by Dee Davis
Her father took a step forward and all hell broke loose, gunshots flying. Alexis’s gaze moved to Tucker and Drake, but before she could be sure they were okay, someone tackled her, driving her down to the floor. She slammed against the cement, white lightning flashing through her head, black velvet creeping into the edges of her vision as she struggled to maintain consciousness.
The man on top of her moved, and her father’s face filled her fading vision. For a moment she actually believed he’d been trying to protect her from the still-flying bullets, but then he reached for her fingers, prying them apart as he freed the microchip, a smile of satisfaction on his face.
She tried to follow as he walked away, but nausea swelled, and she dropped back to the floor, a tear rolling down her cheek as the whole world tilted and then went black.
“Alexis,” Tucker called, cradling her head in his lap, his heart twisting with relief when his finger found her pulse. “Come on, sweetheart, wake up.” Across from him, Nash was unloading a weapon while talking with Avery and Tyler. Simon and Harrison were helping his brother with the ropes still binding his feet, while Annie was checking bodies.
Business as usual.
Alexis stirred, her eyes flickering open, her muscles tightening for a fight.
“It’s okay,” Tucker said. “Just relax. It’s all over.”
Comprehension dawned, and she reached up to cup his face in her hand. “You’re all right? Everyone’s all right?”
“We’re all good. Nothing hurt except maybe my vanity. I hadn’t really counted on you having to rescue me. I’d kind of figured it’d be the other way around, you know?”
“It doesn’t matter as long as we both came out the other side.” She moved to sit up, and he helped by supporting her with his arm. “You need to move slowly,” he cautioned. “You hit your head pretty hard.”
She winced but managed to stay upright, still holding on to his arm. “My father?” she asked, her eyes searching the warehouse.
Tucker shook his head. “He’s gone. I’m sorry.” He hesitated, hating to have to tell her but knowing there was no sense in postponing the inevitable. “It was me, Alexis. I killed him. I was just so afraid he’d hurt you.”
“Then we’re even because I was afraid he’d hurt you,” she said, her gaze locking with his. “And if he’d tried, I’d have…”
“Don’t,” he said, shaking his head. “Don’t say it.”
“But it doesn’t matter, Tucker. I meant what I said earlier. That man wasn’t my father.” She leaned against him and he pulled her close, grateful just to feel her heart beating against his. “What happened to the chip?” she asked.
Tucker blew out a breath. “It’s gone. In my effort to get to you and to deal with your father, I didn’t see the guy taking the formula until it was too late. I suspect Avery will have my head, but I don’t care. I’d do it all again. When you hit the ground and I couldn’t get to you, I thought I’d die.”
“But you did get here,” she said, her smile warming him in places he’d thought forever frozen. “You always get here.” She shrugged. “I wasn’t worried.”
He leaned down to kiss her, offering her his soul. “I love you,” he murmured against her lips.
“I know,” she whispered back, pulling away just enough so that she could see his eyes. “And just so you won’t worry, that wasn’t the formula. It was a copy of the latest nuclear proliferation treaty. Harrison thought it was apropos.” She frowned, wincing with the motion. “I guess it did the job.”
“And the real formula?” he asked, his breath mingling with hers.
“I destroyed it.” She pulled him close again, her lips moving against his, her kiss full of promise and endless tomorrows. And, suddenly, everything was right with the world.
EPILOGUE
Come on, Adam, keep your eyes on the ball,” Nash yelled as his son swung at a pitch well below his knees.
“Nash, don’t yell at him,” Annie scolded. “He’s nervous enough as it is.”
“I was just cheering him on,” Nash said, folding his arms over his chest and shooting his wife an indignant look. “That’s what fathers do.”
Drake slid an arm around Madeline, who was blissfully eating a bag of potato chips, her eyes on the field. “I can’t wait.”
“Don’t even think about it,” Tyler said, shaking her finger at her husband, Owen, who was looking longingly at Madeline’s swelling belly.
Alexis laughed, reveling in the camaraderie. Avery sat on her right and Tucker on her left, the two of them still a little overprotective. As if they thought she might break. It was in turns charming and annoying, especially with Tucker, who followed her everywhere these days. But it was also pretty damn wonderful.
She leaned against him, nestling her head on his shoulder as Harrison, who was sitting in front of her, tweeted the entire game to the rest of the team back at headquarters.
It was a gorgeous spring day, the sky so blue it looked more like a painting than reality. The field was green, the boys decked out in opposing colors, their excitement more about the event than the game itself.
“Come on, Adam,” Alexis yelled as he struck at another ball, just managing to tip it.
“Count is one and two,” Drake said, playing the role of announcer.
It had been a month since her father had been killed in the warehouse. Alain DuBois, the only link A-Tac had to the Consortium, was still missing. Which meant that although A-Tac had won this battle, the war was ongoing. But at least the direct threat to her had ended when the Consortium had realized the formula they’d stolen was a fake, and that, thanks to some strategically placed intel, the real deal had been destroyed.
There had been some fallout over her having destroyed the formula, certain key players no doubt wanting the power possessing it would have given them. But, in the end, Avery and the team had stood beside her and the brass had backed off, accepting that, even without acquiring the formula, they’d won the day. And Alexis had no doubt that the world was a safer place without a way to aerosolize biotoxins. Someone else would most likely come along and figure it out again, but for now she would celebrate the victory. And her new life—with Tucker.
They hadn’t talked about where they’d go from here, content for the moment just to be alive and together. But, sooner or later, Alexis knew they had to decide on the kind of life they wanted for themselves, and someday for their family.
“So,” Avery was saying to Tucker as the pitcher threw Adam another ball, “have you given any thought to staying here permanently? Working with A-Tac full time?”
Alexis suppressed a smile. Okay, maybe they’d be discussing it sooner rather than later.
“Avery, you know I can’t make a decision about something like that without talking to Alexis. And you know how she feels about government entities.”
“Most government entities,” she qualified, still smiling. “I think I can safely say that A-Tac is an exception. And if working with you guys is what Tucker wants, then it’s what I want too.”
“Seriously?” Tucker asked as Adam took another ball.
“Full count,” Drake announced.
“Yes,” she said, reaching up to touch his cheek. “I love you. And this”—she waved at the surrounding company, and the field, and the campus beyond—“is where you belong. Which means I do too. Besides, Madeline and I have plans for the new house, and it’d be really hard for me to commute from California.”
“You’re an amazing woman, Alexis Markham,” Tucker said. “And I can’t wait to make you Alexis Flynn.”
“You’re making me legitimate,” she said, looking down at her engagement ring. “I’ll probably have to get a driver’s license, and a social security card, and a voter’s registration card….”
“One step at a time,” Tucker suggested.
“Okay,” she said, reaching up to kiss him as the bleachers erupted, Nash screaming “That’s my boy!” as Adam hit the ball straight and true, right past the ce
nterfielder and over the fence.
Tucker pulled Alexis to her feet, the two of them joining the furor as Adam rounded third base, heading home.
Home.
She smiled.
In finding true love, she’d also found home.
Passions run high as a vicious
killer leads new partners Hannah
Marshall and Harrison
Blake in a…
DEADLY DANCE
Please turn this page for
a preview.
PROLOGUE
Sunderland College, New York
Sara Lauter looked up from the textbook she’d been reading. The English Industrial Revolution just wasn’t holding her attention. Too many other things on her mind. She stretched and looked around the edge of her study carrel. The library was almost empty. Frowning, she checked her watch, surprised to see that it was so late. Almost midnight. The library would be closing in another couple of hours.
With a sigh she closed the book and gathered her things. She had an early class tomorrow and Professor Brennon wasn’t one to tolerate tardiness. Not that Sara had any intention of being late. She’d just have to set an extra alarm. Her roommate was going to love her.
“Hey, babe? You ready to go?” she asked, smiling over at her boyfriend, Anthony Marcuso. He’d been buried in a midterm paper on Keynesian economics. Everyone said the new econ prof was a major hard-ass. And if this paper was evidence, Sara was inclined to believe it. Tony was spending every spare moment on the thing.
“I can’t.” He shook his head, his gaze apologetic. “I’ve still got three sources to verify. And I’m having trouble with the Internet in the dorm. So I’m afraid I’m here for the duration. Paper’s due at three tomorrow.”
“All right.” Sara nodded, reaching out to squeeze his hand. “I won’t waste any more time talking. But I’m beat and I’ve got an early class, so I’m heading out. Meet you for breakfast?”
“Definitely,” he said. “And this weekend, we’ll celebrate.” He smiled up at her and, as usual, her heart melted. They hadn’t been dating all that long, but somehow she knew this was different. Something worth hanging on to. “I’ll call you.”
“You can’t, remember?” She’d lost her cell phone. Left it God knows where, and she hadn’t had the chance to replace it yet. “How about we just meet in front of the cafeteria at eight?”
“Perfect,” he said, his concentration still on his paper as she bent to drop a kiss on his tousled head and then swung her book bag over her shoulder.
“All right, then. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
She waved at a couple of friends as she headed upstairs to the library’s entrance. Built into the side of a hill, most of the building was underground. Which was nice when it came to avoiding distractions. And also the terraced area outside the front doors was a favorite student hangout, with grass-covered hills on both sides making the perfect place to sit and watch passersby.
She and her friends had actually sledded down the taller hill once her freshman year, using lunch trays. The risk of wipe-out had been enormous, but with the right amount of dexterity it was possible to make it all the way from the chemistry building to the front doors of the library. It was a great memory.
Outside the night was crisp, the last remnants of autumn making her think of cider and pumpkins and flag football. Their dorm was currently in second place in the intercampus league. Not that anyone took it that seriously. She pulled her coat closer as she started up the stairs leading to the quad. Passing the Aaron Thomas Academic Center, she noted a light on in an upper-floor window, a professor or grad student working late, no doubt. Most students didn’t have after-hours access.
Other than that, the campus was pretty deserted this time of night. Not that she minded. It was kind of nice to be alone with her thoughts. Although she wouldn’t have minded if Tony had been along. She passed the Student Center, darkened like the rest of the buildings, and smiled as she thought about their first kiss. Right there under the hanging oak, so called because legend had it that some revolutionary figure or other had been executed there. But also because the arching branches were the perfect cover for a stolen kiss.
Despite the fact that most of the buildings were closed, the campus was still bathed in soft light, the fixtures mounted high in the trees. So the squirrels could study at night, was the standing joke, primarily an insult from the state school across town. But Sara had always found it funny.
She frowned as she passed the cafeteria. The central hub of campus, it always looked sort of sad at night. Beyond that she could just make out the gym. And the philosophy and religion building. The smallest on campus, it was also the best place for a seminar—intimate little rooms with gorgeous views looking across the intermural fields into the woods that surrounded the campus.
Behind her the bushes rattled, and despite the fact that she had made this trek almost every night since coming to Sunderland, she sped up the pace, suddenly fighting the feeling that someone was following her. She glanced over her shoulder, then sped up even more, her gaze moving automatically to the nearest blue light.
The security station was at the far end of the cafeteria building, the opposite direction from her dorm, but she knew there was another one at the edge of Regan Hall. And, besides, she was being silly. Nothing ever happened at Sunderland. It was one of the safest campuses in the state. Her mind was just playing tricks on her. As if to support the idea, the wind gusted, leaves swirling. She smiled to herself, turning the corner, the lights of Varsley Hall just ahead. There were three women’s dorms: Varsley, Regan, and Gallant. It was kind of old-fashioned these days to have single-sex housing, but Sara had always liked it.
Besides, there were always ways of getting around the problem if the need arose. Again she smiled, her thoughts turning to Tony, and the endless possibilities their relationship presented. She’d even phoned her mother to tell her that she might have met “the one.” A conversation that hadn’t gone particularly well, her mother being convinced that marriage before thirty would be a mistake.
Anyway, Sara wasn’t interested in marriage—but she was interested in Tony.
The sound of footsteps broke through her reverie, nervous energy pushing her to move even faster. It was probably just another student, but it was always best to be careful. Off to her left, she could see the shadowy outline of Regan and the faint glow of the blue light. Maybe a hundred feet.
She shot a glance behind her but there was no one there, the empty sidewalk only serving to ratchet up her worry. Still, there was no point in panicking. She tightened her hold on the book bag, thinking that as weapons went, it probably wasn’t lethal, but her bio-chem book was at least three inches thick.
She reached into her pocket for her keys, wishing she’d not put off replacing the damn phone, but she hadn’t wanted to tell her father. He sort of went ballistic when she lost things. Which, unfortunately, happened a lot. Anyway, she’d definitely take care of it tomorrow, first thing. The night had grown eerily quiet, but she was only a short distance from the back porch of Varsley now. Two minutes and she’d be safely inside.
She pulled out her keys, relaxing a little, and then something hit her. Hard. The keys went flying and a man’s arm clamped around her shoulders, his gloved hand covering her mouth as she opened it to scream. Twisting and kicking, she tried to pull free, but he was strong, and a sickly sweet odor filled her nostrils, making her feel woozy.
Chloroform.
Panic crested, along with adrenaline, and she rammed her elbow into the side of her attacker, but he was too strong, and the drug was taking effect. She tried to hold her breath, but even that was too much effort. She felt her strength ebbing as her vision started to cloud, and her last thought was that she wished she’d told Tony she loved him.
CHAPTER 1
Northern Lake Champlain, Quebec
The scene seemed overly bright, despite the fact that it was nearly three in the morning. Local police cars were
lined up in the rutted lane that fronted the old building, lights flashing a garish red. Harrison Blake killed the engine and was out of the car almost before it stopped, heart pounding as he made his way past the requisite crime-scene tape, a halfhearted effort to contain access to the site. In truth, there was nothing to contain. The out-of-the-way house was surrounded by the twisted cedars and rocky inclines that marked the Texas Hill Country.
He flashed his FBI badge at a uniform standing guard on the front walk, then stopped on the weather-beaten porch as his partner, Madison, emerged from inside. With an unbidden intake of breath, he waited.
“It’s her,” Madison said, her eyes dark with emotion.
“Is she…”
“Yeah. ME says maybe as long as twelve hours. They’ll know more when they get the body back to the lab.”
His stomach threatened revolt, but he started forward anyway, determined to get to her. It made no sense. He’d arrived too late to be of any help. Hell, even with all his training, all his connections, he hadn’t been able to make the difference. He hadn’t been able to find her in time. But he still needed to see her, if for no other reason than to prove that this was real.
Brianna was dead.
“No,” Madison whispered, her hand on his arm preventing forward motion. “You don’t want to go in there. You don’t want your last memory to be…” She swallowed, a shudder rippling across her frame.
“She’s my sister, Madison. I don’t have a choice.” He shook off her hand and stepped inside the little house. The living room looked almost quaint, but he ignored the homespun comfort and headed down the hall to the room in the back where the forensic techs were hard at work, their bright lights cutting across the shadowed hallway with a garish glow.
The harsh, metallic smell of blood filled the room. And even though the odor wasn’t something new, it still made his skin crawl and his gut clench. There were blood stains on the bed, the spatter on the wall behind the headboard looking like some kind of macabre painting. A piece of rope had fallen to the floor, the hemp also stained with blood. But despite the signs of violence, there was no body.
