Talon: Combat Tracking Team (A Breed Apart) (12 page)

Here. Here he could focus. Could sort out the insanity that had threatened him.

He sat, thought, silently talked—to whom, he didn’t know…He lowered his head, shutting out the chaos. The forces vying for his allegiance. His obedience.

As he had every time before, he whispered, “God, if you’re there…help me.” Desperate. Sloppy. But it was all he had. If he said more, he’d berate himself for talking to someone invisible. Intangible. Unprovable. A god for the weak minded.

That’s what his father had said of his mother’s faith. One of the many
kinder
things he’d said of her and her Christianity.

The comforting rays of sunlight through the stained glass that lined both walls faded and gave way to low-lit sconces. Though his inner self had quieted, he had no answers. For anything. So he stayed. Stared at the likeness of the crucified Christ.

“He was a madman who claimed to be God! Of course they killed him!”

Mary hovering over her son, ethereal and gentle with blue eyes and the Anglo appearance. He’d always smirked at that.

“She was a whore! She got pregnant and lied to cover it up.”

Cardinal hung his head with a dangerous thought lodged in his mind.
No, Father. That was what you did to my mother
.

Crack!
A scream knifed his soul. He clenched his eyes. Blood. She’d bled so much…

A noise…repetitive…

Cardinal peered up at the altar, attention trained on the
click-click
on the stone floor. What…it sounded like…dog’s nails. Here? In a church?

A shape took form at the end of the pew. A feminine form. He turned his head, coming to his feet. Something swirled in his gut as he looked into pure blue eyes. Hair a halo of white. Just like Saint Mary in the stained glass. Or an angel. The thought pinged through him. Amadore had called her that, and here she stood in this church just like one.

She smiled then looked down the aisle toward the altar. Taking it all in.

His heart beat a little heavier. And faster. He wanted to ask how she’d found him. Here, of all places. He shouldn’t ask. It showed weakness. Showed he hadn’t been smart enough with his moves. “How did you find me?”

“Heath knows a general who tracked you down. Heath is engaged to a good friend of the general—actually, one of his former employees.”

He looked down and shook his head. Burnett. The general had sold him out?

“He said you liked churches.” Again, she glanced at the altar. “Cathedrals, in particular.”

It wasn’t forgivable that the general ratted him out, no matter how vague the tip he’d given. The video camera in his head played out a scene where he stormed out of St. Mary’s, shouting into his phone about being sold out. Of him walking away from this.

But that’s why Burnett sent her here. Gave her enough information to find him—so she could corner him. So those blue eyes would peel back the years of hardness. To whittle down what little he had left of his identity. To break him.

Force him to face what he didn’t want to face: That despite his fears, despite his rigid determination not to, Cardinal knew he had to take this gig. He had to help Aspen find her brother.

Since he already knew the answer, maybe the reason he’d come to church was to toss it back in God’s face.

Cardinal focused on the structure of reverence and solace, not on the tumult roiling through him. “It’s a lost art, churches like this.” His gaze traipsed the bowlike supports, the stained-glass panels standing like sentries around them…and collided with those blue eyes.

“It’s a good place to be.” Her voice was soft, almost a whisper, as if talking might offend the heavenlies.

And yet her words felt like just the beginning. He wanted to know what followed. “When…?”

Aspen shrugged and shook her head. “Always.” Perspiration made her face glow. The blush in her cheeks wasn’t because of him, so he knew she’d been walking for a while. Searching churches. Searching for
him
. Why did that do strange things to his mind, the thought of her looking for him? Desperation had him culling the possibilities.

Back on track, Cardinal
. He pointed to the Lab hunkering at her side. “He probably shouldn’t be in here.”

“He’s a working dog, so technically they can’t throw him out. Besides, I wouldn’t have found you if it weren’t for Talon.” She beamed. “About two blocks over he got a hit. Nose to the ground, he was hauling in scents and moving.” She giggled. “It was amazing. I haven’t seen him do that…well, ever!”

Startled, he looked at the dog and tried to school his expression.

“I mean, I know you probably saw him doing it with Austin day in and out, but this was a first for me. Exhilarating.” She lifted a red Kong ball from her pocket. “I owe him some playtime now.”

“Then maybe he’s ready.” Oh man, he couldn’t believe he was doing this. It was wrong. He’d slip down that slippery slope and there’d be nothing to anchor him. Cardinal started toward the back of the church, the thoughts pushing him out the door.

Aspen’s lips parted, her mouth hanging slightly open. Expectancy seemed to hold her captive. “For?”

“A little adventure.” He wanted to return the smile that twinkled in her eyes, but he didn’t dare. “Eastern Africa.” He owed this to his protégé. Owed it to Aspen.

She fell into step with him, Talon trotting alongside. “Then, you’ll go?”

Understanding what it meant that she’d come looking for him, that she’d tracked him…that if she found out what happened in Djibouti, she’d never speak to him again, Cardinal knew he had to win her now or she’d be lost forever.

And if that happened, Austin Courtland was as good as dead.

Nikol punched to his feet. Patting Petr’s shoulder, Nikol stuffed the money into his hand. “I must go.”

The girl took a tentative step forward, her hand raised. “Okamžik,
prosím.”

He didn’t have one moment, not even for her. Nikol’s feet grew leaden at the soft voice. Move, he had to move or he would be caught. Heat and weight pressed against his chest, but he strode to the trees, toward anonymity.

A man stormed from a home—no, not
a
home.
The
home. The one she lived in.

“Who are you?” She rushed across the small yard. “Why do you bring the gifts?”

Hands stuffed in his pockets, Nikol tucked his head and hurried, his gaze on the trees.

“Please,” she pleaded.

She couldn’t know. Absolutely forbidden. Leaves crunched beneath his feet.

“Thank you.” The shouted gratefulness carried past the crunch of the leaves beneath his feet and the rustle of branches overhead and wrapped around his heart.

A sob punched from his chest, but he choked it back. He stumbled. As the branches slapped his shoulders, he heard voices—adult voices. Closer. Nikol broke into a run. A branch lashed his face, stinging. As he ran, he felt warmth sliding down his cheek. He cursed.

Only as his foot hit the curb of the street where the bus would retrieve him, did Nikol slow. In the devouring chaos of thousands fighting their way through life and crowding the streets, Nikol allowed himself to look back. Clear. No flushed faces or panting men.

At a corner shop he bought water and guzzled it. He had been careless. And for that, he might never be able to make the trip again. Disgusted and discouraged, he made his way to the metro line. Running his hand through his hair, he groaned. Rubbed his face—and cringed. He spun and used the window to eye the cut on his face. Red, swollen around the edges. The colonel would demand to know what had happened.

Nikol needed an excuse. The bus ride back would give him nearly three hours to sort it out, contemplate the fact he might never see Kalyna again. An ache squeezed his chest—the same one that marked her height. His mind flipped back to the yard. To seeing the girl. Cropped just below her chin, white-blond hair wreathed her angelic face like a glowing halo. She had the voice and blue eyes of an angel, too. A voice so soft and sweet…

What was it his father had said of his mother? That she had bewitched him with her voice and looks. That loving her had made him weak. Undisciplined.

    Eight    

N
othing but pale blue atmosphere embraced the plane as it climbed to cruising altitude. Clouds, rare and miniscule in the vast landscape of the horizon, peeked through the portal-shaped windows. Sunlight glinted against the plane’s wingtip. Cradled in the seat, Aspen stared out at the sky that held beauty and wonder. It was so incredible. So amazing. The way the universe had been constructed. The way if the planets had been aligned one degree to either side, they would not have the view of the galaxies they had now. Amazing.

And somewhere beneath it all was Austin.

She couldn’t let go of the hope that he was still alive. And it fueled her faith that Dane seemed to believe it as well. Otherwise, he wouldn’t have agreed to this venture.

Hmm, maybe she shouldn’t confuse his willingness to seek out the truth with her optimistic beliefs. She wasn’t sure why he’d walked out. If she dwelt on his vanishing act, all sorts of doubts would plague her. The point was he came. And clearly, that decision upset him. He wasn’t the same person she’d met at the ranch that day. Something was different about him. Something…closed off. But finding him in St. Mary’s…

The man had a core strength of steel. Even his eyes mirrored it. But the cathedral, peaceful and reverent with the comforting sconce lights and candles, had revealed a vulnerability. It’d been one of the most surreal experiences she’d had, like seeing a reflection of a person in flickering candlelight.

“How did you find me?”
His words had been husky. Charmed with the accent of the shadow of stubble and…

Something. She wasn’t sure what, but it ensnared her mind since that night a week ago. The way he stood there, tension—but also surprise—radiating from his well-muscled shoulders and neck.

Who was he? Dane seemed like so much more than a grunt who’d worked the war zone with Austin. Why would General Burnett know the most likely place to find Dane? Where did he go when he left the ranch? Did he stay in Austin? Or was there a reason—or a someone—that drew him away?