by Nina Croft
He’d got a message from Kaitlin, letting him know she was safe and away from the city, but that she had sensed someone in her mind. Whoever they were, the two men from the party were still around and hunting. So there was no way Sadie was taking off the reflector device.
He was pretty confident that Lauren would not be expecting the attack at his father’s funeral. Mainly because it was a suicide mission, and she would not understand that. Which meant he still had surprise on his side.
All the same, he needed a contingency plan in place. “Are you still planning to head up to Scotland in the morning?”
“Yes. It’s expected.”
“Good. I want you to set explosives around the burial site.”
Shock flashed across Fergus’s face, and his eyes narrowed. “What?”
“I’ll still try and take them out as we discussed. But if Lauren has something planned, then I blow the place up.”
“You’ll die.”
“We all have to die sometime.”
“Sadie will die as well. You know she won’t leave your side.”
“She’s not coming to Scotland with me.”
“Does she know that?”
“Not yet.” He’d been thinking about this for a while. He knew it could work. “Place enough explosives to take out a twenty-feet radius,” he said. “The grave will already be dug. Place the detonator in the soil close to the head of the grave.”
His father had requested an old-fashioned burial. Earth to earth, ashes to ashes… Ethan would be expected to throw earth onto the casket at the end of the ceremony. The perfect opportunity. He would know by that point if it was his only option.
Fergus was silent.
“It’s the only way,” Ethan said. “I have to do this. Can you imagine a world with Lauren in charge?”
“Then let me kill her now.”
He’d considered that option and abandoned it. “You’ll never get close enough. You said it yourself, she doesn’t trust you. Fergus?” Finally, the other man nodded, and the tension went out of Ethan. One more thing. “Send the staff away. Pay them off. And Fergus, once you’ve set the explosives, you get the hell away from there as well, and you keep moving. I’ve transferred enough money for you to set up a new identity. But hopefully, if this works, there will be no one coming after you.”
“You’re sure this is the only way?”
“You think I want this?” For the first time in as long as he could remember, he had a future to look forward to. Someone to share it with. But not at any price. “That I haven’t gone over it, again and again. I can’t see any other way to be sure.”
Fergus sighed, but then gave a quick nod. “Then it’s done.”
They spoke for a few more minutes, sorting out the details. Afterward, he flicked off the monitor and sat staring at the blank screen. Five minutes later, he got to his feet and headed up the stairs. He stripped off his clothes and slipped under the blankets. Sadie didn’t wake, but she must have sensed his presence—maybe she was dreaming about him—and her body shifted so she lay flush against him. Would her dreams keep her company in the days and years to come? He hoped she wouldn’t hate him.
He lay awake through the rest of the night, his arms wrapped around her, holding her close.
For what he was certain would be the last time.
…
Hands slid down over her skin, dragging her against a hard male body. She didn’t open her eyes in case it was a dream, and she didn’t want it to stop.
Then the present washed over her. She didn’t need the dream anymore, she had the real thing. And she opened her eyes and looked straight into Ethan’s golden ones. She couldn’t read his mind, though. She still wore the reflector device, and hadn’t taken it off since the day she’d arrived in London almost a week ago. But she didn’t need to. His thoughts showed clearly in his face. He loved her.
She tried not to think of the fact that the funeral was tomorrow. Instead, she gave herself over to his lovemaking, reveling in the hard thrust of his body.
Afterward, they lay snuggled under the blankets.
“Did you finish?” she asked.
“Yes. It’s all set up.”
He’d been working since they’d arrived on setting up a program that would delete the Conclave’s files. Timing it for after the funeral would be over.
“I found the files on Josie.”
She sat up, tugging the sheet with her. “You did?”
“I’ve already transferred them to Christa. She’s going to try and work out what was done. See if she can reverse the process.”
“That’s good.”
“She said Josie seems a little better. She’s been getting up, going for walks, and doesn’t burst into tears every few minutes.”
“An improvement, then.”
Sadie hadn’t been calling. She’d thought maybe Josie would settle better without her constantly pushing her sister to remember, which she couldn’t resist doing. But she would call today, because this might be her last chance to talk to her sister. Someone else she had to tell that she loved them.
She’d gone over the security at the funeral. As host, Ethan had access to all the planning—and it was high. But they still had a chance. If they could create sufficient confusion and chaos, they might manage to slip away afterward.
“What are you thinking?” Ethan asked.
“That I’ll maybe call Josie today.”
He wrapped an arm around her shoulder and pulled her close. “I’ve been thinking as well.”
“That doesn’t sound good. Nothing good ever comes of you thinking.”
“Hah. Well, I’ve been thinking maybe you shouldn’t come tomorrow. That you should go back to Uganda.”
She’d been expecting this. “Never going to happen.”
“Fergus thinks Lauren is planning something. She’s too confident, and she’s given in too easily. He thinks she might have infiltrated my people.”
“Then I’d better stay and look after you. You need someone you can trust.”
“Shit, Sadie. I don’t want you to die.”
“I don’t fucking want you to die, either. You don’t have to do this. We could walk away. Come after them another way. Destroy the files and you’ll cut them off. They’ll be powerless.”
“No, we can’t risk it. They’ll have contingency accounts hidden all over the world. It’s the way the Conclave works. Secrets and lies. And you won’t walk away, either. It’s not who you are. This has to end.”
“Then I can help. Once we get farther away from the city, it should be safe to take this thing off.” She plucked at the reflector on her head. “And I can get into Lauren’s mind. Find out what she’s plotting.”
He still didn’t look happy. A frown line formed between his eyes, and she stroked a finger over the spot, rubbing it away. “I won’t leave you.” She wouldn’t let him die alone. There was no point in talking about this more. “I need to go walk Max.”
They were staying in a house Ethan had rented in the suburbs. The transaction had passed through a number of intermediaries. The only person they’d told of the location was Jake. In case everything went wrong, he’d have some idea of where to start the search. Even Fergus didn’t know where it was. He was keeping in contact but hadn’t physically seen them since that first day.
The house had extensive grounds, and she huddled on a bench while Max ran around sniffing and rolling. Finally, he came back to her, laid his head on her knee. He knew something was up. She wasn’t taking him to Scotland with her, just in case… She’d organized someone to arrange his shipment to Uganda along with Josie’s dog, Rosie, who she’d traced, with Ethan’s help. He’d have plenty of room to run around there. And he could play with Kpo.
She remembered the dream. Of them dying at some distant point in the future, trying to give herself faith that they would survive the oncoming encounter. But she couldn’t shift the sense of foreboding that something bad was hovering on the edge of her conscio
usness.
Finally, she rose to her feet and headed back to the house. She found Ethan in the kitchen making coffee. He handed her a mug and she took it to the table and sat down. “Thanks.”
He stood leaning against the counter, watching as she drank.
This week—despite the darkness hanging over them—had been the happiest of her life. Even without getting into his head, she felt closer to Ethan than she had to anyone. Even Josie, growing up. He seemed to have cast off the bitterness about his mother. Seemed at peace with his decision.
“What’s going through that mind of yours?” he asked.
“I was wondering… If we succeed, will you try and find your mother?”
He raised a brow as though it was the last thing he expected. “With the files destroyed, I’m not sure I can. I’ll lose all the contacts which would make it possible to trace her. It won’t be easy. She’ll have hidden herself well.”
He’d actually avoided the question. “But will you try?”
“I have to, though, I’m not even sure I want to find her. I’ve come to terms with what she did—I even understand why—but a huge part of me will always feel betrayed. I owe her nothing. Having said that—she’s my mother.”
“And your sister—if she even exists—is innocent of all this.”
“I know. And however well my mother has hidden herself, I expect she spends almost every moment looking over her shoulder, expecting them to catch up with her. I can stop that. Put her mind at rest. Let her know she and my sister are safe. That no one is coming after them.”
“Good. I think you’ve made the right choice.” She yawned. She’d been sleeping well, better than she could remember. Deep dreamless sleeps. But suddenly a wave of exhaustion washed over her. “Whoa,” she said.
He reached across and took the cup from her hand, placed it on the table. Then he leaned down and cupped her face.
“Thank you for the past week,” he said. “You don’t know how it’s changed my life. You’ve made what I have to do both easier and immeasurably harder.” He kissed her lips, his face going in and out of focus as he drew away.
“What have you done?”
“What I needed to.”
Panic and sadness gripped her. She could feel the strength draining from her limbs, the darkness nudging at her mind. “Please don’t do this.”
“It’s already done.”
He leaned across and picked her up, sank down into the chair with her cradled against him. He stroked her hair and murmured in her ear, “I love you.”
The last thing she heard was the slow thud of his heart.
Then the darkness engulfed her.
…
He laid her down on the bed and kissed her forehead.
She was hopefully going to hate him for this. That was better than loving him. He pulled the sheet up over her. Then he went downstairs to the office and called Fergus. “It’s done.”
Afterward, he called Jake, trying to curb his impatience while the call was linked through a number of relays, rendering it untraceable. Five minutes later, Jake appeared on the screen. “What is it?”
“I’m heading off to Scotland within the hour. I’m calling to let you know Sadie will not be coming with me.”
Jake’s eyes narrowed. “Where is she?”
“Right now? Unconscious in bed.”
“You’ve drugged her.”
“Do you think she would have stayed if I asked her nicely?”
“Hell, no.” He ran a hand through his hair. “You don’t think you’re coming out of this alive?”
“Let’s just say I can’t guarantee it.”
“She’s going to be super pissed.”
“It’s better than being dead. I’ve arranged a plane for her once this is over. You once told me to look after her. I’m handing back that responsibility. Take care of her for me.”
And he closed off the call before Jake could say any more. He went back to the bedroom, sat on the edge of the mattress, and watched her. Trying to imprint her face on his mind. Max lay at the bottom of the bed, whining softly. “Sorry, boy,” he murmured, “but it’s better this way.”
About an hour later, the bell at the gate rang. After glancing at the security screen by the bed, he pressed the button to let the car in. He’d asked Fergus to select two of his most trusted men. He headed down the stairs and reached the front door as they were getting out of the car.
“She’ll wake in about twelve hours,” he told them, and handed them an envelope. “Give her this—it’s the details of her flight. Take her to the airport, but don’t let her leave here until midnight tomorrow.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Do not harm her. Stun her if you have to, but nothing more.”
They nodded. He couldn’t leave without one last look. She lay on her back, a frown on her face even in sleep. Then he turned and walked away.
The drive to Scotland took six hours. Darkness was already falling when he arrived at his father’s estate in the Highlands. He hadn’t actually been back here since his mother’s supposed death. This was the place he’d thought of as home, growing up. And returning had been too painful.
The house stood on the edge of a loch, with a stone wall all around and vast grounds where he’d ridden as a child. The gates stood open, and he had a feeling of foreboding. Fergus had arranged the security; they should have been in place.
He slowed the car, but otherwise nothing appeared out of place. All the same, he pulled to a halt and punched Fergus’s number into his cell. There was no signal and he swore softly.
He reversed the car, meaning to turn in the road and head away from here. Because something was very wrong. He’d go hole up somewhere until he could contact Fergus.
As he was about to turn, a figure stepped into the middle of the road. Tall, dark haired, in the darkness he couldn’t make out the color of his eyes, but he was betting they were deep, dark blue, and he cursed under his breath.
He could run him down, but he spent a moment too long making the decision. A blinding pain filled his mind, and everything went black.
When he awoke, he was in a chair in the dining room, his arms and legs tied. His head ached but it was fading with each second. The house was silent. Maybe he should have expected this. But he hadn’t thought Lauren would make a move until after the funeral. She wanted to take control of the Conclave, and she would need their respect. His father had been an honored member. He deserved an honorable funeral. Something had obviously tipped her, forcing her to move early.
The door opened and Lauren entered. She wore a fitted black skirt suit and black heels. She strolled across the room, coming to a halt in front of him, lips pursed as she stared down.
“I am genuinely sorry that it has come to this,” she murmured.
“They won’t follow you if you murder me,” he said.
She shrugged. “I don’t plan on them knowing. It will be an unfortunate accident. Or maybe suicide. The pressure got too much. Or maybe you’ll just disappear. You’ve played into this yourself. Hiding away.”
“Why?” he asked.
Though he knew. Lauren had always been ambitious. And his father had always blocked her more vicious activities. No doubt this was her way of making sure he wouldn’t continue the family tradition. Thank God Sadie hadn’t come with him.
“You could say I was made an offer I couldn’t refuse. Not that I wanted to. Meet my new…friends.”
Two men entered through the open door. He recognized one of them from the video. The other one could have been his brother. They came to stand at the edge of the room, but didn’t speak.
“They paid me a visit the day after the annual conference and offered their unique brand of support in exchange for my assistance in locating you and your new friends.”
“Do you have any clue who you are working with?” For that matter, did he? Sadie thought they were from the future. Could that be the case? They’d lost the black uniforms they’d worn at the confe
rence and were now dressed in black slacks and matching shirts, standard wear for Conclave security, no doubt so they would merge in.
“No,” Lauren replied. “They’re not very forthcoming. But frankly, at this point, I don’t give a damn. I’ll take any help I can get. And they were around to tell me that your friend Fergus wasn’t being entirely honest with me. That you, in fact, were planning my untimely demise tomorrow.”
“Is Fergus alive?”
“I presume so. I haven’t seen him since yesterday.”
He looked at the two men. “They’re telepaths?”
“Yes. Which means, lucky for you, we don’t have to torture you to get the information they require.”
“And that would be?”
“The whereabouts of your friends.”
Shit, he tried to blank his mind but knew it was too late. And probably impossible.
One of the men turned to Lauren, his back to Ethan, so he couldn’t make out the words. She nodded, pulled a cell phone out of her pocket, and spoke quietly.
He ignored Lauren, faced the second man. “Leave Sadie alone. She’s no risk to you whoever you are.”
The man’s face held no expression. “We can’t.”
“Why?” Maybe if he kept them talking, something would happen. How could he reach them? Prove that whatever threat they believed she posed, didn’t exist.
“The threat is real,” he said. Had they got everything from his mind? Would they tell Lauren about the explosives? But the one who had spoken gave a slight shake of his head. “Not our business,” he murmured.
Lauren ended the call, slipped the phone in her pocket. “Well, the team are on their way.”
A scream rose up inside him. He’d killed her. She’d still be unconscious. Vulnerable. And the two guards he’d left would not be able to hold out against whatever force Lauren sent. They’d been there to stop Sadie leaving. He’d never envisaged an attack. For a few seconds, he struggled against his bonds, but it was pointless. He closed his eyes, forced his mind to order. All he could hope for now was that he could take down the Conclave. Ensure Sadie’s death wasn’t for nothing.
“Do you have what you need?” Lauren asked.