Code Name: Baby (19 page)

Was this an image distortion pattern directed at him, another new skill Cruz had acquired since his “death”? For a moment the darkness blurred. Instantly Wolfe targeted the pattern's source, shielding his and the dogs' presence with an image of running water over high boulders.

The darkness shifted again, moving along the wall like a greasy film.

Baby made a throaty sound and pressed against Wolfe's leg as they came to the first step of the porch. With the patio light falling in a warm pool around him, Wolfe opened the door for the dogs, which shot inside and then turned back. Motionless in a row, they waited for him to follow.

Despite the threat, they stayed in defensive array, alert and fearless.

Wolfe turned to stare into the darkness, alert for any movement, any threat, even a blurred sense of Cruz's distinctive energy signature.

None came.

Could his old partner vanish completely now? Was that another skill he'd acquired under Ryker's secret training?

A hawk swooped low and then vanished, swallowed by the night. Frowning, Wolfe closed and locked the patio doors, but the tension did not leave his neck.

Outside the darkness seemed to move forward and wrap itself around the house, mocking him.

“S
AY THIS AGAIN
. You saw
what?
” Izzy paced in a tight circle. “You're telling me that Baby managed to jump up onto a branch beside you? No way, Navy. Dogs don't climb trees, not even superdogs like these.”

“It happened, Teague. I
saw
it happen. The dog was a foot away from me.”

“In the dark you could have—”

“But I didn't. I have perfect vision up to 500 yards at night. We all have photo receptor enhancements, and those dogs did
exactly
what I told you.” For a second time Wolfe described the scene in the back yard.

“Incredible.” Izzy stopped pacing and sank into a big leather wing chair. “Hard to believe. Why hasn't Kit noticed any of this?”

Wolfe jammed his hand through his hair. “My guess is it's new behavior, possibly triggered by my presence. Our chips and nanotech are similar. Maybe our bio-enhancements are creating some kind of feedback between us.” He stared out at the back yard, frowning. “I'm no biologist, so don't ask me for details. But I can tell you they definitely felt someone outside near that wall. They knew before I did.”

Baby trotted into the room, carrying her water dish. “At least that's easy to understand.” Wolfe followed the dog into the kitchen and refilled all three bowls while Izzy stood up to pace again.

“Okay, so they're geniuses. From what you saw, they work as a team. We knew it was likely, and now it's been demonstrated.”

“Whatever I felt left no physical traces. There was no sound or movement and none of Cruz's old energy pattern.” Wolfe moved to the window, unable to forget the sudden oppressive weight and the brush of fear. “Baby and Butch nearly bit me, trying to pull me back from the wall.”

“I'll check it out.” Izzy started for the door, but Wolfe blocked him.

“Take someone out there with you. Be sure you verify his identity before and after, too. If it's Cruz, you won't see anything—not until he wants you to. And what you
see
won't necessarily be what's really there.”

“Image displacement?”

“Count on it.” Wolfe laughed grimly. “Cruz was better than any of us. He learned it first and set the gold standard. Now, with his enhancements
and
paranoia, he'll be tough and nearly invisible. Finding him won't be easy.”

“Especially now that we've lost our interrogation subject. The guy snapped and he's gone totally psycho. Cruz must have gotten to him at a distance. Ryker knows more than he's saying about it, and he's mad as hell.” Izzy shook his head. “I'm not sure I want to know what you and your team are capable of.”

Izzy flipped open his cell phone. His voice was cool and controlled as he strode to the front door, ordering a complete perimeter scan carried out via paired units with reports every two minutes.

Wolfe wanted to head outside with him, but that would mean leaving Kit and the dogs unprotected, and he sensed that that was exactly what Cruz wanted.

If the situations were reversed, it's exactly what he would have done.

 

A
FTER CHECKING
to make sure Kit was still asleep, Wolfe stood at the picture window overlooking the yard. As he watched Izzy's team comb the darkness, he made a mental check for any disruptions or signs of Cruz's field signature, but the night seemed calm, even welcoming now, the moon a silver chip adrift on racing clouds.

He told himself the strange feeling he'd had in the back yard was irrelevant, a function of stress, darkness and too much adrenaline. But he couldn't ignore the dogs' behavior near the wall, and he was too experienced a soldier to discount an adversary just because he couldn't see it or touch it.

Unable to relax, he triggered his cell phone.

“Yeah.” Izzy's voice was a whisper.

“What have you got?”

“Jack shit. No people, no animals, no nothing. There's no hint of anything unusual out here.”

“You checked IDs for every man on your team?”

“Twice. Everyone is
exactly
who they say they are. But I'm upping our alert level. We'll do overlapping rotations for safety. New pass codes every hour, too.”

“Keep me updated.”

“Will do. Meanwhile, you should get some shut-eye, and leave the heavy lifting to us.” There was a pause. “You do
sleep,
don't you?”

Wolfe laughed dryly. “Need to know, Teague. And you
don't.
”

He flipped the cell phone shut and sank down on the big leather couch, trying to relax, the way Izzy had suggested. One of the benefits of his enhancements was a shortened sleep cycle. Even a twenty-minute nap would leave him reenergized.

Something brushed his arm, and he realized Baby was on the couch, watching every move he made. Kit's white cotton bra was dangling from the puppy's teeth.

“What? Is something wrong with Kit?”

Baby's tail banged on the couch. She dropped the bra in Wolfe's lap and gave a whine that sounded like distress.

Wolfe took the stairs two at a time, then raced down the hall, but Kit was exactly the way he'd left her, asleep on the big bed, one leg dangling from beneath satin covers with a pillow wedged against her chest.

No broken windows.

No intruders.

What was going on? When Wolfe turned around, Baby was right behind him, and Kit's bra was still caught between her teeth.

“Troublemaker.” If the dog had a message, it was beyond him. Or maybe it was some new search and retrieve game. He'd noticed that the dogs seemed to love playing games of any sort.

He headed back to the couch and flipped off the light.

Feet padded softly. The three dogs stopped in a row in front of the stairs.

Wolfe watched them stretch one by one, then lie down. He'd been on all kinds of missions in all kinds of hellholes, but none had been half as strange as this assignment.

He shifted to one side, moving his shoulder holster to get comfortable. What would the dogs say if they could talk? What threat had they sensed out in the night?

Too bad they couldn't tell him.

As he closed his eyes, he let his thoughts wander. With a controlled breathing pattern, he drifted down into the edge of theta, enjoying a pleasant encounter with three women wearing orchids, hot smiles and nothing else.

Then he realized that every one of the women looked like Kit.

You're losing it, Houston. She's getting under your skin.

Something hit the floor upstairs. As he shot to his feet, Wolfe heard Kit scream his name.

H
E HIT THE FLOOR RUNNING
and was up the stairs to Kit's bedroom in three seconds. Kicking open the door, his Sig level, he sighted through the doorway, side first to minimize his target area while he watched for shadows.

Nothing moved.

A crack of light outlined the bathroom door. Wolfe heard the shower running. Why would she be taking a damned shower
now?

He strode across the room and waited, hearing nothing but the sound of water. In one fluid motion he threw open the door and tracked his Sig across the room.

There was no sign of Kit anywhere as he saw the shower curtain fluttering beneath the pounding spray. He moved closer, peering around the curtain.

He was stunned to see Kit on the floor of the shower, her legs drawn up against her chest.

“Honey, are you okay?”

With her eyes closed and the shower at full force, she didn't seem to know he was there. After checking the windows and closets to make sure both rooms were clear, he walked back to the door.

Her face was tight with pain, her body shaking. He didn't want to frighten her, so he moved out of sight and twitched the shower curtain a few times. “Are you there, Kit? Everything okay?”

He heard her muffled gasp. “F-fine. Go away.”

“Sure I will, honey.”
Like hell he would.
“First tell me what's going on. I heard a bang and then you screamed.”

“I tripped, that's all. There's no need to stay.”

Wolfe frowned. Did she really expect him to buy that? “Can I do anything? Bring you a towel or—”

“
No.
I'm going to finish in here, then go back to sleep.” Her voice was tight. “I'll be fine.”

Water raced between them in a steaming trail. Wolfe didn't answer her, hidden behind the curtain. She must have tripped, fallen sideways and hit the floor. There was no mistaking the bruises he'd seen darkening her hip and leg. He could imagine the pain she must be in now.

And she thought he wouldn't notice?

“I'll help you back to bed.” His voice was cool and impersonal. By fierce effort he drove down his anger at the sight of her white face. Shivering, she huddled against the wet wall in the grip of an illness that would slowly whittle away her freedom and her confidence.

She made a small, broken sound. “Just g-go, Wolfe. I don't want you to—”

He pulled back the shower curtain and stepped through the steaming water. Ignoring her angry questions, he scooped her up, flipped off the shower, and grabbed a towel on his way out to the bedroom, where he wrapped the towel around her shivering body and laid her gently on the bed.

Kit's eyes squeezed shut. “Go away,” she said hoarsely. “Please, Wolfe.”

“You called my name because you needed me.”

She didn't answer, turning her face away to avoid his eyes.

With quick, gentle motions he dried her hair and body. “I'll be done shortly. Then you can relax.”

“Relax?” She gave a choked laugh. “Not in this lifetime. Not after you saw me in there—like
that.
”

Wolfe kept his voice impersonal. “What happened?”

After a long time she opened her eyes. “I fell.” Her face was tense, daring him to show pity.

“Sorry to hear it.” He tried to ignore her soft hips, her long legs. When had she gotten so damned gorgeous? It seemed only yesterday he'd caught her trying to fly by jumping off an old, broken-down pickup truck on the ranch.

Times change.

There were spots of color in her cheeks, and he knew that she was mortified. He wasn't too happy with the situation either. “Tell me what happened in there. Was there something at the window? Did you see someone in the room?” He had to be sure there were no signs of threat that he had missed.

Her eyes narrowed. “You think someone followed us? Are those men from the Hummer coming
here?
”

Wolfe finished drying her shoulders, forcing his eyes away from the curve of her breasts. “I don't expect them to,” he said gruffly. “On the other hand I've got a lot of enemies.” He finished fast, drew the covers up over her, then let out a slow breath. “Go to sleep. You can handle the rest yourself.”

She ignored him, gripping the covers. “I was sleepy before, but I'm wide awake now. I want answers, Wolfe. Who are these people following you?”

He decided to let her go on thinking that
he
was the target. There would be fewer questions that way. “I told you, I'm not exactly popular in certain quarters. My guess is that someone tracked me to Santa Fe.”

“But why did you bring me along with you? I'm not part of this.”

“Until I'm certain we weren't followed, this is the only way to keep you safe.”
More lies.
“Now let's talk about you,” he snapped. “How long have you been falling like that?”

She closed her eyes. “None of your business.”

“It doesn't take a genius to see you're in pain, Kit. You've got new bruises mixed with five or six older ones on your legs. What's going on?”

Her chin rose. “I was tired and I got clumsy. End of story.”

“Back in the canal tonight, was that clumsiness too?”

“It was dark. I slipped. So sue me.”

He didn't want to sue her. He wanted to shake her and kiss her until she wrapped her legs around him, took him inside her and moaned his name, out of control with lust. The force of that need left him shaken, and he had to look away. His control was slipping and it made him furious.
Nothing
shook him. Nothing ever frightened him, either.

Until now. First the scene in the back yard with the dogs. Now Kit's pain and the knowledge that there wasn't a damn thing he could do to help her medically.

Her fingers savaged a seam on the white quilt. “Two men in a Humvee tried to drive us off the road tonight. Then they shot at you and basically destroyed my Jeep. That's bad enough, but all you'll tell me is some of your old enemies are up to no good.” Her voice rose on an edge of hysteria. “Not good enough. I want more or I'm going to the police.”

“Okay, calm down. I'll tell you what I can. I was doing covert surveillance in the area, arranged by your local authorities. There's been a security leak at a nearby research facility and I'm tracking someone involved.”

“What kind of security leak?”

“I can't discuss that, Kit. You know how this works.”

“So that's all you're going to tell me?”

“Sorry if you were expecting more details, but that's not the way the government works.”

“Something else is going on, Wolfe. I need to know what.” She didn't move, her whole body tense. “Look at me.”

“That's all you're getting.” He sat on the edge of the bed and forced all emotion from his face. “Take it or leave it.”

“I know the rules. Whatever you're doing here is probably dangerous and classified to the nth degree. I can accept that part. What I can't accept is the thought that my dogs are at risk.”

“It's fine to endanger
you,
but not your dogs?”

“That's right.” She shook her head as if the question made no sense.

Stubborn and impossible, Wolfe thought. Generous and amazing.

“Well?” she said flatly.

“Well what?”

She swung out her arm, gesturing at the fine carpets and precious old pottery. “This house where you've brought me—that's part of your simple surveillance, too?”

“Damn it, Kit. I can't talk about—”

She cut him off, her eyes dark against the pallor of her face. “Am I involved? Are my
dogs
in danger? That's all I need to know. No details. You owe me that much, Wolfe. Just yes or no.”

“There's no danger to your dogs.” He lied coolly, aware that his orders gave him no other choice. “I'm sorry this happened—and that you were involved. I'll see that your car is repaired, I promise.”

She nodded slowly. “And Diesel?”

“Resting safely at your friend Liz's clinic.” At least this much was true. He'd checked with Izzy.

“Thank you for the truth.” Somewhere downstairs a clock chimed, the sound echoing through the silent house. “I could still break both your legs for not telling me sooner.” Yawning, she pulled the covers up to her neck. “I think maybe I can sleep now. You can leave.”

“So we're not going to discuss what happened in the shower?”

“No.”

“Damn it, Kit—”

She rubbed her eyes. “It's been a long day, Wolfe.” She shot him a glazed look. “Drat. Dogs—have to go out. They need to be walked.”

“Already taken care of.”

“Water, too.” She frowned, trying to sit up.

“Ditto.”

“No kidding.” Her eyes closed. “That makes you
almost
human in my book. Not enough for Miki's ridiculous plan.”

“What plan?”

“Preemptive sex. Perfect thing to nix an obsession, she tells me.” Kit yawned again. “Crazy idea.”

Preemptive sex?
Leave it to Miki to come up with a mush-brained idea like that. Wolfe had something better in mind to cure what appeared to be a rapidly growing case of mutual, unpredictable lust.

The answer was simple. They'd have a calm, frank talk with all their cards on the table. That would clear the air just fine.

In the silent house he stared at Kit's hands, motionless on the white quilt. He could almost feel the warmth of her skin, the faint skip of her pulse while she slept.

She had welcomed him home. Didn't she know that home was a cold memory he'd worked hard to erase? Didn't she understand that one of the reasons he was so good at his work was the very lack of protection and kindness he had growing up? His past had made him strong and ruthless. Now he had a skill for destruction without emotion or regret.

His mouth twisted in a bitter smile.

Welcome home.

They were inches apart, their bodies almost touching. They might as well have been on opposite sides of the ocean.

Lying on the rug, Baby sneezed. Her tail banged once.

“You three troublemakers had better get some sleep,” he said quietly.

Butch rolled over, his legs in the air, while Sundance scratched at one paw.

A log hissed in the fireplace, setting off a rain of orange embers.

Maybe
this
was home, Wolfe thought dimly. Not a place, not a building, but a state of mind.

Or maybe it was a state of grace.

 

T
HE SAND WAS WHITE
, crunching beneath his feet. The drinks were cold and the woman walking toward him, removing a skimpy red bikini bottom, was
very
hot. He felt his body respond, saw her inviting glance.

Suddenly her face changed. Not a stranger now, she smiled with Kit's smile and laughed with Kit's laugh.

She had a sprinkling of freckles across her breasts when he pulled off her bikini top. She was full and lush beneath his hands, whispering his name while her body flowed against him like silk.

He felt the sand, hot on his back, his body on fire as he slid one finger along her tight cleft, dragging a moan from her soft mouth. Sure and expert, he made her moan again, until she clawed his back and shuddered to a fierce climax with her legs wrapped around his waist.

Even then he focused on her response, goading her to pleasure with expert skill. He had been trained to know a woman's body, trained to use her arousal against her when a mission required it. The training was completely impersonal, and he'd never felt a hint of guilt at using it.

Until he looked into Kit's dark eyes in the middle of a hot, reckless dream.

Wood creaked.

Cool air brushed his face.

Wolfe shot to his feet as the dream fled. One hand on his holstered Sig, he clawed back to wakefulness, checking for intruders in the same instant.

She was up on the stairs silhouetted against the light from the hall, a pillow and blanket bunched under her arm. The dogs were right beside her.

“What's wrong?” he demanded, his voice hoarse.

“I couldn't sleep. I thought maybe we could talk.”