Dream Shard (14 page)

“Pull up!” he yelled at the pilot.

The man pulled back on the controls and the bird rose, nose first into the dark sky. Behind them, a fireball flashed.

“Shit!” someone yelled. The pilot angled the bird in a wide arc that would bring them back around to face the crash site. A second fireball took out the helicopter on their left.

“Holy Christ!”

The shock wave sent their bird spinning. The pilot fought to control the bird. “Brace for impact! Brace for—”

They touched down with a jolt. The bird bounced, the straps of his seat harness holding his body in the seat. Something exploded above his head and he watched the rotors go flying away from the aircraft.

He pulled the emergency release on the door, jerking it with a rush of adrenaline as the need to escape the burning aircraft filled him. He pulled his side arm as the door disconnected from the body of the aircraft. Thompson came out of the side door of the aircraft, giving cover to Devon. There was a whiz and pop before the Ranger jerked and fell over sideways, his heart punctured by a bullet. Devon grabbed his wrist, pulling him away from the crash site even as he felt the man dying.

He felt his heart slowing, slowing until it stopped. In the next moment, Thompson’s consciousness dissipated, leaving only a body behind.

Devon only had a moment to lament his death before something slammed into his skull. He felt the vertebrae in his neck compress as pain washed down his body like a bucket of water being dumped on him. He sucked in a deep breath, fighting to fend off the blackness, but a second blow landed before he kicked out.

His foot connected with whomever was attacking him. Devon felt the bottom of his boot sink into the midsection of a human being and kicked through to toss that person back.

Devon turned, his gun in hand but his vision tilting off center. He could feel his brain surrendering to the blinding pain. The sound of a river reached him and his last bits of rational thought as he discharged his weapon into the man getting to his feet. The impact flung his assailant back as Devon holstered his gun. He was moving in slow motion, unconsciousness coming toward him like a freight train. He fell over into the water and cussed, his last bit of thought was…he was going to drown when he passed out.

Devon unhooked Garrick’s hand. His C.O. had dug his fingers into Devon’s shoulder as the vision took complete command of him. The major blinked and leaned back against the doorframe while he recovered from sharing the link.

Most non-psychics ended up drained after an encounter. Garrick blinked before pulling his body away from the support of the wall. His face was set in a hard mask, but Devon could feel the anger churning inside him.

“I needed to know,” he said at last.

“You’d have been killed too, if you’d been there,” Devon offered.

His C.O. didn’t want to accept that, but Devon stared him down. “You’d have been killed, and I think that when I get my memory back, I’m going to be damned glad you’re still here.”

Garrick offered him his hand. “It’s good to have you back, Devon.”

Devon shook his hand, enjoying the rush of gratitude he felt filling the other man. Gratitude to find Devon among the living and an easing of the tension between them.

Garrick Gennaro no longer doubted who he was.

“Now take me to where Kalin is.”

His C.O. hooked his hands into his belt. “Why?”

Devon crossed his arms over his chest.

“I can see it’s important to you, Devon, but you don’t remember what happened the last time you got mixed up with a civilian. I’d be a poor friend if I didn’t warn you to stay away from that pretty little nurse.”

“I remember Heather. A lot about her. More than I do about you.” Devon felt doubt creep around the edges of his determination to find Kalin. He shook his head. “Kalin is different. She isn’t afraid of my skills.”

Surprise registered on Garrick’s face. Devon saw it as well as felt it. “In that case, the sooner we take care of business, the sooner you can connect with her.”

“But you still think it’s a bad idea.”

Garrick shrugged on his way through the secured section of the medical facility. “Grace was the first one of our Operatives to get married. In her case, it’s worked out great.”

“In my case, it was a disaster,” Devon replied instantly, the memory just there.

Garrick pushed open a door that led outside the building. A blast of fresh air hit Devon in the face, making him realize how stuffed up he was feeling. The concrete of the building had stifled his senses, but now they were shifting into focus. His reach tripled and he felt Kalin.

Garrick was walking a different direction.

“She’s on the north side,” Devon declared.

His C.O. turned with a crisp motion. “You aren’t going anywhere without a unit. Not with someone out there trying to get their hands on you. Kalin is secure. You’re not.”

Devon cussed. “So I’d be an idiot to have her join me while my back is open.”

Garrick gave him a curt nod. Devon wanted to argue, but there was something chewing on him that just made him realize that Garrick was correct. He reached out, stroking Kalin mentally. For a moment, he connected with her, the link strong and stable. He stopped, absorbed in the link before he frowned and grunted.

“Feed her.”

Garrick turned and looked at him like he’d lost his mind. “What?”

“She’s hungry.”

Garrick was ready to make a comment about waiter duty being beneath his rank before he narrowed his eyes. “That’s a very clear link you have with her.”

Devon nodded. He cut his connection with Garrick, not needing the other man to feel just how deeply Kalin affected him.

He wasn’t sure he wanted to admit it to himself.

But it was there. Pulsing like a living part of himself. She was on the other side of the wall he put up to shield himself from the outside world. Just there, without any struggle to infiltrate his highly skilled mind. He didn’t care for how vulnerable it made him feel. But he liked even less being separated from her. Garrick was giving him sound advice about forgetting her.

But it didn’t change the way he felt.

Benton County, Campbell mountain top.

Beth Jacobs kissed her husband goodbye before climbing into the Suburban her family was loaded into. Jason Jacobs watched it pull out with a second truck on its tail. Both were civilian-looking vehicles, but that was only camouflage. The windows were bullet-resistant glass and the body armored. Beneath the hood was double the horsepower and an all-terrain four-wheel drive. The men in the truck might look like civilians, but a closer glance showed just how combat ready they were.

“Beth is a better sport than I deserve,” Grace Campbell said.

Jacobs looked down as Grace came up beside him. “She’s a better wife than I deserve.”

Grace made eye contact with him. “No, she isn’t. But she is a very good sport about always making way for my schedule.”

She looked around the forest plot of land that belonged to her husband. Her abilities were enhanced among the trees.

“I didn’t tell Beth she might not see her house again.”

Grace didn’t care for how her C.O.’s comment made her feel. “Beth is no fool. She’s the daughter of a general. She knows what tightening down a post looks like.”

Brice Campbell came into sight, the tan uniform of the sheriff’s department setting him apart from the forest camouflage the Rangers wore. But the gun on his hip fit right in.

“Something tells me my husband isn’t going to be very cooperative when it comes to leaving.”

Jason Jacobs snorted. “He may not have a choice. None of us may. The trail is stone cold on those guys who were following Devon. If they were working alone, we’re fine. If not, we’re all moving.”

Grace cringed but held her emotions behind a practiced façade. The last five years had been the most stable of her life, but she’d always known that she might be uprooted at any time. The only reason she was living off post was because her abilities were heightened among the trees. She was a psychic bloodhound and worth a fortune on the black market.

So was Devon.

“Jared should go back to post until this thing with Devon is finished.”

She narrowed her eyes but Jacobs was waiting for her to protest. The fact that he already knew she was entitled made it irrelevant to voice her complaint. Devon was unstable and it was possible he had mercenaries just waiting for him to resurface. Keeping her child near was irresponsible.

“I’ll get him.”

Jacobs gave her a nod.

“And I’ll tell Brice,” she finished.

Her husband had always promised to accept the harsher points of her life. It looked like he’d have a chance to prove that today.

Time crawled by inside the small room.

Meals began arriving every four hours, but there was still nothing to do but read the Bible and sleep. Without a clock, she had no sense of night or day. The air was kept the same temperature and started smelling stale after her third meal.

She sighed when she heard the chirp of the security lock right on cue. She’d devoured the first meal, but now, with little to do, she felt sluggish, and each tray received less of her attention when it arrived.

But the men who appeared in the open doorway didn’t have a tray with them. They were dressed perfectly for combat. The ends of their pants were tucked into the tops of their boots. Every piece of clothing was black, from the undershirts peeking through the buttons of their shirts to the hoods on their heads.

“Ms. Smith?”

She nodded and laid the Bible on the small end table.

“You will accompany us.”

She started to stand but paused when one of them came right into the room. He was huge and intimidated her just by sheer size. She froze and he reached down to clasp his hand around her wrist. He pulled something off his belt and secured it around her wrist with a sharp click. His companion held up some sort of remote unit. There was an infrared flash and another chirp from the wristband before the remote was hung off the second guy’s belt.

“What is this thing?”

The man inside the room was extending his arm toward the open doorway like some gallant knight, but the overly polite gesture didn’t impress her. She held up her wrist.

“Explain please.”

“The major will explain.”

He hooked her biceps and propelled her through the door without further hesitation. She stiffened up but ended up keeping pace with the guy because the alternative was to remain locked in her dreary little room.

That wasn’t high on her list.

There were security scanners at the front door of the building she’d been housed in. They looked a lot like something from a shopping mall, designed to catch shoplifters, and the moment she got within a few feet, they lit up. The man escorting her flashed an identification card at the man sitting at a desk. They exchanged salutes before she was swept out the door.

“So it’s a security tag.”

Her escort didn’t comment. They continued on until the man holding her arm released her to open the door of a desert-painted Hummer. The interior was purely functional, all fashion abandoned. Instead of a seatbelt, there was a full shoulder harness to hold her in the seat. Her escort actually began to lift one of the straps to help her into it.

“I’ve got this, buddy. Really.”

She pushed her arms through the shoulder straps and fit the buckles into the latch near the center of her chest. The rest of the vehicle was a feast for the curious. And she was downright nosy. Different computer screens with control panels that just made her want to see what they controlled.

Devon would likely tell her not to ask.

Well, Devon wasn’t here.

She bit her lower lip, trying to order herself not to lament his absence. It wasn’t like she had any reason to expect Devon to stick around. She’d known since the moment she encountered him that he wasn’t part of her world. They would have stolen moments, nothing else.

The Hummer pulled out, giving her a chance to investigate her surroundings. The sun was setting but there was enough light to let her see the military post. Rows of razor wire decorated most of the fences. There were multiple check points manned by men cradling high-powered rifles. They watched from behind mirrored sunglasses while they kept their stances wide.

The driver headed away from the buildings. All of the structures were thick walled. Built to endure blasts. The windows were set back from the outer walls, when there were windows, and reinforced with steel grates. Beyond the buildings there were hangars and landing pads. The driver turned and stopped at a security checkpoint before driving through several landing areas marked with large circles.

Kalin leaned closer to the window as the Hummer bore her closer to several helicopters. She’d seen several of the air ambulances at the hospital when they were receiving a trauma patient, but these aircraft bore little resemblance to them. They were midnight black with larger guns attached to their sides. Even the windows were tinted, giving them a sinister look. The men getting them ready were also dressed in black. With the sun sinking below the horizon, it looked like some scene out of an apocalyptic movie.

Only it was very real.

The Hummer stopped and someone opened her door. The evening breeze blew in to tease her nose with the faint hint of jet fuel. She opened the harness and stepped onto the asphalt, Devon’s warning fading into the past as she enjoyed the sight of the helicopters. It felt like she was stepping across a line, venturing into the classified world that he’d warned her about.

But it wasn’t like she could close her eyes.

That was the last thing she wanted to do.

“Major Gennaro, ma’am.”

Kalin looked up and found her would-be interrogator standing exactly two paces in front of her. He wore a pair of mirrored shades over his eyes but she could literally feel the man’s gaze trying to peel her like an orange.

“A name at last. How lovely.”

“I’m in command of this unit.”

Right on cue, one of her escorts handed the remote unit to the major. He pointed it at her wrist and depressed a button. Her wrist chirped.