Cherry Adair - T-flac 09 (30 page)

She screamed, scrambling backward, her back thumping into a wall behind her as Caleb suddenly materialized out of thin air right in front of her.

He was gloriously, unabashedly, stark naked.

Hand over her leaping heart, she stared at him, openmouthed in shock. Her blood still ran hot, and her pulse throbbed beneath her skin. She was surprised. Angry. Confused as hell. Not even a teensy bit turned on to see his bronzed skin gleam satin in the brilliant sunlight, as she followed the dark line of hair pointing down to his heavy sex. She dragged her attention up his chest to his face. Her mouth was bone-dry. “How—”

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“You can’t be out here alone, Heather,” he told her grimly, stepping forward, seemingly unaware of his nakedness, as comfortable as a warrior. “Al-Adel obviously knew your father’s location. I don’t want that sick son of a bitch anywhere near you. Come back to the hotel. Please.” He held out his hand, palm up.

Two elderly, black-garbed women, shopping baskets on their arms, passed behind Caleb. Their eyes went wide as they saw him, and then they giggled, heads together like teenagers as they continued down the hill, shooting backward glances as they walked.

Heather swallowed hard. “I’m going over there to see if my father is really there, or…”

“He’s not.” His hands clamped on her upper arms, and his nearness immediately spiked her internal temperature, throwing her off balance. “If you want to see his body, I swear I’ll take you to see him. But you have to get inside. Now.”

And then they were inside their room. Heather blinked at the dimness, dizzy and disoriented. Caleb held her steady for a moment, his eyes, his lying, deceitful eyes, filled with concern.

“Okay?”

“Peachy.” She wiggled. “Let go.”

“You’ll experience a little dizziness…” He released her but didn’t move away. “Teleportation,” he said by way of explanation.

The vertigo subsided. Thank God. She struggled to make sense of the impossible.

“To quote Sir Arthur Conan Doyle, ‘When you have eliminated the impossible,’” Caleb told her quietly as she plopped down on the side of the bed and just sat there staring at him. “‘Whatever remains, however improbable, must be the truth.’”

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After a few minutes, she rose to her feet. Her knees were still a little watery. “Was Doyle talking about wizards?” It was all both impossible
and
improbable.

She walked over to her still-packed suitcase. In the lining were three more passports. Ten grand in loose diamonds that she’d strung together to make a cheap-looking necklace, and a handful of credit cards in various names. This same small suitcase had traveled around the world with her. Right now everything she owned, barring her tools and the jewelry she had stashed in a safety deposit box outside San Francisco, was right here. She could go anywhere in the world. And disappear. Again.

Caleb came up behind her as she slammed down the lid and locked the case. “Maybe.” He rested his hands on her shoulders.

His breath shifted the hair brushing her shoulders. He was that close. She felt the heat of his skin, his bare skin, all the way down her back through the thin cotton of her dress. She closed her eyes against the desperate ache in her chest. Because by rights she should have been able to turn into his arms. To lift her face for his kiss—

That fantasy was gone. Burst like a toxic bubble in a shower of splintery black shards.

“You can’t force me to stay here.” She spun around, the suitcase clutched in both hands, and shot him a furious glance. “And for God’s sake put on some clo—Oh, God.”

He was fully dressed.

Black jeans, a dark blue T-shirt, and black running shoes. He smelled as though he’d just stepped out of the shower. Even his dark hair was wet. “You—” she watched a drop of water run down his temple and forgot what she’d been about to say.

His eyes were serious. He looked nothing like the man she’d thought she’d married. There was nothing sweet nor kind about this hard-faced stranger.

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“What do you want to do?”

“Don’t tempt me.” She was shocked at how
violent
she felt. “I’m going over there.” She indicated the view outside the open window. The brilliant white tufa stone house on the hillside opposite them. “If my father is there—or
was
there—his security team will tell me what happened. I can’t think beyond that.”

“I’d rather you didn’t go back over there.” Caleb’s voice was annoying reasonable. “Al-Adel isn’t aware that your father is no longer there. But,” he glanced at his wristwatch, “in about an hour, he’ll show up, guns blazing.”

“If this load of crap is the truth, then you don’t have to worry. If my father is really dead, then I’ll be on the first flight back to San Francisco.”
To pick up the jewelry, then I’m going to lose myself in
Mexico. But first I’m going across the ravine to that house we went to…

“I’d rather you went to stay with my brother Gabriel until this situation has been resolved. I can have you in Montana in a flash.”

Not just no,Heather thought, shuddering.
Hell no.
“I don’t think so. No to the brother, and no to the mode of transportation. I’ll take a commercial flight.”

“Will you at least let me have a couple of my guys go with you? Make sure that everything is safe?”

“Are they…wizards too?”

“Yeah.”

“I want to go
now.
” If this was all true, then her father’s security team would—oh, my God. She’d seen her father’s men disappear one by one without a sound. She rubbed her temples. “I’m not hanging around for some strange guys to show up.”

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“Heather,” Caleb said dryly. She flinched, the blood draining from her head as two men appeared between her and the door. “Meet Anthony Rook and Keir Farris.”

Rook teleported back to the safe house to fetch the car and bring it to the top of the ravine. Caleb, Rook, and Farris would escort Heather up the hill and into the vehicle. She wasn’t budging on the Gabriel issue, so Caleb was grateful that she was at least willing to accept two of his men as bodyguards.

Until the situation was resolved.

She’d gone to take a quick shower while they waited for Rook to return. Of course it had taken Rook less time to teleport to the car and teleport it back to where they needed it than it had taken Heather to walk down the stairs to the bathroom. But the least he could do was permit her to shower before she started the long trip back.

Caleb could hear the water running and tried to drag his mind from Heather, wet and naked in the shower back to his associate.

“The Six March group showed up at a small private airfield fifteen minutes ago,” Farris told Caleb.

T-FLAC had people monitoring all forms of transportation in and out of the area. Al-Adel and his group weren’t the only terrorists with a vested interest in Shaw and/or the money. Once word got out—which it surely had—tangos would be on this place like flies on dead meat. Of course they didn’t know yet that Shaw had been removed.

Not unexpected. The vultures were starting to circle. Whoever had access to the missing funds would control the whole terrorist financial pie. Forty-eight billion dollars would buy any damn thing they wanted for any type of nefarious, maximum-destruction plan.

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“Where are they now?”

“Matera,” Farris told him, helping himself to a Brazil nut as he leaned against a table next to the window.

“Dekker’s with them.”

“Listen, I know it sucks that I’m sending you away from the action, but keeping Heather safe is important, too,” Caleb reminded his teammate and friend. Caleb was in charge of this mission, and he could tell his men to do whatever he damn well pleased, knowing they’d instantly obey. He also knew that Keir and the other wizards, like himself, chafed when the missions were this tame. This white-collar.

Usually there was a ticking clock, a literal bomb about to drop, keeping them motivated.

Yeah, tangos were everywhere, but it would be bad guys killing bad guys until the money turned up.

He rubbed his jaw, almost wishing he could undo Shaw’s death. For Heather’s sake, if nothing else.

How would it feel finding out that your flesh and blood was one of the bad guys?

Caleb had no idea how or even why Babette Shaw had managed to steal the money from that account.

But he’d bet his last dime that the consequences hadn’t occurred to her.

By ransacking her husband’s client’s account, moving the money to an unspecified location, Shaw’s wife had placed all that power up for grabs.

Now Caleb was asking two highly trained T-FLAC operatives to basically act as bodyguards. Worse, to take a trip that could’ve taken them minutes via teleportation. Now they’d have to endure it for fifteen hours.

His friend stole another nut and nodded, but kept his opinions to himself.

“I appreciate you going on my behalf. She won’t—She’s stubborn.”

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Laughing, Farris arched a brow in a gesture for Caleb to continue.

Caleb shoved a hand into his front pocket. Heather had summarily refused his original plan to teleport her back to San Francisco. She had some issues with teleportation’s effect on Bean—not that there was one, but his protests had fallen on deaf, uninformed ears. “See if you can change her mind on the drive to the airport,” he advised, half listening to the water still running in the bathroom. “If not, I want you and Rook to stick to her like white on rice until this is over. I don’t want her threatened or frightened by
anyone.
”

Remembering her fire as she confronted him earlier, he figured it would take a lot to scare her. “None of those assholes gets anywhere near her,
comprende
?”

“Got it. And where will
you
be in the meantime?”

“I’m positive her mother gave her something the day she died. If Heather knows what that was, she’s not exactly inclined to share the intel with me. I gotta tell you, Farris, I could get it out of her, but after everything I’ve already put her through, I just don’t have the chops to do it. She wasn’t supposed to remember her father getting shot.”

Caleb stalked to the window and looked out. “She might not even actually know what it is her mother gave her. Hell, it’s quicker just to backspace to last March and that Parisian bazaar. See what the hell it was for myself. By the time you guys land, I’ll be in San Francisco waiting. Hopefully with the information we need to get that money.”

“She does appear to be a little, uh, upset, with you at the moment,” Farris said with a small smile, watching Caleb pace.

“She hates my guts. Which in the grand scheme of things is for the best.” His stomach twisted.

“So, are you gonna dump her?”

“Heather?” Caleb asked, as if there were any other woman on his mind. “She was part of the op.” He
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didn’t have to lie anymore. “The assignment is almost over.”

“And I guess it’s a minor detail to the legendary Caleb Edge that the woman is not only his wife, but pregnant as well?”

“Heather and Bean will be well taken care of.”

“Bean?”

“The baby. Damn! What the hell’s taking her so long down there? She’s not gonna have any skin left.”

“Is there a window?” Farris asked, clearly enjoying himself.

“Yeah. There is. It’s this size.” Caleb indicated about two feet square. “She’s not stupid, Keir. She knows there are bad guys out there, even if she doesn’t fully believe everything I’ve told her. She’s not going to do anything to put herself and Bean in danger. She might not like me giving her orders, but she’ll do what needs to be done to protect the baby.”

He hoped he was right.

THESASSI, MATERA

SUNDAY, APRIL16

10:20A.M .

Heather flicked a glance at the car clock. According to what Caleb had told her, twenty minutes ago, she had walked into her father’s house and seen him get shot. On this day, at about this time. It made absolutely no sense whatsoever.

She sat in the back of the car, Caleb’s men in front, on the way to Bari airport. Like Caleb, they’d tried
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to convince her that it would be safer, not to mention more expedient, for them to teleport her back to San Francisco. She’d politely and adamantly refused. She couldn’t dispute what she’d witnessed with her own eyes, but that didn’t mean she was willing to put Bean through something she didn’t know was one hundred percent safe. There wasn’t anything on “Wizardry During Pregnancy” in any of the books she’d read about what to expect when you’re expecting.