Dark Defender

by Alexis Morgan

  But rather than argue with Jarvis, he picked up his drink and took a long swig. Considering how tired he was, he should have been loading up on caffeine rather than alcohol, but his friend had insisted on stopping for a sandwich and a couple of cold ones.

  “Don’t worry, Blake. If she’s anything like her old man, she’ll handle whatever the police throw at her.” Jarvis leaned back in his chair and crossed his feet at the ankles, the picture of a man content with his life and relaxing after a long day.

  Blake knew better. Despite Jarvis’s easygoing appearance, he had a hair-trigger temper that simmered just beneath the surface. Almost all Paladins did; some were just better at hiding their true natures than others. Others, like Blake, didn’t bother to try. Men usually moved out of his way without hesitation, not even aware of how they knew the danger he represented.

  Women often had a different reaction. On some primitive level, they recognized him as the alpha male he was. In the dimmest memories of mankind, he would have led the men in the hunt and had his pick of the women to warm his bed at night. Modern women were smarter than that. They might like to walk on the wild side on Saturday nights, but he wasn’t the kind of man they’d take home to meet the family.

  That was fine with him.

  He didn’t deal well with crowds or clingy women at the best of times. Now, when all of his protective instincts were at full throttle, his nerves felt stretched to the breaking point. It wouldn’t take much to shatter the fragile control he had over his need to strike out at a handy target—like the bastard who’d killed the judge.

  Which brought him right back to the problem of Brenna Nichols. She’d grown into a lovely woman, her beauty unmistakable despite her bruises and unkempt hair. And though she was twenty-six now, those big green eyes of hers held the same innocence that had irritated the hell out of him twelve years ago.

  “Hey, partner, you’re thinking too hard.” Jarvis straightened up. “You’ve got to be running on empty. Let’s go check on your woman one more time and then hole up at my place for some sleep. Tomorrow we’ll start turning over rocks to see what crawls out.”

  “She’s not my woman, Jarvis,” he said with cold anger. The last thing he needed was for rumors to start about his relationship with Brenna. She was the daughter of a former mentor. End of discussion.

  His old friend raised his hands in mock surrender. “Fine. Let’s get a move on before you crash.” He stood up and tossed some bills down on the table.

  Blake would rather stay in a hotel, or even the emergency barracks near the barrier that the Regents provided for visiting Paladins. But right now he needed Jarvis’s goodwill more than he needed privacy. His friend’s guest room would serve until Brenna was released from the hospital.

  It didn’t surprise him when Jarvis left the bar through the back rather than the front. They both paused as they stepped outside to let their eyes adjust to the darkness. There wasn’t even a hint of a breeze in the narrow alley, and the smell of old garbage hung heavily in the night air.

  “I left my car a block over that way.” Jarvis nodded toward the end of the alley. “Why don’t I drop you off at the hospital, and then you can head for my place when you’re ready?”

  “Sounds good to me.”

  After only a few steps his shirt was clinging to his skin. Damn, he’d forgotten how hot St. Louis was in the summer. They walked along in silence, for which Blake was grateful. He was thickheaded from too little sleep and too many questions he had no answers for. But before he allowed himself to rest, he’d make sure that Brenna was settled in for the night and that the guards understood their lives were in jeopardy if they failed to keep her safe.

  When they reached the street at the far end of the alley, Jarvis headed for a bright blue 1969 Chevelle SS.

  “I should have known you’d still be driving that beast.”

  Jarvis grinned and patted the roof of his baby. “While you’re here, we’ll have to take her down some of those roller-coaster highways in the Ozarks and let her rip. They don’t make them like this anymore.”

  “I’m surprised you can make it from one gas station to the next without it complaining.” Though he wasn’t above admiring the feel of a 396-cubic-inch engine as it tore down the road.

  His friend looked insulted. “I just finished the restoration on her about a year ago. I did most of it myself—new paint job, new interior, all of it to factory specs. Except for the stereo, she looks just like she did when she first rolled off the lot.”

  “And for what you’ve spent on this thing, you probably could have bought two new cars. Something more practical in a nice beige.”

  His friend snorted. “Shut up, Trahern. You’ll hurt her feelings.”

  When Jarvis climbed in and turned the key in the ignition, a deep-throated rumble purred through the car. Blake leaned back and fought to keep his eyes open. After a few blocks, Jarvis let loose with a string of curses. Blake immediately sat up and reached for his gun, only to remember he wasn’t carrying one.

  “What’s wrong?”

  Jarvis pointed straight ahead. “See all those flickering lights in the hospital parking lot?”

  A sick feeling settled in Blake’s stomach even as adrenaline pumped through his bloodstream, readying him for battle. A bevy of cop cars and fire trucks, all with lights ablaze, were blocking the road ahead. He was already reaching for the door handle before Jarvis stopped the car.

  “I left all my weapons in Seattle, figuring on restocking here. Have you got anything I can borrow?”

  Jarvis reached under the seat and tossed him a bean-shaped gun pouch. “I’ll park the car and be right behind you.”

  “Fine.”

  Blake ran through the shadows for a block before he slowed to a walk. He couldn’t risk drawing unwanted attention to himself by charging into the hospital like the goddamn cavalry. He wouldn’t do Brenna any good cooling his heels in a jail cell, especially if they pulled his old police records.

  The activity seemed to be centered around the entrance to the emergency room, so he circled to the front of the hospital. A handful of the medical staff stood huddled together, smoking as they ignored the chaos a short distance away.

  He waited until a couple of the employees ground out their cigarettes and broke away from the group before making his approach.

  “Excuse me, but could you tell me what’s going on? I was on my way to visit a friend in the hospital when I saw all the lights.”

  The two men, both orderlies judging by their uniforms, shrugged. “The fire alarm went off. Evidently some trash caught on fire, and a few patients in the far wing had to be evacuated just in case. The all clear came through a few minutes ago, and the patients have already started returning to their rooms. The police are just finishing up their paperwork.”

  “Thanks.”

  If someone wanted to get at Brenna, what better way to do it than throw the whole hospital into chaos? Even with police and firemen crawling all over the place, there would be a window of time before they arrived during which anyone could slip in and out of the hospital without a soul noticing. And in a medical center the size of this one, there would be enough personnel turnover to cover the presence of an unfamiliar face.

  Maybe the fire and commotion had nothing to do with Brenna, but Blake had never liked coincidences. He headed for the staircase and took them two at a time up to Brenna’s floor.

  No guard was on duty at the door to the stairs. Son of a bitch! He ran down the hallway, sliding to a stop when he spotted the cluster of guards standing around Brenna’s bed. He shoved his way through to the front, only to see that her bed was empty and the machines that had been monitoring her vitals were dark and silent.

  He grabbed the nearest guard by the front of his uniform and shoved the barrel of Jarvis’s gun against the man’s throat.

  “Where the hell is she?” Blake’s eyes flicked down to the man’s name badge. “Speak quickly, Baxter, and you’d better have a good answer—be
cause there’s nothing I’d like better right now than to squeeze this trigger.”

  The sound of a door opening and closing and the sound of shuffling footsteps caught Blake’s attention. He froze, unwilling to release his victim, but aware that everyone’s attention had shifted to the person or persons behind him.

  “Blake Trahern! What are you doing?” A hand grabbed his arm and tried to tug him away. “Stop scaring him like that.”

  Brenna’s voice, weak and hoarse, sounded like heaven to him. He slowly lowered the gun, not wanting to startle one of the other guards into a rash act, then stuck it in the back of his waistband.

  When he turned to face Brenna, she was swaying slightly.

  “What are you doing out of bed?” he snarled.

  She managed to straighten her shoulders and stand her ground. “When the fire alarm went off, we had to evacuate. Once the all clear was sounded, we came back.”

  “Back where? Your bed was empty and these piss-poor excuses for guards were all clustered around your empty bed, instead of standing watch.” He put his hands on his hips and glared down at her.

  A faint blush crept up her face. “I needed to use the restroom, not that it’s any of your business. Now if you’ll excuse me, it’s been a long day and I’m tired.”

  When she moved to step around him, she almost fell. Blake swept her up in his arms, muttering about stubborn fools. Despite the urge to just dump her on the bed, he gently settled her back on the mattress and pillows. After yanking the blankets up around her, he gave the guards a look that sent them scurrying for their posts.

  Brenna counted to twenty before opening an eye to see if the room had quit spinning. When her vision cleared, she turned her head to face Blake. “Did you have to be so rude to them?”

  “I’ll be nicer when they convince me that they’re taking their jobs seriously.” He ran his hands through his hair in frustration. “You should not have been allowed out of this room until one of them verified in person that the fire alarm was going off for a legitimate reason. It could’ve been set off just to create confusion for your father’s killer to get in here to finish the job he started. They’re supposed to be professionals and should have known better.”

  “But the nurse and doctor said we had to—”

  “Damn it, Brenna, I don’t give a rat’s ass what they said! Someone killed your father and damned near killed you in the process.” Blake grabbed onto the railing along her bed, his knuckles white with the strain. “Your safety comes first. The next time those bozos out in the hallway screw up, I will pull the trigger and do the whole damned world a favor.”

  His eyes had darkened to the color of a summer storm, sending a chill through her. “You can’t go around threatening to shoot the police, Blake.”

  “They’re not the police,” he sneered. “Which reminds me. What did the detectives have to say for themselves? Do they have any leads?”

  The sudden change in subjects and in his mood confused her. What did he mean, the guards weren’t sent by the police? Who else would post men to guard her door?

  “Two detectives stopped by. It was strange. They seemed more interested in what my father had for breakfast and where we’d planned on having lunch, than who had planted the bomb. I didn’t like their attitudes one bit.”

  She finally gave in to the need to close her eyes and had almost succeeded in drifting off to sleep when Dr. Vega came back into the room.

  “Ms. Nichols, I’m sorry about all the chaos this evening. I’ll have the nurse reattach only the most necessary monitors. Now that you’re awake and lucid, we want to start backing off on some of this stuff. Once she has you taken care of, try to get a good night’s sleep. That will go a long way toward getting you back to normal.”

  As if anything would ever seem normal again.

  Tears stung Brenna’s eyes and trickled down her cheeks as she finally drifted off to sleep.

  Awareness returned to her slowly. The familiar beep and whir of machines kept pace with her heart and lungs, and the scent of disinfectant and other chemicals stung her nose. She was still in the hospital. She’d been hoping that it all had been a nightmare and that she’d wake up to her old life.

  She heard a murmur of low voices and immediately recognized Blake Trahern’s. The second one took her a bit longer. It belonged to Blake’s friend…Jarvis? She had no idea if it was his first name or his last.

  For the moment, she was content to float between the dream world of sleep and harsh reality, listening to see if she could learn something about Blake and what had brought him back to St. Louis.

  “The doctor says she should be able to fly in a couple of days.” That was Trahern. “I’ll see about chartering a private plane to take her to Seattle.”

  “I see two problems with that. First of all, she isn’t going to want to go, not until she finds out what happened to her father. Second, no matter how much you trust your Handler, I don’t know the woman at all, and I’m not about to send the judge’s daughter halfway across country alone to stay with strangers. Now, if you were to go with her…”

  “We’ve already discussed that, Jarvis. I’m not going anywhere anytime soon.”

  “So we’re back to where we started: finding a safe place for Ms. Nichols here in town. After we track down the killers, then she can decide for herself what she wants to do.”

  Brenna opened her eyes. “I’m not going anywhere, gentlemen, with or without one of you as an escort. As soon as the doctor releases me from this place, I’m going straight home. And why would you two be searching for the killers? Isn’t that a job for the police?”

  Two pairs of eyes swung toward her, one neutral, the other glaring at her with their usual intensity. She might not be up to full speed yet, but she wasn’t about to have her future dictated by these two.

  “Well?” She crossed her arms over her chest and prepared to wait them out.

  Jarvis broke first, not a particular surprise. “Good morning, Ms. Nichols.” He offered her a broad smile. “I hope you had a good night’s sleep, unlike some people I could mention.”

  “Shut the hell up, Jarvis.”

  The dark gray T-shirt Blake had worn the night before looked slept in, and the shirt he wore over it had definitely seen better days. The fact that he hadn’t shaved in at least twenty-four hours only added to the intense masculinity he radiated. A woman would have to be dead not to respond to him, and the ache she felt when she looked at him had nothing to do with her injuries.

  She quickly steered the conversation in a safer direction than how his prickly beard would feel against her skin. “How I slept is not important. Now would one of you please answer my questions?”

  The two men went back to glaring at each other, neither of them willing to be the first one to speak. Before she could muster up the energy to insist, a nurse came bustling into the room with a bright smile.

  “Ms. Nichols, glad to see we’re wide awake. How are we feeling this morning?” The woman headed right for the closed curtains and threw them back to let the morning sunshine flood the room.

  “Shut those curtains right now!” Trahern’s bellow dimmed the nurse’s practiced smile.

  “Now that Ms. Nichols is awake there’s no reason to keep the room dark, and…”

  He reached past her to jerk the curtains closed with so much force that he tore the fabric loose from a couple of the rings. The savagery of his action startled Brenna and made the nurse gasp.

  “Trahern, stop acting like a crazy person! She didn’t do anything wrong.” What had set him off? She looked to Jarvis for help, but the expression on his face was every bit as harsh as Trahern’s.

  Blake froze, only a tight muscle in his cheek revealing how angry he was. Slowly, ever so slowly, he stepped back, then he stared a hole through the hapless nurse. “Someone has already tried to kill Ms. Nichols once. I would appreciate your keeping these closed to avoid giving a sniper a clear shot at her while she’s a patient here. She survived the fir
st attack. She might not survive the next.”

  Then he walked out of the room.

  The nurse’s face was ashen. “Ms. Nichols, I’m sorry. I didn’t think.”

  “I’m sure Mr. Trahern is being overprotective. Please think nothing of it.”

  She threw back her covers to climb out of bed. While she might not like his heavy-handed tactics, she didn’t want Blake to leave. Jarvis reached out to steady her as she stood up. When he was sure she wasn’t going to keel over, he brought her a robe.

  “Where will he have gone?” she asked as they took the first shuffling steps toward the door.

  “Not far. No matter what mood he’s in, he won’t leave you alone. His conscience won’t allow it.” Jarvis stuck his head out the door and looked both ways. “He’s at the far end, away from the nurses’ station, staring out the window. Make sure he hears you walk up behind him. He never did like surprises.”

  Jarvis’s remarks raised even more questions. For now, though, she concentrated on keeping her balance as she made her way down the hall. What was she going to say to him? The situation seemed to call for an apology, but she wasn’t sure what she’d said that had upset him. She’d only asked him to stop scaring the nurse. No, wait. Her exact words were for him to quit acting like a crazy person. Surely he knew that was just an expression, that she didn’t really think he was mentally unstable.

  She stopped a short distance away and waited for him to acknowledge her.

  He glanced back over his shoulder at her, his expression shuttered and cold. “What’s the matter? Afraid to get too close to a crazy person?”

  Somehow she doubted a sincere apology would work with this man. Temper, though, was something he understood. “Don’t be so thin-skinned, Trahern. It was just a figure of speech. You’re the least crazy person I know, but you can’t go around scaring innocent nurses like that. If I didn’t know you so well, I might have been scared myself.”

  He turned back to the window. “You don’t know me at all, little girl. You never did.”