by D. L. O'Neal
"Just as I've always fascinated you. Only you didn't know my identity, did you?" Morne answered his own question. "Of course, you didn't. I took extreme pains to conceal it."
"I knew I'd left someone alive when that second packet arrived." Gabriel appeared relaxed and at ease, just as if he were engaging in a conversation with a friend. Kalesia knew he was deliberately projecting that image, hoping to keep Morne convinced that he was no threat.
Morne laughed, and the sound sent a chill straight through Kalesia. "Oh yes, I'm very much alive. And I intend to stay that way. Pity it can't be the same for you and your whore." Gabriel's jaw clench violently and she silently begged him to ignore the insult.
"You're helpless to save your whore now," Morne stressed the epithet, digging the knife in a little deeper. "Just as you were unable to save yourself twenty years ago. You were helpless, Steele, helpless to prevent the flesh from being sliced from your body. Oh, the screams. My ears rang for days. I wonder if you'll plead and sob this time? I do hope so."
"You compromised our mission and got the rest of the Team killed," Gabriel stated flatly.
From behind the bales, Kalesia wondered about Morne's arrogant confidence. If he knew Gabriel as well as she did, he would have pulled the trigger then and there instead of continuing to boast. But the man had grown very confident over the years.
"It was necessary. You were a threat to my very profitable association with Major Woa. My position is Intelligence made it ridiculously simple to get myself on the Team's as Advisor. I, of course, notified the good Major of your objective. But you survived." Morne looked aggrieved for an instant. "I had to be absolutely certain you were not aware of my involvement."
"I really should have killed you then," Morne conceded, thoughtfully. "Just imagine my astonishment upon learning the woman had run to you for protection. To think that after all these years, your path was again crossing mine...and was again a threat." The gun wavered and in the late afternoon light, there was a flash of gold.
"I remember your ring."
Morne looked surprised. "This?" He raised his hand, highlighting the intricately worked dragon swallowing a tiger.
"Whenever I saw it, I knew a traitor was present." Gabriel said evenly.
Pure fury twisted Morne's face into an unrecognizable mask. "I knew you suspected something. There was a peculiarity about the way you would search the shadows." His face smoothed out, a wide, politician's smile replacing it. "It's just as well I'd decided you were again expendable, now isn't it? You might have recognized the ring when I began campaigning for president."
"Your presence is definitely fortuitous. It will make the mop-up much more tidy than my original plan. You will kill your whore." Noting Gabriel's body tightened subtly, Morne bowed mockingly and substituted, "Ms. Brannigan, for ferreting out secrets better left buried. You, in the process, will be fatally wounded while trying to make her death appear a suicide. Indeed, she will be found with the incriminating evidence clutched in her hand. While you, I'm afraid, are going to be thoroughly implicated in Crump's murder. Having the murder weapon by your prostrate body will make the crowning touch. Nice and neat, no loose ends to come back and haunt me this time."
Kalesia saw Gabriel shift his weight a bit and hook a thumb in his belt. He was watching Morne's eyes, gauging the man's intentions with the deadly accuracy of a born hunter.
"What about your informant in the sheriff's office?" Gabriel reminded Morne.
"Ah, yes. Pompano. I am most disappointed with his performance. No matter," Morne shrugged indifferently. "He was scheduled to die regardless. I think an accident. Yes, a most tragic accident will do splendidly. I haven't had much experience with accidental death. If his goes well, I may utilize it one more time." He shrugged again. "Time will tell which method has the least complications. Now, Mr. Steele, despite my appreciation of your most excellent skills, you have left me no choice." Coolly, Morne aimed.
Kalesia panicked. He was going to shoot and Gabriel was defenseless! Kalesia erupted from behind her barrier, all thought of personal safety abandoned. She snatched up a pitchfork, rushing toward Morne, screaming.
"No, you bastard! I won't let you hurt him anymore!"
"Kalesia, don't! Dammit, woman," Gabriel yelled as Morne, caught off-guard, turned and fired.
With the ease of years of training and practical use, Gabriel's hand slipped to the small of his back. He threw a knife and, in one smooth, continuous motion, launched himself at Morne before the man hit the ground.
Kalesia looked down, astonished, at the stinging pain in her side. She couldn't have been shot. There should be blood, lots of it--and agony, not the sharp burning of a wasp sting. An anguished roar echoed in the barn. Kalesia looked up in time to see Gabriel straddle Morne and begin to throttle the life out of the terrified man.
She couldn't let Gabriel kill Morne. She forgot her injury and hurried over to the enraged man's side. "Don't, Gabriel. Let him go. He's not worth the effort." Gabriel's attention never wavered. Kalesia wondered if he even heard her. Putting her hand tentatively on his forearm, she was very conscious of the corded power unleashed beneath her fingertips.
Gabriel spared one glance at her before returning his attention to Morne. "He tried to kill you," Gabriel gritted, tightening his fingers. The man beneath Gabriel quit struggling, his face acquiring an odd blue tinge.
"You stopped him. Please, let Harley handle him." Softly, she stroked the pulsing muscles. So slowly that it seemed like forever, Gabriel relaxed his grip. Kalesia continued the gentle up and down motion.
Moving as if it required a tremendous physical effort, Gabriel pried his fingers loose, one at a time. Kalesia held his arm, very tightly, afraid he would change his mind. He already looked as though he regretted his decision.
Ignoring the men bursting through the barn doors, Gabriel turned to her, wrapping her in an embrace so tight her ribs creaked and threatened to give under the pressure. Kalesia wouldn't have traded places for anything.
"I wouldn't have stopped for anyone else," he whispered, his voice sounding as dry as desert sand. Gabriel was shaking all over.
"I know," Kalesia replied, running her hands over his strong body, not quite daring to believe he was safe.
"I thought I had lost you. I love you." Gabriel buried his face in the mass of her hair that had worked loosed from its topknot. "God, little witch, how I love you."
Kalesia smiled into the side of his neck, inhaling the unique, earthy scent of the man she loved. "I know."
Gabriel shoved her away to arms-length, his fingers curved over the flesh of her shoulders. He scowled. "What the hell do you mean you know? I didn't know it until minutes ago." He sounded aggravated that she didn't meet his declaration with more appreciation.
Kalesia touched his beloved face tenderly. "You stopped short of killing Morne because I asked. You wouldn't have unless you loved me." She reached up and placed her lips on his. His mouth clung, his tongue sliding between her lips in a desperate claiming.
Gabriel lifted his head. "Just what was that stunt all about?" he demanded, eyes blazing with a mixture of rage and anguish.
"What was all what about?" It had been too good to be true. She should have known he wouldn't let her get off scot-free. Kalesia braced herself for a few hot and heavy minutes. Gabriel did have the right to be somewhat upset, she decided generously. It must have frightened him terribly when Morne fired at her.
"Don't play the innocent with me, Kalesia," Gabriel warned, warming, she thought, all too easily to his theme. "You could have been killed. I had Morne under control. You took a stupid risk in charging him. You could have gotten us both killed. Don't you care about your life?" he ranted. "A few moments more and Harley and Wolf would have been here. In any case, I had matters under control."
"That's why he was getting ready to shoot you?" she asked sarcastically. He wasn't the only one who'd had a scare, Kalesia thought indignantly. If she lived to be a thousand, she would never erase
the sight of Morne's finger tightening on the trigger.
"I had a knife."
"Well, bully for you. A knife against a gun. What good is that?" Kalesia threw her hands up in outraged disbelief. Impossible man!
"I had an offensive strategy in mind. Which, I might add, you totally destroyed. It was a stupid stunt, dammit. I really ought to make sure you can't sit for a week this time. You deserve a beating for what you put me through tonight, and by heaven, I'm going to enjoy every minute of it," Gabriel informed her, his voice growing louder and more irate as spoke.
Kalesia grew tired of hearing Gabriel tell her how foolish she had been to try to rescue him. Besides, that stinging in her side was turning into pain. Yes, it most definitely classified as a pain now, she decided judiciously.
Kalesia gritted her teeth. How did men manage to look so damn stoic when shot? she wondered, as the agony in her side swelled. It must be a defect in the male mentality. Ignoring the furious pacing in front of her, Kalesia lifted her shirt to inspect the damage.
Realizing that he had lost his audience, Gabriel halted in front of Kalesia to continue his berating. Something in her pose broke through his rage. He peered closer. His heart slammed into his ribs as he realized for the first time that the bright pattern on her jonquil yellow shirt was blood.
Gabriel swept Kalesia off her feet, striding past the startled officers.
"What's wrong, Gabe?" Wolf broke away from the knot of men, hurrying to catch up with the other man's hurried stride.
"Kalesia's been shot," he said, his jaw locked in an effort to suppress his agony and rage. "I'm taking her to the hospital."
"Shot!" Wolf opened the barn door wider, barely getting out of the way before Gabriel barreled through the opening. For all his hurry, though, Gabriel was extremely careful not to jar Kalesia.
"I wish someone would listen to me," Kalesia muttered, sounding peevish. "I don't want to go to the hospital."
Gabriel didn't even spare her a glance. "You're going."
"I'm not hurt that bad. It's barely a scratch," she protested, a hint of panic in her voice. "I hate hospitals. A few aspirin and I'll be as good as new in the morning," she told him mulishly.
"Kalesia," Wolf said, coming into the conversation. "You're bleeding. You need to see a doctor."
"Some friend you are," she retorted, her voice gaining spirit momentarily. "Friends are supposed to listen, to help, not force their friends into hospitals against their will. You're on Gabriel's side, not mine." Her bottom lip trembled.
"Don't listen to her," Gabriel advised. "She'll drive a man daft." He slanted a glance down at the suspiciously quiet woman. "You're going to the hospital if I have to bind your hands and feet and bodily toss you into the emergency room," he threatened to hide his surge of relief. His witch was up to fighting with him. She was going to be all right.
"Don't you just love it when he goes all autocratic and stern," Kalesia told Wolf. "Kinda reminds me of Hannibal when I first got him. Of course," she continued acerbically, "I cured Hannibal of that particularly bad habit by neutering him."
Satisfied she'd made her point, Kalesia lapsed into silence.
"I TOLD YOU, Gabriel. I hate hospitals," Kalesia stated several hours later. To emphasize her complaint, she poked one finger against his broad chest. Gabriel captured her hand, refusing to let go even when she tugged.
"Quit whining. The doctor wants to keep you at least overnight. You're staying."
And that was that, she thought mulishly. The master had spoken. A beguiling smile curved her lips. If arguing didn't work, maybe a little sugar instead of spice, would. "But I feel so much better. I'd rather be at home, with you. Besides, I want to find out what happened with Senator Morne." At his wide smile, Kalesia cursed her spurt of truthfulness. The man wasn't above blackmailing her into doing just as he pleased.
"Fluttering your lashes at me won't work," Gabriel told her dryly. "Even though it's just a crease, he wants to be certain you don't go into shock.
"But, Gabriel..." she began.
"No."
"Oh, all right," Kalesia conceded with a decided lack of grace. "But all they'll want to do is stick needles in me and take my last drop of blood, vampires every one of them." She picked up the hand lying on her stomach, kissing the scarred knuckles, pleased when she heard Gabriel's indrawn breath.
"At least tell me what you found out."
Gabriel sat on the side of the bed, his thumb caressing her lower lip with open sensual pleasure. "They said no excitement," he reminded her perversely.
"Trust me. If you don't hurry up and tell me what you found out, things are liable to get downright hot around here," Kalesia threatened darkly.
"Promise you'll give no more arguments about staying here until the doctor releases you?"
"Oh, all right. I promise, not another word." Blast. She knew she shouldn't have made that slip.
He relented. "Harley found out the identity of the man killed two years ago. His name was Daniel Pressman."
"Why was Morne so worried? He'd gotten away with murder for over two years."
"At the time of his death, Pressman was under investigation for smuggling drugs into the county. He used an isolated pasture as a landing strip. We suspect Morne used him to move the drugs from South America. With Pressman's death, a lot of pressure was taken off the case. Harley just didn't have the man power and the DEA had other cases needing immediate attention."
"So," Kalesia said slowly, "Morne feared exposure if the Pressman case was reopened?"
"That's about the size of it."
"How did Morne know so much about your career?"
"You heard him say he was in Intelligence?" Kalesia nodded. "Once our paths crossed, he made it his business to keep a tab on me. The power he garnered enabled him to do so. He was head of the Senate Arms Committee and sat on the committees that handled Central and South American affairs."
Kalesia considered that. "So, not only was he able to make sure you posed no threat to him, but the Senator used the contacts he formed to run an arms and drug empire?"
"That's about it."
"What about Morne now?"
"He's being held on a number of state and federal charges, not the least of which is murder and attempted murder. His arrest has already made the news services. From what I hear, several countries are screaming to get their hands on him. The courts will have to sort out who gets him first. As long as they leave him to rot in a cell, I don't care." Gabriel dismissed Morne with a shrug.
"What about what he did to you, Gabriel?" Kalesia said haltingly.
His eyes hardened. "If he's lucky, he'll rot in prison. If he gets some slippery lawyer to get him off, I'll personally book him an early reservation on hell's express."
"Are you sorry I stopped you from killing him? I know how badly you wanted vengeance." It worried Kalesia that one day Gabriel might hold her actions against her, begin to hate her for not allowing him the revenge he had dreamed of, no, lived for, for so many years.
Gabriel brought her palm to his mouth, pressing a soft kiss directly in the center. He met her gaze squarely. "I have enough blood on my hands in your eyes. I don't need his...not anymore." His tongue traced an intricate pattern, setting Kalesia's nerve endings on fire.
"Even if you had killed him, I would still love you. I did it for you, Gabriel. You didn't need another face in the dark." Her fingers curled at the sensations he was expertly eliciting. He knew her so well.
Gabriel nearly told her that it was one face he would have welcomed seeing each night, but held his peace. Kalesia had already seen him in a violent enough light without adding that to the list. Kalesia's lashes began to drift downward as the painkiller a nurse had given her earlier began to take effect.
"Go to sleep, sweet witch." Gabriel bent and brushed her lips with his.
She struggled to open her eyes. "You won't leave me?"
"I won't leave. When you wake up, I'll be here," he vowed softly, dismissing the hos
pital's regulations without a second thought.
"You never did tell me where you stood on pacifism," Kalesia mumbled.
"I'm more the fire and brimstone, retribution and justice sort of fellow, myself," Gabriel growled, trying to sound stern.
"Mmm. Tell me more." Her eyes closed before she opened them, blinking several times.
"On our wedding night," Gabriel said, a wealth of promise in the simple statement.
"Gabriel? I love you."
Gabriel swallowed the huge knot in his throat. "I love you, too, witch."
Epilogue
LYING ON the bed, arms crossed casually behind his head, Gabriel waited for his wife to come out of the bathroom.
"Wife."
Gabriel savored the sound on his tongue. "Wife." He'd never get tired of saying it. It'd take more than forty or fifty years to get over the wonder of actually possessing a witch. Not many men were so fortunate.
A small chuckle escaped as Gabriel remembered the wedding. He'd be willing to bet a full year's profit from his nursery that it was the first wedding where the bride wore yellow.
Her mother had seemed resigned.
Della Brannigan was, much to his surprise, very like her daughter. He had expected someone cold and distant. He had been prepared to dislike her on sight. Instead he was charmed, and saddened. The reception had been the first time he had actually been alone with her. She appeared at his side, her eye on her daughter as Kalesia, to her mother's bewilderment, was surrounded by a sea of intrigued men.
The small, dainty woman sighed. "At least she had the sense not to have those cats in the wedding party."
Gabriel looked down at the woman. It was obvious that Mrs. Brannigan loved her daughter. She just hadn't the slightest idea of what to do with her. "I explained that being surrounded by so many strangers would upset Cannibal."
She chuckled. "Smart man." Then she cocked her head to one side. "Cannibal? I thought his name was Hannibal."