I Dream of Danger

by Rice, Lisa Marie

  Everything in his life had changed since Catherine, not least the small bump showing in her belly. When he saw it, when he touched it, his heart gave a huge kick in his chest. His child. Their child. Though Catherine was his heart and life, this child would be his only blood relative in the world. Just thinking about it gave him the shivers.

  Catherine walked to their bed, smiling sadly. If anyone knew what it was like to be hunted down by the goons of Arka Pharmaceuticals, it was Catherine.

  Mac held his arms out and grunted with satisfaction when she went into them. The world was fucked-up almost beyond repair, but when his arms closed around his wife he could almost hear an audible click, as if a piece of sophisticated machinery were working well.

  He ran a hand down her dark, soft hair. “If Jon doesn’t find what we need tonight, we’ll just attack it full bore tomorrow. Everyone will pitch in. We’ll figure it out.”

  Looking down, he could see her smile, felt her head nod against his shoulder.

  She wasn’t quite convinced. True, there were only a few of them against a huge multinational corporation, but they were the best. And they had two secret weapons—Catherine and Elle.

  Between them the two women had about a billion advanced degrees and they were highly motivated.

  “I appreciate what you and Nick and Jon are doing.” She looked up at him, cupped the burn scar on his face. As always, when she touched him there was a sensation of deep warmth and well-being. And something else. Her eyes opened wide because she also got a blast of the surge of lust that took him. It wasn’t anything new, he felt a low-level desire whenever she was around and they were alone.

  Like now.

  She was pregnant and worked hard at the infirmary, so Mac tried really, really hard to keep a lid on it, or at least keep his dick down. If it were up to him or his cock, she’d be flat on her back all night and most of the day. But he loved her too much to act on his lust every time he felt it. She never said no, but he could read her like a book now. If she was tired, faint bruises appeared under her gorgeous silver eyes and that ivory skin became even paler. That was when he really stepped back. And he knew to keep it tucked in his pants when she was absorbed in a task.

  She was worried now, that was clear. He smoothed out the furrow between her eyebrows with his thumb. “We have to do this, honey,” he said gently. “For Nick, if nothing else. Because he’d go it alone if he had to and we simply can’t let him do that.”

  He could understand her worry. They would risk their lives for strangers. If the three of them got caught they’d be executed. They were all real clear on that. But more important than that, if they got caught or if they died, Haven would die, and not well. The small community they’d gathered around them was precious to him and to all of them. They were moving toward complete self-sufficiency, but it was still dependent on what Ghost Ops could steal or liberate from the outside world. It was dependent on Ghost Ops for protection and direction. If the three of them were gone, Haven would die.

  And his child would grow up fatherless.

  Mac squelched that thought immediately. Catherine was way too perceptive for him to allow something like that in his head.

  “I know we need to rescue them,” Catherine said quietly. “No question. And not just for Nick, for us.” She searched his face. “We need to do this. I feel it very strongly.”

  Man, when Catherine felt something strongly it was as true as true could be. But what she felt wasn’t making her happy. The lines between her brows were back and her mouth was turned down.

  Well, Mac had a cure for that. “You feel it strongly, huh?”

  His tone must have tipped her off because her head tilted and eyes narrowed as she studied him. “Mac,” she said.

  He waggled his eyebrows. “I feel something strongly too. Here.” He grabbed her hand and placed it right over his dick and ah, man. It happened again. He’d been semi hard and at her touch, at that massive warmth he always felt when she touched him, he turned hard as steel. “You can feel it.”

  Her hand cupped him. “It’s quite a . . . sensation,” she murmured.

  Mac thrust himself further into her hand. “Yeah. I have a strong feeling you should be doing something about this. Forget about those other guys. Rescue me.”

  Catherine laughed and pulled him down for a kiss. She looked excited and happy, just what he wanted.

  Mission accomplished.

  We’ll get her back,” Nick said quietly and Elle looked at him in surprise. Knowing how protective he was, she imagined he’d try to distract her, with sex probably, because she was apparently easily distractible that way. With him, at least. But Nick went right to the heart of what she felt.

  “God, I hope so.” She twined her hands and pulled them apart, an old trick. “I can’t bear the thought of her in their hands. Sophie’s nice. Good and gentle, you know?” She looked up at him.

  His face was tender. “I know. Like you, like Catherine. Would it help you to know that Jon and Mac and I haven’t failed a mission yet? Except for the one where we were betrayed.”

  Elle smiled. “Actually, it does help.” And it did. If anyone in the world could rescue her colleagues and her best friend, it was Nick, with the help of his friends. Lines of friendship becoming lines of salvation.

  They were sitting up in bed, Elle leaning against Nick’s strong shoulder. Finding comfort from just the physical contact. He placed his hand over hers, lacing his fingers through hers.

  “Let me show you something,” he said quietly in her ear.

  “To distract me?”

  “Yeah, that too. But also because it’s beautiful and we should take time to notice beautiful things.”

  Elle twisted her head around to look into his face, eyes wide. Nick, a philosopher?

  His mouth quirked. “You don’t have to look at me like that. I’m not an animal.”

  She cupped his face with her free hand. “No, you’re not.” As a matter of fact, he had being a full human being down pat. It was a new way of looking at him, and it hit her heart with the force of a blow. He looked tired, new lines in his face. He, Mac, and Jon were hunted men and yet instead of thinking of keeping themselves safe, they protected an entire community.

  He had taken her problems entirely upon his shoulders so naturally that only now she realized he’d done so.

  Elle had been almost blinded by her sexual attraction to him and the very strong emotions he evoked in her. She’d seen him as almost superhuman, something more than a man. And he was, but he was also a man. Who presumably felt tired and despondent, who might be sad that his life as a soldier had been trashed, who felt the weight of responsibility for the many souls in Haven who depended on him and his teammates.

  But he never let that show.

  She saw the full man now. With all his many strengths and very few weaknesses. She was one of his weaknesses.

  “Show me,” she whispered. If there was something beautiful he wanted her to see, she wanted to see it.

  “Okay. Brace yourself.”

  Nick reached for something, pressed something, and Elle’s breath caught in her lungs.

  The walls of the room simply . . . disappeared. It was as if the bed had been magically transported into the forest by a benevolent wizard. All around them was deep snow in the moonlight, a bright moon barely visible among the clouds. It had snowed earlier and the forecast was for more snow. For now, though, the scene was calm and ge
ntle. Picture-postcard perfect in an imperfect world.

  “Like it?” Nick’s deep voice was right against her ear and she shivered. Everything felt so . . . magnified. The beauty of the scene—their bed magically transported to an enchanted forest—the love she felt for the man beside her. The intense affection she was starting to nurture for the outlaw community she’d joined.

  “I love it. How did you—” Her voice caught because he was kissing the oh-so-sensitive skin behind her ear and because his hand was smoothing up her thigh, taking her nightgown with it.

  “Hmm?” he purred. She felt the vibration of his naked chest against her back. Nick slept naked, which she thought was a bit of overkill. He was a temptation dressed. Naked, he was simply irresistible.

  “How did you manage to make the walls disappear?” Because that was a bit much, even for Nick. Even for Haven.

  “They didn’t disappear. They turned into monitors. What you’re seeing comes from remote cameras we have ringing Haven. It’s one specific spot, one of my favorites. But later we’ll program it to other spots you might like. This scene is real time, but we could show a recording. Sunrise or sunset.” His hand found her core, one rough finger circling her opening. Her head fell back against his shoulder. “Anything you want, honey.”

  “Oh God, Nick.”

  “Yeah? Is this what you want?” One big finger slid inside her and she shuddered. Ten minutes ago if anyone had asked her, she’d have said she wasn’t up for sex. Too tired, too tense, too scared. But that was then and this was now. All her troubles and worries coalesced somewhere outside her. Maybe swirling in that glorious landscape outside. They were still there, but far away. They’d come back of course, but for now, she was concentrated on her body. On the feel of a naked Nick against her back, his finger stroking heat inside her.

  He bit her. Lightly. Not enough to hurt but certainly enough to galvanize her, like a jolt of electricity. She broke out in goose bumps and could feel her sex become wet, more open to him.

  “That’s right, honey,” he murmured directly in her ear and she shivered. “Think about this. Think about me doing this to you.” The finger slid in deeper, slid out, slid even further in. “Don’t think of anything but this.”

  “Speaking of thinking . . .”

  She jumped when his thumb circled her clitoris and his hold on her tightened. She could feel his erect penis against her back, but he made no move to enter her. Just held her and touched her and bit her and licked her, all the while his finger moving in her now-slick folds with a light sucking sound and everything she was, all her senses swirled inward in an ever tightening circle until with one last stroke of his thumb, she fell over the edge, tightening around him endlessly as her climax took over.

  “Oh,” she sighed.

  “Thinking what?” That deep voice in her ear. She shivered.

  “What?”

  “Thinking. You said speaking of thinking . . .”

  Mmm. Thinking. Now that was a pointless activity right now, when every cell in her body felt replete and swollen. She sighed again.

  Nick nudged her shoulder with his. “You were going to say something.”

  “I was. I got distracted.”

  “Focus.”

  Focus. Easier said than done while he was cupping her breast. But the thought had been important— “Oh.”

  “Yeah?”

  She turned to face him, placing a hand against his cheek. The slight bristle of stubble tickled her hand. “I should shave.”

  “Yes, you should, but that’s not what I wanted to say. Catherine told me that she suspected that sex, really, really good sex, which I gather is the kind she and Mac have, increases her power. That she thinks sex made her slightly telepathic, more so with Mac.”

  The smile broadened. “Sex, huh?”

  “Really, really good sex,” she said primly.

  “We’ll see about that.” Nick slid out from behind her, eased her down in the bed. He kissed her, endlessly, one hand cupping her head, the other stroking her sex. She was very wet, almost embarrassingly so. He circled her with his finger, dipped into her. She was almost hyperaroused from the climax. The feel of his rough finger against her sensitive tissues was almost electric in its intensity.

  He took his hand away but before she could object, he curled her hand around his erection. Oh God. It felt so good. Hard and hot, the skin almost velvety. She pumped her hand up and down, feeling the effect on him. His breathing speeded up, his mouth bit at hers, the hard muscles of his back became even harder.

  “Put me in you,” he whispered in her mouth.

  Elle shifted, opened her legs further, brought him to her and nearly cried out as he slid into her, hot and hard and deep. They both stilled for a moment, as if moving would be sensory overkill.

  Nick raised his torso up on his forearms and watched her eyes as he started moving in her. Slowly at first, watching every inch of her face as she watched his. How wonderful to watch him, to see the pleasure she gave him while feeling the slow honey of the pleasure he gave her. She locked her ankles in the small of his back, loving the feeling of his hard, thick muscles moving against her, in her.

  She moved to kiss his sweaty shoulder, eyes closed. I love you so much, Nick, she thought and he suddenly stilled.

  She opened her eyes to find his face slack with shock. His eyes glowed with an eerie light, skin tight across his cheekbones, neck tendons taut with tension.

  “I love you too, Elle,” he said. She brought her hand to her mouth in shock.

  I heard you. In my head. His voice. Inside her head.

  I hear you too.

  Nick kissed her savagely, slamming into her almost violently. Hard, fast, furious, as if he were trying to crawl inside her body, as if he could physically make them one.

  Now, Nick.

  His movements became even faster as they clung to each other desperately and just as desperately climaxed. She could feel her internal muscles clenching hard around him, as if to draw him even more deeply inside her.

  He slumped on her, limp and sweaty, holding her so tightly she could barely breathe.

  When he whispered sleep in her head, she did.

  Sleep took her like a beloved friend and she fell endlessly into its embrace. Images bloomed, bright and surreal, the stuff of dreams.

  And then—and then she Dreamed.

  She flew high above the earth, pure being, unrestricted by the rules of space and time. No emotion, just purpose, arrowing straight to a city by the bay, to invisible cages and the desperate faces of friends held by monsters, friends who had lost hope, friends who called to her . . .

  She bolted up in bed. Nick sat up too, turning a sober, serious face to her.

  “I know where they are,” she said and he nodded.

  Palo Alto

  Jon crouched in the bushes a block from Elle’s home. He checked his handheld. It had a special screened monitor that was visible only to him via a lens on his nightvision binoculars. It emitted no light that could be seen by anyone else.

  He checked the images sent by the overhead drone. First, he checked himself, pleased but not surprised to see that he didn’t show up on any part of the spectrum—not visually, not in IR, and not in thermal. He was covered head to toe in stealth gear that wouldn’t be available to civilians. Technically, it wasn’t available to him either. He’d liberated it from a military installation in Texas.
r />   The drone showed that the neighborhood was empty, no security goons held behind to keep an eye out for a lone woman scientist who might want to go back to her home. Pity. He’d have welcomed a fight.

  These were the same fuckers who had tortured his commanding officer and three of the best teammates in the world. Jon had to stop for a second to breathe his rage back out. Rage did no one any good. Just when he thought he had himself under control, though, a vision of Elle’s friend Sophie flashed in his head.

  She didn’t look like Catherine or Elle, but she had their look—smart, gentle, guileless. Someone who worked for the good of humanity. And beautiful, on top of that. The world didn’t grow too many women like that and now she was hunted, too.

  She, too, could end up like Lucius—a tormented animal, a lab rat hounded to death.

  Goddamn.

  He waited another second to get himself back under control. That was a surprise. Jon had plenty of self-control. He knew exactly what kind of face he presented to the world. Relaxed, cool, hip. Mac and Nick—now, they looked like warriors. Cold and tough and fearsome. Not Jon. He cultivated that loose, friendly look. Those who didn’t know him probably thought he mellowed out on drugs. They couldn’t know how much he hated drugs. And they couldn’t know he was a soldier who had killed many times.

  Jon kept himself detached, doing what he knew had to be done, but more like a pest controller stamping out cockroaches than a man on a crusade.

  He didn’t feel cool or detached when he thought of Sophie Daniels in the hands of the men who’d tortured his commanding officer and his teammates, though. He felt white hot rage, so powerful it distorted his senses. Fuck this, he thought. Get yourself under control. He wasn’t doing anyone any good wallowing in his emotions, imagining even now Elle’s pretty friend strapped down to a table, being cut, being hurt . . .

  Shit.

  In Ghost Ops they’d been taught to control their autonomous system. They were shooters and could slow their own heart rate down to take the shot. He crouched for another full minute, eyes closed, slowing down his breathing, taking down his heartbeat, resolutely not thinking of pretty Sophie Daniels being hurt.