by Carol Roi
"Why the DOD?" He asks.
I shrug then reach up to pull the robe back onto my shoulder. "Most of the companies we contract with are ones with major defense contracts. I don't know, for sure, if that is the case with QuestScape, but it is a possibility and I'm sure Jan is just covering all the bets before the trail grows cold."
Before any of my guests can raise another question, there is a sharp knock on the door and I rise to answer it, only to have Jim beat me there. He gestures for me to stand back, away from the direct line of sight when the door opens, and pulls his sidearm from the holster on the back of his belt. The small, high pitched, squeal of shock that echoes through the door when he yanks it open, is all I need to hear.
"Sharee! Clarence! Ellison, back off! They're part of my team!"
Within seconds I'm enfolded in two sets of arms as the Miltons greet me. Then Clarence pulls back and looks at the others in the room. "Aww, damn it, Lee. Went and got into more trouble without inviting Sharee and me again, didn't you?"
"It's worse than that, C. David is dead."
"Damn." The big Native American looks like he's going to cry. It had been his idea to bring David into the company and to bring him on this trip, his first assignment outside the corporate office area, as part of his training. It takes me a while to get the whole story out, with only a few interruptions by Ellison and the others, but finally, I'm able to send the husband and wife off to their room to grieve in private. My throat is tight with unshed tears of my own, and I add a splash of hot tea to the mug I'd forgotten and try to wash the pain away.
"Well, that tears it. I'm definitely ready to call it a night." Inspector Connor gets to her feet, Diandra and Blair rising also.
"Megan's right. It's late and we really should be going."
"I'm going to stay."
I nearly drop the mug in my hand as the words leave Ellison's mouth. "No, I'll be fine--"
"No argument, Lee. There have been two attempts on your life, your primary bodyguard is MIA, and your backups are not emotionally ready to handle anything tonight. So unless you want to spend the night in a safe house, I'm staying." Those ice blue eyes, flashing with determination, soften as he continues in a much milder voice. "At least until LaFollet gets back. Okay?"
"Okay."
"Jim? Can I speak with you out in the hall before I take Dee and Megan home?" Oh, Sandburg isn't happy about leaving his partner here, alone, with me. The four of them step out into the hall, Diandra flashes me a look I remember well from our time together at Delphi. I'm to behave myself. Like I'm in the mood to even contemplate doing anything after seeing my youngest bodyguard cut down.
While they are having their little conference, I realize I'm starved and the liquor I've consumed is starting to make me a little dizzy, so I place a call down to room service and ask that they send up a couple of porter house steaks, medium, with all the trimmings. I'm taking the chance that Ellison, no - Jim, hasn't eaten and he looks like a meat and potatoes kind of man to me, but just in case, I tell the staff to hold off on cooking the meals until they hear back from me.
The poor worker that took my order explained they were just about to close down the kitchen, but I manage to sweet talk him into filling my order. Well, the promise of a 30% tip for the staff that helps me out may have aided my cause. I'd just hung up the phone when Jim walks back into the room. He still had my key on him. "Everything okay, Jim?"
"Yeah. Sandburg's going to make sure Diandra and Megan get home then he's going home himself. I'm to call him for a ride when LaFollet shows up."
"He's rather protective of you, isn't he?" For some reason, my words make him chuckle.
"You could say that. Are you hungry?"
"Starved. You?"
"I could eat."
"Good. I took liberty and called for a meal to be sent up for us both, I hope you don't mind?"
"Nah. I'll eat anything right now, including witchety grubs."
"Sorry, I don't think they have those in stock."
"Cute. I'll be right back." He disappears into the bedroom, heading for the bathroom and I call room services back, telling them to go ahead with the order and to add a large pitcher of ice tea and a pot of hot tea to the order. Some gut instinct tells me it's going to be a long night. And I still have yet to ask Diandra if she was able to find some way to retrieve my sword, my lousy backup sword, from the tree outside of QuestScape.
Within moments, Jim has returned to the living area as I'm pouring the last of the plain tea into my mug, a puzzled expression on his face. "Jim?"
Pointing with his thumb over his shoulder towards the bedroom, he says, "I noticed a connecting door back there, it wasn't locked."
"No, it wasn't. LaFollet has the room on the other side, I didn't want to miss his return so I left it open," I try to explain as I sit once again on the sofa I'd sat in earlier.
He takes a seat on the couch across the low table from me. "Is that a normal procedure for you both? Are the two of you close?" He snaps his mouth closed so fast I hear his teeth click and there's a light blush rising on his expressive face. "Sorry, I shouldn't have asked that."
"Jim, it's all right. I understand." I drain the last of the tea from the mug and carefully balance it on my knee. "Jan-Michel's became a little over protective of me in the last few months..."
His voice is soft, those azure orbs full of concern as he gently interrupts me, "You mean, since your husband died?"
Biting my lower lip, averting my gaze from his, I nod. "Yes."
"I'm sure the incident from Friday night didn't lessen that protective streak, but why did he leave you here with only one bodyguard to watch your back?"
I sigh, wondering that myself. Getting in touch with people he knows from the Department of Defense makes sense to me, but he knew John David wasn't as fully trained as the Miltons, yet he left anyway. A part of me wonders if he was actually off somewhere, filing a report with the Watchers as well as tracking down leads. "I don't think he expected me to recover from this morning as fast as I did. He was gone when I woke up. He probably thought I'd stay here, in the hotel, until he got back."
The regrets over having not done what LaFollet obviously expected; the price the man he left in charge of my care paid, well up in my heart, bringing tears to my eyes. I close them, trying to stifle the sobs, but it's a lost battle. The weight of the mug disappears from my knee, the cushion beside me dips downward and I find myself pulled into a reassuring embrace. I shift slightly and bury my head against a broad shoulder.
No words are spoken; we just sit there. Me quietly bawling, Jim holding me, his strong right arm draped around my back, rubbing his hand up and down my right arm. It's comforting, being held like this.
The knock on the door startles us both and Jim jumps to his feet, his hand already moving towards the gun holstered in the small of his back. At his hand signal, I quickly pad off towards the bedroom while he goes to answer the door.
I glance around the bedroom and seeing the hilt of Azir's sword peeking out from under the dark green comforter, I hurry over to pull it out then slide it under the left side of the huge bed. That done, I reach into the bedside table and pull out the holster and gun I placed there when I first arrived here. Silently shutting the drawer, I'm laying the weapon on the bed when Jim walks in.
"You have a gun?" He boldly strides over to me and holds out his hand. I hand over the item in question. I watch as he examines it, going over it like a pro, which he is. "A Lady Smith? I hope to hell you were going to tell me about this and you have a permit to carry it?" After 'safeing' the gun, pulling it free of the holster and popping the cylinder free of the frame, he hands it back to me.
"I was going to tell you and, don't worry, I do have a permit for it." I carefully close the cylinder, slip the .38 back into it's holster and place it on the bedside stand.
"Show it to me later, dinner's arrived."
Part 12
"Jim? Can I speak with you out in the hall before I take
Dee and Megan home?" Blair raised an expressive eyebrow at his partner, then followed the women into the hallway.
Dee brushed her fingers against his, and he gave her hand a squeeze. "Megan and I'll meet you downstairs by the Jeep, okay? I don't think you need an audience."
"Yeah, that's fine." He watched them get on the elevator, then leaned against the wall as Jim exited the suite, closing the door behind him.
"What's up, Chief?"
"I think that's my question, Jim. What's up with you? Do you think this is a wise decision you're making here? You don't know anything about her, about who's after her. I can understand you wanting to protect her, that's your nature, man, but you have no idea what you're getting involved with."
Jim did a double take, looking surprised by the vehement reaction of his guide. "And you do?"
"I know you're planning on spending the night with Lee, without backup. Whoever's after her is pretty determined; they didn't have any qualms about shooting her bodyguard, they probably won't think twice about shooting you. I don't like it."
"Sandburg, calm down. We'll be just fine. I'm just going to stay until LaFollet gets here, then I'll head home. Nothing is going to happen."
Blair muttered something under his breath, knowing full well the sentinel would hear..
"What do you mean 'yeah, right'?"
Sighing, Blair met his friend's eyes. "Jim, you know you and redheads don't mix. Besides, Lee just lost her husband. She's probably pretty fragile right now. I…I just don't want you getting hurt." God, that had been a lousy speech. But he couldn't tell Jim the truth, that she was an Immortal with a suicide wish.
"Chief, I appreciate your concern, but I think I'm old enough to know what I'm doing. And I have no intentions of taking advantage of Ms. Eolia. I'm here to protect her, that's all. Now run along before Dee comes up here and hauls your butt home."
"Okay, Jim, but you'll call me to come get you, right?"
"Right." Jim re-entered the hotel room, and Blair walked toward the elevators, shaking his head. Maybe he could get Dee to talk to Eolia. He had the feeling Jim and Lee together were going to be bad news for everyone.
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Blair felt Dee stir in the bed, rolling onto her side next to him, her hand coming to rest on his chest. "What's the matter, baby? Can't sleep?"
He shook his head with an irritated sigh. "Sorry I'm keeping you awake. I'm just worried about Jim. He hasn't called yet."
"Jim's a big boy, Lobo." Her fingertips began to trace soothingly over his skin. "Though I admit his being with Lia is not the most ideal situation, not unless she wants him to find out what she really is."
"I'm afraid he's going to end up getting hurt. If not by whoever's after Lee, then by Lee herself. I know Jim, I know he's attracted to her. What if she returns those feelings? What happens then? I don't know if he could deal with being in love with an immortal. It would go against everything in his nature to stand back and not interfere in a challenge." He turned his head to peer into her eyes. The love and concern he saw there sent a shiver through him.
Her hand cupped his cheek, her thumb rubbing lightly over his lower lip. "Does being in love with me hurt you?"
"No, oh no, angel. You're about the best thing that ever happened to me. Being in love with you scares me sometimes, but I wouldn't give it up, not for anything."
She leaned forward, kissing him tenderly. "Then don't you think you owe Jim the opportunity to find this kind of happiness? He's the only one who can say whether or not he can deal with a relationship with one of us."
Blair rolled toward her, pulling her into his arms. "I know you're right, but still, I worry about him."
She snuggled closer, kissing his cheek. "I don't think anything's going to happen to him tonight. So why don't you close your eyes, and try to get some rest. It's been a long couple of days."
He did as she asked, leaning his head against her shoulder. Blair was silent a few minutes then said, "Thanks."
"Hmm, what for?" She nuzzled his hair.
"For just being a part of my life, for loving me, for listening to me. It's just…nice to have someone I can talk to about Jim, who will understand."
"Well, you're welcome then."
He was still for a couple moments then said, "I never asked you, are you okay?"
"Okay how?"
"With what happened in the alley. You tried to save that guy and you couldn't."
Blair heard her sigh softly, and she rolled onto her back, staring up at the rain coming down on the skylight. "I think I'm okay with it. I knew when I saw him he didn't have much of a chance."
Turning toward her, he propped himself up on his elbow, running his hand lightly down her arm, entwining his fingers with hers, then raising her hand so he could kiss her fingertips. "You saved me from the same thing, from a gunshot to the heart."
She must have heard the unspoken question in his voice. "I was right there when it happened, Lobo, you didn't get a chance to bleed out. And your spirit was still there; you were fighting not to let go. He was already gone when I tried to help him. There really wasn't anything I could do. Even if I had healed him, I couldn't call his soul back."
He lay back down next to her, leaning his cheek against her shoulder. "Dee…"
"Enough talk, Lobo, it's late. Now go to sleep."
Blair lay there quietly for a few minutes then began to rub her stomach. "I'm not sleepy," he complained.
Laughing, Dee kissed him. "What did you have in mind, as if I don't know?" Blair whispered in her ear, his hand sliding under the waistband of her boxers. "Oh, oh, yeah. I think that's a very good idea…"
The meal was excellent, the steaks larger than I had expected, and when I found I couldn't finish mine, Jim Ellison surprised me by offering to do so. I sit back from the table, sipping at the hot tea that had come with my dinner, watching him.
Most people go through life merely eating whatever is placed before them, not really taking the time to enjoy the tastes. Immortals, like myself, tend to get a little jaded about food after a few dozen decades, but even I have a few dishes that will send a frisson of pleasure through me. From the expression on the Detective's face, he's not one to just inhale a good meal, but rather, he seems to be savoring every bite.
Eros! Where are these thoughts coming from? I excuse myself from the table, moving back to the couch, as the idea I want Ellison to savor me, like he did the steaks, washes over me.
"Lee? You okay?"
I turn to see his eyes on me and I sink into the cushions. "I'm fine. Just had to get away from the table before I started nibbling..." Seeing his eyebrow quirk up in a silent question, I respond, "Oh, don't worry, I'm more than stuffed. Finish your meal. Please?"
"Don't you mean your meal?"
The giggle that escapes me sounds vaguely like an errant school girl's. "What ever. I just enjoy watching you eat..." Shit, that was not what I meant to say! Grabbing the newspaper from the table, the one I haven't had a chance to read yet, I hide my rising blush behind the rustling paper.
The silence nearly kills me with its intensity and after I'm sure I have my... lust under control, I drain off my tea and, dropping the paper back to the table, I excuse myself once more.
In the bathroom, I look at my reflection in the mirror. The blush hasn't completely left my cheeks, my eyes are damn near glowing and I stop to think about my reaction to the man I just left in the living area of my suite. When I had first seen Ellison, I had flashbacked to my one encounter with Laird William MacAlasdair. Their features bear so many similarities... Damn. Could that be it? I'm attracted to Jim because I'm almost positive he's a descendant of that ancient Scotsman?
Cupid's Arrows! Even just thinking about both men in the same thought has my stomach turning into butterflies. I want this one, if only to see if the talents of the ancestor had been passed down to the ever so great grandson. Reaching for my toothbrush, I try to turn my thou
ghts away from the path they seem determined to wander down.
Azir, my husband, gone from my life only three short months. Would he approve? Could he forgive me? Rinsing my mouth, I choke back a sob, knowing the answer. Yes. Azir el Sadih was a very unusual man; he had to be. We worked together as spies for so long, using whatever means were at our disposal to gather the intelligence we were sent after. Oftentimes, that meant me using my body to loosen tongues, or to compromise the target. But the past seventeen years hadn't been like that. I had been loyal, monogamous, to Azir. And I had enjoyed that. But Jim Ellison...