swirled as her mind rejected the idea that another human being had started a fire to kill them. Yet there was no question whoever had pulled the trigger and blown out the double-paned window two feet from her had meant to take a life. “How did you know there was someone out there?” She searched his face.
“A hunch. If it were me, I’d have at least two shooters outside.” Brady glanced away and stepped back. “Mac, I need you to get down low and scoot back with Maria. Whatever happens, I want you to stay there until I give you the all-clear. Understand?”
“What are you going to do?”
A muscle flexed near his jaw. “I won’t let anyone hurt either of you. Trust me on that.”
Did she have any choice at this particular moment in time? She nodded, trying to school her expression so he wouldn’t know she was scared out of her mind.
“Go.” He jerked his head toward Maria.
Mac bent at the waist, ducked her head, and ran to the opposite side of the room. She knelt down beside a shaking Maria and gave her the instructions Brady had issued. Smoke was filtering under the door now, and it wouldn’t be long before they’d be forced to go outside even if someone was waiting out there to shoot them like fish in a pond.
Mac’s gaze darted toward the broken window. Had she just heard something out there? Brady put his finger to his lips and pressed himself between the wall and a storage cabinet to the right of the door. He’d evidently heard it too.
They waited, not moving, barely breathing. Just when she was willing to admit there was no one there, the door splintered and flew open. A stranger with a hunting rifle stepped slowly into the room. His hard, dark eyes drilled straight through Mac.
“Found ’em.” He spoke into something on his wrist as a smirk announced his satisfaction with how things were going. Suddenly, he seemed to remember that he was one short and swept his gaze around the room.
He was too sl
ow, and Brady moved like a panther—quickly, silently, and deadly. He made absolutely no sound as he covered the distance between them, approaching the man from behind. Wrapping one arm around the gunman’s throat and jerking him off balance, Brady reached around him with his other hand, grabbed the back of his head, and twisted. A sickening snap and the way the man dropped like a fallen tree told Mac his neck was broken.
She couldn’t help staring at the body, and when her gaze rose to Brady, he was watching her. No emotion glimmered in his eyes. Mac attempted to stand, more than ready to see the last of this place, but Brady pointed at her and Maria, and his message was clear. They weren’t done here yet.
They didn’t have long to wait. Only a few minutes had passed when another man, who apparently moved as quietly as Brady, appeared in the doorway. His cold gaze took in his dead partner before coming to rest on Mac and Maria.
He snorted a laugh. “Well, lookie here. Did you two sweet little things surprise my friend? Or did you have some help? Don’t worry. I’ll have a look around after I’m through here.” His leering gaze shifted to Maria. “You—come with me. Somebody wants you alive.” He shifted his weight slightly and stared through Mac. “Too bad you had to stick your nose in this. The party’s over for you. A damn shame as far as I can see.”
Mac tensed as he raised his handgun, pointing the large barrel at her face. She resisted the almost overwhelming urge to cower. She wouldn’t give him the satisfaction. Her black bag sat on the floor behind Maria. With thoughts of Paddy streaming through her mind, she pulled out his Glock, released the safety, and leveled it at the man behind the rifle.
The stranger’s dark eyes registered a heartbeat of surprise, but otherwise he didn’t even flinch. It made no difference. She aimed and fired, and then fired again, intending to keep pulling the trigger until no one was left standing . . . just like Brady said.
Her first shot hit his gun, knocking it sideways and throwing him partially off balance. A complete fluke evidently, since her next two shots sailed harmlessly by him. At the same time, Brady slipped from hiding and let fly with his vicious-looking blade.
The man jerked, dropped to his knees, and his weapon clattered to the floor. He toppled onto his face with Brady’s knife sticking from his back. Mac stared in revulsion as Brady strode to the man, wrenched his knife free, and cleaned it on the gunman’s shirt before seating it back in its sheath.
He searched the men for identification but found nothing. “Let’s go.” He grabbed his bags and the rifle and turned toward them expectantly.
Maria had climbed to her feet and hefted her bag, but Mac’s legs were apparently made entirely of rubber. She hadn’t been able to quiet her breathing, and any minute she was sure she’d be sick. Brady’s look of sympathy did nothing to ease her discomfort.
He approached her, took the gun, put the safety on, then placed it back in her bag. “We can rest a couple minutes. In the meantime, hand over your cell phones. I should have done this a long time ago.” He took the phones they handed him.
“Should have done what?” Maria released hers reluctantly.
“Gotten rid of them. Phones have a GPS system that can be used to track a person. I should have realized we had a problem when the bad guys kept showing up at the same places we were.” Brady left the devices lying on the dryer. “Let’s get out of here. Smoke’s getting heavier.” He bent toward Mac and helped her up.
“What about your phone?” Mac lifted her bag and clutched it in front of her.
“It’s different. No one finds me unless I want them to.” Brady put his hand on her back, and they followed Maria onto the deck. He stopped and slipped his backpack on while he studied Mac. “You up to this?”
She smiled fleetingly, suffering every minute of the sleep she hadn’t gotten. “Is there another option?” The concern in his gaze succeeded in making her feel like a whiner. She straightened and took a deep breath, vowing that she wouldn’t be the one who couldn’t keep up. Yes—she felt tired and queasy, and a little like her world had imploded, but she was still alive and there had to be a reason she’d been spared. So just keep on goin’, girl.
Brady grinned like he was inside her head reading her thoughts, and it brought out a previously unseen dimple in his left cheek. He sobered and glanced toward the tree line, a dark shadow in the moonlight. “Stick close—both of you.” With the fast pace he set, they left the burning house behind and were soon trudging through the wilderness area that had briefly been their backyard. After several hundred feet, they stopped on a slope facing back the way they’d come.
From there, they caught glimpses of the flames shooting into the air, devouring the rustic log cabin that was supposed to be their safe house. A growing anger burned in Mac’s veins. How much more life and property would be lost? Was nothing safe from these tyrants?
When Brady started walking again, Mac used her rage to force one foot in front of the other. Fatigue and hopelessness would not get the best of her. Not while Paddy’s death cried for justice, and not while she and Maria were being stalked and threatened.
For the second time in less than twenty-four hours, she’d come face-to-face with someone who would have killed her without thinking twice. Both times Brady had saved her life. He’d killed three men, all with their sights on her, in the short time she’d known him. What did that make him? Assassin? Or savior?
She nearly ran into the back of Maria when the woman stopped abruptly. Mac had been so wrapped up in her thoughts she wasn’t sure which direction they’d gone or how far they’d walked.
Brady had removed his backpack, set the rest of his possessions next to a tree, and slid his knife from its sheath. “We’ve got a couple hours until daylight. You should try to get some sleep.”
Maria snorted and mumbled something about bears before she folded her arms and turned her back.
Mac covered her mouth to keep from laughing aloud at the poor woman’s obvious fear. She met Brady’s gaze and saw the same amusement there. He winked, and a strangely warm and comfortable feeling stole over her. Definitely savior.
He began hacking pine boughs from several small trees and arranging them in mats for sleeping. More boughs were piled close to each mat, which Mac assumed were for covering them. As soon as he finished that task, he cleared a spot nearby, circled it with rocks, and started a fire. Soon the heat radiated out several feet, warming Mac and making her sleepy.
“Is it a good idea to start a fire? What if there are more of them?” She watched him throw another armload of dry limbs into the pit.
He moved over to stand beside her. “I don’t think there’s anyone within radio distance. Those men both wore transmitters and receivers. The first one let the second one know he’d found us. The second one didn’t try to send a message. I’m pretty sure we’re alone for now.”
“Thank goodness. I’ve never been so scared in my life. Will this ever be over?” Mac looked sideways at him.
“I talked to Joe when I went to the car earlier. He’s sending a friend with a helicopter to pick us up about nine in the morning. He’ll get us close to an airport in Canada where we can catch a ride to Montana. Once we get on that chopper, we’ll be home free. You don’t ever have to come back if you don’t want to.”
“That would mean Paddy’s murderer would get away with it.” She stared into the fire, the flames mesmerizing her.
Maria stepped toward one of the pine mats. “Can’t hold my eyes open any longer. I’m going to get some sleep.” She lay down and drew two boughs over herself. Before long, her even breaths indicated she was sleeping soundly.
Brady took a walk through the nearby trees, scavenging for dry wood, and returned with a huge armload, which he piled close to the campfire. He threw two more pieces on the dwindling flames and then retraced his steps to Mac’s side.
The quiet was only broken by the crackling of the flames as sparks spewed toward the sky. Mac felt the warmth of his gaze on her cheek and turned to see him appraising he
r. As soon as their eyes met, something dark and painful flashed in his for the space of a breath, and that muscle in his jaw ticked.
“I’m sorry you had to go through that back there. You were . . . brave as hell.”
“Right. Bravely scared out of my mind.” Mac laughed.
He smiled, but it faded quickly. “Couldn’t tell it from where I stood. Most people don’t run toward the fire, but you did to get Maria out, and you’re getting the hang of that Glock . . . we’re a good team.” Looking away, he shoved his hands in the front pockets of his jeans. “I’m proud of you.”
She studied the side of his face since he refused to meet her gaze. Surprise turned slowly to satisfaction. The man had just made a stab at opening up to her—a small first step—and she was grateful for every ounce of the privilege he’d accorded her. A little chink formed in her armor, and before she could stop herself, she reached out and touched his face, turning him to look at her.
God, she couldn’t help herself. Her body reacted to his husky voice, her nipples pebbling, and an ache of anticipation settled low in her stomach. She was drawn to kiss him, not caring at the moment that it would be a mistake. She took a step toward him.
He slid his hands from his pockets and reached for her, but before he made contact, he stopped, fisted his hands, and dropped them to his sides. A wistful smile surfaced. “Hold that thought, would ya, sugar? I’m gonna come back to it as soon as we get out of bear country.”
Heat rushed through Mac, and she was sure she turned three shades of red under his possessive stare. She cleared her throat and tried to reclaim a piece of her self-control. “Have you seen any bears?”
“Not yet, but Maria will have my hide if any get into camp on my watch.” He winked.
She laughed, but she was fairly sure they’d all agree with Maria on that subject.
Tempt the Night Page 11
