Upstairs the floors were hardwood. Londo watched his target in the master bedroom checking into closets, into the attached bath, anything that had a door. Assured that there was no one here, the man slung his rifle up and back on his shoulder and then shuffled his hands through dresser drawers. There he found some jewelry: rings, a watch. He stuck them in his pocket and moved to more drawers.
The door from the hall to the bedroom had hinges that would swing in, so Londo couldn’t hide behind it for an ambush. A shallow linen cabinet stood in the hallway adjacent to the next door, one to a bathroom. Londo took his position inside that door, hidden by the cabinet. He waited patiently. Professionally.
The man finished his search of the room. Peering all around, he emerged into the hall. He held his rifle stiffly in front of himself, ready to fire.
Now Londo took the pill he’d found in the bathroom and threw it hard against the top of the wall, above the man’s line of sight. Tok. The man and gun turned to the slight sound.
Lon shot out of his hiding place. He rammed three fingers unmercifully into the nerve cluster in the man’s neck, right off the jugular. Lon’s thumb dug at the top of the spinal column. The rifleman crumpled immediately. Lon caught him, grabbing his rifle lest it go off. He eased the man to the floor. No noise.
With the first one tied, gagged, and left lying in the bedroom, Lon peered through the floor to see where the other two men had gone. One was entering the back door; he must have gone outside to search.
Lina! Was she all right? Londo’s breath caught as he sought her. There. She still sat behind those bushes, well-hidden from the house. Still, it seemed to him that she looked up directly at him as he looked at her. Such a strange girl.
The remaining mercenary slunk through one of the wide, elegant rooms downstairs. The first floor sprawled about four times as large as the second, numerous salons crowded with modern western furnishings, wet bars and electronics. This must be quite the party house when people were here.
The merc found a painting on hinges that swung out to reveal the door of a wall safe. He glanced around and then rummaged through a small pack on his belt.
From his position, Londo smiled. This one would be last.
Moving silently to the back stairs, Lon positioned himself almost on the opposite side of the house from man number three, but around the corner from the one who’d just come inside. He stood above where the wall opened over a large pantry or butler’s supply room with neat cabinetry hiding dishes, cleaning supplies, and canned goods.
Below him, the second man emerged. Londo vaulted the stair rail and landed squarely on him. The merc rolled as they fell. Though the impact knocked his breath out, he still grabbed Londo. The power of that hand sinking into his flesh shocked Lon to the core. He was human now. What wouldn’t have affected him in the least now hurt. He could feel himself bruising from the fall. He had bones that could be broken, a body that could be killed.
Save it for later—this man had a bear grip! The mercenary hooked his arm around Lon’s neck and clutched with his great paw of a hand, aiming for Lon’s eyes. Lon buried his elbow in the man’s stomach. It worked so well he repeated it hard as he could, then hauled the gasping man’s hand away from his eyes, pinning it to the wall.
But the bear-man surprised him. Even without breath he rose up reaching for his gun as Londo loomed above him. The parahero kicked him down again, slammed the man’s head against the floor and grabbed the pressure points under both ears. He pressed and held until the man slumped. Lon punched him with dagger-like fingers on the pressure point to the heart, then on the back of the neck. The man lay limp on the floor.
“Ow,” Londo allowed himself the luxury of saying as he rubbed his sore hand. He stretched and massaged the back of his neck, then tested the ankle he’d fallen on, before he tied this one up. One more to go.
Man number three and last was up to his elbows reaching into the back of the safe. He dredged out small notebooks and strings of jewelry that fell to the floor in front of him. Londo took advantage of the noise to creep across the rug behind him.
Suddenly the thief pivoted, swinging his rifle down level and ready. A second of surprise bloomed on his face, then fear as he beheld Valiant before him—but Londo froze and the man’s features slowly hardened into a sneering grin.
“Valiant himself, eh? One more step and you’re hist’ry.” He had a broad Australian accent. “Ralpho!” he shouted. “Barnes!” He waited for some acknowledgement and Londo smiled dangerously at him.
“I don’t think they’ll be coming to help. Drop the gun and I won’t hurt you. Tell me what this operation is.”
The thief eyed him warily before his hard face relaxed. “What’s going on is that you don’t have any powers, Valiant, do you? If I let loose with a couple here, you’d be on the floor dead in your own blood, right? Your hands won’t do you much good against my gun.”
Damn himself anyway! Lon never operated with guns. It had never occurred to him to take one of his captives’ weapons. Stupid! Now what were his options? “I take it that means that you’re not going to cooperate,” Londo growled.
The man laughed at him. “You’ve still got your balls, at least,” he said. “Now hands on your head. Get over there.” He motioned with his gun to a velvet chair. “Looks quite cushy, don’t it? Sit down.”
**Lina! Lina!**
**Londo? Time to—?**
**Shut up and listen.** He held a terse conversation with her as he slowly, so slowly retreated in front of the man’s gun.
“What,” the man said, “are you slower than a wet week when you don’t have your powers? Move, Valiant!”
Lon grudgingly turned and sat in the chair, watching the man’s every move. The thief already held a length of rope and Lon could see tapes and cords in his backpack, ready for use. **Now, Lina, now!**
“Yoo hoo! Sally, are you in there?!”
The man whirled at the sudden female halloo from outside. Londo jumped up, sending him sprawling on the carpet. The rifle went off—just one round. Londo slammed his fist hard into the back of the man’s neck and he went limp.
Lina’s face appeared at the window. Her eyes opened wide as she took in the scene and then focused on Londo. “Are you—”
“And what would have happened if he’d won and there you are with your head in the window?” Londo chastised her. “Just a little more caution, Lina. Just a bit.”
She frowned uncertainly at him. “Yes, Commander. Are you all right?”
He let himself relax as he sat on top of his prisoner. “I’m fine. Consider this a signal to figure out the car while I truss this one up.”
She nodded and disappeared. Londo got to work.
Chapter 5
She’d been gone an awfully long time. Londo took extra care to bind these mercenaries thoroughly. They’d have been trained to free themselves if at all possible.
**How’s it coming?** he asked her at one point.
**Damn. I guess I’m too dumb to be a criminal. Let me try something else.**
Lon couldn’t find keys on the thief anywhere. He dragged the first man downstairs, letting the body bump-bump, bump-bump with every step, and brought him in to join his comrade on the living room floor. Then he went into the back and bent down to get a good grip on the bear man’s bindings.
Abruptly the front windows blew in. Glass cascaded in daggers as something outside exploded with a roar. The Jeep! Jesus christ, Lina! He heard timbers breaking, followed by a much smaller, secondary explosion. Metal on metal. A momentary overwhelming stench of gasoline.
Lon used his para-vision to find the Jeep beyond the front wall of the house, only to see pieces of twisted metal, shards of glass and tire and cloth lying on the ground. Hardly any smoke. Spatters of crimson dotted everything. He clamped his eyes shut; he didn’t want to see body parts. Not Lina’s. Oh lord. A human caught in that would have been blown into pieces instantly.
He turned from the scene as the bear stirr
ed. Lon kicked him hard and he lay still. The bastard must have had some kind of remote incendiary device wired to the Jeep in case it fell into enemy hands.
Christ, Lina. Lina! As he dragged the bear behind him, Lon wanted to cry. She’d been so beautiful, so brave. So perfect for him for tonight. He felt guilty to dismiss her entire life just thinking about the night he had lost, but here it was. She was gone.
But in addition to the promise of the night, he realized that part of the magic of the world had drained away with her loss. Spirit guides and psychic healing and mind talking that seemed so much more intimate than ordinary talk. That smile of hers. Those guileless eyes. His insides twisted in anger, in frustration, in loss.
Another one gone.
He wouldn’t think about it. He refused to think about it! Instead he checked his three prisoners roughly, their own handcuffs now contributing to their detention. He added a loop of twine from the cuffs to their necks—a little trick he’d learned so they wouldn’t squirm too much. Londo took pleasure in imagining their dread when they woke up, the defeat and fear they’d experience—just a start of the payback they owed him, owed Lina.
He used his newly-won knife deftly in cutting twine and knotted it too tight. A part of him wanted to lay their throats open for what they’d done to his Lina. Instead he let them fall hard to the floor when he was through with them. Bâtards!
She deserved a burial. He’d have to go out and—
“Jeez, do you have to be so rough?”
Lon spun at the voice, dropping the dagger. Lina stood in the dining room doorway. She held a cloth sack stuffed with bottles of water and newspaper to keep them from clinking.
“Lina!” He crossed to her in a second and took her in his arms to clutch her to him. She went stiff as she tried to pull away.
“I thought you were caught in the explosion.” Relief flooded him. God, he wanted to kiss her all over, hold her forever. That damned phobia! “You’re alive.”
He put down the bag for her, trying to slow himself. Then he used just two fingers to place her arms gingerly around his neck. She immediately started to draw away. “You kiss back,” he told her in a no-nonsense voice, and went in for a kiss. After a moment’s hesitation, she eased forward and their lips touched. The taste was sweet and gentle if reserved.
She broke from it almost immediately. Her face blossomed rosy pink as she didn’t meet his eyes. He lay one finger on each of her arms to keep her in position. She pinched her lips together and her brows contracted at the constraint.
“See?” he said softly. “It’s not fatal. It can even be kind of nice.”
He ran the very tip of his finger so lightly along her jaw line. Her eyes widened; her lips parted slightly with a tiny gasp.
“Now relax along here,” he said. “I’m so glad you’re alive.”
He took her mouth for a long kiss. She kept withdrawing her arms but brought them back again, as if she were forcing herself to touch him.
“Very good.” He kissed her again, daring to gently touch her waist and draw her close. She stiffened even more at that.
**You’re alive, you’re alive...**
Through the thin material of her nightie he could feel her heart speeding up, but this was a panic speed. Her breathing became erratic. She pushed him away and he backed off without protest, still smiling to see her. He could only repeat, “You’re alive.”
“I do appear to be,” she said, trying to look anywhere but at him. If anything, she turned redder. She clutched at the neckline of her shirt and gulped in air.
“Darned if I could get the car started or find a hidden key, so I figured we might need some supplies. I looked around as long as you were busy. The phone’s still working, but I had no idea who to call. The woman who lives here must be a midget, I mean little person, because her clothes are all so small. The fridge is still pretty cold even though the electricity’s off. These people haven’t been gone that long.”
Londo had to laugh at the thoroughness of her practical search. Her face was clean now, no longer covered with the dirt of their march, and her hair had been brushed and tied back. “Very good reconnaissance, Lieutenant,” he said, and that made her smile and look quickly at his eyes.
She turned curiously to the prisoners. “Ah,” she said.
“Ah what?”
“Now we know what happened to some of the people at the hotel,” she said. She bent down to inspect the bear in particular. “This guy gave me the creeps all afternoon yesterday. I was afraid to go exploring with him around. The hotel never told me that their convention was for mercenaries.”
A knot somewhere between Lon’s shoulders melted away now that one big mystery was solved. “What, the seminar about the proper application of camo makeup didn’t give them away?”
“Couldn’t get in without a membership badge.”
“Can you find out from them what’s going on?” Lon asked. “Read their minds?”
Her mouth twisted in consideration. “It’ll work better when they’re conscious. I think that’ll take a while.” She cocked her head at him. “Care for some lunch in the meantime? Do we have time?”
“I’m famished. For whatever reason, these men are far from the others, not following the search patterns. I bet they wanted to loot this place in peace, or at least before anyone else could. We have a while. I’ll make sure we’re out in time.”
“Then I’ll see what I can whip up.” She took her sack and walked into the kitchen. Londo followed, savoring the sweet sway to her as she moved.
“I saw some bedrooms in the back of the house and upstairs,” he mentioned. “There are king-size beds on the second floor—just in case those fellows are out for a long time.” She didn’t reply and he smiled to himself.
They explored the extensive pantry and kitchen and found enough to make soup and some very acceptable sandwiches. Though he sniffed at it, Lon was unsure what the meat was, but they were in no position to be choosy. They found some fruit, a few vegetables, and what they didn’t eat that was portable went into Lina’s bag for later. There was cold fruit juice for now. Lon grabbed a couple of cans of Coke to add to the bag. Simultaneously they spotted the wine.
“It’s a good relaxer,” Londo said. “All you need to do is to relax, and I bet that’ll be the end of that phobia. Or our virginity at least.”
“I’m sorry, Londo,” she said miserably. “I’m screwing up everything. Alcohol doesn’t make me drunk; it puts me to sleep. That’s a little too relaxed, isn’t it?”
“Shit,” he said before he could stop himself. “Eh bien, it was a good idea.”
“Maybe they have some tranquilizers around here somewhere.”
He regarded her with a wry smile. “It’s a good thing I have no ego, or it would be shattered by now. Apparently we need to get you drunk or doped in order for us to have sex. You don’t find anything you like about me? Nothing to start us off?”
Lina looked away from him. “I never said that.”
“You’ve been acting like that all day. You and that damned phobia of yours.”
“I’m sor—”
“So tell me, is there anything at all about me that you like? Anything that attracts you, so I can use that as a starting point?”
Her blush reappeared rosy and deep. She turned her back to him. He ran his fingers through her long ponytail. “Hal always told me,” he murmured, “he said, ‘Londo, if a woman grows her hair so long that you can’t stop yourself from touching it, well, that’s why she grew it that long to begin with.’ Is that right, Lina? Who did you want touching your hair?”
She said nothing and he placed his hands very slowly and lightly on her shoulders. “Let me touch you, Lina. I won’t hurt you.” Only the tiniest of trembles reached him. She turned her face slightly and he leaned to kiss her on the cheek.
“They say a woman’s skin is ten times more sensitive than a man’s,” he whispered in her ear, “and today my skin is a million times more sensitive than it
usually is. My hand—it’s only my hand. And it’s only your arm.” He ran his hand as slowly as he could down her left arm, and she followed it with her eyes. Then he did the same with her quivering right arm. He caressed her fingers, stroking them, and slid his hands back up to her shoulders. She shuddered under his touch but did not pull away.
“You’re living in fear, not enjoyment,” he whispered. “Switch gears. Time for pleasure, beautiful Lina. Carolina in my mind. Give it five minutes to see if it isn’t pleasurable. Just five minutes.”
Her breathing ran ragged and sharp despite her attempts to quiet it. She couldn’t speak, only shake her head. “Let me... let me try to find some tranquilizers,” she managed to say at last.
“And there go the last shreds of my self-image.” He let go of her with a heavy sigh.
“Londo, it’s not you at all. I’m sorry.”
“Just let me gather myself together and do what I can before I collapse in utter shame. Tell you what, I’ll mosey around and see what else we can find here. If you hear anything, anything at all from either those guys or outside, give me a call and I’ll come running.”
“Okay.” The smile she gave him was watery. “Can you give me five minutes first before I have to keep an ear out? Do we have time?”
“Five minutes?”
“I was thinking about a shower.”
He sidled close to her again. “That might be a very good idea. But the water’s probably all gone cold by now. You’ll need someone to warm you up in there.”
“You’ve been watching too much Playboy Channel.”
“Uh huh.”
“Give me my dress while you’re at it.” She reached to the pocket he’d put it in and pulled it out before he could protest.
“What do you need that for?”
“I’m going to try something.” She glanced sharply at his questioning face. “You have first watch,” she told him.
“D’accord; all right. But don’t use up all the water. I wouldn’t mind getting clean again, too.”
Touch of Danger (Three Worlds) Page 7