Dark Defender (13 page)

Hell, he knew he wasn’t completely human, but most of the time he didn’t feel all that different. Back in his training days, a Handler had said the genetic difference between a normal human being and a Paladin was less than one half of one percent. Of course, that small percentage was alien DNA, a legacy from a few Others who had managed to cross the border and insinuate themselves into the population of this world. Their genetic makeup, combined with human, made their offspring different from both the parent stocks in important ways.

Some of the differences were good: longer life, the ability to heal, sharp intelligence. But they were more than offset by the downside: every Paladin, without exception, became more and more like the Others as time went on. It was ironic that he’d spent a lifetime fighting his distant relatives.

“Slow down, Blake, before you choke on your food. We’ve got plenty of time.”

Easy for her to say. But time was running out for both of them. He figured the two St. Louis cops were paid dupes, just as the guard had been back in Seattle. It was the man jerking their strings who interested him.

Closing his eyes, he imagined the pleasure he’d take from slicing the bastard into little pieces. That wasn’t his usual way of doing business. The Others he fought died quickly, if not painlessly. This time, he planned on savoring it.

“Uh, Blake? I don’t know what you’re thinking about, but it can’t be pleasant.” Brenna’s eyes reflected worry and maybe a touch of fear again.

Damn, it was bad enough she thought he was some kind of alien creature, without scaring her on top of it. He dragged his attention back to the present and picked up the bill. “Let’s go. I don’t want to keep Jarvis waiting.”

She reached across the table to lay her hand over his. “Can’t we talk first?”

“About what?” He didn’t move, enjoying the warmth of her hand on his.

She waved her fork in the air. “I don’t know, whatever people talk about. The weather? The last book you read?”

He glanced out the window. “It’s hot outside.”

Brenna rolled her eyes and sat back. “Well, so much for that subject. What have you been reading lately?”

He hesitated, not wanting her to read more into his answer than was necessary. “One of your books.”

“Really?”

“Yes, I told you back in the hospital that I’d read all but the newest one. What’s the matter? Do you think we’re some kind of primitive life form that can’t read?” He held out his hands. “We’ve got opposable thumbs and everything; with special training, we can even turn the pages for ourselves.”

Brenna surprised him by laughing. “I wish you could see your face, Blake.”

Rather than taking offense, he took pleasure in seeing her smile again. It felt damn good to see her enjoying herself, even if it was at his expense.

“Seriously, though, I’m just flattered that you’d buy my books and read them.”

He shrugged. “I like the way you bring history down to how it affects an individual. Most of the time, we only see it from a distance.”

Her eyes lit up with pleasure. “That’s one of the nicest things anyone has ever said about my work. Some of my coworkers at the university sneer because I write for public consumption rather than for some dusty old scholarly magazine.”

She took his hand in hers again, tracing the line of calluses built up from hours of hefting a sword. “I’ll have to send you an advance readers’ copy of the next one. It will be coming out in just over eight months.

His good mood plummeted. If his test results were to be believed, there was a damn good chance that he wouldn’t be around in eight months. He pulled out his wallet and laid down enough money to cover the bill.

“Time to head out.”

Brenna’s smile faded. “Fine with me. Are we still going to stop on the way?”

“Yeah, I think we should.” He glanced at the black cat clock on the diner wall, its tail swishing off the seconds. “I’d better give Jarvis a call and let him know that we’ll be later than I thought.”

“I’m going to stop in the ladies’ room. I’ll meet you at the car.”

She walked away a little too quickly; he watched until she disappeared into the forbidden territory of the women’s restroom. What was she going to do in there that had her glancing back at him so guiltily?

Hell, was she going to do something stupid like write a message to the police on the mirror with a lipstick? He tried to remember if he’d seen her wearing any but came up blank.

No, it was more likely she was going to make a phone call. But to whom? She hadn’t mentioned any close friends since they’d been on the run. He made a mental note to find out more about her private life when things slowed down. Not that he wanted too many details; it would only make it harder to walk away when the time came. He didn’t want to be able to picture her apartment or that college where she worked. Or worse yet, anyone she might be dating.

That thought had him walking toward the restroom, with no idea of what he was intending to do. The realization that he was overreacting brought him up short, and he veered off toward the front door. No matter who it was she called, the two of them would be safely underground in the tunnels before anyone could track them down.

She followed him outside only a moment or two later. He’d been expecting her to drag her feet, giving her mysterious white knight time to come charging to her rescue, but she climbed right into the car. When he started the ignition, though, she put her hand on his.

“We need to stop across the street.”

He turned his head to see a Super Wal-Mart surrounded by swarms of arriving and departing customers. “Why?”

She looked away. “I need to pick up a prescription.”

“You should have told me if you were in pain. We would have stopped yesterday and gotten you something.”

“I’m not in pain.” Her cheeks flushed pink.

“Then what?

“I need my birth control pills.” She glared at him as if daring him to say something.

But at that moment, he couldn’t have strung together two coherent words. Good God—birth control hadn’t even crossed his mind last night. How many time times had they…? Not that it mattered; once without protection was enough. Twice was asking for it. And four or five times…

If he offered to also buy a box of condoms, would she think he was assuming that they’d pick up where they left off this morning? But if she’d missed several doses, she’d be at risk to get pregnant. As he waited for a break in traffic, he tried to decipher his reaction to the situation.

Shouldn’t he be in a panic? The last thing either of them needed was for her to get pregnant by him. She’d been raised by a single parent, but her father had been an exceptional man. Blake didn’t want Brenna struggling to juggle parenthood and her career without a husband there to help. An image filled his mind of a small boy with light gray eyes showing off an impressive tower of blocks to his proud mother. Then with a fiendish grin, he knocked them down, giggling at the noise and destruction.

“Blake, it’s not that big a deal. Lots of women take birth control pills for medical reasons.” She sounded disgusted now.

“Medical reasons?”

“Don’t ask. I need the pills. Is that all right with you?” There was a little temper in her words.

She didn’t want the pills because she was having trouble resisting his dubious charms. No, she just needed them. Disappointment was swift and bitter. That didn’t mean he wouldn’t pick up the condoms—just in case. It might be too late already, considering last night, but he wanted to be prepared.

Jamming his foot on the accelerator, they burned rubber across the street. He took the first spot he found and followed her into the store. She wasn’t going to like it when he bought the economy-size box of condoms, but he’d learned years ago to always be prepared.

The Ozark countryside rolled past Brenna’s window with beautiful tree-covered hills and sparkling rivers. This had always been one of her favorite places to take a leisurely drive. For her last book she’d spent hours roaming the area, tracing the paths of women who had come before her, raising their families in log cabins throughout the Ozarks.

With Trahern at the wheel, the drive was anything but leisurely. They flew past a mileage sign, warning her that the roadside park he’d mentioned was only a short distance away.

She was still trying to deal with that little episode at the store. Just as she was about to pay for her prescription, Blake had set a large box of condoms on the counter, leaving her no choice but to pay for both with the money he’d given her.

It really hadn’t hit her until that moment that they’d been playing with fire, having unprotected sex. Even if she’d only missed a few days of her pills, they were at risk until her new prescription took effect. Her hand strayed to her stomach. She’d always wanted children but had planned to find a husband first, in the ordinary way.

Blake Trahern was anything but ordinary. He leaned more toward extraordinary. How would she explain to a child what he did for a living?
Honey, Daddy will be late tonight because he and his friends have to kill alien invaders.
She wanted to giggle, though there was nothing funny about the whole situation.

Blake slowed for the turn into the park and then stopped. She reached for the envelope they’d tucked under her seat and held it out to him. He accepted it, his silver eyes looking grim.

“Don’t you want to read it first?”

She did, but it wasn’t addressed to her. “No, you go ahead.”

He nodded and climbed out of the car and came around to her side to open her door for her. When he held out his hand, she accepted it without hesitation. No matter who or what he was, he was still the man who had held her in his arms and made her feel safe.

The small park, which offered a panoramic view of the rolling Ozarks to the west, was deserted. Trahern chose a picnic table at random, sat down on the top, and stared at the envelope in his hands, a strange expression on his face.

Rather than hover, she walked the short distance to the restroom to wash up a bit. The splash of cold water on her face felt good. She leaned across the sink to study her face in the mirror. She was tired, and it showed in the dark circles under her eyes. Even so, she felt better than she had two days ago. Too bad she couldn’t borrow some of Blake’s spooky ability to heal.

To give Trahern some privacy, she next walked over to read the small marker that explained the park had been built in memory of one of the founding families in the area. When her life got back to normal, their story might provide the seeds for another book. She loved delving into the past and finding a way to bring it back to life in the minds of her readers.

Blake walked up beside her. She shivered despite the heat, wanting to lean against his oak solid strength, but resisting the temptation.

“He asked me to give this to you.” The legal-size envelope had her name on it in bold letters. “I’ll share the rest of it with you when you’re ready.”

He started to walk away, but she reached out to him. As soon as he stopped, she dropped her hand away from his arm. She knew she was giving him mixed signals—wanting him close, not wanting his alien nature. Maybe it wasn’t fair, but not much in her life was, right now. “Don’t go too far.”

He turned to watch the road, staying close by.

Her fingers shook as she opened the envelope. It hurt to know her father had been so sure of his potential death that he’d felt it necessary to write down his last thoughts to her. Unfolding the paper, she blinked her eyes clear of tears so that she could see the words.

All the grief she’d been holding back finally came crashing down on her. As her heart shattered, tears blinded her, leaving her groping for something solid to hold onto. Then the world tilted—and she fell to the ground.

B
lake caught Brenna’s collapse from the corner of his eye. Son of a bitch! He barely managed to break her fall. He scooped her up in his arms, carried her to the nearest table, and settled her in his lap. At first she fought him, trying to break free, but he wasn’t about to let her go.

Burying her face against his chest, she sobbed, her tears burning hot through his thin T-shirt. He wished like hell that he had the right words to comfort her, but all he could offer was the sanctuary of his arms for as long as she needed him to hold her.

The hurricane of her pain tore through them both. His own grief was as intense as hers, but he lacked the release of tears. It felt as if she was crying for the both of them, even if she was unaware of it. Judge Nichols had been Blake’s personal savior. Without him, he would have died over and over in the streets years ago. The man had given Brenna life, but he’d given Blake hope: a much rarer gift in this world.

He was grateful that they were alone when the dam broke; anyone who stumbled across them would have been shocked by the intensity of Brenna’s tears. But finally, slowly, she grew quieter, and he gently stroked her back, hoping it brought her some peace.

She mumbled against his chest that she was finished now, and he crooked a finger and gently lifted her chin. Her face was blotchy and her eyes swollen and red from her tears—he’d never seen anyone more beautiful in his life. With more gentleness than he’d known he possessed, he slowly lowered his lips to hers. She met him more than half way.

Their sweet kiss brought him the comfort he craved. He tucked her head down against his shoulder and rested his chin on her hair. Her hand found its way up to his face. He closed his eyes and enjoyed the soft caress before turning his face to kiss the palm of her hand.

“Thank you, Blake. I didn’t mean to lose control like that.”

“Don’t sweat it. I’m surprised it didn’t happen sooner.” He gave her a quick squeeze to tell her he was glad to have been there when it hit.

She angled her head to see him better. “My father wanted me to tell you that he trusted you with his life and with me.”

Her words stabbed right into his chest. He had put the man at risk, and it had cost the judge his life.

Evidently Brenna could read him better than anyone else. “No, Blake. This was not your fault. You didn’t plant that bomb. If you hadn’t alerted my father that something was wrong, someone else would have. And you know there was no way he would have kept his nose out of things.”

He wasn’t convinced, but her words helped ease his guilt. Another kiss was definitely in order, though if they kept that up, he might very well want to try out this picnic table. He doubted Brenna would be up for that, even if he was. Literally. The idea had him smiling.

“Blake Trahern, I do not trust that look.” When his grin widened, she figured it out on her own. “No. No way.” She sat up in his lap, which only made her more aware of his body’s reaction. “I will not get naked with you out here in broad daylight.”

Did that mean she would get naked when it got dark? He hoped so. He moved her beside him; the distance would help him concentrate on the matters at hand.

“We need to get going before Jarvis sends out the troops. I promised we’d be there by three at the latest.”

“I’m ready.” Then she realized that she’d dropped her father’s letter. She scrambled off the table to retrieve it and handed it to him. “I think he meant for you to read this, too.”

He quickly scanned the letter. At least the judge had told his daughter good-bye and that he’d loved her. She might not appreciate it now, but later she would draw some comfort from that little bit of closure. But if the man had suspected he was in danger, why in hell hadn’t he called? He knew Blake would have come and brought along trustworthy friends. Together, maybe they could have prevented this whole disaster.

There must have been no time.

He handed the letter back to Brenna. “He was a good man who took his oath seriously. The world is a poorer place without him.”

“Thanks, Blake. That means a lot coming from you.”

They returned to the car.

“What else was in the envelope?” she asked.

“A computer disk and some spreadsheets. He wrote a note that I could trust Jarvis, and should get his help deciphering the information on the disk and the printouts.” There had also been a letter for him—one he wasn’t ready to share with her and perhaps never would.

“Then we’d better get moving.”

“Sounds like a plan.” He turned the key in the ignition and left the small park in their dust.

Jarvis swore. If that damned Regent called or stopped by one more time, he was going to do something they’d both regret. But it might just be worth it, considering what a total prick the man was.

He hated Ritter’s expensive haircut and hand-tailored suits. Even more, he hated the way Ritter sneered at his jeans and scuffed shoes. Screw him! The Regents paid the Paladins handsomely, but Jarvis didn’t spend it on clothes. The bloodstains were too hard to get out.

His phone rang.

Checking his watch, he realized that it might be Trahern. He snatched up the receiver. “Jarvis.”

He listened to what the guard at the entrance told him. “Would you repeat that?”

The second time didn’t make him any happier. What the hell was Trahern thinking? Why couldn’t he have stashed the Nichols woman at some local hotel? Obviously the idiot was thinking with the wrong part of his body. A blind man could see that Trahern had it bad for Brenna Nichols, even if he didn’t want to admit it.

Still, nobody, but nobody, brought civilians into the Center. The place had security that rivaled the Pentagon, but leave it to Blake to do the unexpected.

“I’ll come down myself.”

He took his time, knowing he would draw more unwanted attention to the breach in security if he rushed down to the gate. He’d rip Trahern’s head off when he got him and his unwanted companion back to his office.

The guard stood with his gun aimed squarely at Trahern’s chest. Jarvis scowled in disgust. Only a head shot would have stopped Trahern from entering the compound if he wanted to. The only reason he’d held back was because that would have put Brenna Nichols at risk.

Trahern saw him before the guard did. “Can’t say much for your hospitality, Jarvis.”

The guard remained stationary, but his stance was more relaxed. “Sir, Blake Trahern has clearance to enter, but the woman does not. She claims to be Judge Nichols’s daughter.”

“That’s exactly who she is, so you can stand down. I’ll take responsibility for the two of them.”

He waved them through the security arch, ignoring the warning alarm that Trahern was packing weapons. Every Paladin set the alarms off regularly.

“Glad to see you up and about, Ms. Nichols.” He didn’t miss the way she stayed close to Trahern; evidently Blake had convinced her to trust him. Lucky bastard.

“Follow me and we’ll go to my office.” He quickly got them into an elevator, getting her out of sight before the nosy Regent found her, and pressed the codes that would take them deep into the Earth.

When the elevator settled on the lowest level with a gentle bump, he was the first out of the door. The gods were smiling on him, because the immediate area was empty.

“We’re in the clear, so hustle.”

Before they reached the end of the corridor, though, Trahern grabbed his arm and he angled his head to the side. Someone was coming down the hallway to the right. The three of them backed away, taking refuge in a weapons closet. Brenna looked horrified, although not surprised, at the sight of all those swords and axes. How much had Trahern told her?

When the two guards passed by without incident, the three all but ran the short distance to Jarvis’s office. When the door shut behind them, he took a deep breath and let it out. They were safe for the moment.

“What’s so damn important, Trahern, that you’d be crazy enough to bring her here? You know the rules. If anyone finds out what you’ve done, they’ll slap you in chains and turn you over to the Handlers.” He crossed his arms over his chest.

Trahern’s eyes turned to silver ice. “The judge was killed by one of our own.”

Jarvis glanced at Brenna. “And she knows who and what we are?”

“She
can answer for herself.” Brenna moved to stand beside Trahern. “I know what Blake’s told me. And my father told me to trust him.”

“What about me?”

“You, too.” She nodded. “Despite the wild stories I’ve been hearing, it was my father’s wish that I trust you two to find out who killed him.”

Jarvis turned his attention back to Trahern. “I assume you’ve got some proof that one of our own is behind the attacks.”

Trahern held out an envelope. “According to the judge, it’s all in here. That’s what got him killed. I figure it will kill us, too, if we aren’t careful. Are you in or out?”

Jarvis didn’t have to even think about it. “In.” He took the package.

“We’ve got to go back in.”

Detective Swan took a swallow from his over-size soft drink. They were parked in the alley behind the judge’s house. “No matter what that Mr. Knight says, we have to at least act like this is a normal murder investigation. If we don’t give the lieutenant something soon, he’s gonna be riding our asses. He’s under a lot of pressure from the top to get this case solved.”

“Tell me something I don’t know.” Montgomery wadded up the last of his burrito in a napkin and tossed it back in the bag. He should have known better than to eat spicy, greasy food when he was this tense. He kept a bottle of antacids in the glove box, but if they didn’t get a handle on this situation soon, he’d have worse than a case of heartburn.

“We’ve been through that damn house so many times, I feel like I live there.” He leaned back against the headrest and closed his eyes. “We need to find that guy Brenna Nichols took off with, not to mention her. She knows more than she told us at the hospital.”

Swan laughed. “We already know who killed the judge. Knight wouldn’t be greasing our palms if he weren’t the one who wired the bomb into the ignition of the judge’s car. The real questions are why he did it and why this Trahern fellow is sniffing around.”

Montgomery added, “And why Brenna Nichols took off like a scared rabbit. If she didn’t have something to hide, she would have asked for police protection like anyone else would have.”

Yeah, that was a definite puzzle. But the one Swan was interested in solving was the identity of Mr. Knight. If that was the man’s real name, he’d eat his badge for breakfast. So far he hadn’t been able to get the guy’s prints, but the man had to slip up sometime. When he did, Montgomery would coerce his buddy in the lab to run the prints ahead of the pile of cases waiting.

“Let’s run a check on Trahern’s bank card again,” he said. “The man can’t be made of cash. At some point either he or the woman is going to have to hit an ATM or a bank. When they do, we’ll know where to start looking.”

Swan wolfed down the last of his tacos. “You check those. I’m going to call a few more rental agencies and see if I can come up with what kind of car he has now.”

“Good idea.”

He liked it when his young partner came up with an idea on his own. Swan might have the makings of a good detective yet, but Montgomery wouldn’t be around to find out. Either he was going to retire with the money that Knight paid him, or he was going to dig a hole to hide in when Knight decided he and Swan were no longer of use.

“Let’s head for the office.”

The thought of seeing their commanding officer had Montgomery reaching for the antacids again. He was going to need another bottle soon.

Brenna looked cold. He should have thought to tell her to bring a jacket. Paladins didn’t notice the constant chill of the tunnels, but humans didn’t tolerate the low temperature as easily. He upped the thermostat in Jarvis’s office a few degrees.

How much longer was Jarvis going to be gone? He was tired of pacing the room, while Brenna sat dozing in a chair. The bruises from the explosion were fading rapidly, but the dark circles under her eyes reminded him how much she’d been through the past few days. He reached out to run a lock of her hair through his fingers, wishing there was something more he could do for her.

He’d certainly played his part in turning her world upside down—both in bed and out. He’d carry the memories to his grave of how damn good she’d felt underneath him, panting his name as he pushed them both over the edge.

She’d made him feel warm and human again. If Jarvis hadn’t been due to come back at any moment, he’d have given in to the temptation to kiss her awake and convince her to try out the top of Jarvis’s desk. Would she find it a cut above a picnic table? Somehow he doubted it.

He frowned just as she shivered again, reminding him again how unsuited she was to his world. With a muttered curse, he stripped off his outer shirt and draped it over her.

Her eyes opened and she gave him a sleepy smile. “Thanks. Are you sure you don’t need it?”

“If I did, I wouldn’t have given it to you.”

She frowned and then closed her eyes, shutting him out. He knew he was snapping at her, but this constant waiting was eating at him. Maybe he should have explained that Paladins quickly adapt to the ambient temperature, from severe cold to severe heat—but she already looked at him like a particularly interesting bug. The last thing he wanted to do was give her any more examples of how strange he was.