Belador Cosaint

by Dianna Love

  “Sounds like it. Now we have two against one. Let’s do this. When we get inside, I’ll take on the last guy and you protect Phoedra.”

  Amazingly, Reese didn’t argue. “I’m in. Let’s go.”

  Quinn led the way, sneaking up to the rear entrance of the building again. He’d made it inside and down the hallway with Reese right behind him, when he heard a grinding noise that caused his heart to miss a beat.

  The garage door motor had been engaged and the van engine cranked.

  Shoving the door open, Quinn ran into the garage, but fifty-gallon barrels blocked his way.

  He couldn’t blast them out of his way without risking harm to Phoedra. He did an about-face and rushed back the way he’d come.

  Reese had already raced out the door ahead of him.

  The van blasted through the half-open garage door. Metal squealed and twisted.

  Reese launched herself at the van, grabbing a door handle and getting dragged.

  Using his kinetic power, Quinn lifted the rear wheels to take away the van’s traction. He tried to lift the entire van into the air, but the front end was blurring out of shape as if something had a grip on it.

  What else could he do without endangering Phoedra or Reese?

  In a blink, the van vanished from the front to the back as if someone had passed a majik hoop over it. That had to be the bolthole opening up and swallowing it.

  Quinn lunged and grabbed the back doors of the van, yanking with his kinetics engaged to rip them off. Energy wrapped the van, burning his hands, but he wouldn’t let go.

  Phoedra was shouting, “Help!”

  In a massive flash of power, the van lurched forward, out of Quinn’s hands, and disappeared.

  “Fuuuuck!”

  Wait a minute. What happened to Reese?

  Yelling came at Quinn from a distance and, out of nowhere, Reese barreled toward him in midair.

  He caught her against his chest, falling back as momentum sent them skidding through the dirt.

  She slapped the ground next to him. “Damn! Damn! Damn!”

  Catching his breath, he pushed them to a sitting position that ended with her on his lap. Her face, arms and hands were scratched and bleeding in some places, but she paid no attention to her injuries.

  “I’m sorry, Quinn. I almost had the door open, but I couldn’t let go to touch my medallion. I could see Phoedra. She looked okay. He was shouting at her to stop messing with his head, so I think she’s got some type of defense.”

  “I know. I heard one of the men we took down say he was afraid of her. That she hurt his head every time he got close. The only positive is that Turbo, the name of the guy who still has her, warned his associate not to touch her or he’d suffer worse. I think she’s at least safe until she ends up wherever he’s taking her. Based on what little I heard, he hadn’t intended to leave for another day or two. We still have time to find her.”

  “But she was right here,” Reese said in a pitiful voice. “We should have had her.”

  He put his head against hers. “I know and I appreciate what you did, but I don’t want you harmed either.”

  “I’m in this until she’s safe.” She lifted her head and put her hands on his cheeks. “I’m tough and I’ll heal. We can’t hold back no matter what if ... I mean when we get another shot.”

  “First we have to find where he went.”

  Reese’s disappointment washed away. “That’s right. Give me a minute.” She jumped up and looked around, then she took five steps. “This should be about where the van disappeared.”

  Quinn followed her and took up a guard position to watch for demons. He knew from experience that she was vulnerable when she attempted remote viewing.

  Reese clutched her medallion in one hand and closed her eyes, sitting perfectly still with her legs crossed. She leaned forward, squeezing her eyes tight. “Don’t do that.”

  “What?”

  She paid him no mind and kept muttering. “Stop it. Just one more ...” Opening her eyes, she looked up at the sky, raised her fist and shouted, “Do not summon my inner bitch, Universe. She doesn’t play nice.”

  Quinn’s heart hit his feet. She couldn’t find Phoedra. “It’s okay, Reese. Thank you for trying.”

  “What?” She pushed to her feet and dusted at the layer of dirt covering her. “I know where she went.”

  “You do?” That booted his heart back up close to his throat.

  She held up a hand. “Let me be clear. I know the city he took her to, but I only got a glimpse before he sealed the bolthole behind him so I’m not sure where they are in that city or if he is only driving through.”

  “Doesn’t matter. I’ll arrange to get you home then I’ll leave immediately to go after her as soon as you tell me where she is.”

  “No.”

  Shock robbed him of words at first. “Why not?”

  “First, you needed me to find her just now, which means you might need my remote viewing again. Second, she doesn’t know you.”

  He took that one straight to his heart and it must have shown.

  “Oh, hold it, Quinn,” Reese said in a rush. She put her hand on his arm. “Let me rephrase that. Phoedra doesn’t know you yet and might think you’re another person trying to grab her. She’s known me for two years and trusts me. I need to be there for her, for both of you.”

  He couldn’t argue with that logic. He had yet to even see his daughter’s face. Contrite over his thoughtless decision, he said, “You have a valid point. I didn’t mean to sound unappreciative, as I am anything but.”

  Giving him a wary look, she said, “Does that mean you’re taking me with you?”

  “Yes, of course. You’re working just as hard as I am to get her back and I welcome the aid you offer.” He admitted the truth. “I had not intended to put you at further risk, but I would be a fool not to acknowledge that we are better as a team.” When she gifted him with a smile, he felt forgiven and moved ahead. “Now, where are we going?”

  “New Orleans. I got to Tulsa on a one-way teleport, so how do we get to New Orleans?”

  “Give me a minute.” Quinn called to Trey telepathically. This is Quinn. Is Daegan somewhere you can reach him?

  I could, Quinn, but Daegan is leading a team that’s on the trail of a missing Belador teen and we’re a little shorthanded.

  With the Beladors spread thin, Quinn was not about to bring his dragon king here to help retrieve Phoedra at the cost of putting another person’s child at risk. Don’t bother Daegan. I can handle this.

  When he closed the telepathic link, Quinn explained to Reese, “We’ll have to do this the old-fashioned way.”

  She frowned. “We’ll need a credit card to rent a car. Did you bring any with you?”

  “Yes, but we’re not driving to New Orleans.”

  Taking a look down at herself then glancing at him, she said, “I doubt they’ll let us through airport security looking like this and with no luggage. That just screams suspicious in this day and age. Also, I have no ID with me. I only carried cash when I left my apartment today.”

  Quinn had started punching numbers into his phone and paused long enough to ask Reese, “How did you plan to get home with Phoedra if you had no way to rent a car or fly?”

  “I had a plan.”

  When she said nothing more he said, “But you aren’t sharing that plan?”

  She clammed up tight.

  Using her words from earlier, he said, “You know what, Reese? Sometimes you say a lot with your silence.”

  Chapter 19

  Reese finished washing up in the small lavatory on the airplane Quinn had arranged. She had avoided the mirror, but finally stared at the face looking back at her. “What was I supposed to do? Tell Quinn I had one more teleporting ticket home once I found Phoedra?”

  Her reflection, aka Miss Guilty, offered no help.

  “I’m so not in the mood to argue right now,” Reese muttered, looking away and brushing her hair to help
it air-dry. With no way to pull it back, she had to leave the curls to do as they pleased.

  Even after she’d admitted to Quinn that she had no credit cards or travel ID for leasing a rental car or purchasing an airline ticket, he’d surprised her by not pressing her for more. Like not asking for her secret plan of escape had she found Phoedra on her own.

  Even worse, he’d hired a private jet, which had been ready to lift off with only two passengers in a half hour.

  A. Half. Hour.

  Who did things like that?

  Quinn had taken it all in stride, acting as though he chartered a Learjet from Tulsa to New Orleans at the snap of his fingers every day.

  Did he?

  In the weeks after she’d come home from Atlanta, she’d searched the internet for information on Quinn just to figure out more about him.

  She’d found nothing.

  And yes, if she were telling the truth, she’d been stalking the guy. It was a new experience for her and she wasn’t sure she’d give it up any time soon. Not now that Quinn had popped back into her life.

  Who was this man and what kind of stupid money had he paid to make this airplane happen?

  What would he do when they found Phoedra?

  She caught Miss Guilty’s eye again and snarled, “I know. It’s not what will he do, but what will I do? I don’t have any choice. I have to return Phoedra. Hassling me is not helping.”

  Finished with her cleanup, she dressed in a pair of jeans with a long-sleeved, dark-blue, button-down shirt, which she left untucked and with the sleeves rolled up on her forearms. He’d had the set of clothes waiting at the plane by the time they arrived.

  He’d made one freaking phone call, spoken so quietly she hadn’t even heard the actual words, and clothes had been delivered.

  She’d never heard of Josef Seibel Caspian sneakers, but the shirt had a Burberry tag. She didn’t want to know how much this pair of casual gray shoes had cost.

  She should tell him not to buy anything expensive like this again. These would end up like her cheap running shoes by the end of this trip—dirty and worn hard.

  Being tough on clothes and shoes was just the nature of her life.

  Who had anything delivered that quickly to an airport in a strange city, with a no-hassle phone call?

  The same man who had a Learjet waiting at a moment’s notice.

  A man with unlimited resources.

  Reese didn’t begrudge him wealth. In fact, it meant he could give Phoedra a better-than-average life, but that wouldn’t happen immediately.

  From every appearance, Quinn was accustomed to a world where only the perpetually loaded could reside. On the other hand, he didn’t hesitate to get dirty, and he wasn’t put off by her mouthiness or any of her usual tricks. He made for an interesting puzzle stuffed into one seriously sexy body.

  She jerked herself back to reality. It would be nice to have a button that could send her hormones back to hibernation.

  But the more she was around Quinn, the more she had to face that what she felt ran deeper than hormones. If she lowered her guard and admitted it even to herself, danger waited in that direction. She could not be the woman in his life. Not when she would forever put him at risk as a demon magnet.

  Still, deep inside she was just a woman who wanted that one chance to dream. That one chance to believe she wouldn’t have to spend her life alone.

  Just one chance to know the feeling of being cherished.

  All of that was nothing more than fantasies. She mentally jerked herself back to the mission.

  Stick to finding Phoedra.

  What would it be like when they found the kidnappers?

  Quinn had clearly never met his daughter.

  Did it bother him that Kizira had kept him in the dark all these years about their child? His child?

  At one time, Reese would have cheered Kizira for protecting Phoedra. Now that she knew the kind of man Quinn was, Reese admitted that such a judgment would have done Quinn a horrible disservice.

  Just look at what he was doing now. Not only did he want his child, but he was fighting with everything he had to get her back from kidnappers.

  Everything Reese knew about Quinn said he would never have offered money for an abortion, as her baby daddy had done.

  Of course, abortion wouldn’t have been needed in Kizira’s case, since she could have ended the life of a child with her majik alone, but still.

  She wouldn’t compare the two men.

  Quinn would never consider aborting his baby. She knew that deep in her gut.

  Whatever Kizira’s reason had been for hiding her newborn, Reese did not believe it was because of fear over how Quinn would react. He might not have been planning on a family, but he was a fierce protector who would have cared for any child he created.

  Reese envied Kizira that.

  She would never have a protector like Quinn as her own, but neither should she project one man’s faults onto another man.

  Phoedra’s father was honorable and wanted his daughter.

  What would Phoedra think when she met Quinn?

  Reese hoped the enthusiasm she’d seen the girl exhibit at the psychic’s office meant she’d be thrilled about Quinn.

  Okay, maybe thrilled wouldn’t be a reality at first, given that Phoedra would need some time to understand that Quinn hadn’t been around because he hadn’t known about his daughter.

  If Reese did nothing else in this life, she would be sure to bring Phoedra and Quinn together once she showed Yáahl how important Quinn was for Phoedra.

  That shouldn’t be difficult. The girl deserved a parent who loved her. Phoedra had been so ready to find out anything on her mother, and then the psychic had tried to send Kizira’s spirit away.

  That had clearly upset Kizira and Phoedra, but where had Kizira gone?

  Had Kizira’s spirit actually crossed over?

  Something told Reese that Kizira would not rest until her child was safe. That one moment when Reese had faced the angry ghost of the dead Medb priestess would give her nightmares.

  Reese still hadn’t decided if Kizira had been telling her to watch over Phoedra or to stay away.

  For that matter, where had Kizira been back in Tulsa when they were trying to free Phoedra from the kidnappers? Reese and Quinn could have used a little motherly fury to slap those guys around.

  Every time Reese answered one question, she gained three more.

  Whack-a-mole investigation technique.

  Story of my life.

  She packed her bloody, torn clothes into a plastic garbage bag and stepped out of the lavatory. She was at the back of the plane, but the view between her and the cockpit amazed her. Lush furnishings with comfortable seating, deep carpet and blinds on the windows looked more like a living room than an aircraft cabin.

  Quinn stood halfway between her and the cockpit, studying something on his phone. He paused and turned her way as soon as she shut the door behind her.

  Shoving the phone in the pocket of his hoodie, he covered the distance between them quickly, slowing to touch her face. “You still have scratches. I thought you could heal with the medallion.”

  She winced even though his touch was soft. “These scratches are from being shot out of the bolthole. I don’t know why they aren’t healing quickly, but they just haven’t gone away.”

  He seemed stuck in the moment, unsure what to say or do. What was going on in that amazing mind of his?

  Unable to take the tension that wound her up whenever he was this close to her, she said, “Back off, Jack. You’re nasty and I’m clean.”

  “Yes, you are. You clean up exceptionally well.”

  She fought back a smile. After expending so much energy going halfway into a bolthole that spit her out, she was physically spent, which put her mental state at low-discipline level. With a little encouragement, like that compliment, she’d go over the edge and do something insane like wrap her arms around him, because she could live with a little
grime when it was on him.

  She really wanted to hold him.

  Instead, she cocked her head toward the bathroom end of the plane and gave him a clear signal to go on.

  He didn’t move.

  In fact, he looked like he wanted to kiss her, which had to be a malfunction in her brain or her out-of-control imagination in charge. She was damned glad he would not enter her mind uninvited or she’d embarrass herself with the random I-want-you thoughts circling her brain.

  This was his fault, all of it. There could be no other explanation for why she’d become a hormonal idiot now after managing to keep her icy distance from other men for years.

  She could probably get into the Guinness Book of World Records for women her age with the least amount of booty time.

  If Quinn didn’t move soon, she would lose any chance at that record. Her body was sending loud blasts to her brain with the signal that jumping him on a Learjet sofa would heal all her aches.

  Her mind had run roughshod over her body for years, disregarding her own physical needs, but no more, evidently. Every female part she possessed wanted to feel Quinn against her, skin to skin.

  Clearing his throat, he said, “I’ll be just a moment cleaning up.”

  Breathe. “Right, uh, take your time.”

  He stepped to the side to allow her to pass, but as she did he reached for the plastic bag. “I’ve got this.”

  That was another silly thing that turned her on.

  Quinn could go from fierce warrior, bleeding out everything in his path, to total gentleman in a nanosecond. In fact, he was more of a gentleman in dirty clothes than the rest of the male population all decked out in tuxes.

  Before Reese could find a seat, the male flight attendant, whose name she’d missed in all the bustle of getting onboard and airborne, stepped out from the galley and asked if she’d like something to drink.

  He was as efficient as he was silent, bringing her a bottle of water by the time her butt hit the beautiful cream-colored sofa. She took a sip and watched clouds float past, finally allowing herself a chance to process a few things.

  Such as the fact that evidently neither Phoedra nor Donella was human and that Yáahl had been pulling their strings, too. There were a lot of things that didn’t fit together at the moment.