Dangerous Lover (22 page)

It was frustrating, working with just the tips of her fingers. Her wrists and hands ached from the straining she was giving them before the first hour had passed. But eventually, the knots began to give, to loosen, and Selene felt hope.

When the knots came free, the two women's hands clasped for just a moment. Then they relaxed, leaving the ropes, loose enough now to shake off at a moment's notice, wrapped around their wrists for appearance's sake.

 

Garrett had led the gang, armed with maps, guns, and walkie-talkies, into the woods from a point a couple of miles up the road, around a bend which should cut off some of the walking time. They'd been discussing who should enter the woods where, and which way to head, when his radio picked up the transmission addressed to someone named Cory.

He held up a hand, yanking his radio from his belt, and turning up the volume. When the man said something about having “your little Witch,” he knew this was important.

“Cory must be the name of the guy she was accused of stabbing in the woods. That's what started all this. He vanished from the hospital,” Vidalia explained.

Jimmy Corona nodded. “She's been traveling with him, she told me as much on the phone, but I couldn't get any more out of her.”

“Wait, listen!” Vidalia shouted, as another voice came over the radio. “That's Selene!”

They all leaned closer, listening to Selene insist there was no one with her, and then try to tell this Cory fellow to wait it out, that her family would be there to help him soon. Garrett hoped to the Almighty he would take that advice.

But the man didn't. He was on the line a few moments later, asking the bastard for instructions.

And the man replied by giving detailed directions to an old hunting shanty where they wanted him to come, alone, naturally. They always told you to come alone. Garrett rolled his eyes, and noted that Lash was already scribbling the directions the man gave on a notepad.

The radio went silent, then crackled again. “You have three hours.”

And that was it. Three hours. Hell.

Lash leaned over the map with his scrawled notes, and when Jessie shoved her way in between him and Garrett, Garrett let her. Between the two of them, they managed to pinpoint the cabin's probable location on the map, marked it with an X, then shoved the map back toward Garrett.

He looked it over. “There's a road that'll take us pretty close,” he said, tracing the snaky line that represented the road across the page. “It's the only way we're gonna make it in time. Cory's got quite a head start on us.”

“Good plan,” Vidalia said. “I'm looking forward to having a talk with this fella.”

“Vi, it's gonna be rough going.” Garrett thought that even as strong and fit as she looked, he wasn't sure a woman her age could make the trek.

She lifted her brows and fixed him with a look. “Well, now, Garrett, if you think you can't handle it, you can certainly wait in the truck. But it don't look all that tough to me.”

“Or to any other mamma, when her baby's waiting at the end of the trail,” Jessie told him.

“Any other mamma isn't Vidalia Brand,” Melusine put in. “Frankly, she can hold her own better than anyone else here.”

He nodded. “Okay. I won't mention it again.”

“You hadn't better,” Vi said. “Let's get this show on the road.” She started for the nearest vehicle.

 

Crouching in the woods outside the small hunting shack, Cory took stock of the situation. There was a man guarding the front door, another guarding the back, and he had no idea how many inside. If he walked right up to them, he would probably be signing his own death warrant. And Selene's, too.

Selene.

God, being this close to her, knowing she was just beyond that lopsided door, was almost too much to take. Everything in him churned. He was shaking, literally shaking all over as thoughts chased themselves through his mind. Had they hurt her? Were they hurting her even now? Was she even alive?

The idea that she might not be filled him with thick, suffocating darkness. His chest felt empty; there was a black void where his heart should be.

Swallowing hard, he backed a safe distance away, and keyed the mike on the walkie-talkie. “I'm close,” he said. “But how do I know the women are still alive?”

The radio crackled, a female voice came over it, but not Selene's. “This is Erica. We're all right.”

A second later it crackled again. “It's me,” Selene said. And the relief that washed through him nearly deafened him to what came next. “Don't risk your life for us, Cory—ow!”

He gripped the walkie so hard he cracked its plastic casing. “Don't hurt her again.” His voice was unrecognizable, even to his own ears. He'd never sounded like that before. Memory or no, he knew that for a fact.

“Get your ass in here, Falconer, and I won't have to.”

The voice was familiar. It tickled the edges of his memory, teasing something to life there. Something he could almost grab hold of. Almost.

“Those women didn't see anything that night,” he said. “They don't know who the hell you are. There's no reason to kill them.”

“They've seen me now.”

“And whose fault is that?” he demanded. “Look, I'm the one you want. Send them out, and I'll come in without a fuss.”

There was no reply. But a second later the cabin's door slammed open so hard it banged into the outside wall, broke off at the upper hinge, and hung there, crookedly, by the bottom hinge alone. Selene was shoved outside, but not alone. A man had one arm hooked around her shoulders, holding her back flush to the front of his body, like a shield. His other arm held a gun, its barrel pressed to her temple.

“By the powers of the Dark Goddess, you will suffer for this!” she shouted.

“Shut up!”

“I curse you by the sun! I curse you by the moon! I curse you by—”

He drew back and clocked her in the head with the butt of the handgun. She went limp in his cruel grasp, her head falling forward, even as Cory lunged upright.

A hand on his shoulder shoved him right back down, and a voice he didn't know spoke from close to his head. “Easy, fella. You've got back-up now, just take a breath.”

He turned, and found himself face to face with a big man who wore a star on his chest. “Garrett Brand,” the man said. “I'm her cousin. And so are most of them.” He nodded toward the woods behind him as he spoke. “Exceptin' for her sisters and in-laws and her mamma—well, hell we can save the introductions for later, I s'pose.”

Cory scanned the brush, and saw at least a dozen others lurking in the trees. Several men, and handful of women. One of the women strode up to him, and he thought she had to be Selene's oldest sister. The resemblance was there, in the shape of her face and the exotic tilt of her eyes, though where Selene was light, this woman was dark.

“You him?” she asked.

“I'm Cory Falconer,” he said.

“The fella that brought all this down on my daughter.”

“Your daughter?” He was stunned, and more than slightly intimidated. “Believe me, Mrs. Brand, I tried to protect her. I never meant—”

She gripped his chin in a firm hand, staring at him with narrow, piercing eyes. “Well, I'll be.” Then she thinned her lips, sighed as if in some sort of capitulation. “I suppose you may as well call me Vidalia, then.” She released his chin, took his hand. “Don't look so scared, son, we've been in worse spots than this one. I daresay those fellas don't have a clue what kind of mess they've got themselves into.”

He swung his gaze back to where the man stood, holding a limp and nearly lifeless-looking Selene in his arms, shouting at him to come out, to show himself.

“I have to go before he hurts her anymore,” he said.

“Takes more than a blow to the head to hurt that one,” Vidalia Brand said.

“He knocked her unconscious.”

“No, son. He just pissed her off, you'll pardon the language.”

Someone moved just to the left, and Cory swung his head that way. It was a copper-skinned, black-haired man, leaning against a tree, with a rifle braced on one of the branches, pointed right at the man who held Selene.

“Don't,” Cory whispered. “You could hit her.”

“Not in this lifetime,” the man said. “Go ahead on out, I've got you covered.”

Another voice chimed in, a female voice. “I've got the one in the front,” she said. Elliot's gone around back to cover that one. The rest of you back us up, and Lash, you keep a bead on that door in case any others come out.”

“There's another hostage in there,” Cory warned.

“Yeah, we know,” Garrett said. “Go on, we're ready.”

Cory swallowed hard, drew a breath, reminded himself that this was Selene's family. If they were anything like her, he could trust them. She certainly did. He nodded, then stepped out of the trees and into the open, raising his hands high. “I'm here,” he called. “I'm coming in.”

S
elene had to fight every instinct in her not to go stiff with fear when Cory stepped out into the open. She could see him, barely, through the slits of her eyelids. He stood there, hands up, with at least two guns trained on him.

“That's more like it,” the man holding her said. “Get on inside. We've got some talking to do before I blow your head off.”

Cory moved closer, until the bad-ass holding her said, “that's far enough. Hank, check him for weapons.”

The man who'd been guarding the front of the shack hurried toward Cory, quickly searched him, then turned to the apparent leader and nodded once.

“Bring him inside.”

Hank gripped Cory's arm, even as Cory lowered them to his sides, and hustled him to the door. The man holding Selene stood aside until Cory was in, then he came in, half carrying, half dragging her. Hank remained outside, probably to resume his job of playing lookout.

Once inside, the bastard released Selene with a little shove. She fought the urge to catch herself, and just let her body stay limp, preparing for the impact with the floor. It didn't come. Cory's arms snapped around her first, kept her from falling. Then he scooped her up and moved toward the back of the room, where Erica was still bound and waiting. He lowered her to the floor, carefully, and as he did, she swore his lips brushed her temple. His hands brushed over hers, behind her, and she moved hers apart while his were there, so he would know she was neither truly bound, nor truly unconscious.

He went still for just a moment. Then she felt a relieved sigh whisper from his lips and he moved them close to her ear. “Careful.”

She nodded, just barely, her cheek rasping over his. “You, too.”

Then he leaned her against the wall and straightened away from her, turning to face his would-be killer. She'd had to work hard to maintain the illusion of being knocked out to this point. But the hardest part of all came when she heard Cory suck in a sharp breath, and say, “Kelly?”

Did he just say Kelly? The Kelly from the datebook? The Kelly with the anniversary?

“Thought you had amnesia, pal. Guess not, huh?”

“I did. Do. But it's coming back to me now. It was you. You were the one Casey and I spotted in the forest, robbing nests of fledgling hawks and eagles.”

“Bingo.”

“Jesus, Kelly, why?”

He did! He said Kelly!
Selene's hand closed on Erica's and squeezed hard—because she had to hold on to something to keep from jumping to her feet and asking questions.

“Oh, come on, Cory. Why do you think?”

“Money.” The word emerged on a sigh that held pure disillusionment. “I never would have thought—”

“No, and you never should have found out. You or your freaking brother. Tell you the truth, I hated killing him a lot more than I'm gonna hate killing you. Barely more than a kid.”

“That didn't stop you from doing it, though, did it?”

“There's too much at stake, Cory.”

“Then why am I still alive?”

“Because I need to know—who else have you told?”

 

“Okay, he's inside,” Garrett said, keeping his voice low. “We can't waste any time. Wes—”

“Already on it.” Before Garrett finished speaking his brother was in motion. He leaned his rifle against a tree, drew a blade from his side, and crept soundlessly out of the cover of the trees. Ben saw him going, nodded once to Garrett, and slipped out just as silently. Seeing Wes move like a big cat was one thing. Wes was lean and wiry. But watching a man as big as Ben move with so much stealth and grace never ceased to amaze Garrett. He couldn't have done it himself, and didn't care to learn.

Ben crept toward the front of the shack, while Wes slid around to the rear, out of sight. As Garrett watched, Ben slid up behind the man guarding the shack in front, and the guy never even felt him coming. Didn't hear him, didn't see him, didn't sense him. One minute he was standing there alone, looking in one direction and then another. The next, he made the mistake of putting his back toward Ben, and Ben struck. Glided up to him, snapped his big arms around the guy, and choked him out cold.

He was dragging the unconscious fellow back into the cover of the trees, when Wes came along with his man slung over his shoulders. Dead or unconscious, Garrett wasn't sure which. Wes didn't have a lot of patience for men who would hurt a woman. And these two were guilty of that, and then some.

“See to it they don't cause any trouble, ladies,” he said, nodding toward Selene's mother and sisters, and his own kid sister Jessie. “The rest of us are going inside to get them out.”

Jessie made a face. But before she could present him with the inevitable argument, Vidalia Brand spoke up. “Makes sense. Too many of us will just get in each other's way. But are you sure Selene and her friends won't be hurt, you all go charging into that cubby hole at once?”

“There are still too many of us,” Garrett said, looking at the men, all of them eager to move, around him. His own brothers, Wes, Adam, Elliot and Luke. His cousin Marcus. And Selene's brothers-in-law, Jimmy, Wade, Cal, and Alex. Counting himself that was nine men. There wasn't room in that shack for nine men. His Aunt Vi was right.

“We don't know how many are in there,” Alex said. Garrett racked his memory to place the man. The big city PI, Melusine's husband and a man who knew his job. He had a reputation that reached well beyond Garrett's neck of the woods. “We should try to lure them out.”

“And maybe sidle up close enough to get a peek inside,” Jimmy Corona, the former Chicago cop put in.

“Probably could get a look through one of those filthy windows,” Wes said. “I can go up nice and quiet, take a peek.”

Garrett nodded. “Keep your ass covered, Wes. Don't expose yourself to any pot-shots, and get right back here.”

“They won't know I'm within a hundred miles,” Wes promised, and he was off again, slipping up to the building.

 

Selene was supposed to be unconscious still. It had only been five minutes, after all. She figured she could squeeze fifteen out of the act. But then she got the distinct feeling of eyes on her, to the point where it made her risk opening her eyes and looking toward the direction from which that energy seemed to come.

For just an instant she thought she glimpsed someone beyond the dirty window, peering in. But it was so brief she almost thought she had imagined it. Would have thought so, if not for that feeling.

She
never
mistrusted her feelings. Okay, she had for a brief span of time, but never before. And never again.

It was someone all right. And not one of the thugs, but a spiritual person. His aura was huge. A second later, there was a noise from outside. Sounded like a rock hitting the side of the building.

Kelly jumped to his feet, then nodded to one of the two other thugs in the room. “See what's up.”

One of the men nodded, drawing his weapon and moving to the door. He frowned as he stared outside. “I don't see Larry.” He hurried to the other side of the shack, looking out the back. “Hank, either.”

“Shit.” Kelly turned an angry glare on Selene. “You did this, didn't you? You and that mumbo-jumbo you were babbling at us earlier!” He moved toward Selene as he spoke, lifted a foot to kick her in the ribs, but Cory launched himself from his chair before he could land it, and knocked the guy to the floor.

They struggled; a gun went off. And Cory rolled onto his back, with blood pumping from beneath his hand where it was pressed to his belly.

Selene was on her feet, falling to her knees beside him, her unbound hands no longer a secret as she pressed them to him. “No, dammit, no!”

And then before she could even feel the pain of being grabbed by her hair, the place exploded. The back door smashed in; the front door smashed in; bodies poured through both, and one hurled itself through the side window, hitting the floor, somersaulting and landing crouched with a gun drawn. Kelly and his two men were disarmed and beaten senseless within a minute, and then everything was still again.

Jimmy and Garrett were snapping handcuffs on the bastards, and she was on her knees again, beside Cory.

He was conscious, and clearly in pain, but his eyes only searched her face and he asked, “You okay?”

“Am I okay? Cory, why did you attack a guy with a gun just to keep him from kicking me?”

He closed his eyes. “I'll tell you later.”

“Tell me now.” He didn't reply and she leaned closer. “Cory? Cory!” But there was no response.

 

Casey Falconer burst into the hospital's nearly empty waiting room, looking frantic and frightened. Selene rose from the vinyl chair, a foam cup of stale coffee clutched between her palms. “You look a lot more like your brother when you're not unconscious,” she said.

He frowned at her. “You know my brother?”

“Yeah.”

“Is he—”

“In surgery. The bullet missed his vital organs, but he lost a lot of blood, despite my best efforts. They're not saying much more than that.”

Casey closed his eyes, lowered his head, and his breath rushed out of him. He looked tired. Of course he was tired, given what he'd been through. Selene moved closer, took his upper arm in a gentle hand. “I think you should sit down, before you fall down, okay?”

Nodding, he let her lead him to a chair, then sank into it.

“Coffee?” she asked.

“No thanks.” He lifted his head, met her eyes. “I'm Casey Falconer, by the way.”

“I know,” she said. “How did you get here, Casey?”

“I came around in the hospital, and there was a cop there waiting to talk to me. Chief Wheatly?”

“Yeah, he's an old friend.”

“I told him who I was, what had happened, asked about my brother. He filled me in, but told me no one knew exactly where Cory was at that point. I spent one more night in the hospital, then when he told me about what was happening, I signed myself out, insisted on riding down here with the chief.”

She smiled. “I'm glad you came. Cory's been worried about you.”

“So how did you know who I was?” he asked.

“I was with your brother when we found you in the woods where those bastards had left you for dead.” She held up a hand. “Selene Brand.”

“Guess I owe you one, Selene Brand.” He took her hand, squeezed it briefly.

“Well, I have a suggestion that'll make us even,” she said.

He frowned at her. “Shoot.”

“Cory…he's been having trouble with his memory. Some kind of reaction, we think, to whatever those animals drugged you guys with. We um…we glanced through a little date book we found in your pocket, you know, looking for some kind of clue as to what was going on. Why someone was trying so hard to kill the two of you. And there was this notation.”

As she spoke, she tugged the tiny planner from her own pocket, flipped it open to the page in question, pointed to the note as she turned the book to him, handed it to him. “Can you tell me what this means?”

Casey took the book, looked at his note, furrowed his brows and looked at her again. “Cory and Kelly anniversary. Ten years. Party at two.”

“Yeah, that's the one.”

He tilted his head to one side. “You and my brother have something going on, Selene?”

“Not if he's married, we don't.” She averted her face as she felt it getting warm. “The leader of that gang of bird smugglers—Cory called him Kelly. I was hoping…maybe somehow—”

“Kelly McGuire is a wildlife officer. Well, he was one, before he decided to use his position to line his own pockets at the expense of the wildlife he was paid to protect. He and Cory were hired on the same day. They would have been celebrating ten years on the job next month.” He closed the notebook, shoved it into his breast pocket.

“Then—Cory doesn't have a wife?” She was holding her breath, she realized, as she awaited his answer.

“Cory can't commit to a long-distance carrier, Selene, much less a woman. His car's a lease so he can get a different one every two years. He rents his house in case he ever wants to move. No. He doesn't have a wife.”

She smiled slowly.

“So you and my brother
do
have something going on,” Casey said.

She shrugged. “He's my soul mate.”

The expression that came over Casey's face when she said that made her smile. His eyes went kind of wary and wide, and his jaw went slack.

“Yeah, that was pretty much his reaction, too,” she said. “But it's true. Of course that doesn't mean I can say what the outcome will be.”

His eyes narrowed and he seemed to be studying her. “I have the same issues, you know.”