Dream Shard (4 page)

Her eyes widened with the idea and her cheeks caught fire. Cowardly or not, she turned and escaped the confines of the bedroom. She ended up at the front door. She opened it but something kept her from crossing the threshold.

It was the lack of pursuit. She looked over her shoulder, her heart racing with anticipation of what she might find. But her house guest wasn’t hot on her heels. He was leaning against the doorframe of the bedroom, watching her with dark eyes. There was a look of resignation on his face and it pulled on her heart.

“Go on,” he encouraged in a tone that suggested he’d been through the same scene before. “You were right. I was hearing your thoughts.” His lips set into a hard line. “So run.”

Kappel stopped hiking and opened his cell phone.

“Report,” Aurik Dresner demanded smoothly.

“The Army took our bait. They accepted the body as that of their Operative Devon Ross.”

“Good,” Dresner responded. “Do you have the merchandise?”

Kappel wasn’t known for hesitating, but he didn’t want to admit his failure. “Not yet.”

“Your answer is less than satisfactory.”

“He made it out of the helicopter but he can’t be too far. Most likely holed up in one of the summer cabins up here. There is only one road into town. We’re watching it. He’ll surface at some point.”

“For your sake, I hope so.”

The line went dead and Kappel’s throat tightened. He cussed under his breath as he dropped the phone back into his lapel pocket. He’d get Devon Ross and he was going to enjoy shooting the man in the leg for putting him through the stress of finding him.

She couldn’t leave him.

Not after hearing the acceptance in his voice. There was something glittering in his eyes that tugged her back toward him. A sense of loneliness that was so deep she couldn’t turn her back on him.

He scoffed at her, shook his head and pointed at the door. “I don’t need your pity.”

“Have you remembered who you are then?” Her pride had always been big enough to trip over, but that didn’t stop her from walking back into the center of the living room.

“No.”

She pointed to the sofa. “Sit down and let me look at that lump.”

He raised an eyebrow at her and crossed his arms over his chest. His biceps bulged, making him look even bigger than he was. She really was walking on the foolish side of life by not taking the chance to leave, because he was a very large man. One in prime condition too.

“I know your type likes to die on their feet, but in this case, I marked the outline of that lump. So let’s see which way the swelling is going.”

She pointed at the sofa again. He studied her for a long moment, his expression giving nothing away.

“So you’re a nurse.”

He looked like he had to force himself to move toward her.

“And you’re military,” she countered as he sat with a huff. “Rather die than ask for medical help.”

“I think you might be right on that account.”

Her fingers trembled as she reached for him. Knowing he could sense her thoughts was completely unnerving. It was also strangely arousing. Had she found the one man on the planet who could really understand exactly what she needed in bed and out?

Focus.

She leaned close and looked at the outline she’d marked on his scalp.

“What’s the prognosis?”

“I’m a nurse. We’re not licensed to make prognoses.” She made sure to look at all the edges. “But it looks like it isn’t getting any worse. You really need a CAT scan.”

“How many spare tires do you have for that jeep?”

“None. Someone knifed the spare a few months back.”

He twisted and fixed her with a reprimanding look. “And you still came ten miles off the main road?”

“I know it wasn’t the brightest move, but I did have a phone to call for help until you crushed it.” She didn’t care for how fast she defended herself.

He stood. “When you’re on your own, you need to be prepared for the unexpected. We’ll have to wait until tomorrow to walk out. There are only a couple of hours of sunlight left.”

“Afraid of the dark?”

A chilling look entered his eyes. “Just knowledgeable. There are things out there I want to see coming, and I don’t have any night-vision goggles.”

He was freaking her out. She wanted to maintain her composure but there was just a set to his eyes that told her he believed what he was saying. It wasn’t hype or paranoid delusions. So she decided to focus her thoughts on business.

“What are you remembering?”

He moved to the doorway but didn’t stand in it. He looked out at the forest from the side before closing the door. “Nothing concrete. Just emotional peaks.”

“Emotional peaks?”

He nodded, turning to lock gazes with her. “Have you ever encountered someone like me before?”

She was right back to feeling like he needed her. It wasn’t that he was frightened, but he was searching. For a man like him, admitting any form of uncertainty was hard. It was a vulnerability and she understood feeling like her back was exposed.

“No. I’ve seen plenty who claim to be able to…well…” The words stuck in her throat. They conflicted with everything she’d ever known. She had a stupid impulse to go and count the pills in her prescription bottles, just to make sure it wasn’t all part of a dream.

“Be psychic?”

“You say that word pretty comfortably,” she noted.

He didn’t shrug. Didn’t offer any explanations. There was a confidence in his gaze that left her with nothing except the fact that he was something she’d never encountered before. She looked down, needing to shield her thoughts until she recovered her balance, but she caught sight of the pistol.

It chilled her.

“What?”

He didn’t wait for her to answer, but cupped her chin and lifted her face. Her lips had gone dry but she mustered the courage to lock stares with him.

“When you got here, you told me I could end up dead if I made any calls.”

He shifted his attention to the window, scanning the forest with what looked like a practiced motion.

“I guess the question is, were you worried about someone who might be out there or your own nature?”

There, it was out. If he was a psychopath, he’d know she was on to him.

“I’m watching for something…someone out there. The need to keep a low profile is very strong.” He reached down and closed his hand around the butt of the pistol. “I feel this gun is vital to my survival.” He shot her a hard look. “I know I’ve used it.”

She backed away from him but she still didn’t want to run. Something tethered her to him. The truth smacked her hard, making it through all the tension to burst on her like a lightning flash.

He needed her.

And she needed to be something other than a traumatized patient. Her position at the hospital had been filled easily enough and no one really missed her. But he had no one else because of the circumstances. That was why she wasn’t running. She was at the end of her line. So was he.

She just hoped fate didn’t deliver a final, fatal blow when his memory returned.

General Slynn had seen his fallen men laid out before. He also understood the feelings Major Garrick Gennaro was trying to seal behind a stern expression. Gennaro reached out to adjust a shoe lace on a pair of perfectly shined boots sitting at the foot of a flag-draped casket. Each man’s name was noted, their rank and honors. Except for the team Operative. His plate was bare except for his name.

“It looks like there are some more adjustments to make.” The general remarked as he moved beside Gennaro. “He deserves more than to be buried without a single honor noted.”

Garrick nodded. But it was a hard truth that had always surrounded his unit and his Operative. Devon Ross had lived in the shadow world and had known that he’d likely die in those dark corners where men like him were left because the civilian world couldn’t understand the need for them. Slynn was easing that hard line, blurring it bit by bit as he did his best to keep in mind that the Operatives under his command were humans too.

“I requested a DNA identification, sir.”

“I know you did,” Slynn interrupted. “It’s not that I care about the man hours, but I’m denying it because you need to let him go. Your Operative is dead. You have to accept that. I’m not going to give you any further excuses to linger in denial. I’m sorry, Major.”

Chapter Two

Waking up at dawn wasn’t hard this time.

Kalin didn’t think she’d slept more than an hour at a time the entire night. She rubbed her burning eyes and sat. It was brisk, even if it was May. Her house guest was stretched out on her sofa. His boots were still on his feet and the pistol still tucked into the waistband of her grandfather’s jeans.

He really was prime eye candy.

She didn’t bother to chastise herself for thinking about him so inappropriately since he was asleep. Of course, he still might hear her thoughts. What did she know about psychics anyway?

Well, she knew there was some sort of one sleeping on her sofa. The admission still sat a little uneasy on her mind, but there was just too much evidence to reject.

She’d felt him inside her mind. It was eerie and yet more intimate than anything she’d ever experienced.

Sex with him would be off the scale.

Okay, now you’re going too far.

A dip in the chilly waters of the waterfall pool was exactly what she needed, even if her purpose had altered a bit. She rolled off the bed and went into the bathroom. She took a moment to put on a swimsuit before tying her boots and heading down the steps of the back porch. The sky was already streaked with gold. Birds were calling to one another as they began the task of foraging. The gravel crunched under her boots as she made it to the pool.

Had it only been a day?

It seemed so much longer. The water was still spilling into the pool, roaring as the warming temperatures melted the snow at higher elevations. She stripped down to her suit and waded into the water.

Maybe he’d be gone when she returned.

She started swimming, trying to ignore how that idea made her feel.

It really shouldn’t bother her.

Really.

She made it up onto the rocks beneath the falling water and let it cascade over her. Today, her troubling thoughts centered on her guest. Maybe that was an improvement. But she still felt herself growing anxious as she left the water for the swim back to shore.

“I guess the swimsuit is for my benefit.”

She hesitated, looking for him. Up the bank, where the trees were, he’d taken a position against one of their trunks. The way he watched the edges of the clearing made her nervous.

“Did you remember anything?”

She walked out of the water and ordered herself to not shield herself with her hands. He was inspecting her with his dark gaze, but she needed to remember he’d seen more.

He choked on a soft sound of male amusement and her cheeks flared with a scarlet blush.

“Don’t you have any manners?” She stepped into her sweatpants and boots. “I mean, when it comes to listening in all the time?”

He shrugged, a grin curving his lips and making him look far too good. He’d been eye candy before, but without his stern, unapproachable expression, he was pure intoxication for her female senses.

“You’re not too hard on the eyes either.”

She was still blushing, but for a different reason now. Maybe it was misplaced, the timing completely off, but she enjoyed the compliment. She ended up smiling at him, their gazes locking and fusing. A shiver went down her back and it had nothing to do with the chilly mountain water. The delicate skin of her lips tingled, desire for a kiss teasing her. It was fueled by more than what he looked like. She felt him, his strength, and it combined inside her to trigger a flame that she was positive she couldn’t control.

Her nipples tightened, making two little points that betrayed her. She grabbed her sweatshirt and hurried into it. But when her head made it through the opening, horror flooded her.

Two men stood behind her guest, black high-powered rifles in their hands. She blinked, half-certain she was imagining the scene. But they were still there, the guns looking deadly and the hold they had on them all too comfortable. He sensed her distress, whipping around, but the men had those rifles pointed at his chest.

“Hands up.”

He didn’t want to comply. His entire body drew tight, but there was nowhere to go. For a moment, it felt like she could feel his thoughts still and the pure rejection of surrender filled her mind. He would rather die.

“You too, sweetheart.”

She jumped, stumbling on the unsteady ground as another man spoke from behind her.

“Do what he says, Kalin.”

She was gripping her sweatshirt so tightly it didn’t feel like she’d be able to let it go. “What do you want?”

“You’re not in a position to demand information.”

The one talking had a grim look on his face that chilled her blood. He had four gold-capped teeth and no hair on his head. There was two days’ growth of stubble on his face that combined with the memory of how her guest had responded the first time they’d met.

“No calls…no one. Or you’ll end up dead.”

“Move one inch and I’ll shoot your kneecaps off.”

The one talking nodded to his partner and the man shouldered his gun. He pulled a set of handcuffs off his belt and snapped one onto her guest’s hand. She heard him growl.

“Not an inch,” the rifleman warned. “I need you alive, which leaves me plenty of places to put bullets.”

The second man pulled her guest’s opposite hand behind his back and secured the metal cuff.

“Bring her.”

The man behind her jabbed her in the back with his rifle. She moved forward, her steps awkward. Panic was surging up inside her, but there was a strange sense of calm keeping it from overwhelming her.

It took only moments to return to the cabin. At least it felt too quick. Dread built with every step, her once-welcoming cabin looking like a very convenient place to kill her and cover the crime with a fire.

There were four men and two began to search through the bedroom while the other two kept them under guard in the living room. The gold-toothed man pulled out a slim cell phone.

“I’ve got Devon Ross. Meet me at the evac site in one hour.”

“Found these in the bathroom cabinet.”

One of the men handed off the prescription tranquilizers to the gold-toothed man. He read the label and smiled.

“Perfect.”

He looked at her and her heart felt like it stopped. Every fiber of her being rebelled. Her thoughts raced as she tried to think of something, anything to prevent what she sensed was coming.

“Leave her alone. If you came for me, you’ve got me.”

The gold-toothed man gestured her toward the kitchen with the muzzle of his gun.

“I came for you and I made sure to set up a very nice-looking accident scene that I’m not gonna see unmasked by a murder investigation.”

“Leave her alone and I’ll walk out of here with you,” Devon stated.

The man shook his head. “You’re caught and I don’t need her body stirring up questions.”

He tossed the bottle of pills at her but she let them hit her chest and fall to the floor. She felt a moment of satisfaction before her captor snickered.

“I’m a mean fucker,” he drawled out. “If I need this to look like a case of rape, that can happen.” He licked his lower lip. “We’ll all have a go at you, maybe double for some of us. I’ll break your arms so you can’t fight and maybe pop your knees too. Just think about all that pain you’ll get to endure while we have our fun—”

“All right!” She was sweating at just the idea. “I’ll take them.”

“Like hell you will!” Devon growled before ramming himself into the man.

Gold Tooth had been looking at her and he went tumbling forward. Devon gained his footing and popped out a back kick at the second man. It was like watching a transformation, her wounded, almost-dead patient rising up to prove he was just as deadly as the men trying to force her to swallow a lethal dose.

Another man moved in and smashed Devon on the head with the butt of his rifle. Devon jerked before stumbling to his knees. He wasn’t done though, all the muscles on his neck were corded as he strained to rise and continue fighting.

“Don’t hurt him!” she yelled.

“Better worry about yourself.”

Devon landed on the floor, his eyelids fluttering as he struggled to keep his eyes open. He locked gazes with her and she felt him once again inside her thoughts. She didn’t hear his words, only recognized the burn of rebellion and denial, but it was the sting of failure that hurt most. It was bitter and acidic and was too much like accepting defeat.

For him it was intolerable. It conflicted with every fiber of his being.

It was more than the desire to fight. It was a need to not surrender, no matter the odds. No matter who he might be, she admired him in that moment. It wasn’t a decision she made, it was a firm belief that rose from inside her, and she lamented being denied the opportunity to explore her feelings further.

But his body failed him, unconsciousness claiming him, cutting their connection.

She felt like something had been ripped out of her mind.

“So what’s it going to be?” Gold Tooth asked. “Maybe I shouldn’t even give you a choice. A piece of ass is just what I need to celebrate, and yours is pretty tempting. Good, plump tits too. Bet they bounce just right when you’re being hammered.”

“You’ve made your point. I’ll swallow them.” She forced herself to sound whipped.

He spit on her floor and grinned. She turned around and opened the cabinet where the dishes were stored. Her fingers trembled when she reached for a glass.

Think!

There had to be something she might do. She’d never given up on a patient that looked like they should be allowed to slip away into death, and there was no way she was going to calmly accept her own demise.

Keep the medication out of your system.

Her medical knowledge rose above the adrenaline flooding her system. She grabbed a ceramic mug instead of a glass.

“Fill it,” Gold Tooth ordered with a nod toward the faucet.

“I only drink bottled water.”

He snorted at her. “What the fuck does it matter?”

Oh, it mattered all right. She struggled to keep the sparkle of hope out of her eyes. “If it’s my last drink, I’m going to have what I like.”

She turned and opened the panty door. It swung open toward her tormentor, shielding her actions from him. She heard the child-proof cap being turned, the clicking sound biting into her hold on her emotions. There were two bottles of water in the pantry for back up if the lines were iced over, but she reached for the vegetable oil instead. She filled the mug and slammed the pantry shut.

“Take them all.” He dumped a small pile of the tranquilizers onto the bar. When she hesitated, he went to add more of the little pills.

“Don’t worry, there’s plenty there already and then some.”

She swiped them and tossed them in her mouth. The oil was going to be thick, but she lifted the mug and drank the entire cup. She shuddered, but Gold Tooth only attributed it to the pills.

The oil would clog the cells of her stomach lining.

It was a desperate attempt to survive, but it filled her with confidence.

“We’re going to have to carry him,” one of the men behind them groused.

“It’s ten miles to the pickup point.”

“So what?” Gold Tooth snapped. “He’s one of a dozen proven psychics on the planet. Why the fuck do you think he’s worth so much?”

He leaned down and lifted one of Devon’s eyelids. “You’d better hope you didn’t damage the goods. No one knows what makes them psychic. He isn’t worth shit without those abilities.”

She felt like the pills were burning inside her. Gold Tooth reached down to check the handcuffs securing Devon’s wrists.

“Get him out onto the porch. We’re just going to wait for this bitch to pass out.”

Time crawled by. Urgency was pounding through her skull, pushing her to action, but she held back. She needed him to believe she was unconscious. So she began to blink, slowly at first. A satisfied smirk curled Gold Tooth’s lips as she looked like she was fighting to keep her eyes open.

“I like a fighter.” He taunted. “Too bad you’re a loose end I can’t afford.”

“Nice to…know…I can…disappoint…you.”

She slurred her words and leaned against the counter. Acting had never been something she had any interest in learning, but today her performance would mean the difference between death and the opportunity to try and save herself.

She let her head drop as though it was too much effort to hold it up. Controlling her heart rate took the most effort, because she needed to look like she was slipping into a coma. She slid to the floor, pausing for a moment on her knees to make it look like she was fighting to remain awake. She sent a last look at Gold Tooth before collapsing on the floor. It was still cold, but she ordered herself to lie as content as a cat on a warm bed.

Her thoughts became muddled. It was harder to keep track of time. It was tempting to drift off into slumber, but she fought the urge. For the first time in ten months, she purposely recalled the shooting in the Los Angeles emergency room that haunted her. She saw the splattering of blood, heard the cries of her friends as they were hit. The horror kept her awake, just as it had for months, only this time she was grateful.

There was a soft step beside her and she braced herself as Gold Tooth pulled up her eyelid to look at her. She rolled her eyes up and heard a satisfied grunt.

“Let’s go.”

There was a scuff and shuffle as the men hoisted Devon up off the floor. Their boots made heavy sounds as they left the cabin and went down the two steps of the porch. She forced herself to count to one hundred, slowly moving through the numbers as she strained to hear any tiny sound that might be Gold Tooth waiting around to make sure she wasn’t playing possum.

By the time she reached one hundred, she was feeling drowsy. She wasn’t sure if she heard the wind or a step on the living room floor. The need to survive refused to let her be still any longer. She rolled onto her side and pushed her fingers into her mouth. Her gag reflex responded perfectly, her belly heaving up its contents onto the floor. Sweat ran down the sides of her face as she tried to focus her eyes and count the number of pills, but her vision was blurry. She tried again, trying to make sure she’d rid herself of enough of the pills, but all she did was dry heave until her belly ached from the effort of retching before falling back into oblivion.