Heat of the Night(21)
Author: Sylvia Day

"I’m not sure that his help will be enough, as much as I value it."

"True." Aidan’s mouth thinned grimly. "We need reinforcements. As soon as we can catch our breath, Connor is going to have to sit down and figure out who is best to bring over from the Twilight. I haven’t been with the men since they’ve become rebels. I have no idea who is up for the task and who isn’t."

Lyssa leaned over and pressed a kiss to his cheek.

"I can’t believe all the sacrifices the Guardians are making for us."

"It was our fuck-up, Hot Stuff." He cupped the back of her neck and nuzzled his nose against hers. "It’s our responsibility to clean it up."

The sound of a car pulling into the drive caught both their attentions. Then another car. And another. Pushing to their feet, they ran to the front door. Stacey stood on the porch, watching the invasion with a blank stare.

A fleet of cars flooded Stacey’s property.

Hummers, Magnums, Jeeps, and vans, their headlights angled in every direction as they covered the lawn in a broad pattern.

"Holy shit," Lyssa said.

"I’m insane," Stacey muttered, her hands on her sweats-clad hips. "There is no other explanation for this madness."

Connor hopped out of the nearest car, a black Magnum. He caught Aidan’s eye and shrugged. "I brought reinforcements."

"I’ll say."

The yard was reclaimed by the darkness as headlights were extinguished one by one. Men and women began to climb from their vehicles.

Cargo doors and trunks were opened and masses of equipment brought out.

Sprinting up the steps, Connor gestured everyone into the house. "Your home is going to be headquarters, Stace," he explained, holding the door open for her and Lyssa to enter. "There’s a transponder in Rachel’s cell phone that is sending its location to a receiver on her end. By setting up shop here, it’ll appear as if we’re staying put."

"Do whatever you want to the damn house," she said, green eyes hard and determined. "As long as I get Justin back, I don’t give a shit about anything else."

The screen door was pulled open and a flood of urban camouflaged individuals poured in.

"First," Connor said to the group at large, pointing to Tommy. "Tranq him so he stays knocked out."

He looked at Stacey. "We’ll take him back to the hotel. Can you write a note saying that Justin called you and complained of homesickness?

Make up something about not wanting to get in a fight about it, so you came and left without waking him."

Stacey arched a brow.

"It’s as close to plausible as we’re going to get on such-short notice," Connor argued. "If you’ve got a better idea, let’s hear it."

"Fuck it."

"Right." Connor glanced at Aidan. "Well?"

"It’s triangular," Aidan replied, "but it’s a small part of a larger whole and until I figure out what the other pieces are, I can’t figure out what the purpose is."

Connor caught the bag thrown at him by one of McDougal’s men. "I’ve got to change into the latest fashion on display here." He gestured at the black, white, and gray-clad people around them.

"McDougal didn’t have much of a selection in the sportswear department."

"How the hell did you get away with all of this?"

Aidan asked.

"A favor of some sort or another."

"I’ve got your back," Aidan said.

"Thanks. I’ve got to change before Rachel calls.

Hopefully, we can get a beat on her location."

Connor traversed the hall to the guest bathroom, which was decorated in soft sea foam green.

Stacey liked color because she had a colorful personality. As he stepped into the shower, he thought of this, thought about how he considered such things about her.

There was a Guardian in the Twilight named Morgan who had been something of a "booty call"

to him for centuries. If he wanted a quick f**k with no expectations and even less conversation, she was his girl. Still, despite how often he’d slept with her, Connor couldn’t recall what the interior of her home was like. He knew she liked flowers and he always brought her some, but he didn’t know what her favorite flower was or what her favorite color was.

He wanted to know everything about Stacey.

Why her? Why now?

"Aw, f**k it!" he muttered, scrubbed out the soap in his hair. His brain hurt from trying to comprehend his feelings.

He cared. Period. Why the hell did he need to know why? He just did.

When Connor exited the steamy bathroom a few minutes later, he found the living room, breakfast nook, and kitchen completely commandeered.

The industrious hum of conversations died suddenly. He frowned, then the soft trill of an uninspired cell phone ring explained the ensuing silence. He jogged to the threshold between the living room and kitchen. Aidan tossed him the phone when he came into view.

Connor caught and flipped it open in one easy movement. "Yes?"

A cord connected the phone to the laptop on the table, which was monitored by a young lady with severely

restrained

brown

hair

and

an

emotionless expression. She gave the thumbs up signal that the trace was in progress.

" Captain Bruce," Rachel purred, " do you have the trinity?"

"Gold scrollwork triangle?" he queried. "I’ve got it."

"Excellent, after it is safely in my possession, I will send someone—"

"No way." His grip on the handset tightened.

"Even trade. I see the boy alive, you see the trinity."

"You wound me, Captain. After all we have been through together, you still do not trust me?"

"Nope. Not a bit."

"Very well, then. Meet me in the parking lot of the Dell Mar Mall in Monterey."

"Got it." He glanced at the gallon the laptop. She shook her head.

Damn it, he had to keep her on the line a little longer…

"Rachel? A word of advice? Not a scratch on the boy." His voice lowered ominously. "You won’t like what happens otherwise."

Connor’s teeth grit as Rachel laughed, but he waited for her to disconnect the line before hanging up.

"According to last tower position, that call didn’t come from the north," the brunette said. "It came from the Barstow area."

Aidan glanced at Connor. "I think she’s headed to Mojave."

"Can we go now?" Stacey asked, stepping into view from the kitchen.

She was wearing a black ribbed tank top, urban camouflage pants, and jungle boots. More important than that, however, was her expression. Burning eyes and pursed lips told Connor that dissuading her from tagging along was going to be a bitch. "Why don’t you help Aidan figure things out?" he suggested.

"Nice try," she retorted. "But I’m not staying here."

He looked back at Aidan. "Are you sending someone up to Monterey?"

They knew each other so well, they could communicate without words. The chances of Rachel separating from her bargaining chip were so slim, they didn’t even signify. Justin was with her.

Monterey was a decoy. Since it would take three hours to get to Mojave and several to get to Monterey, she was stalling for time.

"I’m not an idiot," Stacey said, coming over to him. The top of her head barely reached his shoulder, but she set her hands on her h*ps and looked ready to take him on anyway. "You think you can send me along to Monterey, don’t you?

It’s faster to Mojave and you’re hoping that you’ll wrap this all up before I’m in danger."

Connor struggled to keep his face stern when he really wanted to smile. "If Justin’s in Monterey, that’s where you’ll want to be."

"Listen." Her head tilted to the side. "I’m going with you. If you’re going to Monterey, that’s where I’m going. If you’re going to Mojave, that’s where I’m going. Now grab your shit and let’s go."

Stacey glanced at Aidan. "Which car are we taking?"

"Stace, please," Lyssa begged. Standing from her seat at the end of the small table. "Stay with me."

"Sorry, Doc. No can do."

Grabbing her arm, Connor led her out through the crowded living room and then outside. He took her to the far corner of the porch, by the bedroom window, as far away as possible from the steady foot traffic moving in and out of the house.

Stacey followed Connor with shaking legs. She hoped he didn’t notice how unsteady her steps were. She was terrified he would find a way to leave her behind. Maybe it was unreasonable to feel like she had to be with him, but she couldn’t shake the feeling. Her home was no longer her own, Lyssa was a walking guilt-trip, and Aidan was focused on keeping everything running smoothly.

She felt like an outsider. Lost, confused, and really goddamned scared.

Connor was her only anchor in the mess that was her life. He was stoic, prepared. Ready to go.

What would she do if he left her behind?

He drew to a stop and heaved out a breath. The roof of the porch hid him in shadow, but his eyes glittered with emotions she both longed for and resented.

"Stacey," he began in that low, rich brogue she adored. "What can I do to get you to stay behind?"

"Nothing." Her voice came out hoarser than she would have liked.

"Sweetheart." The aching note in his voice made her cry.

"You can’t leave me here, Connor. You can’t."

He cupped her face in his hands and pressed firm lips to her brow. "I won’t be able to think if you’re with me. I’d be too scared for you."

"Please," she begged in scarcely more than a whisper. "Please take me with you. I’ll go crazy here."

He was going to say no, she could tell. Her hands fisted in his T-shirt. His skin was so hot she could feel the humidity through the black cotton. "You owe me," she said. "I swear to God I’ll never forgive you if you leave me behind. We’ll never have a chance—you and me—if you go without me."

Tension gripped his frame and his head lifted. "Do we have a chance now?"

She swallowed hard, her chest compressed in a vice of misery and yearning.

"Stacey?" He pressed his parted lips to hers, his tongue flickering along the seam.

"I don’t know," she breathed against his mouth. "I can’t think about everything now. What you are…

what this means… But I need you. I need to be with you."

Connor nuzzled his temple against hers and cursed under his breath. "You have to listen to me.

Obey every command without question."

"Yes," she promised, surging into him. "Yes, whatever you say."

"You’ll be the death of me," he murmured, taking her mouth with deep, possessive licks. His thumbs brushed across her cheekbones, wiping at the wetness left by her tears. His grip was almost too tight, his passion almost too much.

She welcomed it, welcomed his warmth and strength when she had none, and she missed it when he pulled away reluctantly.

"Let’s grab our bags," he said with a resigned sigh.

"The sooner we take off, the sooner we’ll have Justin back."

Filled with gratitude, she restrained him and kissed him one more time. "Thank you."

"I don’t like this," he growled. "I don’t like it all."

But he was doing it anyway, because he couldn’t deny her. There was something precious in that capitulation.

Stacey stored away the feeling to examine another day.

Chapter 14

Connor stared straight down the highway and wondered at his sanity. It was shot to hell apparently; otherwise Stacey would not be in the passenger seat next to him.

"So all of your people are immortal?" she asked tentatively.

His grip on the steering wheel tightened. The powerful HEMI engine of the Magnum hurtled them along Interstate 15 at eighty-five miles per hour, but the restlessness eating at him made it feel like they were standing still. They weren’t reaching their destination fast enough.

"We can be killed," he said finally, "but it takes a lot of work."

"Are you going to k-kill Rachel?"

He shot a side-glance at her. "I may have to."

She nodded grimly.

"I’ll do everything I can to keep this neat and clean, but if it comes down to the wire, we can’t afford to fail."

"No, we can’t." She offered him a shaky smile that was meant to be reassuring and his heart clenched. "I figured you might need me when you handed me this gun and started explaining."

"That’s to protect yourself. Don’t worry about me, Stacey." He reached out and set his hand over hers where it held the Glock. "Keep yourself alive.

That’s the most important thing."

The silence stretched out between them. Not quite comfortable, not quite uncomfortable.

She blew out her breath, then twisted in the seat to face him. "So I hold both arms out steady, and just keep pulling the trigger until all the bullets are gone. Even if they’re down for the count?"

"Yeah, especially if they’re down. You can’t kill them with a gun. You can only slow them down long enough for me to finish the job."

"With the sword."

"That’s right. Guardians can heal most injuries, but we can’t grow back limbs or our heads."

"Yuck." She shuddered.

"And keep your eyes open. Sounds obvious, I know, but the report of the gun naturally causes the eyes to blink. You can f**k up a shot that way."

"Eyes open. Okay."

The hands-free communications system signaled an incoming call and they glanced at each other.

Connor activated the line and said, "Tell me you have something good, Cross."

Aidan’s brogue came through the speakers.

"We’ve got a location on the black sedan. Your recollection of the plate numbers was right on and that led us to a rental agency in San Diego who has GPS locators on all of their vehicles.

You’re almost on top of them now."

"Where?" Stacey cried.

"They stopped in Barstow, near where the trace lost the cellular signal. Hopefully, they decided to hole up for the night and didn’t just ditch the car."