Lily and Eric were both waiting, greeting him from their respective monitors. "How are you feeling?" Lily asked.
"Like I can't walk," Jess replied, an edge to his voice. "Hell, you used enough iguana and lizard DNA to turn me into a reptile. I thought it would regenerate the cells with or without the drugs you're pumping into me."
"You have to have patience, Jess," Eric said. "We told you, this course of treatment has never been tried on a human. The theory is sound and it worked on a few lab animals but we didn't have time to even perfect that."
"A few lab animals," Jess echoed. "That's great. Just great. If my tongue starts to grow and I suddenly develop a taste for flies, you'll tell the others why, won't you?"
Lily passed a hand over the mound of her stomach. She looked like she had swallowed a basketball. "I know you're upset, Jess. But this will work. We just have to give it a little time. Are you still having trouble with bleeding?"
He shrugged. "Sometimes."
"And you're not overdoing it? You only do your therapy when you have someone with you, right?" Eric said.
Rather than lie Jess scowled at them. "I'm beginning to think neither one of you really knew what you were doing when you talked me into this."
"I told you it was highly experimental," Eric pointed out. "When I said it had never been tried, I meant it had never been tried."
Lily leaned forward. "I'm working on it, Jess. You know I'll keep going until I get it right. Your body hasn't rejected the bionics, and that's the biggest hurdle. We just haven't yet managed to get them hooked into your brain. If worse comes to worst, we can go back to the power pack idea."
"Which gives me a few hours and then I'm back in the chair, still a liability if I'm on a mission."
"So you really want to go back into the field," Eric asked.
"Of course." But he was no longer so certain. He didn't want to leave Saber behind. "Look, there's nothing new you're telling me. I'm going to sign off now and get some other things done."
Lily nodded. "We'll figure this out, Jess."
He lifted a hand at both of them, inexplicably angry with them and with himself. He had agreed to the surgery. Neither had lied to him about the possibility that it wouldn't work, but he had been so certain. Iguanas and lizards regenerated tails, why not find a way to regenerate his damaged nerves so his bionics would be directed by his brain, just as if his legs were all his?
He needed Saber. He needed to hold her. To be with her. To just breathe clean fresh air and forget that he might not walk again after his hopes had been raised. He went looking for Saber because she was the one person who soothed him when he was ready to explode with frustration or anger. She was in the kitchen putting dishes away.
"Is Patsy gone?" Jess asked.
Saber nodded. "A little while ago. I tried to get her to go to the hospital and get checked out, and I really think you should call her and try to persuade her. Sometimes things show up later. She shouldn't take any chances."
"Patsy's stubborn. Maybe if she wakes up tomorrow and hurts like hell, she'll go."
Saber pressed her lips together to keep from insisting. "Are you all right? You look upset. If you're worried about Patsy, I still think you should have a doctor check her out and then hire security--a bodyguard, someone to keep an eye on her."
Jess had already planned to do just that. In fact, he was going to make a few phone calls. He was feeling restless.
He dragged both hands through his hair. "I'm feeling cooped up. Let's get the hell out of here and go on a picnic."
Her eyebrow shot up. "A picnic?"
"Yeah, a picnic. You know, blanket on the ground--"
"Cold ground," she interrupted.
"Blanket on the cold ground," he repeated. "Wicker basket loaded with goodies especially prepared for outdoor dining. You know--picnic."
"I know what a picnic is, Jesse, I just don't understand your sudden urge to go on one, especially now when nature is about to dump a ton of snow on us."
"It's just a bit brisk. You'll love it."
"Yeah right. Me and the penguins." But he was starting to grin and the sparkle in his eyes was irresistible. Darn him. He knew she couldn't resist that teasing look. "Suppose I agree to this ridiculous picnic idea. As you've just pointed out, picnics involve food." She opened the refrigerator and pointed with a smirk. "Hate to burst your bubble, Calhoun, but that looks empty to me."
"Give me some help here, you little whiner. We'll stop at the store. I need some enthusiasm from you."
"All right already," Saber capitulated. "I'm enthused. I can't wait." And she couldn't. She'd never been on a picnic before. It was one of those things normal people did. Normal, just like she'd always wanted. "Where are we going?"
"You'll see. Dress warm and don't forget your gloves," he instructed.
Saber allowed herself to really study his face. It was difficult to read Jess; it always had been. She felt comfortable with him, alive and happy. And there were no headaches, no bleeding from her mouth, nose, or ears. When she was close to him, she could handle all the energy flooding her brain, all the emotions and the bombardment of sound assaulting her. She had never questioned that, but she should have. Only a GhostWalker who was an anchor could draw the energy away from her, and Jess Calhoun had to be an anchor. Was that why she felt so close to him? Because he was like her?
Had she really deceived herself all these months? He had to be very well trained to have concealed his part in the program from her. Ordinarily she could spot a GhostWalker a mile away, but because Jess was in a wheelchair, it hadn't even occurred to her that he could possibly be in that program.
"What is it?" he asked again, his voice soft.
It was tempting to just blurt out her fears, her questions. But she knew better. Jess had been a SEAL, and once a GhostWalker there was no going back. He still worked for the military. He was involved in some kind of top secret investigation. She was well aware of the secret visits, the men she never saw come and go. She should have suspected, but the wheelchair had thrown her into a false sense of security.
"Saber?" he prompted.
"Nothing." She forced a smile. She was taking this one day with him, for herself, because it was probably the only day she would ever have with the man she loved.
Subject Calhoun's sister arrived today. I managed to drop the listening device in her pocket earlier after I heard she was going to visit her brother. He must have jamming equipment in his house, because it did no good. I couldn't pick up on anything and it abruptly stopped working. The good news is, she is back in town, and if needed we can use her to control Calhoun. He has shown us that he is willing to sacrifice his life for anyone he loves. It is his greatest weakness and one we can capitalize on. Give me the go-ahead and I can take the sister.
He would love to get his hands on haughty Patsy, looking down her nose at him, brushing him aside as if he were nobody. He could teach her manners and enjoy every moment of it. He was frustrated that the listening device hadn't worked after he had gone to all the trouble of planting it, especially since it had taken so long to get the exact frequency worked out. Weeks of listening to Jess's voice for hours on end, over and over, recording the exact wavelength. Whitney had all these little experiments he wanted done. And the other--he was just as demanding. It was exciting to be a double agent, play both sides and collect fat paychecks, but if he didn't get the results both wanted soon, they would send someone else to do the job, and that was unacceptable. He had plans for the Night Siren. Big plans.
CHAPTER 6
Jess had been all over the world and he had chosen Sheridan, Wyoming, as his home, not only for its warm, friendly people, but because of its rich history and the year-round activities. It was a beautiful city close to the Big Horn Mountains. It was home to him, and after he had been put in a wheelchair he had planned to stay--until Lily and Eric had talked to him about the bionics program.
He still had nightmares about how he'd gotten into the wheelchair
in the first place. He often woke up drenched in sweat, his heart pounding, pain twisting his gut into knots and his legs jumping with the memory of first the bullets slamming into his bones, and then the torture that followed. It had seemed endless, a sea of pain, the pattern of blood splattering the walls, memories of the brutal men slamming objects into the mess that had been his legs. He remembered it so vividly. Time hadn't dulled any of it. Nothing had helped until he opened his door and let Saber Wynter into his life. The nightmares hadn't stopped, but since Saber's arrival, they had eased.
Saber remained silent as they drove through the streets, but as always, he felt peace steal into him when he was with her. His response was strange, since Saber wasn't exactly a restful person. She had too much energy and too many causes, but every time he was with her, he felt happy. On their evening walks, she often jogged beside him as he wheeled his chair along Main Street, past the scenic buildings.
She was enhanced. Whether he admitted it to himself or not--or even whether she did--she was a GhostWalker just like him. She was good--too good--and that meant she'd been trained, or she would have slipped up long before now.
Being a GhostWalker explained her voice, so popular on the airwaves that his little radio station was becoming a huge hit. It explained her need for solitude. She wasn't an anchor and she couldn't be around other people without pain. It explained everything but why she was in his home. Because no matter how much in love with her crazy ways he was, he couldn't ignore the fact that she had to be a plant. That was the only explanation he could think of to explain why her fingerprints hadn't kicked a red flag back at him.
He drove the van west on Loucks Street, but was so busy watching Saber he nearly missed the turn onto Badger. Kendrick Park was dead ahead. This time of year, with the air cooling rapidly but the snow not yet here, few people used the park. Big Goose Creek bordered the park, with its wealth of evergreens and tall, elegant cottonwoods.
"Perfect picnic area. All the tourists say so," he commented, looking carefully, cautiously around. Suddenly his senses were prickling--nothing too big, but a definite hit. His hand slid over his pack to feel the weight of his gun.
Saber laughed. "This park is packed in the summer. I thought for sure you were taking me to Fort Phil Kearny. You've been promising for three months."
"True, I also said we'd go to..."
"Buffalo Bill Museum." She laughed. "There's so much to do. We couldn't miss the rodeo, that would have been a sacrilege." And she wanted to do it all before she left--she wanted to do it all with Jess, because nothing would ever feel the same again.
"Would you rather go to the Fort? We could go exploring." He paused in the act of gathering up their supplies. He had room here if an enemy attacked, both room and cover. He'd rather stay.
"No, this is perfect. I'd like a little peace and quiet, maybe take a nap since I didn't get much sleep last night." She shivered a little in the cool air. "You did bring blankets I hope."
"I remembered everything with no help from you."
She flashed a sassy grin at him. She hadn't helped him pack for the picnic because she'd been trying to come to terms with the fact that Jess was more than a Navy SEAL; he was part of a GhostWalker team. It explained everything, especially why she could so easily be in his company. She had never been able to tolerate being around people for very long until she was with Jess. He was definitely an anchor and he drew energy away from her. She should have known. Well, on some level she had known; she just hadn't wanted to bring it out in the open and examine it.
They made their way to a secluded area near the stream, where water bubbled over rocks and where they had a good view of anyone approaching them. After spreading the ground sheet out at the bottom of a thick tree trunk, Jess slid from his chair and sat with his back propped against the tree, blankets--and gun--within easy reach.
Saber sat a foot away, facing him, the wind playing with her hair. "I could stay here forever," she said softly. And she wanted to stay with him.
"That could be arranged," he agreed.
Saber pushed silken strands from her face. "Sometimes I can't tell if you're serious or joking."
"I told you, honey, I take you very seriously."
His black gaze bored into her, causing her womb to clench. She looked away. "Can you imagine all this a hundred years ago? The battles fought in this country? The famous Indians and frontiersmen who walked this ground?"
"Red Cloud, Chief Dull Knife, Little Wolf," he recited.
"General Cooke, Captain Fetterman, Jim Bridger," Saber listed, not to be outdone. She knew her history. She could read a page and recite it verbatim.
Jess sighed. She was probably going to relate every historical event that had ever taken place in Sheridan County including the building of the Sheridan Inn and the stories of its resident ghost. He liked history but not right now. Saber was running from him just as surely as if her feet were burning up the pavement.
"Are we going to talk about the Fetterman Battle or about us?" he asked, his voice gentle.
"The Fetterman Battle." Saber sent him a quick, almost desperate smile.
"How did I know you'd say that?"
Saber shrugged. "We could talk about cooking or restaurants."
"I could shake you."
"Restrain yourself."
"Family, baby," he suggested. "Let's talk about family. Are your parents alive? You've never mentioned them."
Saber scratched at the ground sheet, avoiding his probing gaze. "I grew up in an orphanage," she said abruptly. "There's not much to say, is there?" It was almost a challenge, as if she were daring him to push the issue.
She was going to run if he pushed; he could see the wariness in her eyes. Jess allowed the subject to pass, leaning with deceptive laziness against the tree, staring up at the clouds in the sky and then allowing his gaze to search every square inch around him that he could see. The ground. Brush. Even the trees.
Saber yawned, quickly covering it with her hand. "It was a good idea to come here, dragon king. It's peaceful."
Jess's hand snaked out and tugged at Saber, unbalancing her. With a little squeak, she fell over against him, her head pillowed in his lap. His hand came up to caress her silky hair, lingering in the abundance of curls.
"Take a nap, angel face," he coaxed. "I'll watch over you."
She relaxed against him, smiling as he tucked a blanket around the two of them. "You know, Jess, I love your house. If I haven't told you that before, thank you for all the remodeling you did to make it perfect for me to live there. It was thoughtful of you and not at all necessary, but I'm so glad you did."
"I thought it was our house now," he replied mildly, intrigued by the blue highlights the sun was putting in the black of her hair. "It feels like our house."
Her soft mouth curved. "It does, doesn't it? I've been happy these last months, happier than I've ever been. You're a good friend."
His fingertip traced the velvet outline of her lip. "Is that what I am, honey?" Amusement colored the deep timbre of his voice. "A good friend? You're beginning to sound as if you're delivering a eulogy. 'It's been great, Jess, but I'm out of here.'"
Her teeth nipped his finger. "It's not at all like that and you know it."
"So tell me what it's like." He was careful to keep his voice quietly bland.
Her lashes swept down to lay like two thick crescents over her eyes. A jolt of electricity hit him hard in the stomach. For one moment his hand trembled badly as he forced his body under rigid control, then he was caressing her hair and earlobe with gentle fingers.
"I move around a lot, Jesse. You know that. I've been in New York, Florida, and several other states before here, not to mention different cities in each state."
"Why?"
"Why?" she echoed. The tip of her tongue touched her full lower lip.
"Why," he insisted, suppressing the groan threatening to rise in his chest.
There was a long silence, so long he was afraid she might no
t answer. "This is the most time I've ever spent in any one place. I'm getting far too attached to everyone. The people in this town are the nicest I've met anywhere. And if I stay much longer with you..." She trailed off with a sigh.
His hands moved over her face, tracing delicate bone structure as if committing it to memory. "It's already too late, baby," he said.
The long black lashes fluttered, lifted, and beautiful violet-blue eyes touched his burning gaze and then skittered away quickly. Her throat rippled. As she made a slight movement of withdrawal, Jess tightened his hold possessively and waited for the resistance to drain out of her.
"I thought you wanted to talk seriously." He ruffled her hair because he couldn't resist the corkscrew curls springing everywhere over her head.
"That was you."
"Little coward."
She caught his hand in both of hers, held it against her cheek, wild emotions racing chaotically. "I am, I'm sorry." She choked the words out, sudden tears burning far too close. It was going to tear her heart out to leave him.
His hand cupped her cheek, thumb sliding firmly along her jaw. He bent his dark head slowly to hers, blotting out the sky, the light, until finally there was only Jess.
His mouth hovered inches from hers. "I won't let you leave." He said the words so quietly she barely caught them.
Her breath caught in her throat, mind and body at war. Everything in her yearned for this, craved him, while the sane part of her shrieked for self-preservation, screamed for her to jump up, save herself. His hand spanned her throat, felt the pulse fluttering wildly against his palm like the wings of a captured bird. He murmured something in an aching voice, his breath warm against her skin.
His lips slanted over hers, feather light, velvet soft, yet firm. At the first touch of his mouth her heart slammed in alarm against her breast, and her blood took fire. His teeth nipped at her lower lip. It was her startled gasp that gave him access to the warm, silky, moist interior of her mouth.
Everything changed. Everything.
His arms tightened around her, dragging her closer, the hand around her throat forcing her head to remain still, giving him exactly what he wanted. Pure black magic. He was everything male, sweeping her token resistance away, drinking her sweetness, exploring every inch of her mouth.
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