Out of the Darkness

by Jaime Rush

  When she said goodbye to him and turned toward the door, Rand looked away. She walked out of the room, wiping her eyes, and killing him…just killing him.

  “I want to tell him that his son wasn’t a crazy murderer,” she said, emotion tightening her voice. “I need to tell him that it wasn’t Dad’s fault. It broke his heart, knowing his son had done that. I need to find out more, so I can relieve him of that before he goes.”

  Rand thought of his father. If he had embezzled money because his brain wasn’t right, which Rand wasn’t convinced of, he wasn’t sure his mother would ever be sober enough to process it.

  After a deep, shuddering breath, Zoe continued on. She kept her focus on the floor, her arms wrapped around her waist. She didn’t want him to see her tears or her vulnerability, and he didn’t want to see them either. Her chin quivered with the tears she was holding in. Every muscle in his body strained to touch her, to put his arm around her shoulder or, even worse, pull her into his arms.

  Cut that out. You do that, then you’ll be wanting to do a lot more and you’ll get attached, which is going to suck for you and her when you hit the road. Remember how much you hate sympathy. Maybe she does, too.

  Don’t look at her. Just focus on those ugly sneakers of hers and don’t think about her wedding-ring tattoo. Don’t look at her face or the way her body is hunched in pain.

  He stepped up beside her, his arm brushing ever so slightly against hers. Their gazes met for a moment, and he gave her a smile. The sad little smile she gave him back yanked his lungs right out of his chest.

  He looked away as they headed toward the entrance, focusing on those doors sliding open. Then, as they walked out under the portico, on the front tire of his bike peeking out from behind the van he’d used as cover.

  Then on the guy in dark shades standing several yards from the bike, talking on the phone…the guy watching the entrance.

  “I think we got trouble.” Rand took her hand and pulled her around to face him so she wouldn’t look over and give away their suspicion. He did just as he’d wanted to do earlier, pull her into his arms and give her a consoling hug. “Pretend I’m comforting you, you’re all sad, boo hoo. Stay here for a few seconds and let me scope the guy out.”

  Her voice was warm against his neck. “Is he tall, a bit on the thin side, with brown curly hair? Looks Middle Eastern.”

  “Yeah. He’s got scratches on his face, like a big cat swiped at him.”

  “Steele. The guy who tried to take me down in the Keys.”

  Rand wanted to kill him right there but he couldn’t just pull out his gun and take aim when he wasn’t absolutely sure it was the guy.

  “Lean and Lethal’s between us and Blue. Let’s stroll this way, see if he follows.” He slung his arm around her shoulder, and they walked away from the bike. “I’m pretty good at eluding people. I guess you’re pretty good, too. You’ve ditched these guys twice.”

  He heard the tremble in her voice when she said, “I got lucky. But how long is my luck going to hold out?”

  His arm tightened on her involuntarily. “Remember, it’s your lucky day.”

  That got a smile out of her, albeit a nervous one. Her gaze shifted over his shoulder. “He’s coming.”

  “I saw him.” A mix of dread and pressure filled his chest. “What’s around the back of this building?”

  “A courtyard. Bushes. Old people sitting in the sun.”

  “Will we be trapped?”

  “No, there are spaces between the buildings.”

  “We need to go around, get out of his sight, and get to Blue. As soon as we turn the corner, he’s going to be on us. Are you ready to run?”

  Fear tightened her pretty face. “I’ll do whatever I need to. I kind of like being alive.”

  He shot ahead ten seconds.

  The zing of a bullet. Zoe’s cry. Blood.

  No!

  He threw his body against hers, twisting to the side so he wouldn’t fall on her. “He’s shooting at us. Going to shoot at us.” He scrambled to his feet and pulled her up.

  A bullet chipped the corner of the building.

  With her hand still clutched in his, he said, “Time to haul ass.”

  CHAPTER 10

  W

  hen Amy and Lucas emerged from the bedroom and walked into the kitchen, he poured two glasses of juice and handed one to her. Their gazes never left each other. “I’m going to see if I can find anything on Robbins.” He went into the office, and she suspected he was also going to look up DNA testing. She could not, would not, believe that they were related.

  Petra picked up on their tense mood. “What happened?”

  Amy had her arms around herself, and she dropped down onto the couch and tucked into a corner. “Gladstone broke in again. He’s becoming more invasive. I don’t know how much longer I can communicate with Cyrus before Gladstone becomes dangerous. Cyrus did manage to tell me that he thinks Robbins would cooperate.”

  Petra said, “Wouldn’t that be great, to find someone who could tell us everything.”

  Eric scowled. “Yeah, right before he shoots us. What about the location?”

  “Darkwell’s family has a lot of money. They may have homes elsewhere that he could use.”

  Orn’ry was screeching, and Eric slid a slit-eyed glance toward the hallway. “Chicken, anyone?”

  “He’ll get used to being here. He’s been through a lot, you know,” Amy said.

  With a grumble, Eric stalked into the kitchen and opened a beer. “We need to get online and find out everything we can about the Darkwell family. With the great war-hero brother recently dying, we should be able to find something.”

  “Shhh!” Petra lifted her hand as she turned to the television. They all tuned in when they heard Zoe’s name.

  Zoe and Rand tore through the courtyard, their hands still linked. That connection made it difficult to maneuver around the tables and people, but it gave her a bit of security. She wasn’t alone this time.

  “That’s definitely Steele,” she said between gulps of air. “We need to get away from these people. I don’t want them shot.”

  Just as they turned the corner, she glanced back and saw Steele running after them. A nurse yelled something and stepped in front of him.

  Zoe’s chest hurt with exertion and fear. “Can we make it to Blue?”

  “Too open. He’d have a clear shot at us. We need to give him the slip.”

  He ran to a large, empty pallet leaning against the wall up ahead. They edged between the bushes and the wall. He pressed as close to the wall as he could. She edged in front of him, the pallet scraping her back. Any second Steele would come bounding around the corner.

  Rand leaned to the side. “No good. Down.”

  They dropped to their knees, him guiding her to the ground and squeezing next to her. He was so close she could feel his pounding heartbeat as though it came from her. Their bodies, now damp and heated, pressed against each other from hip to chest. Her legs straddled his, thigh to thigh. She felt a long, hard ridge pressed into her hip. Was that—? No, had to be her imagination.

  Steele’s footsteps crunched through the grass.

  Something nearby fell to the ground. Her face was tucked into the crook of Rand’s neck, her head tilted upward so their eyes locked. She saw the question in his eyes: Your crazy energy? She shook her head. I don’t know.

  Very slowly, he moved his other hand around to his back. The gun. His eyes widened. He looked to his left. She followed his gaze…to where the gun lay several feet away. It must have fallen when they’d slid against the wall.

  Steele slowed his steps. “I know you’re here, you crazy bitch. My watch is going whacked.”

  She squeezed her eyes shut. St. Thomas. St. Martin.

  She couldn’t see through the bushes, but she glimpsed movement. Rand’s fingers tightened on her back, pressed against the flesh between the slits of her dress. It was only then that she realized her hands were on Rand, too, gripping
him. She relaxed her fingers.

  Steele’s footsteps moved past them. Rand swiveled his head a fraction of an inch, perhaps eyeing a gap in the bushes. Was he gone?

  Another sound. Yes, probably her crazy energy.

  Got to control it. Come on, you’re the control freak.

  Lean and Lethal, as Rand had called him, spoke from a few feet away. “It’s Steele. Put your viewer to work. They’re hiding here somewhere.”

  Viewer! Petra had said they had the ability to spy psychically. Someone was going to see them. They’d be trapped. No way could Rand get to the gun before Steele would take them out.

  His eyes were as wide as hers. He knew what that meant, too.

  Wait. Cheveyo had told Petra about putting up a shield. What had he said?

  “You see them?” Steele said. “Good. Give me a clue.”

  A golden shield. Things bouncing off it. Hold the image.

  For those seconds, though, until the shield took effect, their enemy could still see them.

  Stay calm. Don’t freak out, that’s what he told Petra. She closed her eyes, laid her cheek against Rand, and concentrated. The smell of his body heat filled her senses.

  Golden shield.

  “Wood? Like stacks of wood? Looks like they’re doing some kind of construction around the back.”

  If the viewer saw the pallet, they’d be done for.

  Things bouncing off.

  Bouncing.

  Ten seconds.

  “What do you mean, you lost them?” His footsteps moved away. “Get them back.”

  Rand leaned a little to the right. “Get ready.” His pupils shrank to pinpoints. “He’s going to walk around the corner in six seconds. We’re going to get up, and I’ll grab the gun. We’ll go back the way we came.”

  She nodded, brushing against his chin.

  “One. Two. Three.”

  They climbed out, he grabbed the gun, and they took off.

  They rounded the front corner. With a glance behind them, they sprinted across the parking lot in a crouch. They crossed the far section of the lot, ducking behind the row of vehicles at the outer edge.

  She’d never been so happy to see a motorcycle.

  “Put your helmet on,” he whispered, as they took the last steps to it. “If he chases us, we’ve got the advantage of mobility. But we’re vulnerable out in the open.”

  So much for comfort.

  She pulled on the helmet and climbed on as fast as he did. He kept an eye on the corner of the cluster of buildings where Steele was. His pupils shrank again.

  He started the bike and rode on the strip of grass at the edge of the lot to keep out of sight. As soon as he reached the end of the row, he darted right and gunned it to the entrance. She dared a look back. No sign of Steele.

  Rand didn’t bother stopping at the entrance to the parking lot. He rolled right into the stream of traffic.

  An oncoming car screeched its tires, making a U-turn. A coincidence?

  No way. The black sedan was coming up on them fast, cutting off a truck to pass another car.

  “Hold on, babe,” Rand yelled.

  She hadn’t even caught her breath from the last escape, and here came another one. The man behind the wheel wore sunglasses. Something about him and the way he drove meant business.

  Rand jerked the bike to the left and shot down the center line. He reached the intersection ahead. Traffic going in their direction stopped for the red light. He cut in front of the car to their right and tore down that road. She peered over his shoulder. He was going eighty. Eighty-five. Ninety.

  She looked behind them. No sign of the car. Why was he still screaming down the highway? His body was hard as a rock. She held on tighter, burying her face against his back.

  Two more minutes flew by as he raced down the highway, passing cars, running yellow lights.

  No one was behind them.

  Finally, she screamed, “Rand, why are we still going like a bat out of hell?” When he didn’t respond, she patted his stomach, as far as she dared remove her hand from him. “Rand!”

  His head jerked as though he’d come out of a trance. She felt his body loosen. He stopped at a light, the first one in several minutes. He looked behind them.

  “We lost him years ago.”

  Without a word, he turned into the shopping center on their right. He pulled behind the building and came to a stop. She jumped off, removed her helmet, knelt, and kissed the asphalt.

  When she got up and wiped asphalt crumbs from her lips, he still hadn’t moved. The engine was running, his legs bracing the bike.

  She walked up to him, leaning in front of his face. “Are you all right?”

  He stared ahead.

  She waved her hand in front of him. “Rand?”

  He killed the engine, but he was much slower in taking off his helmet. He set it on the ground, running his hands through his hair. He sucked in deep breaths, just staring into the distance. Finally, he looked at her. “You all right?”

  “Right now it’s you I’m worried about. You were in a trance.”

  He shook his head. “I got waked out. All I could think about was getting away. Just going and going and going. With you on the bike. Dammit, stupid, reckless…” He slapped himself on the head.

  She put her hand on his arm. “Stop it. You got us out of there.”

  “Yeah. I did.” A ghost of a smile hinted at the corners of his mouth but just as quickly faded. “But I almost got you killed, too.”

  “I’m okay.” She lifted her arms. “See?”

  His gaze looked hungry as he did, indeed, see her. An answering hunger tingled through her body right down between her legs.

  She had to know. “Rand, when we were pressed against each other…I thought I felt…did you…” Hell, just say it. “Were you aroused?”

  His mouth quirked. “You know how things fly when you get excited? Like whatever you were sending to the ground? Whenever there’s risk or danger, my energy goes elsewhere. Has since I hit puberty. I used to bug about it big-time, especially when I realized other guys didn’t have such an extreme reaction. I got used to it. Eric told me it’s a side effect of the Booster they gave our parents. It makes us hypersexual.” He took a step closer, heat in his eyes. “Does danger jump you up?”

  Oh, yes. She’d been aware of his body pressed against hers. If she’d been a guy, would she have had a hard-on? “I don’t know.” She took a step back.

  “Can you have multiple orgasms? I guess it’s not all that unusual for girls—”

  “Can you?”

  “Yeah.” He smiled. “I can go all night long. How about you?”

  It was hard to think about her last sexual relations with Rand so close. “I…I don’t think I’m hypersexual. I like sex when it’s done right, but having sex is more personal than I want to get with someone.” She wanted to make love to someone she had feelings for, but because of her freakiness, she couldn’t let herself have feelings. A cruel paradox. “I’m not into casual sex so much.” But sometimes the urge, the hunger, overcame her. “Maybe it does jump me up, as you put it, but I control it.” Most of the time. “I have to control everything, or I’ll have some explaining to do.”

  Rand edged closer. “So it’s not only anger or fear that sets off your crazy energy?”

  “It’s joy, extreme physical pleasure—”

  “Orgasms?” he asked with a lift of his eyebrow, making his spike glint in the light. He let loose with a grin that tickled her stomach. “I’ll bet having sex with you is wild.”

  Her face flushed. “Not for me. I’ve got to hold on so tight to control my passion, worrying about something flying.”

  The green of his eyes were as liquid as the sea in one of her Caribbean posters. “You know, with me you wouldn’t have to—” His pupils dilated for a second, then shrank. “She-it!” He flung himself away and snatched up his helmet.

  “What was that about?”

  “Let’s get back to the tomb.”
/>
  She grabbed his arm just as he was about to jam his helmet back onto his head. “Not until you tell me what that was about.”

  He leaned down into her face. “You really want to know?”

  “I wouldn’t have asked if I didn’t.”

  “I saw us in a serious lip lock. In ten seconds we’d have been tongue dancing.”

  She blinked, backing up a step without even thinking about it. “That’s crazy.” No, it totally wasn’t. Her body had been leaning, actually leaning, toward him as he spoke those last words, and she didn’t have to see the future to know what he was going to say. With him, she wouldn’t have to hold back. He understood what her crazy energy was about. And more tantalizing yet, he was okay with it.

  A pit inside her stomach yawned open, like a cat wakening from a long sleep. It was awake, and it was hungry. Meow. It wanted to growl and scream and completely let go.

  “Crazy,” he agreed, “and foolish and has bad painted all over it in cherry red.”

  “Well, I wasn’t going to go that far.”

  He walked to his bike, twisting his hand around the grip. She saw something on his expression, though, as he stared at the highway beyond, something fierce and afraid. Like he wanted to be there—away—more than anything.

  Without looking at her, he said, “I work alone. That’s how I like it. I don’t want this…this thing happening between us. I don’t want to be responsible for someone, to worry about them, to do stupid things to risk their life.” He looked at her finally. “I am reckless. I’m a risk taker. I never involve anyone else in that, though. I never put someone else at risk. That’s why I work and live alone.”

  It scared him that he’d put her at risk. She could see that in his eyes and the tension in his face. “You were just getting us out of there.”

  He wasn’t buying it. He was mad at himself for putting her at risk. And it hit her. He was mad at himself for caring about her safety. For wanting to kiss her. Even worse, it scared him in a way that flying down a highway going ninety miles an hour on a motorcycle didn’t.