by Jaime Rush
He got to his feet as she took a shuddering breath, looking around as though she’d just woken from a trance. He grabbed up her bra and shirt and pressed them into her hands.
“Tell me it was all a nightmare.” She sounded so much like a scared little girl who’d just woken up from a bad dream that he couldn’t help but draw her close.
“I’m sorry.”
He held her, skin against skin, wishing he could just absorb her into his body, keep her safe and warm.
Ah, she-it, don’t think thoughts like that. Those are more dangerous than anything you just went through.
He kissed her temple, feeling something open inside him.
“I tried to use my ability to help. I made a glass globe fall down. That’s all I could do. Big freakin’ deal.”
“You did the best you could. You’ll get better at it.”
She looked up at him. “Do you think so?”
“Definitely.”
“What about Eric?”
“Petra can heal him, remember? He’ll be okay.”
“He was going to shoot us.”
“The enemy Offspring got into his head. Had to be. The guy was probably telling Eric to shoot you, and he fought it.”
She shivered. “He shot himself. To save us.”
“Yeah, I know.” He’d never forget that. As much of a bonehead as Eric was, he would take his life rather than take out his comrades.
A few minutes later she stepped back. “How are we supposed to win against these people?” The light cast her face in silvery planes of moonshine and shadows. “They can get into our heads.”
“We fight because we can’t give up.”
She buried her face in her hands, still holding her clothing, and took a deep breath. “I’m sorry I freaked out. It was too much.”
He touched her chin, lifting her face to his. “It’s all right. But we’d better get back.”
She clipped on her bra and slid her shirt back on. He roused himself to put on his shirt only when she looked at him.
She was beautiful. Even now, even in this wrong place and wrong time, she was so damned beautiful, it hurt.
He had to get out of there. Despite the thought, he didn’t resist when she slid her hand into his as they walked.
She looked around at the shadows surrounding them. “I hope we can find our way back.”
“Me, too. I don’t want to spend the night here.”
“St. Thomas. St. Kitts. Fiji. Paradise Island.” She tilted her head. “Calming myself.”
It took a lot longer to get back to the bike than it had to race away from it. He slapped at the mosquitoes that had now found them. “I’d better call, let them know we’re on our way. See how Eric’s doing.” That’s what you do when you’re part of a group. For now, for a little while, you’re part of this group. He punched in the numbers.
Amy answered. “Rand? Are you two all right?”
These people really cared. “Yeah.” He cleared the hoarseness from his throat and looked at Zoe. “I was a little too buggin’ to be riding a bike. We stopped for a few minutes to unscramble our brains. How’s Eric?”
“Petra healed him, the same way she did Lucas. But it took a lot out of her.”
Relief flood through him. “We’re heading back now. See you in a few.” He disconnected and relayed Eric’s status to her. “Are you all right to ride?”
She nodded, slapping at mosquitoes. “You didn’t have to lie to cover my freak-out.”
Another sign that he was in big trouble.
Remember, all you care about is yourself. Look out for number one and all that.
He handed her the helmet, avoiding her gaze. “Let’s roll.”
CHAPTER 15
A
s much as Zoe didn’t like being closed up in the ground, she was relieved to get back to the tomb. Amy was curled up in the corner of the pit group, Lucas’s arms around her. The sight of it reminded her how Rand had held her in the woods, which then led to what had almost happened afterward, and—screech! Stop those thoughts.
Relief washed over Amy’s features. “Thank God you’re back.”
“It was me.” Zoe grabbed up a pillow and hugged it to her chest as she dropped to the floor. Her gaze went to a new painting on the wall, a multicolored sun with half a happy face and half a sad face. She forced her eyes to them. “We stopped because of me. I freaked.” She couldn’t let Rand take the blame for that.
He merely raised his eyebrow at her admission while he slumped into the chair as though his bones had dissolved.
Amy’s fingers still trembled as she brushed a strand of stiff hair from her face. “It’s all right. That whole scene was freaky.”
Rand looked around. “Where’s Eric? And Petra?”
“In Petra’s room. She was out of it when we got back. We carried her in. When we last checked, Eric was kneeling by her bed, watching over her.”
The idea of that was such an anomaly for Eric that Zoe was tempted to see the sight for herself. “Did he say anything about what happened?”
“Not much. He’s pretty shook-up,” Lucas said. “Only that the guy got into his head, and this time he mind-controlled him to shoot us. Thank God Eric fought it. But what happens next time?”
The fear that had overtaken her in the woods rushed back. “How do we win against these people? They have the government on their side, the police, and they have Offspring, powerful Offspring.”
A hoarse voice from the hallway said, “We destroy this guy.”
Eric stumbled into the living room and collapsed onto the couch. It was unnerving to see the usually strong, brash Eric looking so pale and weak. The right leg of his jeans was cut up the middle and blood stained the denim. Zoe stared at the red welt that replaced the wound she’d seen a short time ago.
He caught her awed expression. “It’s a friggin’ miracle, isn’t it?”
She could only nod. “I mean, I know you told me how she healed Lucas, but seeing it…I still can’t believe it.”
Eric leaned forward and rubbed his hands down his face. “She should have let me die. What if that son of a bitch comes back in my head?” He gave Lucas a grave look, one that held undertones Zoe couldn’t interpret. “If I ever point a gun at anyone in our group again, take me down. Because if I killed one of us, I’d kill myself.”
Amy said, “Don’t talk like that.” She looked at Lucas, who shared the same dark expression as Eric. “None of us is killing anyone in our group. Bottom line, you took back your control.”
Fear lit his icy blue eyes. “It took everything in me. It was the strongest impulse I’ve ever felt. I had to shoot someone, and it couldn’t be the enemy. The directive was so strong…” He pinched the bridge of his nose.
When he looked up again, the fire in his eyes had returned. “I will destroy him. Just like with Gladstone, I have to get him before he gets me. Or any of us.”
No one argued with that.
Lucas said, “We need to find out who he is. Maybe it’s this Braden guy.”
Rand rubbed his finger down his chin, where his goatee used to be, reminding her of kissing that slight indent there. “Can we assume that Braden’s one of them?”
Lucas nodded. “Probably. When I asked where Braden was, the guy holding us at gunpoint said it was none of my concern. Then he gave me a smug smile. They obviously knew we were going to approach him and set up this other guy to take his place.” He looked at Amy. “You saw Braden’s profile when you sneaked onto Cyrus’s computer to find information on more Offspring.”
“Yeah, but they couldn’t know that it was me.”
Zoe’s voice cracked when she said, “Maybe they have someone who can see into the future?”
Lucas gingerly touched the cut on his temple. “The damned of it is, they could. We know they have two Offspring working for them, a man and a woman. The guy—Braden maybe—can get into Eric’s head and remote-view; maybe she can see the future.”
Zoe covered her face wit
h her hands. “Then they know what we’re going to do! We’re going to die. They’re going to get us.”
The microwave beeped. Papers on the table fluttered to the floor, and the canvas on the easel fell forward. Three pens flew off the desk, and Eric had to duck to miss getting hit.
“Don’t wig out. You sound like Petra.” Eric picked up the pen and stared at it, then her.
“Sorry.” She pressed her forehead to her knees and took deep breaths. “Montego Bay. Negril. Cayman Islands.” She didn’t dare look at Rand because she’d think about when she really did freak out in the woods.
At Eric’s raised eyebrow, Rand explained, “She does that to calm herself down.”
Eric looked at Amy. “What about the other guy’s profile that you saw? Jerryl Evrard.”
Lucas rubbed the back of his neck. “Do we dare approach anyone else?”
Eric said, “It’s a good bet that he’s not working with them, at least not yet. The sooner we get to him, the better. First, we’ve got to make sure he’s an Offspring. If Amy can’t see his glow, we don’t approach, period.”
The thought of going on another mission sent a decorative pillow rolling off the couch to land near Rand’s feet. She stared at it, focusing her attention on it. Move, dammit.
It jumped up and landed on Rand’s lap.
“I did that! On purpose. Well, not putting it in your lap, but moving it. I’m going to get better at this.” She looked at the three on the couch. “I’m going to get really good at it, so the next time we’re stuck at gunpoint, I can send the globe into his head.”
Eric gave her a thumbs-up. “That’s the spirit.”
Rand stretched out his legs. “And I’m going to work on seeing farther ahead. That Darkwell dude seemed to think I could.”
“Good.” Lucas shook his head. “Because I’m still getting nothing. Eric, what about you? Did you lose your skills, too?”
He shrugged. “I’m too tired to light a cigarette with a lighter, much less psychically.” But the fear that he’d lost his ability tensed all the muscles in his square face. “I’ll try to remote-view tomorrow.”
“How’s Petra?” Amy asked.
“Asleep,” Eric said.
“She looked really pale after she healed you. I saw her holding her leg.” Amy turned to Lucas. “When she healed you, she said she could feel your wound.”
Lucas lifted his shirt, revealing a muscular chest and a small red welt like the one on Eric’s leg. “She’s taking on our wounds.”
Zoe leaned forward. “Cheveyo warned her to be careful about healing mortal wounds. He said it could destroy her psychically.”
Eric waved that away. “What does he know?”
“A lot. He knew I was in trouble in Key West. He knew that you all were here. And he knew that when she heals, the person loses his or her ability.”
That killed the argument Eric was about to continue. He let out an agonized breath. “If she dies…”
Amy held out her hand to stop him from going further. “Let’s not go there. She’s going to be fine. But we can’t let her heal those types of injuries anymore.” She looked at the three of them. “We’re on our own.”
Lucas brushed Amy’s hair back from her face. “We do have one advantage. They think I’m dead. The guy at the house assumed I was Rand.”
Eric said, “And now he’ll probably think I’m dead, too. We took out three of Darkwell’s men tonight, injured if not dead. We need to move in on this other Offspring before Darkwell gets replacements. He may have what we need to find Robbins.”
Lucas rested his head against the back of the couch. “We need time to recoup from this one.”
Eric’s mouth tightened in impatience. “One day.”
Lucas held up two fingers. “Petra needs time.”
Eric’s resolve faltered at that. “All right, two days. Amy, can you talk to Cyrus, see if he knows whether this guy is one of them?”
Her face paled at that, but she nodded. “I’ll try.”
Lucas turned on the television. “Let’s see if there’s anything on the news about the shooting.”
A few minutes later a breaking-news announcement cut in. The female reporter said, “We are at the scene of the bizarre shooting in Eastport that we told you about earlier. I have Captain Tony Sanchez of the Annapolis Police Department here. Captain Sanchez, can you tell us what’s going on?”
A nice-looking Latino man stepped in front of the camera. “The investigation is just getting started, and we don’t know yet exactly what we have here. At approximately 10:00 P.M. our 911 center began receiving calls from neighbors about a disturbance, saying they saw people running around this house, and that two different cars were seen coming and going from the scene at a high rate of speed. Some callers reported hearing what sounded like gunshots.”
The reporter cut in. “We understand you’ve found blood.”
“Blood was found on the street, but so far no bodies or guns have been found. We’re presently trying to contact the owner of the house to get permission to enter. We are also in communication with the District Attorney’s Office, discussing the possibility of obtaining a search warrant for the residence if we can’t get in touch with the owner. As you can see, this is a very active crime scene as the investigation continues. That’s all the information we have at this time.”
Cameras panned to a cordoned-off area in the street, closing in on what looked like a blood spill, to the house where police officers worked the yard, then back to the reporter.
“The house belongs to Nicholas Braden, a salvage diver. According to one neighbor, Braden hasn’t been around in the last few weeks.”
The screen changed to an elderly woman with red, plump cheeks. “Nicholas is such a nice boy, always helps take my trash cans out or fixes the things that get broken. I can’t imagine he’d be involved in something like this.”
The reporter’s face filled the screen again. “We’ll keep you informed about what happened here in the days to come.”
Lucas turned off the television. “Either Darkwell had more men nearby, or the two weren’t mortally injured and were able to clean up and get out before the police arrived.”
Eric stood. “I was shooting in the dark, so I don’t know where I hit my guy.”
Rand rubbed the spot between his eyebrows. “I saw him crawl away. I only coldcocked the guy at the back door. But I probably killed the guy in the house.”
Eric held up his fist. “Say that last part with pride, my friend. Too bad you didn’t take out two of them.”
Rand didn’t look proud at all. He looked haunted.
Eric jabbed his thumb back toward the hall. “I’m going to check on Petra. I’ll see you in the morning.”
“We all need to rest.” Lucas helped Amy to her feet. The subtle difference in the way he looked at her, as though he were going to lose her, scared Zoe. Did he know something he wasn’t telling?
Zoe struggled to her feet, her legs like rubber. A hand reached down, surprising her. She took it, and Rand pulled her up. He let go as soon as she gained her footing.
They’d gotten too close. For those frantic moments in the woods, she’d wanted to feel alive and safe. She’d wanted something she never wanted before—someone to watch over her.
She still did.
Involuntarily, she glanced over at Rand, who was watching Lucas and Amy with an odd expression, almost like longing. He sensed her gaze and met it before snapping his attention away.
Not him. Besides, she didn’t need anyone to watch over her. Just as she’d been doing since she graduated and moved out of her mother’s house, she would take care of herself.
He followed her down the stairs. “I’m going to jump in the shower. I’ll just be a minute.”
She listened to the water running, imagining it sluicing down his naked body. Zoe, you just need a human touch, that’s all. It could be anyone. Well, not Lucas. Eric. Yeah, it could be Eric. Okay, not Eric. Too hard and edgy. But it d
oesn’t have to be Rand. Any strong, sexy male would do.
You keep telling yourself that, kid.
She inhaled the soap-scented steam that floated beneath the connecting door.
A few minutes later, he knocked. “All yours.”
All mine. With a sigh, she opened the door in time to see him go into his bedroom, towel around his waist, tight over his derriere. The sight of that rumpled bed tugged at her. She wanted to crawl into it and feel his body protectively curled around hers.
He glanced at her briefly. “Something wrong?”
She shook her head, need washing over her and pushing the words, Let me sleep with you tonight. Just hold me, up her throat. She closed the door.
Lucas had let Amy shower first, and while he showered, she stood at the dresser mirror and stared at her reflection. She should be in that shower with him, running her soapy hands over his body. They shouldn’t be acting like roommates, covering their nudity, holding back the need to bury themselves in each other’s bodies.
In the mirror she saw the sensuous paintings Lucas had done of their dream encounters. The first time she’d seen them, she’d been stunned. Now they filled her with bittersweet longing.
He came out of the bathroom, wearing only pajama bottoms, and stopped when he saw her. “That shade looks good on you.”
Did he think that was why she was staring morosely into the mirror? The dark blond hair looked odd, but she didn’t care about that.
She crooked her finger at him. “Come here.” He walked up behind her, draping his arms around her shoulders and looking at their reflection. She took in his almond-shaped eyes, thick brows, and full lips. Voice hoarse, she said, “Our eyes…noses…mouths…they don’t look alike. You don’t have freckles. Your complexion is olive, and mine is pale. Your hair is wavy and glossy, mine’s frizzy. There’s nothing similar in our features.”
His expression softened. “No, there isn’t.” She stared until her eyes watered. “Not one thing.” “It’ll be okay, babe.” He turned her around and pulled her close.
She pressed her face against his chest, breathing in the scent of him, fresh and clean and slightly damp. “When we find out for sure that we’re not related…” She looked at him. “When we make love again, I want you to make noise.”