Blaze (32 page)

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Authors: Joan Swan

BOOK: Blaze
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“That whole fiasco with Tony.”
“I'm . . . not clear . . .”
“It really doesn't matter now. It's over.” His voice lightened just enough to confuse Keira. “Call me an overprotective father figure, but you could do so much better.”
“Um . . . thank you. I think.”
“You can thank me by telling me you're not resigning.”
“Re—?
What?
”
“Tony I was happy to get rid of, but you're going to have to come in and look me in the eye—”
“Tony
Esposito
?” she clarified.
“Do you know of another Tony in this office?”
She couldn't get her mind to fit the pieces together. “I'm sorry, sir, I'm confused. Are you saying Tony resigned? By letter? When?”
“It came by courier today. I thought you would know,” he drawled, “considering one of the reasons he cited was a failed relationship with you, which he acknowledged was inappropriate behavior considering
it's against protocol
.”
The last words were nearly yelled across the line. Keira winced and pulled the phone from her ear. Interdepartmental relationships were a big no-no. But since she hadn't been in a relationship with Tony and since dead men couldn't write resignation letters, this had to be DARPA's attempt at undermining her position with the FBI. Which was, ironically, a huge relief, because it meant Angus
wasn't
one of them.
“Uh, sir. That . . . if I can be candid . . . is horse shit. Tony and I were never involved.” She felt like a broken record. How many times would she have to deny this relationship? “And I don't have any intentions of . . .”
I'd be very happy with one. Boy or girl. Now or later.
Oh, shit.
Her two worlds collided. Again.
“Keira?”
“Yeah. So, I was calling to ask for a few days off.” The faster she could get off this subject, the better. “I'm still pretty sore from the rescue.”
“Sure.” He sounded a little bewildered now. “But you're coming back, right?”
She hesitated. Struggled. Then finally answered, “Of course. I'll call you in a few days.”
 
Luke held his tongue as he guided the SUV through the gates to Teague and Alyssa's property, pulled open by the same two fatigue-clad, subgun-toting men he'd jogged by that morning on his way out.
His stomach burned as images of Keira's childhood swirled in his head. Every time she opened her mouth to talk about her past, something shocking fell out. It was no wonder the hell she'd lived through—so much darker than he'd imagined—had instilled a fear of motherhood, tainted her view of family, left her untrusting and guarded.
Keira had gone quiet since she'd ended her conversation with West. Luckily, it didn't sound like he was in on the conspiracy, but that hadn't improved Keira's mood.
Over the last five minutes of their drive, she'd been concentrating on the photo. At least that's what she appeared to be doing. His psychic connection to her must have intensified over the days they'd been together, because he could sense the dark shield she'd erected. And if he asked her whether she was okay one more time, she'd deck him. She'd
projected
that very warning. After that, she'd stopped projecting altogether. Put up a goddamned mental wall. The sweet, warm woman he'd made love to such a short time ago had been replaced with that stone-hard warrior.
Her hand pulled on the door handle before he'd even stopped the car. He shoved the SUV into park and grabbed her arm before she could bolt.
“Baby . . .” He waited until she looked at him, and the hollow pain in her eyes sparked an anxiety he thought he'd banished in the bedroom.
Patience. Curb the fear. Don't push. Don't crowd.
“Can you talk to me?”
“Not . . . now.” Her eyes darted away. She pulled away from his touch. “I'm . . . I'm sorry. I need some space.”
Keira climbed from the car and strode toward the front door while Luke turned off the engine and sat there with a knife in his ribs.
“Space?” he rasped in the empty car.
“Space?”
The concept of space when they'd been as close as two people could be just an hour ago struck him as absurd. Then the nagging hurt that he'd been the only one to profess love in that bedroom returned. Yes, he knew, deep in his heart, she loved him. Yes, he'd felt it. But it would have been nice to hear the words from her mouth. As hot as it was to hear her ask for more, deeper, harder, right now he'd have preferred those
other
three little words. And this space bullshit only reinforced his lingering insecurities.
Patience, he told himself as he stepped into the house. He had to be patient and understanding and supportive. She was at one of the hardest crossroads of her life, and he had to be all the things he hadn't been when she'd needed him at another crossroads. When he'd been blinded by what
he
had needed so desperately that he'd closed his fist too hard, and she'd slipped right from his grasp.
He wouldn't let this go bad again. He wouldn't.
As he crossed the threshold and shut the front door behind him, a familiar male voice sounded in the living area. Kai. “What the hell happened to you?”
“Crap,” another voice followed. Nearly as familiar as his own. Seth. The man who'd shared custody of Kat while Teague had been in prison. “Why didn't you call us sooner?”
Alyssa already had both of them taming their normally far more colorful language.
“You didn't give us much of a chance,” Teague said. “Everything's been happening so damn fast.”
“That's the way they work,” Seth said. “Faster than you can think. That's why they're still calling the fu—shots.”
“I'm fine.” Keira was in Kai's arms when Luke turned the corner.
“Whoa.” Kai released Keira and stepped back, hands up, gaze flipping between her face and Luke's. “There is one hell of a lot of sexual tension cluttering up this room right now.” He dropped his hands, pulled at the neck of his tee, and grinned at Luke. “Is it getting hot in here?”
“Shut the hell up, man.” Luke joined the group and shook Kai's hand. “You have to run around in the shower to get wet? When are you gonna gain some weight?”
Their teammate hadn't aged a damn day since Luke had last seen him a year before when he'd come to visit, but his dark hair was still too long, his once muscular body still too thin. Kai was still struggling with the aftermath of the fire—as it seemed they all were in their own way.
Luke reached over to Seth and shook his hand. He had aged. But not in physical years. Since his wife, Tara, had been shoved off that psychological edge by the bastards at DARPA, had murdered Teague's girlfriend, and helped frame him for the crime, Seth had aged in years of the soul. It showed in his hollowed eyes.
“I've gained ten pounds.” Kai flexed his bicep, which was pure muscle, since he didn't have an ounce of fat on him. “Can't you tell? Been working out. Drinking protein shakes.” He pointed at Keira, who sported a dim smile listening to their conversation. “Now that little girl doesn't look so good.”
She walked to the kitchen counter where Seth stood to hug him, then darted a look around the living room. “Where's Mateo?”
“In Kat's room,” Alyssa said from where she'd curled into one corner of the sofa. “One of Mitch's guys is in there with them. They're fine.”
One of Mitch's guys. Must have pulled in more Special Forces contacts. Which was not a good sign.
But Keira didn't listen. She headed toward the back of the house where the bedrooms were, with that nervous I-have-to-see-him-for-myself look. Luke cut her off and took her arm gently.
“Don't get him riled up,” he said in an undertone he hoped only Keira heard. “He'll sense your nerves.”
Luke tuned into the heat of her skin beneath his hand, the electric waves between them. But he heard nothing. Yep, she'd shut him out.
Patience. Curb the fear.
“I'm just going to peek.” She deliberately stepped out of reach.
Luke clenched his teeth and waited.
Like an overprotective mother hen, she peered around the doorjamb and made a little finger wave. By the lack of Mateo's voice flowering in his typical
“Thia,”
Luke knew she'd gestured to whatever bodyguard hovered, unnoticed by the kids.
She backed away from the door and passed Luke with a flick of her eyes and a brief press of her hand to his chest. Sweet. Thoughtful. Loving. A silent gesture of appreciation and acknowledgment. Apology.
Before she could pass, he grabbed her hand, closed his eyes, and pressed her palm to his mouth. She didn't pull away. As his lips lingered against her warm skin, the tips of her fingers brushed his cheek. And when he opened his eyes, he didn't have to read minds to translate the love and regret in her heart. The same look she'd given him the day she'd come to the house to say good-bye before she'd left for the academy.
He lowered her hand, but held on.
I can't lose you now.
“Please don't shut me out.”
A film shadowed the blue of her eyes. “I'm trying.”
He followed her into the living room, where everyone had gone quiet and every pair of eyes had been watching their interaction.
Teague's brows tugged in a frown, his eyes scanning Keira. “That's not what you were wearing—”
Keira stopped in her path and pointed at him. “Don't.”
Teague smirked. “Is his head out of his ass?”
“His is,” she muttered, and trudged across the room, looking about ready to punch a wall. “Mine's now screwed.”
“Mitch,” she said, turning on him as if she were about to close her hands around someone's neck and shake. “What about those things in Mateo's head? Are they going to hurt him? Can we get them out?”
“I turned the medical stuff over to Alyssa, but I did find out that these puppies”—he pointed to the coffee table, where the chip sat still wrapped in foil—“were produced at Millennium Manufacturing. They make big noise about being a private company—”
“But everyone knows they're a government contractor,” Kai finished. “And I'll give you one guess who used to be their CEO before she went back into public service.”
“Dargan,” Luke said.
“Bingo.” Kai made a gun with his fingers and shot at Luke. “Double or nothing if you can tell me who still owns big, big stock numbers in M & M. Here's a hint—it's not Dargan.”
The room went silent. Eyes skipped around. Finally, Mitch said, “Our friend, Senator Schaeffer.”
Luke scraped fingers across his scalp. “This is the kind of sh—stuff that makes people go postal.”
“I'm still tracking down the developer,” Mitch said.
“What about Mateo?” Keira asked, turning a sharp focus on Alyssa.
“I contacted a friend from medical school who went into neurology and now specializes in the treatment of spinal cord defects and injuries.” Alyssa balanced a sheaf of papers on her curled-up legs. “He doesn't believe they can be manipulated without the control center. That chip we took out of his neck.”
Keira's dark brows raised. “Believe? I can't trust Mateo's health on a belief. How can we get them out?”
Alyssa removed the reading glasses resting low on her nose. “We can't. Not without risking a lot more of his health than is at risk by leaving them in. The brain is an incredibly complex structure. As underdiscovered as the universe. There are areas that could be irreparably damaged.
“It would require extensive surgery, which always comes with incredibly high risks. It would require a specialist, which I don't even know exists beyond the person who put these in. All of Rostov's research has been confiscated or torched, so we'll never even know if that person is still alive. It's not at all feasible to take them out.”
With each statement Keira's shoulders crawled closer to her ears. “We can't just leave them in there.”
“Think of it as a bullet too near the spinal column for surgery. Didn't that happen to one of your colleagues?”
Keira rubbed her temple. “Yes, but—”
“And isn't he still fully functional? Healthy? Normal?”
“Yes, but—”
“But what?” Alyssa's doctor voice geared up. Firm, no-nonsense, I've-had-enough-of-your-bullshit. “Would you rather see Mateo as a vegetable, Keira, for your own peace of mind?”
“Of course not.” She dropped her hands and started pacing. “That's a stupid thing to say.”

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