Tempting the Fire Page 21

  “What do you think he’d do if you got pregnant?”

  Her throat closed up so tight she had to swallow half a dozen times before she could speak. “I think he might … leave me. He’d take the kid and leave me.”

  “I doubt that would happen, but you need to talk to him.”

  “I already did. He was adamant.” The tremor in her voice was humiliating. “I can’t lose him, Dev. On top of everything else, I can’t lose him.”

  Dev’s arms came around her. “Your fear is making you doubt him and yourself. Talk to him, okay?”

  She braced her forehead against his chest. “I will. And the mission status? Please, can I have it be active again?”

  “Tell you what,” he said. “You go to medical and get a full physical, and if everything looks good, I’ll put you back on active duty.”

  Disappointment sapped her strength, and she stepped away from him on wobbly legs. “Why?”

  “You said yourself your moods are all over the place. You nearly passed out in my office yesterday. I want to know you’re healthy.”

  “But—”

  “This isn’t negotiable. You want to go on assignments, I need to know you’re in top form.”

  Fuck. There was no way he’d clear her for missions if he knew she was pregnant. Not unless the mission was something lame, like posing as the wife of another agent—an agent who would get to do all the fun stuff.

  “Fine,” she sighed, as though she intended to get that exam. But what she intended to do was find Gabe. She couldn’t fix any of her own problems right now, but at least she could try to fix Dev’s.

  Yep. Avoidance mode was definitely engaged.

  ANNIKA SEARCHED PRACTICALLY EVERY NOOK AND CRANNY ON the ACRO grounds, but Gabe was nowhere to be found. He hadn’t been in the tiny base bar where he liked to hang out after class, he wasn’t at the gym, in his dorm room or even at the little park where she sometimes caught him lying on the grass in the sun.

  No one had even seen him, and she was about to give up when her cell rang. She dug it out of her BDUs’ leg pocket—an awkward trick while driving a stick.

  It was Kira, an animal psychic who worked at ACRO’s massive animal complex. Gabe had been assigned there months ago, mainly just doing odd jobs when he wasn’t in a training class. Both Dev and Kira had thought that working with animals would focus him, and okay, Annika had definitely seen improvement since he started working there … but not enough.

  He still tried to weasel out of lessons and half-assed his studies of past missions that were supposed to teach him about successes and mistakes. His detail work was sloppy, because the only thing he wanted to do was practice with his abilities. He hadn’t yet learned that there were reasons the recruits were taught seemingly crazy things, like folding their T-shirts into perfect squares.

  People who didn’t follow orders got killed.

  “Yeah?” Annika asked, by way of greeting. She eased the Jeep to a stop at an intersection near the medical clinic. “Did Gabe come in?” The animal facility had been the first place she’d looked, but that had been an hour ago, and she’d asked Kira to call if she heard from him.

  “He stopped by to visit Jag—”

  “Who’s Jag?”

  “Border collie. Bomb sniffer. Gabe has kind of bonded with him.” Kira paused, and Annika heard a snort from something that sounded like a horse. “Anyway, I didn’t hear what Gabe said, but he took off when he saw me. So I asked Jag what was up.”

  Kira didn’t actually hold conversations with the animals, but she was able to communicate through images, scents and projected words, if the animals understood them. “And?”

  “Jag indicated that Gabe was taking a holiday. Something about a plane. And a jungle? I don’t know. It wasn’t very clear.”

  No shit. That wasn’t a lot of help. Wait. “Jungle?”

  “I think so.”

  “Thanks, Kira. I owe you.” She hung up and flung her phone into the passenger seat as she sped toward the base airport.

  ACRO’s fleet of custom aircraft included three helicopters, two jets and one C-130 cargo plane, the latter of which was on the tarmac, its rear cargo ramp down, and Annika had a sneaky suspicion that Gabe was on that plane. The crew might not know it, either because he was pulling his invisible trick or because of the thick bulkhead separating the crew and passenger section from the cargo hold. He could hang out with the supplies and no one would know he was there until the plane landed.

  Cursing, she slammed the Jeep into a stall in the hangar parking lot. She leaped out and ran toward the plane.

  The whir of an engine vibrated the air, and the cargo bay ramp began its slow crawl upward. Without thinking, she leaped onto the ramp, sprinted into the rear of the plane and dove for the control panel. The ramp couldn’t be stopped, but the door could, alerting the pilots to a problem.

  As her fingers brushed the toggle switch, something hit her shoulder, and she wheeled into a steel crate. What the—

  Gabe stood there, between her and the control panel. The bastard had been doing his damned invisible thing. “Oh, no, you don’t.”

  “Gabe,” she snapped. “Get off the plane. Now.”

  “Fuck you.”

  The ramp was a third of the way up. “If you get off now, I’ll make sure your punishment is minor.”

  “What part of fuck you are you not getting?”

  Annika clenched her fists to keep from knocking Gabe’s teeth out. “This plane is heading on a mission. A mission you are definitely not ready for. You’ll get yourself killed. Or worse, you’ll get someone else killed.”

  She’d obviously struck a nerve, because his eyes flashed and he took a menacing step toward her. She smiled. Bring it on. She’d kicked his ass so many times in training that she knew every move he’d make before he even made it.

  “I need to do this,” he growled.

  Oh, she was tempted to deck him, but once the ramp closed, the door would shut, and they’d be screwed. There was a custom-made, thick wall between the passenger section and the cargo hold, with a door that could only be opened from the other side. The moment the cargo doors closed, Annika and Gabe were in for the ride.

  She was done being nice.

  “You,” she said crisply, “had your chance. You are now in so much trouble, you’re going to need a backhoe to dig yourself out of the deep shit you’re in. And this time, I guarantee that no amount of dick-sucking is going to get you out of it.”

  She shoved him aside and reached for the panel again, but he snagged her arm and spun her back to him. She wanted to light him up, but the sudden motion had made her head spin and her stomach churn, and it took everything she had to keep from passing out.

  “You little bitch. I have no idea what a cool guy like Creed sees in you, but I hope one of these days he gets wise and dumps your ass.”

  The buzzing in her ears muted his words. Saliva filled her mouth and a cold sweat broke out on her skin as nausea rolled over her. Swallowing sickly, she jerked out of his grip and went for the switch once more, a little sluggishly.

  This time, when he grabbed her, she lit herself up—or tried to. Nothing happened. Even as Gabe shoved her toward the bulkhead, panic flared. Her power … gone. She tried again, nausea making her weak and fear making her clumsy, and her feet hit something and then she was falling. Her head slammed into the corner of a crate, and blackness took her.

  OH, SHIT. FUCK, FUCK, FUCK!

  Gabe knelt next to Annika, disbelief clouding his brain. Annika couldn’t be hurt. He was pretty sure she was indestructible.

  “Annika?” He shook her shoulders, gently at first, and then with increasing urgency. “Annika!”

  Behind him, the cargo door closed with a clang and a hiss, and darkness filled the bay. Only one recessed light illuminated the forward section of the huge space, but he could see well enough to note the blood streaming down Annika’s temple.

  “Shit! Annika?” No response. He had to get her help.
>
  Desperate, he scanned the bay. The control panel. She’d been trying to trip the switches, which obviously must control the ramp and door. He stood, but the aircraft shuddered and lurched forward, and Gabe stumbled into the crate Annika had hit.

  Awkwardly, he shambled to the panel and flipped the switches. Nothing happened. He glanced at Annika, who still lay motionless.

  Think, dammit. Right. He’d never been in the fucking cargo hold of a plane before, but there had to be an alarm here somewhere … or an intercom to the pilot. As the plane gathered momentum, he felt around the walls, scanning the floor, the ceiling, everywhere he could think of, but there was nothing. What kind of damned planning was this? Whoever designed this death trap should be shot.

  He pounded on the metal wall that separated the passenger compartment from the cargo hold, shouting for help. No response. Was the thing soundproof? Or maybe the engines drowned the noises. Could be superthick metal too—the fact that it was metal at all meant he couldn’t dematerialize through it.

  He scrubbed his face with both hands as he considered his pathetically few options.

  Maybe a phone. But he didn’t have one—trainees weren’t allowed cell phones. That had been something Dev hadn’t budged on, no matter how often Gabe had bugged him. But surely Annika had one.

  Carefully, because he didn’t want Annika waking while he was feeling her up or he was liable to be shocked into the next century, he searched her black BDUs, but he found only car keys. His throat grew tight as the reality of their situation began to sink in. Fuck, he was in so much trouble. He hadn’t been worried about Dev’s reaction to his little stowaway mission idea, because he’d planned to show his boss and lover that he could handle himself.

  But because of Gabe, Annika was injured. And if she didn’t kill him when she came to, Creed would. Dev would make the funeral arrangements.

  Hand shaking, he put pressure on her head wound, but the bleeding appeared to have already slowed. “Annika? Come on. I know you hate me, but I need you to wake up.”

  She moaned, and he blew out a relieved breath, which cut off as the plane rose, knocking him off balance again. Annika rolled—he caught her, dragged her against him and held her as the aircraft climbed skyward.

  He was officially screwed. All he could do now was hope to hell Annika loved the Amazon. He looked down at her and also hoped that she was a cheerful morning person.

  Somehow, he doubted it.

  CHAPTER

  Eighteen

  At some point in the evening, a couple of hours after Marlena and Sela had been put under house arrest, Dax brought them food. Marlena had begged for an update about Chance, but Dax wouldn’t say anything. He’d looked at Sela as though he expected her to ask about Logan, but she remained silent. She wasn’t about to give him the satisfaction.

  An hour later, he returned and allowed them to shower and change before shoving them back in the tent. Marlena instantly fell asleep on Logan’s cot. With darkness engulfing the camp and a rough day behind her, Sela rolled out the sleeping bag and collapsed into a deep sleep.

  She wasn’t sure how long she’d slept when she woke to a hand shaking her shoulder. In the darkness, she could make out Dax’s form. For a second, she considered feigning a nightmare and punching him, but a glance told her Marlena was still sleeping, and she didn’t want to wake her.

  So Sela hefted her backpack over her shoulder and groggily followed Dax across the camp, to a large tent adjoining the medical facility. Inside, Logan was prowling back and forth like a caged animal, his big body throwing shadows in the light from a single lantern. He’d showered, and his hair was still damp, wildly grooved as though he’d run his fingers through it repeatedly. He wore BDU pants, but his feet were bare, and so was his upper body, save for a bandage around his right biceps.

  On the table at the back of the tent were papers, clipboards and folders, and every time Logan passed, he’d glance at them, curse and turn away.

  She remained at the entrance, unsure what to do or say. And she had a rare, annoying attack of self-consciousness that made her hastily comb her fingers through her tangled mop of hair.

  “Come in,” he said gruffly, without looking at her.

  “With or without my guard?” The bitterness in her voice surprised her. She thought she had more control than that. Apparently, not when it came to him. “What the hell, Logan? I thought we were in this together. Why did you have Marlena and me locked up?”

  He rounded on her. “I thought you were a cryptozoologist.”

  “I am.”

  “Really?” He came at her, and she forced herself to stand her ground. He didn’t halt until they were practically nose to nose. “I didn’t know chupacabra experts need combat training.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  Darkness clouded his expression. “Come on, Sela. I saw how you handled yourself in the jungle. I’m not a fucking idiot.”

  Shit. Time to kick in her acting skills. “No, you aren’t a fucking idiot. But you are highly suspicious and you jump to conclusions.” Casting a glance at the papers on the table, she shoved him away. Bingo—GWC’s chupacabra research. “Maybe you could have asked me about it instead of making wild assumptions? What in the world do you think I am? An agent for one of your rival weapons development companies, sent to steal your super-secret designs?” She narrowed her eyes at him and wondered how she was going to get her micro-camera out of her pack. “Wait—is your company involved in something illegal? Dangerous? Do you think I’m a cop or something?”

  “What I think is that you’ve been lying to me.”

  “Why? Why would I possibly lie to you? Need I remind you that you found me, not the other way around? And why would you think that just because I can handle myself, I’m lying to you about something? Do you want my entire life story? The things I left out when I told you about my mom the stripper and my childhood spent mooching off strange men? Do you want me to tell you that my foster father was an Army Ranger, and after the shit I went through as a child, he taught me to fight? To hunt? To shoot?” Actually, that was true, but ACRO had taken her training to a whole new level. “Is any of that a crime?”

  “No, but—”

  “But what?” She was mad now, thoughts of getting pictures of the files forgotten. Her guilt about lying to Logan was mixing with residual anger from a childhood she’d left behind and rarely revisited. But Logan had stirred up that pot, bringing all her worst memories to the surface, and she was lashing out in the only way she knew how at the only person within striking distance. “You’re accusing me of being dishonest, but why haven’t you told me what’s going on in this camp? What you’ve done to Chance?” She snorted. “You didn’t lock me up because you think I’m some sort of cop. You locked me up to keep me from learning your secret. So let’s cut the hypocritical bullshit, huh?”

  He looked a little shell-shocked, opened his mouth to say something, but she jabbed her finger into his chest. “You want proof that I’m not here to spy on you … whatever it is you’re doing? Fine. I’m out of here. You can find the fucking chupacabra on your own, and I won’t be around to learn your precious secrets.” She spun away from him and stalked toward the exit, knowing he wouldn’t let her leave.

  “Sela, wait.” Sure enough, Logan grabbed her arm and turned her around. “Just hold on.”

  “Oh, that’s right. I can’t leave. I’m your goddamned prisoner. Want to tell me why that is, exactly, if you’re so fucking innocent that you can be accusing me of shit?”

  “I’m sorry,” he said quietly, turning away from her. “You’re right. I jumped to conclusions.”

  “Yeah, you did. You’d think you would have learned your lesson after accusing your best friend of fucking your girlfriend.”

  Logan whirled around. “What did you say?”

  Oh, shit. He heard and there was no point in talking her way out of this. Instead, she raised her chin. “I wouldn’t think that after losing them both, you’d
be so casual with the accusations you throw around.”

  “How do you know about that?” He’d gone pale, and his fists clenched.

  “I just do.”

  “How?” he bellowed, and she took a step back in the face of his rage.

  “It doesn’t matter. What matters is—”

  She found herself pinned against the center support post, his forearm over her throat, his hard gaze keeping her there even without the restraint. “Answer me. Because they’re both dead, and I’ve never told anyone that. Not a single soul.”

  Dammit. “You were talking in your sleep—” Her breath cut off, only for a second, but long enough to shut her up and make her realize that lying wouldn’t get her anywhere.

  “Not. A. Soul.”

  Her mind worked furiously, searching every nook and cranny for a believable lie. Nothing. There was nothing. At this point, all she had left was the truth. The truth, twisted a little to hide her ACRO status. “You’re not going to believe me if I tell you.”

  “I don’t believe you now,” he said through clenched teeth. “So you can only go up from here.”

  “Really? You think?” She took a deep breath. Exhaled. “Fine. I’m psychic.”

  “Bullshit.”

  “You asked.”

  He shoved away from her. “Okay, I’ll play. What am I thinking?”

  She was pretty sure it wasn’t anything flattering about her. “It doesn’t work like that.”

  He laughed. “Of course not.”

  “I’m telling you the truth. It only works under certain circumstances.”

  “Like what?”

  No way was she going to tell him. “Periods of … high emotion. Now, if we can just—”

  “High emotion? Like now? Because I’m pretty damned pissed. Is that coming over your psychic airwaves?”

  Ass. “It hardly needs to.”

  “So what are you talking about? Sex?”

  She looked away, but too late. He’d seen something on her face, and he pounced. “Fuck me, it is. You get your readings during sex. No wonder you’ve been humping me like a cat in heat. You’ve been getting information.”