Uncontrollable (Beyond Human)

by Nina Croft

  “We’ll get out of here. We should be okay if we stay off the tracks. We’ll hear them coming.”

  She wanted to ask how far off they could pick up other people, but presumably Liz and Pete were unaware of the telepathy thing, and it wasn’t her secret to tell. “How good is your hearing?” she asked.

  “Mine is very good,” Kaitlin replied.

  “So for now, we’re safe,” Liz said. “Thank Christ, because I need a drink.” She rummaged in the bag and came out with a bottle of red wine and a corkscrew. “No glasses, I’m afraid. But I think under the circumstances, we can risk a few germs.” She took out the cork, put the bottle to her mouth and took a long swallow, then passed it to Pete. She opened a second and handed it to Mel. For a moment, Mel hesitated, then gave a mental shrug, lifted the bottle to her lips, and drank. The taste was strange, but good, rich and deep. She took another swallow, then passed it to Quinn. She watched the movement of his throat as he swallowed. He held it out to Kaitlin, but she shook her head. “I’ll stick with my scotch. It goes better with chocolate.”

  Quinn handed the bottle back to Mel, and she drank some more. If she concentrated, she could feel the vague buzz in her brain. She liked it and took another swig.

  “What was today about?” Pete asked. “You say you’re FBI, so why isn’t the place crawling with agents trying to find you?”

  Good question. She glanced at Quinn and he shrugged. “I suppose you deserve to know something.” He shifted on the ground, trying to get comfortable and no doubt give himself time to think. “About a year ago, an oversight committee was set up to look into a covert operations group who worked for the British government, but who were funded from various places, including the U.S. In the middle of the investigation, the committee was disbanded. And subsequently, all the members of that committee met accidental deaths.”

  “Which I’m guessing weren’t accidental,” Pete said.

  “No. They were murdered. Mel is investigating those murders, but there are people within the FBI who don’t want the truth to come out, so she’s having to work under the radar.”

  “Makes sense. So where do you fit in?”

  “We”—he waved a hand to encompass Kaitlin—“were part of the covert operations group. We…disbanded shortly before the murders. But the same people who wanted the committee dead, want us out of the way. We’re helping Mel with her investigation in the hope that it will get us in the clear as well.”

  Pete drank some wine, studying him and Kaitlin. “She seems awfully young to be part of a covert operations group.”

  “I’m just aging well,” Kaitlin said.

  “Hmm. What sort of covert ops?”

  “That’s classified.”

  “Humph,” Kaitlin snorted. “I always wanted to say that. But honestly”—she turned her attention to Pete—“you really don’t want to know.”

  “I do,” Liz said.

  “If we get out of this,” Quinn said. “I’ll tell you.”

  “I can’t wait for that conversation,” Kaitlin muttered.

  All around them, the light was fading and along with it, the heat of the day. Mel wrapped her arms around herself as Liz got up. She collected the blankets and handed them around.

  “Do we need to set a guard?” Pete asked.

  “I’ll stay awake,” Quinn said. “You all go to sleep. I’ll wake you at dawn.”

  “Are you sure? We can split the night.”

  “I won’t sleep anyway. Too much to think about.”

  “I’ll bet. Okay, good night then.”

  He and Liz drifted off to the far side of the clearing and lay down facing each other.

  “Are you going to sleep?” Mel asked Kaitlin. “How’s the pain?”

  “Not too bad if I don’t move.” She smirked. “I’ll close my eyes anyway, so feel free to get up close and personal with Quinn. I won’t be watching.” With that, she slowly lowered herself to a prone position and pulled the blanket over her head.

  Mel turned her attention to Quinn and found him smiling. “Have you two known each other long?” she asked.

  He nodded. “When I was sixteen, I moved into a compound just outside London with the rest of the Tribe. Kaitlin and her brother were already there. She was six at the time. A totally precocious six.”

  “Hey, I might have my eyes closed, but I can still hear.” The words were muffled by the blanket.

  “Put your fingers in your ears, then,” Quinn answered. He wrapped the blanket around his shoulders then held one side up. “Come sit with me.”

  She didn’t hesitate. The night was almost dark now, but filled with sounds, including the constant buzz of insects. Quinn wrapped his arm around her shoulder, and pulled her close, tugging the blanket around them both. She put hers over their knees, and for a few minutes, just snuggled down. She’d never done this before, just for the sake of being close to someone. It made her feel sort of warm and fuzzy, though that could have been the alcohol.

  “Where is Kaitlin’s brother?” she asked.

  “Sam’s dead.”

  “Oh.” She glanced over at the bundle of blankets, but Kaitlin said nothing. “I’m sorry.”

  “Sam was the best of us and the youngest. It was his death that made us realize everything was going wrong and we had to get out of there.”

  “He didn’t die for nothing, then.”

  “No.” He sighed. “Why don’t you try to sleep?”

  She didn’t think she could, but she closed her eyes anyway as Quinn pulled her closer against his side. His arm was around her, and he slipped his hand over hers, tightening his fingers around her palm. She’d never held hands with anyone in her life before, but a sense of comfort flowed through her. For a minute, she tried to fight it. Tomorrow, they needed to find out who was behind this, and there would no doubt be tough decisions to make.

  But she was finding the touch of another seductive and addictive.

  She’d worry about those tough decisions tomorrow. For now, she’d relax.

  And she slept.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Quinn spent the night staring into the darkness. It occurred to him that it was the first entire night he’d ever spent with a woman in his arms.

  He’d always felt doing that was taking intimacy too far. Sex was okay, but actually holding someone through the long hours of the night? That was something entirely different. He wasn’t sure what had changed. He’d always believed that what they were precluded them from having any normal relationships. When they’d worked for the government, they had been held to secrecy, and he’d never wanted a relationship built on a lie.

  Besides, their way of life had hardly been conducive to getting up close and personal with anyone other than someone within their group.

  Now, he loved the way she felt in his arms. She was in a deep sleep, her breathing slow and even. She trusted him to keep her safe, and he liked that, as well. Tomorrow, he had to somehow get them all out of here…which would be a hell of a lot easier if he had any idea who and what was after them. Despite the fact that their old enemies were now allies, they still never seemed to run out of people wanting to kill them. It was getting tiring. His money was on rogue Conclave, trying to build a new power base. A few telepaths under their control would give them a powerful advantage. Likely they’d decided that Quinn and his people—most of them trained soldiers—were too much trouble. So the plan was to eliminate them and go after the unprotected members of the original tribe.

  It sort of made sense.

  Or maybe it was someone else entirely, who believed they had a good reason to want them all dead. Something to do with Kane’s mission, perhaps.

  It was enough to do his head in.

  But he reckoned for tonight, they were safe. Even so, he’d keep watch. He did a quick scan of the area, but there was no one else near.

  He didn’t want to sleep anyway. This might never be repeated, but for tonight, he had Special Agent Lyons in his arms and he liked it. Hell, h
e liked her. He liked the way she’d acted today. Even the way she had admitted her terror of the water and let him help her deal with it.

  He found himself smiling into the darkness.

  “I think she likes you, too,” Kaitlin murmured from under her blanket.

  “Go to sleep,” he replied.

  There was no further sound from her, and he cleared his mind, pulled Melody a little closer and relaxed.

  “Quinn!”

  His name sounded in his head. Kaitlin. He blinked and sat up straighter. The night had been stygian dark, the canopy cutting out even the starlight. But dawn was coming. He could just make out the shape of the tree trunks forming out of the darkness.

  “What is it?” he asked.

  “There’s someone coming.”

  “How far?” Kaitlin was the strongest among them—she could pick up thoughts much farther out than he could.

  “About a mile. Sorry. I was asleep. Otherwise I would have picked them up sooner.”

  “Will they find us?”

  “Yes. They’ve already discovered the raft.”

  “How many?”

  “Four.”

  They had two pistols between them. Should they run? But they’d have to carry Kaitlin and they would never outrun their pursuers with only a mile head start.

  “I’d like to do the honorable thing and say leave me behind, but sod that.”

  He smiled into the darkness. “Damn. There goes plan number one.”

  “What’s plan number two?”

  “Give me a moment and I’ll come up with it.”

  “Make it quick.”

  Whoever was after them could have no clue how many had survived the crash. Quinn could use that and set up an ambush. Except they wanted everyone dead. Hell, they could just blow the entire camp, which meant they couldn’t leave anyone here. Mel was still asleep beside him, and he gave her a gentle shake, felt her come awake, a ripple of tension running through her body.

  “Good morning,” she murmured, pushing herself away from him.

  He rubbed at his arm, which had gone numb where she’d been leaning on him, and she shifted away.

  “We’ve got company heading our way,” Quinn said.

  “What do you want me to do?”

  He definitely liked her. “Go wake the others. Get them over here.”

  She nodded and got to her feet, heading over to Martin first. She gave him a little shake, spoke to him briefly, then moved on to where Liz and Pete lay across the clearing.

  “Are they still heading this way?” he asked Kaitlin.

  “Yes.”

  He closed his eyes, concentrated, and caught the murmur of minds. They were in the distance but getting closer. He got to his feet as the others approached. First, they had to get Kaitlin a safe distance away. He nodded to Pete. “We have four people headed this way. We’ve got to presume they plan to kill us.”

  “How do you know it’s not a rescue party?” Liz asked.

  “Believe me, I know.” For a second, he thought she was going to argue, but then she closed her mouth. She had no clue what was happening, but she knew it was something strange. And she’d seen the plane blow up, so she was aware of their pursuers’ intentions. Which meant she had no choice but to trust him, even if she wasn’t happy about it.

  “I want to get Kaitlin away,” he said. “Then we’ll set up a fake camp. We only have two weapons against four. Pete and I will circle around the back and take them as they attack the camp.” He looked at Mel as he spoke, wondering whether she would argue the case for going with him, but Pete had combat experience. Even as an FBI agent, it was likely Mel had never actually killed anyone, and he didn’t want her finding out she couldn’t pull the trigger this morning. Some people killed with ease, some learned, some would never be killers. But she merely nodded and pulled the pistol from the back of her pants and handed it to Pete.

  How far was safe?

  He nodded to Pete and together they picked up Kaitlin’s stretcher.

  “Can you set up the camp?” he said to Mel. “They shouldn’t know how many of us there are. Maybe make three bodies?”

  “Of course. Go.”

  The bad guys were coming from the north, and so they took Kaitlin south, up a slight incline that would lead them around the rocky outcrop. When they’d gone about a quarter of a mile, he decided it was enough and put her down close to a huge tree trunk. Then he helped her sit up. “Stay here,” he said with a grin.

  “Oh, and I was thinking of going for a walk.”

  “We’ll send the others. If we don’t come back, just get the hell out of here. Get better and—”

  “Find the bastards and kill them.”

  “Yeah.”

  “I’ll be okay. Go do your stuff.”

  He nodded, and they ran back to the camp. He could pick up the people tracking them easily now, and he homed in on the leader of the group. The man wasn’t thinking about much other than the coming attack; he was focused, professional. And out to kill them. Quinn tried to delve deeper, get some idea of who they were, but from this distance, he just wasn’t powerful enough. Maybe Kaitlin would have something when this was over.

  Mel, Liz, and Martin were waiting when they got back to the camp. They’d used blankets and set up three pretty impressive sleeping forms, one on the stretcher. It might fool someone from a distance, but not close up. Hopefully it would be good enough.

  “Head straight south and you’ll find Kaitlin about a quarter of a mile away. Wait there with her. If we’re not back in half an hour, get her the hell out of here.” Though if he and Pete failed, he doubted the others would get away. Which meant they couldn’t fail. He crossed the space between him and Mel.

  “I bet you’re glad you decided to come fly with us,” he said.

  She snorted. “I am so glad. But we’ll get out of this.”

  He couldn’t resist. Reaching out, he cupped her cheek in his palm, then lowered his head and kissed her lips. She stood unmoving for long seconds, then he sighed and straightened. “I was starting to believe there were no good guys left, that there was no one to trust. We’d been lied to so much. I’m glad I met you.”

  Something flickered in her eyes but was gone before he could identify it. Her smile was a little forced. “I’ll see you soon.”

  “You will.” He nodded to Martin. “Some rescue, huh?”

  “I stand by my comment of yesterday—I’d rather die here than spend another day in prison. But all the same, I’d really rather we didn’t die today. Jake always said you were the best in the field. Get out there and prove him right.”

  He watched as they turned away and quickly disappeared into the trees. He concentrated for a moment, picked up the thoughts of the men coming. There were two sets of two. They’d split up and were coming at them from different angles.

  He couldn’t afford for them to get too close to the fake camp and maybe track the others. He turned to Pete. “I want you to go hide in the tree line beyond the camp. Make sure no one gets past you.” He had a quick look in the man’s mind, but there were no problems. Pete was committed to this and saw the sense in the instructions.

  “Okay. What’s the plan?”

  It was weird—he was used to working with Jake or one of the others, and there was never any need to discuss what they were going to do. They would just be in each other’s minds, knowing their thoughts, their moves, almost as they decided on them together.

  “I’m going to get behind them. They’ve split into two groups—”

  “How do you know that?” Pete shook his head. “Don’t bother answering. I’m guessing it’s a long story. “

  “Yeah. Some other time. I’ll let the first group get here. As they arrive, I’ll deal with the second. When you hear my shots, take them down.” He’d really like to have been able to keep one of them alive, but he didn’t want anything to hinder Pete taking them out of action—that was the most important thing. He’d try and keep one of his two—which incl
uded the leader and their best bet for retrieving anything useful—alive.

  Quinn didn’t wait for Pete to go, but just turned and headed into the trees, moving at a fast lope and in an arc that would take him to a point behind the pair farthest out. As he moved, he pulled the pistol out from where it was tucked in the small of his back. It was a model he’d used before, and he flicked off the safety without slowing, running with it hanging loose at his side. The ground was a soft bed of pine needles and his feet didn’t make a sound.

  He kept his mind focused on the thoughts in front of him. It took only minutes to get behind them, and he slowed to match their pace. The front two were coming up on the clearing. He didn’t want to give them time to find out the camp was empty and warn the others. He peered into their minds, saw the moment they spotted the camp, slowed, realized nothing was moving. He increased his pace. Something must have warned the two men, because they whirled around, guns aimed. He had no choice. He took the first out with a bullet to the head, and then the second before the man had a chance to process what was going on.

  He heard shots up ahead. Pete was engaging with the other two, and Quinn raced through the trees, not worrying now if he made any noise. It was doubtful anything would be heard beneath the roar of gunfire.

  He came out into the clearing, taking in what was happening in moments. One man was down, but Pete was out in the open. Something hit him. The pistol spun from his hand, and he whirled around, crashing to the ground. Quinn swung toward the attacker, aimed and fired, and the fourth man went down. Unfortunately, he was dead. They weren’t going to get any information from him. He reached out to Pete; the co-pilot was only winged, his mind crammed with pain, but still functioning. He was crawling toward his dropped weapon.

  Quinn did a brief check but there was no one else. They’d done it. Which was just as well, since he’d used the last of his ammunition.

  “Watch out!” Pete called.

  He turned quickly as a man stepped out of the trees, a gun held at arm’s length. Shit. Where the hell had he come from? He wasn’t picking up anything from the man’s head. Everything seemed to slow. He could see the finger tightening on the trigger. This was it. He instinctively hurled himself to the side as the first bullet whizzed past him. But the man was already aiming again, and there was no cover.