by Nina Croft
“What did you say?”
“I played along. Told her I was waiting to hear from you, but I’d consider it. I had the idea that if I rejected her outright, I might not last too long.”
“Probably not.”
“So are you coming back?” Fergus asked.
He had no choice. What he would do when he got there, he had no clue, but he couldn’t allow Lauren free rein. He would tear the Conclave down first. He glanced up at Sadie, but she shrugged. “Hopefully. I’ll know later today.”
When this Kane had decided whether he lived or died, was he a prisoner or a free man.
“Has there been any sign of the people who made the attack on the party?” he asked.
“If there has been, no one is telling me.”
“What about CCTV coverage?”
“Nothing. It was all knocked out.”
He’d been hoping to get something. He thought for a moment. “We were attacked on the way to the airport. Can you see if you can find some coverage of that?”
“Okay.”
“And keep out of trouble. Tell Lauren anything you think she wants to hear. I’ll be there as soon as I can. If you don’t hear from me by this time tomorrow, contact Sadie. She’ll let you know what’s happened.”
Whether he was still alive.
Fergus didn’t look happy, but he gave a nod. “Okay, boss. Can I have a word with her?”
Ethan gestured to her and she came around.
“Look after him,” Fergus said.
“I’ll do my best.”
The screen went blank.
“You’re going back.” Sadie said, but it was more a statement than a question.
“Will I be allowed to?”
“You plan to destroy the Conclave.”
“I think it’s time.”
“And the records? The files on the Tribe?”
“Everything.”
She pursed her lips. “Could you see if there’s anything on Josie? What they did to her. Anything that might help.”
“Of course.”
“Then I think—”
She broke off as the door opened. Jake walked in, followed by another man. The similarities were more than superficial. They looked like brothers. He was guessing this must be Kane. For once, he wished he could read minds. This was the man who would decide his future, and he hated that.
Jake nodded.
Ethan rose to his feet, crossed the room to stand in front of the other man. “Kane?”
“Yes.”
How long would this take? How long for him to find out what he needed to know?
“It’s already done.”
“He’s better than me,” Sadie said. She turned to Kane. “And?”
“He loves you.”
She cast a brief glance in his direction, but she wasn’t giving anything away. “I know.”
Kane exhaled, looked at Jake. He got the impression a conversation was going on between the two men. He tried to hold back his impatience, but a smile flickered across Kane’s face.
“Fuck off,” he snarled.
The man smiled outright. “I accept that you’re likely more use to us alive than dead. You’ll dismantle the Conclave?”
“I’ll tear it down.”
“When do you want to leave?”
“Now.”
Chapter Twenty-Five
Sadie followed him from the room.
He’d organized the plane. He was going. Everything hurt, but she pushed the emotions down.
He loved her.
She’d known it all along. Christ, she’d known it from before the first time they met. All the more reason to back away. Because he might not have said it outright, but there was a good chance that this was a suicide mission. He’d accepted that.
There was nothing she could do to stop him going. To keep him safe. Just like she hadn’t been able to save Josie.
She wanted to tell him she loved him. But she knew it wouldn’t make a difference. Ethan didn’t believe he deserved to be happy. He was that little boy with his eyes wide open when he knew he should have shut them. He’d accepted what he was that day.
For the greater good.
But ultimate power always corrupts, he knew that, too, in the back of his mind.
“I need clothes,” he said. Sadie had thrown away the clothes he’d been wearing when he arrived. They were full of bullet holes and covered in blood. “And a weapon would be good.”
“I’ll go sort something out.”
She raided Kane’s room. He had more clothes than Jake, who never seemed to get around to sorting his wardrobe out. She found a dark gray suit, a white shirt, and socks. Next, she went downstairs to their mini armory and sorted him out a pistol and ammunition. Finally, she grabbed the first aid kit from the kitchen.
She headed up to the room where he’d been sleeping, and heard water running in the bathroom. She shoved the stuff on a chair and plonked herself on the bed. She was doing her best not to think, to get through this next hour or so. Then he would be gone and the worst would be past.
She’d get over him.
What choice did she have?
He came out of the bathroom, a white towel wrapped around his hips, rubbing his hair with another. He’d shaved, and she had the urge to rub her cheek against his skin. He was watching her out of wary eyes. Slowly, she rose to her feet. As she glided toward him, she pulled off her T-shirt. Her hand went to her waist and she wriggled out of her shorts and panties.
For a few seconds, a battle waged in his face. Then the tension oozed out of him, and he closed the space between them. She hooked a finger in the towel and tugged it free. He was already hard, vertical against his lean belly, and she wrapped her fingers around him, squeezed.
One more time.
She needed to feel him inside her. Part of her.
For a while, before he left her forever, she wanted to stop thinking.
She slid her hand down the length of him, cupped his balls. For a second, his lashes flickered closed, hiding his expression. Then his eyes opened, burning molten gold. His hands slid around her, pulling her against him. She released her hold and rested her hands on his shoulders.
A wince flashed across his face, and she shifted her hand from his injured shoulder to wrap it around the back of his neck, her fingers burrowing in the silky hair.
He picked her up, and her legs wrapped around his waist, rubbing her sex against the length of his shaft.
Backing her up until she hit the wall behind her, he held her in place with the weight of his body against hers. His hand slipped between them, down over her belly, ruffling the curls between her thighs. Then he found her, his fingers pushing between the folds, grazing over her swollen clit. Tingles ran over her skin, as her insides melted.
“Please,” she murmured.
Then he was there. Deep inside her, filling her, stretching her. He pulled out, then shoved back in, slamming her against the wall behind her. She didn’t care. She needed this. She stopped thinking, giving herself up to the pull and thrust, letting him fill her mind as well as her body. This was more than pleasure. This was belonging. He owned her, but no more than she owned him. So fierce now, his teeth clenched, his eyes wild, the pleasure bordered on pain, and it was so all-encompassing that her mind was going dark at the edges. Sweat slicked their bodies. She stretched up, took his lips with hers, kissed him, shoving her tongue into his mouth, biting at his lips. Each stroke took her higher, threatened to crash her to the ground, but still she rose.
Then he slowed his movement. Drawing back from her kiss, he stared down into her eyes as he ground into her slowly, fiercely, the pleasure building, swelling, until she burst into a thousand pieces and she was falling. She buried her head in his throat, and he held her, still moving, and the pleasure rolled over her in waves.
He came, spilling himself inside her, on and on.
Finally, his movements stilled. She raised her head, and he kissed her briefly on the lips, then st
ared into her face for a long time, searching for something.
Again, the words hovered on her tongue, but she swallowed them down. He didn’t want her love. Just as she didn’t want his. Because he was an idiot who believed he didn’t deserve love, and she was a coward who wouldn’t risk losing it.
He reached behind him, loosened her legs from their death grip around his waist, and lowered her to the ground. For a second, she clung. Then he stepped back and away.
“I need to go.”
“I know.” She shook her head. There was nothing left to say. Then at the last moment, she couldn’t do it. Couldn’t just let him walk away. “I could come with you.” The words came out without any conscious thought.
He looked at her, his expression blank. “No. I do this alone.”
He wouldn’t take her to her death. Didn’t want her with him, and she turned away in defeat. She looked around, found her clothes on the floor, and dragged them on. She didn’t look at him again as she headed out the door.
“Good-bye.”
After letting herself out of the back of the house, she headed down the track. She couldn’t face being there when he drove away. Didn’t want to see him go. She walked for about an hour. The rain had stopped, but everything was soaking. The humidity was so high, she could feel the air like a heavy weight in her lungs. Somewhere along the way, she picked up Kpo, and the leopard padded at her side, sending her worried glances.
Finally, as the sun set with the peculiar speed of Africa and darkness fell, she headed back to the house. Something drew her up the stairs. She tapped lightly on the door and then pushed it open. Her sister was sitting up in bed, reading, a lamp lighting up the room. She glanced up as Sadie entered, then bit down on her lower lip.
“We should talk,” Sadie said. She’d been avoiding this, but it had been two days now, and Josie had hardly said a word. Maybe she had been traumatized, brainwashed, left with no memories of her former life. But she presumably still had a brain. Time to see if it worked.
“Do we have to?” Josie answered. She sounded so like the Josie of old, whining when Sadie tried to get her to do something she didn’t want to do, or thought it would get them into trouble. She’d always been the good girl to Sadie’s bad.
“Yes. Give me a second.” She went into the bathroom, stripped off her wet clothes, and wrapped herself in the robe hanging from the door. When she went back, Josie had put down her book, but was still nibbling on her lower lip. “Budge up,” Sadie said.
Her sister gave her a worried look but slid across the bed. Sadie sat down and slipped under the thin sheet. She sat for a moment staring into space, deciding how to do this. Josie’s hands were primly on her lap, and Sadie pried one free, wrapped her fingers around it, and brought it to her own lap. She twisted slightly so they could see each other’s faces. She took a deep breath. “Your name is Josie, and you’re my sister.”
“No, I’m—”
“Believe me. You’re Josie. You’re my sister, and I want you back.”
Josie opened her mouth. Closed it again. Rubbed the spot between her eyes with her free hand. Sadie forced herself to be patient. At least Josie wasn’t screaming or crying anymore.
“Tell me.”
And so she did.
Josie listened to her.
“You’re telepathic? I was telepathic? Can you read my mind?”
“Not anymore. They did something to you. Some experiment. It made you forget the past and somehow closed off your mind.”
“Who did?”
Now for the difficult bit. “Your…husband—”
“Travis? You’re saying Travis did this to me? I don’t believe it.”
“Just hear me out. Travis was part of a group—the Conclave.”
“I’ve never heard of it. I think you’re mixing him up with—”
“Just goddamn listen to me.”
Josie’s eyes widened. Then she gave a quick nod.
“The Conclave is this super-secret group. It’s really powerful, with people everywhere—the military, politicians, big businesses.”
“What for?”
Good question. “Power, I suppose. They’re really in control of just about everything. Anyway, at some point, they heard about our little group and presumably decided we’d be useful. They were carrying out experiments without us knowing. There were a number of deaths, which we were told were from natural causes. And we trusted the people in charge—they were supposed to be the good guys. When they told me you were dead, I never—”
“You thought I was dead?”
“Of course. I would have done anything to find you, if I’d thought there was a chance to get you back. But it never even occurred to me.”
“Why? What were they trying to do?”
“I’m not sure. Trying to find ways to control us, looking for ways to stop us from getting into their minds and reading their sordid little secrets.”
“You’re bitter.”
“Hell, yeah.” She grinned. “But not half as bad as I was. I went a little crazy when you ‘died.’”
Josie shifted on the bed. Her free hand came up, and she touched Sadie’s cheek with her fingertip. Then trailed down from her forehead to her nose. It was a gesture she’d done since they were children. “I don’t remember you.”
“I know.”
They were silent for a minute. “So Travis did this to me?”
“From what he said, I gather he didn’t exactly order it, but pretty much gave the scientists carte blanche to do what they wanted. We were twins. Maybe they believed one of us was expendable. The experiment didn’t work. They turned you off but couldn’t turn you back on. Your memory was lost. You were scheduled for termination when Travis”—the bastard— “came along.”
“He’s the first thing I remember. I woke up, and he was by my bed, holding my hand. I wasn’t in a cell. I was in ‘my’ bedroom in our house. He told me I’d been in an accident. That we were engaged to be married. That he loved me. That I loved him.”
“Bastard.”
“He was kind.”
Yeah, getting his own little doll to play with.
“I never doubted him,” Josie continued. “Sometimes, I’d feel that there was something missing, but my therapist said that was totally normal with someone who had undergone a head trauma like mine. That I shouldn’t think about it too much. Just accept the way things are and be happy.”
“And were you?”
“Mostly. I had a lovely home, a horse to ride, a pet dog. Oh God, I’d forgotten about Rosie. She’ll be missing me.”
“We’ll get her for you. I bet she’s a poodle, right?”
Josie nodded.
They were all the things Josie had wanted when they were growing up and shifted from foster home to foster home.
“And Travis was patient with me when I asked questions. He was handsome and kind and…” A tear slipped down her cheek.
Sadie knew as well as anyone that people could wear masks, depending on who they were with. Maybe Travis had loved her sister. It didn’t matter now. If he wasn’t already dead, the Tribe would have taken care of that. Travis was directly responsible for Sam and the others.
“You have to move on, Josie. Travis is dead.”
“Did you kill him?”
“No. But I would have done.”
“Oh.” She bit her lip. “Tell me. Explain to me why.”
“You were only one of the experiments sanctioned. The others died. Including Sam. I know you don’t remember Sam, but you loved him. He was only seventeen, and they cut his brain from his head and hooked it up to a computer.”
The little color in her sister’s cheeks faded, leaving her white and trembling. “Travis?”
She nodded. “On his orders.”
Her sister was silent for a minute. Sadie gave her time. She was getting through to her at last. Maybe Josie would never remember her life before. But perhaps she could have another life. Relearn the ties which had once held her to the
group.
“I don’t remember, but I sense a…truth? Was my whole existence a lie?”
“Yes.”
“Tell it like it is, why don’t you?”
She smiled. “I always did. You’d moan at me, tell me to pretend we weren’t going to get into trouble, or have to move again…”
“You loved me.”
“I still do. We all do, Josie. I know you can’t remember, and I don’t want to push you, but I hope one day you’ll learn to love us again.”
She nodded. “I’ll try.”
A wave of exhaustion washed over her. “Can I stay? We used to share a bed when we were scared or worried.”
“Are you scared?”
“Yeah.”
“You can stay.”
She slipped down the bed, resting her head on the pillow. He sister lay down tentatively, as though not sure she’d made the right decision. Sadie closed her eyes, exhaustion took her, and she was asleep within seconds.
Chapter Twenty-Six
“You can come out now,” Ethan said.
Kaitlin crawled out of the back of the truck where she’d been hidden under a tarpaulin. She brushed herself down. “You did say I could come to London with you.”
Ethan rubbed his eyes; he’d been blindfolded on the drive here, so he wouldn’t know the exact position of their hiding place. Now he looked around. The truck was parked on the runway beside the big private jet that would fly him back to London. The pilot stood at the top of the steps, ready to welcome him on board.
First, he had to decide what to do about his stowaway.
He looked at her for a long moment. He wanted to get on his way. He’d let her come along and decide on the flight what to do with her. He could always send the plane back with her on it. And he had promised her a trip to London.
“Yay.” She high-fived him before he had even spoken a word. Bloody telepaths. “I’ll be no trouble, honest.”
He wondered how many other people she had said that to in her short life.
“You wouldn’t believe how many of them actually believed me.” She grinned, looking for a moment like a child on an adventure. Her grin turned to a scowl. “I’m not a child.”
