Ky (In the Company of Snipers Book 13)

by Irish Winters

  He turned to meet her gaze. Melting amber poured its golden light down on her. His bigger hand cupped hers on his arm. “Hey,” was all he said, and that was enough. He pulled her snug against his hip. A woman didn’t have to be clairvoyant to know something was bothering him.

  “You feel like talking?” Sam asked, his eyes on the meal roasting over the flame. “The guys and I have questions.”

  “Sure. What do you want to know?”

  “Why you, for starters?” he asked quietly. “What does Zaroyin really want? I get that you’re psychic, that you have abilities most of us don’t, but what’s he hope to gain by capturing you? What can you do for him?”

  She shrugged, still trying to figure that answer out herself. “I think he needs someone to control his army, someone who already has psychic skills. Think about it. Internet signals are lost all the time. Satellite signals, too. Even the best cell providers can’t reach the entire planet, but someone with psychic abilities could. That person, if they were good enough, would have a direct link to every FBI drone on the planet, and not need any infrastructure to maintain it. Zaroyin could be anywhere he wanted to if he controlled that person. He and his drones would be unstoppable.”

  “So you think you might be the key to his plan for military domination?”

  “I just know the impression I got the first time we met, Sam. He thought he was selling Matt on the premise of no more friendly fire, but my second sight kicked in. All I saw was a crazy guy intent on bringing his dream of cybernetic soldiers to reality at any cost, but he hadn’t figured out how to control them yet.”

  “Uh-huh,” Sam drawled. “Seems obvious. Straightforward. You might be right.”

  She caught his doubt. I might be right? “But...” She drew out the word so he’d spill his suspicions.

  “But what if it’s not so obvious, Eden?” Tucker asked, his eyes also on the fire. “What if he planted that idea in your head as a misdirect? What if he already has another psychic in his control, and he doesn’t need you? What if this whole mess is just him testing the capability of his drones and his psychic prototype? His protégé?”

  “His what?” Her hand went to the zippered collar under her chin. She sucked in a breath of cold air at the thought that Zaroyin might have pitted one psychic against another. “But that would mean... oh, snap. I never thought about that. You think he’s using someone else to locate me? Why? To kill me? That doesn’t make sense. I’m harmless.”

  “No, you’re not,” Ky muttered, his voice as low as Sam’s and Tucker’s had been. The steel in his arm tightened around her. “If Sam’s right, you’re in Zaroyin’s way. That might be why he’s led you up here away from the Bureau’s protection. He needs you dead. Think about it. You already got him kicked out of Quantico. Then he lost his congressional funding until Senator Bick and his rich wife showed up. Only you can reach out and stop his other psychic, if that’s what’s really going on. Only you can influence him or her to turn on Zaroyin, and, as you’ve just pointed out, you could do it without electricity, Internet, or satellite. He knows that. If he can’t have you, Zaroyin at least needs you out of his way. He wants to make sure no one else has you, either.”

  Her throat closed at Ky’s very logical argument. Oh shit. I have to die.

  Ky’s arm squeezed as if he’d just read her mind.

  “But why kill Charlie? That makes no sense.” A tear eked out of her eye. She brushed it away before anyone noticed it. It wasn’t so much for Charlie as for Ky. Now she knew why he’d seemed withdrawn. These guys had been doing a lot of talking and if they had, Tucker and Sam had no doubt warned him to stay clear of her.

  She turned to look closely at Ky, saddened he could be so easily bullied. ‘What?’ he mouthed as he smoothed a big palm over her well-padded hip. That simple gesture of obvious male dominance helped, but she could see it in his eyes. Something was definitely bothering him.

  “Sure it makes sense, darlin’,” Tucker added gently. “Look around. Zaroyin’s running the ugliest black op we’ve ever been up against. Do you see anyone providing triage or medical care to these drones once they’re hit? No, and do you know why? Those poor guys have no backup and no logistics tail. They’ve got no support and no supply line. Zaroyin doesn’t care if they live or die. He has no use for his own men once they fail or fall, and because he doesn’t, this idea will never fly. No one on the Hill will ever fund throwaway soldiers. The decent people in America won’t stand for it, which is why he turned to Senator Ruston Bick. Zaroyin doesn’t need appropriated funding now that he’s got his hands on Bick’s blood diamond money.”

  “Senator Bick?” Her head pivoted to Ky. “Wasn’t he your dumbass in Morocco?”

  Ky’s brows arched. “How’d you know?”

  “Because you and I are linked. Mentally.” She tapped her forehead. “The second you said Morocco I knew he was the man you’d saved. His wife’s an actress.” And if these two megalomaniacs are behind this madness, hanging around me is going to get you killed.

  Ky’s eyes narrowed. “Knock it off, Eden. I’m not leaving you, so shut it.”

  “Excuse me?” He’d done it again—read her mind. Ky was getting good at that. “But I—”

  “Shut. Up.” He slapped her hip with his open palm. “Don’t give me any of your noble bullshit about protecting me. Like it or not, you and I are joined at the hip. You’re not leaving me, and no, being with you doesn’t make me a target.”

  A chuckle lifted up her throat. He was reading her mind! “Sheesh. Would you let me speak?”

  Another playful slap landed on her hip and stayed there. “I’m right, though, aren’t I?”

  “Yes, but, it’s really aggravating when you tell me what I’m going to say before I say it,” she shot back at him, not so much annoyed as needing to set boundaries. “You need to rein that mental reach of yours in. I don’t like having other people in my head.” So this is how my father felt. How annoying.

  “Wait a minute. You two can read each other’s minds?” Tucker asked. “For real?”

  “Yes,” she admitted excitedly at the same time as Ky grumbled, “Hell, no. It’s easy to read Eden. Her emotions are written all over her face.”

  “They are not.” She wiped a gloved hand over said face. “Even if they are, explain how you knew I was going to trip over that tree stump before?”

  Ky tapped the goggles hanging around his neck. “Easy. TEAMshield warned me. I saw it coming. You didn’t. Problem solved. I’m no psychic, Eden. I’m just a regular guy.”

  She squinted at his logical explanation. It covered everything. Almost. Everything except how he’d reached out to her from Afghanistan years ago. That had nothing to do with high-tech goggles or her emotions. That was all on him. So was his mind reading. “Okay, but if you’re anywhere near me, you’re still going to be a target.”

  “And if you’re on your own, you’re dead. Cut the crap, Eden. It’s my job. I’m here. I stay.”

  “And I stay,” Tucker growled.

  “I’m in,” Sam muttered.

  When Tate added his version of loyalty with his customary grunt, her heart flooded with warmth. “So what do we do now, Tucker? Run for our lives like we have been?”

  “That may be difficult with this storm front hovering over us,” he replied. “Hey. You burned that moose enough yet, Higgins?”

  Tate pointed wordlessly at the spit. Enough said. Well, unsaid.

  Tucker lanced the roast with his SEAL knife and jerked it off the spit. He dropped the steaming slab onto a nearby tin plate. The man was always prepared. And hungry. He doused the meat with a bag of seasonings he’d pulled out of his pocket, and, with three deft cuts, the moose buffet was parceled out into five thick, steaming slices. Dinner was served.

  Ky handed Eden a paper plate for her portion, along with a plastic knife and a fork. The others went primitive. No one spoke. Eden wiped the juices dripping off her chin. The tender meat disappeared amongst a few moans and a lot of lip sma
cking. Sam wiped his moustache. Tucker burped like a water buffalo.

  Eden noticed the pine lean-to against the vertical wall of the granite mountain opposite the tent. It was well-camouflaged with all the snow. “Who made that?”

  Tucker stabbed his knife at Tate. “Sam and I started one, but he showed up and made it stronger. Now it’s waterproof. We ought to be comfortable.”

  “Said he took care of the drone bodies,” Sam muttered, the last of his portion of moose meat at the tip of his knife. He snapped it down with relish, still chewing. “The man’s a damned workhorse. He should’ve joined the Bureau or the Secret Service. We could use a guy like—”

  “Never,” Tate growled. The mood around the campfire fizzled.

  “Oh, come on, Higgins. Give us brothers-in-arms a chance. We’re not that bad,” Sam persisted, pointing his knife at Tate. “Come on over from the dark side and—”

  Tate pushed up from the ground. “Don’t wait up,” he grumbled at Ky as he walked into the dark.

  Sam’s bushy brows lifted in surprise. “Was it something I said?”

  Ky exhaled though his nostrils. “Leave it alone, Becker.”

  Eden followed his cue, but immediately sicced her second sight on the odd man out, hoping it worked, for a change. She wasn’t sure why, but if anyone needed saving, it was Tate.

  She stood to follow, but Ky waved her off with a curt, “All of you. Leave him the hell alone.”

  Chapter Eighteen

  Ky lifted to his feet the second Tate stepped away. The quiet man could only take so much stupid banter before he’d had his fill and needed breathing space. Even in the office, Tate struggled with the nuisance of camaraderie. The man just plain didn’t like people. Ky got that. Most days he could do without folks, too, but he also recognized that Tate was lonely. Maybe the loneliest agent on The TEAM.

  TEAMshield employed simple walkie-talkie technology without having to engage with Alexandria. Good thing, too. Ky activated them and asked, “You with me, buddy?”

  Tate’s signature grunt sounded deep inside his ear.

  “Copy that,” Ky replied. He didn’t offer platitudes or hints, didn’t suggest Tate stay close to camp or watch his back, either. No sense in it. No black operator appreciated being told what he already knew. Tate just needed space and time to himself. He’d be back when he was ready.

  Ky got Tate like no one else did. Lee came close to understanding him, but for whatever reason, Tate had never connected with Lee like he did Ky. Ky didn’t know what the big guy’s story was, and he’d never asked. Still wouldn’t. The day Tate came to grips with his demons was strictly his business. Until then, Ky contented himself to be like Eden—maybe not as pretty, but an angel in the shadows nonetheless.

  After the heated exchange with Chase, Ky wasn’t certain where he stood with her. Reasonable second thoughts dug into his hard head. Chase had been right. Ky was damaged goods, damn it. Things between them had gotten carried away. She deserved better, there was no doubt about that, but the notion of her being with another man pitched acid up his throat. He’d never wanted to stake his claim on a woman like he did Eden, but did he have a right to drag her into his nightmares? His torments?

  Damned if TEAMshield didn’t beep an incoming-call warning. “What the hell’s going on that you can’t keep me better informed?” Alex hissed without preamble.

  Shit. Just what Ky needed, a butt-chewing from a guy sitting in his air-conditioned office in comfy, far-off Virginia. “A blizzard for one, Boss. Performing minor surgery on Eden Stark, for another,” Ky replied evenly, picturing his hard-driving boss at his desk, coffee in one hand, piss and vinegar in the other. Alex wasn’t mad, just impatient and no doubt hyped-up on caffeine.

  “Surgery?”

  “Two, actually.” Ky explained about the implants and wires, the six drones, and Becker and Chase’s arrival.

  The blatant hostility pinging all the way from sunny Virginia was hard to miss. “Why’s Becker there?”

  “He and Chase are hell-bent on getting Agent Stark home safe.”

  “That’s your job. Tell those guys to take off. You don’t need them.”

  “It’s not that easy, Boss. They took out six of their own men to protect Eden, and Sam’s sure more of Zaroyin’s drones are on the way. I’d like him and Chase to hang around until this thing’s over.”

  Alex growled, a sure sign he considered Ky’s opinion, but reluctantly. Otherwise, he’d have sworn a blue streak Becker and Chase could’ve heard from their seats by the fire. “When?”

  Ky rolled his eyes at Alex’s curt question. When what? He didn’t have ESP. He forged ahead with what he thought Alex needed to know. “As soon as I have an ETD out of here, I’ll let you know.”

  “Is it still snowing?”

  Ky scanned his goggles over the camp to give Alex a glimpse. “That would be a roger. It’s primitive here, but we’ll be warm enough. What’s the weatherman say?”

  “You might be snowed in for days. The jet stream dipped into the lower forty-eight. You guys okay?”

  “As far as food and water, yeah. Zaroyin’s our real problem. The drones he’s sent after us are relentless. He runs them until they drop dead or until we have to kill them.”

  “Bastard,” Alex hissed. “Mother can’t locate him. I’ll send Maverick and Gabe to assist; Harley and Adam, too. They can standby in Thunder Bay until the storm blows over.”

  “If they can get into Thunder Bay.”

  “Damn.”

  My sentiments precisely. For now, Mother Nature had the final say, not his boss nor Zaroyin. “Don’t worry about us. We’ll be back in the States before you know it.”

  “Keep your head up. One way or the other, Harley and the guys will be there. How is she?”

  Ky looked to Eden at that unexpected question. “She’s good,” he replied in as monotone a voice as he could muster.

  “You okay?” Alex asked. Could he read minds, too?

  “Tate and I are good. Thanks, Boss.”

  The line disconnected. Ky placed a quick call to the RCMP pilot and requested immediate evacuation. The prognosis was grim. He couldn’t fly in the current conditions. Hang tight. We’ll be there when we can. In the meantime, don’t take chances. Avoid undue exposure. Keep warm and hydrated. Shit. We’re on our own.

  Ky ended the call, but delayed activating his goggles. He silenced his earpiece, too. Alex didn’t need to see or hear what happened next.

  Chase had gotten extra-animated, leaning toward Eden as if he couldn’t quite hear the story tripping off her tongue, and Ky knew the feeling. Eden’s voice was soft and musical, something extra sweet that a man craved. It made him sit up and listen. But when Chase raised his face to the sky and belted out a raucous laugh, Ky’d had enough. Whatever enchanting story Eden had just shared with her FBI buddy stung Ky to the bone. He curled his fingers into fists, tired of his demons and just as tired of Tucker-Damned-Chase. Things had to change.

  “Hey, Eden. Can we talk?” Ky waved her over to him.

  Curious greens speared him from across the camp and Chase’s side, but she shook her head. Damned if her hood didn’t slip when she’d turned. She wasn’t wearing her cap, so her blond spirals cascaded in a silky cape over her shoulders while other tangles pooled in the cup of her hood. She looked like a fairy princess sitting too close to a lecherous dragon. “I’m busy. Can it wait?”

  What he deserved but not quite what he’d expected. “Not really,” Ky offered through dry lips that might be lying.

  When she turned back around and said something to Chase, Ky’s blood boiled that she’d ignore him. He hadn’t played this smart, and he wouldn’t blame Eden for blowing him off. He deserved that for giving her the cold shoulder before, but things between them had happened awfully fast. He didn’t want to pressure her any more than he already had.

  Chase took her plate, a better response than laughing, but he still bugged Ky. Eden lifted to her feet, her chin clenched and one brow raised a
s she approached. “What?”

  Ky swallowed hard, on the verge of saying something from which there would be no return. He wanted to reel her into his arms, needing her with him. Against him. Wanting desperately to be inside of her. The aromatic scent of eucalyptus drifted across the distance between them, luring him to her like a fish on a lovely hook. So why was he fighting his feelings?

  He knew why.

  “Sam thinks that might be a hormone patch on your leg. Tell me if you start feeling different now that it’s gone. Maybe better. Happy. Sad. Anything.” It was a lame beginning at best, and he knew it. His gut lurched halfway up his throat.

  “Is that all?” she asked, a tease in her voice while she tucked handfuls of her silky hair away from her face and under her hood again.

  “Yes,” he said while he shook his head. “I mean... no. That’s not all.”

  Her big green eyes widened. “Are you ditching me, Ky Winchester?”

  She’d used his words. And there it was. He should say yes. He should be smart and let her live a better life than one with the likes of him, but... he couldn’t bear the thought of letting her out of his sight. He knew what pain was, and losing her would kill him.

  “No, Eden,” rolled off his tongue while “never” lifted out of his heart. He swallowed hard. “I just want you to be sure.”

  She cocked her pretty head. “About what? Coffee?”

  His heart climbed up the back of his throat and took up residence at the ledge of his stomach. “No,” he croaked. “I meant about having coffee with me. There’s something you need to know. I’m not...” How did a man explain that a sadist had carved on his privates? That he wasn’t easy to look at, that he wasn’t the whole man she needed? That he might not be able to give her babies? He swallowed hard and tried again. “Eden—”

  She closed the distance between them and took hold of his shoulders, the swell of her luscious breasts pressed to his chest. There. In front of Becker and Chase.