Dark and Dangerous

by Jeanne Adams

  Dana's every nerve went on high alert. She slid out of the bed, put on her jacket and shoes. Tying the laces, she sucked in a pained breath as the fabric tightened over her bandaged foot. Caine's hand closed around her wrist.

  "Xavier?" he questioned.

  "Still asleep. Should I wake him?" Their bags were by the door where she'd left them. The one thing she'd allowed Xavier to unpack was his bear, and that was clutched in his arms. She could scoop up boy, bear, and baggage and be out the door in a flash, Shadow at her heels.

  "No, not yet. If you need to use the bathroom, do it. It'll be several hours before we have another chance."

  Taking stock, Dana decided she'd better go. He touched her arm. She jumped. The man must have the eyes of a cat. "Don't flush."

  Stifling an irrational snort of laughter, she nodded. Trailing her hand along the bedspread for guidance, she quickly made her way to the lavatory. On the return trip, she held out a hand to feel the way. Within seconds, she connected with a hard, cloth-covered thigh. "Sorry," she whispered as a blush warmed her face. Two inches to the left would have been really embarrassing.

  "Take the keys and the bags. I'll get the boy."

  She started to protest, but bit her lip instead. It was faster and easier for her to carry the bags and take Shadow. At twice her size and strength, even with an injury, Caine would manage Xavy better. As hard as it was to depend on someone else, she held out her hand for the keys. When her searching touch grazed his bicep, she froze. His fingers slid down her arm and a laden metal ring jingled into her palm.

  "Shadow, with me," she whispered.

  In two strides she was at the door. With the deftness of practice, she slipped the backpack onto her shoulders and looped the duffel bag and purse straps into the crook of her elbow. She put her hand on the knob.

  A surge of body heat announced Caine's presence behind her, and she shuddered. She hadn't heard him at all, not even a rustle of sheets as he picked up her son.

  "Which way?"

  "Go right, out the door. Ten paces to the end of the building. Down the stairs, hard right at the bottom, and through the breezeway. Car's two slots down."

  "An Escalade, Tervain said. That's a big Caddy SUV, right?"

  "Dark blue, tinted windows, DC plates."

  Tightening her grip on the keys, she slowly turned the knob, silently releasing the latch. "Ready?"

  "Go."

  Opening the door a fraction, Dana peered into the erratically lit parking lot. The balcony rail was iron and allowed a clear view to the area below. The lone motion came from the moths circling the yellow sodium lights.

  Heart pounding, Dana slid the security bar over, propped the door open, and slipped out of the room. Quiet as a mouse, she and the dog headed for the stairs. It took everything she had not to check over her shoulder. What if daine was the leak? What if he was taking them to Donovan?

  With ruthless precision, Dana excised that mental blip. There wasn't anything she could do if he was. She'd thrown the dice and had to go with the roll. Her gut told her Caine was one of the good guys. Given bis countenance and demeanor, he was more of a black knight than a white one, but he was a knight nonetheless.

  The scramble of those musings got her to the car. She unlocked it with the key, not trusting the unfamiliar gad- getry. It would suck if the power locks flashed the lights or sounded the horn. Should she get in? Crank the engine? Why hadn't she simply taken Xavier and run? Where was Caine?

  The last question had barely surfaced when he appeared, sliding past her so she could open the rear driver's side door for him to set Xavier on the seat. Xavier was awake, his eyes wide with fear. She pressed a finger to her lips, reinforcing the silence. When he nodded, she smiled at him.

  Still tangled in the blanket from the bed, the boy scooted into the car, and Shadow followed. Caine piled the bags onto the seat and floor and eased the door closed.

  His hands clasped her upper arms, he pulled her forward and leaned down. Close as an embrace, his breath shivered the skin of her neck. Every sense in her body responded to him. She cursed her hormones and their wretched timing, and tried to focus when he spoke.

  "You drive. Left out of the lot, onto 64 West."

  Releasing her, he walked around the end of the truck with the barest trace of a limp. She climbed into the spacious vehicle at the same time as Caine. Their eyes locked, and she saw grim determination carved on his features. She slipped behind the wheel and found the switch to kill the dome lights, all the while wondering what the heck she was going to do with this odd, disturbing man.

  Within minutes they were out of the lot and onto the road, heading west. In the rearview mirror, she studied Xavier's white face, and the darkness beyond it. Reaching behind the seat, she searched for his hand. "It's going to be okay, honey. We're going to another safe-house. Agent Tervain is worried about a leak, so we're going into the mountains until he can figure out what's going on." His fingers were limp for a moment, then strengthened as he gripped her hard.

  He let go before saying, "Okay, Mom."

  The car was quiet for several minutes. She heard Xavier shifting around. "You all right back there?"

  "Yeah." A pause, then, "Mom, what about him?"

  "Who?"

  "Agent Bradley. Why's he going too?"

  They had introduced Xavier to Caine last night simply as one of the agents. She hadn't had time to tell him anything else. It took a very little time to fill in the blanks. Xavier asked a few questions, sharp ones that proved he'd figured out most of what she hadn't said and a bit more as well. She sighed. It was a sad fact that her little boy knew so much about the worst of the world at ten than most suburbanites realized in their whole lives.

  Throughout the entire exchange Caine remained mostly silent, adding a spare comment or two as clarification for both Dana and Xavier.

  "How much further is it?" The typical kid question had her smiling in spite of the circumstance.

  She looked over at Caine, and he cast her an answering smirk. "It's about a hundred seventy miles, so about two and a half hours, maybe three depending on how much back-tracking we have to do."

  Reflexively, Dana checked the gas gauge and considered where nearby cities might be. Three quarters full. If they were going west-northwest, they were headed into the Virginia mountains. Beyond Charlottesville, probably Maybe more north toward DC, or farther west, toward Tennessee. She ran the options and routes in her mind.

  "We gonna get to go to the bathroom?"

  Caine glanced over the seat and nodded.

  "Yes, we'll stop at some point for gas. You need a bathroom break now, or are you okay?"

  "I'm okay." Xavy paused a minute, then said, "Did you get our stuff, or did we have to leave it?"

  "We got it." She smiled at his delighted response. "No rummaging around though. Try and get some sleep, honey. Are you belted in?"

  His faint snicker reassured her, and she grinned in response. Quick to discover the car's secrets, Xavier was soon reclining the seat and arranging the purloined blanket to his satisfaction, using his duffel as a pillow. A swell of pride filled her. He was resilient, her boy. Resourceful. She wished he didn't have to be, but thanked the good Lord that he rolled with the craziness of their situation.

  She mentally revisited her choices and wondered how life would have been different if she'd made other ones along the way. It all circled around to Xavier. If she'd done things another way, he wouldn't exist, and that was untenable. She suppressed another sigh, recognizing that this was always her pattern, and the conclusion was always the same.

  A creak of leather from the passenger seat reminded her that she wasn't alone. Caine made no comment about her driving or the banter with her son. Nor did he break the silence. As they passed out of the well-lit streets, she flicked on the lights and turned onto I-64. As the miles flew by, she let herself wonder about him. Who was this man, this black knight, as she had dubbed him? Maybe it was time to find out.

  "Hav
e you worked for the FBI for a long time, Agent Bradley?"

  "Fifteen years."

  She waited for him to elaborate. When he said no more, she tried again. "Do you have a family?"

  "No."

  Uh-oh, bad topic. She could tell by the short bark of his reply. She searched her mind for another conversational gambit. The reflection of a highway eatery sign reminded her that he hadn't eaten at the hotel. The other agents had brought her and Xavier a snack before leaving.

  "Are you hungry? Should we find a drive-thru?"

  From the corner of her eye, she saw the faint glimmer of teeth. Was that a smile?

  "No. We need distance between us and the hotel. For now, drive. I'll tell you where to turn." He seemed content to ride in silence. After an hour on the road, the quiet jiggled her nerves. All the horrid outcomes she'd wept over circled around to haunt her again.

  "Mind if I turn on the radio?"

  "No."

  "A man of few words," she muttered and switched the knob. It was tuned to a talk radio show, so she pressed scan, tapping the button until she found music.

  "All the hits of the seventies, eighties, and nineties," the DJ's voice crooned.

  That would work.

  "What do they say now that it's the two-thousands?"

  Dana didn't realize she'd made the comment out loud until Caine's chuckle rumbled in the darkness, making her swerve.

  Flustered, she laughed as well.

  "Sorry. I talk to myself a lot."

  "Doesn't bother me. Can't say I've wondered about that particular thing, however."

  "I don't know why I did. Anyway, I guess the stations that play twenty-first century tunes don't care. They're too busy fending off iPods and Napster-type download companies and worrying about market share."

  "True."

  Somehow the exchange broke the tension, and she began to relax. The absence of small talk or any direction bothered her, and kept trying her patience, but she tried to let the darkness and the car's rumble soothe her. She found herself humming along with a song, her mind empty of anything but the words.

  "Exit here."

  "This takes us to this cabin?"

  "No."

  "And we're going off here because . . . ?"

  "I said to."

  That did it. Dana's irritation rose to the breaking point. Her earlier logic flew out the window. She took the exit and jerked to a halt on the shoulder.

  This time, it was her turn to be monosyllabic. "Get. Out."

  If she hadn't been totally serious, his baffled amazement would have amused her. She reached over and unlatched his seat belt. "Now open the door and go." She unlocked the doors. "You're a super spy guy, you'll be fine. Get out."

  "What in the hell are you talking about?"

  "I'm talking about you getting out of the car right now. I'm bloody sick and tired of being lied to, pushed around, and kept in the dark." Her temper at a boil, Dana turned in the seat to face him. "No thanks to your organization, we're on the run. Again. And now it's not only from Donovan but possibly one of your people as well. Yeah, I needed that added bonus," she snarled, her voice ripe with sarcasm. "So, if you're going to be all mysterious and 'need-to-know' on me, then you can hitchhike your sorry butt back to whatever cave you crawled out of. Xavier and I have been saving our own asses for a while now. We can take it from here."

  "Mom, what's wrong?" Xavier asked in a sleep-filled voice.

  "Nothing, sweetie. We're simply letting the nice man go."

  "Dana, lock the doors, put it in gear, and get going."

  "Fuck you," she said conversationally, ignoring his scowl. He could force her, probably hurt her. Her mind was busy building scenarios, planning how to get him off balance, fend him off when he attacked.

  "I'm a lousy lay."

  The comment brought her up short. It didn't compute.

  "What?"

  His grin, wide and flashing, disarmed her, and her anger melted into confusion. "That changed your state, didn't it?"

  He was making fun of her. She mentally stiffened her spine. "It doesn't change anything. Since I'm not going to sleep with you, I don't give a shit if you're Superman in bed. Get out of the car. Now."

  "Lordy, you have the mother voice going strong, even when you're mad." He shook his head and she saw the continuing glint of his smile. She wanted to punch him. He must have seen the venom in her glance, so he held his hands out in supplication.

  "You're right, you need to know. We're going to a cabin in western Virginia, in the mountains near the state line. I want to get off here, double back, check for pursuit. If it's clear, we'll take the parkway and smaller roads. I know the turns, not the road names. Once we get there, we wait for word."

  Leaving the decision in her court, he merely watched. The seat squeaked behind them. A quick glance in the mirror showed her Xavier was awake, listening.

  Part of her wanted to throw Caine Bradley out on his ear for being cocky, dangerous, and working for the FBI. The sane, logical part of her was on a mental rant. He'd given her what she wanted. He'd told her the plan as he knew it so far. She'd had to force his respect, demand he treat her as a partner in a difficult situation. But he had. What kind of example did she set if she threw him out now?

  A childish one, she decided, hating that it was true. Dammit, she wanted to pitch him out on his ear and screech off into the night, laughing.

  Instead, she put the car in drive and eased the big vehicle down the ramp. Turning at the bottom, she cruised smoothly back onto I-64, and heard his seatbelt click. From behind, her son's sleepy voice called, "That's seventy-five cents you owe me, Mom."

  Oh, hell. Even thinking the curse word made her wince. "You're right. I'll give it to you later."

  "'Kay." The word slurred as he conked out again.

  "If I see even a hint of a smile on your lips, Agent Bradley, your a—, your posterior is out the door." She turned to him, daring him to crack a smile.

  "Not me. Had a humor-ectomy. Mandatory when you join the FBI," he quipped, his face as straight as a poker.

  She couldn't prevent her own snort of laughter. "Yeah, right. And I'm assuming that followed the lobotomy?"

  As rejoinders went, it wasn't very pithy, but she didn't care. The mental image of the vast organization and their line of humorless servants fit all too well when she considered it.

  Silence descended once more, and this time it was Caine who reached over to turn up the music. A long slow ballad wound its way through the car's excellent speakers.

  "Pass by two more exits. We'll go into the filling station, wait five minutes, go back one."

  "Why?"

  "There are three cars on the road with us, four passed the other way. If anyone else pulls off the highway with us, or comes down within five minutes, we're being tracked somehow."

  "Can we get coffee?"

  "If there's a drive-thru."

  She glanced at the clock, it read six twenty-five. The sky was pale gold over the tops of the foothills. Hopefully the McDonald's would open early at this junction, if not, she'd take truck-stop coffee over none at all.

  Coasting down the incline, she turned toward the brightly lit station. Fifteen or twenty big trucks sat quietly in the sleeper lot with that many or more fueling or idling along the fringes of the road.

  "Drive around by the self-serve pumps, and go to the farthest one." He slipped a wallet out of the glove box and held out a credit card. "Use this card. I'd be a nice guy and pump the gas, but the way I'm dressed is too memorable."

  For some reason, her errant mind supplied a full-blown image of the way his black shirt clung to his heavily- muscled chest, and her fingers tingled as they had when she'd brushed his thigh in the hotel room.

  "Yeah, I guess you do sort of stand out," she mumbled, parking by the pump he'd indicated.

  Confused by the unusually vivid images, she stared blankly when he got a Baltimore Orioles baseball cap from under the seat and thrust it at her. "Tuck your hair
in this and zip your jacket. Slouch when you walk to disguise your height."

  Nodding, she put on the hat, opened the door and eased onto the running board. She was about to jump down when he spoke again. "Dana?"

  "What?"

  "You going to tell me why you owe your son seventy-five cents?"

  Chapter Four

  A tense silence descended as Donovan stalked to the vast windows overlooking Miami. The blood and broken glass behind him testified to the heat of his wrath. The depth and length of the silence in the wake of his destructive rant proved how seriously his men took his vivid words and murderous intent.

  He could see the men reflected in the glass, glancing nervously around, checking the exits like a bunch of Nancy-girl, sissy cops. Idiots. No one with cajones in the lot of them. Jesu knew, the only ones with any sense or skills were dead or caught in the attempt on Dana.

  "I will have my son," he said with intense certitude. "You will find him. Again. You will get him."

  "But boss..."

  Donovan was on the man in two strides, before a third word could pass his lips. The knife pressing against his throat was small but sharper than any razor.

  "But?" Donovan roared. "You dare to say this to me?"

  The fear glinting in the man's eyes was so satisfying, so energizing, Donovan wanted to draw it out, feed on it, drink it in like a fine wine. It made him stronger, eased the anger. He smiled.

  That must have been worse, for the man quivered in his hands like a virgin on her first night with a lover. "There are no 'buts' here, Emil. This you will do. You will do it quickly, and you will do it well. You have doubts?"

  Eyes struggling to see the knife, Emil cautiously shook his head. "No, Donovan. I know you're right. Sir."

  "Good. Then we are agreed."

  The knife pricked the barest bit and the terror that leapt into Emil's face made him chuckle. "A memento, Emil. Remember that there are no excuses. You fail, you die. By my hand or," and he had to laugh at the thought, "my wife's."

  With careless ease, he wiped the blade on Emil's white shirt and returned it to its hidden sheath. He loved doing that, making it disappear as if it had never existed. To emphasize it, he stretched out his arms, palms up and empty. "There is no recourse, for any of you. I will have Dana. I will see that she pays for her sins against me, and my son, my Donovan will be with me once more. It's long past time for him to learn what he needs to learn."