Chapter Two

The morning did little to ease the tension left from the night before. First thing, Faith took care of any issues hanging fire with her agent and her publicist. Then she deliberately shut down her computer, ruthlessly driving her mind away from the latest book she was trying to start, and swallowed the last of her coffee. It was time to talk to her aunt.

“Of course you can come and see me,” Aunt Vivi told her. After a brief silence, she added, “Is this personal or professional?”

Faith swallowed a sigh. “Both.”

“All right. Come over about ten. The house is quiet by then.”

Aunt Vivi opened her front door the moment Faith pulled into the driveway.

“Have you been watching for me?” Faith gave a small laugh.

“Yes.” Vivi nodded. “I felt the tension in your voice and sensed your trouble.” She put an arm around her niece. “Come in. I’ve made some tea. I want to know what’s troubling your mind and shutting down your inner person.”

They sat at the kitchen table, the scene of every important conversation Faith could remember, inhaling the fragrance of the vanilla tea that Vivi liked.

“Mark contacted me,” Faith said at last.

Vivi raised one eyebrow. “That’s nothing new. The two of you have been sending each other telepathic messages since you were teenagers.”

Faith shook her head. “This is different. It frightened me.”

“Oh?” Vivi frowned. “How so? I can’t imagine Mark doing anything to scare you.”

“He’s in trouble. That alone scares me. Mark has always been the solid, indestructible rock.” She raked her fingers through her hair. The two of them had one unbreakable commitment to each other: no matter where they were, if one of them needed the other, they’d come. At once. And she would, if she could only find out where he was. “And I got such an image of pain. Of agony. And I felt it, too.”

Vivi took her niece’s hand. “Remember I told you a long time ago, when you first came to me to talk about this, that you might also have some empathic abilities? That in the right circumstances you could sense other peoples’ feelings and emotions. And pain.”

“Yes. I remember.” Faith picked up her teacup. “But I’ve never felt it as strongly as this.” She forced herself to look directly at Vivi. “I felt as if the pain were mine. You know?”

“And that’s because of the relationship you have with Mark.” Vivi sighed. “I’ve always wondered why the two of you never moved forward with what I knew you felt for each other.”

Faith shrugged. “Time. Circumstances. Not wanting to ruin a friendship with something that might not last.” She shook her head. “Now I wish we had.”

“If wishes were horses.” Vivi quoted her favorite saying. “I hope you’ll both acknowledge your feelings once you’re together again.”

“If only. Aunt Vivi, it frightens me to think what he must be going through. And I don’t even know where he is.”

Vivi rose and refilled their cups. She squeezed Faith’s shoulder, a gesture of warmth. “You have no idea if your messages got through to him.”

“No. None at all. And I had the feeling his were being shut down on that end. That’s why only bits and pieces come through.”

Vivi nodded. “That’s entirely possible. If they have a telepath among them he could be closing the psychic door.”

“I keep hoping that in one of these messages he’ll be able to give me some kind of clue as to where he is. If he even knows. Right now I don’t even have a starting point.” She ran her finger around the rim of the cup. “And I have to be able to tell him I got his messages.” She looked up. “That’s why I’m here. I can’t do this myself, especially if they have a psychic blocker.”

“All right.” Vivi put one of her hands over Faith’s. “I think for this we need other members of the Circle.” She leaned over and kissed her niece’s cheek. “Don’t sweat it. We’ll get this done.”

Faith went to stand at the big window overlooking the backyard. The abundance of flowers always soothed her, calmed her nerves when she was jittery. Right now she could have used a truckload of them. The thought of Mark somewhere in danger, wounded, maybe dying, terrified her in ways she couldn’t admit. If that was the case, the last thing she wanted to think about was all the years they’d wasted. Years they could have been together instead of off chasing dreams.

No! She wouldn’t think about that. Somehow she would let him know his message came through and she was on it. Finding him. She rubbed her hands up and down her arms, as if the very friction could dispel the cold that had settled inside her.

She heard Vivi speaking softly on the phone, then come to stand beside her. “Sarah and Emily will be here in about an hour. Then we’ll see what we can do.”

Something quick, I hope.

* * * * *

The sun was a globe of fire creeping higher in the sky, turning everything below it into an oven. It was barely nine o’clock in the morning, yet Mark Halloran was sure the temperature was already close to triple digits. The humidity was as thick as a rainfall. The roar and grunt of the howler monkeys was already splitting the air as they leaped from tree to tree, feasting on the canopy leaves.

How the hell did people live in places like this?

Or work in them?

And this appeared to be a permanent camp, with tents, lean-tos, and crude buildings. It also boasted a campfire pit and other amenities they wouldn’t have taken the time for in a transitory situation, unlike the temporary setup where the meeting had taken place. Where they’d been told the Wolf was going to meet with Escobedo’s group. A friend of former Special Ops soldier Rick Latrobe was deep undercover with Escobedo’s group. He had risked his life to get the message out that the Wolf was going to make a personal appearance. Unusual for him, but this shipment was so large and involved so much money, Escobedo had insisted.

Not at his camp, however. Not even the Wolf would be privy to its location. A meeting place not far away was set up. For the Wolf it would be in and out. Just like that. He would arrive with the shipment, Escobedo would bring the money. As soon as both parties were satisfied with the goods the transaction would take place, and that would be that.

Mark had gone to his commanding officer, Major John Gregorio, with the information. The major had passed it up the chain, and the word had come down to act. The US government had waited a very long time for a chance at the Wolf. To make it a twofer upped the ante.

A simple mission. Get in. Take out the bad guys. Get out. One less group of Al Qaeda plotters to worry about. And the arms dealer meeting with them. That was the key. That’s what he and his men had been told. It was a chance to clean out a viper’s nest and take out a key arms player at the same time.

With the weakening of the Tupac Amaru terrorist group and the decline of Shining Path, Al Qaeda had been recruiting heavily and spending big money to rebuild Peru’s terrorist infrastructure and create another foothold in South America to expand the establishment of a promised Islamic world.

But someone had leaked the mission, Escobedo’s group had been waiting for them, and now most of his men were dead. After burning the bodies of Mark’s teammates, Escobedo’s men had cleaned up every trace of what had taken place. Then everyone, surprisingly including the Wolf, and moved what Mark reckoned was about ten miles away.

Mark grunted, trying to shift to a more comfortable position. The tent gave him little protection him from the ruthless sun, and having his ankle chained to a stake barely two feet away severely restricted his movements. For maybe the thousandth time he wondered what had gone wrong and landed him in this abominable mess.

And God, what a true mess it had been. One minute they were finding their positions to take their shots, carefully hidden, the target painted. The next they were the targets instead. The noise of the AK47s still echoed in his ears, along with the stench of the blood of his dying men. They’d even gotten the comm guy they’d left at the extraction point with their gear.

He’d forced himself to look when they dragged the bodies into the center of the camp, piled them together, and set them on fire. They stood watching with arrogant, evil grins on their faces, then opened bottles of whiskey to celebrate. Mark was sure it was a sight he’d never forget.

He knew what they wanted—the name of the man who had betrayed them. They could kill him and very well might, but the source had to be protected at all costs.

Yet as much as they tortured him, for sport and pleasure as well as for information, there were things he hung onto that kept his sanity intact. For one thing, despite his wounds he kept himself alert and had counted the bodies. One was missing—Joey Latrobe. The kid. The sniper. Brother of Rick, the guy who’d brought them the information. Mark was convinced Joey wasn’t dead, or the terrorists would have found him. No, badly wounded or not, he’d found a way to hide from them. Now if Mark could only be sure he got away.

Of course he had no idea what shape Joey was in, or even whether he could give his rescuers any information about the camp. He tried to remember the coordinates where they’d landed, estimate where they’d been ambushed and try to pinpoint where they were now. Not an easy task when he had to fight through the ‘pain to think at all.

But the thing that gave him real strength was his connection to Faith. God. Beautiful Faith. The woman of his dreams. How stupid was he to walk away from what they could have had to play soldier? No, not that. To defend his country. His sense of honor and patriotism was stronger than almost anything. But now, if he died here in this godforsaken hellhole, the only memory he’d have would be of that long weekend they’d shared before he was deployed the first time.

And the erotic dreams that came to wipe away the pain.

When he closed his eyes she was in his arms again, her lush body naked against his, her breasts pressing against his chest. His hands coasting over her satiny skin, fingertips exploring every dip and hollow.

“It’s a good thing you aren’t around when I’m planning a mission,” he murmured, his lips against her throat. “I just look at you, and my cock gets so big I’m afraid my pants won’t contain it.”

Her laugh was throaty and musical, and her fingers drifted down to close around his thick erection. “Good. That’s the way I like it.”

She moved her hand in a slow pumping motion, and he groaned at the heat that rushed through him. Lowering his head, he closed his lips over one taut nipple, pulling it into his mouth. It hardened even more at his touch, and when he dragged his teeth over it lightly her grip on his shaft tightened.

“Easy.” He released the nipple and lapped around the edge of it. “We don’t want the dance to end when the music has just begun.”

“Ah, but we can always dance again,” she reminded him.

He tasted the skin in the valley between her breasts, doing his best to take control of the situation even as her fingers continued to stroke the hard, thick length of him. Light movements that teased him and heated his blood.

But then just being near her did that.

He drew tiny circles with his tongue in her navel, feeling the heat of her body scorching him. He inhaled, drawing her scent into his nostrils, her own perfume mingling with the musk of her arousal. His cock flexed in her fingers.

His tongue followed the sweet indentation where her thigh and hip joined, just a light, flickering touch. She whimpered a tiny sound that pierced him like a bolt of lightning. With a swift movement he lifted her hand from his shaft, rolled her onto her back, and spread her legs wide. Enjoying for a moment the sight of her sex glistening with her juices, he bent his head and licked her slit end to end, giving the tip of her clit a tiny caress with his tongue.

God, she smelled and tasted so damn sweet. Better than any drink he’d ever had. Better than the fanciest dessert. He took his time lapping her, sucking in every drop of juice on her tender flesh. His cock ached unbearably, the need to slide into her so great he shook with it. But he refused to deny himself the pleasure of her taste or her scalding response.

Faith cried out, tunneling her fingers in his hair and clutching at his head. Her juices bathed his tongue, making her passage slick as he thrust his tongue inside her. He always tried to slow down, but just touching her ramped up her hunger to such a level that he had only a thin veneer of control.

Capturing her clit with thumb and forefinger, he tongue-fucked her in earnest, with hard, steady strokes, her cream coating his tongue. Her inner walls fluttered, then clenched.

“Oh, please,” she begged.

He pinched her clit, hard, and she came with an explosion of desire, her body sucking his tongue in and locking it in place. Her hips bucked as he lapped and sucked and drew every last quiver from her. But when she lay back, limp, he rose to his knees and reached for the condom he’d tossed onto the mat beside them. Positioning the head of his cock at her entrance, with one hard movement he drove himself home.

She tightened around him, her breath hitching as he wrapped her legs around him and locked her ankles at the small of his back. Sliding his hands beneath the soft firmness of her ass, he thrust into her again and again and again. Even as her aftershocks were dying away new spasms began to ripple though her. She matched his rhythm, lifting herself to him as he slammed into her over and over.

The climax caught them both at once. As the walls of her pussy milked him she cried out his name again and again. He collapsed on her, both of them covered with sweat, hearts beating hard and erratic.

God, he loved this woman. Loved being with her. Loved fucking her.

He buried his face against her soft shoulder.

Faith!

 

He opened his eyes to find himself still in the ragged tent in the stinking Peruvian rainforest, anchored to a stake. His leg and his head throbbed. But so did his cock, images of the dream still dancing in his head like some kind of erotic butterflies.

Faith!

Had she gotten his message? Since they’d discovered their shared ability in their teens, their telepathic communication had been a fun thing for them, a way to shut everyone else out and communicate only with each other. But the army had learned about his special skill and had people work with him to develop it even more. Hone it. Refine it. One of the men on this mission was also a telepath. And Chase Wohlmann could construct psychic shields. That meant he could put invisible walls in place to prevent strangers—or enemies—from reading their message. He could also protect them from assaults on their minds.

But Chase was dead. Burned in the mass funeral pyre. Mark nearly vomited every time he thought about that horrific scene. He needed Faith, needed to hear her voice in his head. Needed her to ground him in the middle of this nightmare.

Faith!

Mark knew one of the men in the camp was a telepath. He’d felt it when he sent the first message. The slamming shut of the mental barrier. Preventing Faith’s reply from getting through. He’d have to be very careful.

“Well, Captain Halloran.”

The acquired British accent punctured his thoughts. Mark looked up at the man who’d come into the tent, the arms dealer who should be dead now instead of standing in front of him. Tall and lean, aristocratic in bearing, his disdain was evident, not only for Mark but also for the men who bought his merchandise. Mark knew he’d have been long gone by now if not for the information he was seeking. Each time Mark was dragged to the center of the camp for whatever torture the men devised, this man stood watching with eyes that glittered, a tiny smile curving his lips.

“No cheery greeting?” the man asked, then kicked the open cut on Mark’s leg.

Mark gritted his teeth and forced himself to show as little reaction as possible. So far he’d been able to keep from saying anything to his captors. They could kill him and they very well might, but he’d never open his mouth.

“Ah, well. No matter. I’d really love to be gone from here, but unfortunately you have information I need.” He deliberately stepped on the injured leg.

Mark ground his teeth and swallowed a scream.

“You could save yourself a lot of pain, you know. I will use whatever means the men devise to find out how you knew about this camp and who organized this little mission of yours. This could seriously jeopardize plans already in place, not to mention affecting my business enterprises.” He nodded toward the open flap, and two men entered. Unshackling Mark from the stake, they lifted him by his arms and half-walked, half-carried him outside.

“Oh, and by the way,” the man called after him. “We counted the bodies carefully. One of your men is missing. Wherever he is, we’ll find him.”

Please, God, keep Joey safe.

Then Mark concentrated on clearing his mind of everything but an image of Faith and projecting one short message before they shut him down.

Come . . . need . . .

* * * * *

Vivi had brewed a fresh pot of lotus tea, an herbal blend for meditation and wisdom. Faith loved the scent of fresh flowers that lingered over the pale golden infusion of white lotus, chamomile, chrysanthemum, and linden. She had kept her own supply ever since her aunt introduced her to it.

They were seated at the kitchen table again, this time joined by Sarah Winston and Emily Ross, the two women Vivi had called. They were the first members of The Lotus Circle that Faith had met besides her aunt and had helped her enormously as she struggled to grow into and control her power. As two of her guides when she became a member of the Circle, they had come today without hesitation.

“I can’t thank you enough,” she told them, nervously stirring her tea. “Mark and I have never done anything with our . . . ability . . . except communicate with each other. I know you think we wasted it, but it was a very private thing with us, something we chose not to share. Or use in a way that included others.”

Sarah put her hand on Faith’s arm. “That is your choice, sweetheart. Being a telepath doesn’t mean you have to do anything with it except what you feel comfortable with. The Lotus Circle is only for helping people expand their powers fully and teaching them how to direct them. And being here, like today, when we’re needed.”

“Have you had any more messages?” Emily asked.

Faith shook her head. “I told Aunt Vivi I’m sure someone’s blocking him. He can’t—”

R-running out . . . time . . . .

She gripped the edge of the table, Mark’s voice coming out of nowhere, as clear in her head as if he was standing next to her. A sharp, stabbing pain in her ribs followed it, almost doubling her over.

“Faith, honey?”

Vivi was beside her at once, arms around her, pulling her into the jasmine scent that always surrounded her.

“I heard him.” Faith could hardly get the words out. “And felt the pain again. Oh, Aunt Vivi, he’s in agony. Something terrible is happening to him. Right now.”

“All right, sweetheart.” She wrapped Faith’s hands around her cup and helped her lift it. “Sip your tea, just a little to calm you. We won’t get anywhere if your nerves are jangled and interfering.”

In a few moments Faith felt herself relax a little, but a fine line of tension still ran through her body.

“Faith.” Emily leaned forward. “You must try again to get through to him. If you can’t, we’ll work on something else.”

“All right. I’ll do my best.” She closed her eyes, still holding her teacup, and did the mental exercises she used to clear her mind. Finally, when she was ready, she brought up a clean image of Mark, a happy image. “I’m here. Can you hear me?”

“Let’s all do this together,” Sarah suggested when it was apparent there was no response. “We’ll all focus on the same message.”

“Wait.” Emily put down her cup. “We need to increase our strength.” Motioning to the others, she indicated they should leave their seats and form a circle around Faith. “Join hands, please. Left palm up, right palm down, hands interwoven to create an energy ring.”

In the thick silence filling the room, Faith absorbed the power the women were infusing into her. She called up an image of Mark and focused her mind on it.

“Mark. I’m here.”

After five minutes the lack of response was a strong indication someone had erected a thick shield that prevented Mark from hearing her. Or answering her. The energy ring wasn’t piercing the shield.

“Five more minutes,” Aunt Vivi said.

When the words broke the silence Faith jerked, startled.

You. Come . . . South America . . . in South America.

Mark! Give me a clue.

But it was obvious the barrier was in place again.

“All right.” Vivi refilled everyone’s cups as they took their places at the table again. “We need to have a plan.” Vivi stirred her tea and looked at her friends. “Ladies, we need to figure out how we can pierce that shield and help these two exchange messages more clearly. Honey, Sarah, Emily, and I will work on that. You’ve never stretched yourself to that level and you might only be a distraction.”

“I can’t do nothing,” she protested.

“I know you’ve just started a new book,” Sarah began, but Faith interrupted her.

“Forget that.” She waved her hand. “The book is on hold until I find Mark. For him to ask me for help means he’s in serious trouble. Right now that’s the only important thing.” She looked at her aunt. “Don’t make me sit on the sidelines and wait.”

“Of course not.” Vivi gave her a warm smile. “You need to keep sending that message. Do it on a regular basis. Clear your mind and focus. And, my dear, you’re going to use abilities you possess that we don’t. Your skills as a writer.”

Faith wrinkled her brow. “I don’t understand.”

“I want you to start your own investigation. We have a general geographic location. Use all your contacts to see if you can find out what Mark’s last mission was. And get that research assistant of yours busy on digging up anything she can on hot spots in South America, or rumors of dangerous activity, that would require a Special Ops mission.”

Energy surged through Faith, and for the first time since Mark’s initial message she felt she was doing something positive. “I’ll start right away.”