Phantom Wolf pf-2
Page 9
“Going to hump it until we can swipe a vehicle. We’re too visible for public transport.” He shrugged into his pack and glanced at her widened blue gaze. “What?”
“Hump it?”
“Hoof it. Military slang.”
“Ah, got it.” She removed the hair clip, finger-combed through the strands and secured her long hair. “You’ve changed.”
In some ways. But not others. The old pull of sexual attraction still hung between them, crackling like a live wire. Shay wiped his face with his shirtsleeve. He didn’t know if the heat was making him sweat or the woman standing a few feet away.
Probably both.
A hint of shyness lingered in her blue gaze, contrasting with her confident demeanor. She intrigued him, this Kelly who was both courageous and intelligent. No longer the bashful girl whose sweet kisses had inflamed his blood. She’d grown into a striking woman, features and manner stamped with purpose.
He’d thought he could forget her. But this new Kelly fascinated him even more, whetting his sexual appetite in ways he’d never anticipated. The primitive male urge to chase and conquer flared to new life.
She wanted nothing to do with him.
He wanted to do everything to her. With his hands, and his mouth.
Sex was out of bounds. Shay tamped down the stray thought. Concentrate on the job, and pretend she’s a guy.
Bending over, Kelly rummaged in her pack. The move pulled her jeans tight over her deliciously rounded bottom. A sharp spike of desire hit like an arrow. He’d loved cupping her ass when they’d been together, holding her close as they kissed. Once he’d hoisted her up against the wall of his father’s elegant study, holding her beautiful bottom steady as he’d driven into her, Kelly’s tiny, excited cries bouncing off the stern portraits of his ancestors.
Shay bit back a hiss. Okay, thinking of her as a guy would not work.
But he was a professional, and this was a mission. He could deal.
Kelly knelt on the ground and spread out the map she’d retrieved. “The village is supposed to be here....” She pointed to a small pen mark closer to the border of Nicaragua and rattled off the latitude and longitude.
Despite circumstances that would rattle the nerves of a strong man, Kelly remained calm and focused. She was single-minded in her determination.
So was he. They had a job to do.
He consulted his GPS. “We’re going to follow the river we passed on the way here. There’s a footpath along the banks. We’ll avoid the main road, head into the woods and go south.”
“Can’t we just hitch a ride?”
“Locals gossip. Strangers create talk, and we need to lie low, keep the villagers from knowing we’re coming.”
“Locals are less trouble than what we might face. The more time we spend in the woods, the more likely our trail will get picked up.”
He went instantly alert. “By who?”
“By what. An ilthus. One followed me to my employee’s house. I killed it, but when there’s one...”
“There are others.” He thought all they faced was a hard trek to the village in rough and unknown terrain. Now there could be creatures on their tail. What a total GF. “Dammit, Kelly, why didn’t you tell me before?”
Kelly flushed at the rough, commanding tone he used when pointing out royal goat flusters to other SEALs. “Excuse me, I guess it slipped my mind when you handcuffed me.”
Whoa, okay. Shay dialed it down. Way down. He softened his voice. “Tell me everything you know about these things. I’ve never seen one.”
“An ilthus is a creature transformed from a normal animal. It’s a mutated creature, created by dark magick. It’s twisted and malformed by power, its mind melded to do the bidding of the one casting the spell.”
“Deal. Give me the 411. Small, or large? Are we talking moose or squirrel?”
“Think squirrel with big teeth and a malformed body. They don’t like using domestic animals, because those have a connection to humans. Smaller animals are easier to manipulate, and less obtrusive. Mostly they’re sent as scouts to sniff out the trail of a target.”
He glanced around the deserted roadway, the high rise of ground and the forest. “So if I see a cute, furry rodent armed with teeth the size of dinner knives and an attitude, I’ll know to feed it peanuts and bullets.”
The ghost of a smile touched her mouth. “They prefer pistachios.”
Shay checked his sidearm and screwed on the silencer. “I should have read my horoscope. ‘Be sure to pack enough ammo. You will run into deranged mutant squirrels and lightning bursts from crazy Arcanes with ego complexes. Oh, and be careful crossing the street. Make sure to look both ways for oncoming evil overlords.’”
A laugh that sounded suspiciously close to a sob tore from her throat. “Bullets won’t help much. Magick does, but you drain your powers trying to fight them, and before you can recharge, whap! The evil Mage overlord throws you under the bus. Or in this case, down the stairs. Thump, thump.”
Insight hit him. “That’s how they got you, isn’t it?”
“I was on the yacht, trying to free Billy. Nearly made it, but I ran into a little problem. Oops,” she whispered.
“When your team raided the island. I wasn’t suntanning. I heal in sunlight and was dumped out there to heal, so they could...”
Bile rose in his throat.
“They could what?”
No answer. Shay clasped her shoulders, forcing her to turn and meet his gaze. “Kel, what did they do to you?”
Shadows haunted her eyes. “They wanted my contacts. I wouldn’t tell them. They found them anyway. And they kept...beating me. They’d dump me into the sunlight to heal and then start over.”
Rage filled him. His hands shook with the urge to kill the Arcanes all over again. Kelly was innocent. And she’d said nothing about the beatings, the torture. He gently cupped her cheek, feeling soft skin beneath his calloused palm.
“Hell, I had no idea. The triskele didn’t protect you?”
“I’d given it to Billy to protect him. I could take what they gave me. Until the last time. Billy gave it back because I guess I looked a little worse for wear.”
Kelly had taken the brunt of the beatings. The gorge rose in his throat, along with protective rage. He wanted to hold her close, whisper promises that no one would ever hurt her again.
“I got through it thinking of you. The times before, when we were together. I remembered how much you cared, and then I remembered how much I missed you,” she whispered.
Red suffused her face.
“I thought you had no more feelings for me,” Shay said quietly.
Kelly struggled to contain the moisture brimming in her eyes. But a tear slipped free and cascaded down her cheek. It dropped onto her shirt, a splash of acid on his heart.
She turned around. Shay gave her shoulders a comforting squeeze. He wanted to enclose her in his arms and promise no one would ever hurt her again.
But he couldn’t. Because eventually, he’d have to turn her over to the Mage authorities. And this time, he’d be the one hurting her.
Chapter 9
The harder Kelly tried to fight her emotions, the more tears slid down her cheeks. Yeah, I have no more feelings for you, she thought humorlessly. Every time you touch me, I want to fall into your arms. But you’re a damn land mine, Sam. And I’ve come too far to get blown up.
Feeling his gentle touch, she stiffened. Tears always got to Sam and brought out his masculine tendencies to comfort and protect. She couldn’t risk emotions around him.
You don’t want him to see you still care, because it hurts too much.
Searching through her gear for something to wipe her streaming eyes, she kept the backpack as a shield between herself and Sam. And then a clean blue bandanna dangled in her face.
Muttering thanks, Kelly wiped her face and then stuffed the soggy cloth into her backpack.
“Always keep a spare. Never know when Renegade is going to have o
ne of his weepy moments. The wolf cries at Hallmark commercials and specials on Animal Planet.”
He winked.
“Let’s go.” Enough of the waterworks.
But he caught her wrist. Kelly felt his physical strength, but his touch was absolutely gentle.
“Listen, I won’t let anyone get to you, okay? I’ll keep you safe.”
Long ago, he’d made the same promise and then vanished. It hurt too much to think how shattered he’d left her. “I’m fine, Sam. Those days are behind us. I don’t need you. Not as my bodyguard. Just get me to the village, help me bring those kids home and...”
With a hard tug, she freed herself and dusted off her hands. “Your duty is done. What we had between us is long gone. And I never want it back. I’m sticking to my own kind after this.”
The tender look vanished. Sam shouldered his pack. He set off at a steady clip, the broad expanse of his back rigid as brick. Hoisting her pack, she followed him as he hugged the road’s edge and headed into the woods. Despite his heavy boots, Sam made little noise in the undergrowth. She became painfully aware of each branch crackling beneath her soles, every snapped twig.
Intense heat stripped her energy. Sweat dampened her shirt and molded her jeans to her body. When they reached the wooden bridge spanning the river, he glanced upward at the sun and turned south.
A narrow dirt path flanked the steep riverbank. Her sneakers were worn and slipped in the mud. Kelly brushed away a tendril of hair, hating the silence between them, but knowing it was best.
With every step Sam took, she felt him slip emotionally away from her. The SEAL was fast, moving quickly. He wasn’t a Mage, she thought grimly. He was a damn Pegasus, the mythical horse with wings.
“Can we take a small break?” she asked, gasping.
Sam turned into a small clearing in the woods. When they were off the path and out of sight, she sat down and unscrewed her bottle of water. Sam uncapped his, drank deeply and then wiped his mouth. His flat gaze studied her without emotion.
“How long have you done this?” The silence between them was too thick, too tense.
“Long enough. You ready?”
Kelly replaced her water. Sam peered into her pack with a frown. “You only packed two bottles of water.”
“I have a small drinking problem. I’m trying to cut back.”
“Always pack enough water. You never know how long you’ll be on an op. I’ll save a bottle for you. I thought you were smarter than that.”
Kelly’s temper rose. “Excuse me, Petty Officer Shaymore. I didn’t take army survival training like you. I got a little sidetracked trying to rescue Mages.”
“Navy. I’m navy. And if you’re going to use titles, it’s chief petty officer. I worked damn hard to study and pass the chief’s exam for enlisted men.”
Kelly trudged after him on the path as he took off again. “Enlisted? Why? You’re college-educated, Sam. You should be an officer.”
“I am an officer.”
“Noncommissioned.”
No reply.
“Maybe being a commissioned officer was too tough? Doesn’t seem so. You enjoy being in charge and giving me commands.”
The taunt worked. He stopped hard and turned. Kelly took a step backward.
“It’s different when you’re a SEAL. I signed up to spend time in the field, not behind a desk. Being enlisted meant more time in action, as an operator, not a paper pusher. It meant discipline, training and learning to control my emotions.”
He took a deep breath and then blew it out, as if struggling with those emotions. “The navy saved my sorry ass. I was mindless with rage and grief over what your father did to my family. If not for the navy, I’d be dead by now.”
Guilt twisted her stomach. Kelly couldn’t skirt the issue lying between them like a land mine. “There are no words to say how sorry I am about what happened to your family. But my father didn’t do it.”
Sam’s mouth became a narrow slash. “This is a bad idea. You. Me. Teaming together to find lost children. Let’s go back. Dakota and I will find them. Wolf’s a damn good tracker. I’ll cut a deal with him. He’ll keep you safe on the base until we return.”
The shock of his words ripped her like a blade. Trying to get rid of her, before they even started. “Your lieutenant doesn’t know their names, and they’ll be moved before he can even draw close. They need me.”
“Let’s get this straight. They don’t need you. You need them. Saving these children will redeem what your father did.”
The words stung, because they rang of a truth she couldn’t admit. “I’m doing this because I’m committed to saving all Mage children.”
“But saving Elemental children looks good, keeps the record clean.”
Her own temper rose. “You make them sound like a commodity, as if I’m using them.”
Kelly’s hands tightened on her backpack straps when she saw his raised eyebrow. “Dammit, Sam, I don’t need to prove anything.”
“Then back off and let us handle it. You have enough trouble on your hands. Stop trying to save the world and save yourself. Don’t be a martyr.”
She drew in a deep breath, counted and released it. “Are you done with the lecture? We’re wasting time.”
He didn’t speak again but set off on the pathway. After one mile, Sam stopped and crouched down. She squinted and saw a faint indentation in the mud.
“Path’s been used recently.” Sam stood and scrutinized her appearance.
“You need to blend. You look too American,” he muttered. He pointed at her bright blue shirt. “Got less obvious clothing in your pack?”
“All my clothing is Arcane sackcloth. What all martyr fashionistas are wearing,” she shot back.
Sam gave her a level look.
“All right. No. Nothing that can pass for local stuff.”
He scanned the area. “I’ll have to improvise. That path must lead to a house. There’ll be something there we can buy. And that hair has to go.”
Sam had tied a black bandanna with a skull and crossbones around his head. With his scuffed boots, cargo pants and shirt, he looked like a rugged college student backpacking across Honduras.
Not her. The designer jeans were torn at the knee, and the shirt was smudged with dirt, grime and sweat. She looked like a refugee from a war zone.
“Some covert operator I’d make.” Kelly sighed.
His expression softened. “I’ll take care of it. I don’t see smoke up ahead, so either the homeowners aren’t there or they don’t have enough food to bother with a cooking fire. I’ll do the talking.”
A pathway wound up the mountain, giving way to a cornfield where stalks grew waist-high. The rough-hewn mud-and-stick house sat beside the field. Tied between two palm trees was a faded blue-and-yellow hammock where a woman rocked a skinny toddler in her arms. Lines bracketed her weary mouth, but her eyes were kind, her expression curious.
Sam spoke rapid Spanish. Kelly hid her surprise. Even his accent was impeccable, as if he’d lived here many years.
The woman introduced herself as Rosa. She set down the sleeping toddler in the hammock and motioned for Kelly to follow her inside.
Small but clean, with a simple dirt floor, the house had two rooms, each with a separate entrance. Newspapers were stuffed into several cracks in the adobe. Inside the bedroom, Rosa poured a pitcher of water into a plastic basin and set it on a wood table. She removed a shirt from clothing that was neatly stacked on a blue barrel and handed it to Kelly while Sam hovered outside.
When Kelly expressed her thanks, the woman smiled sadly and left. Sam stepped into the room. As she washed her face, sighing with relief at the cool water, he hunted through his pack and produced a khaki bandanna. “Use this to cover your hair. If it doesn’t work, I’ll have to cut it.”
Regret etched his face as he lifted a strand of her long hair and rubbed it between his fingers. “It brands you, makes you stand out. So soft, smooth, crimson silk.”
&n
bsp; She took the bandanna. “I’ll make it work.”
“You always do. You’re the queen of improvising.”
His intent scrutiny made her flush, the way he looked at her with admiration flaring into frank sexual awareness. Sam was a lethal warrior, leashed strength with a hard edge. The boy she’d adored had turned into a man.
The moment was too intense, too intimate. She remembered another time she’d improvised, when they’d been hot and eager for each other but lacked privacy. The skies had opened up and it poured, but Kelly had tugged him into the woods, sloshing through the wet grass until they reached the forest. Naked in the rain, they’d made love beneath the trees. It had been wild and exhilarating and primitive, his wet skin rubbing against hers, the passion flaring in his eyes as he took her...
Oh, boy. Judging from the heated look on his face, he remembered, as well. Keeping the sensual memories at bay, Kelly dangled the bandanna.
“No pink, not even a hint of mauve? You tough navy SEALs don’t carry a supply of fashionable bandannas? I can’t wear this. You never know when Vogue will be doing a photo shoot in the forest. I simply need accessories with designer labels.”
Kelly redid her hair and tied on the bandanna. She examined the white T-shirt. Ragged and slightly small, but clean. She shrugged off her grimy blouse and folded it, placing it in her pack. Behind her Sam inhaled sharply.
“Lace. You still wear...lace.”
She glanced down at her pink silk bra with its scalloped edges of lace. She’d forgotten her famous weakness for pretty lingerie.
He had not.
Sam stepped forward, tracing the outline of the bra’s edges with a forefinger. “So delicate,” he murmured.
Heat suffused her body as if his touch were a firebrand. Kelly trembled, unable to break the contact, not certain if she wanted to stop him.
He raised his smoldering gaze and focused on her parted lips. This time she did not move away. Kelly moistened her mouth.
With a low sound, he bent his head and kissed her.
His mouth, so firm and yet soft and warm, commanded her with each lazy stroke of his tongue. The Mage knew how to kiss, knew how to take her arousal and hike it up several notches. He kissed her into a drugged oblivion, just like that first time, as if they had all the time in the world. Everything ceased to exist except this man and his mouth working magick on hers.