Detective Montgomery shot his younger partner a look meant to shut him up. It didn’t work.
“Last time we had half the department swarming around. If we’d started tearing out walls looking for a hidden safe, there would have been questions we—and you—don’t want to answer. And if we’d actually found the files, we’d have had the devil’s own time keeping them from being collected as evidence.”
Montgomery stepped in. “He’s right about that, sir. From what you’ve told us, the last thing you want is the judge’s files coming to light. And if we go down, you’ll be right there with us.”
So they had teeth and weren’t afraid to show them when cornered. As long as they served their purpose, he’d ignore the little display of bravado—for now. He wasn’t one to leave loose ends un-clipped when his mission was accomplished, and their deaths had always been a part of the plan.
A whisper here, a rumor there, and their precious reputations would be ruined. Despite their greed, their images as good cops were important to them. He’d burst that little balloon for them, right before he took them down. It would be a shame to let them keep all that lovely money he’d promised to pay them, but it might come in handy when Internal Affairs started their investigation.
Brenna Nichols was also on the short list of collateral damage. It was really too bad. By all reports, she was both lovely and brilliant. While beauty was common enough, genius wasn’t. Oh, well.
“Gentlemen, I expect better results for my money.” He ticked off their instructions on his fingers. “First, get back into the judge’s house. Burn the damn thing down if you have to, but no one—and I mean no one—gets their hands on his files.”
Both men nodded.
“Secondly, find out where Blake Trahern has stashed Ms. Nichols.”
“Do you want us to take him out?”
The insolent young pup actually sounded excited by the prospect. Of course, in his world, when a man died, he stayed that way. Trahern and the others like him would be quite a shock to these cops, who probably thought that they’d seen it all. It might be amusing to let them shoot a Paladin, just to teach them a lesson. He’d love to see how these two would react when Trahern showed up, pissed off and very much alive again.
But now wasn’t the time for games, no matter how amusing. “No, just locate them. It shouldn’t be hard for two of St. Louis’s finest.”
Swan nodded happily, oblivious to the hint of sarcasm in his voice. His partner didn’t miss the small jab, nor did he appreciate it.
He stood, signaling to his unworthy companions that the interview was over. He had his own agenda for the rest of the day. “Gentlemen, you have my cell number. Don’t call it unless you have good news. You’ll find I have little patience with failure.”
“Yes, sir.” Detective Montgomery heaved his considerable bulk up out of his chair. While his words were respectful, his attitude definitely was not. He might have more control over his mouth than his younger partner, but he was just as much an insolent fool.
They left the nondescript hotel room, closing the door with a little more force than was absolutely necessary. As soon as he knew they were really gone, he began packing. He’d already made reservations at another hotel for the night. The two cops were hardly his biggest fans and Trahern must hate him, even if he didn’t know his identity yet. It never paid to be where your enemy expected you to be.
Once he was settled in his new room, he would study the pieces in this chess game and decide on his next move.
“How did you know about this place?” Brenna eyed their surroundings with suspicion.
Blake had rather fond memories of this isolated roadside park. Not much had changed, except the old picnic table had been replaced with a plastic one that wouldn’t leave splinters in your naked ass—not that he’d been paying attention to the rough surface at the time.
Kelly’s particular talents had kept him focused on other things the night she’d introduced him to sex. He’d had a hell of a time getting those damn splinters out of his knees and backside the next day, but the pain had been worth it. His mouth tugged up in a grin at the memory.
“I’m not sure I like that smile, Blake.” Brenna eyed him with dubious suspicion. “You’ve been gone for twelve years. You never wrote, never called, and yet you remember one out-of-the-way little park.”
“I lost my virginity right there on that table. That’s the sort of thing a guy never forgets.” Honesty made him add, “Well, not that exact table. It was wooden and painted dark green.”
“Who?” She slapped her hand over her mouth. “Never mind. I don’t want to know.”
“I wasn’t going to tell you anyway.” Even though curiosity was eating her up, judging by the way her eyes kept darting to the table and then back at his anatomy. “Why don’t you change into your clothes so we can get a hotel?”
“Where should I change?” She looked around for some kind of shelter, other than the surrounding trees.
“This is no time for modesty, Brenna. If we walk into a hotel lobby with you in your hospital gown and slippers, they’re going to know something is fishy. We can’t use a public bathroom for the same reason. I promise I won’t look.” Unless he was sure he could get away with it.
To give her some semblance of privacy, he walked over to the picnic table and stretched out on top of it. He thought about closing his eyes, but as tired as he was, he couldn’t risk it. Exhaustion was playing hell with his concentration already. The sooner they found sanctuary for the night, the better off they both would be.
The sound of a car door opening startled him into sitting up, then he realized that Brenna was using it as a screen to change behind. It worked pretty well; in fact, too damn well. He could see her shoulders and a tantalizing hint of her cleavage, then nothing at all until below the door, which revealed her lower calves and bare feet. Who would have thought such glimpses would be so erotic?
Despite his promise, he couldn’t pull his eyes away as she slid the straps of her bra up her arms, then leaned forward to adjust the fit of the cups before fastening the front clasp. It was like a reverse striptease, but with the same effect on his body. When had putting on a T-shirt turned into a seductive dance?
First one foot and then the other disappeared into the lightweight running pants he’d bought her. When she stood to tug them up to her waist, there was a quick flash of white, no doubt the plain cotton panties he’d picked out. He didn’t think she would have appreciated getting skimpy, lacy ones from him, but he’d had a hard time reining in the urge to buy them.
The car door slammed shut. “I thought you weren’t going to watch.”
No use in denying it. “I lied.”
Looking thoroughly disgusted, she stuffed her hospital gown and robe into the shopping bags. Turning her back on him, she used the brush he’d bought to work the tangles out of her dark brown hair. If she thought she was shutting him out by facing away from him, she was sorely mistaken. She looked damned fine from any direction.
As if sensing his continued scrutiny, she glanced back at him. “Don’t stare.”
“Sorry.” Not that he was. The genetic anomaly that made a man a Paladin had also gifted him with a very healthy sexual appetite, and he’d been on a starvation diet for far too long. Still, one look at the fading bruises on her arms had him banking the fires.
“Let’s get out of here.” He stood up and stretched, trying to get the kinks out of his back and neck before climbing into the car.
Brenna winced as she settled into the front seat and fastened her seat belt. He had to admire her stamina. She’d been through hell the past few days, with no end in sight, yet she didn’t complain and kept going. It shouldn’t surprise him. She had a lot of her father in her, including a similar, frighteningly powerful intellect.
“There’s a hotel not far from here.”
She opened one eye and gave him a suspicious look. “Another vivid memory from your past? If so, pick another hotel.”
> Her tart remark startled a laugh out of him. “Back then, the backseat of a car or a picnic table were the fanciest accommodations I could afford.”
She didn’t look convinced.
“I spotted this place on the way here.” He held his hand up in a mock salute. “Scout’s honor.”
“You were never a Boy Scout.”
“True, but I wouldn’t lie to you about this.”
“Which means there are some things you will lie about.” She turned to stare out the window.
Just that quickly, his good mood was gone. Because she was right: he would lie if necessary. And when she found out about her father’s lies, it might just destroy her.
Trahern checked them into the hotel with his usual efficiency. Brenna wasn’t happy about sharing a room with him. She still felt hot, flushed, and embarrassed from his earlier kiss. But short of pitching a fit right there in the lobby, there wasn’t much she could do. Once they were alone, he was going to get an earful—if she could stay awake long enough.
“Come on, honey, let’s go on up to the room. I can bring in our luggage later. Right now I’ve got other plans for us.”
The cad actually winked at the cute little blonde behind the counter. Lord save her from women who giggled. Then he had the nerve to throw his powerful arm around her shoulder and nearly drag her toward the elevator, as if he couldn’t wait to get her alone.
Once the elevator doors closed, she jerked free. Some of the makeup she’d slathered on to disguise her bruises had left a streak on his shirt, which pleased her.
“What was that all about?”
“Hotels find it odd when customers have no luggage. I don’t have anything but the bare essentials with me, and you have nothing. If she thinks we’re in a hurry to get to our room, she won’t wonder why I’ve only got this one small bag.”
Logical, but that didn’t mean she had to like it, or him leering at some sweet young thing in front of her. A flash of what felt suspiciously like jealousy burned through her. Intellectually she knew she had no right or reason to feel that way, but Blake’s reappearance in her life was too new for her to want to share.
When the elevator doors pinged, Blake pulled his gun from his waistband and checked the hallway outside before he’d let her come out. She didn’t like the unspoken reminder that she needed his protection.
A few seconds later, he pushed the door to their room open and tugged her inside. She was so ready to shower and crawl between clean sheets and sleep for hours. Trahern stopped abruptly, blocking her view of the room. She tried to shove him out of the way.
“Brenna, I swear I didn’t know.”
“Know what?” She leaned over to look past him, at the bed.
THE bed. As in a single place to sleep. If he didn’t look so shocked, she might have suspected this was another of those things he felt safe in lying about.
“So ask for another room.”
He sighed. “She said it was the last room available. I suppose we could go someplace else, but…”
“Never mind. I’ll sleep on the floor.” If she didn’t get horizontal soon, she’d probably fall asleep standing up.
“Like hell.”
“Fine, I’ll sleep in the chair then. Right now I don’t care.”
She headed for the bathroom, only to realize that she had nothing to sleep in except that hideous hospital gown. If they’d gotten separate rooms, she would have slept in her underwear, but that wasn’t going to work with him in the room.
No matter how battered she was, he managed to stir up thoughts and feelings she had no business having. Like how it had felt to be held so carefully in his arms, and the spicy male taste of his kiss. Desire, hot and liquid, settled at the apex of her legs. She couldn’t remember the last time, if ever, that she’d had such strong reactions to a man. She wanted him, plain and simple.
Eyeing the queen-size bed, she had a wayward thought. Sharing that mattress with Blake would be a heck of lot more comfortable than that old picnic table.
“Here. Thought you might want something clean to sleep in.” Blake tossed her a white T-shirt as she went into the bathroom.
“Thank you.” She blushed at the thought of wearing his clothing, but the alternative was unthinkable.
As much as she would have enjoyed a long soak in the tub to soothe her aches and pains, there wasn’t time. She wasn’t the only one in need of sleep. At least she’d had a decent night’s rest at the hospital; Blake had spent it in a chair. Skewing the water to the hot side of comfortable, she stepped into the shower and let the spray wash away some of the day’s problems.
The bandages on her arm got soaked in the process, and once she dried off, she carefully pulled them off and checked the stitches underneath. The wounds looked as if they were healing just fine, with no hint of redness.
All in all, she’d gotten off pretty lightly, considering how close she’d been to the explosion. Her poor father…NO! She was not going to think about him. Not yet. If she allowed even one tear to fall, she might not be able to stop.
She toweled her hair dry before pulling on Blake’s T-shirt, happy that it came to midthigh on her. Thank goodness he was as tall as he was. Feeling a bit shy, she hesitated before opening the door. When he’d lived in their home, she’d thought nothing of running around in not much more than what she had on.
But that was then, when he was a teenager and she was in most ways still a little girl. He had always acted older than most of the other boys his age, probably because of the hard times he’d experienced before her father had rescued him. Neither of them had ever told her any details, but she’d done what she’d always done when she had questions—she’d gone to the library to do research. She hadn’t learned much, but it had been enough to give her nightmares for a week.
But he definitely wasn’t a boy anymore, not with those broad shoulders and powerful muscles. He didn’t have the beefy build of a weight lifter, but more the kind of strength that one often saw in well-trained military or firemen. Somehow, she didn’t think either of those were what he did for a living. He’d hated rules and regulations as a youth, and judging by his actions over the past two days, he still did.
And he hadn’t wanted to be with her when the police came to interview her in the hospital. Was he afraid of them for some reason? She poked at that idea for a second or two before rejecting it. The idea of Blake being afraid of anyone was absurd. He had good reason to not care for the law in general and she’d already seen him bend more than one rule, but he’d never walk on the wrong side of the law.
A niggling little voice reminded her that Blake had left twelve years ago; how much could she really know about the man he’d become? Enough to know that he’d keep her safe for the night, and for now, that was enough.
Stepping out of the bathroom, she braced herself for a fight over which one of them got the bed and which would make do with the chair. But Trahern was already sprawled in the chair, sound asleep. If she tried to move him, it would only start another argument that she’d probably end up losing.
The cool sheets felt like heaven to her as she snuggled between them, and she turned to better see Blake. The faint light she’d left on softened his features as he slept, making it easier to see the boy she’d known in the hard-edged man he’d become. Clinging to that small familiarity, she let her eyes drift closed and slept.
Blake frowned. Normally he didn’t mind a raccoon or possum invading his yard, but right now all he wanted to do was sleep. If the creature didn’t quiet down soon, it would find out the hard way what a crack shot Blake was.
The whimper came again, this time loud enough for him to recognize the sounds of pain and fear. Crap, it was probably an abandoned baby looking for its mother. That was all he needed; another night spent trapping a scared animal and getting it to one of the wildlife rescue shelters.
After a bit, the noise stopped. Satisfied that mother and child had been reunited, he tried to turn over to sink back into deep sleep.
Something was wrong, though. Either his bed had shrunk or he was sleeping in a chair. His eyes reluctantly opened, first one and then the other. Son of a bitch, he was in a chair, not his decadently comfortable king-size bed. And the whimpers he’d been hearing weren’t from some lost animal, but Brenna crying in her sleep.
He managed to stand up, every joint in his body screaming in protest, and pulled the chair closer to the head of the bed.
“It’s all right, Brenna. I’m right here.” He rubbed her shoulder and back slowly, hoping the dubious comfort of his touch wouldn’t startle her awake. From the way she was crying, she was trapped in a dream, most likely a replay of the explosion. He hoped like hell that she wasn’t one of those people who dreamed in color. She didn’t need to see her father blown to bits in vivid clarity.
“Hush, Brenna. Don’t cry.”
Please don’t cry. He could face down a dozen Others armed with razor-sharp swords and not blink an eye, but a woman with a tear-streaked face unmanned him completely. He bet Devlin Bane, back in Seattle, would be rolling on the floor watching Blake try to comfort Brenna. Then again, maybe he wouldn’t be. Devlin was just about the biggest, baddest Paladin of all time, and now he was in love—with his Handler, of all people.
The two of them seemed very happy together, making all the other Paladins more than a little jealous. What Devlin and Laurel shared was much more than good sex; in all the years that he’d known him, Blake had never seen Devlin more content.
He suddenly realized that Brenna’s crying had tapered off. He slowly pulled back his hand, hoping the worst was over, but she began thrashing around until he put it back again. He left his hand on her shoulder, figuring it was little enough when she was in such obvious pain. After a few minutes, though, his back was protesting loudly over the awkward position.
He couldn’t stay that way for the rest of the night; it was hours until dawn. So, he did the only thing he could think of: he joined her on the bed. As long as he stayed on top of the covers and she stayed tucked nice and safe under them, her virtue would remain intact.
Dark Defender Page 5
