The Reunited

by Shiloh Walker

  Uncurling from the ball she’d drawn herself into, she sat up and stared out the window as Taylor slowed down. “I don’t like doing this with just us.”

  “No time,” Taylor said, shaking his head. “Wasn’t supposed to go down this fast, and we’re running on a shoestring these days as it is. If I had more intel, I could bring in one of the regular units, but—”

  “It’s just us.”

  She reached down and pulled her ID from her bag. She rarely used the damn thing anymore. Somehow, though, she couldn’t just walk away from the unit entirely. Some part of her understood there would be times she knew she was needed, she guessed. Slipping the cord around her neck, she adjusted her jacket, her weapons. “It’s damn dark in there,” she murmured.

  “Yes. And that’s the truck Crawford is using.”

  * * *

  THE screaming was about to drive Joss out of his mind until he managed to ice it down.

  Yeah, yeah, the ice wasn’t good, but he’d already figured out what he needed to figure out, and if he kept hearing the screaming, he was going to go insane, and how much good would he be then?

  And he needed to come through this sane, because there were about two hundred and fifty thousand questions he needed answered. Couldn’t do that if he was in the hospital getting treated for a mental breakdown.

  Even through his shields, though, he heard the echo of that scream.

  Nalini seemed fine.

  Dru was unperturbed.

  The redheaded guy looked a little off, but what did he know?

  Then they came to a door, and both Dru and her guy—what were they to each other?—moved off to one side, standing close enough to touch, while the man studied Joss and Nalini with dark, stormy eyes. He angled his chin toward the door. “Damned federal op, you go in first,” he said. His gaze dropped, eyeing the vests both he and Nalini had put on before they left the SUV.

  Abruptly, he was all too aware of Dru’s lack of a vest. Even the guy’s. Too vulnerable.

  Bad idea, bad idea.

  “You two need to leave,” he whispered.

  “Oh, hell, no. Tucker, you with me?” Dru said, not even looking at Joss.

  Shit. Shit. Shit—

  The fervency of that scream increased and he knew there was no time. None at all.

  “We go in first,” Joss said.

  Tucker skimmed a hand back over his hair, sighing. “Now wasn’t that what I just said.” He snagged Dru’s arm, tugging her over.

  Joss looked at Nalini. “High or low?”

  “Low.”

  They stared at each other. Joss took a deep breath and then shoved open the door.

  And stepped into hell.

  * * *

  VAUGHNNE had held it as long as she could.

  She hadn’t been joking when she told Joss she could turn his brain into a sieve, but it wouldn’t be a fun exercise.

  She’d tried just piercing their minds, doing that to hold them at bay, but one of them had been a psychic null.

  As he’d moved on her, her control had faltered and she’d slipped up. Two of them were on the ground, convulsing and bleeding from their ears. And she had the memory of how it had felt to break their brains in her mind.

  Fuck—

  But at least she had a gun now, one with a nightscope . . . score. There were no lights in here, save for a few small, high windows.

  Holding it steady on the man she considered to blame, she smiled.

  “Put it down and I won’t kill you,” he said.

  Oh, yeah. Like that was going to make her feel all warm and fuzzy.

  There were still two others in the room, and they were recovering from her mental attack. She launched another one, swaying a little from the toll it took. “How about you put it down and I won’t kill you?” she said.

  “You’re outnumbered,” he said, shrugging. Then he glanced behind him, although how much he’d be able to see in the dim light, she didn’t know.

  His partners were still incapacitated, but not for much longer.

  Hurry it up, Crawford, she all but screamed to the man on the other side of the door.

  The women had huddled in the corner. Not willingly. She had to use sharp mental jabs on each of them, but if they’d moved, they’d be in the way. No innocent bystanders. Now they were as out of the way as they could be. Good thing, too.

  It was show time.

  “Not for long.” She smiled.

  She made sure to sever the connections with anybody and everybody as she turned and lunged for the other women.

  Get down, Vaughnne. Get the other women down, Crawford warned.

  We’re down and ready. DO IT. She held her breath . . . said a prayer.

  The door swung open.

  She heard a muffled curse, followed by shots.

  Then silence.

  Joss’s familiar, surly voice sliced the hair. “Vaughnne?”

  Vaughnne sighed. Closed her eyes. It was over. She thought.

  In her mind, she saw a face.

  Sugar, I’m sorry I didn’t get here in time . . . rest in peace, Dayline.

  A light appeared close by, too bright, paining her eyes. “Point that somewhere else, Crawford,” she groaned. A headache slammed into her as Joss crouched at her side. His eyes, harsh and unblinking, were narrowed, watchful. She didn’t care.

  Her part was done.

  She’d finished her job. What she’d set out to do.

  End of—

  Barely able to hold on to consciousness, she whispered, “Jones?”

  “Getting ready to call,” he said, his voice softer, a little gentler.

  Vaughnne grimaced. Couldn’t black out, not yet. What if it wasn’t safe?

  Sweeping out with her mind, she felt . . . yes. “He’s coming. Close.”

  With a groan, she sank into the black depths of agony.

  TWENTY-FIVE

  "THAT sure as hell is a lot of federal-type-looking people,” Tucker muttered.

  “Yes.” Dru stood off to the side, arms crossed over her chest, eyeing the busy hive of people in front of them with a worried gaze. Slanting a look at Tucker, she murmured, “You should leave, shouldn’t you?”

  He jerked a shoulder. “I’m fine.”

  “No, you’re not.” He’d always done his damnedest to avoid any sort of government type, and she’d pulled him into this. Unwittingly, yes, but she’d done it just the same. “Go on, Tuck. I can handle this.”

  “If you’re going to go down for any of this, I’m going, too,” he said, sighing.

  Dru sighed. “I won’t go down for anything, darling, I promise.” She skimmed the crowd with a studied eye. There were more than a few dead bodies, and she knew by the blank look in Tucker’s eyes just how those bodies had come to be dead. “I think we’re clear here, although they may try to jerk us around. If you’re not here to jerk, you’ll be fine. Just go lose yourself again.” She leaned over, hugged him. The heat she’d felt from him earlier had dissipated, leaving his skin oddly cool. Chilled. “I know how to find you if I need you, mate.”

  “You do at that.” He bent down, brushed his mouth against hers. “If you’re certain . . .”

  “Yes.” Flash, flash, flash . . . fear, guilt. All wrapped up in leaving. Running, the way he saw it.

  But Tucker had spent a good, long time in hiding. He wasn’t going to come out easily. She knew that.

  “You best go. They won’t stay busy for long,” she murmured as he drew back.

  “Yeah.” He glanced at her, and then back behind him.

  A few people glanced their way. He gave her a wild, reckless grin. “I’ll bust my way clear if I need to.”

  She smiled a little sadly.

  “Have at it. And if you feel the need for another one of those distractions . . . be my guest.”

  No sooner had he slipped away than those FBI-looking types decided to amble in her direction. Slowly at first. Then faster. She wasn’t too terribly surprised when the maroon SUV still si
tting at the entrance to the gate started to smoke. The fire started a few seconds later.

  She continued to stand there, arms crossed, staring at the ground, while the engine exploded into flames.

  See you around, Tucker.

  Part of her wanted to go with him.

  But she was no longer on this job just to see the slave ring shut down.

  She had to see Whitmore go down, too. Go down in a fiery, burning blaze of glory.

  That was the only reason . . .

  A rush of adrenaline burst through her. Her breath caught in her throat. Jerking her head up, she searched the grounds. The agents had set up field lights all over the place and she could see clearly. Too clearly, considering who was bearing down on her.

  The badge hanging around his neck didn’t do much to set her mind at ease.

  So. He was FBI.

  She remembered the power she’d glimpsed in his mind. Maybe she should have had a little more faith in him, but she’d operated on the information her mind had given her. She didn’t know him.

  She could still remember that lapse she’d had. The dream, how she’d unconsciously reached out to him.

  And his response. So flat, and cold. I don’t want you anymore.

  Asshole. She couldn’t see inside his head, but she knew he could have looked inside hers if he’d tried. He just hadn’t bothered. So much for her being worth it. Tears threatened, but she shoved them back.

  Not the time. Or the place. She’d break once she was out of this mess, in some place nice and private.

  “Where is he?” he demanded, once he was close enough.

  Of course, he didn’t stop. Four feet wasn’t close enough apparently. He kept coming until he was right in her space, just a few inches away, so that the warmth of his body reached out to tease hers.

  “Who?” she asked. With a mean little smile, she rose up onto her toes and pressed her lips to his ear. “If you’re asking about my dearest fiancé, I’m trying to break up with him. But it isn’t going well. However, I can’t tell you where he is.”

  “Not him,” he growled. “And you know it. Where is your sidekick? Tucker whoever?”

  “Tucker . . . my sidekick.” She smiled a little. “Oh, he’d like that. Do I get to wear some sexy little vinyl suit? Can he wear vinyl, too? Black, I think. Or maybe dark gray. He’d look smashing in gray, especially with those eyes. Sleeveless, if we can, because I’m rather fond of his tats.”

  A snarl quivered on his lips. “Dru . . . don’t push me. We need to talk to him. He’s part of the investigation.”

  “No.” She leaned back against the fence, studying her nails. “He’s not. Anything he knows, I know. He was just here to help me if I got into a jam. Now he’s gone and I’ve no idea where you can find him.”

  “Damn it, Dru!”

  With a patience she really didn’t feel, she sighed again. “Yelling at me just isn’t going to help any, you know. Not at all.” She turned away from the fury burning in his eyes, but before she could move, the exhaustion she felt slammed into her and she swayed.

  His hands, big and hard, caught her shoulders.

  Shrugging him away, she tried to pull free. “Let me go.”

  “Not likely.”

  You don’t have a choice, she thought bitterly. She jerked away with a fury that surprised her, but her legs were clumsy, heavy, and she would have gone to the ground if he hadn’t caught her a second time.

  “Stop it,” he growled. “You’re exhausted, about ready to pass out. When was the last time you ate a damn thing? When was the last time you slept?”

  She curled her lip, fighting the urge to say something really, really ugly. Fighting the urge to hit him, but if she did, that hard skull of his might break her hand. Bastard. Fucking bastard. “It hardly concerns you, does it? My personal business? Don’t you have a job to see to, Agent Crawford?” she asked, keeping her voice as flat as she could.

  A muscle jerked in his jaw. “Now that’s where you’re wrong. It concerns me in all kinds of ways.” He raked her with a critical eye and then turned his head. “Kingsley!”

  Somebody separated himself from the mess of people. “Yeah?”

  “Get her a chair. And sit on her. If she tries to leave, cuff her.”

  Dru narrowed her eyes. “And exactly what right do you have?”

  Although she knew they had all sorts of reasons to detain her. Jerking his chain wasn’t going to do much good. Except . . . well, it made her feel better.

  “I could start listing them, but we’d be here all morning, noon, and night,” Joss drawled. “And I don’t know about you, but I want to wrap it up here so we can focus on your fiancé.”

  A look of disgust crossed his face as he said it. One that cut her to the bone.

  She turned away, wrapping her arms around her middle. She’d done what she had to do. There was information she could present them with, and would. Once she was able to get to it . . . of her own free will.

  If that made her seem less in their eyes, that was their problem.

  * * *

  IT was hours later when Taylor caught up with Joss.

  “Go back to the hotel.”

  “Still got too much to do here,” he said, shaking his head. In all honesty, part of him didn’t want to leave because he wasn’t sure what to do about Dru. Part of him was also hoping for two things . . . her cowardly little friend Tucker would come back. Or maybe Whitmore would appear.

  Neither was going to happen, though. And he had to have some kind of reason to keep up with Dru. He was terrified she’d disappear, like dust in the wind.

  “Ms. Chapman isn’t going to disappear,” Taylor said. “She’s spent too much time on this.”

  Slanting a look at a man he trusted more than just about anybody else, he studied Taylor’s face. “Won’t she?”

  “Not until she sees this through. She stuck with it too long. She’s . . . you’ve figured out the fact that she’s been working this on her own, right?”

  Rage, frustration, guilt twisted inside him as he looked away. “Yeah. I got that far on my own. Would have been nice if you could have gotten me that information a bit sooner.”

  “We had a lot going on,” Taylor pointed out. “And if you’d . . . shit. Look, I don’t know what the deal is here, but this isn’t done for her. I know people. She’s not done.” Then he grimaced. “Although she’s pretty much done in for now. She needs some rest, and I doubt she wants to go back to the place Whitmore had her at, even if it was safe to do—which it’s not. Take her to the hotel. Have them put her in a room. I’ll cover it.”

  Joss passed a hand over his mouth. Oh, he’d put her in a room all right.

  His room.

  They’d have this out.

  “Ah, I don’t have a car.”

  Taylor tossed his keys. “Take mine. Taige and I’ll be here for a while, and we’ll catch a ride back with somebody from the team when we’re done.”

  Tossing the keys from one hand to the other, he hesitated a moment longer. “Vaughnne?”

  “In the hospital, resting. Exhaustion, mostly. She overdid it this time, but she’ll be fine. Nalini is with her.” Somebody called his name, and he glanced back for a moment before looking at Joss. “Go. Now. Before I make it an order.”

  “I think you just did.”

  Weariness dragged at him as he and Taylor separated, the SAC heading back to the crime scene, Joss moving back to his woman. His woman.

  This was killing him.

  What in the hell was going on?

  He’d just adjusted and reshaped his mind to what he thought was the reality, and now reality had just done a number on him and jump-kicked him right in the face.

  Working it privately. On her own. Damn it, for how long? How could she have gotten so deep in a job like this? Did she have any idea how dangerous Whitmore was?

  Those images flared to life, dancing through his mind.

  So vivid and dark, twisted. Fear. Pain. Shame. They grabbed
him by the throat, and for a moment, he was almost sick from them.

  Up ahead, some thirty feet, she was sitting there, all but ready to fall asleep, and if he knew anything, it was nothing but will keeping her eyes open. Will, determination.

  Rubbing the heel of his hand over his heart, he blew out a breath.

  She knew, all right. All this time, she’d been doing this alone, and she knew how risky it was. But it hadn’t stopped her.

  He wouldn’t let anything stop him, either.

  They’d waited too long. Focusing on her, only her, he made himself move, closing the distance between them as he mentally rehearsed something, anything, to say to her.

  Kingsley, the agent he’d put at her back, gave him a look. “You can go. I’m taking her to a hotel to get some rest.”

  Dru tipped her head back, studying him through her lashes. “And if I’m not interested?” she asked, biting off each word.

  “I don’t much care if you’re interested,” he replied. Okay, that wasn’t smooth, he thought. But she needed to get some rest. Standing there, arms crossed, he waited.

  She didn’t move.

  Bending over her, he whispered, “You’re either going to get your sweet little ass out of that chair, or I’ll just throw you over my shoulder. Trust me, duchess, nobody here will be surprised.”

  He almost wished she’d push him. He felt like if he could just get his hands on her, maybe he could figure out a way to undo what he’d done. Fix what he’d broken. There had to be a way. He’d fucked up, damn it, and he was just starting to realize how badly.

  But after a long, cool look, she heaved out a sigh. A very aggravated, disgusted sigh that made it clear she’d rather go anywhere, be anywhere but with him. “If I must,” she said, rising. The sleek black running tights she wore clung to her legs like a glove, and as she turned around, he wanted to jerk off his shirt, cover her with it to make sure nobody else was looking at her.

  She paused and looked over her shoulder at him. “You are coming, correct? I’m not going to walk to this hotel?”

  Sucking back the instinctive response, he moved to join her. It was a forty-minute drive to the Peabody. He could figure out what to say. He could find the right thing to say.

  Level things out between them.