CHAPTER TEN
Lara launched herself toward the elevator exit, not about to risk the seconds a failed wind-walk would cost her with Lucian coming for her. Even if she got off the lethal head shot it would take to put him down, she wasn’t likely to escape injury herself.
At the same moment she moved toward Damion, he rotated toward her, and in doing so, made the potentially lethal choice of giving Sabrina his back. Never slowing, acting on pure instinct honed from years of training, Lara recalculated her actions, taking the risk Sabrina represented into consideration. Rather than avoiding Damion’s weapons and ducking, she ran straight at him, their eyes locking in a second of understanding before they both began firing to the sides and behind one another. The instant their bodies collided and a solid connection formed, Damion wind-walked them out of the cabin.
They materialized moments later, breaking apart, each using their guns to scan for danger, and finding all was clear. Lara found herself on top of a hill. The cabin was a mere speck in the dim glow of newly formed moonlight and stars.
“My men will keep Lucian and Sabrina occupied for a while,” Damion said, shoving one of his weapons in his back waistband, the other in the holster under his pant leg. “But they won’t give up, Lara. Lucian and Sabrina are going to keep coming until you die, or they die trying to kill you.”
Yes. They wanted her dead. Not just Sabrina now, but Lucian—Lucian was Powell’s personal bodyguard, whom Powell presumably trusted. Lara let her weapons fall to her sides, squeezing her eyes shut as the adrenaline of battle faded, and her headache returned with nauseating intensity. Or maybe this time it was the hum of defeat.
“What is it they don’t want you to tell me, Lara?” Damion asked.
With a twist in her gut, she turned away from him, offering him her profile, pretending to stare at the stars and moon, before she did something stupid like actually tell him about Serenity. She couldn’t do that. Wanting to trust Damion and doing so were two different things. She’d trusted Powell, even Sabrina. Now… she didn’t even know if she could trust herself.
“I know you aren’t working for Adam,” Damion said. “Not with Lucian involved.”
She had no idea what Lucian’s history with Adam was, but apparently, it wasn’t good. “You guessed wrong,” she said, training telling her to deny, divert, and repackage her cover.
Tense seconds ticked by, and though she didn’t look at him, she could feel his gaze—heavy and probing. He didn’t believe the picture she was painting. She wouldn’t have believed her either. It was time to leave him now, time to escape, and go on her own.
“Talk to me, Lara,” Damion urged, pulling her from her thoughts back to the moment. “Before more people die.”
“More?” she asked, daring a look at him, and trying not to sound as affected as she felt. “Who died? Not your Renegade friend, right? Your people came and saved him.” She shouldn’t care about the Renegade named Chale, nor the fact that he was injured because of her. He was, after all, Renegade. But she did care, and she cared that he mattered to Damion.
“He’s been taken to Sunrise City and into surgery.”
“He’s GTECH though,” she said relieved. “He’ll be okay.”
“GTECHs aren’t indestructible, especially where Green Hornets are concerned. Your friends pumped him full of them.”
“No,” she said. “That’s not possible. We don’t have Green Hornets.”
“The bullets in Chale’s gut say differently. I guess Adam, or whoever you work for, only gives his favorites the good bullets. Clearly you aren’t one of his favorites, at least, not anymore. I guess you should have killed the Russian.”
She drew her spine stiff. “I know what you’re doing,” she said. “And fishing isn’t your sport. Maybe you should try hunting, and preferably, something other than me this time.”
“Let’s hunt the people trying to kill you, Lara,” he said, reaching for her before she could stop him and pulling her close, lowering his voice. “Together. We’ll do this together. Tell me what I need to know, and let’s go get them before they get you.”
Lara would have shoved him away, but the guns in her hands were a disadvantage, unless she wanted to shoot him and… she lost the thought as sudden realization overcame her. The pain in her head was easing with Damion’s touch, as it had in the bathroom. If she stayed, she would give him her trust. It was almost out of her control, it was so certain. “I can take care of myself.”
“You’re in this thing too deep,” he said, his hands reaching down to her gun, closing around her hands where they clutched the steel. “Let me help you.”
“I don’t even trust you,” she said. “Why would I want your help?”
“Yet you called Caleb. You were worried about me.”
“Self-preservation,” she countered in what was only a half truth. She had been worried about him, and not in a small way. “I had a better chance of getting out of there alive with you, than without you.”
“Then you’ll understand me wanting you to put the guns down,” he said. “Self-preservation and all.”
“I thought you wanted me to shoot you?”
“Not so much right now.”
“Fine,” she said, bending her knees and disposing of the weapons on the ground. Then, straightening, her gaze lingered on his chest, avoiding eye contact for fear he’d read her sudden agreeability for what it was—a plan to attempt wind-walking to a public place where guns wouldn’t be acceptable. “I don’t have a macho complex like you do.”
“Just a Renegade complex,” he said, his hands settling on her waist. “I’d think the fact that we saved your life and that your people tried to kill you would have changed that.”
Her gaze jerked to his, her hands covering his at her waist, intending to remove them. “You want something from me. They don’t want me to give it to you. Let’s not pretend that protecting me is anything but what it is.”
He studied her a long moment, calculating, shifting to a topic he clearly believed would get to her. “They killed the Russian,” he said. “He’s dead.”
Her fingers, still covering his, tightened uncontrollably before she could stop them. Damn it! His kids, his wife. Her heart bled at the idea that they’d seen it happen, or that they, too, were dead, but she didn’t dare ask Damion. Already she’d showed her hand. Already he believed she was working for someone other than Adam. She still clung to hope that she worked for the good guys, yet she didn’t want Damion to be the enemy either.
“The family’s safe,” he said, seeming to read her silent questions. “Under our protection and about to get the bad news, if they haven’t already.”
So they hadn’t seen it happen. Lara squeezed her eyes shut, relieved, but rattled by the fact that Damion had read her hot points so well. There was only one way she was going to keep this man—this Renegade—at a distance, to sort through fact and fiction before she told him everything, regardless of consequence.
She inhaled, and ironically, his touch had made her stronger, her head clearer. At least right now, she wasn’t hallucinating. She wasn’t seeing flashes of images. She wasn’t even dizzy as she had been during her previous failed attempts to wind-walk. Maybe… just maybe… she could pull off an escape.
Not giving herself time to think about what happened if she failed, or what would happen when he followed her, and she knew he would, Lara willed the wind to her. The familiar tingling sensation slid into her limbs, a moment before she faded into its depths.
Lara materialized several minutes later in the alley behind the mall, out of sight. At least now she knew the wind-walking disability came with the dizziness. In its absence she was still mobile, but then, so was Damion. Her skills were back. Her head was clear. She had a window of opportunity to decipher fact from fiction, friends from enemies, Damion included. If he was intentionally using some GTECH skill to create her illness, she had no idea how close he had to be to do it. She didn’t linger, didn’t dare, knowing he’d be seconds behind her. Rushing onto the sidewalk speckled with shoppers, she charged toward the mall’s main entrance, stumbling slightly as the hum in her head returned with full force, a rush of dizziness suffusing her.
She shoved it aside and entered the mall, urgently maneuvering to get out of the main corridor, and any chance of being within Damion’s visual. Darting inside a large department store to her left, she headed past the makeup counters and straight to women’s clothing.
Grabbing a few things off the racks—jeans and T-shirts—that she could change into, she headed toward the dressing rooms, which were unattended. As she hurried down the hall, she realized that the idea of changing clothes, and her appearance, though a good one, was hampered by a problem—she had no money, no purse, no resources—but she knew how to create an identity, even garner credit cards. She just had to get out of this mall and get to work.
Lara swayed, her steps uneven, but she didn’t dare stop walking until she was at the room farthest from the entrance. She could feel the mental images, or hallucinations, or whatever these episodes were, coming on again. The fact that Damion wasn’t here and couldn’t be intentionally causing them was cold comfort. Or could he? How powerful was he? Enough to attack her mind from a distance?
Desperateness rose inside her to find a place that was secure where she could try to sleep off her weakness, a place where she wouldn’t end up in a ball on the floor in public.
She opened the dressing room door and struggled with the slide lock, which didn’t fit together properly, until she just gave up. At least it was a solid door, not a curtain.
Lara tried to hang the clothes on the wall hook, missing, but not caring. She couldn’t settle onto the built-in bench fast enough. The hum in her head, in her ears, grew louder again, inescapable, and she had the impression of having a bad seat in a small plane.
Drawing her knees to her chest, she used them as a pillow, letting her head droop and her lashes lower. She just needed to rest a second, hide here until Damion gave up on the search for her. Out of sight, out of mind. Yes. Perfect. She’d rest, and he’d give up searching. If he was near, if he was causing this, maybe he’d just pass her by, and she’d be okay again.
No way was Damion allowing Lara to get away from him. There were too many unanswered questions about what she was involved in, and truth be told, this reached beyond duty and honor. Everything male inside him screamed “find her and protect her,” and yes, “mine” in a ridiculous, primal way—feelings that were really going to bite him in the backside if she betrayed him.
Determined, driven to find her, he walked through the entrance to the mall and into the scurry of busy shoppers without really seeing them, stretching his mental feelers for Lara, seeking the familiar strand of energy a Tracker used to locate a target, usually an injured GTECH who couldn’t maintain their shields, betting that Lara didn’t have hers up. And if Damion could find her, so could Lucian.
Damion shut his eyes, ignoring whoever bumped into him, focused on Lara, on the moment he’d kissed her, on the taste of her, the feel of her, the energy that was her. Mentally reaching, touching, seeking, and then finding that wisp of her presence, different from the male GTECHs he’d tracked, and from the human females marked by sex with a GTECH—an energy that was both familiar and all Lara.
His eyes snapped open, and he started walking, cutting through the department store, heading straight to the ladies’ clothing section and the dressing room in the corner. He entered the hallway to the changing areas without delay, following the energy, the essence that was Lara.
He didn’t hesitate at the door, certain she was behind it. He turned the knob and entered the small room, shutting himself inside with her. The feminine scent of her—familiar like her energy, alluring and spicy—rushed over him, like flowers blooming on a hot, summer day. But the sight of her, curled in the corner of the bench, much like she had been in the shower, legs pulled to her chest, sent a chill down his spine. It sparked fear that she was again lost between hallucination and reality.
“I’d make a scene and yell at you to get out if I thought you’d care,” she whispered, clearly aware of who had joined her. She lifted her head slowly, as if it were a heavy weight, hard to endure, fixing him in a black-eyed glossy stare. Her soft dark hair. A beautiful mess framing her makeup-free, ivory face.
“And I’d ask why you ran,” he said, “but I wouldn’t like the answer, and it wouldn’t change the outcome. I found you.”
“How did you find me?” she asked.
“I’m a Tracker,” he said. “That’s what we do. We find people.”
“Tracker,” she repeated. “Is that some special boy’s club I wasn’t invited to or what?”
Interesting. No one inside Zodius City would be without this information. He leaned against the door. “It’s a skill a select number of GTECHs possess. I’m one of those Trackers, and so is Lucian. That means if I found you, so can he.”
“That explains so much,” she said, the flip remark doing nothing to disguise the heaviness beneath it. “And how exactly do I hide from you and Lucian?”
A mental shield was as natural to a GTECH as breathing. Yet she didn’t know what it was? Just another piece of a puzzle that didn’t fit together, but he planned to try—just not now. Not when Lucian would be coming for her.
“You hide from Lucian by coming with me,” he said, sitting down beside her, his hand settling on her knees. “And by trusting me.”
She sucked in a breath, as if his touch shocked her, but instead of shoving him away as he expected, she latched onto him and seemed to sigh a breath of relief, almost pleasure.
“Oh God, that feels so good,” she said, dropping her head on her knees and scooting closer to him, until he wrapped his arms around her knees.
Heat rushed through him, hot and fast, a reaction to her soft sounds, her soft touch.
“Ah well, yeah, okay. If that feels good, you ain’t seen nothing yet.”
She lifted her head and stared at him, searching his face. “You really don’t know what you’re doing to me, do you?”
“If you’re accusing me of sexual voodoo again,” he said, breathing in the sweet, feminine scent of her, leaning closer to draw it in, his gaze sweeping her lush, kissable mouth, “I’m going to accuse you of the same.”
“That isn’t an answer,” she murmured, the warmth of her breath teasing his cheek. “It’s deflection.”
He knew damn well things were getting too personal with Lara, that soldiers didn’t do personal, they did duty. But still he found himself saying, “If I were going to deflect, I’d dodge and avoid. And I definitely wouldn’t do this.” His mouth brushed hers, a caress, barely there, yet it burned through him like a wildfire, lighting up every pore of his body.
It was a lingering kiss, a gentle kiss—at least it was until Lara moaned and pressed her hand to his face. In a slide of tongues, she was in his lap, his back against the wall, her hips spreading his, and damn, he could get used to her just like this. All over him, around him, on him. The feel of her pressed close, the taste of her urgency, her absolute need for him, was more than he could stand. Damion slid his hand up her back, the other lacing into her hair, deepening the kiss even further, drinking her in—thirsting for her, like he’d never thirsted for a woman. Knowing this wasn’t a good choice, knowing it was dangerous, for the first time since joining the army, he didn’t care.
His phone sounded, and damn if telephone calls weren’t his saving grace with this woman. The sound jerked Damion back to his senses, and somehow, he managed to tear his lips from hers. She tried to kiss him again, and hell, he let her, wanted her to. Somehow he yanked his cell from his belt, lavishing one last slide of his tongue against hers, before he forced her mouth from his, holding her back while he glanced at the ID and answered.
“Talk to me, Houston,” he said, his voice rough and gravelly, even to his own ears.
“We tangled with Lucian and Sabrina, but they got away,” came the voice he recognized as Houston’s.
Damion hesitated, debating about asking for backup, and not because he didn’t trust Houston, but because he was quite certain that the woman melting like warm, sweet honey in his arms could easily turn brittle and cold if he made one wrong move. “Take care of the woman trapped in the underground facility,” he said, and gave Houston the entry codes. “I’ll be in touch soon.”
He hung up, searching Lara’s face. “Lucian and Sabrina are on the move. We need to be too.” Which meant getting themselves underground and fast, before Lucian picked up Lara’s energy path. His fingers slid around the back of her neck, and he gave her a quick kiss. “But later, we are going to talk about your need to jump my bones in unusual places and cuss me.” He helped her to her feet and held her steady. “How do you feel? Are you okay to move?”
“Yes,” she said, her gaze sliding to his chest. “I think I am now.”
“What does that mean? You think you are now?” He’d seen how she’d been when he’d first found her. “You’re still hallucinating, aren’t you?”
“I’m okay,” she said, and turned away, reaching for the doorknob, clearly doing her own share of deflecting. Damion pressed his hand to the wooden surface above her head. “If you run from me when we leave this room, I will find you. That is, if Lucian and Sabrina don’t find you first and kill you.”
She didn’t turn. “I know,” she said softly.
“So you aren’t going to run?” he queried insistently.
Rotating to face him, she pressed her back to the door, tilted her chin upward to stare at him, her eyes now bright green and alert, a brilliant contrast to her dark hair and pale skin. “No, Damion, I’m not going to run. I told you I needed you, and that was the truth. I realize that now. I need you.”
There were layers beneath that statement, layers he was going to explore and understand, some of which his gut told him he wasn’t going to like. For now, though, he’d settle for getting them both out of here alive. “You’ll be explaining that statement, and a whole lot more, in the very near future.”
Her chin lifted defiantly. “You do love a good fight, don’t you?”
When they ended with her on top of him, kissing him senseless, hell yeah, he loved a good fight. And as he yanked open the door he did so hoping for a downright raging battle that didn’t include Lucian and Sabrina.