by Jory Strong
He should investigate the garage and determine if the man he had transmuted into tiny particles had left anything of himself behind—a car, a phone, something written down. But to do so would mean a longer separation from Savannah. And if he transported to the garage and then to the cabin he would drain the Ylan stones of energy that might be necessary for their defense. The stones weren’t native to Earth—each use came at an increased cost.
Frustration howled through Kye. Acceptance. He needed a co-mate. Not just for the continuance of his line but in order to keep Savannah safe. He didn’t try to fool himself into believing she would agree to return home with him before the matter of The Ferret was resolved.
Jeqon returned to the work station where Savannah’s DNA was being decoded. He adjusted the equipment, readjusted it, his body language filling Kye’s with icy dread. There was sympathy in Jeqon’s eyes when he finally looked up again and met Kye’s. “She is not a match for you.”
Pain ripped through Kye with the words. Pain such as he had never known. Pain so intense it took all of his control to keep from falling to his knees.
His mind and body screamed in denial. His heart felt as though a fist had plunged into his chest and encircled it in a fierce death grip.
For long moments he couldn’t speak. Couldn’t think.
* * * * *
Savannah woke to sunshine and deliciously aching muscles, to anticipation and then confusion when she realized Kye was gone. Her first action was to roll out of bed and check to make sure the truck was still there. Her second was to dress and try to track him.
She got nowhere. Which had her frowning and cursing and doubting the evidence of her own eyes.
Goddamn! He couldn’t have vanished into thin air!
She stomped back into the cabin and made herself some coffee. Frustrated that a skill she’d developed and honed when she lived on the Bar None and had to chase down stray cattle seemed to have disappeared along with Kye.
Shit! She couldn’t believe it.
Then again, he’d said he was a bounty hunter and she’d guessed he was pretty damn good at it. There was comfort in thinking maybe her inability to spot his track wasn’t about her being bad but about him being excellent.
Savannah frowned as she looked at the tree and scrub-covered foothills framed in the window over the sink. Not that she’d had an endless string of lovers, but she’d never had one fuck her then decide to go commune with nature while she slept off the effects of great sex.
She went out to the truck and retrieved one of the ice chests they hadn’t bothered with the day before, remembering as she did so just why they hadn’t brought it in. Because they’d been immersed in a fog of lust.
Savannah rubbed her shoulder, her cunt spasming when her hand encountered the place Kye had bitten her more than once. God! How had he known that would do it for her?
She’d grown up on a ranch where the sight of stallions covering their mares had fed some fantasies—fantasies she’d definitely experienced with Kye. Man, she should have roped a man with a long mane of hair before!
A smile followed the thought. Then a laugh. If he was going to take to wandering off, she just might have to tie him to the bed. Oh yeah, now there was a fantasy to turn into a reality and savor for a lot of nights to come.
She wouldn’t need the porno DVDs on nights when she was horny or stressed and all alone. All it would take would be memories of her vacation with Kye.
She retrieved the other cooler and put the food from the ice chests into the refrigerator, glad there was solar power and propane to make the cabin more than just a place to throw down a sleeping bag and camp. She poured some coffee and slathered cream cheese on a bagel. Polished both off within minutes then couldn’t help herself, she went back outside, determined to find Kye’s trail.
It ended in the same place it had before. In a grove of trees in back of the cabin.
She moved past the spot. Worked in ever increasing concentric circles until she was sweaty and tired of all the walking.
There wasn’t a trace of him. And there should have been.
She’d even tried to hide her own track in places, and she’d managed it for short distances. But it was nearly impossible to cover as much ground as she’d covered, as much as Kye must have covered to be nowhere in sight—and leave no trace at all.
Savannah sat down on a smooth rock, frustrated, confused. Not sure whether or not she should be hurt, suspicious or worried by Kye’s disappearance.
Men! It was coming back to her now why she didn’t have a permanent one in her life.
She rubbed the spot over her heart. Grimacing as she did it and honest enough with herself to admit that rather than make her feel better, her attempt at humor had fallen flat and made her feel worse.
Yeah, she knew a night of wild sex did not make for a genuine connection between a man and a woman—the cowboys she’d grown up with were a walking, talking, fucking testament to that truth. But Kye…
Damn… It didn’t even make sense to her, but he seemed so right.
Savannah sighed. Well, he was gone and she couldn’t do anything about it. He’d just better hope he didn’t encounter a bear or a mountain lion since he’d made sure she couldn’t come to his rescue. But if he expected her to sit around the cabin waiting—well then, he had a rude awakening in store for him.
She stood and headed toward the cabin, forcing her mind away from Kye and sex and onto the events of the previous day. She grinned. It wasn’t like she’d had a lot of time to contemplate what had happened. But now… Now she could actually think. Now, because Kye wasn’t around to distract her, she could move from sex goddess to detective.
Savannah snickered at her own mental ramblings. But hey, if she couldn’t laugh at herself, where did that leave her?
She scribbled a brief note for Kye telling him she was heading to town and would be back. And as the cabin disappeared from sight in the rearview mirror, she even decided she’d splurge and buy him some clothes—not that she intended he’d actually spend much time in them once they were both back at the cabin. But while she liked her men to be hard-working guys, she liked them to smell good and wear clean clothes, and he didn’t have anything but the clothes on his back, so to speak. Which brought her full circle to The Ferret’s car being blown up near The Dive and Kye’s sudden appearance.
He’d told Krista he was following her, so that meant he probably had a car somewhere near The Dive—which wasn’t useful at all since she had no intention of returning to the scene. At least today.
Savannah sighed, her eyebrows drawing together in concentration. Why a bomb? Why a car bomb in particular?
Was it supposed to say terrorist?
She didn’t think so.
The Dive wasn’t a cop or military hangout. It wasn’t a “destination” for tourists. It was a dive. Literally.
She nibbled on her bottom lip as she replayed the conversation she’d had with The Ferret.
I’ve got a tip for you.
I’m listening.
Not here. It’s too big to talk about over the phone. You break it wide open, the brass will be kissing your ass and begging you to take a detective shield.
Where?
You know a place called The Dive?
Sure.
I’ll see you there.
The conversation made her think of a big-time crime. Something local. Maybe even something ongoing. Nothing in his words made her think terrorist plot. Hell, he hadn’t even sounded really scared. Nervous, yeah, almost like he had a hustle going. He sure hadn’t sounded freaked out in a somebody-wants-me-dead way.
So had he seen his car become a smoking wasteland of metal and glass and expensive leather? She bet he had.
Savannah tried to get into The Ferret’s head, think like he would have thought. She tried to remember whether or not she’d seen the Beamer when she showed up at The Dive. She couldn’t.
Damn, so much for making detective. She should have looked for i
t. But she’d been distracted by Krista being there. And she’d still been thinking about the run-in with Vice and about the kid, Holland. Not to mention feeling guilty for not coming completely clean with the captain. Plus she’d assumed The Ferret was already there somewhere. She’d figured on him arriving early, scoping the place out and coming to her when he was ready.
She sighed. Obviously she’d misread how rattled he was. She’d misjudged the situation and he’d probably freaked when he saw Krista. In his mind there was suddenly an unknown in the equation and The Ferret was the cautious type. Savannah knew that about him.
Krista didn’t have cop written on her in any way, shape or form, so he had most likely hung around, observing, waiting, working up his courage or trying to figure out what to do next. Savannah wanted to believe he hadn’t watched someone turn his car into a death trap and then just left without warning her. She’d like to think she had a better read on people than that.
The Ferret was a hustler, a gambler. A guy whose lucky break was always right around the corner.
He wasn’t someone she’d want as a personal friend. But she’d met him for the first time when she was on patrol and he’d flagged her down to tell her there was a bum bleeding to death in an alley. A lot of people had probably walked by and seen the same sight—and kept on walking.
So if she ruled out the bomb being planted while his car was parked down from The Dive. What did that tell her?
She didn’t know. But a chill slid up her spine as she wondered just when her apartment had been searched. Before the bomb, or after?
She’d have to tell the captain about the search when she checked in with him. Then she’d have to pray he didn’t get in touch with her uncles and brothers. And Gramps. God save her if Gramps came barreling into this mess with his rifle.
With a sigh she parked in front of a phone booth and got out of the car. The captain answered on the first ring.
* * * * *
It was a shock for Kye to realize how little difference there was between him and Lyan. How at his core, he too was willing to bend and even break the rules.
He would simply remain on Earth and make Savannah his wife. And though there would be no children, there would also be no need to share her.
As long as he fulfilled his obligation to the Council and continued to aid the scientists in whatever manner they required, there was no reason for any but Jeqon to know of his involvement with Savannah.
A heavy sickness rolled into Kye’s chest, expanding and coiling in his stomach with the memory of the bomb that had exploded as Savannah and Krista approached The Ferret’s car, of the sniper who had lain in wait for Savannah.
His work for the Council scientists sometimes required him to be gone for long periods of time. The thought of returning and finding Savannah had been killed… Pain returned to steal Kye’s breath. He pushed it back and tried to find a solution.
If she knew what he was, why he’d come to her world, he could keep her with him. He could keep her safe.
And if the Council learned he had broken their rules… It could mean his exile from Belizair, though he would be made an example of and sent somewhere other than Earth. Or he might be restricted to his home planet until Savannah aged and died on her own.
Either way it would bring dishonor to his clan-house. Not as much as it once would have because many would understand the desperation he felt, the desire for a measure of happiness, a mate. But it would still bring dishonor, not just to himself but to his family.
And what of Savannah? What life would he be offering her?
“All is not lost,” Jeqon said, interrupting the agonizing flow of Kye’s thoughts. “She carries the Fallon marker. Both a Vesti and an Amato are needed in order to claim her.”
Kye’s gaze met Jeqon’s. The sympathy remained, but there was also a measure of excitement in the Amato’s eyes. Hope flared to life in Kye, along with fear. “You have found an Amato match?”
“No. But the good news is that with each match we discover, we gain information. Already we are starting to see patterns, hints as to which clan-houses might hold the most likely candidates.”
Jeqon moved to where Kye was standing, placed his hand on Kye’s shoulder in a gesture of support. “I will return to Belizair and begin searching among the Amato first. If a match is found, I will argue your case. The female already knows you, has already accepted your presence in her life and bed. That alone should add weight to the wisdom of choosing you as a co-mate.”
“Or viewing me as an enemy and offering a complaint to the Council in order to make sure I am well out of Savannah’s life.”
Jeqon’s hand tightened on Kye’s shoulder in acknowledgement of the truth of Kye’s statement. “Share what you know of her with me. Share some of what has happened between you so I can take the images with me to Belizair.”
Kye nodded, seeing the wisdom of Jeqon’s request as he documented the danger she was in by replaying those moments outside The Dive, the trip to The Ferret’s ransacked apartment, the encounter with the policemen, the sniper, the searching of Savannah’s apartment. He stopped short of sharing anything beyond the first rush of heat when she’d reached for him. When her eyes blazed with a desire every bit as hot as that of the Vesti mating fever.
Kye closed the curtain allowing Jeqon to view his memories and Jeqon laughed. Ah, just when it was getting good!
Find your own female.
Jeqon grinned. “Believe me. I am working on it and looking forward to it, though I am in no hurry. Unlike many of those from Belizair, I enjoy Earth and the humans. I would love nothing more than to be able to explore as you have done.”
Kye sighed. “Despite the urgency of our mission here, it has been a great adventure and I will miss being here. Guarding Krista was a true learning experience and I can hardly wait for Lyan and Adan to secure their mate so I can hear the story and understand why she moved around so often. I would say she was being hunted, but…” He shrugged. “If that was so, it would make no sense for Lyan and Adan to allow her to drive away after mating with her the first time.”
From another part of the house, voices sounded. Jeqon said, “Unless you wish to explain your presence or risk gaining another assignment, you had better return to…”
“I found her in Reno, Nevada.” Kye flashed an image of the cabin along with its coordinates to Jeqon. “You will leave for Belizair now?”
“After you use the transport chamber.”
* * * * *
“Holden, you know why Ricky Nowak would be sending you an envelope full of chips from the Easy Times Casino?”
It took Savannah a second to translate Ricky Nowak into The Ferret. Another to get her head around what the captain was asking and to answer, “Not a clue. How much money?”
“Forty-five dollars worth. Three reds. Three yellows. The Easy Times uses ten-dollar chips like they do in Connecticut.”
“Was there a note?”
“There was nothing. Envelope walked in by messenger service. Your name on the front. Nowak’s fingerprints on the chips. And you’re saying it doesn’t mean anything to you?”
Savannah closed her eyes and tried to come up with an image of the Easy Times Casino but drew a blank. She didn’t do a lot of gambling, not in casinos anyway. At home, sure, she’d join her brothers and the ranch hands for poker.
The chips were easier to envision. Most Nevada casinos went straight from red five-dollar chips, nickels, to quarters, green twenty-five-dollar chips. Still, she could picture the yellow chips The Ferret had sent to her. They’d be dimes.
He’d sent her nickels and dimes. Why?
“Holden, you going to answer my question anytime this century?” the captain’s voice jarred her from her thoughts. “You sure this envelope doesn’t mean anything to you?”
“The casino isn’t ringing any bells with me. But the chips…I keep coming back to them being nickels and dimes, which doesn’t make sense if you think about it as a saying. If some
thing’s nickel-and-dime it’s small time, but The…Ricky said the information he had was too big to talk about over the phone.” She sighed. “Maybe if I could come in, spend a little time—”
“Holden, I am ordering you back to wherever you’re holed up. Right now and stay there. Check in again day after tomorrow. Before noon. Got it?”
“Yes, sir.”
He hung up before she could tell him about her apartment being searched. She hesitated then shrugged, deciding against calling a second time. Day after tomorrow was soon enough, especially since she wasn’t going anywhere near her place or The Ferret’s.
She took a minute to check her voice mail. A couple of hang-ups. Maybe The Ferret, but no way of knowing for sure. Savannah’s stomach tightened. Or maybe the underage prostitute. Before the guys from Vice arrived on the scene, Holland had pocketed Savannah’s card when her friend wasn’t looking.
Savannah dropped the receiver in the cradle, her good intentions to follow orders taking a detour. She’d do a drive-by of the residential hotel where Holland lived. Just in case.
Chapter Seven
Savannah was gone!
Kye’s stomach roiled as he paced the cabin in gut-churning disbelief, returning again and again to the note she’d left him. Have to check in with the captain. Be back soon.
The Ylan stones on his wrist pulsed in time to the fast beat of his heart, in wild synchronicity to the rage of his emotions. It was all he could do to keep from transporting to her location. But such an option was unavailable since she had yet to remain in one place and he could hardly explain his sudden appearance in her truck.
He forced a deep breath. Tried to calm himself. At least the link formed when he injected her with the serum of his kind provided information about her whereabouts, along with some assurance she was alive and well.
Kye studied the note again, trying to read her emotions from it, her thoughts. Uncertainty plagued him.
He realized now that it had been foolish not to take her truck. It had not occurred to him she would try to track his movements. But the evidence had been there for him to see upon his return. Her footsteps to the spot he had transported from. The ever-widening circle as she’d tried to determine where he had gone.