Eternal Nights (38 page)

“Assuming they haven’t been there already.”

“Yeah, assuming that.”

She leaned back too. “I’m sorry you’re stuck with me,” she apologized softly. “I know you’d rather be with your team backing up Sullivan.”

“Nothing is more important than keeping you safe.” He was silent for a moment. “You’re not being distant and formal with me anymore. Does this mean we’re friends again?”

“We’ve always been friends,” Kendall told him.

Wyatt sighed. “You know what I’m asking.”

Yes, she did. Grudgingly, unwillingly, she said, “I’m sorry I accused you of confusing me with Zolianna. It isn’t true, I know that. I just needed time to remember.”

“I’m glad you figured it out. You really are nothing like her. If you were, you’d have abdicated this whole mess to security the instant you suspected something.” Wyatt turned his head to look at her. His face was unreadable, and his eyes glittered with an emotion she couldn’t name. “But Kendall, you have a quiet strength that awes me at times. When you feel you have to do something, you do it. No announcements, no hesitation. You charge forward, ready for battle.”

“I’m not sure you’re complimenting me.”

“It is a compliment, but I swear to God, you’ve taken years off my life since I’ve known you. Why can’t you ask for help?”

“Because no one has ever been around who I could ask.” She bit her lip. Damn, that was too revealing.

“Me. You can ask me.”

She’d known that she could go to Wyatt for anything, and it scared her to think how easily she could begin to rely on him. She’d always been alone. Always. At first, when she’d been a child, she’d allowed herself to turn to the parade of uncles for support, but they’d never been around long. Until she’d learned that she could only depend on herself, their departures felt as if she’d had the rug pulled out from under her time after time. Her mother had never been there for her. She was too busy searching for her true soul mate, the next relationship that would give her excitement and make her heart flutter—

Kendall stopped short as realization dawned. Why had she never seen this before? Her mom had constantly been looking for fireworks, but that was sexual attraction, not love. Sure, the two went together, and should go together, but when the heat wore off, there had to be more there. Her mom had never taken the time to build that base. Kendall already had it.

Wyatt was her best friend, and when the fire between them was banked, he’d still be her best friend. But he’d be more too. Or he could be if she were brave enough to reach out.

He said he loved her.
Her,
not Zolianna. And although it scared her, she believed him. He’d told her to remember their time together, to realize that he hadn’t simply looked at her once and fallen in love, that they’d taken it step by step. What he meant was that they’d carefully created a foundation between them, one firmly anchored in
this
life, in who they were now. They had a solid footing on which to build if they wanted.

But what if it ended? So many couples broke up, and they weren’t on good terms after that happened.

Kendall gulped. It might be too late anyway. Could they go back to being nothing more than friends after what they’d already shared with each other? She swore she could still feel Wyatt deep inside her, and she wanted him again so badly she ached.

She couldn’t think about this, not now. Not with him sitting right beside her. It would be too easy to let desire sway her actions, too easy to turn to him, to kiss him. Too easy to go further, and forget that while she still wasn’t sure about things between them, Wyatt was. If she touched him, he’d read more into it than she meant, and he deserved better than that.

It was definitely safer to focus on the obelisks.

“Too bad Major Brody has night duty. I hate to think of the colonel taking on those smugglers alone.”

Wyatt looked at her and sighed. “Nothing might be happening, you know that.”

“True,” she conceded. But it was strange. Brody was loosely connected with one of the archeological teams. Like some kind of consultant, she’d been told. Although she’d done some investigating, she hadn’t been able to figure out what, exactly, he was doing. If she was scorned with an undergraduate degree in anthropology, his degree in history should absolutely leave him excluded. Yet it hadn’t.

Wait a second. The social scientists kept regular day shift hours. None of them willingly worked at night, not without it being a huge production. “Sullivan said that McNamara assigned the major to night duty a few days ago, right?”

“Yeah, so?”

“That means it began shortly after we were sealed in the temple, shortly after I heard Dr. George assign his two henchmen to steal the stones. The archeologists don’t work at night, not without a lot of bitching, and Brody is supposed to be working with them, so why would he be put on nights?”

“Aw, geez.” Wyatt groaned and closed his eyes. “Darlin’, please tell me you’re not saying that you think the colonel is the head of the smuggling ring.”

“It makes sense,” she told him. “McNamara is the one person who gives orders that George the Jerk always listens to.”

He turned and looked at her. “She’s the post commander; why would she do it?”

“Are any of us overpaid?”

Wyatt got up, and this time, he was the one who paced. “Sullivan is going to go berserk when you tell him this. He and McNamara have never gotten along, and if he investigates her, there are going to be accusations that he’s on some vendetta.”

Sullivan? Berserk? Kendall shook her head, unable to imagine it. “I hope I’m wrong about the colonel; I respect her. She’s had to work hard to get where she is because she didn’t go to the Point. You know the army likes to put their ring knockers in positions of power, and McNamara went to OCS.”

“There are plenty of people in high places who came in through Officer Candidate School,” Wyatt argued. “And for God’s sake, don’t say ring knockers in front of Sullivan. He attended West Point.”

Kendall couldn’t stop a smile. “I know, Wy. Don’t worry, I only used the term because I’m talking with you.”

He shook his head and kept pacing. When Kendall had first been told to report to J Nine and Colonel McNamara, she’d done some research, and a stray memory was teasing her brain. She frowned as she tried to grab it. Then it came to her, and with a gasp, she jumped to her feet. “We have to get to the transport!”

She knew Wyatt would be pissed, but she ran out of the house anyway. He caught up with her before she’d made it fifty feet, and she twisted out of his reach when he made a grab for her arm.

“Damn it, Kendall, what the hell are you doing? You know we’re being hunted, and you’re too smart not to realize that bolting out of the fu—fricking house this way is stupid.”

“If you think I’m sitting there doing nothing while the thieves loot the Old City one last time, you better think again.”

Wyatt actually growled before he said, “Start explaining.”

“The thieves probably already have most of the artifacts stowed on the transport. You know, the ones we saw in the hidden room before they used the popper,” Kendall added. “Now they know the gig is up, or at least they have a good idea.”

“How do you figure that?”

“The men we left unconscious outside the temple must have come to by now, and you can bet they mentioned that we’re loose. The big shots have to realize we’ve reported what’s going on. But if they can make it to the transport, and return to Earth, they’ll probably get away. It’s easy for this type of vehicle to evade an intercept mission; they could land and disappear long before anyone found the transport.”

“Yeah, but someone would have to know how to fly that thing. It’s not like anyone could just sit down and figure it out.”

Kendall turned her head so she could meet Wyatt’s eyes. “Colonel McNamara started her career as a transport pilot.”

Chapter Twenty-Two

Stacey watched both Damon and Alex come to a screeching halt, and despite the grip the goon had on her, she tried to peer over to learn why. When she saw the gun pointed at Cam’s head, she gasped. Drawing more energy from J Nine, she tried again to wrap the protective field around her godson, but even though Alex worked with her, they still couldn’t do it.

There were no guarantees that the shield would stop a bullet anyhow. They’d never tested it out against conventional Western Alliance weapons.

“Here’s how we’re going to play it,” the thief holding Cam said. “I’m going to walk out of here with this kid, and if you want to keep him alive, no one will stop me. Got it?”

“Leaving here,” Sullivan said, voice reasonable, “gains you nothing. Where can you go? Even if you make it outside the city walls, do you plan to spend the rest of your life alone in the planet’s wilderness?”

The thug ignored Alex. “We’ll shift positions slowly. The two of you on this side, and me and my partner by the door. Then we’ll leave. You’ll stay here for no less than half an hour; after that, you can do what you want.”

“What about the woman and the boy?” Sullivan asked.

While the first thief was talking, the one who’d grabbed Stacey had slackened his hold. Not a great deal, but she suspected if she wanted to, she’d be able to get herself free. With the guy holding a gun on Cam, though, she couldn’t do anything without endangering him.

“When we’re safe, we’ll turn them loose,” the hood said.

“There’s no way in hell you’re taking my son out of here,” Damon snarled.

Cam struggled then—and went still with a whimper as the creep tightened his hold on him. Damon looked murderous, but he didn’t move and he remained silent.

The standoff couldn’t last indefinitely, and as these jerks became more desperate, there was no telling what might happen. If only she and Sullivan had the telepathic link that Ravyn had with her husband, then she’d be able to ask him how she could help. Or if Ravyn were here and conscious, she and Damon could do their thing. Stacey grimaced. While she was wishing, why didn’t she just dream the whole night had never happened?

“Let’s try this again,” the lead thug said. “I’m going to move over there with my partner, and you’re going to stay out of my way and be statue-still, got it?”

“No,” Damon said without elaboration.

“I’m the one in control. If you want your kid to stay healthy, you get the fuck out of my way.”

“I said this to your buddy,” Alex told the thief, “and now I’ll say it to you—you kill that boy, you lose your shield. The instant you’re unprotected, you’re dead. Simple as that.”

Stacey tried to keep her breathing deep and regular. She wanted to seem calm. What would the guy do since Alex and Damon had left him no options? She had to trust they knew what they were doing, but in her experience, when you cornered an animal, it attacked.

Something had to give, and it was Damon who knocked over the house of cards. “Where’s Ravyn?” he asked.

“Mommy!” Stacey saw Cam’s lip wobble, but he firmed it before he cried.

Damon took a step forward, the hand not holding his pistol clenched at his side, but he stopped short when the thug pressed the gun firmly against Cam’s temple.

Someone was drawing energy from Jarved Nine, and Stacey tensed.

Then music blared. Lights flashed.

She jerked in reaction, and so did the man restraining her. The thief using Cam as a hostage took the gun away from the boy’s head and pointed it toward the room as he searched, looking for whoever was playing with the lights.

Damon and Alex launched themselves toward the head creep, and Stacey used the distraction to slide her hand between her throat and her thug’s arm. Bending forward, she brought her elbow back hard into his stomach.

Immediately, she turned and chopped her fist down on his arm. The gun fell to the floor, and she kicked it away.

Her captor made a run for the door, but Stacey didn’t attempt to stop him. Instead, she turned the other direction, ready to help save her godson. She laughed shakily when she saw things were under control. Alex had the thug face down on the floor, and Damon had his son wrapped securely in his arms. She walked over to them.

“Creating that diversion was smart thinking,” Alex told her.

“I didn’t do anything.”

“It was Cam,” Damon said, raising his head from his son’s. “Instead of crying when he was a baby and he needed us, he’d play with the lights or the entertainment system. Ravyn had to—” He stopped short. “Where is she?”

Before Stacey could answer, Damon thrust Cam at her and put both of them behind his back as he aimed his gun at the archway where the thief had disappeared. Only then did she see movement.

“You officers misplace this guy?” a blond man dressed in combat gear asked as he entered the room. He was dragging her goon by the arm. Five other men, all similarly dressed, came in behind him.

Stacey didn’t relax until Damon lowered his weapon. “Thanks, Chief,” he said. “That one got away from us.”

“Any more bogeys or did we miss all the fun?”

Alex and Damon both looked at her. “I only saw two,” Stacey said, and stroked her hand over Cam’s dark hair.

“Mommy’s hurt,” the boy piped up.

Damon’s whole body went tense. Holstering his gun, he demanded, “Where’s Ravyn?”

“In your sitting room, but...” Stacey let her voice trail off. Damon was off like a shot. Before she could tighten her hold on him, Cam wriggled and dropped to the floor. He was almost as fast as his father when he headed down the hall.

One of the men broke off from the group and handed Alex a set of restraints. After securing the goon’s wrists behind his back, Sullivan hauled him to his feet, then handed him off to the soldier. Once he was free, Alex stood next to her, putting his arm around her shoulders as he gave orders. She nearly let herself rest against his side, but stopped in time. Maybe she wasn’t strong enough to step away from his hold completely, but she wasn’t going to lean on him either.

Damon strode back into the room, face ashen, and Stacey saw he had Ravyn slung over one shoulder in a fireman’s carry. Cam was tucked securely against his left side.