Vengeance

by JL Wilson

  No, it wouldn't play. "Let's go." I tugged on Lucinda's hand.

  "But we--the meeting--John has--"

  "John has debts I'll pay, but first I want to talk to you." I pulled her toward her office, pausing once to look back at Fairchild, who stared at me with astonished hope. "I'll transfer the money to your account. But I want your promise you'll get treatment."

  I saw no duplicity in his eager nod, only relief. This was a man who'd been searching for a solution and one had just been handed to him. "I'll do it. You have my word."

  "I believe you." I pulled Lucinda into her office and closed the door behind us. "Wait a minute." I pulled out my phone and called my private banker in Switzerland. We had a brief conversation in German then I faced her. "John owes money to some very nasty people. I'll rescue him this time, but he has to get treatment for his addiction. Agreed?"

  "Why?" Lucinda faced me, her quivering chin in the air. Her eyes were also suspiciously damp-looking. Damn, she was going to cry.

  "Because I love you and I'll do anything to make you happy."

  Her reaction was not what I expected. "You can't love me." She sounded angry even as she wiped a tear that was trickling down her cheek.

  "Who said I can't?" I took a seat in a visitor chair and gestured to the desk in front of me. "Sit down and let's talk this out."

  She started to go to her office chair, but I shook my head. "Here." I pointed again to the desk. "I don't want to shout at you."

  I thought she'd ignore me, but she leaned against the desk, much as Cara had just a day earlier. "You can't love me, Nico. It's nice of you to say so, but I know you don't."

  "Nice has nothing to do with it. I'm stating the truth. I feel as though I've known you all my life." I hoped she would hear the truth--at least, the truth that I could tell. "Once I realized how special you were, I couldn't walk away from you."

  "I'm not totally stupid. I told you John did a background check, but I did one too. His was superficial--financial records and things like that. I dug a bit deeper."

  I sat back in my chair. "And what did you find?" I was confident she knew nothing about my convoluted past. I hid it too well.

  "You work for the government. As soon as I knew that, I knew why you were paying attention to me."

  The overly casual way she said it told me how the supposition hurt. "I just explained why I was paying attention to you. I love you."

  "You wanted to get close to Robert. And by getting close to me, you could get close to him."

  I leaned forward, putting my hand over her thin wrist, poking out of her navy jacket. "Yes, that's true. That first day I met you in the coffee shop, all I could think about was getting close to Masterson. But that motivation vanished in a few hours, once I got to know you."

  Hope and disbelief warred in her. I saw it in her eyes and felt it in the psychic connection we shared.

  "But you're..." Lucinda shook her head, her curls bobbing. "You're so rich and sophisticated. You wear nice clothes, you drive nice cars and spend money." Her voice reflected exasperated despair, as though she was arguing with a recalcitrant child who just didn't understand the Rules of Life.

  "None of that matters." I tugged on her arms and she sank onto my lap.

  "You sort your silverware." Her voice choked as her arms went around my neck. "I saw you in my kitchen. You sorted my dishes." She sounded amused and confused. "You're so damn tidy, Nico. It would never work."

  "An unfortunate habit I'll break," I murmured in her ear. "I'll wear old clothes and let my cookware get dinged. I'll give away my Armani jackets. But I draw the line at the cars. I won't give up my cars."

  She shivered in my arms. "But you're so handsome. You need someone like Cara who knows about styles and fashion."

  I knew this was the heart of the matter. "I need you," I said with all the force I could convey. "I love you." I put a finger under her chin and raised her face to mine. "You're all the beauty a man would need in this world." I lowered my face to hers. "Love me, Lucinda."

  Our lips touched. Two-fold passion--hers and mine--began moving in a slow tide through our bodies. Memories of last night's lovemaking heightened the sensation as I relived, through her, how it felt to orgasm in my arms, how it felt to taste me and touch me.

  She pulled back to look at me in wonder. "You really do love me. I thought it was because of Robert. "

  I kissed her. "It's because of you, love. Only because of you." I slipped my hand under her blouse and slid it along her warm, silky back. "Do you think anyone would notice if we locked the door and disappeared for a few hours?"

  Before she could answer, her door was flung open. Cara Delacroix stood on the threshold, her arms akimbo at her waist. Two bright spots of color stood out sharply on her cheeks. Except for that, she was deathly pale, her face drawn. This was the first time I'd seen her without impeccable makeup. I realized Lucinda was right. Cara wasn't well.

  "Look familiar?" I drawled.

  Cara strode into the office and raised one arm. I didn't mind if she hit me, but I was damned if she'd strike Lucinda. I surged to my feet and set Lucinda down in one motion, then grabbed Cara's hand on the down stroke.

  "Now, now. There's nothing to be jealous about. You and I were just ships passing, or rather, missing, in the night."

  "Jealous?" She spat the word at me. "Don't flatter yourself."

  "Then why the theatrics?" I let her arm drop, but made sure Lucinda was safely behind me. I didn't trust the bloodthirsty look in Cara's eyes.

  "What did you do to make Robert leave town?" She shifted her glare from me to her sister. "I know you did something."

  "Leave town?" Lucinda poked her head around my arm. "Where did he go?"

  "He left me a voicemail saying he had to leave town and he'd return when there was a less hostile reaction to his plan." Her gaze shifted to me. "What did you say to him?"

  I put an arm around Lucinda's shoulders and drew her forward, still keeping the bulk of my body between her and her witch of a sister. "Dr. Masterson and I haven't talked recently." My bruised side twitched as if in rebuke at the lie. "Perhaps I'm not the hostile element he's talking about. Perhaps he has enemies you know nothing about."

  Jeff Delacroix looked around the edge of the open door. "Is the meeting cancelled?" I saw John Fairchild behind him, peering over his nephew's shoulder into Lucinda's office.

  "Yes," Cara snapped. "Thanks to your aunt, we've lost the chance of a lifetime to move this company into a position of prominence in medical research."

  Lucinda laughed out loud. "Quit reciting Robert's PR bullshit. He wanted this company for his own purposes. I just wish I knew what those were." She looked past Jeff. "Where's Kat?"

  "She said she'd meet me here. Why was the meeting cancelled?"

  "I don't know. Cara said Robert left town." Lucinda made a disparaging noise.

  "Don't act so high and mighty just because someone slept with you." Cara's voice was low and venomous. "You hired him, remember? I don't know how much you're paying him, but I hope it was worth it."

  John Fairchild pushed his way past Jeff Delacroix to confront his half-sister. "You have no right to make innuendos like that."

  "I'm not innuendoing anything," Cara shot back. "I'm saying it. She paid him and he slept with her. That's a fact."

  "Just because he chose to sleep with her and not you is no reason to get bitchy."

  "He would have slept with me, but you interrupted us." Cara gave me a cursory, dismissive look. "Not that I really cared. He came on to me and I thought it would be amusing."

  "Now just a darn minute." Lucinda pushed at my arm, which was now around her upper body, holding her back. "That's not true and you know it."

  "You paid him to sleep with you?" Jeff Delacroix swung his gaze to Lucinda, who had both hands on my arm and was trying to push me away.

  Lucinda paused in her assault on my arm to glare at her nephew. "You know I hired Nico to give me financial advice."

  Cara assum
ed a casual pose, but I could see her arms tremble. "He's just trying to butter you up so he can stop Robert from getting control of the company." Cara's dark brown eyes bored into me. "Robert told me all about you and your rivalry."

  "Excuse me?" I loosened my grip on Lucinda, who started toward Cara. I grabbed her by the upper arms. "Whoa, boss."

  "He told me how he beat you in a business deal years ago. Since then you've been trying to ruin him." Cara shot Lucinda a cool look. "His involvement with you was something more than..." She paused and added insultingly, "...lust."

  "So are we having a meeting or not?" Jeff asked, jerking us all back to the present moment. "If not, I'll let you folks squabble about who's sleeping with who and go have lunch."

  "Your aunt screwed the deal for us just like she screwed him." Cara tried to inject concern into her voice but all that came through was petulant anger.

  "Cara, when did you become such a bitch?" John Fairchild demanded. "This is amazing behavior, even for you."

  "Get bitchy?" Lucinda peeked around my body, ducked and was in front of me before I could stop her. She stalked up to Cara, her hands balled into fists. "Cara, you must have been adopted. Aaron was the sweetest person I've ever known. I may not be perfect, but at least I'm not a witch like..."

  I tuned out their bickering, focusing on the one fact in this entire conversation that loomed like disaster on the horizon.

  The whole family was gathered, all in one place.

  Parker told Sheila that it was 'a family thing.'

  They were gathered. All except one.

  "Out of the building." I grabbed Lucinda by the arm, jerking her toward the door.

  "What?" Cara shifted, blocking our exit from the office. "What are you talking about? Who do you think you're ordering around? I'm not done talking to her."

  Lucinda looked up at me, startled. "Out? Why?" Then she looked from her nephew, to John Fairchild, to Cara. She took my hand and our link flared to life. Understanding made her gray eyes go dark with fear.

  "Out." I didn't pause for explanations but pushed past Cara into the main hallway, pulling Lucinda behind me. I spotted the fire alarm on the wall. I yanked it down.

  "Nico, what are you doing?" Lucinda yelled over the deafening klaxon.

  "Out of the building!"

  The explosion drowned out my shouts.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  I heard the blast a second before I felt the concussion. I shielded Lucinda with my body, jumping out of the way as I twisted us both to the floor, squirming under the reception desk. I saw Cara crumple and start to go down, framed in the doorway to Lucinda's office. Then John Fairchild scooped her up and ran for the front of the building where the door and large window had blown out. Flames shot out of the conference room just a few yards away but miraculously the rest of the building seemed intact, albeit covered with dust and debris.

  The sharp smell of smoke was starting to waft through the building, borne on the breeze that came from holes in the outside wall. I sniffed warily, praying I wouldn't smell that cloying scent of burning flesh, an unforgettable odor I experienced in several wars. All I smelled was melting plastic, heat and, oddly enough, snow, probably blown in from the outside world.

  I jerked Lucinda to her feet. "Are you all right?" I wasn't sure if she could hear me. My ears were ringing, as much from the siren as from the explosion. I looked her over from head to toe in one cursory, sweeping glance. She had several small cuts on her face and hands, but otherwise appeared unharmed.

  "Jeff." She pointed behind me.

  I followed her gaze and saw a crumpled human, lying on the twisted remains of a door and a wall. "I'll get him. You get out."

  "The employees--" She started back down the hall, toward the conference room.

  "Get out. The fire department will be here soon. They'll need you to help, to give directions. Go." I pushed her toward the gaping hole that was the front of the building, where others were stumbling in ragged formation. I didn't wait to verify that she followed my instructions. I turned to Jeff. He was twisted awkwardly, his arm flung out at an odd angle. It was probably broken, but I couldn't take the time to examine it. This building had housed a lot of computer equipment and toxic fumes would soon start to choke us. We had to get out.

  A man stumbled through the haze toward me. It was Fairchild. He bent to pick up his nephew's feet. I gathered up Jeff's shoulders and between the two of us we manhandled the unconscious man out the ragged opening, into the waiting arms of other employees who were gathered in the parking lot outside.

  I found Lucinda outside the building, the receptionist weeping against the shoulder of her torn navy jacket. I met Lucinda's eyes. "Kat?" she mouthed.

  I nodded. It had to have been Kathryn Delacroix. She was the only one who wasn't there. Had she collaborated with Meyer? I didn't know and I didn't have time to analyze it.

  Lucinda closed her eyes in pain. I understood her distress, but we had no time for it. When Parker's man knew his bomb didn't succeed, he'd try something else. I had to get Lucinda out of there and to safety. It was Good Friday. I had to make sure history didn't repeat itself.

  What happened? Let me out! What happened? Is she okay? Are you okay?

  I looked across the parking lot. Cerberus's face was pressed anxiously against the steamy rear window of the Cayenne. We're fine, I called. I'll be there in a minute.

  Let me out! I can help! I can find people!

  I was starting toward the SUV when John Fairchild stopped me. "Can you help Jeff?" he asked, tugging at my arm. "And Cara--she's hurt badly." He limped away, gesturing urgently to me to follow.

  I looked at the SUV. Just a minute. Lucinda pried the receptionist off her shoulder and we wove our way through crumpled cars and an obstacle course of chunks of glass and mounds of concrete to a grassy verge at the far end of the parking lot. Several people were huddled there, office workers covering them with coats and jackets. The sleet had stopped, but a cold, damp mist was falling, mingling with dust from the explosion to create a murky haze.

  Cara lay on the ground, her skin gray and sunken. A white-haired man knelt next to her. His face was bloody, but he didn't seem to notice the cut on his forehead. "She's bleeding," he said, pressing hard on Cara's shoulder.

  I pulled off my coat and draped it over Cara's legs then I knelt next to the man, verifying Cara's pulse was weak and erratic. "We'll need blankets," I said as I checked Cara's eyes for a response. She struggled to focus, her dark brown irises made almost black by her huge pupils. Her skin was clammy and even if it hadn't been a chilly day, I'd have recognized her dropping body temperature. She was going into shock.

  "Set up a triage area away from the front of the building. The fire trucks will need room to maneuver and people will get in the way. Anyone who can walk should move as far away from the front of the building as possible and help anyone who's injured." I pulled aside Cara's brown jacket far enough to see the jagged wound in her right shoulder, open and bloody. It looked like part of the bone and some of the muscle was shredded. She needed surgery soon or she'd bleed to death. If she survived, she'd probably be crippled. "We need clean water, towels, blankets and shelter. Tell the police we need a minimum of ten ambulances."

  I finally looked up. Lucinda stared at me wide-eyed, her eyes fastened on the Colt in the holster at my side. John Fairchild had his mobile phone out, as did several other people, all talking frantically, presumably to 911 operators. No one else had seen the gun yet, or if they did, they weren't reacting. "I can stabilize her, but that's the best I can do. She needs a hospital." I snapped my fingers at Lucinda and sharpened my voice. "I need your jacket."

  She yanked it off and pressed it into my hands. "What can I do?"

  "Find anyone who's had first aid training and get them started on helping the wounded. Put the critically wounded--" I looked around, getting my bearings. "Bring them over here." One spot was as good as another and at least we were out of the way of any traffic entering the p
arking lot. "Someone needs to take a head count and make sure everybody got out." I tore Lucinda's jacket as I spoke, separating it into component parts with quick jerks.

  She held out her hand. "Give me that and I'll get started."

  I mentally blessed her cool head. I slipped the holster off and handed it to her, gun and all, along with the keys to the Cayenne. "Put it under the driver's side," I said in a low voice, pointing to my untouched SUV at the far end of the lot. "And watch out for the dog."

  "You brought Cerberus?" Lucinda looked at the Cayenne and the anxious dog peering at her from the back seat. "Is that a different car?" She snatched up one of her jacket sleeves I left lying on the ground and draped it over the gun then started walking. People started to gravitate to her, looking for someone to take charge. I turned back to Cara, satisfied that at least I wouldn't have to explain my choice of weapon to the authorities when they arrived.

  I pulled the jagged edges of the wound together and packed it with Lucinda's jacket, using a belt someone handed me as a tourniquet. The wounded man next to me explained he had Med-Evac training as a Marine in Vietnam, so I pressed him into service.

  I'll watch out for Lucinda.

  I looked up. Cerberus was with Lucinda, staying close to her as ambulances came edging into the parking lot. Good. Thanks. I can't get away. I was relieved to know he was on guard duty. I had the feeling we weren't free of problems yet.

  As soon as I was sure Cara was relatively stable, I moved to Jeff Delacroix, who was lying nearby, the receptionist at his side.

  "Broken arm," I said after a brief examination. "He's also got a concussion, which is a blessing since it knocked him out." I glanced at the woman. "How strong is your stomach?"

  She gulped. "I'm okay."

  "Good. Hold him steady." I quickly set the broken arm then wrapped it in a piece of rag someone handed me. The woman paled but stuck with it, turning aside to retch when we finished. I gave her a congratulatory smile and moved on to the next person needing attention.