sedona files - books one to three

by Christine Pope

  “Okay, and what if I’m not fine?” she asked, wrapping her arms around herself, feeling the goosebumps on her bare flesh. “How is admitting it going to make any difference?”

  “I don’t know if it will. But denial sure doesn’t help.”

  “Oh, you’d know all about that, wouldn’t you?”

  He didn’t blink, even though something in the taut lines of his mouth told her she’d scored a point with that one. Not that she’d really been intending to. She didn’t want to hurt Lance. She just really didn’t want him here right now, not when she felt so close to losing it.

  Plowing forward, since she didn’t know what else to do, Kara said, “Look, I know I was an idiot — ”

  “You’re not the idiot around here.” He hesitated, but that piercing ice-gray gaze never left her face. “I am.”

  That came from so out of nowhere that for a few seconds she could only stare up at him. Finally she said, “I don’t follow.”

  One sun-browned hand reached up to push its way through his close-cropped fair hair. “If I’d had the balls to say something to you before this, then this whole Grayson thing would never have happened.”

  He couldn’t possibly be saying what she thought he was saying.

  Or…could he?

  Now, after everything, he’d come over here to announce his feelings for her? Never mind that for years she’d hoped for such a declaration. But how could she possibly accept it now? He couldn’t think that she’d just forget what had passed between her and Grayson, that she’d put those feelings aside as if they’d never been.

  Or maybe he could. Men’s thought processes never seemed to work the same way as hers.

  She gave a shaky laugh. “Wow, Lance, your timing is really spectacular.”

  He didn’t appear to take any offense. He just stood there, back as straight as if he were in a military review. “Would you rather I didn’t say anything, that we just keep lying to one another?”

  “I don’t know, Lance — it’s worked out pretty well so far!”

  His mouth twisted then, and before she could really understand what was happening, he reached out for her and pulled her against him, held her close. No attempt to kiss her — just his arms around her, his heart thudding beneath her cheek. He felt very different from Grayson, leaner, more wiry, but just as strong in his own way. And the warmth of his body seemed to surround her, to finally take some of the chill from her flesh, as if he were lending that strength to her when her own had begun to fail.

  Maybe she should have tried to push him away. Her thoughts didn’t seem able to stay in one place — they skipped this way and that, first telling her that this was nuts, that she couldn’t go running to Lance just because things with Grayson had fallen apart, then whispering insidiously that this felt too good, and hadn’t she wanted this all along, settling for Grayson because she had thought there was no hope of ever being with Lance?

  She didn’t know anymore. The one thing she did know was that she didn’t want to leave the circle of Lance’s arms. She’d dreamed of this for years. Was she really going to push him away now?

  Somehow she did. She moved back a step, then another. “Is it just jealousy?”

  He blinked, but, surprisingly, he didn’t bother to dodge the question. “At first.”

  “At first?”

  “Well, I think that’s what made me finally wake up. I kept thinking everything could go on the way it was because there wasn’t anyone else in your life. But when I found out about Grayson — ” A shrug, followed by a narrowing of his eyes. “I found I really didn’t like the idea of you tooling around on the back of a motorcycle with some random guy…and I liked even less the thought of you shacked up with him.”

  “How the hell did you find out about that?”

  “Your neighbor is the chatty type.”

  Thanks, Felicia. But at the moment Kara was too tired to feel anything except mild annoyance at Mrs. Martinez’s loose lips. At least she’d done her blabbing to Lance and not someone much more dangerous, like the two government agents who’d stopped by earlier that afternoon.

  Or worse, whoever or whatever the aliens had out looking for their one lost soldier…

  Still, she couldn’t think about that now. She didn’t really know what she should be thinking about, because the tumult of the past few days seemed to hit her all at once…the UFO…the MIBs…Grayson…now Lance…and she couldn’t seem to focus on any of it.

  Lance was staring at her intently. When he spoke, his voice was far gentler than she’d ever heard it, lacking its usual irony. “You’ve had a hell of a time, haven’t you?”

  “You could say that.”

  “And I haven’t made it any easier. I get it. But you don’t have to go through all this alone.”

  Meaning what, exactly? That he wanted to be with her now? Surely she should be happy about that, but somehow all she could feel was an enormous leaden weight of weariness.

  “Thank you for that, Lance. But now I think I just need to go to bed. I just…I just can’t process this right now.”

  He didn’t move, but only stood there, staring down into her face. If he reached out to hold her again, she wouldn’t stop him…mostly because she didn’t have the energy at the moment.

  “I don’t think I should leave you alone.”

  “So, what, you’re expecting to stay the night? That’s asking a bit much, isn’t it?”

  The ironic glint returned to his eyes. “I don’t know…that couch looks pretty comfortable.”

  Oh, right. Of course he wouldn’t be stupid enough to ask to crawl into bed with her. Not now, anyway. If she’d been functioning a bit better she probably should have been able to figure that out on her own.

  “You don’t need to sleep on the couch, Lance. I’m fine. The bug-eyed monsters aren’t coming to get me.”

  “Maybe not…but I’d still feel better if I did.”

  Something about his stance, about the set of his jaw, told her he was willing to stand there and argue the point until she capitulated. And since she felt about ready to fall over from exhaustion, it wasn’t worth the effort.

  “Okay,” she replied. “It’s your back. Hope you’ve got a chiropractor on speed dial. Let me get you some blankets at least.”

  He seemed to relax slightly. “Okay.”

  And she made herself go to the linen closet, retrieve a lightweight cotton blanket and a spare sheet, then return to the living room and hand off the bundle to Lance. “Here you go. You know where the bathroom and the kitchen are, so — make yourself at home.”

  He took the blanket and sheet from her and set them down on the couch. For a second or two he watched her carefully, as if trying to gauge exactly what might be going through her head. “You sleep well.”

  So much for worrying about whether he was going to try to kiss her. She didn’t know what she would have done if he’d made the attempt, but it looked as if she wouldn’t have to deal with that particular scenario. At least, not tonight.

  “Goodnight, Lance,” she said.

  That shuttered expression was back on his face. “Goodnight, Kara.”

  And that seemed to be it. She left him standing there in front of the couch, and went to her own empty bed.

  * * *

  Kara might have been able to sleep, but Lance knew it was still a long ways off for him — if it ever came it all. If so, this certainly wouldn’t be his first sleepless night.

  He untied the desert boots he wore and lined them up at one end of the couch. Gort, still lying Sphinx-like on the rug, watched him with a mixture of curiosity and wariness, as if not sure what to make of this intruder who’d taken up residence in the living room.

  I’m not sure what to make of it, either, Lance thought, and lay down on the couch. Even if he wouldn’t be able to sleep for a long while — if at all — he figured he might as well make himself comfortable.

  Should he have kissed her? Maybe that would have been smarter, to just push ahead a
fter he’d held her in his arms. But she’d looked so tired, shadows under the deep gentian blue of her eyes, that he hadn’t the heart to force the issue. She’d had enough shocks already. He hadn’t mistaken her regard for him — no, that had been clear enough in her face. There’d been confusion, too, and guilt, as if she inwardly berated herself for caring for him and Grayson at the same time.

  Grayson. Lance wondered then how the half-alien man fared, tucked away into the Olivers’ spare bedroom. Probably not too great; that bed had to be a lot colder than the one he’d been sleeping in up until today.

  That might not have been the best thing to think about. Lance really didn’t want to imagine Kara tangled up in the hybrid’s muscular arms, and he certainly shouldn’t be thinking about her now, sleeping just a few yards away down the corridor. He wouldn’t go to her, of course not, but his loins tightened a little at the thought of her lying in her bed, golden hair spread over her pillow.

  Go ahead, drive yourself crazy, he mocked himself, and the wave of heat subsided somewhat. He wanted her, yes, but he could give her all the time she needed. He’d made her wait long enough.

  He didn’t want to think about how much time any of them had left.

  * * *

  Kara awoke with a start, eyes straining at the darkness in her room. One hand reached out to touch the space where Grayson should have lain. Then she paused, fingers tangling in the cold sheet. Of course he wasn’t there. He was clear on the other side of town, in the Olivers’ guest room.

  A noise then, just the slightest whisper of movement, coming from somewhere down the corridor. She reached under her bed for the Louisville Slugger she kept there — another relic of her grandfather’s — and eased herself from underneath the covers, the bat clutched grimly in her right hand.

  Blinking the cobwebs of nightmares away, she crept down the corridor, padding along in her bare feet. She didn’t know how someone could have gotten in without tripping the alarm, but —

  Lance’s voice came to her in the dark. “Forgot about me already?”

  Of course. Her sleep had been so disordered, her waking so sudden, that she’d actually forgotten Lance had insisted on staying over. The bat dropped down to hang limply at her side. “Maybe.” She squinted into the dining room, realized he was sitting at the table and staring out into the backyard.

  “Hmm.”

  She advanced a few paces, then stopped. In hot weather she slept in her underwear and a tank top, which was fine if she was alone. Not so great for parading around in front of the man with whom you had a good deal of unresolved sexual tension. On the other hand, to turn now and flee back to her bedroom would only show him exactly how uncomfortable she was. So she moved on into the dining room, silently grateful that at least Lance hadn’t turned on any of the lights.

  “Couldn’t sleep?” she asked.

  “No.” His gaze flicked toward her, lingered for a second, then moved back to the sliding glass door.

  Great. Apparently the darkness wasn’t quite as concealing as she’d hoped it would be. Movement out of the corner of her eye made her startle for a second, until she realized it was only Gort, padding from the living room to a few paces from where she stood. He whined.

  “No three a.m. treats,” she said.

  He whined again, then lay down on the rug, resignation clear enough even in the gloom.

  She returned her attention to Lance. “Did you see something?”

  “No. That is, I thought I heard something, but nothing’s out there.”

  Sitting down seemed safer. At least that way he wouldn’t be staring at her striped bikini underwear. She pulled out the chair nearest her and settled herself into it, her eyes becoming more and more accustomed to the lack of light. The solar lamps in the backyard made little pools of blue-white light, but there wasn’t much for them to illuminate.

  “Probably a cat,” she offered. “Felicia Martinez lets hers roam all over the neighborhood, even though everyone tells her the coyotes are going to get them eventually.”

  “Maybe.”

  He didn’t look as if he’d attempted to sleep, since he was still fully dressed, although his shirt was untucked. Something pale moved near the floor, and she realized it must be his bare feet. So at least he’d allowed himself to relax that much.

  “You don’t really think they’re watching my house, do you? I mean, if they knew Grayson had been here, you’d think they would have already tried to retrieve him.”

  At her question Lance shifted in his chair so he could more or less meet her gaze. “You’re probably right. But it doesn’t have to be the aliens, come in search of their prodigal son. Could be the MIBs. Just because you got rid of them temporarily doesn’t mean they’re gone for good.”

  “Well, that’s a cheery thought.” She watched him carefully, but his eyes seemed to be more or less intent on her face, and not the amount of cleavage exposed by the skimpy tank top she wore.

  His shoulders lifted. “Or I could just be jumpy. But I keep wondering…why? What’s so important here that they’ve come back, even when we wiped out their forces, basically made them have to go back to square one?”

  She could have made a snide answer about the aliens wanting to get a spa treatment or a psychic reading, but something in his voice stopped her. He actually sounded tired and a little worried, which was not the Lance she knew. While she appreciated his showing something more of himself to her, part of her wished for the snarky, confident man who never seemed to get rattled, no matter what the world might throw at him.

  “I wish I knew. I suppose Paul and Persephone will try to get more information out of Grayson…” She trailed off, realizing she should be there for that interview, and not sure she was really up for it.

  “True, but he may not know that much, even if his memory has returned.” Lance sounded a little more brisk now, as if glad he could talk about Grayson on a more abstract level, as part of the alien puzzle to be solved, and not the man who’d made himself part of Kara’s life. “After all, even though it’s clear something strange has happened to him, he was only a soldier. Soldiers do what they’re told. They don’t have to have the big picture to get the job done.”

  “Speaking from experience?”

  “Yes,” he said shortly, and turned to look back out the window. “The brass always thinks the grunts are too dumb to master the intricacies. Besides, we can’t divulge information we don’t know, can we?”

  Kara supposed that was true enough, but she still didn’t like the sound of it all that much. Maybe she was too much of an individualist to appreciate the nuances of military service.

  “Grayson,” Lance repeated, and gave a short, humorless laugh. “Did you name him that?”

  “No. He heard it on TV and told me he liked the way it sounded.” She wasn’t about to tell Lance that Grayson had picked it up from a frivolous rom-com show she had languishing on her DVR.

  “Ironic.”

  “How do you mean?”

  Once again Lance turned to look at her. “Grayson. Gray’s son. Considering he’s an alien/human hybrid, I’d say the name is pretty apt. Maybe his subconscious was trying to tell him something.”

  Now that he’d pointed it out, Kara wanted to smack herself for not making the connection before. “Wow — that is kind of crazy.”

  “You could say that.” He showed no signs of resuming his inspection of the backyard, but remained swiveled in his seat, eyes fixed on her.

  She didn’t know what he expected her to say. Was he thinking now was the time when she’d reveal why exactly she’d let Grayson into her house and into her bed, would explain what the hell she’d been thinking? Well, if that’s what Lance wanted, he’d be waiting a long time to get it. She didn’t even know if she could explain it to herself, let alone a not entirely unbiased audience like Lance.

  “So what do we do next?” she asked, hoping the question would shift his thoughts away from her relationship with Grayson and on to bigger concerns.
/>
  “We’ll meet up tomorrow. Paul sent me a text a while ago saying he wanted everyone over at his house tomorrow around eleven. You should have gotten one, too.”

  Probably she had, but her phone was buried in her purse, and of course with everything going on she hadn’t bothered to dig it out and look at it. “Council of war?”

  He nodded, his mouth very grim. “I’d like to say I hope not, but considering our past history with these adversaries, I’m guessing that’s exactly what it’s going to be.”

  Great. Well, she’d always bemoaned her lot with this group, thinking she was going to be continually shuffled off to the sidelines, always kept out of the important goings-on. Now she was stuck right in the middle of things, and it wasn’t quite as exciting and thrill-packed as she’d thought it would be.

  “Kiki and Jeff are going to be showing up sometime tomorrow,” she pointed out. “Wouldn’t it be better if we waited until they were back in town?”

  “I’ve already briefed Jeff on the important elements,” Lance replied.

  Irritation flared in her. “Oh, you have? Did you ever stop to think that maybe I’d like to reveal certain things about my private life to my sister in person?”

  Lance looked singularly unperturbed. “I said I told Jeff…and what I told him was in confidence. All Kiki knows is that there’s a situation going down here, and that they’re to be in Sedona ASAP. They’re actually leaving before first light tomorrow, to beat the traffic. They may make it here by noon if all goes well. They’re not going to miss that much — I told Jeff to drive straight to the Olivers’ place.”

  Despite the seriousness of the situation, Kara couldn’t help feeling a little amused at the thought of Jeff having to rouse Kiki at o’dark thirty to get on the road. Her sister had never been a morning person. “Okay, then…guess you’ve got it all worked out.”

  “Not really.”

  She lifted an eyebrow. “You could have fooled me.”

  Lance didn’t reply, but only gazed at her steadily. It didn’t take a rocket scientist to figure out what he was thinking. He wasn’t thinking about Jeff or the Olivers or the “council of war” anymore. He was thinking about the situation between the two of them.