by Joan Swan
Keira had gone quiet since she’d ended her conversation with West. Luckily, it didn’t sound like he was in on the conspiracy, but that hadn’t improved Keira’s mood.
Over the last five minutes of their drive, she’d been concentrating on the photo. At least that’s what she appeared to be doing. His psychic connection to her must have intensified over the days they’d been together, because he could sense the dark shield she’d erected. And if he asked her whether she was okay one more time, she’d deck him. She’d projected that very warning. After that, she’d stopped projecting altogether. Put up a goddamned mental wall. The sweet, warm woman he’d made love to such a short time ago had been replaced with that stone-hard warrior.
Her hand pulled on the door handle before he’d even stopped the car. He shoved the SUV into park and grabbed her arm before she could bolt.
“Baby . . .” He waited until she looked at him, and the hollow pain in her eyes sparked an anxiety he thought he’d banished in the bedroom. Patience. Curb the fear. Don’t push. Don’t crowd. “Can you talk to me?”
“Not . . . now.” Her eyes darted away. She pulled away from his touch. “I’m . . . I’m sorry. I need some space.”
Keira climbed from the car and strode toward the front door while Luke turned off the engine and sat there with a knife in his ribs.
“Space?” he rasped in the empty car. “Space?”
The concept of space when they’d been as close as two people could be just an hour ago struck him as absurd. Then the nagging hurt that he’d been the only one to profess love in that bedroom returned. Yes, he knew, deep in his heart, she loved him. Yes, he’d felt it. But it would have been nice to hear the words from her mouth. As hot as it was to hear her ask for more, deeper, harder, right now he’d have preferred those other three little words. And this space bullshit only reinforced his lingering insecurities.
Patience, he told himself as he stepped into the house. He had to be patient and understanding and supportive. She was at one of the hardest crossroads of her life, and he had to be all the things he hadn’t been when she’d needed him at another crossroads. When he’d been blinded by what he had needed so desperately that he’d closed his fist too hard, and she’d slipped right from his grasp.
He wouldn’t let this go bad again. He wouldn’t.
As he crossed the threshold and shut the front door behind him, a familiar male voice sounded in the living area. Kai. “What the hell happened to you?”
“Crap,” another voice followed. Nearly as familiar as his own. Seth. The man who’d shared custody of Kat while Teague had been in prison. “Why didn’t you call us sooner?”
Alyssa already had both of them taming their normally far more colorful language.
“You didn’t give us much of a chance,” Teague said. “Everything’s been happening so damn fast.”
“That’s the way they work,” Seth said. “Faster than you can think. That’s why they’re still calling the fu—shots.”
“I’m fine.” Keira was in Kai’s arms when Luke turned the corner.
“Whoa.” Kai released Keira and stepped back, hands up, gaze flipping between her face and Luke’s. “There is one hell of a lot of sexual tension cluttering up this room right now.” He dropped his hands, pulled at the neck of his tee, and grinned at Luke. “Is it getting hot in here?”
“Shut the hell up, man.” Luke joined the group and shook Kai’s hand. “You have to run around in the shower to get wet? When are you gonna gain some weight?”
Their teammate hadn’t aged a damn day since Luke had last seen him a year before when he’d come to visit, but his dark hair was still too long, his once muscular body still too thin. Kai was still struggling with the aftermath of the fire—as it seemed they all were in their own way.
Luke reached over to Seth and shook his hand. He had aged. But not in physical years. Since his wife, Tara, had been shoved off that psychological edge by the bastards at DARPA, had murdered Teague’s girlfriend, and helped frame him for the crime, Seth had aged in years of the soul. It showed in his hollowed eyes.
“I’ve gained ten pounds.” Kai flexed his bicep, which was pure muscle, since he didn’t have an ounce of fat on him. “Can’t you tell? Been working out. Drinking protein shakes.” He pointed at Keira, who sported a dim smile listening to their conversation. “Now that little girl doesn’t look so good.”
She walked to the kitchen counter where Seth stood to hug him, then darted a look around the living room. “Where’s Mateo?”
“In Kat’s room,” Alyssa said from where she’d curled into one corner of the sofa. “One of Mitch’s guys is in there with them. They’re fine.”
One of Mitch’s guys. Must have pulled in more Special Forces contacts. Which was not a good sign.
But Keira didn’t listen. She headed toward the back of the house where the bedrooms were, with that nervous I-have-to-see-him-for-myself look. Luke cut her off and took her arm gently.
“Don’t get him riled up,” he said in an undertone he hoped only Keira heard. “He’ll sense your nerves.”
Luke tuned into the heat of her skin beneath his hand, the electric waves between them. But he heard nothing. Yep, she’d shut him out.
Patience. Curb the fear.
“I’m just going to peek.” She deliberately stepped out of reach.
Luke clenched his teeth and waited.
Like an overprotective mother hen, she peered around the doorjamb and made a little finger wave. By the lack of Mateo’s voice flowering in his typical “Thia,” Luke knew she’d gestured to whatever bodyguard hovered, unnoticed by the kids.
She backed away from the door and passed Luke with a flick of her eyes and a brief press of her hand to his chest. Sweet. Thoughtful. Loving. A silent gesture of appreciation and acknowledgment. Apology.
Before she could pass, he grabbed her hand, closed his eyes, and pressed her palm to his mouth. She didn’t pull away. As his lips lingered against her warm skin, the tips of her fingers brushed his cheek. And when he opened his eyes, he didn’t have to read minds to translate the love and regret in her heart. The same look she’d given him the day she’d come to the house to say good-bye before she’d left for the academy.
He lowered her hand, but held on. I can’t lose you now. “Please don’t shut me out.”
A film shadowed the blue of her eyes. “I’m trying.”
He followed her into the living room, where everyone had gone quiet and every pair of eyes had been watching their interaction.
Teague’s brows tugged in a frown, his eyes scanning Keira. “That’s not what you were wearing—”
Keira stopped in her path and pointed at him. “Don’t.”
Teague smirked. “Is his head out of his ass?”
“His is,” she muttered, and trudged across the room, looking about ready to punch a wall. “Mine’s now screwed.”
“Mitch,” she said, turning on him as if she were about to close her hands around someone’s neck and shake. “What about those things in Mateo’s head? Are they going to hurt him? Can we get them out?”
“I turned the medical stuff over to Alyssa, but I did find out that these puppies”—he pointed to the coffee table, where the chip sat still wrapped in foil—“were produced at Millennium Manufacturing. They make big noise about being a private company—”
“But everyone knows they’re a government contractor,” Kai finished. “And I’ll give you one guess who used to be their CEO before she went back into public service.”
“Dargan,” Luke said.
“Bingo.” Kai made a gun with his fingers and shot at Luke. “Double or nothing if you can tell me who still owns big, big stock numbers in M & M. Here’s a hint—it’s not Dargan.”
The room went silent. Eyes skipped around. Finally, Mitch said, “Our friend, Senator Schaeffer.”
Luke scraped fingers across his scalp. “This is the kind of sh—stuff that makes people go postal.”
“I’m
still tracking down the developer,” Mitch said.
“What about Mateo?” Keira asked, turning a sharp focus on Alyssa.
“I contacted a friend from medical school who went into neurology and now specializes in the treatment of spinal cord defects and injuries.” Alyssa balanced a sheaf of papers on her curled-up legs. “He doesn’t believe they can be manipulated without the control center. That chip we took out of his neck.”
Keira’s dark brows raised. “Believe? I can’t trust Mateo’s health on a belief. How can we get them out?”
Alyssa removed the reading glasses resting low on her nose. “We can’t. Not without risking a lot more of his health than is at risk by leaving them in. The brain is an incredibly complex structure. As underdiscovered as the universe. There are areas that could be irreparably damaged.
“It would require extensive surgery, which always comes with incredibly high risks. It would require a specialist, which I don’t even know exists beyond the person who put these in. All of Rostov’s research has been confiscated or torched, so we’ll never even know if that person is still alive. It’s not at all feasible to take them out.”
With each statement Keira’s shoulders crawled closer to her ears. “We can’t just leave them in there.”
“Think of it as a bullet too near the spinal column for surgery. Didn’t that happen to one of your colleagues?”
Keira rubbed her temple. “Yes, but—”
“And isn’t he still fully functional? Healthy? Normal?”
“Yes, but—”
“But what?” Alyssa’s doctor voice geared up. Firm, no-nonsense, I’ve-had-enough-of-your-bullshit. “Would you rather see Mateo as a vegetable, Keira, for your own peace of mind?”
“Of course not.” She dropped her hands and started pacing. “That’s a stupid thing to say.”
“Seems like the only thing that gets your head back on straight.”
Luke intervened before the two strongest women he’d ever known got into a blowout he knew neither of them wanted and both would regret. “We’re pretty sure he’s her nephew.”
All eyes turned toward Luke. “Mateo,” he clarified, waving a hand toward the room where the kids played. “Just like he told us. Her brother’s son.”
“We thought he might be.” Alyssa uncurled from the sofa and sat up, her attention returning to Keira. “Mitch followed Cash’s path until three years ago, when he seemed to disappear. And he was stationed in Greece for several years. We assumed he . . .”
“He’s not dead.” Keira slid Cash’s photo from the back pocket of her jeans and walked it over to Alyssa, who cast a disapproving glance at Mitch as she took it.
“Hey—” Mitch held up both hands in a surrendering gesture. “I’ve had, what, fifteen minutes to look into his background? Give me a break.”
Alyssa took the photo and pulled Keira onto the sofa next to her. “What’s going on?”
Keira propped her elbows on her knees. “The brother I thought was dead is alive and either working for or imprisoned by the same spies who make us live looking over our shoulders. I’ve probably got a nephew I didn’t know existed who has been used as a science experiment. And I can barely talk to him because he only speaks Greek.” She pushed from the sofa to pace again. “I don’t know what the hell is going on.”
Alyssa looked at the photo in her hand with a frown. Her brows shot up. “Wow. You two look a lot alike.”
Seth pushed off the kitchen island and held his hand out. “Let me see. Why aren’t you reading it?”
“I’ve tried. I’m getting . . .” Keira cut an angry glance at Luke. “Interference.”
Teague snorted a laugh.
Kai sent an assessing look between them. “You two . . . back together?”
“Yes,” Luke said.
“No,” Keira said at the same time.
What the . . . ?
“Excuse me?” He hooked his thumb toward the front door, which also happened to be the direction of his house. “After—”
“Maybe. God”—she pressed both hands to her temples and closed her eyes—“I don’t know.”
Damn. That hurt. “Sorry that topic is so miserable for you to contemplate.”
“Luke.” She sighed. “It’s not. I’m sorry.”
She had a headache coming on. He could see it in her eyes. And, yeah, he felt guilty for being petty and sensitive when she had such big things on her mind. But that didn’t ease the pain of what felt like the beginnings of another change of her heart.
SEVENTEEN
Keira couldn’t look at Luke. Her guts were already shredded. She’d gone from the most perfect morning to the most horrendous afternoon, and she knew she wasn’t processing well.
She’d kept Luke’s thoughts out for the most part, but hadn’t lied about getting interference on the photo. Not exactly. She’d been tormented by ugly memories from her childhood—the emotional abuse, the drunken beatings, the fire, and hadn’t been able to get anything directly from Cash.
The news about her brother and Mateo hit her like the explosion at the ranch. That, along with her memories from the past and Luke’s angry reaction to them, had her seriously second-guessing this whole reunion.
Had she really thought she could give him that family he wanted?
She’d jumped the gun. Been so caught up in her love for him, his overwhelming confidence, she’d thought . . . maybe. That had been so unfair of her. To offer him hope of the one thing he wanted most only to yank it away. Worse than unfair, it had been cruel. Selfish. A perfect example of why she shouldn’t be a mother. And the thought of someone hurting their baby the way Mateo had been hurt, the way her brother had been hurt . . .
Her throat closed with terror.
“Keira?” Alyssa was beside her, saying something, but she sounded like she was deep underground. “Keira, look at me. What’s wrong?”
She opened her mouth, but couldn’t speak. Because she couldn’t breathe.
Luke clasped her face in both hands. She automatically dug her fingers into his forearms. He met her eyes and held them. His so deep blue, so confident, so focused.
“Breathe,” he ordered, but in a voice filled with supreme calm. His hands tightened on her face. “You’re okay. You’re safe. Just breathe.”
He gave her head a little shake, cracking the wall of panic. Her throat opened, scraped in air.
“There you go.” His hands loosened, but he didn’t let go. “Everything’s going to be okay. I’m here. You’re safe.”
As air fed her brain, the panic released its grip and her vision cleared. Adrenaline receded, leaving her shaky and sweating and cold.
“Okay.” Luke slid both arms around her shoulders and pulled her close. “It’s over. You’re good now.”
Keira curled into Luke’s warmth. She pressed her face against the soft cotton of his shirt, the supple muscle beneath, and took a long deep breath of him. Instant relief.
“Since when does she have panic attacks?” Alyssa asked from nearby.
“The fire,” Luke said, now stroking her hair. “Since that goddamned warehouse fire.”
She squeezed her eyes tight. Gratitude washed over her. He was protecting her from the embarrassment of her childhood. Though this was new, there was no earthy scent nearby. God, she hoped this was a fluke. She didn’t need another problematic issue.
Something touched her leg. Heat shot up her thigh, wound around her lower back, setting it on fire. Warmth pervaded her belly, her chest, suffused her limbs. Her chill abated.
“Thia?”
“Not now, baby.” Alyssa pulled Mateo into her arms. “Where’s Kitty-Cat? Kat?” she called down the hall.
“No.” Keira turned out of Luke’s arms and reached for Mateo. “No, I want him.”
The grin that lit Mateo’s face burned a bittersweet path through Keira’s heart. He reached for her with both arms, and Keira dragged him close. As if he sensed her need, he held tight.
She exhaled, long and sl
ow, and squeezed her eyes against the burn of tears. Her nephew. She had no doubt. This boy was her flesh and blood. Her family.
“He’d be in one of these locations.” Mitch’s voice cut into Keira’s relief. She shifted Mateo to a seat in her arms and looked across the room where the men had gathered around the dining room table with a map spread across the surface.
Keira joined the group. A map of the United States had been marked with different-colored dot stickers.
“These are all the testing facilities in the U.S.” Kai said. “Red are labs, green—headquarters, yellow—bunkers . . .”
“Freaking A.” Seth fisted his hands against the tabletop and leaned into his knuckles. “There are dozens. How are we going to know—?”
“Baba!” Mateo leaned toward the table, almost falling out of Keira’s arms as he pointed.
Keira set him on his knees, and he crawled across the bottom of the map to plant his finger on a red dot in the middle of the Nevada desert. He looked over his shoulder with excitement bouncing in his eyes and Greek pouring out of his mouth, but the only thing Keira could understand was, “baba” as he repeated it.
She darted a look at Mitch. “Get Panos on the phone.”
Mitch dialed, spoke to Panos for a moment, then put his cell on speaker. After speaking with Mateo, Panos said, “This is where his father lives. Baba is what children call their fathers in Greece.”
Keira crossed her arms, trying to repress all the crazy emotions coiling in her chest. “How does he know?”
“He says he can see him. He says”—Panos paused as Mateo spoke again—“He is almost done with his work and he will be leaving soon. He is coming home.”
“Home? Where’s home?” Keira tried to wrap her mind around Mateo’s ability. “Greece? Here?”
“This kid is a remote viewer?” Seth asked, shocked.
Keira shrugged. “We don’t know much about his skill or accuracy. Panos,” she said, “can you ask him what his father is doing right now?”
Mateo pressed the palm of his hand over the red dot, closing his eyes. Then he spoke and Panos translated.
