Asp (Guardian Shadow World Book 2)

by Kris Michaels

  Lyric dropped his pack and hers and sat down next to the fire. "Why did you move the fire back?"

  "Added security." He sat down with her and fished in his backpack producing another of those damn bars. He held it out to her.

  "I'm not hungry." Not for that anyway. They tasted like crap. Yeah, she knew she was being a bitch, and she knew why. She didn't want him to leave. She didn't want him to risk his life. She didn't want to wait three days in this cavern and then go home like nothing had happened. How could she when Isaac was in danger? How could she when she’d fallen in love with the man? Her life had changed. Isaac was the reason her heart beat. She knew everything she'd ever wanted was encapsulated in the man. How could she go through life comparing all the men who crossed her path to him? No one could measure up. No one matched his integrity, his kindness, his...no, she didn't want to wait three days. What she wanted to do was to fall on her knees and beg him to stay.

  So…what was she going to do about it? If she did nothing, he was gone.

  He leaned back from the fire and unwrapped his food, eating half of it in one bite.

  She studied him as he studied the fire. "Why do you have to go back?"

  His gaze swung to her. "What do you mean?"

  "Why do you have to go back to the States when you stop this guy?" She was grasping at straws. “You could stay here, in Colombia. You could live and work on my grandfather's farm with me.” Lyric blinked at the utter stupidity of that thought. Isaac wasn't a farmer. She sighed and dropped her head into her hands, pulling on her hair. "Ugh...never mind. That was stupid." She shook her head and then dropped her hands. When she lifted her head, he was staring at her. What she saw in his eyes looked like pity. She once again shook her head, but this time it was because she was pissed. "Do not give me that look, Isaac Cooper. I don't want your pity." That wasn't going to happen. "Forget I said anything. Go back to the States. Do your dangerous job. Get your friend's daughter a pony and live your life."

  "You don't understand."

  "No, I don't. Why don't you make me? Why can't you come back or take me with you? Why?"

  He stood and ran his hands through his hair as he paced back and forth. "Right. Fine, let me spell it out. I am an assassin. I kill people. Monsters, horrible people who are beyond the reach of normal law enforcement. I take them out to make the world a better place. Fuck, Isaac Cooper isn't even my real name! I am a killer, Lyric, a murderer, and I am not someone you need to be involved with!"

  Lyric stood and wrapped her arms around herself. "Murderers kill for greed or lust. You kill because it is your job." The thoughts were out of her mouth before she could censor them.

  "I kill. Period." He still hadn't met her gaze.

  Lyric stepped closer to him, and he moved away keeping the fire between them. "Take me with you, Isaac. I know you are a good man. I know you have a difficult job. I see the way you worry, the way you protect me. The way you don't want to make love to me because it will be harder for you to leave. You want me as much as I want you. Take. Me. With. You."

  He turned and looked at her. His eyes held his answer, one she didn't want to hear. "I can't. How could I? Didn't you hear a thing I just said?"

  Lyric walked around the fire and stood in front of him. "I heard. I don't care. I have fallen in love with you, whoever you are.” She reached out with a shaking hand and placed it over his chest. "I don’t need a name to know the man who owns this heart is a good man, and I can't help but love him."

  He closed his eyes and lifted his hand to cover hers. "I may die tomorrow."

  She stepped into him and wrapped her arms around his waist. "Tomorrow is never guaranteed. We only have now." She leaned away from him to look into his eyes. She saw it then, the love he held for her. "I want all my now to be with you. Only you."

  "I..."

  She lifted her hand and put it to his lips, stilling whatever objection he was going to raise. "Answer one question. Do you feel what is between us?" She stared into his eyes.

  The firelight danced around them, sending shadows across his face. He couldn't deny his feelings for her, not when his eyes confessed them. He nodded his head. Once.

  Lyric collapsed into him. "Then nothing else matters. I will wait three days, and I will go down this mountain. I will wait for you, and Isaac?" She leaned up and narrowed her eyes at him. "You will come back for me. Finish your job here, but don't you dare think you can walk away from me."

  "You are the most demanding, frustrating, loving, and beautiful woman I've ever met." He lowered and kissed her.

  Lyric shivered at the first brush of his lips. He hadn't said he loved her. He didn't need to say it. His lips, the way he held her, and the emotion in his eyes told her. She slid her arms around his neck and let him lead the dance of their tongues.

  He pulled away only to move her to the pallet he'd built. He held her as he lowered her to the ground and hovered over her. "I can't make you any promises. I will try to come back for you, however long it takes."

  Tears threatened, but she fought them back, instead running her hands up his shoulders. The joy of hearing the promise she'd only dreamed of won over her valent attempts not to cry. Fat tears pushed over her lashes. Her voice emerged thick with emotion. "I don't care. I'll wait for you. Whatever it takes to make that happen, Isaac. Whatever it takes."

  He lifted a few inches and a dazzling smile spread across his face.

  "What?"

  "Nothing. It’s just...nothing. I think you may be perfect."

  She slapped his shoulder and laughed. "See? That is what I've been telling you!" Their laughter rolled around the cavern.

  He stilled and stared down at her. "I'm in love with you, Lyric Gadson."

  Lyric closed her eyes as their lips met. She lost herself in the sensation of the man above her. Clothes disappeared, and skin met skin. She touched and memorized his strong back, the scars on his arms, the breadth of his chest as he made love to her. Tears again formed in her eyes as he centered over her. The newfound love between them and the uncertainty of their future became a maelstrom of emotion. He carried her to a mountaintop of sensation, a crest that left her shattered into a thousand pieces. She held him as he chased his own release. Her name pushed past his lips as he withdrew and crashed through his climax. His shoulder hit the pallet beside her, and she was rolled into his arms. He held her close to his chest where she heard the rapid beat of his heart. Lips against her hair whispered the confirmation of his love. Exhaustion, both mental and physical, swamped her in a heavy, warm embrace. Her last thought as she let sleep take her was that Isaac would come back.

  Isaac watched Lyric as she finished her shower under the waterfall. They'd slept until late afternoon and had made love again. Twice. He could say he couldn't get enough of her body, and that would be true, but it wasn't the whole truth. What he felt for her was more than the lust for sex. Her strength, temper, sass, and willfulness were intertwined with a loving, giving, and beautiful soul. She was everything he wanted and did not deserve. If he was successful...no. When he was successful and had shut down the threat to her and to him, he'd go back to the complex and talk to Anubis and Bengal. Fuck, he'd even try to talk to Fury—if the man didn’t gut him first. Since he’d mistakenly commented on the…assets…of Fury's wife, things were kinda…tense…between them. Like he knew the knockout redhead was Fury's wife. He’d thought the assassin dead. Actually, “Fury” was dead, but the man beneath the code name wasn't. Asp lifted a mental eyebrow at that. He'd sure as fuck like to go back to who he was before he “died”, but that person was long gone.

  The thoughts ran through his mind as he watched the water sluice over his woman. Mine. Lyric's hair fell like a sleek pelt down her back to the curve of her ass. This beautiful woman wanted him even though she knew his truth. He handed her a dry t-shirt as she stepped out of the water and watched her as she dried off. Fuck, that was another thing he'd need to address. She knew he was an assassin and she knew his employer. Anubis and
Bengal were going to have his ass. He'd never breached protocol regarding his cover but, leave it to him...when he broke a rule, he did it right. Hell, it was the biggest breach in the history of breaches. Not that he'd change a thing. She knew, and she still wanted him.

  "Like what you see?" Lyric's words pulled him out of his thoughts and back to the present.

  He smiled. "You know I do." He pushed away from the rocks he was leaning on and made his way over to her. "You're beautiful."

  "I'm not, but I am yours." Lyric lifted up and kissed him.

  He slid his arms around her and deepened the connection between them. She moaned into his mouth, and he inhaled her desire, consumed it, as if his existence depended on it. She linked her arms around his neck and dropped her head back when he released her lips. She stared up at him, and he used the time to memorize her. Dark, arched eyebrows, high cheekbones, a small, straight nose and lips that begged to be kissed.

  "You are mine." He dropped another kiss on her lips. He glanced skyward before he spoke again. "I have to go soon." She gazed up at the twilight evening sky and closed her eyes. He grabbed her hand, and they made their way back into the cavern. He made short work of gathering his few items and his rifle. She waited for him by the smaller cave entrance. Asp set his equipment down and pulled her into his arms. "I love you. Be safe. Don't take any chances. Wait at least three days before you go down the mountain."

  He kissed her as she started to speak. He needed a minute, a chance to stomp on emotions he wasn't used to dealing with before he'd let her talk. When he left this cave, he’d be forced to leave everything behind. He couldn’t take any emotional baggage with him. He couldn’t worry about her, or about a future, because the second he did, he’d open an opportunity for a mistake—a mistake that could cost him his life. He lifted away. “Three days. I have to know you won’t leave this cave, for any reason, for three days. If I’m worried about you, I won’t be able to concentrate and not concentrating will get me killed.” Was it wrong of him to lay that on her? He didn’t think so. She needed to understand.

  “Three days. I promise.”

  She lifted up on her toes again, and he took her invitation one last time. He broke away, strapped his backpack on and shouldered his rifle.

  She moved closer to him and took his hand in hers. “You promised to take me with you, Isaac. I look forward to seeing America again. Don’t make me wait too long.” She squeezed his hand and stepped away.

  There was so fucking much he wanted to say, but nothing else could be said—no more promises made that might never be kept, no more futures planned that might never come to pass. He nodded at her and turned on his heel.

  Chapter 16

  After hours of travel Asp hunkered down in the same depression he’d dug a little over a month ago. A month. Fuck, if someone had told him when he first dug out his shallow hasty scrape and started to camouflage it that he’d be back here after being shot and falling in love, he’d have laughed in their faces. He grabbed an empty bottle made of clear glass out of his backpack. Sliding forward on his belly, he positioned the glass to catch the afternoon sun. The camp below slept, and the cloud cover obscured his movements in the brush as he cast no shadow. He backed away, taking the time to brush away his tracks, drift leaves over the bare spots and fade into the underbrush. He dropped back to his secondary position and covered his observation post with branches, vines, and leaves before he settled in and pulled one of the last two power bars out of his knapsack. His view of the camp was unobstructed as was his view of his trap. Now he’d wait for the minion that would lead him to the rat.

  Asp stirred from a fitful rest. He blinked away any traces of sleep and scanned the area. The sky had cleared and the position of the sun told him he had an hour, maybe two, before it reached the glass. He rolled his shoulders and systematically clenched and released the major muscle groups in his body. Staying inactive for such a long period of time forced a person to learn how to keep alert. This was his tried and true method. He continued his exercise as his mind drifted and his eyes scanned the camp below him. There were more people and more cars than a month ago, but then again if Halo was intent on resurrecting the FARC malcontents, the addition of personnel made sense, although without Halo on scene, who ran the show? Who funded the effort and what was the primary goal? Granted the FARC made money off the coca trade, but only because they taxed the farmers who grew it. To the best of his knowledge, the FARC did not produce or sell the drugs. Maybe Halo had something different in mind? Asp flashed back to the shack on the other side of the mountain. It had a hidden coca field below it. The FARC wouldn’t go to the trouble of hiding a field of coca. Of course, he worked on the assumption that Halo or his people knew about the field. It was one hell of an assumption. Asp ran the scenarios around in his brain a few more times before he noticed movement below.

  Three men stood at the edge of the camp. He lifted his rifle, making sure not to catch the light and shine a reflection. Three men, in battle dress uniforms. No insignia of rank and all three wore their black berets like a chef’s hat. Asp didn’t stop the sneer that crossed his face. Posers. He watched one motion toward where he’d set up his mousetrap. The fattest of the three shook his head adamantly. Whatever they were discussing, two of the three were against what the scrawny one wanted to accomplish. Finally, the one that was gesturing up the mountain threw up his hands and stalked away from the group. He lifted the barbed wire, slipped through the interior fence line, and motioned for something. He waited until one of the men he’d left sent a whistle his way and then he opened a panel in the fence line and left the compound heading straight up the mountain.

  Occasionally, Asp could see the brush moving below him. Whoever the man was, he wasn’t a skilled climber. He bounced his view from the camp to the man’s progress. A convoy of three, open-cabbed Jeeps pulled into camp. Asp raised his scope and unlike the glass bottle that glinted and twinkled in the afternoon sun, again made note of the position of the sun to avoid any reflection. The men in the vehicles congregated at the middle Jeep. Asp leaned into his scope to get a look at the faces just as Dora the Explorer broke through the bushes in front of him. Asp froze and waited.

  The man lowered his hands to his knees and bent over, panting like a dog. “Fucking hell, it was around here somewhere.”

  He had an American accent. Asp’s rifle pointed right at the asshole. He remained still and shifted his eyes to the right of the man, keeping him in his peripheral vision.

  “Where the fuck?” The man spun around as if to get his bearings.

  The radio that hung from his belt squawked. “Durbin, the boss wants to know what the fuck you’re doing up there?”

  The man grabbed the radio and directed all his attention down the hill, standing not more than seven feet from where Asp held a weapon, trained on his chest. “I’m checking something out.” Durbin lifted his finger off the button that activated the microphone. “Stupid fuck, do you think I’d climb this fucking rock for fun?” The man swung his attention away from the camp and headed toward Asp’s mousetrap. Little did Durbin know, he was most definitely the mouse. And the mouse would lead Asp to the rat's nest.

  “Boss says to get your ass back down here. You’re not supposed to leave camp without permission.”

  “Fuck you. What am I, five?” Durbin damn near shouted the words down the mountain. He found the bottle Asp had left and picked it up. “A fucking bottle.” Durbin lifted his radio again. “Tell Jose his fucking eyes are shit. There wasn’t anyone up here. It was glass reflecting off a bottle.” There was silence for a moment, and Durbin chucked the bottle down the hill. It crashed into the rocks below and shattered.

  “Dude, boss is pissed. You didn’t tell anyone Jose thought he saw something. It could have been the sniper.”

  “Well no fucking shit, bird brain! Why the fuck do you think I came up here? For my health? If I could have gotten that motherfucker, Mr. Flowers would be fucking impressed, wouldn’t he?” The
man ranted as he walked back to the bushes in front of Asp. He lifted his radio to his mouth and spoke, “It was nothing. I knew it was nothing. No sense wasting resources. I’m on my way back down. Tell the fucking wannabes not to shoot my ass.”

  Asp waited until the man had dropped forty feet before he worked his way soundlessly out of his observation post and shadowed the man down the hill. Durbin fell, cussed, bellowed and made one hell of a lot of noise, drawing all attention toward him as he crashed down the mountain. Asp couldn't have asked for a better diversion.

  The double fence line was new. Money had been poured in to reinforce the encampment. As long as the fence line wasn’t electrified, Asp could navigate the physical barriers. The interesting thing about fortifying your camp was it gave you a false sense of safety. First and foremost, a sniper could wreak havoc, raining down death from above. A fence couldn’t stop a bullet. Asp didn’t doubt whoever was on the ridge a month ago was still around. He hoped the bastard made the mistake of showing himself. He’d love to teach the son of a bitch a lesson. Never miss your target and if you miss, shoot the fucker again. He chuckled at the old saying. Asp moved to the bushes immediately outside the fence line. There was no clear zone. The brush should have been pushed back to give the people inside the compound a clear, three-sixty view of the area. Piss poor planning.

  He hunkered down and watched. There wasn’t much structure under the activity in the camp. No dogs–always a plus. The lighting was minimal, and he could slip through the fence in several areas. What he needed, however, was to find ‘the boss.’ He studied the men who walked from building to building. He could identify a handful of prior military types. Most were over six-feet-tall, still wore high and tights and they took notice of their surroundings. They searched the tree line every time they exited a building. They wore side arms and didn’t fuck around like the rest of the men who went about their daily activities. The low growl of several vehicles made him shift to watch the inbound personnel. Two Hummers appeared and were immediately passed through the gates. Asp contorted around a young sapling to see who had entered the compound. He smiled as an older gentleman exited the lead vehicle. The deference shown to him by everyone told him what he needed to know. This bastard was the reason the camp hadn’t splintered after Halo One-One’s brain matter painted the shack behind him. Asp twisted to see who…