by Patti O'Shea
“Where are we?” he asked, voice lower than a whisper.
“In an outbuilding near the temple.” Kendall raised the lights far enough for them to wend their way through the room.
Wyatt led the way up the stairs. He turned down the lights, and as he waited for his eyes to adjust to the lower level of brightness, he listened—there were no sounds emanating from the other side of the wooden door. Slowly, he opened it, but everything remained still.
There was enough moonlight streaming in the windows for Wyatt to clearly see the cluttered room. Everywhere he looked there were tables filled with aromatic herbs, and sheaves of dried plants hung from the rafters. It took some searching to find the door amid this disorder, but he bet it was deliberate. When he located it, he reached back and took Kendall’s hand.
Ducking and twisting to avoid low-hanging herbs, he moved toward the exit. Although they were out of the temple, Bug’s palm continued to tingle, sending wave after wave of energy to him. He scowled, then pushed the irritation aside.
“This herb house is on the far side of the pyramid,” Bug explained. “To reach Sullivan and security headquarters, we’ll have to walk around nearly half of the temple.”
That just figured. Given the size of the pyramid, they were going to be exposed for longer than he’d like. The alternative—to take a roundabout path—didn’t sit well with him either.
It was night, but what time was anyone’s guess. He didn’t know what kind of shifts the thieves were working or when they came and went from the temple. They would be watching one spot, though. “Where are we in relation to the main temple entrance?”
“The opposite side.”
He nodded to let her know he’d heard her. That was good news. Depending on how big the ring was, the smugglers might only have one person on the outside of the temple. Wyatt weighed the factors and reached a decision.
“Hang close to me. We’re going to head for Sullivan’s home. We know at least one person’s dirty at security HQ, but the Big Chill is incorruptible. Ready?” When he saw Kendall’s nod, he eased the door open.
Wyatt took the path with the most cover, but even with his caution, there were times when they were completely visible.
The night stayed quiet, but he knew that didn’t mean anything except that they hadn’t run into trouble yet. Wyatt stopped and swallowed a curse. He’d forgotten about this big square. Going around it would be worse than crossing it. Either way, they’d be exposed, but at least if they went through it, they could use the shadows of the temple itself.
He looked back at Kendall, and she nodded once. The show of support should have lightened his mood, except he couldn’t stop remembering. This wasn’t the same plaza that Berkant and Zolianna had died in—that was on the other side of the temple—but it was similar enough that he couldn’t put that mob scene out of his head.
Maybe that was why his nerves were so taut. Wyatt studied the area more carefully, but he didn’t see or hear anything that gave him reason to hesitate. His sixth sense, though, said something was off. It was a judgment call. While this area was a hot zone, he didn’t see any advantages to wandering the city on a convoluted path to elude the smugglers. The quicker they reached Sullivan, the quicker Bug would be safe. He tugged Kendall’s hand, signaling her to move.
The darkness at the pyramid’s base wasn’t as deep as he would have liked, but they went unchallenged, and once they were clear of the ceremonial plaza, they’d have a lot more cover.
Although he never paused, Wyatt moved cautiously. The hair on his nape prickled, but their path remained unblocked.
By the time they neared the corner of the pyramid, he had a route through the city and several alternates picked out—just in case. Wyatt slowed their pace. This was the one place where there was a chance for an ambush. He wasn’t taking any chances.
Wyatt pulled his hand free of Kendall’s and began to scope out the angle. But before he could do much more than take a quick glance, three smugglers came around the corner, pistols drawn.
If he tried to reach for his own weapon, they’d shoot, and he had to make sure they didn’t hurt Bug. Damn it, he wouldn’t fail this time. Berkant hadn’t been able to protect Zolianna, but he was saving Kendall—no matter what it took.
Chapter Twenty
Kendall took in the situation in the blink of an eye. Calling on Zoli—her powers, she heated the smugglers’ pistols. The plastic pieces melted instantly, and it took only a fraction of a second longer before the metal became so hot the three thieves were forced to drop their weapons. As soon as they clattered to the stones, Wyatt launched himself at the men.
His action caught her flatfooted. Last time, Zolianna had stood by and watched them kill her love. But Kendall wasn’t heavily pregnant, and unlike her life as High Priestess, this time she’d been trained to fight. She ran after Wyatt.
Choosing the smallest man, Kendall landed a kick to the back of his knee. His leg buckled, but he didn’t go down, and with a growl of anger, he turned to face her.
She wanted him away from Wyatt, so she eased back. Using her forearm, she blocked his first strike. Then Kendall grabbed hold of the man and brought up her knee. He twisted out of the way, so that she hit his hip, not his groin.
They broke away from each other and circled. His eyes glittered in the moonlight, making him appear inhuman, or at least evil. She heard a groan, and her gaze flew to Wyatt.
The distraction cost her. The jerk grabbed her from behind. Lifting her right leg, Kendall kicked his shin as hard as she could, and at the same time, jabbed him with her elbow and gave him a head butt.
His hold slackened. She broke free, and clasping her hands together, brought them down on the back of his neck with enough force to drive him to the ground. She hesitated; the man was reeling, struggling to regain his feet.
Then she heard Wyatt groan again, and Kendall found her killer instinct. She wouldn’t let him die for her. With a silent apology, she kicked the thief in the head. This time, he stayed down.
Wyatt. Spinning around, she raced for him.
One of the two men had his arms pinned behind his back, while the other pummeled him. Kendall snarled low in her throat. Those bastards. There was a scuffle, and the two men blocked her view. She didn’t know what they were doing to Wyatt.
Almost there. She was almost close enough to help.
When she could see again, Kendall spotted the glint of a knife, and she called on the energy. The blade melted, dripping molten steel onto the henchman’s hand. His scream echoed.
Wyatt twisted free from his captor, and as he struck out, Kendall noted his holster was empty. Scanning the area, she looked for his pistol. She found it near the smuggler who’d been wielding the knife. Using telekinesis, she sent the weapon sailing out of his reach. They both chased after it.
Kendall reached it first and the thief tried to grab her. Before he could touch her, though, Wyatt had him, and with a violent twist, he broke the bastard’s neck.
As Wyatt dropped the man he’d just killed to the ground, Kendall looked for the guy Wyatt had been fighting. She found him motionless on the plaza.
With all their attackers accounted for, she went and retrieved the pistol. Her legs were shaking, but her hands were steady enough as she returned the weapon to Wyatt. “Thanks, darlin’,” he said as he holstered it.
“Someone had to save that gorgeous ass of yours.” Kendall’s eyes widened when she realized what had come out of her mouth, and, embarrassed, she hurried away.
“You like my backside?” Wyatt teased as he caught up with her. “That wasn’t what you kept reaching for in bed, you know.”
Kendall’s cheeks went so hot, she figured they must be scarlet. “Sorry, I don’t know why I said that. My brain is all jumbled up or something.”
“It’s okay,” he told her, his arm going around her waist. “It’s the adrenaline. Try not to crash on me, though, because we are a long way from safe, and I need you alert.”
> She took a deep breath. “I’ll give it a shot.”
“Good. Now let’s get out of here and find Sullivan. I want this over ASAP. Then, Bug, you and I can have a talk.”
Wyatt took his arm from around her, and snagged her hand instead. Kendall looked at him, but the expression on his face was resolute. That hadn’t been a threat, but a promise.
*** *** ***
Alex sat unmoving on his front porch, the shadows hiding him from view. It was after midnight, and he’d been camped here for hours, out of touch for the first time since Hunter’s body had been discovered. He needed the time alone.
Never before in his life had he been as furious at another human being as he’d been at Stacey. It had taken all his self-command to remain silent in the mess hall. He knew anything he said would be inflammatory. Besides, he refused to air their problems in front of an audience. God knew, the gossip mongers on the post would have a field day if he did.
Shit, part of him still couldn’t believe it. The woman he’d lived with for three years, the woman who’d claimed to love him, had been prepared to walk out without telling him about the baby.
Maybe she was getting even with him. After all, it was his fault she was pregnant since he’d promised to take over the responsibility for birth control. She’d even reminded him, but before he could get to the infirmary, that bout of food poisoning had laid low more than half his personnel, and he’d had forty-eight hellish hours trying to find ways to cover the security responsibilities of J Nine. Even after some of his people started coming back, they’d been weakened, and his juggling act had continued for another ten days. By the time the crisis was over, he’d forgotten about his promise.
Honesty forced Alex to discard the idea that this was some kind of revenge for his lapse. Stace was too straightforward for that kind of shit, and she’d be more likely to rip his head off than anything else. Why the hell then had she kept this secret?
His stomach clenched. Maybe she’d decided he’d make a lousy father and she didn’t want him messing up their kid.
Alex couldn’t blame her for that. He’d never had a really good role model when it came to parenting. His mother had been a selfish bitch who’d considered him nothing more than a pawn in some bizarre war with his father. And God knew while his dad had tried, he hadn’t been the best parent either. First and foremost, he’d been a soldier. Sure, when he was home, he tried to make up for his absences, but he’d been gone more than he was present. Besides, Alex hadn’t seen his dad from age five to fifteen, and a lot of damage had been done by then.
He sighed silently. No doubt about it, he was a bad bet to raise a child, but Stacey should have told him about the baby anyway. Then, after he knew, she could have let him know she didn’t want him near their son or daughter. It would have hurt, but not half as much as her concealing the information had.
They needed to talk, but Alex didn’t think he was capable of having a conversation yet—at least not a constructive one. He was still too pissed.
When he spoke to her, he’d have to be cool. Maybe Stacey didn’t want him to help raise their child, but for damn sure he was getting some visitation. He would never walk away from his kid; Alex knew what it was like to grow up thinking his father didn’t care, and no child of his was going to experience that pain. His child would know a father’s love—even if Alex only visited on holidays and the occasional weekend.
When he realized he was strangling the arms of his chair, Alex forced himself to release his grip. He had to get a hold on his temper, so he could discuss this with her before she left on the transport tomorrow. Unease filled him, and he pushed it aside. He’d been in tough situations before, and he’d do whatever he needed to do. No way was he letting his kid down.
Maybe Stacey’s pride had prevented her from telling him about the baby. She was aware that he’d ask her to marry him the instant he knew, and she wouldn’t want him to feel obligated. But even before she’d walked out on him, he’d planned to spend the rest of his life with her. The baby just would have sped up his proposal. He’d have gotten around to it on his own—eventually.
The sound of running jerked him out of his thoughts. Alex watched as two people turned onto his sidewalk and hurried up the steps to his front entrance. A woman pounded on the door. “For heaven’s sake, Bug, softer. The colonel will hear you without half the danged neighborhood being alerted too.”
As if suddenly sensing Alex’s presence, Montgomery stiffened and glanced around. His captain’s razor-sharp instincts brought Alex an odd pride. As their eyes met and the kid ID’d him, his body relaxed.
He captured the woman’s fist before she could knock again, and said, “Come on, darlin’.”
Alex recognized Kendall Thomas, as he returned his captains’ salutes. Both looked exhausted and had obviously lost weight, but they were healthy enough, thank God.
“At ease,” Alex said softly. “I’m assuming you’re not here to turn yourselves in for being AWOL.”
Montgomery remained impassive, but the girl looked like she wanted to go for his throat. For the first time in a long while, Alex felt like smiling.
“No, sir,” Montgomery said. “We’re here to report a smuggling ring on Jarved Nine.”
“I know about it.” That shocked them. “Captain Thomas, have you considered a career in investigation? I have MPs who aren’t half as good as you are at following trails. The level of detail in your notes was impressive and very helpful.”
“Thank you, sir.” She sounded distracted, barely pausing before asking, “Has the transport left yet?”
The non sequitur had him stiffening. “It’s scheduled to take off in about ten hours or so.”
The girl turned to Montgomery. “We might still have time! ”
“Start talking, Thomas,” Alex ordered. He wanted answers now.
“Sir—” Montgomery started.
“Is your name Thomas?” He didn’t have to say another word to shut the kid up. Alex turned to the girl, and she immediately launched into a condensed, need-to-know report.
“The smugglers are planning to steal the obelisks from your sister’s house—the ones in her bedroom. They’re supposed to be on this transport because they have a really important buyer waiting, which means they’ll have to break in and take them tonight. Sir, their orders are to get those crystals no matter what they have to do or who they have to hurt!”
She said it all without drawing a breath, so it took a second for the words to make sense. When they did, his blood turned to ice, and his heart spasmed. Not only was his family at risk, but Stacey too. Alex jerked to his feet, struggling for composure. “Montgomery, are you capable of acting as my backup?”
“Yes, sir,” he said.
“Thomas, I want you to go to security headquarters and send reinforcements to the royal residence.”
“With all due respect, Colonel,” Montgomery said, “there’s no way in hell I’m letting Captain Thomas out of my sight. Every member of that smuggling ring is looking for her, and if they spot her, she’s dead.”
Alex started to point out that the silver oak leaf he wore beat a couple of bars, but he swallowed the words. If he dragged Montgomery with him, and all he did was worry about Thomas, the kid would be worse than useless. A distracted man in a life-or-death situation was a danger to himself and others.
He dismissed the idea of letting Thomas come with them. She didn’t have the training or experience to be any help, and Montgomery would be so busy watching out for her that he could jeopardize Stacey or Ravyn or Cam. Alex thought about suggesting Thomas seal herself inside his house, but guessed the kid would still have his attention divided. That left only one option.
“Okay, let’s try this then. You stick with her and you both find me some backup—send them to the royal residence ASAP. Tell them I’ll be inside when they arrive. I’m not waiting.”
The kid nodded. “Major Brody will be able to help you out until the troops get there, sir.”
> “McNamara assigned him to night duty a few days ago. That makes it critical that you don’t waste time, understood?” Alex all but growled the words, but his impatience level was rising.
“Understood, Colonel.”
Before Alex could reach the stairs, his unease became full-out terror. Ravyn. Since she’d been five years old, he’d known when his sister was in trouble. He recognized the feeling instantly. Something was seriously wrong.
“Move it!” he ordered. And Alex started running.
*** *** ***
Stacey couldn’t sleep. No matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t rid her mind of the expression on Alex’s face when he’d found out about the baby. It had only been there for an instant, then rage had replaced it, but she hadn’t needed more time in order to recognize it. Pain. A pain so deep, there weren’t words to quantify it. Her keeping this secret had hurt him badly.
She hadn’t expected such a strong reaction.
Turning from her side to her back, Stacey draped an arm across her eyes. He hadn’t said more than a handful of words to her after Tami had dropped the bombshell, but she knew better than to believe that would last. Either he was formulating a strategy or trying to calm down enough to talk to her without losing his self-command. Sullivan hated being out of control.
A soft moan escaped as she realized Alex probably considered her secrecy to be on par with the manipulative tricks his mother had used against his father. His parents, both of them, had left Alex with a lot of baggage. Too much. The only thing that had saved him was his mother sending him to his dad when he was fifteen. And even then, Stacey thought Ravyn was the one that had given him a ray of light, not Gil or Marie, his stepmother.
Ravyn had helped Alex open his heart again. She’d needed someone to watch out for her, and her new stepbrother had taken on the role of guardian without hesitation. This was partly why he’d had such trouble standing aside for Damon. Sullivan needed to be needed, and with Ravyn married, he’d lost the one thing that made him feel worthwhile.
