Sweet Peril (31 page)

“Are you . . . scared?” I asked.

That cleared his eyes. “Of the mission? No. I’m glad to do it.”

Back to wall staring. He cracked his thumb knuckles, and I took his warm hand.

“Are you upset about my dad putting Kope in charge? Because I don’t think it’s anything personal. Kope knows Arabic—”

“It’s not that.”

“Then what is it?” I squeezed his hand, worried that I was being too pushy.

“It’s nothing.” He finally turned to me and met my eyes, reaching up to stroke my cheek with his thumb. “Everything will be fine,” he promised.

I wrapped my arms around him, and he pulled me onto his lap, where we embraced, breathing each other in until a car door shut outside. Kaidan patted my bottom, making a little
mmm
sound, and I stood.

I opened the door, expecting to see Kope, but instead there was a tiny lady all gothed out with a spiky black pixie cut at her car, struggling to carry hangers of clothes over one shoulder and a ginormous coffee in the other hand. The nub of a cigarette burned between her lips. I rushed out and down the stairs
to help, but she shook her head and nodded to the car.

“Get my kit from the front seat.” She spoke around the cigarette, her voice scratchy.

I found a plastic box with drawers in the passenger seat, and brought it up. Kaidan raised an eyebrow at me when I entered, looking uncertain about it all. He stood watching with his hands in the pockets of his low-slung camo shorts. The makeup artist stopped for a brief coughing fit and a chug of coffee.

Another car door closed outside and Kaidan stiffened as I moved toward the door. If it weren’t for Zania, I’d have done everything in my power to avoid this meeting of the three of us, which was bound to be uncomfortable at best. As I pulled open the door, guilt rushed forward at the sight of Kopano’s smooth face. I wanted to warn him that Kai knew what had happened, but I couldn’t. I gave him a small smile, and he nodded in return. Neither of us tried to hug when he came in, and I closed the door behind him as he set down his small duffel bag.

Kope and Kai stood there in a stare down and I froze. Kai was hardened, lips pursed. Kope appeared calm, but I could sense the wheels turning in his mind.

“I suspected you were not being forthcoming when I called you from Australia,” Kopano gently accused.

“Well, that certainly didn’t stop you,” Kai replied.

Kope’s calm expression turned to a frown. “Do not play victim when you are partly to blame.”

Kai’s hands were in fists. He stepped closer, and so did I. This was worse than I’d expected.

“Brother,” Kope began, a mild warning in his voice, but Kai cut him off.

“What, your life wasn’t perfect enough? College? Not having to work? You needed just a little something more?”

Kope’s badge expanded. He closed his eyes and shook his head. His fists balled for a second, as if he were trying to maintain control when confronted with another man’s wrath.

Kaidan’s feelings of betrayal ran deep, and the situation scared me. These two needed to get along for this mission to be successful.

The makeup artist finished her coffee and let out a sigh, breaking the silence with her jagged voice. “Save your lines for the set, boys. I don’t usually work this early on the weekends and I’m not in the mood.”

When they didn’t move or break their stare down I spoke up. “Seriously. That’s enough. We don’t have time for this. Come on.” I was shaking when I grabbed Kaidan’s arm and pointed to the chair. With one last slanted glare at Kope, he obeyed. I sat on the couch and crossed my arms and legs, tense. Kope stood against the wall. I didn’t look at him, but I knew he was trying to calm himself.

Crap, this was bad.

The makeup artist got straight to work, pointing Kope toward the bedroom. She was efficient, having one guy dress while she worked on the other. I sat on the couch and watched in amazement. When she’d applied a full beard to Kaidan, he caught my eye and sent me a half grin. I shook my head in wonder. He already looked like a stranger. The transformation was sort of freaky.

Both guys were given traditional loose outfits of long white cotton shirts and drawstring pants. They each wore white scarves over their hair and foreheads with black bands around the crown of their heads. To top off their disguises, both of them had to wear brown contact lenses. Their light-colored eyes would stand out too much. By the end, only their hands, faces, and feet showed.

“Wow,” I breathed as they stood before me. I turned to the woman. “You did an amazing job.”

She shrugged. “This was an easy one. Here’s the extra outfits your producer requested. Break a leg, boys.”

Making quick work of the cleanup, she left us. The moment the door closed behind her, palpable waves of discomfort tainted the air.

When Kaidan went in his room to get his packed bag, I gave Kope a small smile over my shoulder, hoping he wasn’t too hurt or upset. His responding expression was one of resigned understanding. I handed him his pile of extra clothes and he put them in his bag. I turned quickly when I heard Kaidan coming back in. Kai glared back and forth between the two of us for a second. I had to swallow, because he looked so unlike himself. Both of them did. Jealous. Paranoid.
Bearded
. It was unnerving.

Kaidan took his pile of clothing and shoved it into his duffel bag. I checked the clock: 8:30.

“I’ll drive you to the airport,” I offered. Kaidan grabbed his keys from the coffee table and tossed them to me without a word.

I couldn’t help but contemplate the wrongness of this
whole situation as we climbed in the SUV and set out. Forcing Kaidan and Kopano together, saving a young woman from prison by purchasing her—I wasn’t even sure of the whole plan yet. Dad had been in a rush and told Kaidan that Kope would debrief him on the plane. All I knew was that I felt sick about it. The only consolation was that the Dukes and whisperers would be in Vegas. If the guys could work quickly, they’d only spend a day in the countryside of Syria before bringing Zania back here to L.A.

Sending her to L.A. had been my idea, and Dad agreed. I’d immediately thought about the convent where I was born, which also served as a shelter and safe house for women. My job today was to call the convent and explain the situation of my friend, a refugee from Syria. I prayed they had room for her. Of course she wouldn’t be able to stay there forever, but we’d worry about that when the time came. One giant issue at a time was all I could handle.

When I stopped at the curb at LAX, I spoke as they reached for their door handles. “Guys.” I turned in the seat to see them. “Look, I know this whole thing is weird, but please think about Zania. She’s going to be scared to death and might be hurt.” My voice thickened. “And she
hates
men. It won’t be easy for her to accept your help. Don’t make it worse by fighting. Just, please . . . put the animosity aside and help her, okay?”

The three of us were still, and the tension eased slightly. “All will be well, Anna. Do not worry.” Kope’s soft words were a comfort. I closed my eyes and nodded, believing him. He climbed out of the car, leaving Kaidan and me to say our
good-byes as he entered the airport alone.

Knowing Kope was still within earshot, I signed to Kaidan:
Don’t be mad at him. He respects you
.

He exhaled a sarcastic huff of air and signed:
He knew how I felt, and he still went after you
.

I closed my eyes and shook my head.

“I wish you would have been honest about how you felt when he called,” I whispered.

He tapped the console, staring down at his fingers when he spoke. “Maybe I just needed to make sure the two of you weren’t meant to be.”

I touched his hand and signed.
It was always you for me. Only you
.

I wanted positive thoughts on Kai’s mind when we parted today. I took his hand, searching for hints that this stranger in front of me was my Kai. Even his eyes were wrong. Then my eyes landed on his lips. Ah, yes. I recognized those.

“I love you,” I whispered.

We leaned over the console for an embrace. It was strange to feel the cloth covering his face and neck. I kissed a bare spot on his upper cheek. Then his nose and his lips. The fake facial hair tickled my chin.

“Please be safe,” I whispered. “No crazy, unnecessary, dangerous stunts. Ya hear me?”

I let a little of my Georgia drawl seep in and he grinned. It was beyond strange to see the grin I loved show up on this unfamiliar face.

Kaidan gathered his bag from the floor. I tried to imagine him meeting Zania.

“Do me a favor,” I said, thinking of something. “Take a picture of me with your phone to show her we’re allies.” Maybe then she wouldn’t try to kick his butt or something.

“Brilliant,” he said, digging out his phone. He took a picture of me then grinned cutely as he saved it. Next he leaned over to take one of us together. We both laughed, looking at it afterward—the odd couple. Me with my high, blond ponytail and black tank top; him in his full Middle Eastern regalia.

“You’ll have to erase them after you show her,” I said. He nodded, seeming forlorn as he stared at the pictures. He slid the cell back into his bag.

Worry knotted my insides like a clenching fist.
They’ll be okay
, I told myself.

“Call Blake,” Kaidan said. “I don’t want you to be alone, and I know he’d be happy to have your company. Actually—” He checked the time. “He’s got that dirt bike competition today. You’d enjoy it, I think.”

“Okay,” I whispered, a tendril of anxiousness still whipping around inside me.

Kaidan fiddled with the GPS until he found the Motocross Outdoor Arena address on the outskirts of Santa Barbara. He kissed me one last time before he climbed out of the car and strode away. Off to save Zania.

And I prayed.

I
drove one-handed, biting off the fingernails I’d managed to grow. The pain of ripping them too short barely registered as I watched the road, calculating how long it would take Kaidan and Kope to get to Syria—around eighteen hours. I hoped to hear from them the following evening. From then it would take another day to get home, if all went well.

A long conversation with Patti did wonders for keeping my mind off the mission. Patti had been frantic when I hadn’t shown in Atlanta and she couldn’t get ahold of me. But she forgave me and cried when I told her how Kaidan had come after me, and how he was going to be a part of my life now. She cried even harder when I told her what had happened to Zania, and the fact that the two Ks and Flynn had been sent on a mission to retrieve her.

“They’ll be okay,” she told me through sniffles. “This whole thing is probably a blessing in disguise. She’ll finally be away from that monster of a father.”

“I know,” I said, but Patti surely sensed the hesitance and fear in my voice.

“It’s all going to work out, sweet girl. I just know it. Call me when they get Z to safety.”

“I will,” I promised, calmed by her certainty. “Just a few more days. I love you.”

“I love you, too. I’ve missed you so much.”

Before I knew it, the GPS was leading me into a giant dirt parking lot.

It was past eleven in the morning when I climbed down from Kaidan’s giant vehicle into the California heat. The games were under way. Dirt bike engines whirred on the trails, jumping peaks and spitting up clouds of dust. The audience was spread wide throughout the sprawling motocross duplex, with some people crowded into bleachers, and some standing on top of vans and buses. Clustered groups were scattered across a nearby hillside on blankets. The guardian angels were almost impossible to see in the bright sunlight, like thin apparitions.

Heat prickled my exposed skin while I stood there, and I regretted not thinking about buying sunblock on the way. I scanned the racing bikers, using my extended sight. Blake was catching air over a jump, in the lead. His win was met with cheers and whistles. A group of girls sitting on the hill did a chant for him, his own personal cheering squad.

The crowd began to shift during the competition transition. People headed for coolers and restrooms. I could feel my
skin burning, so I made my way to the hill, finding a patch of shade near the cheerleaders. A pang of longing sliced me as I watched them laugh together, drinking hard ciders. They sat in the direct sun, soaking rays into their already golden skin. One girl stood to tell a story and the girls never took their eyes from her. The leader of the pack. She was the embodiment of a California girl: blond multihued highlights, wafer thin with curves in all the right places, tan, and fashionable. More than a few girls’ auras darkened with slivers of forest green as she grew animated in her storytelling.

Her own aura interested me. I noticed the deep violet of pride surface as she captured everyone’s attention. Her friends were giggling like mad now as she reenacted an argument she’d had with someone. I almost didn’t notice Blake sneaking up behind her, his bright yellow motocross suit catching everyone’s attention. What was he doing? He put a finger to his lips at the crowd of girls, then grabbed her around the waist.