by Lyn Horner
“Ah, honey,” Tristan whispered, smoothing strands of hair from her cheek. “That’s why you’re claustrophobic, isn’t it?”
“Yes.”
“I hate the bastard for what he did to you,” he gritted. Catching her chin, he coaxed her to face him. “Surely you don’t think I’d ever treat you like that, do you?”
“No, of course not.” Gazing into his eyes, she stroked the worry lines framing his sexy lips. “But what if you tire of me and my crazy gift?”
“I’ll never tire of you, angel. And your gift leaves me in awe. You healed me with it. The night we met at Johanna’s stuffy Christmas party, we touched and you gave me back the ability to love.” He bent and kissed her gently. “As for fearing I might lose you, sure I do, which is why I’m going to stick to you like glue and protect you. I am your guardian.”
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Char surrendered to Tristan’s drugging kisses, letting go of her worries and fears in the wake of his sweet, persuasive words. She buried her fingers in his hair, loving the silky texture. Abandoning her lips, he picked up her hand and kissed one finger at a time, winning her tender smile.
Then he started to kiss his way up her arm, making her squirm when he reached the inside of her elbow. She was super ticklish there, just like the backs of her knees. His teeth grazed that ultra sensitive area and she giggled uncontrollably. She tried to pull her arm away but he refused to let go.
Chuckling, he blew on the wet spot he’d created, wringing more giggles from her. “You’re not supposed to laugh at my efforts to arouse you.”
“I can’t help it. I’m so ticklish there.”
He transferred his attention to her chest. “How about here? Does this tickle?” he breathed against her skin, gliding wet kisses down the valley between her breasts.
“N-no.”
“Good.” Taking a side trip, he circled one eager globe with lips and tongue, ramping up her breathing in anticipation as the circles became smaller and smaller, leading him toward the taut peek.
A rapid knocking on her door made them both freeze. Then Tristan jackknifed up in bed and tossed the covers over Char. She clutched them to her chest as the door opened, admitting Conn. He stopped, taking in the scene they presented.
“Sorry for barging in, but there’s a car coming up the drive. They’re driving dark but the moon’s out, reflecting off the white vehicle. It’s the one that followed us earlier.”
“Damn! Give us a minute to dress,” Tristan said.
Conn nodded. “I’ll wake Lara and Penelope. You two had best see to Marilee.”
“We will. We’ll meet you in the playroom.”
The moment the door clicked shut behind Conn, Char scrambled out of bed. “Why the playroom?” she asked, snatching her discarded clothes from a chair.
“You’ll see when we get there. Hurry and dress.” He was already zipping his pants and jamming on his shoes.
“I don’t see how the Hellhounds drove in,” she said as she shimmied into her jeans. “The electric gate is supposed to be secure.”
“There are ways to manually open those gates. When I was a cop I saw plenty of them broken open.”
“Jeez, all this time I thought Marilee and I were perfectly safe behind the estate walls and that fancy gate.” She shook her head in disgust.
Once dressed, she led him through the connecting door to Marilee’s bedroom. By the pink glow of a tiara-shaped nightlight, she saw the girl was deeply asleep. Shaking her shoulder gently and calling her name, Char prepared for a battle. Her young charge never liked being awakened from a sound sleep. But Tristan worked his magic with her.
“We’re going to play hide and seek, cupcake.” He winked playfully, drawing a giggle from his cousin. Pressing a finger to his lips, he shook his head and lifted her into her power chair. With no time to dress her, Char covered her with a pink throw.
“No lights and no talking,” Tristan whispered as they moved into the hall. They made their way to the elevator in the dark and rode it downstairs. Marilee didn’t make a peep. Char slipped her hand into Tristan’s, needing his touch. Squeezing her hand, he bent close and murmured, “Everything will be alright.”
The elevator doors hissed open and they crossed the hall to the shadowed playroom. The others were already there, Char noted as she quietly closing the door behind them. The dim light of a flashlight Lara was holding revealed that Marilee’s toy box had been pulled out. Behind it, Conn stood bent over fingering the pink wooden squares on the wall. Char knitted her brows, baffled by his peculiar behavior.
He straightened at their approach. “The Hounds parked out front, blocking us in,” he said quietly. “Three men got out of the car.”
“Have they tried to break in?” Tristan asked. “I didn’t hear any pounding or glass shattering.”
“No, they’re probably checking for an easier entrance than that monster front door.”
“Maybe so. Whatever they’re up too, we’d better not waste time.”
“Agreed. If I can just find the right square … .” Conn poked at the wall again.
“No! That’s a secret. You’re not ’sposed to tell,” Marilee whispered loudly, slapping the arms of her chair.
Conn smiled regretfully at her. “I know, darlin’, but –”
“What secret, honey?” Char interrupted. “And what are you looking for, Conn? Shouldn’t we find a way out of here, or a hiding place?”
“Just a minute. Ah-ha, I found it.” He pressed on the corner of one pink square and stepped back as a section of the wall swung outward.
Not believing her eyes, Char gasped along with the other two women.
“That’s my secret room!” Marilee cried, on the verge of tears. “It’s only for if the bad men come.”
Sighing, Conn squatted in front of her. “I know, princess, but see, the bad men are already here.”
The girl’s blue eyes grew as big as two huge marbles. “They are?”
“Yup, they’re outside, waiting to get in.”
“No! Don’t let them in.” Marilee reached for Char, who stood to her right. “I’m scared,” she wailed and began to cry.
Char felt the girl clutch her hand, but she couldn’t move. She stared at the black breach in the wall. She’d guessed what the men had in mind and the idea petrified her.
Conn moved aside as Tristan stepped in to hug Marilee. “I told you we’re going to play hide and seek, remember? Now, Conn and I will try to keep the bad men out. But just in case they trick us and get in, we need you and the ladies to hide in your secret room. You’ll be safe there. Okay?”
Marilee sniffled and said, “But it’s dark.” She pointed at the opening. “I’m scared of the dark.”
“No problem. Conn has a flashlight. Do you want to hold it and chase away the dark in there?”
“Yes, I want the flashlight.”
“Good girl.” Tristan kissed the top of her head as Conn handed her the flashlight.
“Don’t drop it,” he said.
“I won’t.” She clutched the small light to her chest. “I’ll hold it tight.”
Char observed all of this with half an eye. Her attention remained locked on the dark, enclosed space beyond the wall. Her heart beat erratically. A cold sweat broke out all over her body.
“Tristan, I can’t go in there. You know I can’t,” she choked out.
“Oh dear!” her mother said. “Char is afraid of dark, enclosed spaces. How could I have forgotten?”
Turning to Char, Tristan gripped her shoulders. “Angel, I know the idea of being shut in there terrifies you, but this is the only way I can protect you.”
“No! I can’t!” She shook her head wildly, almost in a panic.
He gave her a light shake. “Yes you can. Think of Marilee. She needs you with her. She’s afraid of the dark too, but she’s willing to do this. Are you going to abandon her or will you face your fear and do your duty?” His hazel eyes bored into her, demanding courage from her that she did
n’t have to give.
Yet, from somewhere, she dredged up a spark of determination. “For Marilee,” she said weakly.
Tristan brought her close and kissed her hard, exuding an unspoken resolve – to save her from danger, she realized. Then he released her, she swallowed hard and steered Marilee’s chair into the hole in the wall, feeling like she was walking to her doom.
“Be very quiet, all of you,” Conn said, closing the door after them.
*
Gun drawn, Tristan stood at the front door with Conn, listening for movement outside. The only sound came from the back of the house, a metal scraping metal noise.
“They’re trying to unlock the back door off the kitchen,” he whispered.
“Then we’d better distract them. Ready?”
“Ready. Let’s do this.” With that, Tristan unbolted the heavy door and threw it against the wall with a resounding bang. “Go!”
They ran to the SUV, Conn jumping behind the wheel and starting the motor while Tristan rounded the vehicle and dove into the passenger seat. Unable to drive forward because of the white sedan blocking their path, Conn backed around the empty fountain. He was making a tight u-turn when the invaders opened fire from both sides of the mansion. Most of their bullets went wild, but two hit the SUV. One smashed through the rear window, burying itself in an empty seat back. The other grazed a back door as Conn took off up the long, winding driveway.
“Do you think they fell for the wide open front door?” Tristan asked, turning to stare out the shattered window behind them.
“Are they coming after us? That ought to tell us if they took the bait.”
“I don’t see their car. No, wait! Here they come.” The mongrels had indeed taken the bait hook, line and sinker, thinking the open door meant their prize – the two Guardians – were escaping.
“Great. Now all we have to do is stay ahead of them. We can’t let them overtake us and discover the women aren’t with us.” As he spoke, Conn raced through the wide open gate, made a screeching left turn onto the road and floored the gas pedal. The big SUV shot forward like a cannonball, opening a hefty lead on the white car. Their advantage quickly dwindled, however, as the Hellhounds charged after them.
Shots rang out from their pursuers, not aimed at the passenger cabin but at the tires this time. The gunmen were afraid of hitting the women, Tristan realized. One of them must have gotten chewed out back at the house for shooting through the rear window. Grinning at the thought, he lowered his side window, leaned out and unloaded several rounds at the sedan. One found its mark, knocking out a headlight. He had the satisfaction of seeing the car swerve briefly from side to side. Then more bullets flew, aimed at him. He ducked back inside unscathed.
‘They’re still closing in,” Conn yelled. “We need to lose them. Any ideas?”
Frowning, Tristan growled in frustration. Then an idea struck. It was brutal but so were the men trying to grab Char and Lara.
“There’s a crossroad not too far ahead. Turn right onto it.”
“Yeah? How am I supposed to see it in time at this speed in the dark?”
“If I remember right, school buses stop there to pick up kids, and there’s a yellow warning sign a short way before the turnoff.
“Okay, I’ll watch for it. Why don’t you remind our friends back there that we’re not easy pickings.”
“Glad to.” Hanging out the window again, Tristan fired several more rounds at the speeding sedan. Unfortunately, they all missed. Return fire narrowly missed his head. Cursing, he pumped out two more bullets then retreated.
“That was close. I’ll be glad to see the last of those bastards,” he said. Peering into the darkness ahead, he spotted the bus stop warning sign in the SUV’s headlights. “Slow down. The turn’s right … here.”
Conn stomped on the brake, nearly getting the sedan up their back end. He turned just in time, spraying gravel at the other car and fishtailing on the unpaved surface. Straightening out, he pushed on as fast as possible.
“There’s another turnoff about a quarter mile up this road. Take it fast. I want them to miss the turn.”
“Got it. And what will that accomplish?”
“It should put an end to them. I hope.” He stared ahead, praying he’d spot the turn. He was almost too late. “Turn!” he shouted.
Cussing a blue streak, Conn took the brushy, half hidden corner on two wheels, fighting for control. Tristan watched out the back window. The white sedan whizzed by just as the SUV landed hard on all four wheels.
“You can stop now,” he said. A second later, a hair-raising scream rent the night.
“What the hell? What happened to them?” Conn asked.
“There’s a cliff no more than a hundred feet ahead. They just sailed over it straight into a rocky inlet of Long Island Sound.”
“Jesus!” Conn stared at him, looking pale in the dim moonlight shining through the windshield. “If I’d missed this turn, that might be us splattered all over those rocks. You took quite a chance, my friend.”
“Yeah, and it worked. Shall we head back and free our ladies from their prison? Char must be climbing the walls by now. She’s claustrophobic thanks to being locked in a root cellar as a young girl by her good-for-nothing father.”
“Damn! I bet you’d like to get your hands on him.”
“You’ve got that right.”
*
Char was on the verge of losing her sanity in the dark, narrow hiding place. Feeling as though the walls were closing in, she sank to the floor, fighting for air. If she was lucky, maybe she’d pass out before she started howling like a mad woman.
“Hang on, dear,” Mama pleaded softly, kneeling beside her, gripping her cold, trembling hands. She was no help since her own fears intensified Char’s.
Marilee pointed the flashlight’s pitiful glow her way. “Don’t be scared, Char,” she said in a high-pitched whisper. “I won’t let the monsters get you.”
Char managed a breathless, “Thank you, darling. You’re a brave girl … braver than me.”
“The men will return soon, I’m sure,” Lara said. “They must have led the Hellhounds away. I’m not sensing danger anymore.”
“That’s good news, isn’t it, honey,” Mama said, patting Char’s shoulder.
The minutes dragged on, an endless torture caused not only by her claustrophobia but by her fear for Tristan. Was he alright or had the Hellhounds caught him and Conn? Screwing her eyes shut against the encroaching darkness, she prayed to the Goddess for their safe return. Soon!
Moment later, a muffled sound made her eyes fly open.
“What was that?” Lara whispered.
“The front door closed … I think,” she said. Her stomach knotted with fresh fear.
“It’s the bad guys!” Marilee shrilled, forgetting to keep her voice down.
“Shhh!” Char cried softly. Grappling with her own terror, she struggled to her feet and wrapped her arms around the frightened girl. “We need to be quiet,” she whispered as Marilee huddled against her chest and clung to her, shaking.
Beyond the false wall, she detected barely audible footsteps and held her breath. Mama and Lara drew close. A knock reverberated on the secret door, causing Char to stiffen and Marilee to whimper.
“Char? It’s me,” Tristan’s voice called through the barrier.
She cried out in relief and heard her mother and Lara do likewise. Her knees would have buckled if Marilee hadn’t been hanging onto her so tight.
“Conn is here with me. We’re going to open the door.”
Evidently Conn found the right spot to press easily this time, because the door swung outward within seconds. Char hurriedly guided Marilee’s chair out of the dark, into the brightly lit playroom. Blinking several times, she inhaled her first deep breath since being shut in the hidden space, a torture chamber to her. The other two women emerged behind her. Then Tristan was there, crushing her against him.
“Sorry we took so long. Are you al
right, angel? You’re trembling.” His raspy voice shook almost as much as hers when she replied.
“N-now I am.” She clutched him around the waist, soaking in his strength.
“What happened?” Lara asked, sounding both relieved and worried.
Lifting her head from Tristan’s chest, Char saw the High Guardian locked in her mate’s arms. Mama had rushed forward to reassure a bewildered, whimpering Marilee with hugs and kisses.
“We got rid of the Hellhounds, for now anyway,” Conn answered. “I think we should be safe for the rest of the night. Come morning, we’re out of here.”
No one disagreed, least of all Char. After their close call and her terrifying test of endurance, she wanted to be gone as much as the rest of them.
“I think we should still keep watch on the off chance more of the bas, uh, bad guys are lurking somewhere nearby,” Tristan said, stroking Char’s back with his warm hands.
“Right. Take care of Charlotte. I’ll watch for another couple hours,” Conn said. “Then I’ll wake you.”
“Thanks, man, I appreciate that.” Turning Char, keeping an arm around her, Tristan started to lead her away, but she hung back.
“Wait, I need to see to Marilee,” she protested weakly.
“I’ll put our girl back to bed,” her mother said. “You get some rest, dear. We’ll be fine, won’t we, sweetie.” Squeezing Marilee’s shoulders, she kissed and caressed her tear-streaked face.
Marilee leaned against her ample bosom. “Uh-huh, be fine,” she mumbled, half asleep already.
Mama smiled lovingly down at her and nodded at Char. “There, you see? Nothing to worry about. Go with Tristan. We’ll be right along.”
Char was too mentally exhausted to argue. She said, “Okay,” and let herself be led from the room. When she stumbled in the hall, Tristan swung her into his arms and started up the stairs.
“We could take the elevator,” she muttered with her head on his shoulder.
“But I like holding you in my arms.” He nuzzled her temple, making her smile. Once in her room, he helped her out of her clothes and laid her gently on the rumpled bed. He shed his own garments and joined her, tucking her against his warm, hard-muscled body, with his arms around her and his familiar scent enveloping her.