by Bonnie Vanak
“You think I’m making this up. But for the sake of your people, and mine, listen to your instincts, Sam. You know this isn’t normal.”
“We’re SEALs and paranorms. Nothing is ever normal,” he said drily.
Shay studied the landscape as they turned off the highway. Dusty trees, ragged shrubs and rugged hillsides flanked each side of the Rover. They bounced up and down like bobblehead dolls as the vehicle drove through the rough dirt road.
“LZ is an empty cornfield ahead, three klicks,” Dakota mused. “Be there in a few.”
Every sense on alert, Shay scanned the area for signs of an approaching helo, or any other military. Nothing, except a small child herding a small group of cows with a long stick.
“Dakota, keep sharp,” he muttered.
As they rounded a curve, his senses kicked into turbo. In the middle of the road lay several leafy branches arranged in a pyramid.
“Disabled vehicle ahead. Or maybe the road’s bad.” Sully shook his head. “Not that this road could get worse.”
“That’s the marker for the LZ.” Dakota stopped and cut the engine.
“It’s a trap,” Kelly said, sitting forward.
To their right, a swath of rocky land rose to a steep hill covered with trees. A barren cornfield was to their left.
Odd place for a landing. Shay’s suspicions grew.
“She’s right,” he said. “It smells like a setup. Let’s gear up.”
“Do it,” LT murmured.
Sully reached into the wheel well and retrieved the MP5s, handing them out, along with five sets of fingerless gloves. Kelly’s eyes widened as each man checked his weapon. Shay knew what she thought. The compact submachine guns meant business.
But then she exhaled, a sound of pure relief. “I knew I got arrested by the right people.”
Renegade looked up from slipping his radio into its case. He gave a quick but friendly grin. Another surprise. Shay adjusted his bone phone earpieces and checked his throat mic, hoping the wolf’s changed attitude would be the only surprise they faced.
They waited. No sound of an approaching helicopter. The air inside the SUV grew oppressive and hot.
“Helo overdue by fifteen minutes.” Sully tapped his watch. “Anyone see her ride?”
“I’m checking it out.” Shay readied his weapon.
Leaving the door open, he slid out of the vehicle and scanned the area. Those hills were a perfect place for an ambush.
Shay narrowed his eyes. A flock of blackbirds suddenly scattered from the trees on the ridge. Metal glinted in thick bushes on the ridge.
He hit the ground even as a bullet splintered a nearby rock. “Incoming!”
Gunfire crackled, bullets piercing the dusty ground. One hit the windshield. It cracked but did not shatter. Another hit the back tire. It exploded with a burst of rubber. Shay crawled back to the Rover and used the door as cover as he fired back. The other SEALs did the same, aiming at the ridge.
“Shit,” Sully yelled. “We’re sitting ducks.”
The vehicle was designed to take a hit and then drive off, not endure a hailstorm of ammo. Shay glanced backward and saw Kelly lying on the seat, her gaze wide.
“Keep down,” he ordered.
A distant scream as they kept firing at the ridge. No return fire. Movement from the bushes to their right. More movement to the right.
Sully grabbed his binocs and scanned the ridge. “Two active targets, Oscar Mike.” He gave the locations.
Dakota nodded. “Greg, stay here with the prisoner. Shay, take the forward location. Sully, Renegade, flank to the right. I’ll cover the left.”
They moved out as a team, a horseshoe encircling the enemy. Shay fought the urge to protest. Greg, the FNG, was barely a SEAL, and if something happened to Kelly...
Using rocks and trees as cover, he gained the ridge and settled behind a thick tree trunk. Shay clicked his radio twice to signal he was in position.
A branch cracked nearby. His KA-BAR was sheathed at his ankle. If he had to, he’d go hand to hand.
A muzzle flash exploded like sparks. Shay stayed low as bullets sprayed haphazardly. The shooter was a total amateur. Then he heard a low curse, someone trying to jimmy the trigger.
Jammed.
Pointing his weapon, he stepped from behind the tree, knowing they needed the assailant alive for questioning. The air went out of his lungs as he stared at the assailant in shock.
The shooter was a duplicate of himself wearing green cammies and carrying an older-model submachine gun.
Shay kept an instinctive grip on the MP5, training it on his twin. In his hands, his gun always remained steady. Always.
“Who the hell are you?” he said hoarsely.
Nothing but a guarded look.
Fine. Shay fired a spray of bullets at his doppelgänger’s feet. The man jumped and yelped. A dark stain spread on his groin, the ammonia smell of urine hitting Shay’s nostrils.
“Next time, I aim higher. Who the hell are you?”
The man seemed to struggle with his composure. Then he gave a slow smile, as if the neurons in his brain finally began to fire and connect.
“I am what you were. The charmer. The smooth ladies’ man. The man who let down everyone he loved, everyone who counted on him.”
The other gave a cocky grin Shay had seen in the mirror. A dizzying sense of unreality began fogging Shay’s mind.
“I am the man who cares only for his own pleasure. The man who let his little brother die. Call me...Mr. Dark Side. I am you, Samuel Jackson Shaymore.”
A kaleidoscope of memories swirled. In the other, he saw everything he’d been; the carefree man who’d easily seduced ladies, who used his powers to get what he wanted, the youthful boy-man who thought only of the erotic delights Kelly offered...
The person who failed to see the truth of what Kelly’s father was, what Kelly’s people were, and adhere to his first duty—protect his family.
The man who’d failed to save his little brother.
Waves of pain shocked him, the memories so thick he wanted to claw them away. Once again he heard the chant that echoed through his mind after he’d fought the flames, desperate to get to Pete, his parents....
You can’t save them, you can’t save them...
“Such a sweet little brother. He died calling your name,” the other murmured.
The other was him, the man who’d failed time and again. The self who was failing now as a SEAL, couldn’t control his powers, would soon get kicked off the team...
Then he heard Kelly’s voice, clear and strong, override the chiding self-incrimination.
“You’re my only hope, Sam. Not because you’re a navy SEAL, but because I know the strong, dependable man who wouldn’t let a raging fire stop him from storming into a burning house is the only one who can stop them.”
Chin up, hands steady as he jerked his gaze forward. To his target. Himself.
Who was now running away, zigging and zagging through the forest. That little interlude gave him time to escape.
“Mr. Dark Side, meet Mr. Bullet.” He fired.
A hail of bullets spat out of the MK5, hot shell casings coughing out of the gun. One skimmed his neck, burning him. But it was too late. The doppelgänger vanished into the forest.
Dammit. He broke radio silence. “Alpha One, this is Bravo Two. Over.”
Dakota’s voice crackled. “Sitrep, Bravo Two. Over.”
Recovering his composure, he spoke harshly into his throat mic. “Code red, hostile is paranorm. Doppelgänger.”
He paused and added, “Bastard knew my history. Over.”
LT’s voice crackled in his ear. “Roger that. Smoke-check ’em? Over.”
“Negative. Target is Oscar Mike.”
He hadn’t killed the enemy but had let him escape. Dammit, he was a good operator and no stranger to surprise. He was a SEAL.
The radio crackled. “Charlie Mike. Rendezvous at the SUV. Over,” Dakota said.
&n
bsp; “Roger that. Bravo Two out.”
Dakota gave the green light to tail the SOB’s ass. Knew he could find him. Shay squatted down, studied the ground. If he shape-shifted into a wolf, he could more easily track the enemy. Tension knotted his stomach. Already filled with adrenaline, he feared the results of shifting. Uncontrollable. Feral. A beast who would not stop, could not stop.
The stench of urine mingled with the heat, decaying vegetation and the dust. Shay focused on the ground, opening all his senses. Each broken branch and disturbed leaf alerted him to the direction his twin had taken.
The man might look like him, but he sorely lacked the ability to mask his trail. Not a SEAL, that’s for damn sure, Shay thought.
He followed the trail as it snaked through the woods downward to a stream. The radio crackled into his ear. “Alpha One, this is Charlie Three. Target acquired, ready for download by Bravo Two,” Sully said, giving the coordinates.
Dammit. But the team needed him. Shay gave up the chase, moved down the hill and joined up with Renegade and Dakota. “Find your twin?” Renegade asked.
Shay shook his head. “How many targets?”
“Three, including yours and Sully’s. Smoke-checked one.” Dakota looked around. “Kelly was right. We were set up.”
By their own commanding officer. Shay’s stomach roiled. The game had changed, and they needed answers. Now.
Chapter 7
They headed downhill through the trees. In a clearing, Sully trained his submachine gun on a very frightened bald man in military fatigues. Not a duplicate.
The SEAL scowled. “Stupid rock can’t even shoot straight. Tried to fry me with magick but missed and hit the tree.”
“Where are the others?”
“Dead, except for Shay’s doppelgänger,” Dakota said. “Is he talking?”
“Only to cry for his mama.”
“Question him, Shay,” Dakota ordered.
Keeping his gun pointed at the prisoner, Sully and the other SEALs backed off. They knew what he was about to unleash.
Shay closed his eyes and released his magick full bore, for the first time in months. Power rippled along his forearms to his hands. Blazing white with energy, his palms pulsed with magick. Sparks sizzled from his fingertips like Fourth of July fireworks.
If he released too much, he’d trigger an uncontrollable inferno of magick. But this time, he knew he could control it. “Who are you, and who sent you?” Shay asked.
The man’s wide blue eyes filled with hatred. He lifted his hands as if to surrender.
“Elemental filth,” the prisoner muttered.
Then he began a chant of ancient Celtic words Shay remembered from summer solstice rituals. He glanced upward at the darkening clouds. Virulent hatred etched his face as the man began shouting the chant. Clouds scudding overhead turned black and threatening. Thunder boomed.
Oh, hell, not this. Shay’s Mage senses tingled.
“Sully, kneecap,” Shay ordered.
The SEAL shot the prisoner. The man screamed and yanked his hand downward. Shay’s jaw dropped as a black ribbon of pure energy from an overhead thundercloud slithered downward, directly into the Mage’s hand.
He was a SEAL. Nothing ever surprised him. But this...
“Die, you Elemental bastard,” the prisoner howled.
The man threw back his palm as if to pitch a baseball. Shay tossed out a portion of his magick. Power exploded through the air, a white ball of energy hurling toward the prisoner. In a brilliant flare of sparks, white energy collided with the black electrical charges the Mage tossed at him. Then the black energy absorbed Shay’s pure white magick, converging and forming an orb that pulsed and glowed.
Shit! Arcane magick was weak at best. This was something he’d never encountered.
Shay threw more power, only to watch the newly formed orb consume it. Sparks crackled as the glowing ball drifted toward him. His own damn magick was working against him. If the orb touched him, he was dead.
“Shay, kill the son of a bitch,” Dakota ordered.
“You need him alive.” He sidestepped, and the orb floated through the air, following him.
“I need you alive more,” his lieutenant said.
Two could play this game. Shay gathered more power, flung it outward at the orb. Like a child tapping a floating balloon, his magick pushed the orb toward the Mage. His magick then absorbed the ball, shooting ribbons of powerful energy at the prisoner, who screamed as they touched his skin.
As the Mage reached up to pull more power from the storm, Shay threw all his powers into the orb. It burst apart, covering the Mage with a finely laced net of white-and-dark energy. The net sank into his skin like a knife through butter. The ozone stench of energy twined with the slick, coppery scent of the Mage’s blood as Shay’s magick ate into his flesh.
The man screamed and thrashed on the ground. Then he turned to Shay, his eyes glazing over.
“You’ll die. All of you,” the Arcane whispered, blood bubbling from his parted lips. “We won’t stop until every drop of Elemental blood soaks into the earth.”
Shay squatted down beside him. “Who the hell sent you?”
But the Mage was dead, his open eyes staring sightlessly at the sky.
Shay turned the man’s head and saw a familiar red brand with a line slashed through it. He searched the Mage’s pockets and withdrew a cheap plastic wallet. Inside was a laminated card. Shay handed it to Dakota.
“Arcane ID card. Andrew Jones, ex-prisoner and Arcane. Jailed for sedition.”
The other SEALs stared solemnly at him.
“I thought Arcane Enchanters weren’t powerful.” Dakota looked stunned.
“They’re not. This is something new. He must have absorbed his powers by killing an Elemental.” Shay gave his teammates a meaningful look. “It’s already begun, just as Kelly said.”
Plan A had failed. Plan B wasn’t looking hot, either. But they were SEALs and knew how to improvise.
He caught Dakota’s worried gaze. “Now you know what we’re up against. Curt gave you the orders to proceed to the LZ.”
“Curt would never betray us,” Renegade protested.
“It wasn’t him,” Shay said in a clipped tone.
“I know him, it was his voice.” But Dakota gazed around the wooded hillside. “We can’t trust anyone now.”
“Except ourselves,” Sully muttered.
* * *
Sunlight dappled the thick trees as they returned to the Rover. When they arrived at the vehicle, Shay saw horror shadowing Kelly’s blue eyes. She slid out of the backseat as Greg lowered his weapon.
“I heard screams,” she said.
“I did what I had to do,” he said shortly, checking his weapon. “You were right. Rogue Arcanes are gathering forces and aim to kill all of my people.”
“Your people against mine. Sam, I saw that storm. They’re gaining powers your kind can’t fight. What if they win?”
Rage boiled through him. “Every last criminal Arcane will die before that happens.”
“Including me? You just arrested me. Are you throwing me into that group, Sam?”
Guilt filled him at her woebegone expression, those big blue eyes looking as if he’d do exactly that. Greg patted her shoulder awkwardly. “You’re safe with us,” the tiger assured her.
Shay reeled in his emotions and the surge of male protectiveness that nudged him to shove aside the tiger. He could take care of his woman....
His woman? Who the hell was he kidding? That was in the past. He had no claim on Kelly Denning.
Kelly held out her wrists, still tied with flex cuffs. “Answer me, Chief Petty Officer Shaymore. I’m Arcane. Are you going to kill me, as well?”
“Gods, you don’t think I’d do that.” Shay felt ill.
A breeze teased tendrils of her red-gold hair. Her expression was guileless, but her hands shook slightly.
“No. But now you believe the threat is real. And it’s not me.”
&nbs
p; Silence for a moment. The men glanced at each other.
“Are you still taking me in? I get the impression there is no helicopter coming to take me to the airport.”
Her voice lowered. “The answer is simple. Help me find the missing children, and you find the nest of Arcanes organizing this. Without those kids, the Arcanes can’t fuel their powers to carry out their plan.”
Nothing about this mission was simple. It was FUBAR, fucked up beyond all repair, complicated by the woman standing before him. Trusting him to do the right thing, and storm the castle. They knew how to deal. But they’d never faced duplicity from their own commander.
Never been tasked with stopping a genocide.
“What’s your plan?” Kelly asked his lieutenant.
“For now, seeing everyone gets hydrated. Miss Denning, you, as well. Shay, see to her.”
Shay fetched a bottle of water and brought it over to Kelly.
“You look hot,” he said softly. He removed the flex cuffs and handed her the water.
She took a sip and handed it back. He drank deeply. Her gaze traveled over his body, and a flush ignited her cheeks. Sexual awareness hung in the air, current as powerful as the magick he’d tossed at the prisoner. Adrenaline pumped through his body, making him hard as a rock. Or maybe it was the woman standing before him, the faint scent of her floral perfume teasing his senses.
“I’m glad you’re okay, Sam. When I saw that storm, I worried.”
Kelly smiled, the action chasing away the shadows from her eyes and making her look damn pretty. Sheer longing stabbed him. Made him wish for a brief moment that he could turn back the clock. Go back to those innocent moments when they were lovers and thought nothing of tomorrow.
Until it came crashing down upon them.
His gaze narrowed as he watched the other SEALs grabbing water out of their packs. “I knew it. Bastard’s doing it again.”
Kelly turned and saw Renegade pull out a bottle from a pack with Shay’s name on it. “That’s yours!”
“Yup. Bastard lightens his load by taking my water when I’m not looking. Not this time. This time, I packed one bottle and left the case in the trunk. Watch.”
The shifter took a long pull and choked. Coughing, he dropped it and wheezed, his face turning red.