Reach For the Spy (12 page)

“I think you’re right.”
I stood up and stretched, and then shook my head at my own idiocy.
Stretch in the real world, dummy.

I shoved the mannequin
aside and headed for the portal. Mannequin. Dummy. Got it. Very
funny.

A board hurtled toward
my head, and I ducked in the nick of time.

Yeah, yeah, subtle as a
two-by-four to the head.

I tried to clear my
mind while I skirted the pink hippopotamus twirling in its tutu and
ballet slippers. Flying pigs fluttered gracefully overhead.

Don’t look up. Don’t
look...

I dodged the plummeting
clumps of pig shit.

“Fuck this,” I
muttered. “
Yikes!
”

I hurriedly folded
sim-space and stepped out the portal to avoid the truly impressive
construct that had been created by my unfortunate choice of
obscenities.

By the time I
straightened, clutching my raging headache, Spider was still
scarlet. Kane’s impassive cop face showed signs of cracking.

“Sorry about that,” I
said. “Next time I’ll be more careful with my language.”

Spider blushed even
more furiously. “No big deal,” he said with a heavy attempt at
nonchalance. He turned away, and I carefully avoided looking at
Kane while I scrubbed my hand over my face to wipe away my
smile.

A few seconds later, I
thought I had it under control. I caught Kane’s eye. An explosive
snicker burst out of me. He quickly turned away, his broad
shoulders quaking with suppressed laughter.

“Bless you,” Spider
said without turning.

“Thanks,” I choked.
“Back in a flash.” I scurried out of the lab and down the hall to
the ladies’ room before I lost it completely. Inside, I propped
myself against the counter and wheezed silent laughter until tears
poured down my cheeks.

It took longer than it
should have to regain my composure. Every time I stopped laughing,
I glanced at my flushed, tear-stained reflection in the mirror and
started all over again. Poor Spider. I really wasn’t laughing at
him. I just couldn’t seem to pull myself together.

Finally the pain in my
sides made me sober up. A few last giggles escaped me while I
dabbed at my eyes and patted cool water on my face. I took some
deep breaths and avoided looking in the mirror as I left the
bathroom.

When I returned to the
lab, Kane’s eyes were still dancing, but his face showed nothing
but his usual calm composure. I managed a straight face with an
effort.

Spider met my eyes and
turned pink all over again. “This document is going to be really
valuable,” he said quickly. “How much more of it is there?”

My urge to laugh
vanished without a trace. “Lots. Probably another five pages.” I
sighed. “I guess I’d better get started.”

“No, I don’t think so,”
Kane countered. His eyes were serious again, too. “You need a rest.
You weren’t controlling the sim at all at the end.”

As he spoke, the weight
of fatigue settled on my shoulders, and I staggered back a step to
drop into my chair. I realized my hands were still trembling, and
my overworked core muscles vibrated finely.

“Okay,” I agreed. My
eyes drifted shut.

“Aydan!”

“What?” I mumbled.

I cracked an eyelid
open when Kane took the network key from my hand and pulled me to
my feet. “Let’s get you upstairs.”

I let him tow me down
the corridor. He half-carried me up the stairs, and I leaned
heavily on him in the time-delay chamber, too exhausted to react to
the cramped space. Then there was another flight of stairs, and a
blessedly soft horizontal surface.

My eyes snapped
open.

Kane halted in the
doorway. “Oh, I didn’t think you were awake.”

I sat up groggily from
the sofa in my office. “Just woke up.” I squinted at my watch.
“Crap! It’s five o’clock!” I stood and stretched, yawning. “I’ll
get back on that document now. If it’s important, I want to get it
done today.”

“It’s not important
enough for you to drive yourself into the ground.”

I read his tone behind
the words. “It’s really important, isn’t it?” I asked.

He sighed. “Yes.”

“Let’s go.”

“Wait.” Kane laid a
restraining hand on my arm as we passed the small employee lounge
at the end of the hall. He ducked into the room and returned
momentarily, carrying a bottle of orange juice and a couple of
cereal bars.

I gazed up him,
touched. “Thanks!” He’d even gotten the brands that I usually
bought.

“You’re welcome.”

I followed him down the
stairs, smiling.

At the entrance to the
secured area, my smile drained from my face while I stood still for
the retinal scan. By the time we reached the bottom of the stairs
my heart was pounding, and I strode forward briskly to hide my
shaking knees.

In the lab, I gulped
down a cereal bar and half the juice before propping myself in the
chair once more.

I stepped into the
white void and determinedly shoved my way through the constricting
bars. They refused to vanish, so I clamped my hands on them and
bent them apart as I stepped through, shoving and kicking my way to
the file room. In the doorway, I braced my hands on my knees,
gasping with exertion.

Stupid. It was just a
sim. I slapped my forehead and held the image of the file room
hard. Guttural laughter growled behind me as I closed the door.

“Aydan, is everything
okay?”

I shook my head
vigorously and picked up the file. “Fine.”

I concentrated fiercely
on the contents of the file, refusing the urge to look around.
After an endless time, I laid the document down. “That’s it.”

The sickening smell of
burning hair filled the room.

“Aydan! Your back’s on
fire!”

I sighed. “Yeah. I
know.” I flopped backward into the convenient plastic wading pool.
A theatrical sizzle and cloud of steam arose. A cartoon coyote
sauntered over and gazed down at me as I lay on my back.

“Yeah, right.”

I didn’t waste any time
folding the sim-space to get to the portal. I really didn’t want to
know what my subconscious mind was planning to serve up this
time.

It took a long time for
the pain to subside. Kane’s strong hands slowly crushed out the
tiny fires at the ends of my nerves while I groaned and
whimpered.

Finally I shut up and
straightened. “Thanks.” I clutched at my head with both hands when
it attempted to float away.

“Here.” Kane handed me
the other cereal bar.

I squinted at my watch.
Eight o’clock. My exhausted brain responded wearily. I peered up at
Kane. “It’s Thursday, isn’t it?”

“Yes.” He returned my
gaze with concern. “You knew that, didn’t you? It was just a
rhetorical question?”

“Yeah. I was just
checking.” I hauled myself out of the chair. “Forget cereal bars.
I’m going over to Eddy’s to get a decent meal and listen to some
blues. Tonight’s open jam. Anybody else interested?”

Kane shook his head
regretfully. “I’d love to, but this document that you just
decrypted is vital. We have to deal with it tonight.”

I goggled at them. “You
mean you guys have to stay here even longer?”

Kane shrugged. “You
know how it goes.”

I shuddered. “You have
my undying respect. But sadly, my loyalty is all used up for
tonight. I’m out of here.”

“Good, because I was
going to order you out anyway,” Kane joked. “Good night. Have a
beer for me.”

“Can’t, I’m
driving.”

We exchanged a shrug,
and I made a beeline for the exit.

Blue Eddy’s was packed
as usual on a Thursday night. I hovered at the edge of the room,
hoping against hope I’d find a vacant table where I could put my
back against the wall.

The musicians were just
finishing a song, and I spotted Hellhound with his beloved guitar
up on stage. A few seconds later, he caught sight of me at the edge
of the crowd. The corner of his mouth quirked up, and he cocked his
chin at my usual table.

I grinned and made my
way over to find his lurid jacket slung over a chair. The slavering
black beast glared up at me from the leather, and I patted it
affectionately as I sat down. I stretched out my legs with a sigh
of pure contentment and let the superb blues music wash over
me.

The waitress hurried
by. “You want your usual?”

“Yeah, thanks,
Darlene.”

“Beer?”

“Love to, but I’m
driving.”

She raised an
understanding shoulder and wove her way back to the bar. As she
punched my order into the computer, Eddy looked up from his
frenetic bartending and tossed me a cheerful wave and a smile.

I moved happily to the
beat, watching Hellhound’s gifted hands on his guitar and shivering
privately at his sexy, raspy voice while he sang.

When my meal arrived, I
tore into the delicious food. As I was finishing, the musicians
took a break.

I watched Hellhound
obliquely while he wandered down from the stage. He took his time
meandering through the crowd, stopping to greet people as he went.
He paused by another table and shook hands with its occupants,
laughing and joking for a few minutes before he turned toward our
table.

When he arrived, he
nodded casually in my direction and swigged from the beer bottle
that had occupied the table when I arrived. His eyes roved over the
crowd, and he tossed a rakish salute across the room when he
apparently spotted someone else he knew. He turned back to me as he
replaced his bottle on the table, and clasped my hand in a friendly
handshake.

“See ya later,” he
rasped, and strode away.

I sipped my drink for a
few moments before I opened my hand. The note was scribbled on a
scrap of paper wrapped around a room key. “Come see my new tattoo.”
I slipped the key into my pocket with a secret smile.

A couple of sets later,
he stepped down from the stage and made his way through the crowd
again. He smiled, picked up his jacket, and disappeared out the
door.

I slouched in my chair
and tried to hide my impatience until the next set began. When the
musicians struck up again, I unhurriedly signalled Darlene for my
bill. A few minutes later, I was on my way.

My hands clenched on
the steering wheel. Dammit, there was only one hotel in town. I
sincerely hoped Bill Harks wouldn’t be working tonight. That was a
confrontation I could do without.

Heart thumping, I
sneaked into the lobby, wishing for invisibility. I sighed relief
at the sight of the young man on duty behind the reception desk,
and hurried across the open space to the stairs. On the second
floor, I tapped on the door to 218 and turned the key.

The door closed behind
me, and I smiled.

Hellhound was
shirtless. The light from the single lamp emphasized his bulky,
tattooed muscles. He pulled me close, his lean musician’s fingers
stroking through my hair as he found my lips. The kiss lingered,
and the touch of his tongue sent heat rolling through me.

I pressed closer and
ran hungry hands down his chest. “What’s this about a new tattoo?”
I mumbled against his lips. “Should I go looking?” I unfastened the
button on his jeans and started to slowly slide the zipper
down.

He chuckled. “Ya can
look down there any time, darlin’. But ya ain’t gonna find my new
ink if ya do.”

“Mmmm.” I trailed my
lips over his chest. “Where should I look?”

“Down an’ to the
left.”

I kissed my way south.
“Am I getting warmer?”

“Aaah... Darlin’...
Yeah... You’re gettin’ warmer for sure. But ya ain’t gettin’ any
closer to this.” He held up his left arm, and I studied the new
artwork on the inside of his bulging bicep.

He leaned down to kiss
me. “D’ya like it?”

I smiled at the shapely
black-clad woman crouched on the footpegs of a black motorcycle,
long red hair billowing behind her. “I like it. I’m flattered. But
I think your tattoo artist got a little carried away with the boob
size.”

“I know what I saw,
darlin’.” He grinned. “I get a hard-on every time I remember ya
ridin’ over that hill.”

I let my hand drift
down. “Well, anything that gives you a hard-on makes me happy.”

He growled and locked
his hands on my ass as he pulled me against him.

“Ow!”

He let go instantly.
“What, Aydan? Are ya okay?” He gazed down at me worriedly.

“Fine, I just caught my
hand on your zipper.” I showed him the small scratch.

He kissed the spot
tenderly. “Sorry, darlin’. I didn’t mean to hurt ya.”

“You didn’t. Didn’t
even break the skin.”

He looked into my face
seriously. “I thought I might’ve hurt ya when I grabbed ya on
Sunday, the way ya yelled out.”

“No, you just startled
me. Definitely didn’t hurt me.” I grinned and linked my arms around
his neck. “Turned me on like a gas barbeque, if you want to know
the truth.”

“Ya always turn on like
a gas barbeque.” He ran strong hands down my back and pulled me
closer.

“Mmmm...” I circled my
hips against him, relishing the feel of the hard bulge in his
jeans. “You must really, really like that tattoo.”

“It ain’t the tattoo
that’s doin’ it for me, darlin’,” he rasped. He leaned down to
growl in my ear. “Want me to play big bad biker for ya tonight? I
bet a big bad biker can make ya come in two minutes or less.”

His hand circled my ass
and slipped between my legs. The heat of his touch burned through
my jeans and set fire to a certain piece of tropical real
estate.

The tropics got hotter
and wetter while his lips and whiskers trailed down my neck. The
contrast of smooth and rough made the small hairs stand up on the
back of my neck. Other things stood to attention, too. Hellhound
grinned as he stroked a thumb over one of my nipples.

I gasped as his fingers
moved dexterously in two places at the same time. “The big bad
biker is definitely on my list of things to do.” I sucked in an
unsteady breath as the exquisite combination threatened to steal my
ability for speech. “But... you know what I really want
tonight?”