The Stone Warriors: Damian

by D. B. Reynolds

  “Excellent. We can go ahead and get you set up. McBride will show your fellow agent back to our security office when he gets here.”

  An hour later, Casey was rubbing her sore eyes as she watched people come and go through the lobby. They were running the footage at an accelerated speed, which made the time literally fly by, but it also required more intense concentration to—“What’s that?” she asked abruptly, and froze the image of a man carrying a long zippered case.

  Damian leaned over her shoulder, and she wanted to preen at the sheer heat and presence of the man. He had one hand braced on the back of her chair and the other on the desk in front of her, which effectively bracketed her in his arms. It wasn’t a bad feeling at all. In fact, it was a little too good. She wanted to move, to break the moment, but that would have given too much away, so she only bent forward to study the image more closely.

  “Could that be a gun case he’s carrying?” she asked quietly, though they were the only two people in the room. Espinoza had gotten quickly bored and gone back to his office.

  “It’s the right size and shape,” Damian agreed. “Can you make the image of the case bigger?”

  Casey zoomed in and saw what he’d been looking at.

  “Pelican,” he said, reading the logo on the case. “Is that—?”

  “A well-known long gun case,” she told him. “I suppose it could be something else, but what are the odds?” She dicked with the image some more, then tsked in exasperation. “I can’t get his face on this angle. Let me try . . .” She’d become quite familiar with the security setup by now and switched deftly to a different angle, speeding through the footage until she found the right time stamp. “There,” she said, pointing.

  “Do you recognize him?” he asked her.

  She stared at the man’s face, trying to see it in a different setting. She nodded. “He was there. At the house, when I recovered the Talisman.”

  “All right,” he said, “We have his face. How does that help us?”

  She smiled grimly. “Turns out the Lorenzo folks are quite the voyeurs. They have cameras everywhere. Let’s see if I can follow our guy to the parking lot.”

  “Cool,” he said, and it was everything she could do not to laugh at that word coming from his mouth.

  She switched angles again, bringing up all six exterior cameras and advancing them to the relevant time frame. The gun case made it easy to spot their guy after that, and they followed him to his vehicle, which was the ubiquitous white cargo van. There was a reason bad guys chose those vans. There were so many of them on the road, they simply blended into the scenery. But this one had a license plate, and that she could use. She zoomed in on the plate, then brought up a searchable database on her cell phone and inputted the number.

  “The car is registered to a George Smith,” she read off for Damian’s sake. “No stolen vehicle report. The name’s obviously a fake, but there’s an address about an hour from here. That’s worth checking out. It’s legally registered, which means this might actually be a valid address.”

  “Why would Sotiris do that? It’s too easy to follow.”

  “It’s not Sotiris himself. He hired an agent to purchase the Talisman for him, and we know that agent had a house nearby, because that’s where I stole it from in the first place. So, maybe the sniper lives around here, too.”

  “Are we going there now, or waiting for tonight?”

  Casey considered it. There was always a danger that the bad guys might move, just disappear into the darkness. On the other hand, she was reminded of the other night, and how the defenses on the house had been hardened so much more than she’d expected. With just the two of them, they’d have to know exactly what they were getting into. They’d expect her this time, which would make it even more dangerous, and considering the last attempt had left her running from hellhounds and getting shot. . . . Let’s just say she wanted to be prepared.

  “We’ll head to the safe house first. I want to research the location, at least check out the neighborhood and surrounding streets. I might even be able to get an up-to-date satellite image of the property.”

  “Research,” he said glumly. “I’d like to say it’s a waste of time, but unfortunately I think you’re right. We’ll be outnumbered and outgunned. The only thing you’ll have going for you this time is superior knowledge . . . and, of course, me.” He grinned at her. “So how far to this safe house?”

  “It’s in the same direction as the target, which is convenient. Just a little farther from the city.” She pointed at the map on the cell phone’s screen. Damian leaned forward as if memorizing it, and then glanced at her and jerked his chin upward, before stepping back. Taking the chin jerk—such a guy thing—to mean he’d seen everything he needed to, she logged out of the database on her phone, and then closed all of the video files she’d had open on the Lorenzo system, and erased all trace of her activities there. She hadn’t done anything that was strictly illegal, but Nick always stressed that they should keep their FBI affiliation on the down-low, and she decided that was especially important on a case like this, when she’d used her FBI ID to gain admission under somewhat false circumstances.

  She handed Damian her keys. “You should go ahead to the truck. I’ll deal with Espinoza and join you.”

  “Does this mean I’m driving?” he asked, a teasing glint in his eyes.

  “No,” she said firmly and would have grabbed the keys back, but Espinoza had stepped out of his office, and the spectacle of her trying to get the keys from Damian wouldn’t have done much to reinforce her image as a no-nonsense FBI agent. She leaned closer to Damian and hissed, “If you damage my truck, I’ll stab you in your sleep.”

  He just laughed.

  “I’ll wait for you outside,” he said loudly enough for Espinoza to hear.

  Casey gave him a final warning glare, which only made him grin harder. Great. With every day he spent in this reality, he was becoming more and more confident in his surroundings. What little control she’d had over him was slipping away by the hour.

  “Did you find what you were looking for?” David Espinoza asked from behind her.

  She turned to face him, aware of Damian opening the door to the lobby on his way out to the parking lot. It struck her suddenly that the only sound had been the door itself. For such a big man, he moved almost silently.

  “Agent Lewis?” Espinoza prodded her.

  “I’m sorry,” she said immediately. “I’m already thinking of our next steps. We retrieved an excellent image of the shooter, enough to move our investigation forward in a very positive way. Thank you for your cooperation, and for not making me get a warrant.” She gave him a we’re-in-this-together smile.

  He responded with a dazzling smile of his own, and she realized for the first time that David Espinoza was a very good-looking man. Funny how she hadn’t noticed that when Damian was around.

  “We’re always happy to help law enforcement here at the Lorenzo,” he was saying. And that made her wonder when the Lorenzo had dealt with the police before.

  Fortunately, that wasn’t her problem. She produced one of the business cards Nick had provided for her and held it out. The card was very official, but it would send the caller to the office of Nick’s assistant, who had very specific instructions for how to deal with any queries that came in on that line. All of Nick’s hunters carried cards with the identical number.

  Casey offered her hand and they shook. “Thank you again,” she said sincerely, and would have left it at that, but Espinoza held on a fraction longer than courtesy required.

  “Will you be staying in town?” His brown eyes were warm and interested.

  She blinked in surprise. What was the deal lately? She’d gone a year without so much as an idle flirtation and now suddenly, she had Damian in her bed, and Espinoza stroking his thum
b over the back of her hand.

  “We won’t actually,” she said, emphasizing the we. “We’re leaving right away.”

  “That’s unfortunate,” he murmured. “But if your investigation brings you back, I’d love to show you the city.”

  “I’d enjoy that,” she lied, figuring that was the easiest way to extricate herself from what had become a very awkward situation. “I’ll call you.”

  “Excellent,” he said, giving her another one of those dazzling smiles. She’d bet he slayed ’em left and right with that charm.

  “Cassandra.” She spun in surprise at the sound of her name from a visibly unhappy Damian.

  “Stephens?” She gave him a worried look, thinking something must have pulled him back into the building.

  “We need to get going. The others are waiting for us.”

  “Right,” she said. Confused, but not wanting to give anything away, she turned back to Espinoza. “Thank you again, David.”

  “My pleasure,” Espinoza said, then aimed an arrogant smile over her head at Damian. “Stephens,” he said flatly.

  Damian bared his teeth. “Espinoza,” he said in the exact same tone of voice.

  Casey glanced between the two men, wondering what the hell was going on, but she took advantage of the stare-down between them to make her own escape, circling around Damian and heading for the door. He caught up with her and reached over her head to push open the heavy glass panel. Exquisitely aware of the many security cameras watching their every move, she waited until they were back in her Yukon and on their way out of the parking lot—with her driving—before looking over at Damian and saying, “What was all that?”

  “All what?” he asked, giving her a bland look.

  “At the end, you and Espinoza.”

  “He’s attracted to you.”

  “Uh huh, and—?”

  “And he can’t be trusted. He would use you to gain inside information on our investigation.”

  So it was “our” investigation now. Interesting. “I’ve been doing this a while, you know,” she told him. “I don’t exactly go around spilling my guts to every handsome man who shakes my hand.”

  “So you think he’s handsome?”

  Casey rolled her eyes. “You didn’t think so?” she asked innocently.

  Damian was not amused, which both amused her and, at the same time, made her wonder why he cared. Did he care? Of course he didn’t care. She was simply the only person he knew in this time. Which was fine with her. She wasn’t exactly looking for a long-term commitment either. He was a gorgeous man and terrific in bed. Oh, yeah, and a great fighter. Good enough reasons to keep him around. For now.

  She turned back to the road. Rush hour was in full swing, and she needed to pay attention to traffic. She took the ramp up onto the expressway, then gave him a quick wink. “Buckle up, cowboy. I like to drive fast.”

  Chapter Five

  THE SAFE HOUSE was big and comfortable, with the pool and hot tub that she’d promised Damian. It was good luck that there was a place so close to their target. Nick maintained several safe houses throughout the country, but it was impossible—or impossibly expensive—to have them in every city, even if only the major ones. This one, for example, served the entire Midwestern region, and it was one of the nicer places. It sat on an acre and a half of land, with mature trees all around, providing the privacy necessary to come and go without the neighbors seeing the occupants’ every move. Or noticing that the people who came and went weren’t always the same ones.

  Casey parked and stepped out of the vehicle to admire the broad front porch. She loved porches like this. Because her father was in the armed forces, she and her brothers had grown up in military housing, which hadn’t concerned itself with design or style. At least, not for the non-commissioned officers like her father. Some of the big generals and their families had pretty, palatial homes, but she’d barely been permitted to walk through the front door of those places.

  She stood for a moment longer, until Damian shifted impatiently. “Is there a problem?” he asked, searching the house with a warrior’s eye.

  “No,” she said. “I was just admiring the porch.”

  He looked at it and grunted wordlessly. She didn’t know if that meant he agreed with her, or thought she was wasting time. Frankly, she didn’t care.

  She walked around to the back of the Yukon and opened the hatch. “Let’s get this stuff inside and I can get to work.”

  Together, they gathered their personal duffels, laptops, and the several bags of groceries—Damian really did love to shop. He carried the bulk of it, and she tilted her head in consideration, watching him march up to the porch, laden with bags that he seemed to carry with no effort at all. One of the advantages of having a god on your side, she thought with a smile. At least until he turned and gave her an impatient look that asked, “What the hell are you doing down there?”

  She quickly grabbed the one bag he’d left her, then closed the cargo hatch and hurried up the stairs. “Sorry,” she muttered. “I had an idea.” That was a lie, but he didn’t need to know that.

  They dropped their duffels near the stairs to the second floor bedrooms, and carried the groceries into the kitchen. “I’ll make dinner tonight,” she said, then added, “but don’t get used to it.”

  He shrugged. “I’m fully capable of preparing my own meals. Food is necessary to a warrior.”

  “Good, you can cook tomorrow. There’s a grill outside.”

  She looked up to find him watching her. His lips lifted in a tiny smile when he caught her eye, then he winked. “I’ll carry the bags upstairs.” The words were innocuous enough, but the way he said them. . . . They conjured images of sweaty bodies and tangled sheets, or maybe it was tangled bodies and sweaty sheets.

  Either way, Casey suddenly found it difficult to breathe. She managed to nod in agreement, until he strode from the kitchen, and her lungs remembered how to function. She was getting in over her head when it came to him, and it couldn’t lead to anything good. Why? Well, hell, because he was one of Nick’s statues! An ancient warrior brought back to life with some sort of mysterious destiny. It was all tied up with Nick and his secrets, not to mention the other, equally mysterious, stone warriors, and she had a feeling she wasn’t part of that destiny. Which meant anything between her and Damian would end when the job was finished. Even if they succeeded in recovering the Talisman, which they would, she’d probably never see him again. She’d continue her work for Nick, roaming around the country, and Damian would either remain in Florida with Nick, or maybe travel the world searching out the other statues. It was all very logical.

  So why did the thought make her heart feel as if someone had grabbed it in a fist and squeezed?

  She looked up as he dropped their gear with a thump on the floor upstairs. A moment later, there was the sound of running water, and he called down to her.

  “I’m taking a shower!”

  “Okay,” she shouted back, then spent the next several minutes trying to get the image of a naked Damian out of her head—water running over his sleek skin, every muscle defined and toned, like a textbook of the human body on display just for her. She could go up there. Strip down and step into the shower with him. She remembered doing just that this morning. Sex in the shower. Damian pounding into her against the tile wall. “Damn it, Casey,” she hissed. “Get a grip.”

  It was an effort, but she managed to turn her thoughts to something more practical. Like the dinner she’d promised to make. She’d already put away most of the groceries they’d bought, moving automatically while her thoughts had been focused on her urge to molest Damian in the shower. Going over to the fridge, she opened the door and surveyed the options. They were both hungry. Other than breakfast, they hadn’t had much more than snack food today, and she knew from living with h
er father and brothers that big men needed a lot more fuel than that.

  “Steak it is,” she decided and grabbed the package of three filets. She’d be lucky to eat one, but she’d bet Damian would eat the other two, and probably want more. So . . . side dishes. She turned on the oven, then wrapped four potatoes in foil and popped them inside. Anything left over could be used for breakfast tomorrow. Next, salad. They’d bought a bunch of veggies, but she’d also picked up a prepared salad from the deli section, which would save her some chopping. A quick check told her she’d somehow managed to buy all the fixings they’d need for the potatoes, so she grabbed a dish, mixed up a quick marinade, and added the filets just as the shower went off upstairs.

  Good. She could shower while the potatoes baked, and then the two of them would enjoy a nice, civilized meal together, after which she could get started on her research. That’s why they were there, after all. This wasn’t a private sexcapade getaway, she reminded herself. She marched up the stairs, determined to remember that this mission was serious. Lives depended on her.

  There were four bedrooms on the second level. She found her things, along with Damian’s, in what would be the master suite, with a huge, king-sized four-poster bed that looked like it belonged in a fairy tale, not the gritty safe house of some clandestine government operation. She briefly, very briefly, considered insisting on separate bedrooms, but immediately realized how stupid that would be. They’d been sleeping in the same room since she’d found him, having sex almost that long. Good sex. Fantastic sex.

  Damian walked in from the bathroom, naked, of course. It was his default condition. He had a towel in one hand, rubbing it over his wet hair, and she couldn’t help smiling. The towel was snowy white, his skin golden brown, his body sculpted perfection. She met his eyes, and his smile was just for her. Was that just part of his charm? To make everyone feel as if they were special to him? She sighed. She wasn’t usually this insecure. Hell, she was never this insecure when she was doing her usual breaking and entering, stealing away treasures. Love had done this to her. Made her doubt everything about herself, made her question every word, every—