Panic screwed with Kaimi’s logic. Was it possible Fion had called in a US helicopter for backup? Damp from the forest floor seeped into her clothing and mingled with the sweat coating her body. Stupid. That wasn’t remotely possible.
The chopper hovered over the clearing, a drop line appeared, and before the immediate danger registered in Kaimi’s mind, a heavily armed man in jungle camouflage had jogged across the clearing and disappeared into the perimeter tree line just across from her.
The helicopter was but a faint rumble in the distance.
She drew in a long breath, held it, and then checked the immediate area for unsavory insects and potentially lethal predators. All clear. The Busse Boss Jack palmed in her right hand, Kaimi set her ear to the ground, called on her Huna training, and tuned in to the sounds of the rainforest.
Was he after her? Heading her way? He’d obviously been trained in stealth ops, and could be in the rainforest for any number of reasons. Right, Kaimi. Just like you’re on holiday.
Her neck prickled.
And he dropped from a tree in front of her, landed with a bare rustle of leaves, and grinned. “Fred sent me. Ready to stage your death?”
CHAPTER NINETEEN
TWENTY-FOUR HOURS, A SEVERE CASE of claustrophobia, and a raging headache later, Jayme opened his hotel room door to Kaimi and a man he didn’t recognize.
Kaimi scooted inside, dropped her backpack on the floor, and then leapt into Jayme’s arms. “Hi, honey. I’m ho-o-o-ome.”
He held her close, and a pulse beat so strong in his throat he couldn’t grab a breath. Damn, there was nothing like the high he got from crushing her warmth against his body. His mouth found hers with a series of fast, potent kisses that had heat flooding his groin. Down, boy. Somebody’s watching.
Kaimi’s sigh whispered through his sensual fog. She was safe. He set her away to look into those deep blue eyes, to run his fingers over the flush highlighting her cheeks, to fall in love all over again with every one of those damn freckles.
“Ahem.” The nondescript man cleared his throat with pronounced impatience. “We need to get to work, so please take a seat.”
KAIMI’S BREATH CAME IN SHALLOW pants. Jayme was here. Alive. He was so responsive to her touch, so full of energy and life. She soaked him in, her mate, the man who accepted her and all her quirks. The man she loved with every screwy DNA particle that made her…Kaimi.
The man tapped her on the shoulder. “Now, please. We’re on a tight schedule here.”
Kaimi slid her hand down Jayme’s arm, and then threaded her fingers with his. “I love you, Jayme. Let’s get this done.”
He ran the pad of his thumb over hers. “Love you, too. What are we getting done?” He turned to face the man hovering next to them. “And who are you?”
Kaimi nudged Jayme in the ribs with a discreet elbow jab. “Fred sent him. He’s here to help us,” she whispered, leading him to the sofa.
The man sat across from them, blending into the formal, stiff-backed chair like he’d been born to elegance. He opened his briefcase, selected a folder, and placed it on the black lacquer coffee table. “You are being shifted to, for lack of a more appropriate term, a witness protection program.” He selected two bundles of paper from the folder, and then placed one in front of each of them. “Read through the description of your new identities. Your final destination will remain classified until you’ve been handed over to a second team of relocation experts.”
Laughter gurgled in Kaimi’s chest. Or was that odd sensation a horrified scream? “Margaret Bowers? You can’t possibly be serious.”
Jayme pointed to the name at the top of his documents. “Looks like I’m Evan Bowers. Guess that means we’ll be getting married in the next few hours.”
Kaimi thumbed through the rest of the papers in her hand, skimming the contents, and then she stacked the pages on the coffee table and straightened the edges. “No.”
The man’s jaw dropped. He might have sputtered. Kaimi wasn’t quite sure, but his eyes were definitely buggy. “This is not a negotiable situation, Ms. Bowers.”
Jayme sat back, pressed his fist against his mouth to stop his laughter, and met Kaimi’s determined gaze with a slight nod.
“The only thing you got right in this documentation is the wedding.” She tapped the stack of papers. “Except that it will take place in Hawaii, and my father will perform the ceremony.”
She rested her hand on Jayme’s knee, and caught a glimpse of the pride and laughter in his eyes. “What would you like our surname to be?” she asked.
He cleared his throat. “I have no problem with Evan as a middle name. I’ve never had one, and that was my maternal great grandfather’s name, so it’s fitting. My first name will be James, surname Gray.”
The man opened his mouth, but Jayme stopped his words with an upraised hand. “I know my brother well. He isn’t going to stop searching for us, no matter how well you bury our identities. He’s a sick bastard, but damn smart, and he’ll be looking for common names.” He winked at Kaimi. “Like Margaret, for example. He won’t investigate anything similar to what was on our birth certificates. James is my father’s name. He left me with a lot of good memories before he slipped into his own world, and hell, why not carry on his name? Since both my parents suffer from advanced dementia, but do remember they have sons, I choose not to dishonor them by making a radical change to my surname. The confusion would tip the scale into insanity for them. Gray is a single letter alteration, but adequately transforms the name for cursory database searches. And quite honestly, that’s the best you can hope for. Eamon and Fion Connor won’t stop attempting to locate us. Kaimi has something they want very badly, and both of them have been trained by top intelligence agencies. Our best bet is to hide in plain sight. “
“This is simply preposterous.” The man’s face had turned an unsightly shade of puce.
Peace washed through Kaimi. Jayme got it—completely understood every one of the issues facing them. “I will be Loyria Gray. Kaimi means seeker in Hawaiian and will always be a part of me, but it’s too unusual for me to use. One of my maternal grandmothers from eons ago, a missionary, I think, was named Loyria, and being her namesake will maintain balance in the family tradition. Names are very important in Hawaiian culture, and like Jayme…James, I want to have a name that links to my family. Especially since we’ll be living near them.”
The puce coloring the man’s face took on a green hue. “Your destination is unknown at this point.” He waved his hand over the papers. “The process of relocating you is going to be a cut out. I know your new names, but that’s all I’ll ever know. Someone else will transfer you to the airport, or train, or provide a vehicle for you. And yet someone else will inform you of your new address. Only Fred will be privy to your complete history.”
Kaimi…Loyria nodded. “I plan to continue my work, and I have no doubt Fred will stay in close contact with me. However, he won’t know where I am. And it really doesn’t matter if you know or not, because where we’re going no one will find us.”
James nudged her. “You planning to share that info with me?”
“I made airline reservations when they gave me a bathroom break.” Loyria stood, gathered every ounce of feminine power she had, and strode to the door, opened it. “Thanks for dropping me off. You best get moving and inform Fred about the new plans. He’ll need time to adjust.”
The man rose, stuffed the papers into his briefcase, and marched to the door. “You’ll be hearing from someone shortly.”
“I don’t doubt that.” She closed the door and flipped the lock.
Before Loyria could step back into the room, James was behind her, cradling her to his body. “You are amazing, woman.”
She leaned her head back, resting it on his shoulder. “It’s my fault we’re in this mess. If you want to back out—”
James spun her in his arms, tipped her chin up with his index finger. “There is no fault. I love you, and plan to spen
d the rest of my life riding shotgun while you continue your work. God knows it’ll be a full time job.”
The pent-up tension from the past two days drained from Loyria. “Yeah. I get that. We’re going to Hawaii. I’m taking you home to my parents, where they can train you in the Huna tradition. I spoke with them when I made our flight reservations, used their credit card, and we’re traveling under their names. Well, their fake names. My parents have never been on anyone’s grid.” She stepped back and touched his cheek, wanting to feel the strength there, and see the love in his eyes. “I hope our child looks like you.”
Bright spots of color highlighted James’s face. “You’re sure? About the baby?”
“Oh, yes. I knew the moment we conceived. In Huna we’re attuned to our bodies, and my mother is gifted with sight. She’s quite excited about her granddaughter.”
James palmed Loyria’s abdomen. “I don’t know a damn thing about girls.”
“Don’t worry. She’ll teach you.” Loyria bent, snagged her backpack, and shouldered it. “Do you have a bag?”
“Yeah, but I don’t want to bring it. Fred met me at the airport, dropped me here. He could have tagged it with—what was that stuff you were working on before the shit hit the fan, spy dust?”
“Good point. I’ve only been in contact with the team who airlifted me out of the rainforest, and the guy who brought me here. They could have tagged me with something as well, but Fred will track us to Hawaii before the plane lands. I’ll stash my bag in the trash there. Give him something to keep him busy and off our trail for awhile.”
Unease prickled under Loyria’s skin. “We have to leave. I cut the times really close, but whoever that lackey was is probably on the phone to Fred right now. It’ll take my ever-efficient handler a few minutes to regroup, longer I hope, but our flight leaves in ninety minutes.”
James lifted the backpack from her shoulder. “Lead the way.”
CHAPTER TWENTY
Manoa Valley, Oahu
November, 1980
JAMES AND LOYRIA BREATHED A joint sigh of relief when their taxi cleared airport property and merged onto H1. Loyria had purchased first class tickets for the convenience and safety of boarding and deplaning quickly. “It seems our life has narrowed down to running from one place to another, handsome.” She touched her abdomen. “I’m worried about how that’s going to affect our baby girl’s life.”
His hand closed over hers, strong and sure. “Isn’t that why we’re here? To bring me up to speed on the psychic gifts you share with your parents, and to establish a home, a place where our daughter will be able to grow up in peace? And because you can continue your work here?”
Doubt had wormed its way into Loyria’s logical mind, but her Huna training stayed steady. “Yes. But maybe this isn’t perfect, either. My parents are isolated. They made the conscious choice not to live by anyone’s rules, and the Hawaiian underground is their only connection to mainstream civilization. If they hadn’t sent me away to school, and established complete false identities for themselves, there’s no way I would have passed the CIA background check.”
James’s hand tightened around hers. “You’ve never mentioned that. Are you saying that before you were in high school there was no record of your existence?”
“Exactly. My parents know people who get things done. Actually, our alphabet soup of intelligence could take lessons on subterfuge from the Hawaiian underground. My parents used their underground connections to go through a series of complex, clandestine steps to create an identity for me, similar to how they established a bank account, purchased a rather large amount of property on Oahu, paid taxes, and got a platinum credit card. I suppose they’re quite wealthy, but it’s never been mentioned, and…well, wait until you meet them.”
James glanced at the driver. “Should we be…?”
His eyes had clouded with worry. Loyria freed her hand from his grasp, and patted his knee. “Makani and Aukele wouldn’t have left our transportation to chance. They certainly handpicked our driver. I think it’s one of the reasons my parents have never owned a car. It’s safer and more efficient to have trained bodyguards as cab drivers. Like double duty. And they’ve always said owning a vehicle would be even more trouble than a having a telephone.”
James snorted. “They got that right. You do know your family history is completely unbelievable, right?”
“Yes, and that’s exactly what I’ve been trying to explain. I want our daughter to have the best of both worlds: the Huna magic interlaced with how everyone else lives. I’m not sure that’s possible, but I’d like to create a place in the world where she can grow into the woman she wants to be.”
“We best keep her away from Scotland, then.” James ran his hands through his hair, leaving it mussed and sexy.
Loyria’s heart took a dip, then galloped into a potent mix of lust and love. “I love you,” she continued, sitting back to stop herself from jumping him on the spot. “Eventually, I think she should learn about her Scots heritage. There’s magic there, too.”
She squirmed against the worn, uncomfortable seat. “You’d think Makani and Aukele would have chosen a newer taxi to meet us. There are springs poking my backside.”
“Yeah. Got one of those poking me, too. Why do you call your parents by their names instead of Mom and Dad?”
Memories flooded Loyria, and she smiled. “When I was small I called my mother makuahine, and my father makuakane. They had me when they were young, only eighteen, and it worked until I started school and began studying Huna. By then I realized that my father was one of the most revered Kahuna in the islands and it would have been disrespectful to address him as anything but Kahuna Aukele. Now that I’m an adult I drop the title unless we’re in public or having a serious discussion. Or if I’m worried or scared. The same is true for my mom, although sometimes I still just say Mom, especially when she’s baking. There’s something about her kitchen filled with the scent of sweet round bread that just takes me back.”
“Now that sounds more…you’re not gonna like this…normal.” He grinned.
She grinned, elbowing him.
“You keep doing that, woman, and I’m going to have to retaliate. Ribs for ribs. And I happen to know yours are on the ticklish side.”
Joy flooded Loyria. She grabbed the back of the driver’s seat in front of her, and pulled her backside out of the lumpy hollow that had captured her hips. “Look.” She pointed out the front window of the cab. “It’s our first view of the North Shore. One of my favorite moments of coming home.”
JAMES RAN HIS HAND ALONG the silky fall of her hair. “Gorgeous.” The view was breathtaking, but nothing could compare to the innate beauty of his Loyria. Not for the first time, anger welled in his gut over not being able to protect her as well as her family could. He’d find his place here. Make a statement he could be proud of. It offered a hell of a lot more opportunity than being a fricking attorney, although he loved the cipher work that was his real job at the CIA, just hated hiding behind the attorney façade.
He tugged on a lock of her hair. “How long will it take for me to be accepted here?”
She twisted to face him. “Accepted? I’m not sure what you mean.”
“I love you, honey, and protecting you and our daughter is a top priority, but—”
“I get it. One of the most important things you’ll be doing is studying Huna. And my father is an accomplished martial artist. I’m sure he’ll be training you, and when you’re ready, he’ll introduce you to the…people who are Hawaiian intelligence.”
The red heat of anger flashed through him. “I’m damn well trained in hand-to-hand, an expert marksman, and can beat the shit out of anyone in a court case.” Why hadn’t he ever told her about his real work? Was now the time?
Loyria clamped the plump fullness of her lower lip between her teeth. “All among the reasons why I love you, but the modern training provided by the CIA—and I know this, because I went through a lot of classes
—is limited to logic. Aukele will teach you how to fight from a different place.” She grinned. “And so will Makani.”
This wasn’t going at all like he’d planned. He would be the one protecting Loyria and his daughter, and the sooner everyone understood that...
Loyria tapped his knee. “You’re handsome as sin and buff enough to be featured in a fireman’s pinup calendar. I know you’ve kicked the collective butts of many CIA covert operatives, and I’ve seen you in the courtroom. The alpha part of your manhood is intact, trust me. It’s the magic you haven’t nourished.”
Damn it. She had a point. “It’s there, the magic, and was almost the ruin of my father. He was part of the Circle of Nine all his life and truly believed in magic. It dominated his life, took over his mind until…I wonder if it’s why his dementia hit so hard and fast. He was only in his late forties.”
Loyria tapped her finger against her lips. “Hmmm, sounds like he wasn’t using the gifts with respect. You’re not like that, James.” She flattened her hand over his heart. “I’ve seen the magic you hold in here. Our daughter is going to be special. Gifted. Maybe a psychic like Makani, or a time traveler like Aukele, or more ordinary like me.”
“You’re not—”
She hushed him. “I’m gifted, but nothing like my parents. Our daughter will carry their genes. And yours.” She closed her eyes for a moment. “But we also have to consider that I consumed some of my healing formula less than forty-eight hours before we conceived her. There’s no way to know what kind of an effect that will have on her.”
The responsibility of parenthood landed on James’s shoulders with solid thud. “Fatherhood is—”
“Going to be the best experience of your life.” There was a definite grin in Loyria’s voice.
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