Hunted by the Past, page 8
“Back at the car, I wanted to make sure you guys were here first.”
“Come on, let’s go grab it.” Kayden herded Tag back to the door.
Tag threw a look over Kayden’s shoulder, his eyes narrowing on me, then he looked back at Kayden. “Everything okay?”
“Yeah. Let’s just give Cyn a minute.” Kayden didn’t let go of Tag’s arm as they went back to the front door.
When the door closed behind them, I let out an unsteady breath. What was I thinking? Letting Kayden back in wasn’t smart. I needed to be part of what brought Kelsey’s killer to justice and to do that I would need to prove my usefulness to their team. If I wanted to work with Tag and Kayden, I couldn’t afford to screw things up by messing around with Kayden.
The first time we came together we tiptoed around whatever it was growing between us. Both of us knew damn good and well, a unit functioned properly only as long as its members knew their roles. Initially, I thought he held back because pursuing it would blur those lines and jeopardize the mission. After what he shared in the ride over, I wondered if that was the real reason, or if what I thought had been real was just another tactic to uncover a possible traitor.
Not that it mattered, not anymore.
I was honest enough to admit if this didn’t stop now, it wouldn’t be long before we ended up in a sweaty tangle of skin and sheets. According to my reawakened hormones, it would be a great short-term solution, but long term? It would take more than I was willing to pay.
Disgust spiraled through me. What the hell was I doing worrying about a non-existent relationship when there were other things I needed to face? My only priority should be stopping Ellery. I might have failed Kelsey in life, but I sure as hell wasn’t going to fail her now.
Getting to my feet, I walked to the table where the file sat. I picked it up and headed to the kitchen. Scrounging around, I found a notebook and a couple of pens shoved in a drawer. The door opened, and Kayden came down the hall with Tag on his heels. Materials in hand, I stood in the entryway, watching them.
“We’ll throw our stuff in the room on the left, Cyn can have the one on the right,” Kayden directed as he grabbed the two duffles by the couch.
“Kayden,” I called, stopping him from following Tag. “How much of this has been cleaned?” I held up the file.
“It hasn’t.”
“Really? You’re actually going to share all the information with little ol’ me?” Sarcasm, it was the way of my people.
Shifting his grip on the duffles, he sighed. “I warned Delacourt that giving you partial information would be the wrong move.”
“Why? Because Ellery wants me dead, so I must not be the leak?” Low blow, but it served as a reminder, to both of us, of what brought us to here and now.
“I never thought you were the leak, Cyn.”
“Whatever.” I looked away, unsettled by his admission. “Do I have to sign something in blood before I open this?” No military or quasi-military outfit would grant full access without some sort of leverage.
Exasperation flashed across his face. “Read the damn file, then ask Delacourt whatever the hell you want.” He turned and disappeared down the hall.
Refusing to acknowledge the flash of shame at provoking him, I headed to the small patio. I needed some privacy. I closed the French doors behind me, knowing the partially open blinds on the glass would let the guys know where I was without feeling like they were looking over my shoulder. Going through this file would be akin to walking through an emotional minefield. No way did I want either one of them witnessing resulting damage.
Two faded wooden Adirondack chairs sat on either side of a small, square table. I dropped into the first one and opened the file. A collection of garish photographs fell across the surface and tumbled into my lap. “Dammit.”
I began gathering those that had fallen and setting them next to the others, trying hard not to really look at them yet. It wasn’t until I picked up the one that had fallen half under my chair that I reconsidered being out here alone.
I stared at the horrific image as it shook in my hand. The twisted, burned body in glaring color snapped the chains holding back the past. Nausea and horror climbed the back of my throat, choking me. The sun-washed wilderness faded away only to be replaced by that cursed alley half a world away.
Night had fallen quick and hard in the desert. There were no streetlights offering pools of resistance in this two-camel town, only shifting shadows and shades of darkness.
Our eight-person team had split into two smaller teams of four, better to capture our target in a pincer move. My NVGs, night vision goggles, were a godsend, but they impeded peripheral awareness.
The four of us spread out, covering as many angles as we could as we moved in. Sound traveled, so we relied on silent hand gestures and maintained radio silence. Ortega took the lead with Tag on his heels. Behind me, Flash watched our six. Together we made our way into a narrow alley.
Crumbling mud walls stretched around us, blocking out what little moonlight existed. Our best vantage point lay at the ally’s end, where the two buildings faced the open area of the small village and provided an optimal line of sight into the supposed meeting place. The other team, led by Kayden, should be making their way from the other side, cutting down the possible escape routes of our tango.
Instead of my camera, my hands were wrapped around my M162A. The camera would come out once we were in place. Uneasy, I kept my attention on the shifting shadows. Something felt off. We all knew it, but not one of us could pinpoint it. Unfortunately, until we could tag it and bag it, we were under orders.
We were almost to the end of the alley when death stepped forward and turned a simple operation into a nightmare.
Ortega went down first. The sharp crack of a sniper rifle echoed as his body crumpled to the ground. Shouted questions and the short, staccato pops of rifle fire came through the radios. Both teams were under attack.
Time warped, and shock froze me in place. Between one blink and the next, the heavy shadows resolved into black-clad assailants. The night erupted into harsh breathing, curses, and the heavy sound of flesh and bone meeting.
Chaos reigned.
I caught a brief glimpse of Tag struggling with two unknowns. Behind me, the sounds of fighting rose, merging with the clamor ringing in my ears. Then I was too busy trying to stay alive to notice anything else. I managed to block the first strike with my M162A, but the fucker I faced was stronger than I expected. Faster, too. Unnaturally so.
My rifle went flying as the brunt of the hit sent searing pain through my hand and wrist. My head rocked to the side with the next hit, and the din in my ear disappeared as my radio flew into the night. My world narrowed to a flurry of fists, kicks, and dodges. He matched every move I made, and it didn’t take long to recognize his military training.
Covered in black material from head to toe, only his eyes were visible. Not that it did me any good. Darkness made it difficult to determine color. Taller, heavier, those things I could identify, but nothing else. His hits became progressively harder, striking vulnerable parts of my body. They fell with such precision and accuracy, it wasn’t long before he dropped my ass with a well-aimed kick to my thigh. The bone snapped under the blow and my vision whitened. I barely registered the next few strategically placed blows. Pain soared past any threshold I’d previously held and became all encompassing. When my head hit the ground, I lost track of time.
Sight winked in and out. The unrelenting bitch of pain turned my leg into a useless weight, and my ribs were their own vicious weapon, keeping my breaths shallow. My vision wavered, but not enough to miss Ortega’s sightless eyes or the spreading pool of blood glistening like an oil slick around his head.
Frantic, I forced my hands under my chest and shoved. My right wrist crumpled, and fire lanced across my chest as I landed on damaged ribs. Searing agony triggered a choked scream. Panting, I forced myself to dig deep and keep going. Gravel bit into my damaged hands, but I managed to drag my body closer to Ortega.
“Ortega?” My voice shook, so did the crippled hand I pressed to his neck.
Nothing.
Cracks of gunfire punctuated the night. I lifted my head, hoping to locate the rest of the team. My vision wavered and twisted, but somebody lay at the head of the alley, motionless. My heart clenched.
Tag.
I couldn’t tell if he was breathing or not. It didn’t look good. Fear overrode my damaged body and I dug my hands into the hard-packed dirt, prepared to drag myself toward him. Behind me a hoarse scream ripped through the night.
“God, no!”
I knew that voice. It raked against my panic and pain like razor blades. Petrified, but unable to stop, I rolled over, half-propped by Ortega to watch the horror unfolding behind me.
Part way down the alley, two men had someone pinned against the wall. My vision wavered, and then cleared. Flash was still being held in place while a third man moved to stand in front of him. Flickering light came from somewhere, illuminating the terror etching cruel lines across Flash’s face.
The third man, dressed in black, with wide shoulders, removed his gloves, revealing pale skin that seemed to glow against the night. Flash continued to struggle against the other two. My mind tried to grasp the fact that a thin line of blue-white flames outlined Flash’s arms without seeming to burn him.
“Go ahead and fight, Captain, I don’t mind.” The perverse enjoyment in the voice chilled my soul. He raised his bare hands to cup Flash’s face, breaking the line of the blue-white flames.
There was no way to see what changed, but those horrific flames surged, turning solid white, then changing bit by bit to yellow. Yet neither Flash nor his assailant burned. Not yet. Those flames weren’t normal. What was he using? Why couldn’t I see his weapon?
I shoved my questions away, knowing if I didn’t do something now, they would kill my friend, my mentor, in front of me. I searched Ortega’s body for a weapon and came up empty as my heart raced. With no gun readily available, I reached down my damaged leg and found my knife. With my vision swimming, my hand broken, and terror screaming through my veins, throwing it wasn’t smart, but I was out of options. I aimed for the one holding Flash’s face. I must have made some noise because the man closest to me looked up.
Then my knife did the impossible. It stopped in mid-air as if running into an invisible barrier and dropped to the ground.
My mind stumbled.
A dark chuckle cut through the night.
The flames went from yellow to a hellish, reddish orange and Flash began to scream.
The sound. Dear God, as if he was being ripped apart from the inside out. The flames cast Flash’s face in an unearthly nimbus of fire. His screams increased, driving me forward.
Harsh sobs wracked my body. Then the smell drifted toward me. I began to gag as the sickening odor of burning flesh replaced the dust-dried air. Horror engulfed me even as Flash became the wick in a grisly pyre, the fire painting macabre shadows on the surrounding mud walls.
The two holding him stepped away, but the third still held his face, his hands untouched by the flames.
I blinked away the darkness edging my vision and fought to stay conscious. “Flash! No! Stop! Please!” It didn’t matter how much I begged, the nightmare continued.
When the only screams left were the ones in my head, the third man turned and walked toward me, slow, deliberate. As he got closer, his body blocked out what was left of Flash. He crouched in front of me and a flickering light to my left caught my gaze. I stared at his right hand as it dripped blue-tinged flames.
“Your turn.” He reached out to touch my face.
I jerked backward, but my battered body was slow to respond.
His hand moved closer until a mere breath separated our skin. It wasn’t enough. He traced a torturous line from my cheek and down my neck, to my shoulder. The heat from his burning hand left melted skin and material in his wake.
My screams pierced the night, then nothing.
Chapter 7
The sound of the door opening behind me brought me back into the present. Too busy hiding my nightmare, I didn’t turn.
“You okay?”
At Tag’s question, I managed a jerky nod.
He stepped out onto the small porch and closed the door behind him. His shadow blocked the light of the afternoon as a glass of water appeared in front of my face.
Setting the photo face down on the table, I took his offering.
He crossed in front of me to the other chair. He sat down without a word, setting a second glass on the table. A brittle silence settled between us. Finally, he broke it. “Are you going to ignore me?”
“Will it work?” My question was short, because I was still shaking from my trip down memory lane and the jumble of emotions crashing in its wake.
“Nope.” He slumped down, stretching his legs out in front of him. He folded his hands on his stomach and frowned, concern clear on his face. “You’re looking a little pale.”
My fingers tightened around the sweating glass. “What do you want, Tag?”
“I know you’re pissed.”
I met his gaze and said nothing.
He sighed, then his chin rose, a clear indication he was about to get stubborn. “I’m not going away until you talk to me.”
“Why?”
Puzzled, he asked, “Why what?”
“Why now?”
His lips thinned and his gaze hardened. “Harder for you to ignore me when I’m in your face. Since you refuse to take my calls, you’ve left me no other option. So we’re going to clear the air once and for all.”
I opened my mouth, but the words died before they could escape. I closed my mouth and then rubbed a hand over my face. He was right, it was time to talk. Even Kelsey had pushed for me to reach out before I left on my last job. My heart clenched. I breathed through the ache, as I examined the part of me that didn’t want to have this conversation, so much so it was smothering the urge to rail at him for keeping things from me. That reluctance pulled me up short.
Why couldn’t I get the words out? The questions were simple. What psychic ability do you have, Tag? Why didn’t you tell me? Why’d you leave me?
They were trapped in silence. What held them back? What could he say that I hadn’t considered in the last six months? Would finding out his ability change things for me?
I hadn’t shared my lovely little quirk in all the years we had known each other, so why should I expect him to share? Digging deeper under my superficial excuses and protective anger, I found an ugly truth.
I was scared and jealous.
Jealous that Tag and Flash were chosen to be part of something without me. Even though I hid my ability for years in an effort to be ‘normal’, there was no doubt Tag’s answers now would redefine my idea of normal. But even more intimidating, I was scared. Scared he would blame me for things I knew were my fault. Scared he wouldn’t blame me. If we aired everything, would I recognize my oldest friend after everything was said and done? With Kelsey gone, my relationship with Tag was my last, steady anchor. I didn’t want to find out how much of it was an illusion. If he wasn’t who I thought he was, I was in trouble.
Suck it up, Cyn. Running never did a damn thing for you. My little pep talk couldn’t calm the fissures of insecurity spreading through me like a spider web. Taking a deep breath, I decided to wade in. “Fine, what is it you can do?”
“I’m a touch empath.”
I blinked a few times, processing. That little spark of electricity when he touched me at the cabin. It was such a typical occurrence around him, I hadn’t given it a second thought. Now, though… “You’re a human lie detector?” An underlying accusation wove through my question.
His easygoing expression disappeared behind a blank mask and his negligent slouch straightened. “Yeah.” No excuses.
“Would you have ever told me?”
“Why? So you could wonder if I read you every time I touched you?”
“Do you?”
“Do I what?” he growled.
“Crawl around my head each time you touch me?” As soon as the question hit the air, I wanted to call it back. It was a childish taunt, one brought to life by hurt feelings, but like any taunt it found its mark.
He covered his flinch pretty damn quick before anger had him leaning across the small table and grabbing my chin, holding me captive so I couldn’t look away. “I don’t crawl around anything, Arden, ever.”
Behind his bitter words was a glimpse of a familiar fear. Instead of jerking away, which is what he probably expected me to do, I curled my fingers around his wrist to hold him in place. “Fine, then tell me how it works.” My voice was surprisingly level.
The pressure of his fingers against my chin relaxed, and then disappeared. He twisted his wrist until I let go, then leaned back. “I read emotions. Touch makes the reception clearer.”
What would it be like to know exactly what someone thought of you? Considering how hard he was hiding his reactions right now, my guess is it would royally suck. “Does that mean it’s constantly on, or is there an off switch?”
“I’ve figured a few ways to keep the noise down.” He played with the glass in front of him. “My control has increased since I joined PSY-IV.”
The mention of his current employer spiked my infantile jealousy. “Lucky you.”
His restless movements stilled, and then he looked up and frowned. “After Flash’s death it didn’t take much to put two and two together. I had been approached by Delacourt, and then those bastards targeted Flash. Considering how he died…” he shook his head. “Besides, your gut feelings turned out too freakin’ right too many times. Add in the fact at logic indicated at least two of us had abilities, it didn’t take long to figure out you were in our unit for a reason.” He leaned forward, and his eyes reflected the same hurt swirling in my chest. “You never said a word. What was I supposed to think?”
The raw emotion in his question pulled the rug out from under my tumultuous emotions, leaving me exposed. The past crowded too close, and I had to cough a couple of times to clear the lump in my throat. “You left me.” My unexpected accusation squeezed out, shocking us both. “You blamed me.” Now that the words were free, I couldn’t stop them. “After Flash’s death, everyone disappeared. I get Liza, Nate, and Mike, maybe even Kayden. But you?” My voice cracked.
