Eternal Nights

by Patti O'Shea

  The figures were armed—she saw one of them was wearing a pistol belt—and she pulled energy, ready to wield it instantly if they drew their weapons.

  They managed to remain undetected until Wyatt aimed his pistol at them, and hollered, “Freeze.”

  Of course, the pair didn’t do that. Even as they reached for their pistols, Kendall started directing the power, melting the plastic pieces and heating the metal. They weren’t able to hold on to their weapons long.

  She hurried to close the distance. Anyone who knew Wyatt knew he wouldn’t shoot an unarmed person, and these two were not going to cede quietly. Dismay filled her as she grew close enough to ID the duo—George and McNamara. She’d really wanted the colonel to be innocent.

  Kendall didn’t have time to think about it before the fight broke out. Without hesitating, she dove in, taking on McNamara. She knew the colonel would be the more formidable opponent, but Wyatt might pull his punches if he had to go head-to-head with a woman, and she didn’t want anything to happen to him.

  McNamara was a street fighter, and Kendall found herself in a no-holds-barred brawl. Blocking a blow with her forearm, Kendall landed a thigh kick. Some of the neighborhoods she’d lived in weren’t pretty, and this was the type of free-for-all that she was most comfortable with.

  The colonel made a lunge for Kendall’s holster, but she turned her hip, and went for the woman’s eyes. McNamara barely twisted away in time to avoid Kendall’s fingers.

  Ignoring the glare, Kendall looked for vulnerabilities. McNamara struck out at her, and she was able to grab the woman’s arm. Kendall spun her into the side of a building, but before she could smash her into the stone, the colonel ducked away.

  A quick glance to her right showed her that Wyatt was still tied up with George the Jerk. It surprised her, and she stared a second too long. Her inattention cost her. McNamara grabbed Kendall’s hair and pulled until tears came to her eyes.

  “You fight like a girl,” she told the colonel, trying to enrage her. But even as she derided her, Kendall dug her own fingers into the woman’s short hair, and pulled every bit as hard. Maybe they looked like a pair of fifth-grade schoolgirls, but this was causing some pain.

  Kendall leaned away as McNamara tried to bite her. Finally, she hooked a foot behind the colonel’s leg, and pushed her hard enough to make her fall to the walkway. Unfortunately, Kendall was pulled down with her.

  They rolled on the ground. The colonel was in her mid-forties; Kendall was twenty-four. She had youth and stamina on her side, and she used them. As she gained the top position, McNamara sank her teeth into her left hand.

  Pain roared through her; so did anger. Kendall slammed the colonel’s head into the stone-paved street until McNamara released her. She thunked the woman’s head back one more time for good measure.

  McNamara wasn’t out cold, but she was stunned. Kendall used the moment to flip her on her belly and pull her arm up between her shoulder blades. Only then did she look around for Wyatt. He was standing, arms folded over his chest, watching. “You could have helped,” she complained mildly.

  “Darlin’, I was looking for a way to join the fight, but the way you two were rolling around, I didn’t have an opening.” He grinned. “Remind me never to bite you.”

  “Mar—” she cut herself off as she recalled he hated it when she used his handle. “Wy, I’m okay with you biting me—in fact, I have a few places in mind.” When she heard what she’d said, Kendall gulped. To pull his attention away from that, she held up her injured hand. Blood dripped down her palm. “I need to swing by the infirmary and get a rabies shot,” she joked.

  McNamara didn’t like that comment, and she struggled. Kendall pulled her arm harder, and the woman gasped before she subsided. “He’s out?” she asked, nodding toward Dr. George.

  “Yeah. For a rich puke, he put up a heck of a fight.”

  Before she could ask anything else, Wyatt tensed, and turned, aiming his pistol even as he shifted to her back to protect her. She heard a whistle in some strange cadence, then Wy said, “It’s okay. It’s my team.”

  “What took you guys so long?” he asked. Kendall looked over her shoulder to see an army. Not only were Wyatt’s men there, but so were Sullivan and at least three other Spec Ops teams.

  “Sorry, Marsh,” Flare said, deadpan. “We didn’t think Kendall needed any help since you were standing around watching her fight.”

  Wyatt growled and she laughed.

  “Stand down, Captain,” Flare said, coming up beside her. “I’ll take your prisoner.”

  When she was on her feet, Wyatt put his arm around her shoulders and steered her over to Sullivan. She listened, her mood souring, as he gave his report. Two privates were dead for no reason other than they’d drawn guard duty on the wrong night.

  Sullivan began issuing orders. Wyatt left to help his men secure the prisoners, and Kendall found herself on the edge of the group, forgotten. The bite hurt, and she pressed her hand against her thigh, trying to make it feel better. It didn’t help.

  Wyatt and his team escorted McNamara and George away, and the other teams prepared to head out to the transport. She wanted to join them, but knew she’d be a hindrance. All she could do was hope that nothing happened to the men or the relics.

  “Captain Thomas.”

  “Sir?” Kendall came to attention.

  “At ease,” Sullivan told her. “I just wanted to tell you that you’ve done a good job.”

  Kendall gaped at him; she couldn’t help it. “Thanks, sir.”

  “I wasn’t joking earlier tonight when I suggested you think about a career in security. Your files on the smuggling ring are going to go a long way toward convicting the participants.”

  She thanked him again, bemused by all the compliments.

  “But you should have come to me with what you knew.”

  “I did try to talk to you, Colonel.” Kendall refused to let him cow her. “You told me to make an appointment.”

  “There was a good reason for that, but I meant that you should have come to me the minute you suspected something was happening. I’m here for a reason,” he added, voice hard.

  “Next time, sir, your office is my first stop.”

  Sullivan shook his head. “I think I liked it better when I intimidated you. Go catch up with Montgomery. The kid is going to give himself whiplash if he keeps looking over here. I’ll meet you at the infirmary when things are wrapped up.”

  “Yes, sir.” Kendall saluted and hurried to close the gap.

  Wrapped up. After weeks of stress and days of being hunted, things were almost finished. They’d done it. They’d taken down the smuggling ring. Kendall started shaking as it sank in that at last she and Wyatt were safe.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Alex looked up at the royal residence and sighed. He was exhausted and felt about a million years old, give or take a millennium, but he’d accomplished something worthwhile tonight.

  Wearily, he climbed the steep, narrow stone steps to his sister’s home and went looking for Stacey. He found her in the main gathering chamber, curled up in the corner of the sofa with her feet tucked beneath her. Wordlessly, she watched him cross the room and sit beside her. Alex leaned back, resting his head against the couch, and stared up at the ceiling.

  “Ravyn’s okay,” he said quietly. “Doc said she caught a blast from a popper, but she should be raring to go in a matter of hours. Brody and Cam are sacked out at the infirmary with her.”

  He could sense the tension leaching from Stacey’s muscles. “Thank God. What else happened? I know something did.”

  “One of the men we captured here told us that there were plans for the big players in the smuggling ring to take the transport and leave. We got there in time to catch about a dozen of them all together, including Colonel McNamara.”

  “Bet you enjoyed reeling her in,” Stacey said after a moment. “The two of you have been at each other’s throats for nearly three years.”


  Alex shook his head. “I wish I had been the one to arrest her, but I wasn’t. Captain Kendall Thomas wrestled the colonel to the ground and sat on her until we arrived.” A smile crept across his face. “Stace, you should have seen it. McNamara was belly down on the street, her arm twisted up high behind her back, and she was pissed as hell. So was Thomas. The girl kept muttering about how no one would get away with looting the Old City as long as she was breathing.”

  Alex saw Stacey’s lips twitch, but she said, “You shouldn’t call her a girl. It’s sexist.”

  “Bullshit. I’m not referring to her as a girl because she’s female; I call her a girl because she isn’t even twenty-five years old yet. When did these officers get so young?”

  Stacey’s grin widened, and she shifted, lowering her feet to the floor. “The better question might be when did you get old.”

  Alex blew out a long, slow breath. “Yeah. The thing is, in my head, I’m still twenty-four. But then I’m surrounded by these kids, and I feel like Methuselah.”

  “Do you think it might seem that way because you’ll be forty on your next birthday?”

  “Maybe,” he admitted. Alex didn’t say anything else for a moment. Stacey wasn’t being short with him. Granted, her tone was fairly impersonal, but it was an improvement over how their conversations had gone recently. “You don’t have to worry about being on the transport this morning,” he said. “We’re holding it for a thorough search. It’ll be two or three days minimum.”

  “Did you—” Stacey started heatedly.

  “It has nothing to do with you,” Alex interrupted. “We have to pull that thing apart looking for contraband. If you have a problem, I suggest you discuss it with Captain Thomas. I had to listen to her lecture me for nearly half an hour, and I’m not going through that again—not even for you.” He shook his head. “She’s passionate about protecting the antiquities here.”

  “I wish I’d been there to see you chastised. I’m surprised you didn’t bring her to heel before a half hour was up, though.”

  “Bring her to heel? Ha! I could have been a four-star general, and I wouldn’t have been able to stop that girl from giving me an earful. And Montgomery—the other missing captain—was sitting there smirking the whole time. I’d still be trapped while she told me how I’d failed in my duty as head of security if she hadn’t caught the kid chuckling. I snuck out of the infirmary while she was chewing him out.”

  Stacey didn’t reply, and the silence lengthened. Alex liked sitting with her, just being. It had been too long since he’d had this, but he had more he wanted to tell her. “I think we got Hunter’s murderer—his team’s warrant officer, John Dye. Catfish would have trusted him and let him get close. We don’t have evidence yet, and Dye hasn’t confessed, but I’m sure we’ll find what we need to convict him, now that we know where to look.” He hesitated, unsure Stace would care, but he needed to say this too. “I didn’t brief Montgomery about the murder. The kid will find out soon enough and blame himself. He’s the one who asked Hunter to watch out for Captain Thomas.”

  “Why are you telling me this?” she asked. There was curiosity in her voice, nothing harsher.

  “Because you’re the only person I can share things with, the only person I trust with my guard down.” Alex sat up and shifted until he faced her. “Can we talk? Without anger and hurt? Just have an honest, open discussion about us?”

  “Without emotion, you mean?”

  “That’s not possible.” Alex ran his hand over the top of his hair. “We’ve got too much between us not to have emotion. I’m not great with words, at least not to express how I feel, and whenever I try, you hop off the train before I can hook up all my cars. What I’m asking is that you don’t jump to conclusions, don’t make accusations, don’t storm out of the room. Let me have the time I need to find what I want to say, or if I screw up and say it wrong, give me the chance to explain what I meant. Can you do that?”

  “Are you implying this is all my fault?”

  Alex gnashed his teeth. “That’s not what I’m saying, but this is the kind of comment that derails me. Why do you have to look for hidden meanings? Can’t we talk honestly without one of us struggling for an advantage over the other?”

  “What’s the point in talking now?” she asked.

  He took a breath and pushed the frustration aside. “The point is us. We have three years together. That’s a lot to throw away without trying till the end.”

  “You didn’t mention the baby.”

  “That’s part two of the discussion. You and I are part one.” And how the second half of the conversation went would depend in large measure on what happened in the first, but he wasn’t stupid enough to tell her that.

  “Okay,” Stacey said slowly. “I guess we can try.”

  Maybe he couldn’t change her mind, but he’d had a few epiphanies tonight, and he was imparting them. She gazed at him expectantly, but he found himself at a loss for words—again. Why was he always much smoother in his head than when it came down to crunch time? Whenever he tried to talk about feelings, he was about as articulate as a rock.

  “Well?” she prompted. There was no impatience, more of a resignation, as if she’d expected nothing else.

  Running through a variety of different potential starting points, Alex decided on the most salient. “I love you, Stacey.”

  She stiffened. “No, you don’t.”

  Irritation rose, and he struggled to control it. “Do you think I’m just saying it? I’ve never spoken those words, not even to my sister or nephew.”

  “I think you’re claiming to love me because I’m pregnant, and you want to do the right thing. We both know about your unbending sense of honor.” Stacey got up and walked away, but at least she didn’t leave the room.

  “You’re wrong,” Alex told her quietly. “I’ve never lied to you. Not even to make things easier on myself. Remember the night you kicked me out of our bedroom? We both know I could have claimed to be looking at info on the murder, and I would have been out of the doghouse. I didn’t do that; you know why?” He stood and crossed the floor until he stood behind her. “Because I love you. A man doesn’t lie to the people who are important to him.”

  Stacey shook her head, but she didn’t turn to look at him or comment on what he’d said. Alex was okay with that. Her silence gave him time to find the words he needed.

  “You say you’re the one who did all the work to hold us together, and you’re right about that, I know it. You’ve said I’m an emotional coward. You’re right about that too. I could tell you horror stories about my childhood, but in the end, they’re not important. I’m an adult, and I repeatedly made the decision to protect myself. It wasn’t until I saw that bastard grab you tonight that I realized what an idiot I’d been.”

  He reached out, his hand not entirely steady, and lightly ran it down her hair before jerking his arm back. She glanced at him over her shoulder, her face impassive.

  “You could have died, Stace.” Alex had to clear his throat. “You could have died believing that you didn’t mean a whole lot to me, but the truth is, you mean too damn much. I never wanted to love anyone as deeply as I love you. It scares the shit out of me, and that’s putting it mildly. I honest to God don’t know how Ravyn found the courage to throw herself into her relationship with Brody. She must be stronger than I am.”

  “Ravyn,” Stacey said, shifting around, “had you to protect her. She had you to turn to when she needed someone in her corner. Who did you have, Alex?”

  He started to shrug that off, to deny it meant anything, but that was the old Alex, and he’d sworn that man wasn’t going to get in his way. “Ravyn was there for me too.”

  “No, she wasn’t. Not in the way I’m talking about, and not in the way you were there for her. She couldn’t be, not with a ten-year gap between your ages. For much of her life, she was simply too young to offer the support you needed, and by the time she was old enough, the pattern of your rela
tionship was set.”

  Alex stared at Stacey. She was defending him? “I had to be strong for her, especially after her mother and my father died. She was reeling.” He grimaced as he recalled a conversation he’d had with Stacey years ago. “So was I, but I was twenty-four, and a man. She was barely into her teens.”

  Stacey turned to face him, her arms hugging her waist. “Over the last three years, you could have reached for me.”

  There was only a hint of accusation in her voice, and Alex guessed she’d struggled hard for that evenness. With a faint smile, he said, “I was thirty-six when we met, and by then my defenses were firmly entrenched. It took seeing a gun at your head to shake me up.”

  “And I’m supposed to believe that in a matter of seconds, you changed completely and irrevocably.”

  “Sarcasm,” Alex pointed out mildly, and watched her blush. “And no, we both know it won’t be that easy. I’m going to have to work on it every day for years before it becomes ingrained. You’ll just have to call me on it when I backslide, and we both know I will. Not much of a bargain for you, but there’ll never be another man who loves you more than I do, even when I forget to tell you.” He shrugged, trying to disguise his discomfort.

  “I wish I could believe you,” Stacey said, “but we’ve been through too much. I can’t spend the rest of my life fighting with you, trying to get you to change.”

  His heart had settled somewhere around his boots. This wasn’t going well, and he couldn’t blame her. He’d blown opportunity after opportunity in their time together, held on to his pride at the expense of their relationship. It would serve him right if he had only his dignity to keep him warm, but he had to believe he still had a chance, had to believe she still loved him. Emotions didn’t turn on and off so easily.

  “You have no reason to trust that things will be different,” he said, “but I swear they will. This time I want to change, and that distinction makes all the difference in success.”