* * *
HER skin prickled. The buzz was unmistakable, and although she saw nothing when she craned around in the seat, Vaughnne knew they’d picked up a tail.
Hopefully it was the white Explorer.
Hopefully.
She didn’t want to think that they had more than one group following them just then.
Sighing, she reached down into the floorboard and pulled up Gus’s bag. She looked over just as he glanced at her. “We’ve got company coming,” she said sourly. “I don’t know how far off they are, but I can feel them.”
A black brow winged up as he shifted his attention back to the road. “How come you can feel it now but not back when we stopped for gas?”
“Could be a variety of reasons,” she said, shrugging. “There were a bunch of people—that makes it harder for me to single anything out. It could be they are searching for me, so they aren’t shielding as hard. My only real psychic ability is telepathy. It’s . . . well, I guess you can call it my active gift. But a lot of us have some limited passive skills that allow us to sense this sort of thing. We just feel different. If whoever it is isn’t shielding, or isn’t shielding as much? He’ll stand out more and I’m more likely to pick up on his vibes.”
“He?”
She made a face. “Could be a she. Gut says he, but who knows?”
“Any idea how many?”
“Nope.” She shrugged and studied the contents of the bag. It was a bad boy’s treasure trove, she decided. Weapons of beauty, for sure. And just about every damn one of them was illegal for civilian use. “I’m going to guess two, because working in teams would appear to be the MO for these goons, but for all I know, it’s four. That’s not likely, though. I doubt they’d want to split the money that many ways.”
He shrugged. “If the risk goes up, the money goes up. Mercenaries are going to be smart and bring in as many men as they need. It’s already been made clear this isn’t going to be an easy job.”
“Gee. Thanks for making me feel better.”
“If you wanted to feel better, you should have left back at the gas station. You should have left with Alex. You should have never gotten involved.” The words were grim. His face, though, was unaffected. He had that sleepy, sexy look in his eyes, and his mouth was relaxed, almost smiling.
Scary bastard.
Before she could let herself get unnerved, she looked back down into the bag and studied the weapons. “How do you want to handle this? We already know what they are doing and why. So no reason to talk to them.”
“Now, Vaughnne, it almost sounds like you’re talking about just outright killing them,” he murmured.
Her gut clenched. “That’s not what I’m talking about.” Not entirely. But if she could get them off their ass without worrying about them coming after her again . . . yeah. She could go for that.
“Do we have a few minutes before they catch up to us?”
Vaughnne sighed. “Probably.” Her gut wasn’t exactly screaming at her yet. Once it was screaming at her, they’d most likely be in sight. When they were in sight, then they’d have to make a decision—
Or not, she realized as Gus shot off the expressway. She hissed out a breath at the sudden movement, the seat belt cutting into her skin. The bruises on her made a rather loud complaint, but she bit back any sound she might have been tempted to make. After all, as Gus had said, if she’d wanted to feel better, she shouldn’t have come.
“If you can feel them, can they feel you?”
She looked around at the rather isolated bit of highway he’d decided to follow. The expressway was already fading behind them. Blowing out a breath, she said, “Yeah. They’d do better if I’m not shielding. I guess you want to use me as bait, huh?”
“I just want them to follow us.” He had an odd note in his voice.
She made a face. “Sounds like bait to me.” Didn’t matter much, she supposed. She’d done it before. She could do it again. Wasn’t anything she liked, but she could handle it. Letting her shields down wasn’t much different for her than peeling off her clothing. One layer at a time. It left her feeling exposed, just as if she’d decided to strip herself naked in the middle of a public parking lot or something, too.
And as she let the last layer of shielding drop, she was painfully, almost brutally aware of that other presence, a too-hot buzz along her senses. “Yeah,” she whispered. “They can feel me, all right.”
Gus didn’t answer.
She thought about reaching into the bag and pulling out one of the weapons, but in the end, she settled on the Glock that the Bureau had assigned to her. It was hers, and she knew the feel of it, the weight of it, how it settled in her hand. She appreciated that particular weapon rather well. “You want to give me an idea just what the plan is here?” she asked as he took a sharp left off the highway.
They were barreling down a narrow little country lane now with absolutely no regard for speed limits or anything else.
“The plan? Eliminate the threat.” A ghost of a smile danced around his lips for a second. “That’s the plan.” His eyes seemed to take in everything, although she didn’t know how. They were driving so fast, she could barely take in anything beyond the scenery blurring around them.
“You got any idea where we are?”
“Somewhere in Louisiana, close to the Texas border. I’ve been here.” He was quiet for about five seconds and then said, “Hold on.”
That was about all the warning she had before he slammed on the brakes. It wasn’t enough of a warning and the seat belt cut into her skin once more. “Man, I really want to wallop you, and hard.”
“Wallop?”
She sneered at him as he turned down an even narrower road, winding, all but obscured by the undergrowth. Green surrounded them. “Yeah. Wallop. Hit you across that thick head of yours,” she snapped.
“A day or so ago, you called it beautiful.”
“You are beautiful.” She tugged against her seat belt and shifted around, staring out the window. “You know you’re beautiful and you use it. I think you should have been a damn female.”
He surprised her by laughing. “So I’m . . . what . . . using my masculine wiles too much?”
“You use them like a weapon. And again, you know it.” There wasn’t anybody back there, but unless they knew the road, she doubted they’d take it at the breakneck speed he’d just used. He took another road. “Just where in the hell are you going?”
“Hiding the car. Somebody used to live back here. He’s dead now, but we can use the place for cover.”
She thought about those words, wondered if she should try to get more information about whoever he was talking about. Then ultimately, figured it wasn’t worth it. “Why are we using the place for cover? Why hide the car?”
“Because if we’re going to deal with our tail, it’s better that they aren’t discovered right away,” he said simply. Abruptly, the trees opened up around them.
Vaughnne looked around, eyeing the ramshackle little building in front of her warily. That thing couldn’t even be called a cabin. “What in the hell is that?”
“It’s called a house. People live in them.”
“That’s not a house. It’s not much bigger than a damn closet,” she said, shaking her head.
“Well, he lived in it. He could have bought something much bigger, too, but he liked it here. Was easy for him to hide.” Gus shrugged and pulled the car around behind the house. It was big enough, barely, to conceal the car. But it wouldn’t conceal them unless they stayed inside the damn car or went inside the house. She wasn’t convinced she wanted to do that, though. It was too little. Too confined.
“Come on. We’ll go inside.”
Of course they were. She stared at the ramshackle pile of boards morosely as she jerked open the door and climbed out. The hot, muggy punch of a Louisiana summer smacked her in the face the second she did so. Ignoring it, she shut the door, still gripping her Glock with her free hand. Joining Gu
s on the step, she waited as he picked the lock. It didn’t take but a few seconds, although it was a pretty complex lock. Hell, the lock looked like it cost more than the damn house.
In under a minute, they were inside and she found herself staring at a place that was actually remarkably . . . charming, considering the outside. Other than a thick layer of dust, it was well kept, a neat little bed up against a wall, a minuscule kitchen, and a bathroom tucked up in the corner. No TV, though. Just the bed, the kitchen, the bathroom. “Wow. He was into luxury, wasn’t he?”
“He wanted to escape from life . . . wanted peace. This was what he considered peace.” Gus shrugged.
Vaughnne took another, longer look around, her gaze lingering on the bookshelves. Empty now, but they looked like they were handmade, built into every empty space available, including the areas over the door, along the windows, above the bed. A little place, easy to clean, secluded. Just her and a few books . . . well, she wouldn’t want to live like that for always, but it might not be a bad vacation, she supposed.
“Did you know him from . . .” She trailed off, uncertain how to finish that sentence.
With an odd little smile on his face, Gus glanced at her. “He was a contact. We knew each other. I wouldn’t say we were friends, but we weren’t enemies.” He shrugged as he moved over to the window, situated so he could see outside without fully exposing himself to whoever might come driving up. “I respected him, I can say that much.”
“I take it you don’t say that often.”
Silence stretched out for a long moment and then he said, “No. I don’t often say that.”
She didn’t say anything else as she crossed the narrow floor space. The skin along the back of her neck was crawling and blood roared in her ears, getting louder, louder. “They are getting closer.” She moved to stand beside him, gripping the butt of her Glock while a voice in the back of her mind started to ramble on in a panic.
What are you doing?
You can’t be doing this.
You shouldn’t be doing this.
What are you doing?
Her mouth felt dry.
It had been one thing to take action in the hospital, although she realized Gus had done most of that. There had been an active threat.
It was another thing to stand here in the shadows of what looked to be an abandoned little shack while they waited for a couple of people to drive up so Gus could . . . could what?
Her mind filled in that blank happily.
It was like shooting fish in a barrel.
And yet these fish were vicious and predatory, ready to kill to get what they wanted.
Information on Alex.
She knew what they were going to do if they didn’t get what they wanted. Or rather, what they’d try to do. But still, it was a cold, heavy weight in her gut, the knowledge that she was getting ready to cross that line.
Watch the lines you cross, Vaughnne. I understand the desire, but I can’t help if you go too far . . .
A year ago, she couldn’t have stood here. Even as nervous as she was, with all these doubts raging inside her, she knew she couldn’t have done this. But losing Daylin had done something to her. Seeing Alex . . . being near him, knowing the kind of fear he lived with.
Yeah.
A hand touched her arm.
She looked up.
Gus stared at her, his eyes cool, unreadable. “Go into the bathroom. Lock the door. I’ll handle this.”
She knew what he was doing. Giving her a way out. Shouldering the responsibility.
Part of her wanted to let him do just that. Her heart slammed hard against her ribs as she shifted her gaze back to the window. She could hear an engine now, faint, off in the distance. It wasn’t coming at them in a roar, so they must be taking their time on that narrow, uneven road.
If they were smart, they’d just park the car . . .
Abruptly, the engine went silent and she cursed and slammed up the shields in her mind. Hopefully they’d just come to the logical conclusion but just in case . . . no point in taking chances. She focused on Gus and focused her thoughts down to the narrowest stream possible, speaking only into his mind. She had trained with some of the best, and if they couldn’t pick up on her thoughts when she didn’t want them to, she should be okay. But Gus was a different matter. Don’t think anything about what you’re doing. Act and react, but don’t broadcast your thoughts. They might have a telepath with them.
She went to break the contact and then paused. Reaching out, she fisted her hand in his shirt, staring up into his eyes. I told you . . . I’m with you, got it? I’m not hiding in the bathroom like a little girl.
Gus slid a hand up her back, curving it around her neck and tugging her closer. “You keep throwing your chances away. Sooner or later, they will all be gone,” he said softly, leaning in to press his lips to hers.
She sighed as he pulled away. Just that light touch had heat spreading through her, a hot, delighted shimmer that she wanted to wrap herself in. Wrap herself in, lose herself in. Except now was so not the time, not when the alarm in her head was slowly getting louder and louder.
He glanced around and then grabbed his bag. “Come on. Let’s go outside.”
“Outside?” She eyed his back as he headed for the little door at the back.
He didn’t answer and she purposely avoided thinking about anything, staring at nothing more than his back, his hips, the long length of his legs. He moved through the door, and Vaughnne had to admit, leaving the hot, confining air of that closed-up little cabin was almost a relief.
She felt terribly exposed as she followed him out of there, although it was just her imagination. Nobody was watching them . . . yet. But they were close. So very close. Her heart raced, her breathing sped up, her muscles had that odd tense feel to them. Deliberately, she made herself relax. Rotating her neck, she eased through the tangle of trees and brush, following along behind Gus. He seemed to know exactly where he was going, she decided. And once again, she had to admire how he moved.
He moved, and he moved well.
He found an area for her, gestured to it, and she tucked herself behind it, not the least bit surprised that she had a fairly clean field of vision ahead of her, although she was mostly out of sight because of the way he’d positioned her.
She shot him a look, saw that sleepy smile on his face as he settled in his own position. It wasn’t long, though, before his face went smooth and blank. His eyes were cool, and butter wouldn’t have melted in his mouth. He waited behind a tree maybe ten feet away. He eyed the gun in her hand and shook his head as he unzipped his bag.
She closed her eyes as he took out the Heckler & Koch MP5. He checked it with quick, competent hands and loaded it in the same fashion. As he slipped the strap over one shoulder, she swallowed the knot in her throat and looked back at the house. I’m an FBI agent. Is this what I need to be doing . . .
The thought was still circling through her brain when she felt something nasty settle in her mind.
I can’t do this. I can’t. I can’t do this—
Her legs were wooden. Mechanically, she felt herself starting to rise as those thoughts tripped through her mind. I can’t do this. I can’t—
Something crunched under her foot and the sound of it penetrated her mind. Dazed, she looked around. Something edged against her thoughts. Can’t do this. Can’t . . .
“Not right,” she mumbled, reaching up to smack her hand against her temple. The butt of her weapon smacked against her head, hard, and the flash of pain cleared the fog from her head. It was enough to snap the alien hold on her mind.
Fuck—
Jerking her head up, she saw Gus, realized he was coming toward her.
Stop. I’m fine, she told him, shaking her head.
Like a scummy rope, the unseen psychic had wrapped his gift around her brain and tried to drag her places she didn’t want to go.
Bastard was a controller.
A few, a very few, had the
ability to coerce others to do things. Nalini Cole was one of them, but she actually had to be touching the person and her skills were . . . odd. This one apparently didn’t have to be touching his target.
We got problems, she said into Gus’s mind, not bothering to shield her voice. It took everything she had just to fight that pull. Sweat broke out on her skin and she dropped down on the ground, digging her hands into the damp earth, anything to ground herself as she fought that pull on her mind.
It hurt, and the harder she fought, the more it hurt.
A hand touched her arm and she looked up, saw that Gus had come to her side.
“What’s wrong?” Gus murmured, his voice calm, unaffected.
Somebody there can force people to do shit. Look for him. He’ll be focusing—She wasn’t even able to finish the thought as the strain on her brain increased. Biting down on her lip, she slammed her hands against her skull, but it didn’t even touch on the pain there. Damn it, damn it, damn it—
She slammed up her shields, the ones she’d lowered when she tried to draw them in, but it was hard, so hard to concentrate, and it felt like she was trapping him inside those shields with her. Him. That nasty, slippery presence. It was like having a giant, mutant slug trapped inside her head, in the innermost part of her.
But as she formed one set of shields, then another, and another, some of the pressure on her brain eased off. Panting, she slid Gus a look. “They ought to be close now, really close.”
He lifted a hand to his lips.
She sucked in a breath, a second one. Okay. Better now. That pressure was still there and the intensity of it increased, but instead of a rope that was trying to drag her away, it was more like a raging thunderstorm. She wasn’t inside a house—she felt like she had an umbrella over her head, though. It was enough to protect her from the impact. It worked.
She focused on Gus. Do you see them?
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