Talon: Combat Tracking Team (A Breed Apart) (44 page)

Watterboy’s expression softened. “That look on your face…”

Aspen’s cheeks heated even more as she met the man’s hazel eyes. “You must think me silly.”

“Hardly.” He gave a quick shake of his head. “But…just remember what you’re feeling now.”

Remember? “When? What do you mean?”

“I should grab some rack time.” Watterboy left the room without another word.

Confusion settled on her like a weight. Ominous words. She turned back to Dane, contemplating Watterboy’s words. It left her unsettled, much like Timbrel’s warning had. She studied Dane. The pads of her fingers tickled at the stubble on his jaw and chin. Such chiseled features. Everything about him was chiseled. With his chest bared, she couldn’t help but notice, though she tried to keep her eyes on his face. His heart had even seemed chiseled—right out of granite—when she’d first met him. But little by little, that mask crumbled.

She brushed her fingers through his hair and bent down, planting a kiss on his left temple. “Father, bring him back to me. We’ll figure it out. Whatever it is.” She planted one more kiss, resolving to brave the coming storm. And there was definitely one coming. It made her stomach quaver. She’d been through a lot in her life, but nothing like this. And never had she felt the accompanying peace that quieted her panic. Gave her strength.

“I love you,” she whispered against his ear. When she eased back, her heart jackhammered as a steel gaze bored into her. “Oh. Hi.”

A smile wobbled on his lips, then his eye fluttered closed.

“Dane?”

Nothing but the quiet rise and fall of his toned chest.

Would he remember waking up to her whispered confessions of love? She moved to the side and dragged the chair Watterboy had occupied.

Without lifting his head, Talon peeked at her with one eye.

“You’re a good boy.”

His tail thumped twice, and he returned to chasing squirrels through the dream fields, just as Dane had returned to the drug-induced dreamland.

The side door creaked open. Candyman entered. He’d changed out of his combat duds into jeans. A circular tattoo of some sort dipped below the cuff of the black T-shirt that stretched tightly around his bicep. She’d not noticed with all the gear he wore how barrel-chested he was. His blond hair hung damp. She wasn’t sure, but it looked like his beard might be wet, too.

“Watterboy isn’t here.”

“Yeah.” He thumbed over his shoulder. “Headed to the showers.” One hand rested over his other, which was balled into a fist. He looked tense. No, not tense. Uncomfortable.

Maybe he was nervous about losing Dane. No, he’d heard Helverson reassure them…“You okay?”

“Yeah.” His gaze sparked. “Actually…can I talk to you?”

She hesitated. Wasn’t that what they were doing?

“About Timbrel.”

Smothering her smile, she nodded. “Sure.”

“Good.” He stuffed his hands in his jean pockets. “See, I’m crazy about her.”

Aspen nodded again, not trusting herself to talk.

“But she’s…” He held his hands out, waving them, clearly searching for the right word. “Unapproachable.”

His shoulders slumped. Poor guy. “Yeah. I mean, I see it in her eyes that she digs me, ya know? But…just when things start to happen, or seem like they’re going to happen—bam!” He pounded his fist into his hand.

Talon jumped.

“Sorry.” Candyman held his hands out in a placating manner. “Sorry,” he said to Aspen. “I just thought you might know…what am I doing wrong? How can I get her to give me the time of day?”

On her feet, Aspen smiled. “Stop wearing a watch.”

Candyman shot her a blank stare. “Come again?”

“Look.” She hated the truth she’d have to put into her words. She could do no less for the man who’d protected her, Talon, and Dane in that firefight. “Timbrel’s…unique. She’s been through a lot.”

“Like what?”

Aspen shook her head. “Sorry, that’s not my tale to tell. If you want to win her, it’s going to take time. A
long
time. And honestly,” she said with a heavy sigh, “I’m not even sure if it will ever work.”

“Look, I get it. She’s been wounded. Probably used and/or abused. I’ve seen it in the field and off the field.” He scratched his beard. “But I can’t figure out how to convince her that I want to give this a shot. I mean a real one, know what I mean?”

“No.” She crossed her arms over her chest. “What do you mean, Sergeant?” Something protective and challenging rose up within her. “You just met her.”

“Actually, no—remember in Afghanistan with the other handler, Ghost?”

Whoa, the guy had a killer smile. It really made her want to see Dane’s even more. And suddenly, instead of this combat-hardened Special Forces soldier, she saw a nervous cowboy.

“I took her picture.” He grinned bigger. “I wear it in my helmet. Have ever since. She’s what keeps me coming home.”

“Candyman, you haven’t even—”

He held up his hands. “I know. It don’t make sense to someone like you.” He scratched his beard again. “Well, for most people for that fact, but I knew when I first met her out there in the desert that she was for me. Seeing her here on this mission, spending time with her—it sealed my fate.”

Aspen laughed. “Don’t tell her that.”

His frown dropped. “Why not?”

“Timbrel doesn’t believe in fate.”

“What does she believe in?”

“Why don’t you find out?”

He studied her, eyes narrowed. “Seriously? Just like that.”

“Don’t beat around the bush with Timmy. She doesn’t play games, you’ve figured that out.”

“No kidding.”

“But let me give you one warning.”

“Yeah?”

“You’d better love big, tough war dogs.”

He hesitated, glancing at Talon. “She has a war dog?”

“Ghost calls him the Hound of Hell.”

“Oh man.” The man’s face fell. “Those dogs hate me.”

    Thirty    

C
lothes floated like ghouls around her. Rising. Falling. Twirling. An eerie sky embraced them as they rose once again then fluttered down. So beautiful
.
So terrifying. A sheet dropped with a bang
.

She jolted. Looked around. Turned a circle. Like blank walls, two sheets stood perfect and straight. A dark, bloodied form drifted through them
.

Her feet wouldn’t move. Her heart stopped. She couldn’t breathe
. Run! Hurry!

The man came forward. Closer
.

He looked kind. Reached a hand out, extended in friendship. In kindness
.

Aspen saw her own arm stretched toward him
.

A screech ripped through the air
.

Lightning struck—struck the man
.

Flames devoured the sheets
.

She screamed. Tried to run. Her feet tangled. She dropped to the ground
.
Hand in front of her face, she watched the man, now singed and smoking
,
float toward her. His face…

No, it wasn’t possible!

“No!” It couldn’t be. “austin!” she howled
.

Aspen bolted upright. Drenched in sweat, she groped for light in the darkness. A dream…She hauled in a thick breath. One hand over her chest, she pressed the heel of her other hand to the bridge of her nose and stifled a sob.

A soft thump-thump-thump drew her gaze to the side.

Talon stared up at her with those gorgeous brown eyes. Tail wagging, he wanted to reassure her that everything was okay.

Aspen patted the cot, and that was enough for him. He leapt up next to her and stretched out. Arms around him, she buried her face in his fur. Where was Austin? What was wrong? What if…what if Dane had been right? What if that man
was
Austin?

Exhaustion pulled at her limbs. At her mind. Seeing Dane nearly die. Watching over him for four hours till Candyman relieved her. She wouldn’t have left, but she could barely keep her eyes open.

She smoothed the dense fur of the Lab, his paws already kicking as he chased prey again through the field of dreams. He hadn’t been himself lately. Could it be…that Talon knew what Dane suspected?

Crazy.

Only crazy in that it was entirely likely that if the man
was
Austin, Talon would know. Better than anyone else. The thought took root. The children’s hospital—had Talon spotted that man? Is that why he took off then hid beneath the house, terrified by the bullets?

But Austin would never shoot at Talon. They were partners. That bond was thicker than blood.

That’s what I thought—that the blood bond was thick
. But if this was true, then Austin abandoned that bond.

The ramifications were heartrending.

No, there was no way Austin would do that. Not after what they went through with losing their parents. Their deaths had been brutal on Austin. He’d never knowingly do that to her.

Not even for some noble cause?

The question challenged her beliefs. Hadn’t she done things she never thought she’d do—like climbing aboard a barge filled with radioactive material—in the name of national defense?

Was that the same?

She dug her fingers into Talon’s fur and stroked it. So comforting, so warm, thinking…culling…formulating…remembering.

The man had Austin’s build.
Even—oh my word!—his
walk! Austin was a toe-walker, using the balls of his feet to walk rather than hitting heel first.

She flopped onto her back, one arm under Talon’s neck and the other propped over her head. Was it possible? Really possible that the man in the alley, the one who warned her and called Talon by name…was he Austin?

Possible.

But not probable. Aspen just couldn’t let that be the truth. Austin loved her too much. They were twins. They’d often joked that when one got hurt, it was like hurting the other. They’d promised since they were kids to
always—always—protect
each other.

“angel, they’re gone now, but I will always be here. I’ll do everything to protect you.”

The words were sweet. They comforted—at the time. But even then, she’d wondered at those words. Austin was the rambunctious twin. The one who got in trouble. Her best friend had often called him the “evil twin” because of his sneaky side. How deft he was at—Aspen’s pulse slowed as her thoughts powered down to that final
word—deception
.