In Darkness Reborn (12 page)

“Why do you want to know?” He cocked his head to one side and studied her face.

“We spend a great deal of time with just the two of us. I think I have a right to know what kind of man you are.”

“I've been here for some time, Lacey. Why all of a sudden are you worried about your safety? Have I in any way threatened you?” His eyebrows snapped together, the first sign of real temper he'd ever directed at her.

“No, but—”

“Is this about that day in the tunnel? If I hadn't killed those men, Trahern or Bane would have. Would that have been easier for you to accept, one human killing another?” He inched closer, his anger coming at her in waves.

“No, it's not about that.” But it was, and about so much more.

“Are you afraid I'll hurt your precious brother? If you'll recall, he's always been the one to start the fight, not me.”

He started to reach toward her, the sudden motion causing her to flinch. She knew he wouldn't hurt her, but he'd been pushed as far as he was going to be pushed.

His hands clamped onto her upper arms, but not hard enough to leave bruises. “I have given you no reason to fear me, Lacey. You want answers to your question. Fine.” He pulled her closer, staring down at her with his pale eyes. “I have killed until the thought of it makes me sick, and I have seen my people die on your Paladins' swords for no reason other than the color of their eyes.”

She wanted to protest the horror of the picture he painted with his words. “I didn't think—”

“That's right, you
didn't
think. Nobody does. All our two peoples know is endless death and butchery.” He let go of her as suddenly as he'd grabbed her.

The grief in his voice melted into her heart. As he started for the door, she said, “Barak, stop.”

She thought he'd ignore her, but he paused to look back at her. Something in the heat of his expression gave her the courage to say, “Come back.”

“Why? So you can burden me with more of your questions? Why don't you seek out your brother instead and ask him how many of my kind he has spitted on the end of his sword, or why he's so anxious to kill more?” He took a shuddering breath. “At least I walked away from the madness.”

He resumed his march to the door, but she caught up with him before he could open it. He stared at her hand on his arm. “Touch me at your own risk, Lacey. I have given you time to adjust to what happened between us in the tunnel, but I grow weary of waiting. Either step back or accept the consequences.”

God help her, she couldn't retreat. This was the wrong man, the wrong time, the wrong everything, but she wasn't going to let him walk away.

She slid her hand up his arm to his shoulder, feeling the strength in his muscles and liking it. Sliding between him and the door, she smiled, even if it was a bit shaky. Some of the tension in his stance faded as he wrapped her in his arms, his mouth crushing down on hers, a warrior claiming his prize.

His kiss gentled, content to let the heat build at its own pace. Lacey teased his tongue with her own, smiling when he groaned with deep pleasure. She reached up and tugged the strip of leather off his ponytail. He murmured his approval as she fisted her fingers in his shoulder-length hair. It felt like rough silk to the touch.

His hands were doing a little exploring of their own, trailing down her ribs to her waist and on to trace the curve of her hips. When he cupped her bottom with both hands and squeezed, she thought she was going to come right then. Breathing was becoming difficult. He broke off the kiss long enough to pick her up and set her down on the nearest counter.

Without asking permission, he parted her knees and stepped between them. The counter was the right height to bring the center of her body in direct contact with his. When he flexed his hips, letting her feel the powerful strength of his need, she moaned and pulled him closer for a long, hot kiss.

His hand slipped between them to test the weight of her breasts. She was no innocent, but nothing she'd ever experienced had prepared her for such intensity from a lover. She wanted him to take her right then, right there on the lab counter. It was crazy and risky and she didn't care. But when she reached for the buttons on his shirt, he stilled her hands.

His breathing was ragged. “Lacey, we can't, not here.”

He was right, but that didn't make it easy to hear. He rested his forehead against hers as he lifted her hands up to sprinkle a few light kisses across her knuckles. At least he was only banking the fire, not trying to extinguish it altogether.

“I want you, Lacey. I spend far too many hours thinking about how it would be to hold you naked in my arms as I pleasure you every way I can think of. The thought of taking you makes me
ache
.” His silver eyes held hers prisoner.

The image had her demanding his kiss again. When she tugged him closer, he came willingly.

But then he said, “But before we go any farther, you have to make sure this is what you really want. I won't take a lover who is embarrassed to be seen with me in public, or who only takes me to her bed when she's sure that no one will know.”

His words cut through to her heart, even though his intention was to protect them both. He was right. Kissing him in a fit of temper or even to offer comfort was one thing. Letting everyone in the organization—not to mention her brother—know that she'd invited their enemy into her bed would be a disaster.

He must have read her answer in her eyes, because he stepped away, giving her one more measuring look as he left the lab, letting the door swing shut behind him. She'd done the right thing; she knew that for a fact.

So why did it hurt so much?

The gym door opened. Barak picked up the sword he'd chosen from the rack and turned to face his opponent. He wasn't sure if he was relieved or angry that Penn Sebastian wasn't alone. Evidently Devlin felt that one of them needed a babysitter for this first practice session.

“Barak,” Devlin said by way of greeting.

Penn glared at Barak and remained silent. Fine. Barak's encounter with Lacey back in the lab had left him irritable as hell. There was no better target for his temper than her jerk of a brother.

Devlin stripped off his shirt and tossed it down in the corner. Penn did the same, so Barak followed suit. The gym was hot and would only grow more uncomfortable as the afternoon wore on.

As usual, Devlin took charge. “I started Penn on a weight routine yesterday to help build up the strength in his arms. But he'll also need help learning to respond with his off hand.”

Barak nodded in agreement before starting a series of stretches to warm up his muscles. After a few seconds Devlin and Penn stopped their own warm-ups to watch. Barak continued, letting the death dance absorb some of his anger. A fighter who let his emotions overrule his concentration stood a good chance of being hurt or killed, even in a practice match. After a bit, the other two resumed their own workouts, leaving him to finish undisturbed.

Barak ignored Penn and spoke to Devlin. “Do you want him working mostly with his right hand, or should he concentrate on his left?”

“He needs both.”

“
He
is right here, Bane. If the Other has questions about me, I'll answer them.”

“His name is Barak, Penn. Use his name or shut up. Barak has moves that I can't hope to duplicate. Maybe if you'd spend less time being an asshole and more time watching him, you might pick up a few tips.”

“I know how to kill his kind, Bane. That's the only tip I need.” Penn picked up his sword in his right hand with a belligerent look on his face.

Barak didn't know what kind of game Bane was playing by pitting Penn against him, but he didn't like it. “I do not need this. I'm leaving.”

Devlin promptly planted himself in Barak's path. “I don't give a damn what you need or don't need. The deal is that you will earn your keep around here, and the Regents have left it up to me to decide exactly what that means. I've decided that it means you'll teach Penn to fight left-handed. Tomorrow I might decide differently, but you're not walking out of here until I say you can.”

Penn sneered, “And if I refuse to work with him? Will you send his ass back across the barrier where he belongs, or kill him like you should have in the first place?”

“Enough!” Devlin let loose a roundhouse punch that sent Penn stumbling backwards into the nearest wall. “Pick up your sword and do what Barak says.”

He stomped out of the gym, leaving Barak and Penn to fend for themselves. Did he trust them that much, or had they pushed him so far that he didn't really care if they killed each other?

The idea was tempting. But as angry as he was with Lacey at the moment, Barak still could not bring himself to kill her brother. For her sake, and not Devlin's, he would teach Penn what he could.

Barak switched his sword to his left hand and held it up in a mock salute. “So, shall we kill each other and simplify Bane's life, or continue to aggravate him by surviving this little farce of his?”

Penn stared at his right hand as he opened and closed it a couple of times, each time forcing it closer into the correct grip. It obviously hurt him, but he seemed determined to make it work. Then he switched hands and held up his sword, trying to mimic the same grace that he had with his right.

“Bring it on, Other. I'm ready.”

T
he drinks were cold, which was all Barak could find to like about the dingy neighborhood bar. Glancing at Penn, he wondered which of them was more surprised at ending up sharing a booth and a beer.

Back in the gym, they'd worn each other out with blunted weapons. It had been some time since he'd served as an instructor, but the old habits were still there. He'd challenged Penn when he'd shown progress, and he'd used the flat side of the blade to correct him when he'd gotten careless or clumsy.

Afterward, when they'd been leaving the building, Penn had mentioned he was meeting someone at the bar right up the street. The comment hadn't exactly been an invitation, but when they'd reached the bar, Penn had offered to buy Barak a cold one.

Barak wasn't sure what the Paladin was up to, but one afternoon of swordplay did not mean they were friends, especially if Penn ever found out what Barak had been doing with his sister. Barak leaned back in the booth and took another long drink of his beer. The cold liquid slid down his throat, easing his thirst but doing nothing to erase the taste of Lacey's kiss or the memory of how the fullness of her breast had fit his hand.

His body stirred in memory of her sweet, hot response to his touch. Maybe he'd been a fool not to take what she'd offered, but she deserved better than a quick tussle on a lab counter. They both did. But if he'd blown his one chance to couple with her, he'd never forgive himself.

Penn was too busy watching the door to pay much attention to Barak. Who was coming that had the volatile Paladin on edge? Penn's fingers drummed a relentless beat on the tabletop as he sat up a little taller each time the door opened to afford him a view of the latest arrival. After he slumped back down in the corner of the booth for the third time, Barak drained his beer and set it down.

“So who are we waiting for?”

Maybe Penn would answer; more likely, he'd tell Barak it was none of his damn business. Before Penn decided which he'd do, the door opened again.

“He's here.”

A balding, middle-aged man paused inside the doorway, probably waiting for his eyes to adjust to the dim interior of the bar. After a few seconds, he spotted Penn waving at him from the back. He started forward, his steps faltering when he realized that Penn wasn't alone. He pasted an insincere smile on his face as he approached the booth.

Sliding in next to Penn, he nodded in Barak's direction. “Sorry I'm late, but our departmental meeting ran overtime.” Rather reluctantly, he held his hand out. “I'm Ben from IT. You must be that Barak fellow everybody's been talking about.”

“I must be.” Barak shook the man's hand. Was it fear or something else that had the man's palms sweating?

Something about the man teased at Barak's senses. He hadn't seen the man before, but there was something about him that was familiar. He closed his eyes briefly and drew in a slow, deep breath, tasting the air surrounding the booth. He'd smelled the same aftershave in the lab when he'd found that his notes had been shuffled through and left out of order. He met Ben's nervous gaze and smiled slightly.

It wouldn't hurt to prod a little. “You seem familiar, Ben. Have we met before? Perhaps in the geology lab?”

“No!” Ben immediately realized he'd overreacted to a simple question. “Sorry, I didn't mean that to come out the way it sounded. It's been a long day, and I guess I'm more stressed than I realized. I should have said that I haven't been into the research wing in months.” He pulled a handkerchief out of his hip pocket and dabbed at the sweat on his forehead. “How about I buy the next round?”

Penn had been watching the interchange with interest. “That would be great. After that, though, Barak and I need to hit the road.”

Why would Penn make it sound as if he and Barak had plans together? Barak didn't know anything about Penn's personal life, but it seemed unlikely that he and this Ben fellow were good friends. As a rule, Paladins hung out with other Paladins, especially when they were on the wrong side of too many deaths. Barak had to wonder if Penn suspected Ben was up to something.

Like stealing the blue garnets from Barak's world? Barak accepted the second beer and studied Ben as he and Penn got into a long-winded discussion about the Mariners' chances of taking their division. Barak had yet to develop an interest for the sports the humans seemed to be addicted to.

Lacey wore the occasional T-shirt with a team logo emblazoned across her chest and he always admired the snug fit of the shirt, though he knew little about the team it stood for. Perhaps it would be wise to study the various sports in greater detail in order to fit into society a little better. Maybe he could coax her into taking him to a game or two.

But right now, Penn had almost finished his second beer. It was time for him to do the same. As Barak lifted the bottle to his lips, Penn slid out of the booth with no warning.

“It's time.” The Paladin nodded in Ben's direction. “Thanks for the beer, Ben.”

Then he walked away, leaving Barak to follow or not. Since Barak had no desire to be left behind, he took one last swig of his beer and set the bottle down on the table. “I thank you as well.”

If Ben was surprised to be abandoned, he hid it well. “You're welcome. Any time.”

Somehow Barak doubted that, but it didn't matter. At least now he was reasonably sure that Ben was the one who had been sneaking around the geology lab. The problem was what to do with that information.

Outside, he spotted Penn standing a short distance down the street. What was going on? Penn was up to something, and there was only one way to find out what.

Barak deliberately crowded Penn and demanded, “When I first started working with your sister, why did you send Ben to search the lab?”

Penn had been leaning against the brick front of the tavern, but he immediately straightened, his fists clenched at his sides. “What the hell are you talking about, Other? I never sent him anywhere. I hardly know the man.”

The temper rang true. So Ben had been exploring on his own. Again, why?

“Right after I started working in the lab, someone went through my papers. Until just now, I didn't know who it was,” Barak replied, allowing a small smile to soften his words. “I even thought it might have been you.”

Penn's blue eyes narrowed. “Well, it wasn't. How the hell do you know it was Ben?”

“I recognized his scent: sickly sweet cologne mixed with too much sweat.” He doubted the Paladin would believe him, but that was his problem.

To his surprise, Penn nodded. “We need to move on before he decides to leave.”

Barak fell into step beside Penn as they headed up the block.

“He's been hanging around me lately for no good reason.” Penn kicked a small rock, sending it flying out into the street. “He wants something.”

“It would seem that he's interested in both of us.” And it had to do with the blue stones, but he couldn't tell Penn that yet. He only had Penn's word that he wasn't involved in whatever Ben was doing. He'd have to check with Devlin, since the Paladin leader was determined to limit the number of people who knew about the ongoing theft from Barak's world.

Penn continued on in silence. Finally, he stopped and turned on Barak. “If you're doing anything that would endanger or hurt my sister, you're a dead man.”

Then he walked away, leaving Barak staring after him.

“We're almost there.”

Lacey couldn't keep the excitement—tinged with relief—out of her voice, because sharing the ride with Barak had made the interior of the truck seem crowded and small. She loved studying all of the volcanoes in Washington, but Mount St. Helens was special. She glanced at her silent companion, wondering what he was thinking as they drove the switchback road that would take them to the visitors' center closest to the mountain.

She frowned, noting the tension in his expression. “Are you all right, Barak? I hope you're not getting altitude sickness again.”

He shook his head slightly, all the time keeping his eyes firmly on the road and the periodic glimpses of the mountain. “I'll be fine.” He glanced down the steep drop to the valley below. “After seeing the places that have been replanted, I'm surprised that so much of the area immediately around the mountain is still so barren. It hurts my soul to see it.”

She tried to see how it all must look to him, and she nodded. “They show a film of the 1980 explosion in the visitors' center, if you'd like to see it. It doesn't last long, but it's pretty amazing.”

“I'll think about it.”

He craned his head to look behind them, once again letting the silence settle between them. Although he wasn't given to long conversations, he'd been unusually quiet since leaving the lab. It bothered her more than she cared to admit, because she suspected that it was due to what had happened between them.

Had he also had trouble sleeping, thinking too much about how wonderful that intense burst of passion had felt? Even when she had finally dozed off, her sleep had been filled with images of Barak's silver eyes and serious smile. Not quite the stuff for soothing dreams. Though she rarely bothered with makeup, today she'd needed some to hide the dark circles under her eyes.

The mountain directly ahead reminded her of Barak in some ways. For the moment, the volcano had only a few plumes of steam rising off the peak, a quiet reminder of the power and heat hiding behind that deceptive façade. But no one who lived in the Northwest would forget that the mountain was capable of violence. And Barak, for such a reserved man, was capable of some pretty intense moments.

The last one had left her shaken for hours afterward. As a result, she'd spent a good part of last night debating the wisdom of bringing him along today. But she wasn't a coward, and if they couldn't be lovers, then somehow they'd have to learn how to be friends.

She made the last turn that led into the parking lot at the end of the road. “Let's get the equipment unloaded, and then we can decide if we have time to watch the movie.”

Barak looked like a statue, frozen in position as he stared out at the mountain. Finally, he closed his eyes and took a handful of slow, deep breaths.

“Are you all right?” She'd already asked him that once, but he was starting to worry her.

Without opening his eyes, he snapped, “Quit hovering. I have already said I'm fine, Lacey. I'm just adjusting to the mountain.”

Adjusting? What did he mean by that? She could be snarly, too. “Okay, fine. You just sit there and do whatever it is you need to do. Meanwhile I'll unpack the gear I promised to leave for the university students to disperse on their next hike.”

But when she reached the back of the truck, Barak was already there to help her lift the equipment down to the ground. When they both reached for the same box, his hands covered hers. Once again a jolt of awareness shot up her nerves, making her jerk away. On the surface he seemed to either be unaware of the reaction his touch caused, or else he didn't care. Then she met his gaze and knew she was wrong. He'd felt it, all right, and was fighting the same rush of heat that she was.

“I'm sorry, Barak.” Not for the accidental touch, but that neither of them could afford to give into temptation.

He went on unloading the boxes as if she hadn't said a word. That was fine with her. Really. “I'm going to go borrow a dolly from the rangers. I'll be right back.”

When she walked away, she could have sworn that she could feel his gaze following her each step. When she reached the door of the Center, she risked one quick glance back to check. His back was toward her as he lifted another box from the truck bed. His dedication to his duties was to be admired; at least one of them seemed able to cope with the attraction between them.

Barak wondered at the number of people who were willing to venture so close to the mountain. Humans might not have his affinity for stone, but no one could look at the surrounding area and not recognize the volcano's taste for destruction. He stood near the seismographs, their needles etching the ground movements in ink. Only a few minutes before, the needles had swung wildly from side to side, indicating a slight quake. He'd held his hand out, tracing the energy back to its source. Murmuring under his breath, he siphoned off some of the tension and spread it out over a greater area. After a heartbeat, maybe two, the needles slowed their wild dance and resumed a more sedate pace.

Barak leaned against a handy counter, pretending an interest in the items displayed there as he caught his breath. It had been a long time since he'd last worked stone, and then it had been in his world. As he still struggled to learn this new world, even the simplest of techniques—like soothing the momentary spasm in the stone—took a lot out of him.

Even so, it felt good to stretch muscles he hadn't used in a while. Once he caught his breath, he looked around for Lacey. He spotted her standing across the room, talking to a group of children about a “spider,” a clever piece of machinery vulcanologists used to monitor the mountain. This particular piece of machinery had been damaged when Mount St. Helens had been in one of her moods.