The Mercenary and the Shifters (The Turning Stone Chronicles) (4 page)

Chapter 6

As soon as Fiona’s jet landed, Mike undid his seatbelt. “Wait for me,” he told the pilot. “I shouldn’t be long.” Then he shouldered the duffel with his weapons and sprinted for the car Fiona had arranged. After starting the engine, he speed dialed Hugh and put him on speaker.

“Buddy,” he said when Hugh answered the phone. “I’m leaving the airport. I should be at your house within half an hour. What’s the status?”

“Okay, for now. LJ and the baby are in the basement panic room with orders not to open unless it’s you. Come onto the property through the back road. Don’t use the front. I booby-trapped the drive. You know where the key is. Come in the kitchen door. When you get to the front of the garage, walk on the grass, not the gravel path.”

“Roger that. Be there as soon as possible.”

Mike floored the gas pedal and the vehicle roared out of the small airport. He ran every yellow light and a few red ones in an effort to reach Hugh at top speed. If cops followed him, he’d just lead them to the house and explain there’d been an attack on a former FBI agent with top clearance. He’d deal with the fallout later.

He screeched onto the gravel drive between a row of corn stalks at the rear of the property. In the middle of the field he hung a left and raced along the long, winding road to the house, which sat by itself on several acres partially hidden with a windbreak of trees. When he neared, he saw no other vehicles. He parked behind the garage, dashed across the grass, and retrieved the door key from its hiding place.

“Hugh,” he called as he unlocked the door. “It’s me.”

His friend appeared in the kitchen doorway wearing a vest covered in plastic explosives. “Glad to see you, Mike. Sorry it’s under these circumstances.”

Mike eyed the suicide vest. His heart rate ratcheted up. Hugh’s vest looked similar to what he’d seen in Afghanistan. Those bombers took out platoons of soldiers.

“How many are you planning to take down?”

As they shook hands, Hugh’s hand trembled. Mike clamped his free hand on top of their clasped hands in an attempt to hide his own shaking.

“Every single jackal who comes on the property.” Hugh held out the trigger device for the explosives. “I arm it, and the whole place ignites.”

“You wired the house?”

“The house. The front steps, the drive, everything except the kitchen door. I left those alone so you could get in and get LJ and the baby out.”

“You armed it all since I talked to you?”

“Just the land mine at the front entrance. The wiring for everything else has been in place for a while. I connected it when I knew danger was coming.”

“We could set up a remote detonator and watch from a distance to take these guys out. Don’t sacrifice yourself to kill a bunch of low-life shifters.”

“It won’t work. Get LJ and the baby and get out of here.”

Mike headed for the basement stairs, then spun around. “You don’t have to do this, Hugh. Come with us.”

Hugh shook his head. “If I don’t blow this place to kingdom come, Falhman won’t believe we’re dead, and he’ll keep hunting us.”

“You’re using enough explosives to incinerate a city block. They won’t know who went up in the blast. There’ll be nothing to autopsy.”

“I’ve got to do this.”

“Dammit, Hugh. Don’t kill yourself.”

“It’s the only way to keep them safe.”

Mike’s heart sank at Hugh’s clenched jaw. He doubted his friend’s plan, but knew he wouldn’t win this argument. When Hugh made up his mind he would not budge. Mike dashed to the basement and retrieved LJ and the baby.

When he returned, Hugh pressed a piece of paper into Mike’s hands. “Here’s the location of Eli McCraigen’s hideout in Scotland. Take my family to him. He’ll protect them.”

LJ threw herself against her husband, sobbing. “Don’t do this, Hugh, please. We can run and hide again.”

“We can’t spend the rest of our lives running. If he’s coming after you he knows about the baby. I don’t know how he found us, but since he has we’re not safe anywhere. The only people who can protect you are Eli McCraigen and his shifters. You have to go.” He kissed the baby’s head. “For his sake, you have to go.”

The baby’s wail joined his mother’s as she hugged Hugh. He kissed his wife and son. Gently loosening her grip on him, Hugh handed her over to Mike.

“Take care of her, buddy.”

“I will.”

An explosion sounded. “The first perimeter bomb. Get out of here. Now!”

Mike threw LJ’s canvas suitcase over his free shoulder and hustled her toward the door. She slipped from his grip and turned before exiting. He followed her gaze. The detonator in Hugh’s hand blinked. He’d armed the house.

“Stay on the grass,” Hugh commanded.

Mike grabbed his charges and headed for the door. “Come on, LJ. We have to go.”

Sobbing, she allowed him to lead her across the lawn to the car. As they sped away, explosions assaulted his ears, followed by the rapid rat-a-tat-tat of multiple machine guns. When they neared the turn into the cornfield, a massive detonation rocked the car. LJ screamed and swiveled in the seat, practically climbing over the back. In the rearview mirror, Mike saw a billow of smoke framing tongues of fire. Silhouetted against the red he spotted a black SUV barreling toward them.

He floored the gas pedal and raced for the airport, praying he could outrun the vehicle on his tail.

Scrabbling for the cell phone in his pocket, Mike instructed LJ to call Fiona. When the call connected, he took the cell.

“I’ve got a big favor to ask,” he said. “Hugh’s requested I take his wife to Scotland. Can I use the jet?”

“Is Hugh okay?” Fiona asked.

“No. He’s gone.” Mike’s voice broke. He couldn’t let the grief to the front or he wouldn’t be able to concentrate on the job of keeping LJ and the baby safe. His training kicked in and added the anguish into the box where he locked his grief.

“Gone? What happened?”

“He used himself as bait and blew up the men who are after LJ. I think one group got away. I saw their SUV in the rearview mirror.”

“Oh, my God! Are LJ and the baby okay?”

“As much as can be expected, considering. He left them in my care, Fiona, and I have to keep them safe. I need to take them to Scotland.”

“Go. Take the jet. Do what you have to do.”

“I’m sorry about leaving you in the lurch.”

“Don’t worry. Your man’s here and I’ll be fine. Take care of Hugh’s family.”

“Thanks. I’ll be back as soon as I can.”

“Be safe.”

“I will.”

LJ dialed Fiona’s pilot and Mike instructed him to file a flight plan to Scotland.

Hugh’s family was his responsibility now. A rock settled in his stomach. No hard cash in this deal. Only payback for debts he owed Hugh. Was payment of debts considered altruistic by the universe? If so, this tiny baby and his mother were doomed.

The plane stood waiting and ready to go when they reached the airport. After settling LJ and the baby into their seats, Mike went into the cockpit.

“Get into the air ASAP,” he instructed. “We may have a tail.”

“Yes, sir.”

“What’s our ETA?”

“About 10 hours. I’ve arranged for our landing at Benbecula airport, in the Hebrides. They’ll have a vehicle waiting for you. I can refuel and be ready to return whenever you’re finished.”

“Thanks.”

“Is everything okay out there?”

“I’ve got a hysterical woman to calm down. Otherwise, I think we’ll be fine.”

Mike exited the cockpit and stood gathering his nerves. He could face a squadron of armed men, but he was out of his league and comfort zone when it came to panic-stricken women and howling babies. He’d seen men blown to bits while fighting and learned to shove the visions and emotions into a closed box, never to be opened again, so he could function. Just thinking about Hugh threatened to shatter the control he’d managed to develop over the years.

LJ had no such experience. Had never learned how to deal with horrible deaths. Didn’t have his coping mechanism. What the heck did you say to a woman who’d just seen her husband blown to bits?

LJ spotted him standing at the end of the cabin, and she sprinted for him, nearly knocking him over.

“Take me back!” she demanded. “I want to be with him. We want to be with him.”

Mike wrapped his arms around her and led her to the long, leather couch running the length of the plane. The baby, who had scooted off the seat and sat wailing on the carpet, tried to climb his mother’s leg as Mike seated her. Absently, she hoisted the child to her lap and jiggled him, whispering, “Shush, shush, shush.”

“He’s catching your angst,” Mike said. “They’re sensitive to emotions . . . according to my sister.”

“Are you married, Mike?” LJ asked as she swiped at a tear running down her cheek.

He shook his head. “Not the marrying kind.”

“Then you have no idea how I feel right now, so don’t patronize me with your advice.”

“I might not be married, but I’ve seen buddies blown to bits.”

She cringed at the last three words, and he wished he’d been more careful with his speech.

“Point is, I’ve got some idea how you feel.” He studied her as he waited for her to calm down. She inhaled deeply and rocked the baby at her breast, smoothing his dark hair over and over. Mother and child slowly stopped weeping.

“I need to know what’s going on, LJ. Why are shifters after you?”

“You know about shifters?” Surprise flooded her voice.

“I do, and I don’t trust them. Who is this creep, and what does he want?”

“His name is Falhman, and he’s after my baby.”

“Because?”

“Because he’s really his child, not Hugh’s.”

Mike studied the baby in LJ’s arms. He didn’t favor Hugh, or his mother. Why would Hugh die for a child who wasn’t his?

“And he wants him because . . .?”

“It’s a complicated story.”

“We’ve got time before we land. If I’m going to protect you I need to know everything.” He scrubbed at his neck to relieve the tension. He’d been saying that line too much recently.

He settled against the leather seat, prepared to wait her out if necessary. The child stabbed his tiny fists into his reddened eyes and scrubbed at them. Then he snuggled into the curve of his mother’s arms. As his eyelids dropped closed, LJ began her story.

When she’d finished, Mike said, “Doesn’t make sense.”

“That’s what I thought. But apparently it has something to do with their war and making a rogue Promised One. I don’t understand it all. Eli promised to fix the birth records to show Hugh Jr. was Hugh’s child. Apparently, because he’s after us now, Falhman must have figured out the truth . . . and where we were.” She broke into soft sobs. “You know the rest.”

The baby’s chin trembled when his mother’s chest started heaving. Mike slid across the sofa to her and eased the sleeping child from her arms. “Don’t cry. You’ll upset him.”

As he settled the toddler on the opposite end of the sofa, LJ drew in a long, shaky breath. With what appeared to be a Herculean effort, she stilled the onslaught of tears.

“I can’t lose him,” she whispered. “I just can’t.”

“We’ll get you safely to Eli. If Hugh thought he could protect you, then he can.” Mike opened the overhead storage. He removed two blankets from the bin and laid one over the child and the other over LJ. “Get some rest.”

LJ nodded and stretched out on the sofa. Mike powered on his cell phone and searched for the Internet map of South Uist, UK. Before they reached the Hebrides he wanted to know the terrain, find out everything he could about the islands, and pinpoint Eli’s location. He needed to be ready for everything and anything. Even though he had the latitude and longitude of Eli McCraigen’s safe house, he expected it might not be easy to find. He just hoped he hadn’t booby-trapped it like Hugh had.

Chapter 7

Falhman paced in front of the huge window in the great room of his penthouse watching dusk approach. He’d received no word from his thugs. They weren’t answering their cells. The idiots had probably let their batteries die. When they did show, a dead battery would be the least of their worries.

The doorbell rang and Bently answered. “There are men here to see you, sir,” the butler intoned.

Falhman wheeled around. Only two of the ten men he’d sent to recover his son stood in the entryway. “Well, where is he?” Impatience turned his voice razor sharp.

“They got away, boss.” The man cringed as he relayed the news, his head shrinking into his shoulders.

“What do you mean they got away?” Falhman pinned his underling with a glare hot enough to light tinder.

“The whole freaking yard was riddled with land mines. Those who got past them and into the house were blown to bits. He blew up the damn house.”

“Yet you escaped to tell me. How, you idiot?”

“We was driving on the grass. I guess he didn’t booby-trap that. Anyway, when we got to the rear of the house, we saw a car driving away. We followed but lost it on the highway.”

“Who was in the car? Did you at least see that?”

“No. They was already in it when we came round back. But we did what you told us and checked the nearby airports. The closest one, a small private airport, had a passenger manifest with a woman and a kid on board. Headed to something-ecula airport. Sounded like Dracula airport to me.”

The underling’s companion slugged him in the arm. “Not Dracula, you jerk.” He turned to Falhman. “The clerk said Benbecula airport in Scotland. You want we should go follow him there?”

Falhman resisted the urge to jump over the sofa and strangle the two men. How in the world had his smartest thugs died, yet these two baboons escaped? The universe was laughing at him. Him, the kingpin of the rogue shifters.

“You’d never get there before the plane landed. I’ll send someone from Edinburgh to watch for the plane’s arrival. Who did the plane belong to?”

The men shrugged. “It was a private plane, boss. We don’t know no more.”

“I told you we shoulda checked,” the other man whispered to his companion.

“Get out of here before I kill you both!” The men scurried from his presence as the words he roared echoed in the great room. When they’d gone, he dialed his henchman in charge of his Scottish forces.

“Hullo, Mr. Falhman,” said the Scottish voice on the other end of the line. “What can I do fer ye this fine mairning?”

“I need some eyes at the Benbecula airport. Make a couple of them winged trackers. The rest should follow by ground.”

“And what would we be tracking?”

“My son and his mother. When you get the boy bring him to me in Cleveland.”

“And his mother?”

For a minute he thought about LJ and the night he’d had with her when, apparently, they’d conceived his son. His new hope for the rogue faction. She might be fun to have around—for a while. But she’d likely interfere with his plans. Especially if she’d been tainted by Eli McCraigen or Rhys Temple’s upstanding morality.

“Kill her. All I want is the child.”

“Will do, sir.”

The line went dead. Falhman stared out the window into the coming night. He had another son. Thanks to the tap he’d put on Fiona’s telephones he’d discovered where Hugh and LJ had been hiding. Victory was within his grasp. A child with two of the ancient bloodlines in his veins, and his training, might be enough to tip the scales in his favor.

This time he wouldn’t make the same mistakes he had with Rhys and Roc. This new child would grow up knowing his father. Loving his father. Fulfilling his long-awaited bid to rule the world.

As the city’s night-lights started twinkling, he drew himself from his reverie and to the newest challenge ahead—Fiona Kayler. Turning on his heel, he headed to his bedroom to change into his tuxedo. He’d set the lady a challenge tonight—seduce the new head of Morrison Shipping. He didn’t want to miss her debut into the world of espionage and rogue shifter deceit. He’d been unable to bring her mother to his side, but he would not fail with the daughter.

He rubbed his hands together in glee. Oh, how he loved a good trap.

Fiona smoothed the glittering evening gown over her hips as she exited the car. Secured in her handbag, the overdrawn check she planned to give to the CEO of Morrison Shipping for his charity event burned like a hot coal. Half a million she couldn’t spare. Add the fortune she’d just spent to fly Mike and Hugh’s family to Scotland, and her squeezed piggy bank squealed as if she had it on the butcher block.

It’s all for a good cause. Dad always said the good stuff we do comes back around to us
.

The thought did little to comfort her. Apparently, she must be short on good. Most of what had happened to her recently was rotten.

A prick of her conscience warned her she was not on a proper path yet, with all this shifter business. She buried it under a list of justifications, ignoring the niggle that had haunted her ever since she read the Turning Stone ring inscription.

She was taking down the bad guys, for heaven’s sake.
Sometimes you had to stop a forest fire by building a bigger fire. That’s all I’m doing.

The woman at the door to the country club ballroom took her invitation and waved her inside. Fiona snagged a drink as a waiter passed, then set out in search of the CEO of Morrison Shipping. If she was lucky, he would be widowed and she wouldn’t have to make him commit adultery. Better yet, OmniWorld might accept her plan, and she wouldn’t have to marry for convenience, or inconvenience.

A round of inquiries netted her no sighting of the man she hunted. She took her drink out on the patio and stood admiring the lights reflecting around the shoreline of the lake. A light tap on her shoulder caused her to turn.

“I understand you’re looking for me.”

A tall, blond, muscular man stood inches away, the white, toothy smile on his face as dazzling as a full sun. Attraction to the handsome man surged through her. She shut it down. She had to save all her charm for the old man of Morrison Shipping.

“What an unusual pickup line,” she said as she rotated away from him.

He sidestepped until he stood face to face with her. “Not a pickup line, but I wouldn’t mind picking you up.” He held out his hand. “I’m Kyle Morrison. CEO of Morrison Shipping. At least a dozen people said a beautiful redhead was looking for me.” When she didn’t take his hand he started to leave. “But, I guess you’re not her.”

“Wait.” She grabbed his tuxedo sleeve. “I was looking for you.” She continued to clutch his jacket until he gave her hand a pointed glance. “Sorry,” she said, smoothing the fabric. “I was expecting a much older man.”

“My father,” Kyle said, giving her another bedazzling smile. “I hope I’m not a disappointment. Dad can be a hard man to live up to.” He studied her. “Do I know you? Your face seems familiar.”

“Sorry. I’m Fiona Kayler.”

Another charm-filled smile broke out on his face. “Now I remember you. We went to school together.”

This time she studied him. “Don’t think so. I’d remember someone who looked like you.”

“You didn’t give me much attention then. Nerd. Black-rimmed glasses. Pocket protector lined with colored pens.”

“Oh, my gosh. I do remember you. Geeky Kyle.” She clapped her hand over her mouth. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that. It was rude.”

Kyle shrugged. “Doesn’t bother me anymore.”

“I didn’t know your family owned Morrison Shipping.”

“You didn’t know much about me. You were too busy hanging out with the jocks.”

She openly ogled him. “You’ve changed.”

Kyle’s mouth turned up at the corners, and he returned the appreciation. “You haven’t. You’re still as breathtakingly beautiful as you were at sixteen, only sexier.”

A flush heated Fiona’s face. She was glad the lights on the patio were dim enough to hide her embarrassment. Her hand brushed over the precisely folded silk handkerchief in the pocket of his tux. “What happened to the pocket protector?”

“I traded it for condoms after I got refractive surgery and buffed up on the Harvard rowing team.”

And buffed up, he had. She let her gaze slide over him, enjoying the view. Seducing him into marrying her might not be a bad job. Then she remembered Mike’s strong arms around her and the emotions it elicited. Oh, God, she was acting like a tramp. Planning on seducing one man while she thought about another.

This is business. Strictly business. Pleasurable business, maybe, but just business.

The justification pep talk didn’t help.

“What have you been doing since graduation?” The smooth sound of his deep voice brought her back to the moment.

“Like you, I’m running the family business now. My folks are dead, and everything came to me.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Thanks.” His sympathy surged sad memories over her, and she hastened to change the subject. “You’re the CEO now? How do you like it?”

“I don’t. I’m here because Dad is dying, and he wants me to keep the business running. I’d rather be on Wall Street, but it’s hard to say no to a dying man.”

Could it get any better? If she could hold out until his father died, Kyle might be willing to sell the business, since he didn’t want to be here anyway. Maybe she could avoid espionage, a fake marriage, and still take the credit for the sale of his business to OmniWorld. She mentally slapped herself. Wishing a dying man dead faster was horrible.

She remembered the wretched pain that gripped her when her parents died. Kyle had to be hurting. He needed to be comforted, not swindled.

She laid a gentle hand on his arm. “This must be an awful time for you. I’m sorry about your dad.”

“Thanks. But now something good’s happened because I had to take over,” he said, his voice low and silky. “I’ve found you again.” The tone and the sultry expression he gave her sent shivers along her spine.

Suddenly, her body buzzed. Not from desire, but the buzzing she’d experienced when the man from OmniWorld had come to her office. She whirled around, searching the patio. A tall, slender man backed into the open doorway of the ballroom, and the buzzing disappeared.

A shifter had been watching them. Who and why?

She looped her arm in Kyle’s and moved toward the door, anxious to catch the observer. “We should go in now.”

He tugged her to a stop. “Not until you promise to see me again.”

Easy answer
. “I’d love to.”

Kyle drew her into his arms and lowered his head to hers. She backed away. He was already interested in her. A few well-placed encouragements and who knows what might happen.

“Too soon?” he asked, disappointment clouding his face.

Confusion knotted her stomach and she nodded.
What have I gotten myself into?

As the knot grew tighter, she decided she might not be cut out to be a spy. But she had no other choice, unless she wanted to lose everything.