Riding the Storm (40 page)

No
doubt. Jason, the Special Ops director, seemed to have his fingers in all pies.
Akbar, the Rare Special Operatives department head, probably did too, though he
was much more subtle about it.

Dev
didn't wait for her to reply, simply slipped away like a ghost.

The
cute doctor entered and handed her an ice pack and a bottle of pills.
"Take one every four hours for the pain. They'll help you sleep."

"Great.
Thanks." She snatched the pills and escaped as fast as her stiff body
would carry her. On her way out, she dumped the bottle into a garbage can. She
didn't need painkillers and the deep sleep they brought. Not when she wanted to
be clearheaded when Remy came to see her.

She
needed to feel him inside her, his strong hands on her, his mouth consuming her
until they were both reduced to one soul, like what had happened when Itor had
them. And she needed to tell him how much she loved him, because although she
hoped he'd felt her love during the mind-sex—assuming the experience had even
been real—she hadn't spoken it out loud. He deserved the truth, and hopefully
he still felt the same way.

Dev
slept restlessly that night—tossed and turned and even took a cold shower at
one point to keep the ghosts at bay.

It
didn't work. He was calling for his car by four in the morning, was in his
office working fifteen minutes later. Pouring over lists of ACRO employees,
putting his focus on operatives with Special Abilities and wondering how the
hell a mole could be working at ACRO and he couldn't sniff out that person.

He
ran his hands through his hair and sighed deeply. There was someone he could
call to help, but he wasn't ready for that. He might never be ready, not unless
the agency was in major danger. And there was still a lot more that Dev himself
could—and would—do to stop this from cycling out of control.

He
jerked his hands out of his hair as the familiar burst of energy traveled over
his skin—it was a light touch because there was a wall between them, but he
knew that Creed had come home.

Creed
could handle this one with him.

"Devlin,
Creed is here to see you." Marlena knew Dev had been waiting for the ghost
translator to return from his old family mansion.

"Send
him right in," Dev said, sat back in his chair and waited until he heard
the door open and again felt the energy that Creed always sent out, stronger
now. Creed didn't even realize he did it—and it wasn't an unpleasant feeling,
more like tiny prickles on the skin.

Creed
being Creed, he cut right to the chase. "What's happening, Dev?"

Dev
didn't need to use his second sight to see that Creed was shaken—he could hear
it in the man's voice.

"Are
you all right? You're not hurt, are you?" Dev asked.

"I'm
fine, man. But you're not going to be."

Dev
nodded. He knew that—now he just needed a way to reassure Creed. "I can
take care of myself. You know that. Now, can you tell me what you've
learned?"

"There's
a traitor here, Dev. At ACRO," Creed said. "But you knew that
already."

Dev
nodded slowly. "I suspected. I just needed confirmation."

"Well,
I would've liked some additional information, but I couldn't risk staying
there. That thing wants out, and badly. If I'd stayed…

"No,
you did the right thing. Does Annika know?"

"She
left right before the spirit decided to start talking."

"Then
let's keep it between us," Dev said, knowing he could count on Creed for
that.

"The
weather guy's here?" Creed asked, and Dev nodded.

"He's
here. Hasn't signed on yet, but I think he will. He seems to have made the
mistake of falling in love," Dev said, and wished he didn't sound so
cynical. But a night of sex always brought that out in him.

Creed
snorted in response, like he understood. And maybe he did, on some level, since
the spirit that seemed to live as part of him interfered with the man's love
life quite a bit.

"Is
Annika back?" Creed asked finally.

"Yes—came
went back, and out on assignment again."

"You
don't give her a break, do you?" Creed asked, and Dev got a particularly
sharp shock from Creed. He wondered for just a second if Creed knew about the
electricity he gave off, or if the man had been taking lessons from Annika. But
Annika wanted nothing to do with Creed, so sharing tips didn't seem possible.

Dev
laughed. "She asked to go out again. Don't tell me you miss her. I never
figured you for the sentimental type. She's not exactly one herself."

"I
know more about her than you think," Creed said, and Dev briefly wondered
what that was supposed to mean. "What do you want me to do now?"

"I'll
let you know. For now, I want you to stick close to home," Dev said.
"We're both going to have to stick a little closer to home."

It
was Wyatt who ended up dropping Remy over at Haley's house the next evening.

After
a restless night and one full day in a comfortably furnished guest house that
was double the size of his place on the Bayou, and a few thunder and lightning
storms that he was pretty sure he was behind, especially when he woke up after
a particularly vivid dream about Haley, Remy got a visit from the former SEAL.

"She
woke up last night—she's sore and she's hoarse, but from what Dev says, she's
going to be fine," Wyatt told him before Remy got in the car. "She
refused to stay overnight for observation."

"Stubborn,"
Remy muttered.

"Yeah,
kind of reminds me of someone." Wyatt still wore the sunglasses from
yesterday, had a blue bandanna wrapped around his head and now he blasted AC/DC
from the car stereo, so they both had to yell to be heard as he turned a corner
that led down a long, curved dirt road. "I never thanked you for saving my
ass."

"You
saved Haley—consider us even."

"
You
saved Haley. Now you have to decide if it's time to save yourself."

Remy
nodded. "You're sure this place doesn't use cages, torture…

"Only
for the bad guys, Remy. Only for the bad guys." Wyatt jerked the car to a
stop in front of a house. "I'm guessing I shouldn't bother to wait for
you."

"If
things don't go well, I'll find my way back," Remy said, climbing out of
the vehicle.

Wyatt
nodded, and with a wave barreled back down the road, singing "Back in
Black" at the top of his lungs.

Remy
walked across the wide-planked porch, past the swing-seat and the potted
plants, and knocked on the door, wishing he weren't so nervous, that he'd
brought flowers or something she might like. He heard thunder rumble overhead
and made a point of trying to control his nerves before she opened the door.

He
didn't have to wait long, and was greeted by a smiling woman with the hint of
black eyes and the sharp breaths of someone whose ribs had been hurt.

He
knew the feeling.

"Hey,"
he said, because all he really wanted to do was grab her and kiss her, open the
white button-down shirt she wore and slide off her khakis, but figured that
talking first was probably the way to go.

"Hey
yourself," she said, holding the screen door open for him. "Come
inside."

"You
should be lying down. Resting," he said.

"There's
no one else to answer the door. Besides, I knew you'd be coming."

Her
house was big—open and airy and casual. A place he wouldn't mind spending more
time in. She'd led him through the foyer into a sunroom toward the back of the
house and now they sat together on the couch, turned in to face one another.
And all Remy wanted to do was kiss her, but he reined himself in.

"Nice
place," he said. "Did ACRO find it for you?"

"They
did. They've been really good to me," she said. "You met Dev, didn't
you?"

"I
did. He's who he seems, isn't he?"

"Nothing
fake about him," she agreed.

"I've
been really worried. That's why I stayed here—at ACRO. So I could make sure you
were all right."

"I'm
glad you did." She paused. "I kind of figured, since there were a few
unexplained thunderstorms in the area."

"Yeah,
well, you know how that goes."

"You
know, ACRO could probably help you get to the bottom of what's going on with
you—why your pull with Mother Nature is so strong," she said, but he'd
already started shaking his head.

"That's
not what I'm after."

"Don't
you want to know how you can do what you can do?"

"What's
the point of knowing the how, Haley? I know I didn't get this power because of
a spider bite or because I faced my fear of bats to fight evil in the world.
I'm not a comic book character. I'm real—and I don't care if I got these powers
because I was born in a hurricane or because Mother Nature picked me out as
special. All I know is that ever since I've met you, everything is better. I'm
calmer, more in control, even when I'm not right next to you. That has to mean
more than any explanation ACRO could ever come up with."

"I
guess I can understand that. For the record, I've never seen you as anything
but a man."

"Well,
that's good," he said, and she smiled again and the urge to kiss her got
stronger.

"Are
you going to join ACRO?" she asked.

"I
needed to talk to you first. About joining. About us."

"Don't
join just for me," she said quickly. "I want you to make that
decision for you. I want you to be happy."

"And
I want to make sure you stay safe, no matter what happens to me. No matter what
decisions I make. First I need to make sure that I won't dreaming about the way
I can keep you safe and still remain in control," he said. "I mean,
when I was captured in that barn, we had sex. Mind-sex. Unless the drugs they
gave me were really powerful…

"You
felt it too?" she whispered, reaching out to touch his cheek.

"
Felt
being the key word. I was inside you, Haley. You helped me through the
storm."

"It
was amazing. I was right there with you," she said, and automatically put
her hand on the hip where her tattoo was. His own tattoo had begun to tingle
the second he'd walked through the door.

"What
does this mean? I know in the car you said that you couldn't let this happen.
But I could've sworn, in that barn, I heard you say…

"I
love you, Remy."

"Yeah,
that's what you said."

She
laughed, a wonderful sound. "I know that's what I said. And I meant it. I
love you."

"You
love me," he repeated.

"Yes."

"You
look like hell," he said.

"You
sure know how to sweet-talk a woman."

He
drew her close, his touch gentle but firm. "Damn straight I know how to
sweet-talk you,
chere
. I know what you like, know all the spots that
make you cry out my name when I touch them," he murmured against her neck.

"Then
do it," she whispered.

"No
way,
bebe
. Not until you're fully healed."

"I
can't wait that long to have you inside me, Remy. I won't break."

"No,
I guess you won't." He captured her mouth in a long, deep kiss that told
him her words were the real deal. "And now you need to lie down," he
said, picking her up carefully and walking her in the direction of the stairs.

"My
bedroom's—"

"I
can find your bedroom," he said, and got to the top of the stairs and
headed instinctively toward the room that would have the best unobstructed view
of the night sky. When he nudged the door open with his foot, he was greeted to
a picture window overlooking the lake, and a bolt of ground lightning.

"That
was you, wasn't it?" she asked.

"All
me," he agreed, and laid her gently on the bed. "Now, you just let me
do all the work."

She
put her arms to the side. "You won't get any arguments from me."

"Good,"
he said, and then he kissed her. Her mouth was warm, tasted wonderful—like
sweet wine and sunshine, and fuck, he was never going to be able to get enough
of her. Never.

His
tongue played against hers while his hands skimmed along the outside of her
shirt, moved along the curve of her breast until he couldn't stand it anymore.

One
button at a time, he opened her shirt, kissed his way down the exposed path as
he pushed the fabric aside and then unhooked her bra. He paused for a second to
growl at the dark purple bruises near her ribs.

"It's
not that bad," she said as she guided his head to her breast—letting him
know that even when he was in charge, she was really the one running the show.

He
didn't mind a bit, loved the way her mouth curved when he bent and scraped his
rough cheek across her nipple before he took it in between his teeth.