by Cherry Adair
“She’ll have to give a statement and the attorney will subpoena her to testify. He’d better be damn good.”
“He is.”
Yeah. Simon had checked. McKay was an excellent attorney. While Davis’s team had been searching for Kess’s only witness, Simon had the legal department check out McKay. Kess was in good hands and had T-FLAC’s legal eagles for backup. While she did her job here, Simon was ensuring that her legal troubles disappeared.
“How come I’ve slept for hours and I’m still tired?” Kess asked. She yawned, then stretched, looking around to see where they were.
“Stress,” Simon told her as they pulled into the parking lot behind the hotel. His hotel.
They’d eaten alone after all. The doctor was too busy to join them. They hadn’t lingered; the food and the depressing atmosphere weren’t exactly conducive to a romantic evening together. By mutual agreement they’d driven back to Quinisela instead of teleporting. Kess, lulled by the movement, had dozed most of the way back.
“Who do you think is doing the gene-splicing?” she asked, rubbing her eyes, trying to wake up fully. The parking lot was large, and dark, as clouds covered what had been an almost full moon earlier. The black clouds were ringed with silver as the moon tried to penetrate. It was pretty in a creepy, vampire way…“Please don’t tell me the president.”
“He’s the first person that comes to mind,” Simon admitted, getting out of the car. He came around to open her door, a sweetly chivalrous action that he did without fanfare. “But there’s someone else I believe has a lot more to gain.”
Kess let out a sigh of relief. “Good, because I like Mr. Bongani, and I’d hate to hate him if he’s responsible for all these deaths.”
She threaded her fingers between his. Simon’s hand was reassuringly solid, his cool, strong fingers twined with hers. It was a simple pleasure to hold hands companionably as they walked, their steps matching. She loved the way he slowed to accommodate her shorter stride.
“Who do you think it is?” she asked as they crossed the pitted and weed-infested parking lot to go around to the front entrance. The air smelled strongly of the ocean, which was just across the road. It also smelled of dank, heavy expectancy, as if it was about to rain any minute.
“There’s a South African wizard, head of a terrorist group called the Phoenix. I had a run-in with him the other day.” Simon’s tone was grim, his jaw set. “He’s powerful, determined, and here.”
A shiver danced up her spine. “Here in Quinisela?”
“No. But in Mallaruza.”
“It’s a fairly big country, he could be anywhere. Maybe he’s gone.”
“He’s not gone, I can assure you. But he’s not anywhere nearby. I’d know if he were within a hundred miles.”
“Is he as strong as you are?”
“Stronger.”
She gripped his hand a little tighter. “Oh, great. As if there wasn’t enough weird crap going on already.”
“If Abi is involved with this guy we have cause to be concerned. Joubert is incredibly powerful, and if he wants something I suspect he’ll stop at nothing to get it.”
“Concerned? I’m allowed to be scared.” She glanced up at his grim expression and a shiver of apprehension shook her body. She stepped in a little closer. “You, however, are not.”
“Oh, I’m scared, believe me. I’d be damn stupid not to be. Nothing wrong with being scared shitless. It’s all in how you handle your fear.”
This was arachnophobia times a hundred.
They turned the corner of the building where it was considerably lighter due to the enormous working lights on the basilica a couple of blocks down the street. The lit-up basilica looked like a storybook castle. Pale glittering marble from Italy, exquisite stained-glass windows from France, and tall spires.
“I don’t think I’ve ever been this scared in my life,” Kess said, startled by the admission, and ridiculously happy to be out of the dark parking lot. She’d feel even better with a solid building around them. “I don’t mean scared because I was about to get a speeding ticket, or even scared that I might go to jail for the rest of my natural life if this court thing goes to hell in a handbasket—I mean really, truly, deep down terrified.”
Simon stopped, bringing his free hand up to cup her chin. His eyes glittered. “And now you are?”
Kess bit her lip and nodded. “It started when we drove into camp the other day and I saw all those vultures, and has been insidiously building every day since. The trip to your headquarters, and everything Dr. Roberts told us, ratcheted it up a few more notches.”
He wrapped his arms around her, and she rested her forehead on the hard plane of his chest. His lips brushed her hair, and she was comforted by the steady beat of his heart. “I’m not going to let anything happen to you, Kess. I promise.”
She reached up and pressed two fingers over his mouth. “Don’t make promises you may not be able to keep.”
He kissed her fingers. “Trust me.”
“I do. But I also want you to teach me, or tell me, how to protect myself from this other wizard. I don’t want you to have to worry about keeping me safe if the guy goes totally off on us.”
“Nobody is going off on you.”
“From your lips.” She stood on tiptoe and brushed her mouth over his. “It’s late. Can we go to bed now?”
They almost didn’t make it to a bed. By the time they’d kissed their way across the empty lobby and traveled up four floors in the antiquated elevator, kissing and touching all the way, it was a miracle they managed to get the door open before they were naked.
The room was bright as day as it faced the ocean and the brilliant lights from the basilica. He wanted to see her, wanted to see what he was touching, what he was tasting. Kissing her, Simon backed her over to the bed, then it was a simple nudge that had her on her back, and his body flush against hers. He wanted to watch her expression as she came, he thought as he followed her down onto the lumpy mattress.
They made love with a kind of mad desperation that left them both filmed with sweat and satiated. “Shower?” Kess asked weakly. She was sprawled on top of him like a silky blanket.
“Good idea,” he mumbled against her damp neck. He didn’t move.
“Tonight, do you think?”
He was right on the brink of sleep. “Hmm.”
She trailed her fingers lightly across his ribs. “Are you ticklish?”
“Yes.” He rolled her over onto her belly, and slid over her body, bracing most of his weight on his arms. Sweeping her hair off her neck and shoulders, he bit her gently on the tender, pale skin of her nape. A shudder traveled the entire length of her body, and Simon felt every ripple all the way down his front.
“Oh, my God.” Her voice was muffled by the pillow. “That is seriously amazing. Do it again. A little harder…”
Simon bit a little harder, not enough to break the skin, but hard enough to know he’d leave a mark there. Mark her. Claim her. Brand her as his. He rolled her over. “Shower or here?”
Her eyes were glazed as she looked up at him. “Shower and here.”
“Yeah. What I thought too.”
They made love again. Slowly this time.
It was almost dawn by the time they dragged themselves into the shower. Still wet, they fell onto the rumpled sheets.
“Wake me up in a month,” Kess mumbled, pulling his arm over her eyes. There was hardly a place on her body that Simon didn’t know better than she knew herself. And vice versa. But a girl could only have so many good times before her body demanded rest.
“Election’s in two days.”
“There’s that.” A burst of love, so intense she could hardly contain it, swelled in her chest. She loved this man, and dollars to donuts he was going to break her heart when this was all over. Limp as she was, vulnerable as she felt, Kess tried to live in the moment and make the best of the time they had left together. Unfortunately, if they had sex again anytime soon, it might
very well kill her. There wasn’t a muscle or tendon in her body that wasn’t begging for mercy while she was grinning like a Cheshire cat.
She sighed. She couldn’t move. She really couldn’t. “I’m not going to be able to sleep with that light shining in. Can you close the drapes?”
“Sure.” After a few seconds she opened her eyes as he muttered, “Well, hell.” Gloriously naked, he got off the bed and padded across the room. Clearly his power wasn’t functioning or he would have closed the drapes from a prone position. She wondered what it must be like for him, losing so much of himself.
Scary. Not that she was complaining seeing him naked and full length. She admired Simon for having enough stamina to make it the three feet to the window. He didn’t have a spare ounce of fat on him. Annoying man. His back was broad, his hips narrow, and his bottom was a thing of beauty. Kess came back to life just looking at it. “What are you looking at?” she said huskily. “Come back to bed, I don’t think I’m done having my wicked way with you just yet after all.”
He smiled at her over his shoulder. “Hold that thought.” He held out his hand. “Come over here and tell me what you think that building looks like.”
With a put-upon groan, Kess levered herself off the bed and walked over to stand beside him. Wrapping her arm around his bare waist, she leaned her forehead against his upper arm and yawned. “What building? The basilica?”
“What does it remind you of?”
She squinted into the lights. “Cinderella’s castle?”
“Yeah. What I thought.” Absently he snugged her against his side, his arm around her shoulders. “That’s not any damned church. And that’s why Abi hasn’t had it consecrated yet. That’s not a basilica—it’s a palace.”
“I don’t think Disney would go over that well here—You’re serious.”
“Ever been inside?”
“No.”
“Know anyone who has?”
“Why would the president build a castle right on the most valuable beachfront property in Mallaruza?”
“Because,” Simon said grimly, “the son of a bitch plans to live in it.”
Fifteen
There was a knock at the door. “Uh-oh. That sounds like Simon,” she told Nomis, who sat on the couch flipping through a Swahili language magazine. “I’ll get it.”
Instead of replying, Nomis flickered and distorted, his image undulating like a bad projection. Kess’s lips tightened. Poor Simon. No wonder he’d come back so soon.
She flung open the door. “Are your powers short-circuiti—Konrad!” Dr. Konrad Straus looked like he’d been dragged through hell and back. His shirt and pants were ripped and bloody, his hair dull and disheveled, and he sported a black eye. Lacerations and bruises covered his face and arms and pretty much any bare skin visible.
“Oh, my God.” She rushed to wrap her arm around his waist, helping him into the room before he collapsed. “I’m so glad to see you! How on earth did you find me? Never mind. Come in. Let me hel—”
The door slammed behind him. He grabbed her arm hard enough to cut off the circulation. “Kess, you have to give them the camera. If you don’t they’ll kill Judy. They already—” His eyes welled. “Jesus. They cut off her finger. They’re going to kill her if I don’t return with you in an hour.”
“I—Kon, this is Simon Blackthorne, a friend. Simon, this is Dr. Straus.”
The two men nodded, but didn’t shake hands.
“The kidnap victim?” Nomis asked, his expression, so like Simon’s, not in the least bit friendly.
Kess could see why they didn’t shake hands. Konrad’s were badly swollen, the knuckles bloody and cut. She tightened her arm around his waist, taking a lot of his weight as she steered him toward the sofa. “There’s coffee, or water if you like. I think we should get you to the hospital. It’s only a few blocks away, and we have a car.”
“Jesus, Kess. Shut the fuck up, will you?!” Konrad snapped, pulling away from her. “Just bring the camera and come wi—”
“Watch your mouth, Straus,” Nomis said savagely, standing right next to her and glaring at the doctor. Kess imagined dogs circling, their hackles raised. “Let’s take this outside.” He gave Konrad a meaningful glance.
Kess stepped between them, laying her hand on Nomis’s arm. He felt as solid and real as Simon. Only not. “It’s okay. I understand.” She turned to Konrad. “I’m sorry, but I’m not going anywhere, Konrad. You know that doesn’t make sense. But I will give you the SIM card from my camera. You can use it to bargain w—”
“Stop dicking around, Kess. They want you and the pictures. You’re coming with me.”
“Here.” She raced over to her new knapsack, digging through it. Give them—What the hell are you doing?”
Everything happened almost simultaneously—Nomis shimmered directly in front of Konrad, and the doctor was suddenly pointing a large black gun inches from Nomis’s chest. Before Kess could compute what was happening there was a god-awful bang and Nomis flew across the room to land tangled in the full-length drapes.
She let out a little shriek of horror and started racing across the room.
Konrad grabbed her arm, jerking her back against his body. Kess struggled and strained to get free. “What’s wrong with you?” Why shoot Nomis? Why? It didn’t make a damn bit of sense. She’d never seen Konrad behave this way, and he scared her to death. Kess hadn’t even seen him pull the gun out of wherever it had been hidden.
“Let me go! Damn it, let me go!” His fingers were a vise around her upper arm as she tried to yank it free. “What happened to your damned Hippocratic oath?” she shouted. Did Nomis feel pain? Could—oh, God—could Nomis die? And if Nomis died, did Simon die as well?
“Why did you shoot him? My God, Konrad, what did they do to you?” She was blubbering, tears streaming down her cheeks so she could barely see Nomis’s still form and the bloom of blood forming on his white T-shirt. His eyes were closed and he wasn’t moving. Was he already dead? Kess rounded on Konrad, clawing at his fingers in a bid for freedom. “Let me go,” she shouted, beating at his upper body with her free hand. “Damn you. Let. Me. Go.”
Without warning he morphed into someone else. This wasn’t her friend, Dr. Konrad Straus. This stranger was a foot taller, pale-skinned, his long golden-red hair dead straight and hanging down his chest and back. He had the coldest eyes Kess had ever seen. A white shirt was tucked into black leather pants, he wore high black boots, and he was covered from shoulders to ankles in a black leather coat. He looked like Death.
He opened his hand and she almost fell. Kess stumbled backward, her knees hitting the bed behind her. Mouth dry, heart trip-hammering, she stared up at him feeling like a mongoose watching a snake. “You’re a wizard!”
“Smart girl.” He was right beside her without warning, yanking her to her feet, his hand manacled around her upper arm. The way he moved defined creepy. Ice flooded Kess’s veins as he said flatly, “Let’s go.”
She knew she didn’t stand a snowball’s chance in hell of getting free of him, but every instinct demanded that she fight for her life. She went berserk. Kicking. Scratching. Punching at anything she could connect with. Mostly yards of leather jacket.
After what felt like a hellish eternity, and was probably less then a few seconds, he backhanded her. The blow hit just below her left cheekbone, and her eyes immediately teared. “Simon—”
He shot a frowning glance across the room. “Gone. The only reason I let you think you could fight me was because it amused me. I’m done being amused.”
Kess couldn’t look away from him, she was too terrified to look at Nomis. Too terrified not to. “Let me at least check to see if he’s alive.”
“Who is he?”
“I don’t know what you mean.”
“The wizard, Simon. What’s his purpose here?”
Oh, dear God. What was the right answer? She didn’t know. She didn’t know. Where had Nomis gone? Back to join with Simon? Was Simon dead?
Had he died not hearing that she loved him? Kess’s stomach cramped and her heart and brain refused to believe it. “He—he’s on vacation.”
The wizard backhanded her. “Liar.”
She held her throbbing jaw, her face numb, her heart pounding fiercely as anger rose in a black wave. “Hey! Don’t ask me questions and then call me a liar when I answer, damn you,” she shouted, kicking out as he held her at arm’s length. “Take the damned SIM card and get out. I have nothing you want.”
“Au contraire, my dear, you have something I want quite badly.”
“What?”
“Information.”
“I’m a publicist. The only information I could possibly give you is about the presidential campaign. Is that what you want? Because, buster, that’s all I’ve got.”
“You fucked him.” He held her up by the throat, his fingers hard and like ice on her skin. “You know who Simon Blackthorne is, jy hoer.”
That sounded suspiciously like you whore. But a verbal insult was the least of her problems at the moment. In a dizzying switch of location Kess found herself in an unfamiliar room in exactly the same position. The walls, ceiling, and floor were a dense black, so that the wizard’s skin, shirt, and pale hair floated eerily in the blackness. Oh, God, oh, God. Simon, please… If he was alive, if he knew where she was and who she was with, Kess knew Simon would come. If he didn’t come, it was because he couldn’t. Stop calling him, she told herself as a tide of terror seeped into her brain like slow-acting poison.
“All I know is that he’s a friend of Mr. Bongani. That’s it.” Did he want to know if Simon was a wizard? Or that he was a T-FLAC operative? Kess didn’t know the right answer and she wasn’t going to give this cold-as-ice bastard any information that could harm Simon. If Simon wasn’t dead already.
“What did you do to Konrad?” she asked hoarsely, tasting blood. She tentatively touched her tongue along the cut inside her lower lip. Her eye was already half swollen shut. The strain on her neck was pulling at her entire body. How long could she swing from his hand like this before he snapped her neck?
