by Cynthia Eden
Now she spun toward him.
The light had returned.
He smiled at her. “It’s not loaded, but you can bluff like a pro. I’ll remember that.”
“Just because you can do some parlor tricks, it doesn’t mean you aren’t a killer!”
He tucked the gun into the waistband of his jeans. “I am a killer. I killed as a SEAL, and I’ve killed while working for Project Lazarus. But I didn’t kill your father. I swear it to you. And I wasn’t working with Patrick Zane. I was sent to help you. That was why I appeared in the house when you were tied to the chair. I was supposed to get you out. I was supposed to stay with you.” His lips tightened. “Though I didn’t find out the full truth about why until recently.”
She could only shake her head.
“Lazarus is real. The things the government did to us—everything is real. They brought men and women back from the dead. They kept us isolated, kept us at their hidden bases to be monitored. Then they used us. Mission after mission, they used us.” He rolled back his shoulders. “And they lied to us.”
There was a crash from her den. It sounded as if her front door had been smashed in. Eyes widening, she whirled. This was her chance. She lunged for the bedroom door—
Jett locked an arm around her waist. “You’re in danger,” Jett gritted as he jerked her behind him. “You don’t understand the threat. Don’t understand how valuable you may be to them—”
“Let her go!” A man’s voice blasted. The overhead light in her bedroom flashed on.
She glanced around Jett’s body. Agent McNeely was there. She hadn’t even realized he was back in the city. When she’d texted earlier, Savannah had figured McNeely had just contacted the local authorities.
McNeely had his gun up, aimed at Jett, and he—
Fired. Once, twice. The bullets slammed into Jett’s body as Savannah screamed.
Then Jett was falling. His body hit hers, and they both tumbled to the floor.
“He had a gun!” McNeely yelled.
Cops were rushing in behind the agent.
“I had to take the shots,” McNeely added, voice gruff.
But she wasn’t looking at him. Jett was on the floor, she was on the floor, and there was so much blood. She put her hands on his chest, trying to stop all of that terrible blood flow. “Jett?”
His head turned. He stared at her with pain-filled eyes.
“Jett?” She could feel tears on her cheeks. For a moment, she forgot everything else. She remembered the lover she’d known. The man who’d held her tenderly. The man who’d come to her in the darkness and saved her when she’d been terrified.
Don’t worry, baby. I’ll come back.
His words drifted though her mind. She could have sworn that he even tried to smile at her. Smile…right before his eyes changed.
Right before the life left his dark gaze.
Then hard hands were yanking her back. She was being pushed aside as the cops closed in, surrounding Jett.
“Someone get an EMT!” Jennifer yelled.
An EMT wasn’t going to do any good. Savannah stumbled back. She looked at the blood on her hands. Jett’s blood. Nausea spun through her. Dizziness had her swaying.
He was dead. She’d seen him die. This wasn’t what she wanted. Jett shouldn’t have died. No, no, no.
Tears were tumbling down her cheeks. Her body was shaking.
“You need to leave.” Jennifer was in front of her. Concern clear on her face. “Come on.” Jennifer took her arm, pulling her from the bedroom. But Savannah didn’t want to leave. She wanted to stay right there.
I’ll come back.
“It was my gun,” Savannah whispered. “It wasn’t even loaded.” And it had been tucked in his waistband. Jett hadn’t even been pointing it at— “How did the special agent even get here? I thought he was in New Orleans.”
“I don’t know.” Jennifer’s voice was low as she steered Savannah outside and onto the balcony. “Take some breaths. Some deep breaths. You look like you’re about to faint.”
Jett. Dead. Her arms wrapped around her stomach as she rocked back and forth. This couldn’t be happening. Could not be. She hurt.
“The special agent just roared onto the scene,” Jennifer’s voice was for her ears alone. “Raced past me and my partner and into your house before we could stop him. I don’t know how the guy even knew that Jett was inside.”
He shouldn’t have known that Jett was inside.
She tried to think past the pain and the rage and…
Is Jett a monster? Is everything true? Everything that McNeely said?
McNeely…the man who’d shot Jett without hesitating. She glanced back toward the bedroom.
“Get the body loaded. Right the fuck now!” McNeely stood over Jett’s form, glowering. “Move it, move it!”
Wait, that wasn’t normal. You didn’t move a body that fast. She knew…because of her own father’s crime scene. She grabbed Jennifer. “What is happening?”
Jennifer had turned to stare suspiciously at the scene, too. The cops had been pushed back. Men and women in dark suits had taken over. Someone was even already loading Jett into a body bag.
Savannah lunged forward as she rushed from the balcony and back into her bedroom. “Stop it!”
McNeely turned toward her. “This is a crime scene.” He motioned to a blond-haired agent with glasses. “Agent Lane, take her downstairs and secure her in your SUV.”
What?
Jennifer stepped to Savannah’s side. “It is a damn crime scene, and that is why procedures have to be followed. You don’t move the body. Not until the techs get here. We need to photograph everything. Mark evidence. We need to—”
McNeely stalked toward Jennifer and Savannah. “You need to stand down, Officer Adams. This isn’t your case any longer.” His gaze darted to Savannah. “You’ll be coming with us. We have questions that need answering.”
Again, dizziness rose within her. Her hand went to her stomach, and McNeely followed the movement. She was pretty sure he tensed.
This is wrong. Everything was wrong. Jett had been shot. Shot. Her fingers were shaking, her knees felt funny, and—
“She’s going to faint,” Jennifer said.
No, she wasn’t. Maybe.
“I’m taking her to get checked by the EMTs, right the hell now.” Jennifer glared at McNeely. “Because she’s my friend, and you can fuck off.”
Then they were brushing past the agents. The body bag was being carried away by a few men. Carried away? This was all so wrong. They were just lugging the bag like it was filled with dirty laundry. A sharp cry rose to her lips.
“Yeah, something is very wrong here.” Jennifer had a fierce grip on her. “I’m calling the chief. Not my case? The hell it isn’t.” Then they were outside.
Only…Agent Lane was there, too.
He was following them.
Jennifer motioned to an EMT. He hurried toward Savannah.
“I’m fine.” Lie, lie, lie.
Her gaze darted to the black bag. It had been tossed into the back of a white van. That van… “Jett.” Savannah whispered his name and hurt.
The van practically raced from the scene. The tires shrieked as they hit the road. The engine was growling.
“What in the ever-loving name of God…” Jennifer began.
Savannah couldn’t take her gaze off the van. It was hurtling down the road.
“Driving like they stole something,” Jennifer snapped. “Doesn’t make a bit of sense. That’s not even the coroner’s van. It doesn’t—”
The van flew off the road.
Savannah screamed.
The accident happened so fast. One moment, the van was hurtling away. Insanity. The next—it was rolling, tumbling over and over before it slammed into a power pole.
Jennifer ran toward the scene. Agent Lane rushed ahead of her, pulling out his phone and barking orders.
Savannah didn’t move. A dull ringing filled her ears. Jett had tol
d her about a group called Lazarus. He’d told her that he was a dead man who’d come back from the grave. He’d vanished and reappeared right before her eyes.
What if it’s all true?
If it was true, if everything he’d said was true…
I’ll come back.
His final message replayed in her mind.
He’d been telling her that she was in danger. Now Agent McNeely wanted to take her away.
This was all…wrong.
She turned from the sight of the wreck, swiping away the tears on her cheeks. There was one thing she had to do. One person she had to protect. The one who needed her the most. She marched toward her parked car. Her keys were upstairs, but, back in her teenage days, she’d picked up a few tips from her friends at the psychiatric hospital. One friend in particular—a girl who’d been a bit of klepto—had spent hours telling Savannah how to hot-wire cars. Maybe Savannah had practiced what she’d been taught…a time or twenty.
She was almost at her car when…
His arms wrapped around her. “Please, don’t scream.”
Jett’s voice. Jett’s hand over her mouth. Jett’s other arm cradled protectively over her stomach. The man she’d seen die was holding her.
The dizziness got worse.
And so did…so did the darkness that seemed to surround them.
“I swear, I’m not the bad guy. I’m here to help you.”
The shadows were so thick. Like a fog around her.
Agent McNeely ran right by them. Seemed to glance right through them.
“I can get us both out of here without being seen.” Jett’s breath blew over her cheek. He was speaking in a low, rasping whisper. “But if you scream, they’ll hear it. So I can keep my hand over your mouth…”
She could fight him. Absolutely could. Only she didn’t.
I saw him die. And now he’s making us invisible. That was exactly what he was doing.
All of his stories hadn’t been lies. And if they hadn’t been…maybe, just maybe…
What about my father?
“Option two is that I can move my hand. I can trust you. And that’s what I’m going to do, baby.” His hand slid away from her mouth. “You scream, and they will come running. I can use the shadows to hide us from their sight, but I can’t control sound.”
She tried to breathe. It was hard to suck in air.
“The choice is yours, but I hope you don’t scream. I hope you don’t, baby. Now that you know what I can do, now that you’ve seen for yourself that Lazarus is no lie, give me a chance to explain everything.”
He was using a psychic power to camouflage them. If she hadn’t seen it with her own eyes, Savannah wouldn’t have believed it was possible. But agent after agent, cop after cop—they were all just running right by them.
“I swear, I didn’t kill your father. I told the asshole what I thought of him before I left. I threatened him, but he was still breathing when I exited the mansion. I promise, he was.”
She turned toward him. The shadows were thick around them. But she could see him. See his face. His glinting eyes.
“You are in danger. And you’re in danger because of me. Because I wanted you too much and because others know about my need.” A muscle flexed in his jaw. “We have to leave this scene. Let me get you someplace safe, and I’ll explain everything to you.” And he pushed a gun into her hand. “It’s loaded. You keep it. I stole it from one of the idiots in the van when I shoved out of the body bag.”
Hold it together, Savannah.
“If you feel threatened, you shoot me.”
But he came back from the dead.
He lifted the gun. Pointed it right at his head. “A shot to the brain will keep me permanently dead. Just consider me your own personal zombie.”
She yanked the gun away from his head. “I will absolutely not.” Her voice was just as low as his. Barely a breath.
“Keep the gun. It will make you feel safer. It will show you that you can trust me.”
The gun was heavy in her hand.
“We have to get out of here. If I can keep touching you, then my shadows will cover you. We stay close, and we get out of here.”
Jennifer had just run toward Savannah’s car. The cop glanced around, frantic, then she shouted, “Savannah! Where are you?”
Jett tensed. Savannah knew he thought she’d shout back at her friend. But…
She didn’t.
His breath released on a long exhale. Let’s go. It’s not safe here.
His words in her mind were like a familiar touch. And they…they warmed her, as crazy as that sounded.
I can carry you and we can cover one hell of a lot of ground, faster.
She squared her shoulders. Carry me.
He scooped her into his arms. Held her carefully. And she kept the gun clutched in her hand. He moved so fast, impossibly, crazily, stomach-churningly fast. She actually felt the wind whipping around them. The dizziness returned. She squeezed her eyes shut because everything was spinning and then—
He stopped. She cracked open her eyes. The fog around them vanished.
They were far from her home. She didn’t even recognize the street, but a motorcycle was right beside them. He handed her a helmet, and then he climbed on.
“Just take the damn gun, okay? Put it somewhere safe.” She wasn’t holding the thing while they were riding on a motorcycle!
He took the gun. Tucked it in the saddlebags on the motorcycle. She climbed on behind him.
“Hold on tight,” Jett told her.
Was there any other way to hold on?
She wrapped her arms around him and wondered if he understood. If he fully got just what she was doing…
She was choosing him, despite everything. And Savannah prayed that she was making the right choice.
***
“Savannah Jacobs is gone,” Jennifer Adams said, her hands on her hips and her tight expression giving away her fear. “She was here one moment and gone the next. Her car is still here. Her purse. Her keys. But she’s vanished.”
And that just pissed off Bennett McNeely. “I’ve got a near army of special agents and cops here…and you all lose the woman? The one woman we need?”
They didn’t speak. Most didn’t even meet his stare.
Jennifer did, though. She glared at him. “You were holding back intel. Keeping the Biloxi PD in the dark.”
Yeah, he had held back. He was still holding back. “You don’t have the clearance for this case.” None of those cops did. That’s why he was only giving them the barest of details. And why he was fucking making up the rest.
The van was burning in the distance. That tricky sonofabitch Jett. He’d come back to life far faster than Bennett had anticipated. Next time, they’d restrain the bastard after they killed him.
“I want to start a search for her,” Jennifer declared. “We need to take her picture to the media, we need to alert all family and friends—”
“She won’t go to any family. And from what I’ve been told, you have become her closest friend.” Something he would definitely be using to his advantage. “But, no, we are sure as hell not going to the media. This case is top secret. My team will handle it from here on out. The Biloxi PD needs to step off our turf.”
There were more glares from the local cops. What did he care? They were in his way now. And he couldn’t very well let them see the things that were going to happen with Jett Bianchi.
But Jennifer didn’t back down. In fact, she stepped toward him. Her voice lowered and she snapped, “He was dead.”
Bennett gave her a patronizing smile. He’d perfected that smile over the years. The one that told junior agents and local officers they had no freaking clue. Unfortunately, they often did have a clue—that was why he needed the smile. If you made people think they were wrong, most of them would actually start believing your lies. “Of course, he wasn’t dead. Dead men don’t run away. The guy was injured. The fellows on the scene missed his pulse.”
/>
“Missed it? You mean because you were hauling ass and breaking every crime scene protocol there is?”
His eyes narrowed. Everyone was listening. They’d all gone quiet. He straightened his shoulders. “Don’t you have tickets to write, officer?”
She just laughed. “No, I don’t have tickets to write. For your information, I got bumped to detective yesterday. What I do have is a friend who is missing. I will be finding her, and I don’t give a shit about what kind of rank you want to pull.”
With that, Jennifer turned on her heel and marched away.
He nodded to Agent Lane. The guy immediately stepped after her. Lane knew what he wanted.
Follow her. Keep the cop in sight.
Because Jennifer might find Savannah before they did. Might. But not likely. Not with the ace up his sleeve that Bennett possessed.
He hurried away from the others. Pulled out his phone. The call was answered on the second ring.
“Did you get him?”
“No,” Bennett said. “But he got her.”
Chapter Twelve
He drove them to a condo building, one of those new, high-rises that was being built right near the Gulf of Mexico. But this place—it wasn’t scheduled to open until the spring. There were “No Trespassing” signs posted everywhere.
Jett still trespassed. He revved his motorcycle right into the parking garage. A garage that should have been totally closed and locked down. But when he approached, Jett just leaned near a control panel. He typed in a quick code, and the gate lifted.
He drove them up three levels, and he braked the bike next to an elevator. The engine still vibrated, and her legs felt a little tingly. She was also still holding on to him for dear life.
He killed the engine. Glanced back at her. “You’re safe.”
She didn’t feel safe. “How did you know the code?”
His lips thinned. “Let’s go inside. We can talk there.” He shoved down the kickstand.
She scrambled off the bike. Shoved the helmet at him.
He took it. Stared at it a moment. Then glanced up at her. “You want the gun?”
“I don’t like guns, okay? Considering that the image I get any time someone says gun to me is the image of my father’s bloody head.” The words flew out of her mouth. “I’m not planning to shoot you in the head. So, I don’t think a gun is going to help me much.”