High Passion

by Vivian Arend

  “No, Devon did. He’s not as smart as he thinks. Now which way?”

  “To the left.” Alisha chose the direction leading away from the upper entrance.

  The path narrowed before twisting to the side. The water pools and river were left behind, the light in Vincent’s hand reflecting off walls that were now close enough to touch. Vincent’s breathing was loud in her ear, obviously hurt as he groaned and muttered, shoving her forward into the darkness. Alisha ignored his panting as she frantically searched for a solution. Should she take Vincent to the other entrance? Wander in circles . . . ?

  Oh.

  She had the answer to Devon’s cryptic message. One of their first searches with Lifeline. They’d rescued a couple of Boy Scouts who’d gotten separated from their troop. One of the pair had insisted they’d been looking for the secret exit his older brother had told him about.

  Devon wanted her to make Vincent wander in circles.

  “Vincent, I need to stop for a minute”—she tugged on his arm—“please.”

  He paused, allowing her to straighten up. “Don’t try anything.”

  “What would I try? You’ve got a gun. I’m not stupid. Only, please, stop choking me. I’ll take you where you want to go.”

  He held the back of her coat this time, shaking her to prove he could control her movements. “Now, walk.”

  Being able to breathe better was a good thing. She held her hands out to stop from knocking into rocks, the light barely in front of her enough to see. “If you let me hold the flashlight, we could go faster,” she offered.

  “No.” The words clipped. Sharp. All Vincent’s smoothness had vanished.

  They came to another split in the tunnel, and she took the right passage, crossing her fingers that after all this time she had selected the proper path.

  The walls glittered in places as the light struck them, bands of igneous rocks mixed in with the places where running water had deposited calcium, the buildups creating waves of what appeared to be red-and-cream-coloured piles of rock-hard pudding. Sharp sounds rang out, but there was no way to tell how far away the original noise had originated, echoes carrying through the passages until the entire place became a drum chamber.

  Alisha slowly worked the zipper on her jacket, careful to keep one hand pinned over the two sides to maintain the illusion of being tightly controlled. She had to be ready when . . . whatever happened, because something was sure to go off soon.

  She pulled them down yet another endless passage, this one riddled with holes on one wall. Staying alert, keeping her attention focused forward, but pleased that she’d ended up exactly where she’d intended.

  Vincent pushed her forward. “Faster.”

  “Faster and we’ll trip,” she warned.

  Motion blurred on her right. Alisha let go of her jacket, springing forward and leaving her coat behind in Vincent’s grasp. He grunted in pain, and the light in his hand tumbled to the ground. That was fine by her—in spite of the darkness she knew where she was going, at least for now.

  She spread her arms wide. Her fingertips brushed wet rock on her right, and she ducked into the first of the available alcoves she could find. The wall guided her in the darkness while she moved blindly a few steps down the passage as behind the sounds of struggle rose.

  It had worked this far, Devon’s trick. She’d brought Vincent in a full circle and given Devon time to surprise them. But with Devon’s injury and that damn gun to worry about, they weren’t finished yet.

  Every sound the men made repeated off the narrow walls. Heavy breathing, fists meeting flesh. Alisha snuck back to the alcove entrance, tucked low to stay out of danger.

  The flashlight Devon had knocked from Vincent’s hand lay on the ground, the beam reflecting off the wall dimly illuminating the fight.

  Devon had an arm wrapped around Vincent’s throat, attempting to jerk Vincent to his knees. With his other hand he held Vincent’s wrist, the gun gripped in Vincent’s hand pointed down the passage.

  Vincent roared in dismay, the sound cutting off as Devon leaned in harder. Vincent jerked up a foot and slammed his heel into Devon’s leg, and Devon swore loudly, the oath bursting out in a breathless gasp. As they scuffled in the dim light Devon’s face was pale, Vincent’s dark eyes wide as he struggled to bring the gun around.

  Alisha ripped her hiking boot from her foot. The men twirled again as Devon dragged Vincent back, closer to where Alisha was hidden. She stood and timed it as best she could, and as the men’s joined hands passed in front of her she slammed the heavy heel into the back of Vincent’s hand.

  The gun tumbled to the ground and she snatched it up, darting into her alcove. Cold water soaked her sock as the fight continued. She put the gun down where the wall edge met the ground and hurried back to help Devon.

  As she reached the opening Vincent screamed. He made a last, desperate push, sending him and Devon careening into the wall. Devon gasped in pain, and the moment was enough for Vincent to twist free, snatch up the flashlight, and race away. The sound of his feet slapping against the stone floor faded into the distance as Devon slumped to the floor.

  They were left in pitch black.

  A pain-filled groan rose, and Alisha slipped forward using the walls as a guide. “Devon?”

  * * *

  Soft hands touched his face a moment before her strong arms helped him to his feet again.

  “You’re crazy,” Alisha whispered. “You’ve been shot. You shouldn’t be walking, let alone fighting.”

  “And leave you to him? Fuck that.” Devon leaned harder on the wall behind him. He took the headlamp he’d found in her abandoned backpack from his pocket, where he’d put it before leaping from the shadows. He pressed it into her hands. She twisted it on, and suddenly he could see every inch of her beautiful, worried face. “I couldn’t leave you. Thank you for figuring out what I was talking about, because I wouldn’t have been able to jump him otherwise.”

  “He can’t get out.” Alisha gestured down the passage ahead of them. “He’s got nowhere to finish except up against the base of the first descent. If Lana is there with a rope for him to escape, Erin will stop them, and either way, the RCMP should be here soon. We’re safe.”

  Devon tested his leg. The pain he’d ignored while tracking after Vincent and Alisha into the tunnels had lessened, probably because he was going numb. “Lana isn’t on his side, at least not fully.”

  Alisha wrapped her arms around him and squeezed tight. “I was so scared I’d lost you.”

  God. “Me, too. I never want that to happen again.”

  “I knew better than to go to his suite by myself. Why didn’t you?” Alisha complained.

  Devon smiled sheepishly. “What was he going to do? Knock me out, drag me to some cave, then try to kill me?”

  “Don’t joke.”

  “Hold it right there.” Blindingly bright lights hit them, and both Devon and Alisha turned their faces away and covered their eyes. “RCMP.”

  Devon waved a hand toward the ground. “Lower the lights. We’re the good guys.”

  “Opinions vary on that.” A deep chuckle followed as the lights shifted to the sidewalls, making it simpler to see the team of three who crowded the passageway. Their faces were familiar—men with whom Devon and Alisha had played poker during different social gatherings in the past. One of them smirked as he stepped forward. “Devon. What’s this I hear about you being kidnapped?”

  God, he was never going to live this one down. “Hey, James.” Devon switched footing and grimaced as pain shot up his spine. “It was all a ploy. You need to go farther in to catch your man.”

  Alisha tilted her head deeper into the mountain. “You know the route? Vincent’s no longer armed, and he should be trapped at the headwall.”

  One of the other constables nodded. “We’ll take care of it.” Two of the team rushed past. Alisha called after them, “There’s another woman at the top who might have a rope to help him, but our pilot is up there
watching.”

  James knelt to check Devon. “We already talked to Erin, and we have a team at that entrance as well. Damn, Devon, you got yourself shot.”

  “Really?” Devon wanted to say something smart-assed and quick-witted, but he was having a tough time concentrating now that his adrenaline rush was fading. “Nah, this is how tough we are on Lifeline. We enjoy making rescues more challenging by first opening a vein.”

  James snorted, standing and patting Devon on the back. “Okay, tough guy, if you insist. You’ll live long enough to hobble to the exit. I’m going to give the guys backup. You okay?”

  Devon nodded.

  “Wait,” Alisha interrupted. “Before you go. Vincent’s gun.”

  She disappeared down the passage for a moment before returning, holding it as if it were a rotting carcass. James took possession before vanishing, the stillness of the cavern returning as his footfalls faded.

  A slow trickle of water played in the background, muted voices in the far distance, but mainly the sound of their breathing and the strange noises created by being amplified underground.

  He still held Alisha’s hand. Her fingers were cool in his, wet and dirty. Both of them were filthy from the mud and water covering everything. When he turned her, though, she went willingly enough, pressing against him and lifting her lips to his.

  Pain that laced through his body faded at the sweetness of her kiss. The brush of her tongue, the clasp of her arms around his shoulders—he could have lost this, and the idea shook him.

  Then the truth rushed in.

  They could have lost each other, but they hadn’t. They’d done what they had to do, both of them, and now they could move forward.

  Together.

  They clung to each other for another moment before pulling apart. Devon caught her under the chin, the streaks of dirt and wet mud smeared on them forgotten as he looked into her eyes. “I love you, Alisha Bailey. Thank you for saving my life.”

  She went teary-eyed before smiling back, the dim lantern light making them look as if they’d been painted up to play war games. “I love you, Devon. Thanks for saving mine.”

  CHAPTER 29

  This time he was the one lying on the stiff white sheets of the hospital bed as Alisha parted the privacy curtains. Her smile broke over him like sunshine.

  It was nearly five hours since Vincent had gone off the deep end. Under protest, Devon had been taken straight to the Banff hospital by Erin in the chopper while Alisha stuck around to accompany the RCMP. It got him medical attention a whole lot faster—he understood the reasoning, but he hated like hell that they’d been separated.

  Now that he’d been poked and prodded and his wound wrapped up, he wanted nothing more than to be reunited with her and get the rest of the story. Seeing her just affirmed all over how much the rest of the story had to involve the two of them together.

  “You clean up pretty good,” he teased, keeping it a whole lot more lighthearted than he wanted to. “Tell me you’ve come to rescue me.”

  “Rescue you? I’m saving the staff. The nurses inform me you’re a shitty patient, and requested I please haul your ass out of here as soon as possible.” She stepped beside the bed and leaned in to kiss him.

  He caught her around the waist and tugged her onto the bed, ignoring her protests and concentrating on kissing her senseless. She softened in his arms, her torso pressed tight to his, and he groaned softly, wanting nothing better than to take her home and prove all over again how much he wanted her.

  How much he needed her.

  She caressed his cheek, her lips against his breaking into a smile. “We should save this for later. Marcus called us all to HQ, if you’re feeling up for it.”

  Devon sighed. “There goes the ten-kilometer hike I was going to suggest. Damn, that man ruins all our fun.” His brother’s familiar ring tone sounded, and Devon glanced at Alisha in surprise. “Do you have my phone in your pocket?”

  She rolled off the bed. “Lana had your phone, so the police have it now. That’s my phone. I added Mark to my address book and figured your musical salute was as good as any . . . I called him while you were in surgery.” Devon growled, and she tossed him a dirty look even as she handed over the phone. “They’re your family, and they deserved to know.”

  He tapped to answer the call, still giving Alisha the evil eye. “Mark?”

  “Devon, oh God, are you okay?”

  He couldn’t resist. “You caught me on the surgery table. You want prime rib or rump roast?”

  To his surprise he didn’t get an instant lecture to grow up. Instead, Mark laughed with relief. “So good to hear you joking around. I’m glad to hear you made it through with only minor injuries. We’re all glad—the whole family. Didn’t want to keep you from your rest or anything, so I said I’d call on behalf of everyone.”

  Devon stared at the phone for a moment before speaking. “Well, I’m okay.”

  “You’re more than okay. You’re an amazing guy, and I’m damn proud of you. Sounds as if you and Alisha have a lot to tell us the next time you come into town. You want to come over sometime before Christmas? I mean before the big family thing? We’ll do adults-only dinner, and you guys can tell us about Lifeline a bit more. It’s tough to have a real conversation with the kids racing around all the time.”

  So this was what shock felt like. Strange—took until this phone call for it to set in. “That sounds . . . That sounds like a great idea. We’d love to.”

  “I’ll get an e-mail loop going with everyone, so we can nail down a time and a place that at least eighty percent of us can make it.”

  “Okay.” Devon was sure he had a stupid grin on his face, and it only got bigger when Mark spoke again.

  “You’ve done well for yourself, Devon. Your job isn’t what I would have chosen, but then you’re not me. I’m glad you’re doing something you love, but for God’s sake, don’t get shot again, okay?”

  “I’ll work on that.”

  Devon hung up and caught Alisha by the wrist, tugging her to his body and holding her close as he breathed past the emotions that threatened to make him bawl like a baby. His issues with his family weren’t over with one phone call, but it was a start.

  “Thank you,” he whispered in her ear. “I don’t know what you said to them, but thank you.”

  She was smiling when they pulled apart, moisture in her eyes. “We’ll talk about it later. We’ve got a meeting to get to.”

  He tried to refuse the hospital wheelchair, glaring at the nurse who’d rolled it to his bedside.

  “Stop being a pain in the ass, Devon, and get in,” Alisha chided.

  “Screw that. You get in, and I’ll carry both you and the chair to the door.”

  “I’ll deal with him.” Alisha waved the nurse off. “Get in, Ironman, you can make race-car noises if that helps distract you.”

  He laughed and let her have her way. What he really wanted was to go home so he could talk about Mark’s change of attitude, and grill her about exactly what she’d said to his brother to kick his ass into gear. Not to mention all the other matters they still had to settle.

  As they passed the waiting room, the name Bailey Enterprises blared from the television on the wall. Devon caught the chair wheels and jerked himself to a halt.

  Flashing on the screen were the words Executive Director Arrested.

  Devon glanced at Alisha. Her teasing smile faded to a blank mask as the news reported Vincent’s arrest. The camera switched to follow a man who had to be her father escaping into his car as he waved off reporters with a “No comment.” The next shot showed a smartly dressed employee stepping forward to smooth the waters.

  “Mr. Monreal’s arrest appears to be of a personal nature involving estranged family members. We at Bailey Enterprises want to assure our stockholders that this in no way will affect the company. CEO Mike Bailey is completely focused on moving toward the future in a strong and positive manner.”

  Damn. Devon curled his
fingers over hers. She squeezed them for a moment, but neither of them spoke until they were in private by her car.

  Alisha took a deep breath, staring into the sky. “Well, that would explain why he’s not answering my calls. I’m obviously part of the problem, not the solution.”

  “You don’t know that for sure,” Devon began, but she held up a hand.

  “It’s okay. If he wants to find me, he knows where I am. Otherwise, this might just be for the best.” She briefly buried her face against his chest before straightening and wiping away her tears. “Let’s get to the meeting before they send out a search crew for us.”

  This wasn’t the end of the conversation, but Devon figured he should drop it for now. Another thing to add to the discussion they would continue when they got home.

  She escorted him into the Lifeline staff area and found him a seat on the couch. Alisha curled up beside him, although she grew strangely quiet. She slipped her fingers into his, and he squeezed them reassuringly and waited for the update.

  Around them the team gathered. Erin stopped to punch his shoulder lightly, Tripp and Anders nodding from across the room.

  The sight of Xavier’s empty place burned.

  Marcus stood by the door and looked the team over carefully, his gaze pausing on Devon. His expression smeared into disgust as he glared at the leg Devon had propped up on the table in front of him, his injury raised as per doctor’s orders.

  Devon shifted uncomfortably. “Stop that, Marcus. You’re giving me a complex.”

  “I can’t believe you were stupid enough to get shot.”

  “It’s better already. Nearly healed even,” he lied.

  Alisha made a noise, and Devon crossed his fingers that she’d hold her tongue and not mention anything about his possible concussion, or the other minor injuries the nurse had listed for him to watch out for.

  He should have known he didn’t have to worry. Instead she changed the topic.

  “You heard from the RCMP?” she asked Marcus.

  He nodded. “We’re still missing details, but I wanted to let you have at least the basics. They picked up Lana on foot heading down the road from Takkakaw Falls.”