Dangerously Yours

by Lark Brennan

  Another dead end. “Isn’t there anything we can do?”

  His attention shifted back to the monitors. For several seconds he studied the maps. “You can give me access to your computer system and let me analyze your data. All of it.” he said.

  “Fine. You can fly back to Tortola with me. How long will it take you to get ready to go?”

  “I’m not going anywhere. There’s a covert government agency that thinks I’m dead and I plan to keep it that way.”

  “So you’re going to spend the rest of your life in Fat Dog Harbor? If they think you’re dead then they aren’t looking for you, are they?”

  “It’s my head, not yours. I can download the data from here. Take it or leave it.”

  Neither. Her gut told her if he didn’t come with her, he was going to blow her off even if he got critical data from the Foundation’s system. No way was she giving up info without getting his full attention in finding Poseidon and the others. “So you’re an expert on whale physiology, too?”

  His eyes narrowed. “No. I’m an expert on the damned energy.”

  “Then how are you going to interpret Poseidon’s physical response to whatever happened just before he vanished?” She stepped forward and locked eyes with him.

  “A couple of whales aren’t worth getting killed over. Sorry, princess, but if you want my help you’ll have to come to me.”

  Okay, she shouldn’t use her knowledge that he was a revenant against him, but he wasn’t giving her any choice. “When was the last time you set foot on Fat Dog?”

  “About an hour ago.”

  “Not the dock, I mean the island. The actual land. Do you go into the town for dinner? Have a girlfriend you visit? Meet up with buddies at the bar?”

  “What’s that got to do with anything?” he asked warily.

  “Just curious.” Bodie had clearly been wary of the Obeah woman’s power, and that could mean the old woman conjured spirits or jumbies that harassed him. She didn’t know much about revenants, but she knew that without a psychic shield, a revenant like Bodie would be vulnerable. And who knew what other entities lurked on the shore waiting for him. Staying on the water was one way to avoid the problem.

  He glanced away and stared at the monitor. “I’ve been to St. Vincent and Bequia. It’s not as though I’m trapped here.”

  But his stance told a different story.

  “Look, Bodie, if you come with me we can be in Tortola tonight and, who knows, maybe solve this mystery in a couple days. Then I’ll bring you back here and you can go on with your peaceful life in paradise.”

  He didn’t move but she sensed his resolve waiver.

  “As long as you sit here, all you can do is watch the maps of your sensor. Come with me and do some field work for a change.”

  Seconds ticked by. It took all her willpower to remain silent and wait.

  “Okay,” he said finally. Only his eyes remained troubled. “I’m in but only if you agree to my conditions.”

  “What are they?”

  “I sail the Talos to Tortola and live aboard. I don’t mingle with your team unless I choose to.”

  “Fine. When can you be in Road Town?”

  “That’s not all,” he said. “You don’t have to pay me a salary or expenses, and since I won’t be on your payroll, I can leave anytime I want without owing you an explanation.”

  “No problem.”

  “And I get unlimited access to all your equipment and data,” he said. “And to your expertise.”

  “Do I get access to all of your equipment and data?”

  “No.”

  “We’ll try this partnership your way to start out,” she said. “If I find out you’re not being up front with me…”

  “I won’t lie to you.”

  With no choice but to agree, she nodded. “How quickly can you get to Road Town?”

  “Two days if the wind and weather cooperate. How do we communicate?”

  They exchanged ComDev codes. On her way out she retrieved her laptop, then paused at the foot of the companionway.

  “How did you first discover delphic energy?” she asked, confident she already knew the answer.

  Bodie planted his hands on his hips. “I felt it.”

  “Of course.” She climbed the stairs with a knowing smile on her lips.

  Chapter Four

  What kind of cold, heartless motherfucker used his own sister for bait? Mark Durand sipped his scotch. Today marked a new low, even for him.

  The purple glow of the sun sinking into the Pacific Ocean reflected off the cream colored walls of his penthouse office, turning them lavender as night fell.

  Mark sat in front of the window, gazing at the twinkling lights below. The odd energy activity in the Caribbean had been low on his list of priorities until Lex called him in panic over the disappearance of the whales. Since then he’d pored over the downloads from the last six months and tried to connect the red energy to other incidents, hoping to find a scientific explanation for the shifts and spikes. And he’d come up with zip.

  The orphic energy on the islands from Cuba to Martinique was heating up, to use Bodie’s terms, and too quickly for a natural explanation. The intel he’d gotten from Santo Domingo had been confirmed. Among the Santeria and Voodoo practitioners, rumors of a great power rumbled in the islands, a specter with the ability to raise the dead, hold fire in his hand, and destroy his enemies with his mind. An eyewitness described him as seven feet tall, with black hair to his shoulders and yellow eyes that could turn a man to stone. The height was an exaggeration, otherwise Mark recognized his old enemy. Tolian—the Sentier who controlled the Brazilian Source. If there was any other way to draw the master of the Dissemblers into the open, Mark would have gladly risked his own life to lure the bastard. But he’d blown his one and only chance to take the S.O.B. by surprise and so it was time to finally play his ace—Bodie Flynn.

  The screen in front of him glowed with a chart of the Caribbean. Maybe Mark should feel guilty about using the guy, but he didn’t. Flynn owed him his life. Mark had paid dearly for bringing him back from the dead and it was time to settle up on his debt.

  The map on the screen showed the Talos sailing north. It also showed Lex had arrived in Mustique. The plan was in motion.

  Tolian had tried to recruit Bodie himself once and had sent his minions on numerous other occasions. There was no doubt that Dissemblers had been behind the attack that had killed Bodie the first time, and once he resurfaced things would heat up quickly.

  Until then there was nothing to do but wait. Unfortunately, Mark’s few dubious virtues didn’t include patience. He rose, stretching his long legs and flexing the stiff muscles in his back.

  His cell phone buzzed and he checked the screen. Adrien. Adrien Durand, a.k.a the Durand Sentier, a.k.a Commander-in-Chief of the Protectors. And his cousin.

  Mark answered. “Bodie’s moving. Lex is in Mustique before heading back to Road Town to join her team on the Ariel.”

  “I must have missed your call,” Adrien said. “You briefed her, didn’t you?”

  “No.”

  “Damn it, Mark, you can’t send her in blind. She’s been trained to follow orders.”

  “Any slip-up that alerts the traitor in our ranks and Lex and Bodie are dead. Right now, she’s focused on her whales and he’s absorbed with the orphic energy shifts. I’m keeping an eye on them and can move in if I see trouble.”

  “I don’t like keeping her in the dark.”

  “Me neither, but I see no other choice.” Leaning on the wall, he gazed into the twilight sky. “I know both Lex and Bodie. Neither will give up until they figure out what’s going on.”

  “And you’re still convinced Dissemblers are behind the whales’ disappearance?”

  “All I know is someone’s fucking with the orphic energy in the Caribbean big time. If not Tolian, who?”

  The question hung in the air. The covert war between the Durand Protectors and the Dissemblers of the
Brazilian Source had been going on for over two centuries. As long as the Dissemblers incited violence, chaos, and depravity to enslave ordinaires, the Protectors’ mission would be to stop them.

  “She deserves to know what she’s up against. Bodie, too.”

  The muscles in Mark’s back twitched, warning of worse things to come. “Objection noted, A. Got to run now.”

  “What about…”

  He cut him off. “Later.” His thumb hit the end button.

  He’d waited too long and his body hummed with the need for release. He punched a number in his cell and waited.

  On the third ring a woman answered, her voice low and seductive. “May I help you?”

  “I’m sending a car in half an hour,” he said.

  “Would you like anyone in particular, Mr. D?” Of course she recognized his voice. They’d never met in person but he paid her very well for the means to satisfy his proclivities. Her business thrived on personal service and discretion, after all, and he was a repeat customer.

  “Someone new. Preferably tall.” He didn’t have to elaborate. The woman she sent would be professional, willing, and expensive. Still, he hated the curse that could only be appeased with his brand of sex. And when he was finished, the woman would remember nothing of him or what happened behind closed doors. Unfortunately he would not be so lucky.

  Chapter Five

  The sun beat down on the deck of the Marine Mammal Research Foundation’s boat, the Ariel, as it sat tied up to the commercial pier in Road Town Harbor, Tortola. A cruise ship loomed behind, dwarfing the one-hundred-sixty-five–foot vessel Lex had called home for the past two years.

  “Tell me again why we’re waiting for this guy?” David Latham muttered, his tanned forearms resting on the boat’s railing as he gazed out of the harbor toward Salt Island. As usual, every strand of his sun-streaked blond hair lay neatly in place. They were exactly the same height—six feet, no change—which put his broad shoulders at the same level as hers and reminded her she was much taller than most women.

  “Dr. Flynn has detected energy activity in the Trench that could account for Poseidon’s signal going dead.” This was her story and close enough to the truth, although David had seen the whale vanish in real time. “Mark also thinks we can use Dr. Flynn’s sensors to measure changes in water temperature and pollution levels from up to a thousand miles away.” That was bullshit to divert his attention to his favorite subject—the effect of water temperature and pollution on the health and survival of bottlenose dolphins.

  The furrow in David’s brow did little to mar his aristocratic good looks. “Seeing is believing,” he said. “Have you thought any more about the conference? If we’re going, we need to book the flights and hotel.” His fingers brushed her arm and she eased away.

  “You go. I should stay here with the team. You’re the one they want to hear, not me.” The comment was true but the bitterness in her delivery surprised her. Was she still humiliated by the debacle of her one and only presentation to the International Society of Marine Science?

  The theme of that conference had been How Do Animals Think? A subject right up her alley. Armed with thousands of hours of observation and data collected over five years, she’d arrived in Miami prepared to enlighten and inspire her audience. The laughing was bad enough. The contempt, liberally expressed during the Q&A, had devastated her credibility.

  David didn’t argue or try to talk her into going. She was grateful for that.

  “Hungry?” he asked. “I haven’t been to Le Cabanon in a while and wouldn’t mind the walk. My treat.”

  Normally she’d jump at a late lunch at the island’s French bistro. Today, waiting for Bodie made her restless. “Thanks. I ate at noon. You go on.”

  He patted her arm. “See you later then.”

  “Bon appétit.” She watched him cross the deck and step onto the dock. Her eyes told her he was handsome and fit, with all the class of old New England money. Life might be simpler if she could fall in love with David. But he was ordinaire—a person with no extrasensory abilities—and knew nothing of her other world.

  A sailboat rounded the point at the mouth of the harbor, its snowy sails filled. Although it looked like a dozen other boats docked in the marina, her stomach did a little flip.

  Bodie.

  The Talos was under full sail, the wind at her stern. Lex wondered how long he’d wait before he dropped his sails and started his engines. The charter boats usually motored most of the way, local sailors were bolder. The only person onboard, he didn’t have the luxury of ordering the sails lowered while he steered. She watched in fascination.

  As the sailboat drew closer, she spotted him at the helm—tall, tanned, and focused. “You can do it. Bring her all the way in,” she whispered into the wind. She held her breath, feeling almost giddy.

  Along the dock, people stopped to watch the graceful sloop approach. The jib began to furl on itself, slowly winding until it was a thin blue line stretched between the bow and the top of the mast. As the Talos came parallel to the Ariel, Bodie looked up. Across a hundred meters of calm blue water their eyes met as though he’d known she’d be there.

  Her heart slammed against her chest. Something was about to happen. Something important. Something she and Bodie had to do together.

  He smiled and waved. She raised her hand in return.

  A moment later he manned the winches and cranked the mainsail into the mast. Without hurrying, he returned to the helm and turned on the engine to maneuver the vessel into the crowded marina.

  She had a lot of questions about Bodie, none of which were answered by Googling him. Aside from a mention in an article about a faculty function at M.I.T., a two paragraph entry in Wikipedia on his basketball career, and a review of a physics book on Amazon.com, there was nothing. Anyone could plant such flimsy background so she assumed Bodie Flynn wasn’t his real name. Who was he?

  The Talos glided into the marina and maneuvered smoothly into a slip. She wanted to play it cool with Bodie, make him come to her on the Ariel. Which wasn’t going to happen. She pushed herself away from the railing and headed for the marina, reminding herself that Bodie didn’t have to like her to be useful. The only logical thing to do was go say hello and get started looking for her whales.

  “Yo, Talos.” She waited on the dock, peering into the open hatch. “Bodie, you down there?”

  His head appeared in the companionway and she drew in a quick breath. With a couple days of stubble he looked more like a pirate than a scientist—dangerous and sexy.

  “You the welcoming committee?”

  “How was the sailing? Did you miss the storm off Guadeloupe?”

  “Yeah, but a series of squalls hit early this morning in the open water between here and Saba. Made things interesting for a few hours. I was about to get in the shower and clean off the salt spray.”

  “Right. Any change in the energy in the Trench?”

  “No new hot spots in the area. Any news about your whales?”

  Lex shook her head. “Get your laptop and we can go to the Ariel and start downloading Poseidon’s physical data. I think I’ve filtered out most of the non-relevant readings and—”

  He lifted a hand to cut her off. “Whoa, princess. I’ve been sailing twenty-four seven. I’m not going anywhere until I get cleaned up and eat.”

  “Sure. Sorry. I’m anxious to get started.” Waiting for him had already pushed her patience to its limits, but she certainly wasn’t going to let him know that. “The team’s meeting up for dinner at seven at a restaurant in town. We’d like for you to join us.”

  “Sorry.”

  “Sorry? What’s that supposed to mean?”

  The corner of his mouth quirked in a half smile. “It’s a polite way of saying no.”

  “No?” Was he kidding? Planting her hands on her hips, she fixed him with her do-not-mess-with-me glare. “Wrong answer. Let me rephrase it. The team is meeting for dinner and you will be there. We’ll get to w
ork first thing in the morning so tonight is the best time for everyone to get acquainted.”

  “Do you get a lot of results with that hands-on-your-hips thing?”

  “Usually.”

  “Our deal was I only mix when I want to and I’m not a part of your team.”

  A quick glance around confirmed they were drawing attention from the nearby boats. An older man with wiry gray hair on the catamaran in the next slip had the nerve to raise his beer can to her.

  “Bodie, be reasonable. You’ll need to work with these people, and this is just eating and chatting a little. Surely that isn’t beyond you.”

  He crossed his arms over his chest, which stretched the cotton over his massive shoulders, and flexed an imposing pair of biceps. “How about a compromise? You have dinner with me at eight at the restaurant here at the marina. You can brief me on your team and we can discuss how we’re going to investigate the situation in the Trench.”

  She knew when she’d met an immoveable object. On the other hand, his compromise might be construed as a date by the others. “Do you object to David Latham joining us? He’s the captain of the Ariel.”

  A brow cocked. “Do you need a chaperone, Ms. Durand?”

  “Of course not. I just thought…”

  “No Dave. You and me. Eight o’clock, unless you’d like to come by earlier for a drink.” His deep voice held a challenge.

  “Eight at the restaurant,” she said and turned on her heels, ignoring his triumphant chuckle.

  • • •

  Bodie watched Lex stride away down the dock. The white shirt and khaki shorts she wore looked like they’d been made for her, which, given she was rumored to be a shareholder in Durand Tech, they probably were. En route from Fat Dog, he’d done an internet search on Lex Durand. The woman certainly wasn’t low profile. After wading through photos from animal charity functions, he’d discovered features in Vanity Fair, Vogue, and a variety of European magazines with her driving race cars, skiing in the Alps, and mixing with royalty in haute couture. At least the media left the Foundation alone or he wouldn’t be here. Still, he couldn’t assume he was safe.