Code Name: Kayla's Fire (A Warrior's Challenge)

by Natasza Waters

  She glanced out the large floor-to-ceiling window that framed Burton. From the fifteenth floor of the building, he had a great view of the city and the sea. She wondered whether he had moved into it recently. A perk for breaking the Shark story. “This is a wonderful office, Mr. Burton. Great view. Quiet. You no longer have to share the noise level out among the other reporters.” She nodded with slow appreciation.

  The smile disappeared completely from Burton’s face, which told her he had something to be worried about.

  “Your point?”

  Greg leaned forward. “Ms. Banks’ point is simple, Mr. Burton. If the police find out that you had any knowledge that would have resolved this case before so many women were brutally murdered, your career is over. Slaughtered like the women the Shark has left, and just as dead.” Greg had rattled him. “Why did you name him the Blood Shark?”

  “Before I divulge that, maybe you would consider sharing your information. Are you being stalked, Ms. Banks?” The barely concealed excitement in Burton’s eyes was nauseating.

  “Yes,” she said abruptly.

  “What has he done?”

  She craned her neck to look at Greg. They passed a look between them. Time to leave. From this point forward, it would be like a dog chasing its tail. She had what she needed, and she doubted Burton would give up any more, because it would mean complicity in the murders.

  “Thanks for your time, Mr. Burton.” Greg stood, and placed a hand on the small of her back.

  “Wait a minute. You said you had something to share. You haven’t told me anything.”

  “No, but you’ve told us what we wanted to know.”

  Burton practically vaulted from his chair. “I have not had any contact with the Shark.” She and Greg sidestepped the chairs. Burton’s expensive suit jacket rumpled when he shoved his hands in his pockets. They continued toward the door. “I saw him.”

  They both stopped, but didn’t turn.

  “From afar. I’d been on the base for a late interview. God!” Burton ran both hands through his hair. “He’d already killed her, and he had a jar with him, and some kind of syringe. It was fucking awful. He must have been finished, because he twisted a cap on the container, and then leaned over and kissed her on the forehead. Sick fucker. I ran to find the first security guard I could, but the Shark and the victim were gone when we returned. There wasn’t a sign of the murder. Maybe he used plastic. It was dark, I don’t know. I learned a while later the women were practically sucked dry of blood.”

  “A description.” Greg said, turning his immense frame toward Burton.

  “It was around eleven at night. I couldn’t make out a lot. Middle-aged, male, short hair, probably dark. Good shape, maybe a little over six foot. I told the police all of this.”

  “We’ll check with Manchester. If you’re not telling us the truth, you can expect another visit from the police,” she said, giving Greg a small nudge.

  “Did you watch him walk away?” Greg asked.

  Burton chewed on the inside of his mouth. “He took a few steps, yes.”

  Greg’s wheels were turning, but she wasn’t sure where he was going with this. “Would you recognize his stride?”

  “Doubt it,” Burton answered and swallowed. “I want him caught just as much as everyone else.”

  Greg looked doubtful. “NAB Coronado is a naval base. Why are you assuming he’s a SEAL?”

  “Because of this.” Burton yanked his drawer open, and plucked a photo from it, enlarged to an eight and a half, by eleven, and tossed it on the desk. “I stayed and answered questions that night while the police investigated the scene.”

  She and Greg took the few steps to his desk. Greg picked it up, and she tilted her head to look. “This was left at the scene?” she asked, looking down at the picture, a little blurry and obviously taken on the sly by Burton. “That’s a KA-Bar knife.”

  “I can’t read the name inscribed on it, but I’m sure the police have already investigated this.”

  “I’m sure they have and dismissed it. It’s a good red herring,” she said. “Do you honestly think he’d leave his weapon behind?”

  “Maybe it slipped out. Killers make mistakes, that’s how they’re caught.”

  She didn’t know what to think, but her gut told her that no SEAL did this. The knife was left on purpose. She raised her eyes. “Do you think he knew you were there?”

  Burton’s eyes widened a little, and he adjusted his shoulders. “No.”

  “You’re lying,” she blurted. “He knew you were there, and he used you to lead the police in the wrong direction. You’re perpetuating a lie, and accusing the wrong group, Mr. Burton.”

  Burton sighed, and took the picture from Greg. “Why do you think he wants you?”

  “I’m in his crosshairs. I fit the profile, as you’ve pointed out.”

  “He’s been in contact with you, like the others, you received something from him.”

  She nodded. “If you know anything else, you need to think about the women, and not your career.”

  Greg didn’t speak until they were clear of the building. “Still not sharing all of it,” he noted.

  “Agreed, but it’s a dead end. He won’t share any more.”

  “Dinner?”

  “No, take me back to the base.” She had something more important to deal with, glancing at her phone. A text from Nina. One from Barry, but nothing from Thane. “Un moment, Greg.” She steered away from the car, and sat down on a bench scanning her phone list. Cobbs picked up on the second ring.

  “Hello.”

  “Lieutenant Cobbs?”

  The line was silent for longer than it should have been. “Snow White, leave him alone. He just has to lick his wounds.”

  “Why isn’t he answering my calls? Why isn’t he at work?” She heard footsteps, and a door click shut.

  “Seriously?” he said gruffly.

  She blinked at that. “Yes, seriously. Is he sick? What’s going on?”

  Cobbs cleared his throat. “You did what no other woman has accomplished. You broke the man’s heart.”

  She sat up straight. “I did what? Is this about what Greg told him the other night in the bathroom? I talked to him after that. I told him I wasn’t giving up on finding the Shark. How does that translate into breaking his heart?”

  “Kayla, Greg told Thane he’d asked you to marry him.”

  “I know that, but so what?”

  “He said you were considering it. Thane thinks he’s lost you. He won’t talk with anyone. I tried seeing him a couple hours ago. He’s a fucking wreck, and I’d leave him that way until he works it out for himself.”

  “I said I was considering going home, after the Shark is caught. I never said anything about marrying the man.” She bit her lip as her heart churned madly. “I have to talk to him.”

  “I wouldn’t do that today.”

  “Why?”

  “He doesn’t drink much, but he can be a bitter asshole when he does.”

  “I’ve gotta go. Thanks, Lieutenant.”

  “Snow White.” She waited to let him finish. “If you love the man, you need to tell him. He’s my best friend, and he’d shit all over me if he ever found out I shared this with you, but he needs you. More than he’ll ever probably tell you. You’ve had him running stupid for months. I know he can be a stubborn, overbearing shithead, but he loves you to the core. He’ll never betray you.”

  A blanket of warmth eased her fears and she nodded. “Thanks Lieutenant,” she whispered and ended the call. She closed her eyes, and tried to concentrate on the wind, but she couldn’t feel it. They were both stubborn shitheads, but she’d been worse than him. All the things that scared her had rallied like an impenetrable wall, and stopped her from telling Thane what she felt.

  She took a deep breath. It was time for her to be brave.

  Chapter Eleven

  She knocked on Thane’s front door. No answer. She peeked in the side window. The burnt orange of th
e evening sun shone into a silent house, and brightened the walnut floors. Saying she was nervous would be an understatement, but she was prepared with the best weapon she could rally, the truth.

  Skirting the garage, she turned the corner, stopping in her tracks. Thane lay back in a lounge chair, his arm draped over the side, a liquor bottle loosely gripped in his fingers as he stared up at the heavens. Her heart raced seeing his bare chest, tanned to a golden brown. If a man’s physical perfection was based on the way his body rolled in its own power, narrowing at the waist into comfortable worn jeans, and bare feet resting on the wood planks of his deck, Thane was perfection.

  “Go home, Kayla,” he said without looking up.

  “Captain—”

  “Go home,” he growled, but kept his eyes heavenward.

  Scared, but unable to turn back, she knew when an alpha male got too friendly with a bottle the mission usually ended in violence. She stepped across the garden between the aloe plants. A beautiful white flower poked from the core of one of them. “Thane.”

  “It’s Captain to you. I’m your senior officer,” he slurred, and his head swayed as he pulled the bottle in front of his face, shook it a little, and seeing it was empty, flicked his wrist and sent it flying off the deck. It landed with a crack next to three other empty bottles of whiskey. “That’s all.”

  “Yes, sir.” Keeping a steady hand on her nerves, she approached him. “You’ve been missing in action, sir.” A few more steps brought her to the deck.

  His eyes focused on her. “If you’re dropping off a wedding invitation, you can save the paper. I’ll be out of country. Won’t be able to make it.”

  “Sir, would you mind if I sat?” she asked, nodding toward the other chair beside him.

  He thrust himself forward, and slapped the arms of his lounger. A piece of plastic broke off, hit the deck, and skittered off into the grass. “Nope, but you can’t have this one.” His hands slid down the cushion between his legs. “This one’s mine. It’s where I fucked you for the first time.” A flash of anger, and then uncertainty played across his eyes, and he swallowed deeply.

  She tentatively stepped up onto the landing. Thane’s topaz eyes were rimmed and red, from either alcohol or tears, maybe both. “I remember,” she said quietly. “I also remember you telling me over and over again, we made love, we didn’t—Why are you acting like this?”

  He swayed and flopped back, his eyes sliding up and down her body. He shook his head slowly. “Like what, Snow White? Can’t a guy let loose once in a while? Christ, I deserve it, don’t I? I’ve had to put up with you,” he said with a jerk of his head.

  “I suppose.”

  A drunken grin crossed his lips. “You suppose?” His brows rose at different times. “Jesus, woman, you’re a fucking nutcase, and I’ve been just as screwed up trying to protect you from the Shark and from yourself, and from me.” He cocked his head. “But I failed, never completed the mission.”

  Her heart did a HALO jump, but didn’t deploy and crashed into the pit of her stomach. Tears pressed at her eyes, but she held them back. She was a fucking nutcase, and she wouldn’t blame him for saying the truth. Alcohol loosened the lips, yet instead of leaving, she was going to stay and hear what his inebriated thoughts wouldn’t hold back. “I can’t argue with that, Captain.”

  His jaw tightened into hard, angry corners as he surveyed her. “They should use you as a weapon, sweetheart. You can take a man and destroy him just by existing.” He blew out his breath, and then cocked his head. “I’m not surprised your first husband went insane with possessiveness. You’ve managed to dangle a man like Lapierre from your fingers for twenty years. Impressive.” He thrust himself to his feet. “I need a drink.”

  Thane staggered through the patio doors, then reappeared with a new bottle and two glasses, slamming them down on the small table between them. “Let’s have a drink, Lieutenant Banks. You’ve earned it,” he said, dropping unsteadily to his chair. He chuckled as he poured the amber liquid into thick glasses, picking one up, and offering it to her. “You served your country. You served my country, and you serviced me.” He sloppily scooped his up, presenting it for a toast. “Best fucking sex I’ve ever had, and I’ve had a hell of a lot.”

  She took the glass, and stared into the eyes of the man she respected, and whose concern for her was quickly morphing into hate. Someone famous once said, it was a very thin line, and Thane was crossing it, and he’d blow the bridge up behind him. Without a single doubt, if he hurt her, she’d take every lash, and demand more, if it would ease his pain. She swallowed deeply, and tipped her glass to his. His hand clamped around her wrist. She didn’t move, soaking in the emotions ripping through his eyes, and the crushing hold he had on her. Resisting the urge to flinch, she held her breath.

  “Why?” he said, his jaw tightening even more. “Why?” Her hand shook, and his gaze dropped to their joining, loosening his grip. “Lapierre can have any woman he wants, but he had to pick you, didn’t he? Why aren’t you gone, vanished into the mystical archipelago of spiraling cedars and the great West Coast.” Thane dropped his glass with a thud, the liquid slopping over the rim.

  “You’re no different than him,” she said quietly.

  “You were supposed to love me.” His eyes closed, and he kept them closed for a long minute. When he opened them, tears magnified the brilliant blue.

  With all her might, she steadied her will. The resistance flowed like acid in her chest. “You told me not to, Captain.”

  Thane blinked, and shook his head. He snatched his glass up, swallowing the whiskey in one gulp, and slamming the glass on the table. “Guess I did, and like a good little warrior, you obeyed.” He laughed, but it sounded caustic as hell. “I need good men like you on my team. You resist pain. You follow protocol. You’ve got balls of steel. Couldn’t ask for a more solid recruit.” He glared at her. “Yet, I’ve never been let down so badly. That’s what happens when you put all your hope into one person, isn’t it, Kayla? That’s what happens when anyone puts their hope in you.”

  She placed the glass down on the table. “Yes, sir.”

  “God, you are just so unbreakable, aren’t you? Nothing will ever penetrate the shield you raised to protect yourself.” He swayed a little, and clutched the arm of the lounger. “I can break any man, but you won’t give a fucking inch. A fight to the finish, to the death, that’s what you want, isn’t it? You’re just going to give your life away, either to the Shark or Lapierre.” With one smooth swing, he lay back in the lounger, and swept his gaze across the sky. “Why are you here, Kayla?”

  Biting her bottom lip, unsure if he’d remember or even care what she said, she needed to try. This powerful man had protected her. He’d wormed his way into her heart, breaking down the walls she’d carefully erected over the last ten years. “Sir, I—”

  “Stop calling me, sir, for fuck’s sake. I think we’re a little past that, don’t you?”

  “Captain—”

  “I hate that too, and you know it, but you do it to throw up barricades between us. Listen…” He swiped at his jaw roughly. “I think you should get that beautiful ass up outta my chair and outta my life. Let Lapierre take you home. Forget about this place.” He choked on his words, and his eyes squinted. “Move on to your happily ever after, Kayla. You’ll never find it with me.”

  She couldn’t stand it anymore, and leaped across the small space straddling his hips. “Stop it. You are such a stupid man,” she yelled at him. Grasping his bare shoulders with shaking fingers, she squeezed. He didn’t touch her, but his eyes delivered a deathblow.

  “Yes, I am. Stupid to think I could have you. Insane enough to believe that you were the one woman I could care about, could trust. I am never going to be what you need. I’m a warrior first, combat always, and there’s no way to separate the man anymore. I tried. I tried for you.”

  “Captain?” A silky voice called from behind them.

  Kayla’s insides froze with a layer of i
ce coating her heart, and then it shattered.

  “You called and said you wanted to see me,” Carrie, their admin assistant said.

  The sexual confidence rang like a death toll in her soul. She clamped her eyes tightly closed to stop the swarm of pain from showing itself. Knowing full well why Thane called Miss Sweater-too-tight made her bundle up acceptance, rejection and loss into a tight ball. She began to pull away, but Thane’s hand gripped her.

  His jaw hardened to the point his bones jutted in brittle angles. “Kayla, you wanted this. Not me,” he whispered.

  A tremble turned into a full-on quake in her limbs. They gazed at each other, and he became blurry as the tears gathered. “I came to tell you—Greg lied to you. I never said I would marry him.” Her lips quivered. Choking back a sob, she tore herself from his grasp, and left him with Carrie.

  * * * *

  She crashed through Mace’s front door, and headed straight for her bedroom.

  “Kayla, what the hell’s wrong? Where the hell have you been?” Mace said, lying down beside her on the bed, placing a warm palm on her back.

  She couldn’t talk, she could only sob into the sheets. The grief burned her to ash. There was no one else to blame but herself. She saw Thane and Carrie clearly in her mind. He was probably already deep inside her. A familiar darkness descended, and she didn’t fight it.

  The smell in the room changed, instead of aftershave and a sea breeze, the scent of pine made her look up to see Daniel. She balanced a Christmas decoration with intricate snowflakes embossed on its face, in her palm.

  “Who’s this from?” Daniel asked, opening a card he plucked from the mantel. He read it quickly, and his gaze shot to her. “Greg. How—sentimental.” With a flick of his wrist, it landed in the fireplace. The flames, sensing food, curled around the logs, and licked at the edges. She watched as the cardboard curled into itself with no defense against its aggressor, and her heart did the same.

  “He called and said he’d be here in an hour, the turkey’s almost done,” she said calmly, hanging the last decoration on the tree. Daniel’s body was like a weapon. The danger wasn’t in his strength, but in his anger. Silky black hair hung across his brow, accentuating light green eyes, accusing her of things that weren’t true.