by Virna DePaul
“Kev here.”
“What the fuck happened?”
“Something spooked the dogs. Bad. I let them out and let them hunt.”
“And?”
“Nothing. You figure out what spooked them?”
“I have a pretty good guess.” He told him about seeing Murphy, but left out Barrett’s involvement since he still didn’t know why she’d tracked him down.
“So why’d you leave?”
Nick looked at Barrett. Her breathing was steady, too soft for him to hear. Her eyes stayed closed. “I had my reasons,” he said, knowing that would be enough for Kev. “I’ll be back as soon as I can. Call in. Get some men in to help you and scour that mountain. Keep me posted on my cell.”
“Roger that.”
They disconnected and Nick stared ahead, seeing the darkened landscape below through his faint, distorted reflection in the helicopter’s windshield.
He was glad Barrett had conked out. Gave him a chance to think, although he usually saved his analytical skills for machinery. The ratio of effort to results was a hell of a lot more favorable. But even so.
Seeing her again was a huge rush. He’d forgotten how stunning she was and how intensely her nearness could arouse him. The vulnerability in her eyes when she finally opened them and recognized him was overwhelming.
Nick had kept his distance after he’d settled her in his bed, wondering what to do. He would have flown her out if she hadn’t regained consciousness. Same deal in the end.
If he hadn’t had the helicopter, he would have carried her back down the mountain to civilization, miles past the end of the road where she’d parked. Safe to assume his jeep had been blasted to smithereens, too. He hadn’t bothered to check, not with a fueled-up heli on the pad.
When it came to Barrett, he’d forgotten the strength of the protective instincts she triggered in him. It didn’t matter how well she could take care of herself. He still wanted to do it for her.
It was something they’d fought about, his constant need to protect her. His comments that she belonged in a different world. A safer one. He’d been pretty good at getting her to open up to him, and he’d get even greater glimpses of the soft woman she hid beneath her tough exterior. All it took was a little tenderness, like the song said. She was a sucker for it.
God knew she needed it. Doing what she did in Eastern Europe—getting around corrupt officials who lived on bribes, dedicating herself to saving refugee women and girls from the feral creeps who tried to prey on them—took a toll on her. Barrett never admitted to it. But Nick had understood.
Barrett stirred in her sleep and muttered something he couldn’t hear. Nick’s mouth tightened. Maybe she was reading his mind. Oh, he knew that was impossible given they were both human, but with the connection they’d once had and what they’d accomplished under the radar and without official sanction—well, he’d always fancied them sharing that deeper connection.
One case had almost gotten them both killed: those sisters, eight and ten, whom he’d spirited out of the foulest brothel the human mind could imagine, with Barrett covering him from an armored jeep hidden in a slum alley, automatic rifle at the ready. There hadn’t been room for her to fly out with the little girls and their mother. But she’d been waiting on the tarmac when he’d come back alone.
They had been in radio contact on his return hop over the Adriatic. He’d teased her, asking what she would do for him after he’d risked so much, what she would say.
He’d climbed out of the beat-up, borrowed jet and saw Barrett running toward him. She had kept it short. Exactly three words, in fact.
Are they safe?
Like a fool, he’d been expecting something more along the lines of you’re my hero or even I love you. But she didn’t think that way.
Barrett on a mission was a force to be reckoned with. Just how she was. Same principle applied in the sack, which was a plus. Love didn’t get mentioned when they were going at it hot and heavy. Or any other time, either. If it had ever been on her mind, she kept it hidden.
Whatever. The girls and their mother had been saved. Shortly after, there had been that final argument. He’d gotten his wish. He’d made sure of it after she’d gone off on her own on another dangerous mission, this one so dangerous he’d refused to help her with it. When he’d found out she’d done it anyway, enough had been enough. He’d blown the whistle on her, something he’d never told her. She’d been forced back to the States. Only he hadn’t counted on the fact that when she left her post behind, she’d be leaving him, as well. For good.
Fuck it. The past was past. Nobody got do-overs.
Not Barrett, him, or their brothers.
Nick checked the instrument panel before he looked at her again. She’d curled up some, tucking her long legs under her, her arms crossed over her breasts. Kinda reminded him of how she slept in his bed in his private quarters. Never quite letting go.
She hadn’t changed much. Maybe more beautiful, if that was possible. And tougher in some indefinable way.
He’d been scared shitless when Murphy had gotten the jump on her, even though one look at her out cold in his bed told him that she was still super fit. Unlike a lot of ex-army, she hadn’t slacked off on rigorous physical conditioning. Whatever it was she did for the FBI, she obviously had to be in top shape to do it.
What was that? And why had she climbed his mountain?
Nick made a slow midair turn to look back at it, half expecting to see his lair on fire. He couldn’t see it at all. The mountain was a black shape against a dark night, barely visible.
He got the helicopter back on course.
“Barrett.”
At the softly spoken word, Barrett, who’d only been half dozing, opened her eyes and straightened in her seat too fast. Her head and throat still hurt, causing her to wince. Nick flashed her an intense, unsmiling look before returning his gaze to what was in front of them. Tall towers spiked into the night sky, dotted with lights that outshone the stars.
Nick nodded toward them. “There’s Atlanta.”
Barrett had never seen the city from this altitude. The helicopter was flying low, hundreds of feet beneath the few airplanes she’d seen on the way. What was the term? Under the radar. The words applied to Nick Maltese in more ways than one.
“Are you landing at Hartsfield?” She supposed the busy commercial airport allowed some private craft to land on distant runways.
Nick shook his head. “No. Changed my mind. Too chaotic, too many small planes coming in. I’m thinking New City. Over there. Toward the west.”
He altered course, muttering a reply to the air-traffic controller’s radioed request for information. The staticy response faded out. Barrett looked ahead to the sprawling small city. Lit-up highways rolled toward it through empty-looking land.
“Kind of amazing when you think that was rural a few years ago,” he muttered.
Like Atlanta, it was composed of glass block buildings, but none were as tall as the ones in Georgia’s capital. Some were more concrete than glass, with a dusty, unfinished look made worse by the sickly orange glow of futuristic street lamps.
Nick flew even lower, skirting the New City limits, heading for an airfield that seemed relatively quiet. He landed the helicopter and turned off the rotors, waiting for the thumping beat to die down.
“They have some new hotels. We’ll get a suite,” he said without looking at her. “Two bedrooms, but I don’t want you too far … For your safety.”
He sounded sincere and unswayable. Not that Barrett was going to argue with him. A suite would do just fine. Plus, since she’d taken her ID and smartphone with her but had left the rest in her car, he was going to have to foot the bill, though that had never been a problem for Nick. He was old school and had refused to let her pay for anything, even when she’d been the one to do the inviting. She would have to stop at the gift shop if there was one, buy a few things for the night. And—
“Hey, you need to call a
bout the rental car,” he reminded her in a matter-of-fact voice.
She smiled at the way he’d echoed her thoughts. In many ways, they’d always operated on a similar wavelength. In others … “What should I say? Vampires playing with matches?”
Nick snorted. “Just say it blew up. They’ll figure it was meth heads trying to steal it for a portable lab. Happens all over the country.”
“Here? Whatever happened to gracious southern living?”
“Somewhat endangered. But not dead.”
Barrett belatedly remembered that his family had lived in North Carolina for generations. Once Nick had joined the army, he’d never looked back.
“You ready?” he asked her. “How are you feeling?”
“Not too bad.” Only like hell warmed over, she thought, just as he said, “Only like shit, right?”
She stared at him, then shook her head and laughed. His expression relaxed until he, too, was smiling.
“I could never pull one over on you, could I, Nick?”
His smile disappeared and he lifted a hand as if to touch her face. He dropped it before making contact and turned back to the windshield. “I don’t know, Barrett. You tried so many times, I confess I lost count.” What could she say? He was right. She’d never dropped her defenses with him. Not completely. Not even in bed. The fact that he’d let her go so easily both justified that fact and probably explained it, as well.
“We should be safe here. How about I buy you dinner and a drink before we start the heavy talk?”
They were going to be discussing vampires and sex rings and failed promises while carefully avoiding the fact they’d seen each other naked. Saying they were going to have some heavy conversation was putting it mildly. That realization prompted her to say, “You’re on.”
He grinned, almost as if she’d agreed to go on a date with him. It would be the weirdest damn date she’d ever been on. But then she and Nick had never actually dated. They’d been too hungry for each other. All he had to do was slam the door behind him and they got naked and went wild. They ended by falling asleep in each other’s arms, exhausted and spent, until they had to get up and pretend it had never happened.
About twenty minutes later, Nick conferred with the front desk clerk at an anonymous, brand-new luxury hotel while Barrett waited.
“The gift shop’s still open,” he said, tactfully not looking at her somewhat shredded khakis and sneakers. “Go crazy.”
Barrett took the credit card he handed her. “I’ll pay you back.”
Nick shrugged, hoisting the large duffel he kept stashed in the helicopter. He’d told her that it held several outfits suitable for different events. Everything but a tux, in fact.
She came out of the shop with a bulging bag holding a black maxi skirt and a gauze top in white, plus some costume jewelry that wasn’t too gaudy, makeup, brush and toothbrush, and toiletries. And what the hell. A really nice bikini and black wedge flip-flops. The clerk had told them that the pool was on a high terrace adjoining their floor. She might as well take full advantage of it.
She showered and changed, then met Nick in the lobby. He looked every inch the handsome guy waiting for his gal. She resented the approving glances sent his way from a few women who sauntered by. In the improvised outfit that clearly conveyed gift-shop desperation, Barrett herself was more or less invisible.
The restaurant featured secluded tables for diners who preferred privacy. Their orders came quickly, but Barrett only picked at hers until the silent waiter removed their plates and left their wineglasses.
Nick was patient, but the knowledge that his patience wouldn’t last long made her jittery. Despite the fantasy she’d had of spending time with him, and maybe even swimming before they talked, she’d always been a rip-the-bandage-off type of person.
Barrett took a fortifying sip of her wine. Second glass. Maybe she shouldn’t have. She felt tears prickle her eyes.
“You came to me,” he said quietly. “Trust me enough to tell me why.”
“All right. Here goes.” Barrett summoned up her nerve. “I made a mistake. A big one.”
“That’s not like you.”
At the clear sarcasm in his voice, Barrett glared at him.
“Sorry. Go on.”
“I had a friend,” she began. “She came from a rich family.”
“Like yours?”
“Not rich enough for my snooty folks,” Barrett said dryly. “But we used to play together. Sarah got pregnant in high school. Mr. Wonderful ditched her and their baby six months after the birth. No forwarding address. Private detectives couldn’t find him. So there she was, a single teenage mother with a baby daughter.”
“Doesn’t sound like she had to worry about a roof over her head or paying the bills.”
“No. But there were other things. She’d developed lymphoma soon after giving birth, but it went away with chemo. The baby meant everything to her. We were really close when Jane was little. Then …”
“Then Noah died. You joined the army. Went abroad.”
“Right,” she managed. Barrett really didn’t want to tell Nick everything. She swallowed hard, taking another sip of wine to refresh her still tender throat. She’d covered up the bruises with makeup and left her hair down.
“Go on.”
“The lymphoma came back. I saw Sarah now and then but not often enough. She swore she was going to beat it. It was convenient to believe that. She was tough, but just before I met you …”
“How old was her daughter by then?”
“Fourteen. She’s seventeen now. Sweet kid. Shy and imaginative. A little too sheltered. But she hung out with guys Sarah didn’t know sometimes, scared her mother out of her wits. At least they were age appropriate,” Barrett clarified. “The cute boy in the park with a guitar, that type.”
“Got it. Sensitive.”
“Just like Jane. Which was one more reason for Sarah to hide the fact that she was dying. Jane didn’t know and neither did I until the very end.”
Barrett stopped. The room swam. She glanced into Nick’s eyes and looked away. His dark gaze held a deep kindness she remembered only too well. Thank God he refrained from touching her. He got it. Sometimes being comforted was too fucking much to bear.
“But there was enough time to say good-bye to Sarah. Make sure that everything was in order. She appointed her sister and her husband guardians for Jane. I barely knew them but I trusted her choice—why wouldn’t I? And I promised Sarah that I would always look after Jane. She didn’t want to impose but I said yes—she wasn’t specific about the details.”
Then what? He hadn’t asked the question. There was no need to. He just listened.
“Sarah died a few months before I met you. I periodically checked in on Jane but …” Barrett shrugged.
“You were dealing with your own stuff.”
She nodded. “It’s no excuse. I should have been more diligent. Called more, at the very least. I—I assumed if she needed me, she’d reach out. Or her relatives would.”
“But?”
“But they didn’t. She didn’t.” She paused, composing herself. “She started dating darker guys. Got mixed up with one who was into the vampire life. About a week ago, they both disappeared and the boy was found dead. Two nights ago, a mark we were investigating related to sex trafficking finally showed me his site of choice, SexFlash. I’d told him I was interested in a girl, a virgin, that matched Jane’s description. He either already knew about her or found her for me. Suddenly there’s Jane on live video. The caption said Runaway Virgin. She recognized me. Called me Miley, her nickname for me. But then she was gone.”
He didn’t bother asking her if she was sure. If she said it, he’d know she was sure of her ID. Nick sat back, visibly affected. “Hell. She could be anywhere.”
“That’s not all. Whoever shoved her in front of that camera saw me, too.” Barrett’s voice was drained of emotion. “If they figured out that I was someone Jane knew, they probably got my na
me out of her. The hard way. For all I know, she could be—she could be—”
Nick shook his head. “No. Don’t go there. A seventeen-year-old virgin is a valuable commodity,” he said flatly. “She’s still alive.”
“Probably.” Barrett stared at him. “But for how long?”
He didn’t look away. “We’re going to find her, Barrett. You and me.”
“Don’t you have work to do? Whatever that is?” She wasn’t trying to be snotty.
“Yeah. I mean, realistically, I can’t drop everything to help you, but I’ll do what I can.”
“Okay. I can’t ask for more than that.”
“But …” He hesitated. “You know about vampires. You said you contract for the FBI. And you said ‘we’ were looking into sex trafficking, not you. So here’s the million-dollar question. Who, exactly, is we?”
That was the million-dollar question. One she knew she didn’t have any choice but to answer. She’d struggled with that decision. Belladonna was designated black ops for a reason, but with or without a green light from Carly and Mahone, she would have to reveal a little about what was going on. It helped, of course, that Nick was also working with the FBI, and knew about vampires and the Turning Program. It also seemed he knew more than she did. He’d asked her if she had level Six-Vee security clearance. And bottom line, he was a techno wizard when it came to computers and locating missing persons. If anyone could help her find Jane, Nick could.
“I work for a black ops team formed by a division of the FBI. It’s called Belladonna.”
“How did they recruit you?”
“A special agent named Peter Lancaster approached me. Said he needed human women to help him go places where he and his teammates couldn’t.”
Nick had suddenly stiffened. “And you just decided to trust him?”
She scowled. “No. I checked him out. He was legitimate. As legitimate as a turned vampire working for the FBI could be.”
If he’d stiffened before, now Nick seemed to have turned to stone. “He was turned? In the FBI’s Turning Program?”
Barrett hesitated. Was she imagining things or had Nick’s focus sharpened the second she’d mentioned Peter’s name and said he was a turned vampire? She couldn’t even begin to guess why that would be the case, but her guard instinctively went up. She needed to trust Nick with certain information in order to get his help. That information did not include the details of Peter’s turning—or the fact he, Ty, and Ana had been attacked and forcibly turned. “I don’t know how he or the others were turned,” Barrett said, feeling the pressure of the lie in her chest but not knowing what else to do. If she evaded, she’d just make Nick more suspicious. “Anyway, Belladonna’s mission is to track down Rogue vampires, even if they once worked for the Bureau.”