Parallel Desire (15 page)

"I
don't need a partner
complicating things, and I sure as hell don't want a human going in with me." Jake eyeballed his former brother-in-law across the table, unable to believe what the human had just suggested.

For the past three days they'd been going over details, strategizing together, but this suggestion that Chris go in with him was a brand-new one. Besides, he'd already heard the same thing from Shelby—at least on those few occasions when he actually had time to swing by the medical complex and see her. He didn't like the idea any better coming from Chris than he did from Shelby, the notion that he needed a partner of some kind on the op.

"You need someone to watch your back," Chris argued, kicking back in his seat. "It's not enough that we'll have the team in place nearby."

"Then we bring along a Refarian, a group of them—no way a human goes in."

Chris coughed awkwardly. "I figured you'd have more respect for my species, seeing as how you were married to Hope for all those years."

Heat rushed into Jake's face, and he had to dig both fists into his thighs to stop the sudden onslaught of memories Chris had just unearthed. Being around Chris was downright hellish; not the man's fault, but still an absolute fact. Too many memories ran between them, the pull of the emotions almost enough to yank Jake under.

"Got no problem with humans," was all he grunted.

"But you're saying that I wouldn't be strong enough to hold my own."

Damn you, Christopher,
he wanted to shout,
you're a first-class hard-ass, and don't I know it
. But he kept the past out of it. "A human's got no business stepping into that place willingly," was all he said. "Far too dangerous."

"I'm not just a human, Tierny—I'm a special agent with the FBI. I'm trained to deal with scenarios just like this
one."

"No, you're
not
trained for what I'm facing. You don't truly understand what our enemies are capable of, or of what they love to do to your kind."

"And to yours," Chris added softly. "So it's a risk for both of us. Probably more of one for you, considering who you're going to be impersonating. You need some serious backup when you go in."

"You do realize those
vlksai
freaks could easily snatch you? That if they sniffed out who you really are, they'd take special pleasure in torturing you, then serving you up on a platter to Raedus … or maybe they'd just do the body-jump routine, snuffing you out in one second flat." He shook his head. "Hope would never forgive me if you got killed on my watch. So you don't go in. Period."

Chris's fair face reddened, a flash of hot anger filling his eyes. "I'm the one running this squad."

Jake slammed a fist down on the meeting table, the wood frame jarring loudly. "But it's
our
war, a war you humans are just beginning to figure out," he said, his voice rising. "You may be heading the squad, but we work together, man."

"Exactly. So you don't call the shots, and you sure as
hell
don't tell me I won't go in on my own goddamned
assignment!"

Jake threw his hands in the air. "Then it's your death warrant, buddy, not mine. And you won't take me down with you. You insist on this, and I don't go on the op at all."

Harper cocked back in his seat, a crooked grin forming on his lips.

"
What
?"
Jake demanded hotly.

"Nothing." Chris laughed. "Just that Hope told me that's what you'd say."

Jake glanced away. "Yeah, your twin knows me pretty damned well. Kind of fucked up, isn't it?"

"She still cares about you." The words were quiet, a sudden point of stillness between them.

Jake pressed his eyes shut. "Don't go there. Please? Just don't …"

"She wanted me to tell you that."

Turning away, Jake tried to stop Chris from going on. "Let's talk about the op. We've got too much to plan to talk about the past."

"She wanted to know about Shelby because she thinks that medic has the hots for you." Harper coughed significantly. "And, uh, yeah … enough on that one, I guess."

"Harper, you are one stubborn son-of-a-bitch! Let it go, man. Let It. Go."

Chris didn't say another word, and the room fell completely silent—not even the rustling of papers or a cough punctuated the deafening stillness. Jake slowly turned in his seat and discovered that Chris's gray eyes, so like his twin's, were fixed coolly on him.

"Tierny, you got a problem with me?" Chris asked in a quiet voice.

"No problem at all." Jake really did not want to have this conversation; in fact, he desperately hoped to avoid it. He dropped his head, staring at the open file in front of him. "I'm on edge, I guess, ready for Friday night … ready to get in the game."

"I'm pretty damn sure that's not it." Harper's voice was tense, angry. His brother-in-law had always been a hothead.

Jake sighed, shoving the papers aside. "So tell me, then. Tell me what you think is wrong with me. Because I know you're going to do it whether I want you to or not." Jake gestured at his chest like he was urging Harper to take the first punch. "So just go on. Have at me."

It was spooky how easy it was to fall into a sparring match with Chris, how familiar it was dropping into old patterns. The last time he'd seen him had been five years ago, a few days after Hope's death.

Chris eyed him hard. "I think you hated my sorry ass in that future of yours, that's what. And so you still hate me now."

"Chris …"

Harper folded both arms across his chest. "I'm right, aren't I? Were we enemies? Or did you just dislike me on principle?"

Jake shoved back from the table, making for the door. "You don't know jack about the world I came from."

Chris bolted to his feet, instantly between Jake and the exit. "Every time you're around me, you act like I've got the goddamned plague," he said in a low voice. "I know that much."

Jake held up his hands. "No problems between us, man. Nothing wrong at all. Totally copacetic."

"Maybe it isn't about the future, then."

"It's not."

"Maybe you just resent that a human's running this squad?" Chris raked his gaze over Jake, his eyes searching for something.

A part of him knows everything. Senses what happened between us, even if he didn't live it.…
"Already told you that joint cooperation was a good idea—I said that in our very first meeting about all of this. Trust me, it took way too long for our species to work together in that other timeline. Interspecies teamwork is our best bet for the future, and you're the man for the job, Harper. I'm not complaining at all."

Chris nodded. "Thank you."

"No problem." Jake made to step around the other man, but Chris blocked him. The human's brown eyebrows lowered intensely, and Jake had a serious feeling he wasn't going to like what came next. "What?" Jake demanded.

"You do realize I interrogate people for a living. That reading body language and tells and all that shit is what I'm trained to do."

"Your point?" Jake's chest began to ache, a gnawing depth of pain from his past choking upward, threatening to steal his breath.
Gods, Chris, leave it alone, man. Just leave it be.…

"You're lying about what happened between us in your world. And you're not even doing a good job of it." Chris released a loud, bitter laugh. "So, Tierny, I'm gonna ask it again—what's your problem with me?"

Jake turned and walked to the far side of the room, bracing his hands on the fireplace mantel. "I don't want to do this right now. I really just don't, so if you're smart, human, you'll back off." Jake's eyes slid shut, and he heard voices from a past he'd done his level best to forget.

"You know, it'd be a whole lot easier to work together if you'd let me know the score."

Jake spun back around. "The score? The godsdamned fucking score? I married your sister. I spent the five happiest years of my life married to her, and she died on my watch. That's the score, Harper. Does it make more sense to you now?"

"I already knew all of that."

"But you don't remember any of it—I do. And I remember how you shut me down after that. We'd been close, you get it? You and me." He waved between them significantly. "You were my brother in every sense of the word, and then—"

"And then?"

"It was my fault. All my fault that she was murdered. And things got ugly after that. Way, way ugly, and I still carry all those memories, all that shit around inside this big, dumb skull of mine."

"All right, all right." Harper planted both hands on his hips, staring at the floor between them. "You're angry at me for things I did … I do … in the future."

Jake's fists tightened at his sides as he remembered how Chris had jumped him the day after Hope's death. Chris had been irrational, over the edge—and he'd probably said things he always wished he hadn't. "You were the angry one, my friend."

"What did I do?"

"You blamed me for Hope dying. For Leisa never being born. You told me our friendship was over, done, and that you'd never forgive me … and then you just left. You never even resigned from your post, never told Jared you were done. You just"—Jake made a waving motion with his hand—"vanished, disappeared … and you never came back."

Chris stared at the floor. "That explains it, then."

"Pardon?"

"It explains why you're so pissed off at me all the time. And it sounds like I deserve it."

Jake groaned. "Would you just let this one go? Please, could you just leave it alone?"

Chris didn't say anything at first, and when Jake glanced up he discovered that he had extended his hand.

"What are we shaking on?" Jake stared down in confusion.

"On a fresh start." Chris kept his hand extended. "I mean, it's kinda strange to apologize for something I didn't exactly do, but I want to work with you, Tierny. And I respect you. If I blamed you for Hope's murder …" His voice trailed off; he coughed, then finally continued. "You know how close she and I are," was all he said, then shrugged. "I'm really sorry, man. Sorry for everything that happened to you."

Jake reached slowly for Chris's hand, almost afraid to take it. The whole moment between them was just too messed up to begin with—but this? Chris trying to make up for his future self's grief-induced madness? It was almost more than Jake could handle.

They shook hands briefly, Jake pulling away first. "Thanks, man."

Chris walked toward the table. "Good. Now let's get down to brass tacks on how Friday night's going to unfold."

J
ared lengthened his stride
, determined to get in a few more laps around the track that circled the top of the hangar deck before his upcoming linkup with the elders. He was dripping with sweat, his body pushed to its limits, but still he had to force himself to go harder. Faster. Longer.

His heart slammed within his chest, but the chilling images from his dreams drove him onward. Something dark was coming, something so dreadful that it was critical for him to be prepared, to have his body honed into a fighting weapon in its own right.

At least Jakob was back, he thought with a quick prayer of relief, which meant one particularly disturbing vision had been averted—although the upcoming undercover operation over in Idaho concerned him greatly. Still, they had no better choice than to use Jakob in the op. Besides, if he could take down the man who'd murdered Hope, it just might help him embrace life here in this time.

Jared had a strong instinct about Shelby, too, and hadn't missed the way she kept her eyes on Jake all through the meeting the other day. He'd seen her in his visions of his friend, seen that she was a critical part of what Jake needed to move on.

His comm vibrated against his wrist, and he punched the button, not breaking stride. "Bennett."

It was Lieutenant Daniels. "Sir, there's a relay call for you down here in the hangar. It's Kelsey's father on the line."

Jared came to an abrupt halt, bending over and planting his hands on both knees. Gasping for air, he answered, "Hold … the … call, Lieutenant. I'll be right down."

He hit the stairs, taking them two at a time, snagging a water bottle from the refreshment table as he trotted past. Gulping it down, he used his T-shirt to mop the sweat from his face. By the time he reached the far side of the hangar, his breathing was at least close to normal. Lieutenant Daniels stood waiting, holding the phone out to him.

"Thanks," he said, pressing the phone to his ear. "Hello, sir."

There was a moment of hesitation on the other end. "This is Jared Bennett?"

"Yes, sir—thanks for calling me. Do you have news about our … matter?"

Again, more hesitation, then, "I think I need to come back out there, Jared. You're right … the situation with the vice president is very disturbing. I have no idea how to proceed."

Jared nodded, not that his father-in-law could see him. "How long would it take you to get to Warren?"

"I'd have to book the ticket, find the flight … might be really late tonight."