by Jo Davis
After this, no more.
Leaving the two men alone, she pocketed her cell phone and went outside on the pretext of taking a walk. The gardens out behind the pool would hide her well enough and afford some privacy.
She already had one message from Dietz and it wasn’t wise to disappear on him. Stalling him would have to be done another way-by lying her ass off.
Placing the call, she was numb inside rather than nervous.
“What do you have, Agent?”
Nothing but contempt for you.
“I administered the first dose, and it affected him more strongly than I’d believed. He’ll be dead by the third.”
“Excellent. What else?”
“I breached his war room, and it’s quite a setup. Looks like the cockpit of a frigging airplane. If he’s hidden one of the files there, I wasn’t able to locate it yet. It will take a few more days.”
“Agent Vale,” he said casually, “I do believe you’re lying to me.”
Her gut lurched. “I’m not. I worked all night at each of the hard drives. His shit is well protected.”
“You’ve never needed a few days to complete a task.”
“I do now.”
A weighty silence.
“I want that file on Friday. Find the bastard.”
She ended the call without saying good-bye, and hung her head. The urge to phone Michael again was overwhelming, but she’d had no success so far and she didn’t see that changing. She couldn’t give SHADO’s code for an emergency when she didn’t even know if there was an emergency.
Soon, very soon, she was done.
***
A true nightmare this time, not a memory.
He was lost, stumbling along a dried, barren lake bed.
Well, barren except for the fish. Miles of fish, as far as the eye could see, mouths gaping, gills expanding, as they struggled for breath that would never come. Eyes popping out. Staring. Scaly, stinky bodies baking in the scorching heat.
Mesmerized, he halted and stared down at one of the dying fish.
“Join us in the boneyard,” it said. “You belong here.”
He stumbled backward, intending to run. But his feet were stuck, sinking into the ground…
“No!”
“No!” Jude shot upright, gasping. Horrible images from his sleep gave way to blessed reality and he shuddered, willing them to abate.
“Jesus Christ, what was that?”
The virus, or whatever, must’ve really done a number on him.
After he showered and dressed, he felt much better, weird fucking nightmare aside. Almost human. The dizziness and nausea of yesterday’s attack were gone, and he wasn’t hurting as much. He was more tired of lying around than he was from the twenty-four-hour bug he’d gotten, and he was ready to do something. Anything.
Liam had stopped in his room earlier and told Jude he’d be out by the pool if he was needed, so Jude headed there first. Might as well ask his friend a question while it was on his mind.
“Hey, man!” Liam called out. “Damn, you look a zillion times better than yesterday.”
“I’ll take your word for it,” he said, poking fun at his lack of sight. “But I’m up and around, at least.”
“Pull up a chair.”
Jude found one without too much problem. Liam had stopped jumping up to help him weeks ago, letting him learn to cope. He sat and got right to the point.
“Do you recall when you brought me home after the accident?”
“Jesus, like I could forget. Why do you want to talk about that?”
“I don’t. I just want to know if you remember what you did with the clothes I had on that day.”
His friend paused, then asked slowly, “Why would you want to know?”
“I’ve lost my grandfather’s lighter. You know, the antique I used to carry around in my pants pocket?”
“Oh. Well, I suppose it’s probably in your closet. When you had the accident, you were coming home from one of your trips and had a duffel bag. I tucked away everything you had on you into the bag and stuck it on the top shelf.”
“All right, I’ll search there. Thanks.”
“You’re not going to start smoking again, are you?”
“Is that why you hid it from me?” He ribbed his friend. “You were afraid I’d resume the habit?”
“I did not hide it! Not on purpose.”
“I know you didn’t. I’m kidding.” He sat back, soaking up the sunshine. “Anyway, the lighter is sentimental. It’s all I have left of Pop.”
“I’ll help you look if you want.”
“I can check the closet. If it’s not there, I’ll take you up on the offer.”
“Sure.”
Something else was bothering him. “Is Lily okay with what happened between the three of us? She’s made herself pretty scarce around me,” he said, worried. He could’ve sworn they had a real connection going. That she felt the same things he did.
“As far as I know, but…”
“But?”
“You’re right. She has been sort of quiet. Now that you mention it, she’s been disappearing for stretches of time, like an hour or so,” Liam said thoughtfully. “I saw her talking on her cell phone in the gardens, too. When she came back, she seemed distant. Almost like she was someone else.”
The back of Jude’s neck prickled. “Did she mention who she was talking to or what the conversation was about?”
“No, and I didn’t want to pry. She’s not exactly keen on discussing her life outside of here.”
“That’s not so unusual. Plenty of folks don’t want to air their laundry.” He thought back. “I did get that her father is dead, though.”
“Really? That’s too bad.”
“Yeah.” Jude stood, grimacing at the leftover ache in his body. “Well, I’m going to go poke around for that lighter, since I’ve got nothing better to do.”
“You could paint, now that the glass guys are finished replacing the window and the mess is cleaned up.”
He shook his head. “Later. I think my muse packed and left for the Congo.”
“You’re just in a slump. It’ll come back, my friend.”
He really didn’t think so, but didn’t want to upset Liam any more. “Probably. Enjoy your soak.”
Inside, he went back to his room and headed into the closet. The top shelves were high, barely reachable, but he managed to feel around, discarding several containers. At last, his fingers brushed a bag with handles and he grabbed it, dragged it down.
He didn’t remember the bag, or what he’d been wearing the day Liam was allowed to bring him home. Didn’t recall much of those black days at all.
Except wishing he were dead.
Now he just wanted to find his balance, his place in a world turned upside down. He had no clue what Pop’s lighter had to do with that or why it would make him feel better to hold it again, but the drive to find it was an itch under his skin.
Tossing the duffel on the bed, he sat down, unzipped it, and stuck a hand inside, checking the contents. A belt, something cotton. The material had arms-a T-shirt. A pair of sunglasses. A pair of jeans. He sniffed the clothing and detected a hint of fabric softener. They smelled clean, and he guessed these were extra clothes from his last mysterious trip. The pockets were empty and he laid them aside.
He continued fishing and found another set of clothes. Slacks of some kind and a button-up shirt. These were rumpled, smelled a bit musty. Liam should have given these to the housekeeper to launder, but he doubted his friend had been any more eager to deal with what had happened than Jude had been.
The shirt’s pockets were empty, as were the pants. At the bottom of the duffel, however, he found a small lump. Jude’s fingers closed over the rectangular metal object he hadn’t touched in months.
Pulling it out, he held it tight, unable to reason out the excitement and relief that washed over him. His reaction made no sense. The old Zippo wasn’t particularly valuable or even al
l that attractive to a collector. But he clung to the thing like a lifeline, suddenly assailed by a vision.
He leaned back in the squeaky vinyl chair so thoughtfully provided by the shitty motel and shook his last Marlboro out of the pack, narrowed eyes never leaving the screen of his laptop. He lifted his antique Zippo lighter from the corner of the scarred desk and stuck the cigarette between his lips.
He lit up and inhaled, letting the rich smoke curl through his lungs in a futile attempt to soothe his nerves, on a whole variety of levels.
There was a jackal in their midst, and he couldn’t reach Michael.
With a low, cynical laugh, he stubbed out the cigarette he hadn’t really wanted in the cheap plastic ashtray. The prickle on the back of his neck warned him that the joyless screw he’d indulged in last night could very well be the unremarkable period on the end of an otherwise exciting life. And if so, he wanted to know why, nosy, self-destructive bastard that he was.
Jude clutched the lighter to his chest, sweat rolling down his temple as the scene shifted.
He dropped his face into his hands. In the wake of this terrible exercise of connect the dots, he’d be goddamned lucky if he didn’t wind up at the bottom of the Atlantic. In five different oil drums.
Because a traitorous, murdering bastard was coming for him. No doubt about it.
If he had a whisper of a prayer of avoiding a grisly fate, he had to work fast.
His fingers flew on the keyboard, precious seconds being whittled away.
The door to his motel room burst open, hitting the inside wall like a gunshot. He spun, the SIG from the desktop already in hand, arm leveling at the leader of the traitor’s cleanup crew.
Too late. A pop split the air, and pain blossomed in his chest. He stumbled backward, managing to get off a shot, the explosion deafening in the tiny space. The leader went down with a grunt as he trained his gun on the second man, tried to squeeze the trigger. And couldn’t. His arm fell limp and useless to his side.
“Holy fuck, I’m losing my goddamned mind,” he rasped, wiping the sweat from his face. “I’m an artist. A painter. I open shelters for the abused. I don’t kill people, I don’t play espionage games in crappy hotel rooms.”
Do I?
Merciful God, this was worse than he’d thought. What sort of man was he? What had he been doing on all those trips? And why?
“Jude? How are you feeling?” Lily asked, her soothing whiskey voice cutting through the growing panic.
“A little out of sorts,” he said with a shaky laugh, sliding the lighter into his jeans pocket. He hadn’t heard her come in, but her presence was a balm on his nerves.
“What are you doing?” Her slight weight dipped on the bed next to him.
“Just sitting here… reflecting.”
“Oh? On what?”
He almost told her. He wanted to confide in her, but fear, self-doubt, held him back. “Nothing important. At loose ends and wondering what to do with myself, I guess.”
“Right this minute or in the future?”
“Take your pick.”
Scooting closer, she brushed his hair from his face. “You look flushed.”
“I’m fine.” Unable to help himself, he pushed into her touch. Kissed her palm.
“I’m not so sure about that. Jude, I want to tell you something. I know all about loss,” she said quietly. “Losing a part of yourself that hurts so badly you’re sure you’ll bleed out. And I’m not speaking of things like memory or sight, though those losses aren’t small.”
“Your father’s death?”
She froze. “How did you know about him?”
“I don’t, really. But when you mentioned him the other day, you spoke of him in the past tense.”
“I see.” She dropped her hand, and he immediately missed the contact. “Yes, my greatest heartbreak was my father. He was a shining light to everyone around him, kind and brilliant. He was a scientist, patriotic to the core, developing revolutionary new weapons technology that would’ve changed the face of American defense. And he was murdered for it before he could realize his dream.”
“Lily, I’m so sorry,” he said, reaching for her hand.
She took it, curling her fingers around his. “So am I. I lie awake nights fantasizing about all the different ways there are to make traitors pay, men like the ones who snuffed his wonderful light. Is that wrong?”
“No.” He pulled her close. “In your position, I’d likely go one giant step further. With no remorse.”
“I’m glad you understand.”
She sounded so sad, he wanted only to erase her pain. She’d shared a part of herself he suspected she’d never divulged before, and he felt honored. Closer to her than to anyone since the day he’d met Liam, and still…
This was different. These burgeoning emotions inside him, the connection to the woman at his side. He couldn’t name them, didn’t care to.
But in his own way, he’d show her.
“Let me make love to you,” he said.
Her breath tickled his ear. “Please.”
She’d given him a gift. Now he’d give her one in return.
Something he’d given no other woman.
Ten
Watching Jude shed his jeans and shirt, Lily trembled inside. A profound bond had been forged between them. Not the one he imagined, but a bond all the same.
She’d had to explain to him about her father, allow him the opportunity to understand her motivations even if he’d never know the truth about why she needed absolution.
What part of him greed and evil hadn’t destroyed understood that she’d brave hell itself to eliminate men like those who’d murdered Brandon Vale.
Men like Jude.
Hard to believe; he was so beautiful. Muscles rippled under taut skin as he tossed his jeans aside, his cock hard and leaking. Green eyes glittered with desire, his strong jaw clenched. She couldn’t help but respond to him, crave him inside her. Her sex burned, nipples ached.
“I need you,” she heard herself say. “Now.”
“Your wish…”
She took his wrist and guided him to her. He pushed her onto her back and unzipped her skirt, pulled it down. Brushed her slick sex, ever so lightly.
“Sweet. Already hot for me.”
Next, he helped her off with her blouse, plucked each of her nipples to points. He grazed one, then the other, sucking while raking his fingers through her long black hair.
One palm skimmed her belly, delved between her thighs. He stroked, spread her dewy moisture over her sex, rubbed her clit. Sent electric sparks zipping to her nerve endings as she opened her legs wider, inviting more.
His lips lowered to hers in a kiss so gentle it brought tears to her eyes. As they kissed, his fingers parted her flesh, dipped inside, stroked in and out, preparing her.
“I want to feel you with nothing between us,” he whispered into her mouth. “No barriers, just our skin. I’m clean-I swear. Liam’s the only one…”
“I’m healthy, too. Jude, please.”
He crawled over her, positioned himself between her legs. His cock probed her opening, pushed into her heat. Deeper, every bump and ridge massaging her inner walls. So good, so right.
When he was fully seated, he braced his arms on either side of her head, cradling her close. Holding her as though she was precious to him, he began to move. She wrapped her legs around his waist and lifted her hips to feel each stroke to the fullest.
His back muscles flexed and rolled under her hands. His auburn hair curtained his face, full lips parted. Driving deeper, he tilted his head back, throat exposed. She couldn’t help but bite and kiss him there, tease the vulnerable area with teeth and tongue.
She reveled in him. His movements, his musky male scent. This wasn’t the wild, explosive fucking of before, but something far more meaningful.
“Mine,” he murmured, burying his face in her hair. “Mine.”
She’d never been so complete. Cherished.
> This man was truly making love to her.
Thrusting in slow, sure rhythm, he drove them to the peak. Overwhelmed her like a spring storm, replenishing a barren desert. Strong and true, his passion carrying her with him over the edge.
“Oh, baby, yes,” he moaned, big body shuddering. “Yes.”
She arched into him, his name on her lips, clinging tight. Never wanting to let him go.
They came down together, Jude stroking her hair, kissing every inch of her face, petting and loving. He was such an affectionate man, in bed and out.
But only because he didn’t recall being any different.
Slipping out of her, he rolled to his back and gathered her into his arms. She settled her head on his chest, listening to his heartbeat. He kissed her head, voice low and rumbly. Protective.
“Don’t even think of going anywhere.”
“Right now?”
“Or tomorrow, or the next day.”
She swallowed hard. “No worries there.”
“Good.” He let out a big yawn. “God, I’m tired already.”
“You’re probably still recovering from being sick. Do you still hurt?”
“Some, but not too bad.”
She bit her lip, pondering her next question. Per Dietz’s orders, she wasn’t supposed to ask, or do anything to jog his memory. Now she wondered.
“Jude… tell me about the nightmares. About the killing,” she said softly.
He went still under her. “Why?”
“Because I care about you.” She paused, caressing his chest. “Do you think they’re based in fact? Maybe you were, like, working for the government or something.” Oh, that was pushing it. Dietz would be furious.
“I don’t know what to believe,” he said tersely. “And I don’t want to talk about this.”
Well, that went about like she’d expected.
“Fair enough. I’m sorry. Why don’t you take a nap?” she suggested.
“Will you stay?”
“I have work to do, but yes. For a while.”
“All right. Lily?”
“All right. Lily?”
“Hmm?”
“I’m glad you came into my life,” he said. “I just thought you should know.”