No one but Bud and the police could know Suzanne was with him. No one had followed them. Even if someone was looking for him, it would take a long time to connect this shack with him, and that included Bud and the police and all the resources they could muster.
John was good at what he did, good at arranging security. He knew the security here was about as tight as that of a nuclear power plant. Maybe tighter. They were safe as safe can be. But a good soldier always double-checks and he was still alive because he never ever took anything for granted. Ever.
So he sat down and checked his equipment.
He had the sweetest new toy and he loved it. A series of sensors with a special microchip programmed with an algorithm to detect heartbeats. And not just any heartbeat, oh no. That was the beauty of the little gizmo invented by Crazy Mac Rowan, the Team computer geek. The chip could distinguish human heartbeats from the heartbeat of 10 mammalian species by the frequency, so the alarm wasn’t tripped by a deer or a bear. The system had been bought for a cool ten million dollars by the INS for use by the Border Patrol but Crazy Mac had given him the prototype. John ran his special program and found exactly what he was hoping to find.
Nada. Zip.
Next step, the motion sensors. Then the bank of monitors connected to weatherproofed cameras all around the perimeter of his land. Then the sensors along the dirt road leading up to the shack. Nothing, nothing and nothing.
No one here, no one coming. Great.
Okay. Now he could call Bud.
Bud sounded tired. “We’re in trouble, John,” he said. “Big time. Both guys’ prints came up immediately. First shooter’s a street punk, been in and out of the cooler all his life starting from juvie when he was fourteen. Assault, rape—“
John’s blood ran cold. Rape. Once a rapist always a rapist. Jesus Christ, the guy would have had Suzanne at his mercy. He would have raped her before killing her.
He was surprised his hands didn’t leave prints on the phone, he was clutching it so hard.
“Armed robbery, drugs…you name it. And he was a hophead to boot, had tracks on his arms, so give him some spare cash to shoot up with and he’d have taken out a school of kids for you. We’re talking walking loaded gun here, man. Pay, aim and fire. Though looks like he was the kind of weapon that can blow up in your face, flip on a dime. That’s the good news. The bad news is that the second shooter was a real pro. FBI’s been all over me this past hour, the Portland SAC is here with me right now. They had a red flag for anyone asking for his prints. They’ve been tracking him for ten years. He’s the prime suspect behind the assassination of Senator Lesley eight years ago. He’s wanted for a couple of other big-name take-outs, too.
“Someone seriously wants Suzanne dead, big guy, and this someone’s prepared to pay major bucks for it. I don’t know who it is, but whoever he is, he’s hired a pro, a real expensive one from what the Feebs are saying. We need to talk to Suzanne, Midnight. We need you to bring her in. Now.”
Bud was crazy. The police weren’t going anywhere near her. No one was.
“No way, Bud,” John said coldly. “You’ll see her if and when you figure out what’s going on and then convince me you’ve figured out a way to stop it. Not before. You’ll hear from me tomorrow and you’d better have some hard facts and a pretty good plan for dealing with this. And you post two men outside Suzanne’s house, front and back. No one gets in.”
“Hey wait, where the hell are you—“ Bud said as John pressed the ‘off’ button. He waited grimly to get himself under control, until his breathing slowed and the red mist of rage in front of his eyes cleared.
Someone seriously wanted Suzanne dead?
They’d have to go through him first.
He headed upstairs. From now on, Suzanne wasn’t going to be more than a hand-span’s length from him.
It was late afternoon when she woke up. The sky outside the large wood-framed window was the deep blue of the evening sky at high altitude. There wasn’t a cloud to be seen. The pine trees cast long blue-black shadows that told her the day was coming to an end. She’d slept the day away.
Something warm and hard gripped her hand and she slowly turned her head on the pillow, knowing what she’d see, her heart tripping a beat anyway as her eyes met John’s.
Her breathing slowed and she felt calm, certain. They’d been moving toward this from the instant they’d met.
He was sitting in the rocking chair by the head of the bed, holding her hand, watching her. Had he slept? There was no way to tell. He looked as he always looked—strong and indestructible.
He’d changed into a black tee shirt, which hugged his deep, powerful chest, stretched tightly over the huge biceps, and a pair of thin gray sweatpants grown soft with washing. She could clearly discern the massive thigh muscles.
He was hugely erect and that could be clearly seen, too. Her gaze was riveted on his groin. His penis came away from his stomach to lengthen, pulsing, and then flatten against his abdomen again.
Amazing, that she could do this to him, that she held such power. The ancient power of womanhood. The crying and the deep sleep and perhaps even the whiskey had done her good, had cleared her mind, filling it with a deep sense of certainty. She was now in another world, an ancient one, as old as man, where ties are forged in blood and iron. A world where the laws were lost in the mist of time, but no less strong for that.
They were bound by the most ancient law of all.
He had fought and killed for her. She was his.
It’s time, she thought.
CHAPTER TEN
It’s time, John thought.
He had watched over Suzanne while she slept, holding her hand.
To give her comfort, because the animal part of a human knows when it’s safe to let go and when it’s not. It was why soldiers always post guards at night, even when there is no imminent danger. So the other soldiers can sleep at ease.
Suzanne slept deeply, giving herself over completely to unconsciousness, because at some level she knew he was there to watch over her.
But he held her hand for his own sake, too. To comfort himself. To know completely and totally that she was safe. Bud’s news had shaken him to the core. The danger stalking her was real and he could lose her almost as soon as he’d found her. So he held her hand to reassure her and to reassure himself.
He wanted her more than ever.
He had to be real careful here, the desire was all tangled with a powerful drive to make her his. He couldn’t let his feelings spill over into violence. Guarding her sleep was reassuring but it wasn’t doing anything to slake his hunger.
His entire body was tense with lust; he was walking a thin line of control here. The powerful feelings coursing through him must have slipped his leash, edged over to her. Suzanne’s breathing changed and she stirred in the bed. He watched.
Waiting. Wanting.
Suzanne eased smoothly from deep sleep to consciousness, eyes fluttering open slowly. She looked out the window at the gathering night, and then turned her head on the pillow. When her eyes met his, light to dark, it was like a punch to the stomach. He exhaled sharply, the sound loud in the silent room.
They could have been the last human beings on the planet. Just the two of them, man and woman, the oldest tie there was. She was his and she was in his cave.
His.
He reached out with his free hand to trace her mouth, the outline, where the skin turned from pink to ivory. She didn't move in any way, large gray eyes watching him, but he could feel the stir of air against his finger as she breathed.
“I don’t want to hurt you,” he whispered. “I was too rough the other night. I don’t want to be rough.”
Her eyes searched his. She didn’t speak. He listened to the sound of her breathing in the quiet room. “You won’t be,” she murmured finally and his heart kicked its rate up.
It’s time.
She knew, too. She felt it too, this rightness, this inevitability.