Omega Force 01- Storm Force (18 page)

The color
drained from Archer’s face. “It’s Adam?”

Kell nodded. “Let’s go outside and talk.”

“No.”
Archer’s jaw clenched. “Just tell us.”

Kell filled them in on the rest of Gadget’s report,
including Adam’s death. Archer propped his elbows on his knees and stared at
the floor. When he raised his head again, his eyes had gone a more brilliant
green, with elongated pupils. Holy shit. Nik’s apartment wasn’t set up for a three hundred–pound
cat.

Robin
rubbed his arm. “Let me take you to the airport. You want to go to New
Orleans?”

“No.”
Archer looked at Kell. “I’m going to kill Michael
Benedict. You with me?”

Kell had just been thinking the same thing, and when he
turned, he saw the same resolve on Nik’s face.

“Time to plan another mission. This one’s full black.”

Mori wanted to sleep, but
the night of talking had left her restless about her future and haunted by her
past. In a way, she was relieved to have everything out there. The whole ugly truth, with no more lies. But relief only
went so far. Unloading hadn’t changed anything; it had only endangered more
people.

And then the news about Archer’s brother…Logic told Mori
she wasn’t responsible for what Michael’s people had done or the fact that he’d
been power hungry enough to try a hit in New Orleans. But her heart ached to
see the funny, full-of-life Archer closing himself off, his eyes dull and empty
when Kell finally ordered him to leave. He was in no
shape to continue the job, much less go after Michael.

Nik had deposited him at the airport two hours later, where
he’d be making the short flight to New Orleans to claim his brother’s body and
then the long trip to the family’s homeplace in
Tennessee to say good-bye.

Mori shifted on the bed, careful not to jostle Kell. He’d been restless in his sleep, but had finally settled
down a couple of hours ago, his breathing steady.

Nik had insisted that the “walking wounded,” as he called
them, take his bed while he slept in the recliner. He’d at least meet her gaze
now, but still took care not to get too close. She hadn’t figured him out, although
she couldn’t blame him for hating her. She’d dragged Kell
into her mess, however inadvertent it had been.

Inadvertent
.
That was a loaded word, wasn’t it? Mori hadn’t meant any of this to happen, yet
her defiance of Michael had set it in motion. Would he have bombed the Zemurray Building if she’d gone to him before her birthday?
If she hadn’t spent the last few years openly avoiding him?
Would all those people still be alive, all those families
intact? Might Kell and his team be off on a less
dangerous mission, facing the kind of terrorists they were actually trained to
stop?

“You OK?” Kell’s voice, slurred
with half-finished sleep, startled Mori out of the quicksand of her own
what-ifs.

She turned to face him and propped on an elbow. The
scratches on his face had scabbed and would probably not scar, unlike his right
shoulder. But at least he hadn’t bled through the last bandage Nik had used to cover the gouges last night. “My back’s
healing fast now, which is more than I can say for you, Marine.” She kept her
voice soft, all too aware that, somewhere beyond the partitions, Nik and Robin might be sleeping. Or
listening.

Kell didn’t return the humor.
“I wasn’t talking about your back.”

Her smile faded. She wasn’t sure her spirit would ever
heal, but getting Kell and his friends away from this
mess would be a good first step. “I’ve been thinking about something, and I
want you to hear me out.”

He arched an eyebrow. “I already don’t like it.”

She ran a finger along the side of his face, tracing the
line of his cheekbone, moving in to brush sensitive fingertips across his lips,
feel the scratch of bristly stubble on his strong jawline.
She wanted to remember the feel of him, the depth of his eyes, even the little
lines that formed on the inner edge of his brows when he frowned — as he was
doing now.

“The answer is no.”

“I haven’t
said anything yet.”

The frown
lines grew deeper. “I know what you’re going to say, and it’s not happening.
You’re not going to run from this.”

Mori settled onto her side, her hand tracing the
indentation of his breastbone. She wanted to touch him as long as she could,
both to make herself believe he was really here and alive, and to have that
tactile memory to carry with her. “I have to leave, and you know it. You can’t
arrest Michael without exposing what he is. What I am. Robin. Archer. All of us. The world isn’t ready to know about us. The only
way I can have any kind of life is to go somewhere no one can find me — not even
you, as much as that hurts.”

It took him two tries, but Kell
finally rolled onto his side, facing Mori. He drew her closer to him. “Listen
to me. First, I don’t know what the future holds for us, but I’m not letting
you walk out of my life.” He brushed Mori’s hair away from her face and touched
his forehead to hers for a moment before pulling back. “Look me in the eye when
I say this, and see that I mean it. Michael has to answer for what he’s done,
and you have to let my team do its job.”

He didn’t get it. “But—”

“This isn’t
just about us, Mori, or even about you. It never was. Michael stepped over a
line. Hell, he trampled a lot of lines. Whether he set off those bombs to get
control over you, or the governor, or the industrial expansion plans, people
died. He’s gotta pay for that.”

A chill ran through her. She’d heard him promise Archer
that Michael would pay, but they still thought of this as a regular mission, or
job, or whatever they called it in his world. “Kell,
you have to be realistic. Robin is shifter strong, but not Dire strong. And as
good as you and Nik are, you can’t handle Michael
Benedict. Do you know anything about Dires?”

She watched his face as his ego flared, then got doused
by practicality and curiosity. “Tell me.”

“When you think of a big wolf, it’s the gray wolf.” She slid her hand down his stomach and traced her fingers along
the ridge at the top of his hip bone. The soft thud of his heartbeat sped.

“They might weigh a hundred pounds and grow bigger than a
German shepherd, right? They’re powerful. For a Dire, you can easily double
that size and weight. You can’t think about him like a regular man, or even a
regular shifter. You can’t beat him.”

“With your help, we could.” Kell
leaned in and touched his lips to hers. “It’s time for you to fight for your
life, Mori. Not to run, but to make a stand. And we can help you.”

Mori had rested her hand on his side, and under her
fingers, the muscles in his lower back spasmed. Kell rolled onto his back again with an involuntary groan,
pulling her into the cocoon of his arm, her cheek resting on his undamaged
shoulder. It was hard not to believe him when they were here like this, alone.
Well, sort of alone. A flicker of hope ignited in her chest.

With her
help, maybe they could fight Michael. The beta Dire who’d ascend in Michael’s
position was a no-nonsense attorney. He’d never go after Michael himself, but
he wouldn’t step in to help the man, either, especially if it put him in
control.

Kell’s cell phone vibrated from his pocket, tickling Mori’s
leg. She moved aside to let him grab it and look at the screen.

“Fuck. It’s
the colonel.”

Last night,
after their blackout meeting, or whatever he’d called it, Kell
had moved into a far corner of the loft, a space Nik
called his office. He’d stayed on the phone with his boss for more than an hour
while Nik took Archer to the airport. Robin and Mori
had been left to watch hurricane updates and try not to eavesdrop.

At least,
Mori had been trying. Robin openly craned her neck and moved from one chair to
another in an attempt to hear more.

The first
part of the conversation had mostly been talking on Kell’s
part. “He’s cleaning things up for the Colonel,” Robin had whispered. “Left out the whole bit about the sex and the handcuffs.”

Heat spread
across Mori’s face, which made Robin cackle. She sounded more like a chicken
than an eagle, although Mori didn’t share that observation.

The last
half of the conversation didn’t go so well, she suspected, because most of Kell’s end of the call had been filled with “Yes, sirs” and
“No, sirs” and “I’m sorry, sirs” and “Won’t happen again, sirs.”

When he’d finally emerged from the office, his face
looked pale and drained of energy.

“Well, that
went well.” He’d shaken at least four ibuprofen out of
the giant bottle on Nik’s counter, washed them down
with the last of Archer’s leftover soda, and collapsed in the recliner with his
eyes closed until Nik returned from the airport. Only
then had he told them the colonel had ordered them to stay put until morning.

Guess it was officially morning, even though the clock on
the bedside table read only 4:35 a.m.

Mori got up and padded into the living room area to give Kell privacy. She was surprised to see Nik
sitting at the small dining table with a coffee cup in front of him, writing on
some type of pad or tablet. Robin remained curled up on the sofa, wrapped in a
blanket so tightly only a few spikes of auburn hair poked out.

“Cups are in the cabinet over the sink. Coffee’s next to
the fridge.” Nik never looked up.

Mori poured herself a cup of coffee and sat across from
him. He wasn’t writing, as she’d originally thought, but seemed to be drawing
on what she could now tell was a sketch pad.

He glanced up, his pen hovering
a couple of inches above the paper. “Do I hear Kell
talking?”

“The colonel just called.” She sipped the coffee, which
had a hint of hazelnut and wafted a warm, slightly sweet aroma she found
calming. “I wanted to give him some privacy.”

Nik stared at her a moment, and she wondered what was behind those wary,
assessing eyes. He finally shoved the pad across the table at her. “Look
familiar?”

A chill stole across Mori’s shoulder blades. The artistry
was professional, but it was the subject that startled her. A wolf, its
markings detailed and familiar, stood as viewed from the side, its neck arched
and head raised, mouth open in a howl. In the middle of its back was a mark,
etched in dark, jagged ink — the letter “B.”

“It’s me,” Mori whispered, the moment coming back to her
in more detail than she’d remembered thus far. “Right after he did it.” No, she
might as well call
it
what it was. “When he branded me. Shifting was the last thing I remember
before I woke up in that attic feeling like I was still on fire.” She looked up
at Nik. “How could you know?”

“It’s one of the things I saw when I touched you in the
attic yesterday.” He took a sip of his coffee and grimaced. “Cold.”
Pushing his chair back, he got up and poured the coffee down the sink, then
reached into a lower cabinet and pulled out a bottle of bourbon — Black Jack, the
same brand Gus Chastaine used to drink. He poured a
generous amount in the coffee cup and returned to the table.

“You’re psychic?” Mori looked at the drawing again. Even
the unique markings of her wolf’s coat, different to every individual, were
accurate. “No wonder you hated me as soon as you touched me.” She didn’t know
whether to be embarrassed or relieved.

Nik set
the cup on the table with a sigh, and Mori noticed for the first time the dark
smudges beneath his eyes. The man didn’t look like he’d slept in a month. “I
don’t hate you. I hate that Kell got in so deep
without knowing the truth.” He finally looked her in the eye. “I also don’t
hate you because I saw that his feelings aren’t one-sided. You really care
about him. But he’s my first priority. If it comes down to it and we can save
you, good. But Kell comes first.”

Mori smiled, earning a look of
surprise from Nik. “Good. Because the last thing I
want is for him to get hurt because of me.” But he already had, hadn’t he? “Hurt
again
.”

“Then we understand each other.”

She nodded. “He’s lucky to have you.”

Nik looked down into his
bourbon-filled coffee cup and pushed it aside. “Goes both
ways.”

Mori closed the sketch pad and slid it back across the
table. They sat in silence until they heard a hiss from the direction of the
sofa.

“Touching scene, you two. And noisy.
I haven’t been able to hear a thing Kell was saying.”

Robin had sat up, still cocooned in her blanket, and her
faux outrage leached some of the tension from the room. By the time Kell joined them a few seconds later,
Mori thought they were all at least giving off the appearance of being relaxed.

“OK, the colonel’s got a plan. He’s not taking discussion
on it, and we’ve pushed him about as far as we can, so don’t even start with
me.” Kell rummaged in the refrigerator and pulled out
a carton of orange juice. He brought the whole carton to the table, taking the
chair between Mori and Nik.

Robin joined them, taking the fourth chair. “That doesn’t
sound good. What’s his bright idea?”

Kell took a swig of juice from
the carton, earning an eye roll from Robin and a faint smile from Nik. Mori suspected he’d forgone the glass just to get a
reaction from them. “Nik, he wants you in New Orleans
ASAP, to help Gadget. In case Benedict accelerates his plans, we need to get
the trade center offices swept as well as the hotel that’s hosting the
visitors. You might also be able to touch a few things and find the guys who
killed Adam. We don’t know if they’re human or not.”

Nik’s dark eyes flashed with
anger. “And you and Robin will be doing what? 
I need to be here.”

Kell shook his head. “Colonel
wants Robin to take Mori to Cote Blanche today. Again, ASAP.
I’ll be trying to negotiate with Benedict.”

Nik and Robin protested loudly,
but Mori couldn’t even put her horror into coherent words. This was the most
boneheaded plan conceivable. The colonel obviously didn’t understand who and
what he was dealing with, or he wouldn’t consider sending Kell
in there alone. It’s exactly what Michael wanted. He’d kill Kell
without a hint of hesitation — unless it was to torture him first and then kill
him.

“Shut it.” Kell raised his
voice, sounding a whole lot like a soldier all of a sudden. Mori had never
thought to ask what his rank had been in the Army, but she’d lay odds he wasn’t
a private.

“Consider these direct orders — from the colonel and from
me. Nik, I need you on the next plane out. Gadget can
use your particular skills. I don’t need to remind you what happened at Zemurray. We can’t have a repeat in New Orleans, and you
might be able to touch the stuff Adam uncovered and find us someone to question.”