Forged in Fire

by Trish McCallan

  Russ noticed her sudden tension and glanced down with another chuckle. “Not to worry. Your continued good behavior will keep you out of there.”

  Liar.

  Concentrating on the steel and glass doors, with the sign above, she built the image in her mind and pushed it out. A whisper of sensations flickered in the depth of her mind. This time she caught herself before tensing up, before shutting it out. Suddenly, an image exploded in her head.

  Stairs. Rails flashing past in silver streaks of burnished light. The sensation of speed. The urgent pump of blood. Adrenaline, but caged by calm purpose. A steel door flying open. A huge B painted on a white wall.

  Zane!

  Excitement crested as the images flashed through her mind. There was absolutely no doubt the images and sensations were coming from him. She could feel him inside her mind. The calm, cool focus of him. How his adrenaline spiked and surged, yet remained leashed by the strength of his control. By his coolness.

  Holy Mother of God, she could sense him inside her head. See what he was seeing, feel what he was feeling. They really were connected.

  When they reached the morgue’s entrance, Russ tugged her to the right, around the corner and down another long, white corridor. A new set of double doors glinted in the distance.

  Worry mingled with the excitement as it occurred to her that Zane wasn’t far behind them. In fact, at the rate he was moving, he’d overtake them momentarily. And the instant he turned that corner in front of the morgue, he’d be exposed. Russ would use her body as a shield. Zane would be a sitting duck.

  If Zane came around that corner too fast, he’d be on them before he knew it, before he had a chance to correct himself, or protect himself. She needed to slow him down.

  And get Russ talking again. At least their voices would give Zane a reference point. She strained, but couldn’t hear footsteps behind them. Which wasn’t a surprise, SEALs were trained for stealth. He could be right behind them, and she wouldn’t know it.

  Zane? She formed his name in her mind. At the same time, she glanced up at Russ. Her kidnapper was staring straight ahead, fixed on the double set of steel doors in the distance. He hadn’t picked up Zane’s approach yet.

  “Where are you taking me?”

  Zane! She thought his name again in her mind, enunciating it with crystal clarity and pushed it out.

  That odd stirring flickered through the depths of her mind and she caught a flash of the morgue’s steel and glass doors. If he could see the morgue, he was very close. A burst of panic, swallowed the excitement.

  She concentrated harder. Zane. Slow down. Up ahead. No cover.

  “I’m taking you outside,” Russ said, a certain dryness to his voice.

  She barely heard him; she was so intent on that alien stirring in her mind. Zane. The ripple swelled. Her subconscious brushed up against his, mingled with his cool intellect.

  Coming. It was his voice. Calm as a priest. Clear as glass. In her head.

  Slow down, she told him. We’re just ahead. Gun. No cover.

  Nothing for an agonizingly long moment. Then, a single word.

  Copy.

  The word was clear as a bell, and just like that she could feel him inside her again. His calm focus. His keen intelligence. She could sense his thoughts brushing against her mind.

  The walls ceased flashing past. The impression of speed diminished.

  Where is he taking you?

  She marveled at how clearly she heard the words, as though he’d spoken them directly into her ear.

  Outside.

  A ripple of masculine amusement undulated through her mind. Apparently, he’d already guessed they were headed outside.

  A door, down the hall from the morgue. He’s headed there. Must have a car outside. She concentrated on the double doors at the end of the hall, visualized them. But this time she didn’t need to push the image out. She could sense Zane studying the doors with that cool focus.

  “What the fuck are you smiling about?” Russ clamped his hand around her arm and jerked her to a stop.

  She hadn’t realized she’d been smiling. He twisted her elbow and gave her a hard shake. Agony screamed up her arm and through her shoulder.

  Zane’s calm vanished, swamped by molten ferocity. His rage rolled through her subconscious—a violent red mist.

  I’m okay, she hastened to assure him, startled by his instinctive, protective response to her pain. He just surprised me.

  Liar. The fury didn’t abate, simply hardened into cold, hard purpose. He’s dead.

  “I asked you a goddamn question.” Russ dragged her to a stop.

  Luckily, this time he didn’t twist her arm, she doubted she could hold Zane back if Russ hurt her again.

  See how well you already know me? But there was grimness, rather than humor in his tone.

  Beth held Russ’s suspicious gaze. “I was just thinking about how much I’m going to enjoy watching Zane tear you apart.”

  He studied her face and laughed, loosening his grip on her arm. “Bloodthirsty little thing, aren’t you?”

  “Not really. If I was bloodthirsty, I’d say how much I’m going to enjoy watching Zane blow your head off.”

  With another laugh, Russ started walking again. “I’m afraid I’ll have to rob you of that pleasure.”

  Beth released a pent-up breath. They couldn’t afford to raise Russ’s guard. Zane needed every advantage they had. And their biggest advantage was that Russ didn’t have a clue how close he was, or that they could communicate without talking.

  My biggest advantage is you.

  Beth’s chest melted beneath an explosion of warmth. It wasn’t just the compliment. It was reading the absolute sincerity behind it and knowing he meant every word.

  It should have been terrifying having Zane’s consciousness mingling with her own. Reading his thoughts, his feelings as clearly as her own. But for some odd reason, rather than feeling unbearably exposed, it felt comforting. Natural. As though they’d been blended like this since the beginning of time.

  For the first time in her life, she felt connected to someone.

  * * *

  It felt odd processing information through Beth’s eyes and ears.

  Gun in hand, Zane pressed his back against the wall in front of the morgue. A foot away, the corridor swung to the right. He glanced down at the 9 mm. He had a full cartridge, but the Glock was a bitch when it came to long-range targets. Russ had already dragged Beth far enough down the hallway to make a kill shot problematic, and if he didn’t drop the bastard immediately, the risk to Beth increased astronomically. He needed to get closer. Make sure his first round took the asshole down.

  But therein lay the problem. Russ would hear him coming and use her as a shield.

  He needed another approach. His gaze shifted to the morgue. What were the chances the morgue employees had their own entrance to the facility, one bypassing the interior corridors? It seemed likely.

  If he could find another exit, he could beat Russ to the parking lot, set up an ambush and take the prick out.

  He rolled forward and took a quick peek down the hall. Russ still faced forward, focused on the exit. Zane darted across the mouth of the corridor, eased open the door to the morgue, slipped through and eased it shut behind him.

  A metallic snick sounded as the latch caught.

  Zane froze, slipped deeper into Beth’s mind. But Russ hadn’t tensed, which meant he hadn’t heard the sound of the door catching.

  A narrow white counter stuck out of the wall down the hall to the right. A sliding glass window was behind it, a door flanked it. Zane headed in that direction. That door probably led into the belly of the morgue, from there he could access the employee exit.

  He should have paid closer attention to Branson. He’d known something was off about the bastard. If he’d listened to his instincts, instead of letting his emotions blindside him, he could have avoided this whole damn situation.

  Not your fault. Couldn’t
have known. Beth whispered in his mind.

  Yanking open the door, he bolted through it, trading stealth for speed.

  He raced down another, narrower hall, burst through a second door and found himself in the morgue. The stink of death, body fluids, and the acidic bite of astringents swelled with each step. Stainless steel body tables and rolling carts shimmered beneath the harsh fluorescent lights. White sheets and toe tags brushed his scrubs as he cut through the narrow space between tables.

  The rear right corner of the room didn’t boast equipment or walls. He raced in that direction, thankful that the place appeared empty. It took seconds to reach the back of the morgue, and the hallway that led into the bowels of the building. A line of lockers buzzed past, followed by a section of coat hooks. The rear entrance was steel. Thick. Not a goddamn window in sight.

  He reached for Beth with his mind. How close to the entry?

  She responded instantly. Ten feet?

  Which gave him seconds to set up an ambush.

  Forgoing caution in favor of speed, he thrust open the heavy door and bolted onto the landing. Eight steep steps led down to the parking lot, but there were no cars close enough to provide cover.

  The ambulance bay was to his right. Wide enough to accommodate four rigs, it had a shallow ledge that wasn’t deep enough to hide him. The double doors Russ was dragging Beth toward were set back ten feet, right next to the morgue’s employee entrance.

  Again, no cover.

  To his left, however, was a five-foot drop. He’d have to use the employee landing as his ambush point and hope like hell Russ used the steps immediately in front of them, rather than the ones to the far left of the ambulance bay.

  Zane vaulted the railing to his left, and landed on the balls of his feet, in a crouch just as the steel doors to his right screeched open. Too bad he hadn’t had time to set up a distraction, something to draw Russ’s attention from this corner of the bay.

  He’s not holding me very tight. Do you want me to pull loose? I could try to knock the gun from his hand. Would that be enough of a distraction?

  Sheer horror sent his heart into overdrive. No!

  But I can help. I can distract him for you.

  The horror congealed in his chest and his heart stopped beating. Stand down. Do nothing. Do you copy me? Nothing!

  A disgusted hrummmph rolled through his mind.

  Scowling, Zane crab-walked along the side of the retaining wall. Footsteps started across the ambulance landing, and down the shallow flight of stairs.

  So far, so good. They were headed right for him, but on the other side of the landing.

  He concentrated on the sound of Beth’s footsteps. Russ’s feet were completely silent on the concrete. Which pointed to a military background. Who the hell was this asshole?

  As Beth’s footsteps grew louder, Zane crouched lower and waited for them to pass. Beth’s adrenaline crested, flooded the link between them with nervous energy, but her stride never faltered.

  “Where’s your car?” she asked, and Zane tensed.

  “Don’t you worry about that,” Russ said. “We’ll be there soon enough.”

  Their voices were in front now. Zane carefully rose. Luck remained with him. Russ hadn’t changed positions. He still gripped Beth’s left arm, which meant he was walking on the right, the back of his head in plain view.

  He’d have preferred a chest tap. Head shots were a bitch. Too much chance the bullet would glance off the skull. But he had no choice. The landing shielded Russ from the neck down Barely breathing, Zane raised the Glock, steadied it against the edge of the landing and lined up his shot.

  Head tap or not, this bastard was going down.

  Slowly, delicately his finger tightened on the trigger.

  “Behind you! He’s got a gun!” The scream came from across the parking lot.

  Son of a bitch.

  He squeezed off the round, but Branson was already moving. Ducking, the asshole clamped his arm around Beth’s waist and swung the two of them in Zane’s direction. The bullet whizzed past his head, missing Beth by inches.

  Russ fired back, simultaneously dragging Beth in front of him.

  The round plowed into the landing next to Zane’s cheek, peppering him with concrete fragments. Zane ducked.

  “You’re fucked,” Russ shouted. “You go after me, you kill her. So how about we handle this all civilized? You’ll get her back after you’ve given me what I want.”

  “How about you hand her over now and I let you go to prison instead of the morgue,” Zane yelled back, reaching out to Beth with his mind.

  She was calm, waiting for him to tell her what to do.

  The way Russ had Beth pinned against him didn’t leave much of a target. The chances of dropping him had just plummeted to nil. However, while that arm around Beth’s chest might hold her in place, it wouldn’t stop her from slumping forward, over his arm. She could expose enough of Russ’s head to do some serious damage.

  The timing would have to be perfect, though. Russ was obviously well trained, with killer instincts. He’d compensate as soon as he felt Beth fold. They’d have maybe a second before he adjusted position. Zane would have to take the shot at the exact moment Beth moved. It was the only way they’d catch Russ off guard.

  On my word slump forward, bend over his arm. He sent a visual image along with the order.

  He expected nervous trepidation. Fuck, if their timing was off by even a fraction of a second, that bullet would kill her as well. But calmness brushed his mind. Absolute trust.

  He was the one to hesitate. Christ, if she didn’t move fast enough. If he fired too soon—

  I trust you. Trust me.

  Her faith steadied him.

  In the distance, a siren started screaming.

  He wanted to close his eyes and take a moment to pray, even though he hadn’t prayed in… well… ever… but he didn’t dare. Instead, he took a deep breath. Then eased up, sighting on Beth’s head.

  “I’m warning you,” Russ started dragging her backwards, “you try anything and I will kill her.”

  Now!

  He squeezed off the shot.

  Beth executed the movement perfectly, slumping and folding over Russ’s arm. Zane was expecting the move. His target was not. As Beth’s shoulders and neck dipped, Russ’s head was exposed. The first bullet took him in the forehead. The second plowed into his throat.

  In slow motion, Russ’s arm dropped from Beth’s waist and he fell backwards.

  The sirens screamed closer.

  Zane vaulted the stairway, caught Beth around the waist and swung her behind him, away from Russ’s splayed body.

  “Is he dead?” Beth asked as he bent to snatch the weapon from the bastard’s limp hand.

  He checked for a pulse, surprised to find a weak beat against his fingertips, even more surprised to find Branson’s brown eyes locked on his face, some kind of entreaty in their glazing depths. A wavering hand reached for him. “Find Jil—” The rest of the garbled sentence drowned beneath a gurgle of blood. The brown eyes went fixed and vacant.

  “What did he say?” Beth asked.

  “Hell, I don’t know. I couldn’t make it out.” Straightening, he surveyed the parking lot. The woman who’d screamed the warning was half-hidden by a car, cell phone pressed to her ear. Otherwise, the parking lot was empty.

  If Russ had back up, they would have moved by now.

  Turning, he took hold of Beth shoulders and pushed her back so he could get a good visual.

  I’m fine

  He wasn’t sure if the words were spoken out loud, or whispered through his mind.

  There was blood glistening in her hair, and splattered across her face. Gritty shards of Russ’s skull spattered the side of her neck and ground into his palms. She was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen.

  Please. She snorted with disbelief.

  This time he heard it with his ears, and inside his head. Felt it with his heart. Suddenly, his hands we
re trembling. He tried to drag her into his arms.

  Ducking, she wrenched herself loose. “Zane! For God’s sake, I’ve seen what I look like.”

  She meant through his eyes. “Then you know you’re beautiful.”

  She rolled her eyes and backed out of reach. “I’m filthy. I’m covered in blood.” Her voice started to shake. “And other… things.”

  He stepped forward, ignoring her attempts to evade him, and dragged her into his arms, next to his heart. “They’ll let us use the shower in the emergency room. The blood will come off.”

  He’d make sure of it. He’d wash every inch of her and then pin her against the wall and make sure she didn’t associate their first shower together with death and gore.

  A shimmer of arousal rippled through their link. I’m not going to shower with you in a public place!

  Did she realize she hadn’t voiced the protest, but had sent it through their connection?

  I do now. A certain dryness laced the words.

  She was adapting to the bond more quickly than Zane had expected.

  A sudden wave of trembling shook him. His arms tightened. He wished he could drag her inside his skin, where he could keep her safe… forever.

  “Jesus,” he whispered his voice raw. “I thought I lost you.”

  He wasn’t just talking about her abduction.

  She sighed and wrapped her arms around his waist. “It’s kind of hard to deny this bond, considering it saved my life.”

  Instead of easing, another wave of shakes coursed through him. He felt her mind brush his and knew she read his fear, the terror he’d kept caged—the realization of how easily Russ could have taken her from him.

  Taken her life. Which equaled taking his, since she was his life.

  But he didn’t, I’m still here. She was the one to soothe.

  Twin sighs shook them. Slowly, his trembling eased as he rested against her, their minds mingled, their bodies touching, their breathing in sync.

  The only way they could be any closer would be if they were naked, and he was inside her.

  I’m still not taking that shower with you.

  And then images exploded through the link.

  Steam. Soapy hands sliding down his chest, cupping his balls, stroking his cock. Her lips following the teasing path of her fingers and taking him into her mouth.