Passionate Vengeance (12 page)

Hauling an arm under his shoulder and grunting with the exertion, Lucas got Tristan unsteadily to his feet, almost fully supporting his friend’s weight as Tristan got his bearings.

Smoke continued to fill the room as the fire spread, glass bottles exploding around them. Tristan coughed. Lucas propelled him towards the stairs, pushing him gently to urge him to leave first.

“I’ll get Harper. Go!” Lucas insisted.

Either too dazed or confused to argue, Tristan staggered, clinging to the banister when he made it. Lucas crouched down on his haunches to avoid the worst of the fumes and crossed back into the room to find Harper.

Raising his hands to protect his face from the rapidly growing flames, Lucas was astonished to see Harper busily feeding the fire not only with papers but also test tubes that appeared to be full of blood and glass bottles filled with clear fluids and solvents.

The air reeked of a mixture of scents, formaldehyde and ethanol the most pungent of them. With another
whoosh
the bench truly caught fire, the blaze now running along its length and nearly spanning the width of the whole laboratory.

Harper seemed completely unconcerned by the steadily growing inferno, almost appearing caught up in his own crazy world. Lucas struggled to see a way for him to cross the fire and get to Harper.

He honestly didn’t think he would be able to, and the solvent still clinging to his shirt worried him. Lucas didn’t relish jumping and his clothes igniting, or being seriously burned. He wasn’t certain there was enough open room for him to make it. The fire grew at an astonishing speed and grew before his eyes.

More importantly, Lucas didn’t trust that he wouldn’t catch alight if he did something as stupid as leap through the flames.

 “Harper!” Lucas shouted, coughing as he inhaled a lungful of the grit now filling the air. “Har—” he couldn’t even finish the second time, choking so bad he bent over double, wheezing to catch his breath.

Closing his eyes to stop the small particles from the smoke wafting in the air from scorching him, Lucas heard more glass exploding and the undeniable roar of the fire growing in strength and intensity. Thick, black plumes of smoke now belched from the blaze. The top of the basement and stairs were steadily smothering the room, making it increasingly impossible to see a thing.

“Sloan, forget it,” Tristan called over the sound of the blaze.

The crackles and pop of the flames devouring wood increased in tempo, the fire licking hungrily at everything in its path. Harper’s chuckles had weakened and when Lucas strained his eyes to see the elderly man he couldn’t spot him, though whether Harper had fallen to the floor or was beyond the thick fog Lucas couldn’t tell.

“Sloan!” Tristan called from the staircase.

Lucas crouched and made his way back to the stairs, the heat prickling his skin even through his clothes.

“Sloan! Come on, let’s go!” Tristan screamed from the top of the stairs.

Lucas made it to the base of the staircase. As he reached out to touch the banister he swore and pulled his hand back in a rush. The wood burnt him. Running up the stairs, sweating from the heat and his eyes tearing up from the sting of the smoke, he huffed a laugh when he saw Tristan.

Wobbling he looked like he’d been in a pub brawl. One side of his face already was darkly discoloured, bruised and swollen, the dried blood caking over his skin to form a crust that began at the corner of his mouth. Soot stained his face and he rubbed his neck, clearly stiff and sore.

“You must be getting old,” Lucas said with a laugh.

They hurried through the kitchen.

“You don’t look like you’ve been relaxing at a picnic yourself, Sloan,” Tristan retorted. “You’re covered in soot and look like a scrawny chimney boy.”

“Yeah, well at least I don’t look like I was the loser of a Friday night tiff down at the local pub, mate,” Lucas slung back with a laugh that ended in a cough.

A small explosion rocked the house, the floor moving beneath Lucas’ feet as something blew up in the basement. Lucas and Tristan exchanged glances and ran for the front door.

“Do you think he can make it out?” Lucas huffed. He ripped open the back door.

“No chance,” Tristan insisted as they raced across the back lawn and into the garden next door.

A siren wailed in the distance.

They both ducked down as another small explosion sounded and smoke poured out of the back windows of Dr Harper’s house. Lucas noticed quite a number of people had come out onto the street and instinctively he took a few steps in that direction, wanting to see.

Tristan grabbed him by the arm.

“You look exactly like you’ve been in that fire, mate,” Tristan reminded him. “Might not be a good idea to go and watch with the crowd.”

“Ah, yeah.” Lucas nodded.

They jogged through a half dozen gardens and came out onto the footpath well up the street, walking back to the car with their heads down but not so fast they would attract attention.

Lucas noticed both Kimber and Abigail standing beside their car, Kimber tapping her foot impatiently and Abigail with her arms crossed over her chest. Something deep inside Lucas eased when he saw her.

“There they are,” Abigail said to Kimber as she spotted them.

Kimber raced towards them, but Abigail stood and waited.

Unable to help himself, Lucas turned around quickly and looked back down the street. Smoke poured from the house and the roof appeared as if it were steaming. Flames licked out along the cornices and small booms echoed up and down the street.

A small grin of satisfaction flickered at the corner of Lucas’ mouth. He regretted the fact they hadn’t been able to bring Dr Harper to justice, but he couldn’t deny he felt some small amount of pleasure at the man’s work being destroyed. The sound of sirens was noticeably closer as the two men hurried down the footpath next to Abby and Kimber.

Lucas glanced up and down Abigail’s slender form, making certain she was unharmed.

“I’ll ride with Kimber, you drive Abby,” Tristan spoke as he tossed the car keys.

Lucas caught them easily.

“Meet you back at the office?” Lucas suggested.

Tristan tenderly touched the bruise that was forming on his jaw.

“I want to drop Kimber off at her flat, and then I wouldn’t mind a hot shower and taking care of this.” He indicated his swollen wound. “The paperwork over this will be a nightmare. Let’s meet back in a few hours. Will that be okay?”

“Sure, I can drop Abby off at her place and clean myself up as well.”

Anything further Lucas might have added was cut off as a horn sounded, unmistakably from a fire engine.

“Shit, they’re only a street or two away,” Lucas cursed.

They ran to their respective vehicles. Lucas unlocked the passenger door for Abby before bolting around to slide into the driver’s seat.

A moment later and they’d pulled away, barely managing to turn out of the street before a fire engine entered from the opposite end.

Lucas glanced to Abby, reaching out to take one of her hands in his.

“You all right, darling?” he checked.

“I’m just glad you’re back in one piece,” she replied before she pressed a kiss to the palm of his hand.

He stroked her hair tenderly but needed to focus on the road.

“We’re both exhausted, let’s get to my place first,” Abigail replied, seeming to read his frustration at not being able to act as he wished just now.

“Direct me, love, and I will follow,” Lucas said.

Abby chuckled as they wound their way through the streets.

Chapter Seven

Lucas followed Abigail up a cracked footpath to a small flat. Bunches of flowers grew haphazardly in clumps, giving the area a homey feel. She opened the door with her key, entering the flat with an evident sigh of relief to be home.

He entered the warm dwelling, the place filled with pictures and furniture, the room cramped but not overwhelmingly so.

He paused on the threshold of the main living room, a little worried when Abby continued to the other side of the room before stopping and turning around. Lucas wanted to close the distance between them, but she’d been silent for the last ten minutes except for giving him directions.

A lot had gone on in the last few hours and Lucas wasn’t sure what she thought of it all. He’d grown worried that she was truly upset she’d lost her chance for justice against Harper.

“Abby?” he queried, his heart in his throat.

“Did you set the fire on purpose?” she asked.

Surprised at the question, he shook his head.

“No, darling, Harper set it. He was mad as a hatter. Seemed to think we’d try to steal his work. Or, that was the impression I got as he threw his notes and research into a steadily growing solvent fire. He had a shotgun too. Tristan and I tried to bring him in, but in the end it was beyond us. I swear.”

“I know you did your best,” she answered in a timid voice. “I never doubted that of you.”

Lucas watched while she listlessly plucked at the fabric on one of her couches. He waited, knowing there would be more but not sure exactly what she was getting at. With the air of telling him a great secret she worked up to voicing the words he could see all but bubbling out of her.

“I’d have been tempted to burn it all down myself,” she confessed. “Is he still in there?”

Lucas nodded, though it took him a second to find the right words.

“He got caught in the laboratory. There was no way he could have escaped. I’m so sorry I can’t bring him to justice, like I know I promised you. I swear I tried, though. I went back in for him after I got Tristan to the stairs, but the smoke was too thick and—” He didn’t get to finish his rushed explanation. Abby had crossed the room back to him and flung herself at him. Only his quick reactions allowed him to open his arms in time to wrap them around her slender form.

She clung to him in a manner Lucas could easily get used to, the long tendrils of her soft hair smelling sweet against the stink of smoke in his nostrils. Lucas buried his head in the locks and inhaled her deeply, filling himself with her sweet scent. She squeezed him tightly, her words muffled against his clothes.

“I don’t care in the least about justice, you gave me vengeance instead. I didn’t wish for his death, and I’m not happy for it, but there’s a balance there, for those other poor people whose deaths he caused. I’d have never wanted you to go back into flames of any sort for him, and certainly not because you’d think I’d want it. I don’t ever want you to head into danger for me, okay?”

Lucas held her close.

“But you wanted answers, and I wanted to give them to you.”

“Morrison called and said my blood work was fine,” she explained.

Lucas sighed with relief.

“I’m glad to just put this behind me, to close the door and start a new chapter. Hopefully with you,” she added shyly.

Lucas laughed and cupped her face, tilting her head up to his so he could bend down and plant a long, slow, searching kiss to her lips.

They kissed hungrily, each holding the other as if they would never let go. The kiss deepened and Lucas felt a hunger stir low within him. Something he knew could never thoroughly be assuaged. He moved his hands lower to cup Abby’s round, pert arse.

He lifted her against him, pressing the heat of her crotch into his rapidly growing erection.

Abby’s small hands were hot on him as she threaded her fingers through his hair. Long red strands fell around him in a curtain as her locks closed them in their own little world.

“I struggled to not think of you every moment while I was in there,” he murmured huskily. “Even your memory distracted me madly. I realised in there I could no longer separate you from my every waking thought. I’ve fallen in love with you, Abigail Turner.”

“I think I loved you from the moment you rescued me in my dream,” she confessed in return, her voice a low whisper. “You were my hero then just as you are now. Your armour might be rusted in places, but you’re still a knight, the pure silver of your honour shining through.”

“I have never felt like some conquering hero or brave knight before. I have to be honest, though, when it comes to being your knight the thought appeals immensely. I’ll do my best to never let you down, Abby,” he promised.

The warmth of her smile, the light in those gorgeous eyes and the softness of her face drew him as no one ever had before. He couldn’t believe he’d become so lucky to catch a woman like her. Lucas didn’t ever want to take her for granted or see her hurt like she had been.

“If you hold me like this forever and ever then I doubt you could disappoint me, Lucas. I’d love to stay like this, always.”

“I couldn’t bear it if I didn’t have you to return to,” he whispered.

She sealed their lips together in a devastating kiss and pulled their bodies flush. He ached to be inside her, filling her in every way but at the same time he wanted to do it right.

“Where’s your bedroom, darling?” he asked between searing hot kisses. “I want to do justice to you, want to—”

“I don’t need any of that,” she murmured before suckling on his lower lip.

Lucas groaned as heat shot through his belly and his erection pressed uncomfortably hard against his slacks.

“I just need you,” she insisted. “Only you.”

Lucas lifted her legs up, wrapping them around his waist as he looked around with one eye cracked open. The couch was right there and truth be told he didn’t know if they’d make it to her bed.

He lowered her down slowly, loving the feel of her in his embrace. Lucas pushed Abby back into the soft cushions. They tore each other’s clothes off. In seconds they were both naked—her knickers had been torn and his boxers had lost all three buttons. Lucas couldn’t have cared less, as long, smooth expanses of Abigail’s skin now lay open before him, calling for him to taste her.

Flicking his tongue out along her slender limbs, he tasted her, loving the way she tugged her fingers at his hair in her impatience.

“Fuck me,” she pleaded, sending his blood pressure through the roof. “Right now, hard and hot. Please, Lucas, just fuck me right now.”