Forged in Ash (A Red-Hot SEALs Novel)

by Trish McCallan

  “This man, the one who shot you, what does he look like?” Wolf’s voice had chilled, the velvet baritone roughening.

  She took a deep breath, let it out slowly. “He was tall, thin. Brown eyes. No hair.”

  The warmth in his eyes centered her. Before she realized it, she began to talk.

  “Lizzy let them in,” she whispered, her mind turning inward, pulling up that horrific day. “She wasn’t supposed to let strangers in. She knew that”—her voice thickened—“but she was only six, still a baby. I was in the kitchen. They pushed her into the kitchen with a gun to her head.” Jillian started to shake, her throat so tight she could hardly get the words out. “She kept…she kept saying ‘I’m sorry, Mommy. I’m sorry.’” Jillian choked on the lump in her throat, and then forced the rest of the memory out. “The other kids were in the family room, watching television. They wanted me to call them into the kitchen. They said they’d kill Lizzy if I didn’t.”

  She wasn’t aware she was crying until moisture hit her hand.

  For a moment she stared down, dumbfounded. She hadn’t cried while awake since coming to in the sinking van. Her tears had been reserved for the night. For the dreams.

  “They made you call the rest of your kids into the kitchen,” Wolf repeated, a dark, dangerous edge to his voice.

  Her nod was sluggish. “They said—they said we’d be okay as long as we did what we were told. But they’d kill someone each time I disobeyed.” Her voice rose until it pierced the trees, shrill with anguish. “What could I do? They would have killed my Lizzy if I didn’t call the others. But by calling them, I killed them.”

  “No.” His voice broke into her cry, inflexible in its certainty. Instantly, her voice fell. “Calling your children did not kill them. They would have found them. They would have rounded them up. You couldn’t have stopped that. This was not your fault.”

  Absolutely still, she sat there and let his assurance sink in. Let it spread out. Let it slow her heartbeat and unfreeze her lungs.

  Calmer, she continued. “They taped our hands and mouths and took us to the garage. To my van. They pulled the seats out, made us lie down and then taped our feet. One drove. One sat in the passenger seat. One in the back with us. After a while, they met up with two SUVs and they split us up.”

  Wolf stroked her back again and pulled her closer. His big body burned against hers. But not even his heat could warm the icy hemorrhage in her mind. “What did they do with your van?”

  She frowned. “They must have taken it back to the house and put the seats back in.”

  He shook his head, for the first time looking surprised. “Why?”

  “Because after they shot us, they cinched us into the seats and drove the van off the bluff above Lake Katcheca.”

  He went very still beside her. His hand frozen on her back. “Your children are—”

  “At the bottom of the lake,” she said thickly, only this time the tears didn’t fall. Her eyes burned. Her heart burned even worse. But the agony transcended tears. “I woke up when it hit the water.”

  “They shot you.” He gently stroked the scar along the side of her head. When her hair had been long, the scar had been covered by the length of the strands above. Cutting it had exposed the thick, calloused healing tissue.

  “Twice. They thought I was dead. I woke up when the van hit the water. The moon roof was open. I barely made it out.”

  She barely made it to shore too. Or up the rocky, endless bank.

  She didn’t remember much of the ordeal. The motorist who’d almost hit her as she stumbled onto the pavement said she was barely conscious. Raving and incoherent.

  “I didn’t try to get them out.” The words erupted from her in all their agonizing frenzy. “I didn’t even try. I should have tried. I shouldn’t have just left them there. What if they were still alive? What if I was wrong? What if they weren’t dead before it went down?” Her voice climbed higher and higher, the agony a constant, unforgiving scream inside her mind. “I killed them. I killed them by leaving. How could I have just left them there?”

  “Jillian.” He caught the hands that were clawing at her face and forced them to her sides. “Jillian, heneeceine3 betee.”

  “I’m not a lion,” she shrieked. “I left them there. I left my babies to die so I could save myself.”

  “No.” He shook her. “You left to survive. You left to give them the revenge they deserved. They were already gone. You could not have saved them.”

  “How can I be sure?” Her voice rose again.

  “Because you knew. In your heart you knew they were gone. You felt it. They were already gone.” His voice was so calm, so full of certainty. “It’s a mother’s betee, bixoo3etiit, to know when their babies have left them.”

  She swallowed hard. “What does betee mean?”

  “Heart. Your mother’s heart knew they were gone.”

  Sitting perfectly still, she thought back to that moment when she’d seen them in the backseat. To the instant, incandescent anguish. Her beautiful babies. Dead. All five dead. He was right. She’d known. The moment she’d remembered, she’d known.

  But somehow she’d lost that certainty through the following months.

  “We’ll bring them home to you,” Wolf whispered, wrapping an arm around her shoulder and drawing her against his side. “After we find the ones who took them from you, after you have avenged them. We will find your children and bring them home. As they deserve. As you deserve.”

  Sniffing thickly she frowned. “How will I find the men who did this? You said it’s not Simcosky and his friends?”

  The question sounded more like an accusation and Wolf smiled slightly. But the smile quickly faded. Suddenly he bent and unstrapped the knife sheath attached to his calf. He slid the blade into the holster and dropped it into her lap.

  Startled, she stared down at it. “Uh, what—”

  “You need a weapon worthy of a lioness, netee.” Shifting to face her, he took her hand and placed it on his chest, just below and slightly to the left of his sternum. “This is where you strike. When the time comes, strike hard, strike fast. Let no one stop you.”

  Cosky knew exactly where Kait was headed with this conversation.

  He crossed his arms over his tight chest. No way in hell was he letting her near his eye.

  She edged closer, so close he could smell that clean, lemony scent that had taken residence in his dreams as surely as she’d taken residence in his heart. He’d denied it to Zane, the day before. But it was a lot harder to deny it to himself. Wolf had cracked that self-delusion wide open. Pain and rage had consumed him at the thought of the big bastard sharing her bed, but that had been nothing compared to the agony of hearing Kait admit that she loved him.

  A cold, numb chasm had ripped open inside him. The emptiness, the loss, had been unlike anything he’d experienced before. He’d been bleeding to death from within. Where he couldn’t see it, only feel it—feel himself sliding down into that endless, empty chasm. Not even his father’s death had hollowed him out so completely.

  He didn’t want to feel like that ever again.

  He still hated the thought of her spending a lifetime worrying about him, but she’d been right that life was messy. She’d been right that worry and love went hand in hand. Christ, he’d been scared near to death because of her, for her, more than once during these past three days.

  Besides, Kait had been raised by and around some of the most courageous and committed men in the world. Had he really thought she wouldn’t be drawn to such men herself? Chances were she’d choose the same kind of man as her father and brothers for a lifetime commitment.

  And if she was going to love a special operator, it was damn well going to be him.

  Yeah, he may have been a complete and utter ass there in the beginning. But Kait wasn’t the type to hold a grudge. She wasn’t the type to refuse second chances. And from the way her body went into overdrive when they got together, just like his did, she
still wanted him.

  He could work with that.

  He hadn’t lost her. Not yet.

  And he sure as hell wasn’t going to lose her to a damn healing gone wrong.

  “Give it up, Kait. We aren’t experimenting on my eye.” Cosky leaned against the bench and crossed his arms, trying to ignore the entreaty on Kait’s face.

  “Cosky—”

  “No, damn it.” His chest tightened. “Did you forget that channeling that much energy last time damn near killed you?”

  “It didn’t almost kill me. It just tapped me out.” She scooted closer and touched his hand. “And we didn’t know the trigger then. We know how it works now, we can control the intensity.”

  He snorted, unmoved. “We don’t know a damn thing about how this works. For all we know, channeling so much energy again, so soon after your last crash and burn, could cause irreparable damage.” He paused, leveled a stern look on her upturned face. It didn’t help that she was so damn beautiful…and earnest. “You could end up brain damaged. Hell, your temperature spiked so high last time it about fried you.”

  It was her turn to snort. “That won’t happen this time. We can break the connection and dump the energy just by lifting your hands.”

  Frustration tightened Cosky’s throat. “We don’t know that for sure.”

  “But we do.” Her voice rose. “That’s what happened every time we’ve tested it.”

  “You weren’t doing a healing,” Cosky snapped back, scowling. “We were holding hands. There’s no way of knowing if the current will break if I lift my hands when you’re in the middle of an actual healing.”

  “It did in the parking lot,” Kait insisted.

  Cosky wasn’t so sure. “Kait—”

  “Look, that’s why we start small, right?” Kait suddenly changed tactics. “We’ll try it for say two seconds, then quit.”

  Swearing, Cosky rolled his shoulders. “Two seconds?”

  “Two. I promise.” The smile she beamed at him was glorious and impossible to refuse.

  Damn it.

  “Fine. Two seconds,” he said with a scowl.

  She moved fast, like she was afraid he’d change his mind. Leaning over him, she settled her hands over his eye. He grimaced at the pressure. The damn thing still hurt like hell.

  “Now cover my hands with your palms,” she said.

  “You’re not feeling anything?”

  “Not yet,” she said.

  From the hard buds of her nipples pressing into his chest, he knew that was a lie. She was definitely feeling something, the same something that was hardening his cock and tightening his balls. He could think of a dozen things he wanted to do with his hands, and helping her hold his eye wasn’t one of them.

  “Cosky,” she said, pure entreaty in her voice.

  Ah hell.

  Reaching up, he settled both palms over her hands and started counting.

  One. Two. Three. He lifted his hands.

  “Cosky!” Pure irritation sharpened her voice. “It hadn’t even started burning yet.”

  Which was the whole point. “You asked for two seconds. I gave you three.”

  “How generous of you,” she said sarcastically, without dropping her hands. “And you know I meant two seconds after it starts to burn. Let’s try again. You can see I’m fine. And it’s clear you can flip the switch.”

  She had a point. Not to mention the brush of her breasts against his chest was too damn distracting.

  “Fine.” He reached up again, settled his hands over hers. “Two seconds.”

  “Three,” she said quickly, which earned a snort.

  The burning started at the five-second mark. He counted off three seconds and released his grip.

  “Kait,” he said sharply when her arms didn’t fall. He could feel the heat emanating from her hands; it warmed the entire left side of his face.

  “I’m okay,” she said slowly. “The burning stopped as soon as you lifted your hands. But there’s residual warmth radiating out, so I think it’s still healing.”

  “The deal was you’d drop your hands as soon as I let go.” Cosky reached for her wrists and pulled her hands away from his face.

  She didn’t fight him. “Actually, the deal was you’d let go after three seconds. Nothing was said about when I had to let go.” Suddenly she hissed, and jerked back. “Oh…my…God…Cosky.”

  Freezing, he scanned her from head to foot. She looked shocked, flushed, but not in distress. “What’s wrong?”

  “Your eye.” Disbelief rang in her voice.

  Frowning, he lifted a hand to his left eye. It felt noticeably less swollen and didn’t hurt like it had before.

  “How much better is it?” It was hard to judge from touching.

  “A lot.” There was awe in her voice.

  He started to get up, so he could find a mirror. But she grabbed his arm.

  “I want to try it again.” There was more than entreaty in her voice. There was demand. Urgency.

  He blew out a tight breath. “Kait—”

  “I’m fine. I’m not drained in the slightest. You broke the current the instant you lifted your hands. This is amazing, Cosky. Think of the implications! This works. We can control it. And if your eye looks this much better after three seconds, think what it could look like after five. Maybe you’ll be able to see out of it again.”

  He pulled back until he could get a good look at her face. She looked slightly flushed, but not hot. There was no perspiration like there had been before. He raised a hand to her forehead and felt for a fever.

  She felt slightly warm, but not hot.

  Maybe she was right. Maybe they could control this. And damn, it would be nice to see out of both eyes again.

  “Okay, five seconds this time.”

  “Seven.”

  “Five, or none,” he said sternly, steeling himself against her flirty smile.

  She rolled her eyes at him. “Fine. Five.”

  As she leaned into him again and settled her palms over his eye, there was a noticeable difference. The pressure didn’t cause any pain. At least to his eye.

  There was plenty of pressure in other areas, though. To reach his eye she had to lean against him. Every breath they took rubbed her breasts against his chest and hardened his cock. By the time they completed this healing; he’d be poking her in the belly with his dick.

  Which wasn’t where he wanted to be poking her.

  “Anytime now, Cos,” she said, the dryness in her voice a clear indication she’d picked up on his body’s enthusiastic appreciation of her nearness.

  With a grimace, he reached for her hands. He gave it six seconds this time, a compromise to her seven, and broke contact when the temperature level jumped from warm to too damn hot. His burning flesh immediately cooled.

  “Kait?” he asked sharply, because the hands pressing against his eyes were still hotter than hell.

  “I’m fine.”

  He relaxed at the sound of her voice. There was no tension in her tone. No distress in the body pressed against his. He started to slide his arms around her waist, only to stop. Would simply holding her open a channel again?

  Which started a disturbing train of thought.

  They’d obviously established some kind of energy channel that was activated by touching. But what would happen if they wanted to touch without opening the channel? Could he stroke her bare skin now without that insane heat rising? Could he hold her, stroke her, without worrying about the energy getting out of control? What would happen if he made love to her? Would the act of lovemaking open a channel and fry her?

  It hadn’t before. But they’d made love before that incident in the parking lot.

  What if the parameters had changed since then?

  Obviously it was time for more testing.

  He slid his hands beneath her shirt and skimmed them up her bare back. She froze, her breath catching.

  “Ah, Marcus, what are you doing?” Her voice quivered.

&
nbsp; He dragged her closer and turned his head until his breath was moistening the shell of her ear. “I’m conducting an experiment of my own.” He smiled at the shiver that raked her. “Is it getting hot?”

  “Yes.” Her voice shook.

  But the hands against his face weren’t getting any hotter.

  He laughed softly and caught her earlobe in his teeth. “In your hands?”

  “Oh.” She coughed, her body going languid atop him. “Not there.”

  “Good to know.” He skimmed his fingers down her back.

  She quivered as he nibbled a path down the side of her neck, and he smiled in satisfaction. Until her face turned into his throat and her mouth found the patch of skin just below his ear. She nipped him, and then soothed the slight sting with a long, slow sweep of her tongue.

  It was his turn to quiver, a splinter of pure lust ricocheting through him. His body went hard, urgency climbing. Suddenly he craved the taste of her, the press of her body against his. Tightening his arms, he drew her hard against him, until he could feel the steady beat of her heart against his chest. Lifting his hand, he caught her chin, nudging her face toward his.

  He caught a glimpse of her rosy face and dreamy eyes as he leaned in to brush her mouth with his. It was a gentle caress, fleeting, which wasn’t enough for either of them. Her lips opened, and her tongue snuck out and stroked the crease between his lips. He caught it with his teeth and drew it into his mouth, suckling it.

  God knows where that deep, carnal kiss would have taken them. He was so damn hungry for her he’d forgotten where they were, or that there were other people in the house.

  And then a voice cleared loudly above them.

  Kait jumped, dropped her hands to his chest, and tried to scramble away.

  Scowling, Cosky wrapped his arms around her, holding her in place. It was about time Wolf got used to seeing Kait in his arms. She was going to spend most of her free time there, if he had any say in it.

  Leaning his head against the bench, he glared up.

  Wolf’s cold, hard face came into focus. Shock suddenly rounded the black eyes. They quickly narrowed and studied Cosky’s face intently. That’s when Cosky realized he could see the big bastard clear as day.