Havoc by Shannon McKenna

18

Cait didn’t sleep deeply, in spite of the long day. She was intensely conscious of Mace’s big, hard body wrapped around her. She was a sizable woman herself, tall and muscular, with full curves, wide hips, strong thighs, big boobs. Dad had been a big guy, and she took after him. She had heft to her, and she liked it that way. She didn’t want to be fragile or insubstantial. She took up space. Big women often scared men with delicate egos, but she’d always figured that it was for the best if men who were easily intimidated took themselves out of the running early. It wasted less of her precious time.

Dad had disappeared when she was so young, and Mom had been grief-stricken and depressed, not much help for feeling safe and protected. So Cait learned to look out for herself. She’d never had the option of being delicate. In any way.

But next to Mace, she felt like a little slip of a thing. It was nice.

And the sex, dear God. How would she ever get anything practical done again in her whole life, when she could be boinking that guy instead? She hadn’t known it could be that good. She’d read plenty of romance and erotica, but she knew better than to think that was anything more than fantasy. Multiple screaming orgasms were about as believable as X-ray eyes or bulletproof skin. Fun to fantasize about, but don’t get ideas.

Well, well, well. The joke was most definitely on her.

She turned her head, and saw light filtering in from street lights outside. Mace’s eyes were open. He was wide awake. “Is it time?” she asked

He pulled her closer. “Almost. We’ve got a little margin.”

He had that smile on his face, so she swatted his chest. “Hah! Don’t even think about it,” she said sternly. “We need to conserve our energy for today.”

“Sex with you gives me energy. Luck, too.”

“Well, good for you, then,” she said. “You’ll be in good shape. All topped up.”

In just a few minutes, they were up, washed, and dressed. She pulled on her olive drab green hiking pants, a sweatshirt, and the hat Fiona had given her. The coat was big, but it would do. It was water-resistant, camouflage print, warm. She tucked the journal and the tracking device into the big pockets, for holding cameras and lenses.

Then Mace came into the living room, and held out his hands. One had a headlamp like the ones that miners used. A pistol was in the other. “It’s a Glock,” he said. “Small enough to fit in one of those pockets.”

“I’d rather not,” she told him. “I have no experience with guns.”

“That needs to change, as long as Kimball is breathing down your neck.”

She took the headlamp, but still declined the pistol. “Thanks, but today, it would make me feel less safe, not more,” she said. “I’ll be glad to learn to use it, after.”

He pulled her close and gave her a hungry kiss. “I want you to be safe.”

“Thank you,” she said. “I want you to be safe, too.”

They convened in Demi’s house. Demi was still mad, marching around, frowning as she poured out coffee. She was ignoring her husband, even as she passed him wrapped up sandwiches. When they had all eaten something and coffeed up, they piled into Mace’s Wrangler. Mace was driving, with Eric in front. Her, Fiona and Anton were in back.

“Just us?” she asked.

“Already too many.” Anton cast a fulminating look at them. “It puts us in danger.”

“Don’t start,” Fiona warned. “Pointless energy suck.”

Anton turned away, declining to reply.

Mace shot her an apologetic glance in the rearview mirror. “He’s a control freak,” he said. “Don’t take it personally.”

“I’m a control freak, too,” she said. “That’s why I insist on being included. It’s my tracer. My data.”

“It is our property,” Eric reminded her. “Our fight.”

“My fight, too,” Cait said. “I give you coordinates, and you make room for me. It’s a good bargain.”

“Let’s stop this conversation right now, while we’re all ahead,” Mace said.

They stayed silent as they drove over the Narrows Bridge, and toward Kettle River Canyon Road. Mace drove down to the trailer park, and connected with the old riverside road, and they bumped and rattled their way up that, and finally left the road behind and jounced and rattled over the tumbled riverbed.

“You’re still convinced Kimball doesn’t surveil down here in the canyon?” Eric asked.

“Don’t think so,” Mace said. “I’ve seen drones flying up the canyon a few times a day. There’s no pattern, just random spot checks. Keep your eyes out for them.”

“But won’t he see the Wrangler?” Cait asked.

“A drone won’t,” Mace said. “Check out my shelter. Just around this bend, and…yeah. There we go.” A few more jaw-clacking bumps, and they crawled up onto the bank, and slid into a space in a log jam. Tree trunks were piled every which way, and Mace had cleared out a spot just big enough for the Wrangler, and strung a green tarp over it. Branches and brush were piled on top.

“To a drone, it just looks like brush, stuck in the log jam,” Mace said. “I flew one of Nate’s drones up the canyon on purpose to check. Invisible.”

“But will it tumble down and crush us?” Anton asked.

“The logs are wedged in tight,” Mace told them. “I tried moving them myself. They wouldn’t budge. Have a little faith.”

“They won’t budge until the next flood,” Eric said. “Let’s hope it’s not today.”

Mace made a frustrated sound. “It’s a temporary solution for what we hope is a temporary problem. Let’s go.”

Cait and Fiona were sandwiched into the middle of the file, and they all started up the canyon, Mace in front. He was clearly familiar with the easiest paths and the best cover, so no one balked at following his lead. Cait had hiked up this very canyon herself the day before yesterday, but on her own, it had taken her twice as long to cover the same ground, as she’d hit dead end after dead end, or a sheer cliff, or had been blocked by torrents of snowmelt and forced to double back, time and again.

Mace’s way was swifter and easier. The sky was cloudy, but it didn’t rain. The wind was crisp and scented, the river murmured and sang.

Under any other circumstances, it would’ve been a beautiful hike.

Finally, they heard the roar of the falls. Mace turned and gestured toward a deep, mossy overhang, almost a shallow cave. It had a rotten log inside it, decorated by lush and complicated frilly orange mushrooms. “This is a good place to stop for a couple of minutes,” he said. “Drones can’t see us here.”

Cait sank down on the log. She was joined by Fiona. They drank thirstily, and Cait rolled her shoulders. “Beautiful place. I wish I was doing this for pure enjoyment.”

“Yeah, threat of death and dismemberment does drain the fun out of things.”

Eric shot Fiona a repressive frown. “Jesus, Fi, don’t be such a buzzkill.”

“I can’t help it,” Fiona told him. “It’s my nature.”

“You guys want sandwiches?” Eric asked the group at large.

“Depends on who made them,” Mace replied.

“Who do you think?”

“I just figured that Demi might still be too mad to load us up with food like she usually does.”

“Nope, she can’t help it. It’s her nature.” Eric pulled out paper-wrapped bundles, and tossed them around. Cait caught one, and Fiona plucked another out of the air.

The sandwich was amazing. Tender roast beef, with a tangy sauce, spicy cheese, a layer of bacon, a thick slice of ripe, savory tomato on a chewy sourdough.

“Wow,” she said. “This will hold me all day.”

“Yeah, Demi does great food,” Mace said, licking his fingers. He poured out coffee from a thermos for Cait. It was piping hot, steam rising from the cup.

Cait studied Fiona as she sipped her coffee. “So you grew up at GodsAcre, too?”

“Mace should have left my origin story for me to tell, but yes,” Fiona said.

“Sorry,” Cait said swiftly. “Never mind. Didn’t mean to pry.”

“Oh no, I’m not mad. I’m just thinking out loud, and I have sharp thoughts. Mace has a tendency to blab stuff that’s none of his business. But you’re connected to us now, so you have the right to know.”

“Only if you want to,” Cait reiterated.

“Of course. So, Kimball almost married me. Anton dragged me out of that hellhole in the nick of time and got me to a bus station. The last time I’d tried to escape on my own, Kimball caught me and flogged me, and when I was unconscious, he put that capsule with the microchip into my back and had the wound sewed up. I didn’t know until a doctor found it years later. Last fall, Kimball decided he wanted it back, and came after me. They ended up killing my cousin Patti by mistake. She was house-sitting for me, and she looked like me, tall, skinny, freckles, long red hair. They carved up her back, looking for that chip. That just set off a chain of events which ended up with me in Shaw’s Crossing again, with Anton.”

“I’m so sorry about Patti,” Cait said.

Fiona looked away quickly. “Thanks,” she whispered.

“Still,” Cait said. “With all this hell raining down, you and Demi and Elisa…it looks like you guys have got a great thing going with these guys. It seems like you’re almost…well. Happy.” Her voice trailed off. She was embarrassed to have used such a ridiculous word in such a context. It sounded frivolous and silly.

“Happy?” Fiona rolled the word around in her mouth. “Hmmm.”

“You know. Insofar as you can be, with all the danger and the uncertainty.”

“I’m not even sure what happy means,” Fiona said. “I’m not that kind of person.”

“Please, excuse me for saying something so—”

“I mean, I’m super-switched on,” Fiona mused. “More emotionally alive that I’ve ever been. But that cuts both ways, good and bad. I’m certainly not bored, and I’m incredibly sexually fulfilled. And I mean, like you would not believe.” She glanced over at Anton, across the clearing, who was head to head with his brother Eric. “Don’t ever tell him I said that, though. You never want a guy to get complacent.”

“Oh, I won’t,” Cait said, as her own erotic adventures from the night before flashed through her mind, reverberating deliciously through her body.

“We fight like cats and dogs,” Fiona went on. “I’m the cat, of course. But we both kind of dig the power games. It’s probably sick and kinky, but we have lots of fun. The important thing is, we would kill or die for each other. We’ve proven that, from the very start.” She gestured at the Trask brothers. “Those three were the only ones with the balls to stand up to Kimball and Jeremiah for me. They paid for it, too. Kimball flogged them. Almost killed Anton. But still, they saved my life. It’s intense, having someone you’d die for. Someone who’d do the same for you. It scares me out of my fucking wits.”

“I’m no expert, but that sounds like happiness to me,” Cait said.

“But it’s so risky,” Fiona complained. “It leaves you wide open all the time. It’s a huge vulnerability, and anyone with a brain can see it from miles away. Kimball certainly sees it. He knows that I want this, and he just can’t wait to take it away from me. He’s tried before, and he almost succeeded.”

“It sounds terrifying,” Cait said.

“Yeah. It’s all so charged, you know? I don’t think I can have a conversation about happiness until that walking piece of shit is dead. Even then, I’ll probably be a human porcupine to my dying breath. That’s just who I am now.”

“I like you that way.” Anton had wandered over, and overheard the conversation. “It’s stimulating. Like acupuncture.”

“Kinky as always,” Fiona remarked. “But I know you can’t help it. You were raised by madmen in a crucible of violence and death. Poor little you.”

Anton snorted with laughter. “Sounds about right.”

The sexual energy zapped between them, so intense, Cait had to look away.

They set off again, refreshed, for the scramble up to the Lower Falls. They climbed around massive tumbled boulders, and over steep, slippery fields of rock, and finally made it up to the Lower Falls, thundering into its deep, mossy stone pool.

The Upper Falls was about two hundred yards farther upriver. Anton looked pale and grim as he stared up at the water, sluicing off the cliff above.

“Are you okay?” Cait asked him. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

“My own,” Anton said. “Almost. The last time I was here, I was bleeding out from a bullet wound. In that water. Mace didn’t tell you about that?”

“He hasn’t got around to that one yet,” Cait said. “There are so many stories. It’s hard to even know where to start.”

“True thing,” he agreed. “Fi and I were running away from Kimball and his men up there.” He pointed up the mountainside. “We jumped off the cliff into the pool. We thought we were dead, but we went over the Lower Falls, too, and then washed up downriver at the trailer park. I was more than half dead. But that would have been a better death than the one Kimball had in mind. Be aware of the risk, coming up here. For Kimball, it’s like hitting a bundle of nerves. If he sees us, he’ll lunge for us.”

“I see you’re being your usual little ray of sunshine,” Mace broke in.

“Just telling her it how it is,” Anton said. “It’s strange, how cheerful and optimistic you’ve suddenly become the last couple of days. Gee, what could have happened to you?”

Mace waved an impatient hand. “Fuck off. Let’s polish off this coffee and descend into the underworld.”

“He could have a fixed camera watching the area,” Eric mused.

“If he had, he would’ve seen me emerge from the tunnel and meet up with Cait,” Mace said. “But he only sent three guys to get her at the hotel. If he had any reason to think that we were involved, he would’ve sent a whole battalion.”

“Okay,” Eric said grimly. “Let’s go two at a time, and keep to the foliage whenever possible. Eyes peeled for drones.”

“I’ll go first, with Cait,” Mace said. “You guys follow. He turned back to Cait. “Put your feet exactly where I put mine.”

“Got it,” she said.

Even following Mace’s exact footsteps, it was hard to keep up, but Cait was grimly determined not to slow them down. She suspected that Mace was going more slowly, and choosing easier paths for her than he would have if he were alone, but whatever. They did the distance, and soon they were crawling up onto the rim of the bowl of the Upper Falls.

It was stupendously beautiful, as the lower one had been. Clouds of mist blew cool against her hot face, and the enormous, thundering roar of falling water filled her ears. Black granite cliffs were dark with moisture, green with moss and hanging plants.

Mace didn’t bother trying to talk, just beckoned to her. He picked his way around the edge of the big bowl of churning water, white with foam. There was a spot on the edge of the falls where the water wasn’t a white torrent, but just a glassy sheet. He pointed at it, and then stepped into the waterfall and disappeared.

Cait just stared for a moment, not sure whether to believe her eyes. Her life was so strange, it was hardly surprising to watch a man disappear into a waterfall, but it was still uncanny. She shivered, scanning one last time for drones. Then she hunkered down under the hood of Otis’s coat, and took a run for it. Straight at the spot where Mace had gone.

The hard, heavy splatter of icy water on her shoulders was a shock, but quickly over. She reeled forward, stumbling on the wet, sliding pebbles, shaking off the water.

She was in a big, damp cave. The roar of the falls was overwhelming. Her boots were sunk deep into tumbled black river rocks. Behind her was a curtain of falling water, making the light constantly flicker and shift.

Mace stood there, with a huge, triumphant smile. “It’s great, right?” he yelled. “I love that part!”

“Yeah! Amazing!”

He closed the distance between them, and pulled her into his arms. His face was wet and cold, but his lips were so hot. So sweet. The kiss lit her up in an instant.

“Save it, guys.” Eric’s voice was flat, but when she turned to look, it seemed like he was trying not to smile. Anton and Fiona weren’t even trying.

“Lights on, people,” Mace said, putting on his headlamp.

They adjusted their lights and followed him in single file, into the dark recesses of the cave, which got progressively more narrow, until it slowly transformed into a low, man-made passageway, shored up at intervals by wooden scaffolding.

The weight of the earth above them was oppressive. It discouraged conversation. Once they got farther from the falls, it was muffled and quiet, the air clammy.

Time and distance were hard to measure, but Cait’s thigh muscles told her that they were wending their way slowly upward. The closer they got to the cavern, the more dread she felt. Maybe it was ghosts, swirling invisibly around them.

Hey, Dad. You here?

She shook the unhelpful thought away. It gave her the shivers and also made her sad.

The tunnel was now less like a cave, and more like a corridor, with right angles, actual brick walls. At one point, it even had an actual floor, or the remnants of one. The walls were covered with mold. There were staircases, and signs on the wall, barely readable with all the water damage.

Finally they went through a doorway, and into a room which looked like it had been bombed. The back wall had collapsed into a heap of rock and bricks.

“Now what?” Eric asked.

“Follow me,” Mace said again.

They followed him over to the corner of the room.

“Here’s where it gets interesting,” Mace said. “There’s a wedge-shaped crawl space that reaches all the way down to the corridor behind the old library.”

“We never saw it,” Eric said.

“Of course not. I had to clear a lot of it out on the library end. The opening’s not visible from there. It just looks like rubble and rebar. You’ve got to get down and slither.”

They scrambled over tilted planes of fallen concrete, and then Mace crouched down, gesturing toward a dark space that seemed impossibly small. “Right here.”

Eric knelt down and peered into it, his face full of doubt. “At the risk of sounding repetitive, is this going to suddenly shift and drop tons of concrete on our heads?”

“I’ve been through it many times, and it hasn’t fallen down on me yet,” Mace sad. “And I’m bigger than you two shrimps. But if you’re nervous, stop here. Take a nap. Eat a sandwich. We’ll pick you up on the way home.”

“Oh, shut up and just go,” Eric said impatiently.

Mace disappeared into the hole, and Cait dove in right after him, before she could lose her nerve. She’d never suffered from claustrophobia before, but the most well-adjusted person on Earth would be challenged by a situation like this.

Except for Mace. Mace just slithered through the narrow aperture, unfazed by anything. Then again, ‘well-adjusted’ wasn’t exactly a word she’d ever associate with Mace. That word did not reflect him. It was too balanced, too middle-of-the-road.

Mace was all about extremes.

She liked him that way. She liked him so much, no matter how much he might be overcompensating for the crazy stuff in his past. He was like no person she’d ever met. So real, honest and direct. Competent and brave and selfless. Old style heroism.

And his talent in bed. Dear God.

Mace no longer blocked the narrow tunnel ahead, so she picked up the pace, coughing on dirt, spitting out grit. She reached the opening, and dragged herself out with a sigh of relief. The illumination of Mace’s head-lamp guided her.

“All okay?” he asked as she pulled herself to her feet.

“Fine,” she said.

Her headlamp illuminated a room, the ceiling partially fallen down and the naked rock wall above it. There was a wall with some sort of mural painted on it, but not enough light to decipher the images. Metal shelving lay overturned among fallen bricks and dust. Mold-eaten, moisture-swollen books were everywhere. This place had been a library.

Anton and then Fiona were the next ones to wiggle out of the crawl space. Fiona got up and brushed her pants off briskly, her face pale in the gloom.

“The place is as creepy and sad as ever, I see,” she said.

“Count on GodsAcre to be creepy and sad,” Anton said. “It’ll never let you down.”

While they waited for Eric, Cait got to work tuning up her tracking device. She set it to the frequency that her father had specified as Eric pried himself out of the tiny hole, cursing under his breath.

“Getting soft?” Mace asked. “Does your wife cook a little too well?”

“Zip it,” Eric snapped. “This place zeroes out my sense of humor.”

“Which was tragically compromised to begin with.”

“Piss off.” Eric looked Cait. “You got that thing tuned up?”

“I got a ping already.” Cait pointed. “This way.”

They followed the signal, clambering over rubble into the next large chamber, outside of what had used to be the library. It was impossible to go in a straight line, since they had to find paths around fallen steel beams, slabs of concrete, heaps of rubble.

“Did you get this far the last time?” Fiona asked.

“No,” Cait said. “I got jumped by a Sasquatch last time.”

“We’re here now, right?” Mace’s voice was testy. “You can’t blame me for that. I didn’t know what the hell you were doing, or what your intentions were.”

“Ooh,” Fiona crooned. “So defensive.”

“Ignore her, and concentrate,” Eric growled.

They made their meandering way over the heaps of debris, and finally Mace put his hand on her shoulder. “We’re close to another one of my wormholes,” he said. “It leads the same direction as the signal. We might get closer if we go through it.”

“Worth a try,” Cait said. “Where’s the entrance?”

As they followed him through the labyrinth of ruins, Cait wondered how he could distinguish anything from anything else. It all looked alike to her.

“This is it, right here,” Mace said, getting to his knees. “I’ll take the tracker and go in. I’m used to the wormholes.”

“I never saw them before,” Anton said, in a wondering tone.

“They were inaccessible,” Mace said. “I’ve been hauling rocks away all winter, trying to find ways deeper inside, so I could set my explosives.”

Cait followed Mace into the tunnel, and struggled along until she emerged into a slightly recessed area, big enough for both of them to crouch in a sitting position, on a moldy patch of what might have once been carpeting.

“Is there any point in us coming in there after you?” Eric called.

“No,” Mace called back. “There’s no space in here for you guys, and no exit to the tunnel on the other side, either. Just wait for us out there.”

“Fine, but hurry. You know this place makes me tense.”

“Yeah, what doesn’t?” Mace glanced at her. “We’re as close to that signal here as we can physically get. I think we might be above it. Kimball’s lab was on a lower level, in the cellar right beneath the library and the cafeteria. Let’s move some of these rocks.”

They moved chunks of rubble in front of them into the carpeted space behind them. Cait tagged at a chunk of broken, swollen plasterboard, and broke a piece of it away.

There was line of black, empty space in the concrete behind it.

“Mace,” she said. “Look.”

He turned, and whistled when he saw it, then peeled away still more of the plasterboard. Tearing all of it away.

A long, narrow fissure appeared, between two jagged concrete slabs. Mace pulled out a narrow flashlight, and shone it inside. “That could be the roof of the prefab building they used for the lab,” he said. “They assembled it down on the basement level. Maybe it was preserved in a sort of bubble down there.”

“How can we get in?”

“We can’t. It’s too narrow, even for Fi. We need to get back in here with sledgehammers, and bash at this concrete until we have a hole big enough to climb through. Then we rappel down, dig rubble away from the lab door, and see if anything is intact inside.”

“You don’t think hammering on it could make more fall down?”

“It’s the risk we have to take. You can wait out the next step, if you’re nervous.”

“Hell, no. I’m just frustrated we have to go away empty-handed today.”

“We’re not empty-handed,” Mace said. “We have a plan, a way forward, an end in sight. We’ve never had any of that before. And it’s all because of you.”

Cait’s eyes were strained from the dark, and burning with grit and dust, but the tears had nothing to do with that, and everything to do with the emotion shimmering between them.

“Status update, people!” Eric called.

Mace leaned forward, and gave her a soft, lingering kiss, then gestured for her to precede him. “We’ve done what we can for now. Let’s get the hell out of here.”

The consensus was swift, once they had debriefed Eric, Fi and Anton. They knew where to go, what to do, and the tools needed to accomplish it. There was no reason to stay in that airless, deathly place for another second, so they crawled swiftly back through the wormholes and set off through to the tunnel to the waterfall.

The way back was swifter. All downhill, a gift to her tired legs, which had still been sore from her solo hike two days ago. She tried to keep in shape, but she wasn’t used to twelve-hour treks up and down steep and pathless mountains.

They emerged from the upper falls into a rainstorm. The hike down was a long scramble through slippery mud and the wet foliage, but they were all anxious to get home.

Once in Mace’s Wrangler, they bounced over the river rocks, then over the rough road and through the riverside trailer park. Mace picked up more speed than he should have in that rain, but no one protested.

When they got back, Cait opted for an immediate shower to get the dirt out of her hair. When she came out, Mace presented her with the clothes she’d worn the day before, washed and dried. “In case you need fresh stuff. I’ll shower while you get dressed.”

Dinner was at Demi’s, of course. The feast of grilled chicken and glorious array of fixings and sides was a welcome sight, but Cait was almost too exhausted to eat. She barely followed the conversation as Eric, Mace, Anton and Fi recounted their day to the ones who had stayed behind.

Finally, she felt Mace nudging her shoulder. “Hey,” he said. “Still awake?”

She shook herself, forcing her eyes to focus. “Sort of,” she said. “We should sleep, right? Are we going back up there tomorrow?”

“Actually, no,” Mace told her. “You missed a few passages.”

That woke her right up. “No? Why not? What are we waiting for?”

“The weather,” Mace said. “It’s hard to get up there when the rain makes the ground unstable, and if it comes down really hard, we might find the bowl of the Upper Falls too full to get around to the tunnel. Also, the riverbed is only way up for the Wrangler, except the road. Which Kimball is watching.”

“Oh. I see.”

“We’ll take a couple of days to gather everything we need to haul up there for the next expedition. And incidentally, this weekend dozens of people are cruising into town for Anton and Fi’s wedding. So we’ll prepare, while we wait for the mountain to drain and dry out, and party like crazed animals this weekend. Then next week we go up to GodsAcre, get that virus, and de-fang that motherfucker for good. Forever.”

“He can still punish the town,” Cait said.

“We’ll come down on him like a landslide if he makes the slightest move on Shaw’s Crossing,” Anton said grimly. “Just let him fucking try.”

Fiona reached out, and swatted Cait’s hand. “Come to our wedding.”

Cait was taken aback. “Oh, don’t feel obliged to invite me. I just met you guys, and it wouldn’t be—”

“Yes it would,” Fiona said. “I don’t have many women friends to invite, and I want you to be one of my new ones. Plus, Mace needs a date. And you’re fun. And tough. I like you. You’ll make the party better. Please, come.”

Cait was startled, and moved. “But, ah…I don’t really have clothes that would work for a wedding. Just hiking stuff.”

“Shaw’s Crossing has some nice shops downtown,” Demi said. She punched Mace’s shoulder. “Nice furniture stores, too.”

“I was actually thinking of another plan,” Mace said. “I haven’t been out of town since Fiona and Anton got clobbered up ay GodsAcre. I thought Cait and I could go to Portland or Seattle, to shop for a dress and some shoes. We can stay in a swank hotel, do some shopping, order some room service. It’ll get you out of Kimball’s sights, and be a change of air.” He gazed around at his family. “Away from prying eyes. Very refreshing.”

“But I…but…” Cait was taken aback.

“Bring Clint along, at least,” Anton said. “So the two of you can sleep.”

“I was thinking of something more intimate,” Mace said. “Romantic, you know?”

“What could be more romantic than security coverage for your girlfriend?” Eric said. “It shows her you care. Lets her relax. Keeps her alive. I highly recommend it.”

Mace let out a gusty sigh. “As long as he doesn’t bug me while I’m being charming and seductive.” He turned to Cait. “Will you come with me?” He clasped his big scarred hands in exaggerated entreaty.

Cait laughed at him. “Fine,” she said. “It sounds like fun.”

Mace turned to Eric with a huge grin. “Excellent. Can we use your airplane?”

“I knew this was coming,” Eric growled.

“Airplane?” Cait asked, startled.

“Yeah, Eric flies down to work at Erebus sometimes,” Mace said. “He has a really sweet Cessna TTx. When he’s feeling generous, he lets me fly it.”

“Really? You can fly a plane?”

“I fly a lot of things. There’s an air strip at Granger Valley. What do you say? Portland or Seattle?”

“Either is fine,” she said. “I’ve never been.”

“Buy your own plane, you moocher,” Eric complained.

“When I get around to it. Been kind of busy these days. So is that a yes?”

Eric snorted. “Just be careful with it.”

“Always, bro. Safety first.”

“Go to Seattle,” Anton advised . “And I’ll send you to a really good clothing designer. Federica’s Atelier. Very talented. She did Fi’s wedding dress.”

“Oh yeah, she is good,” Fiona assured them. “Federica outfitted all of Anton’s hussies before Anton fell into my clutches. Now the hussies all know to keep their distance and I’m the only pampered bitch that gets draped with her designer gowns.”

Anton kissed Fiona’s hand with exaggerated gallantry. “You are the only pampered bitch for me, and the only hussy that I desire, from this day henceforth.”

Cait got to her feet, still smiling. “If we’re traveling tomorrow, I have to crash. Thank you, all of you. For everything.”

The stairs felt endless tonight. She barely managed to get her teeth brushed before she fell into bed.

She felt Mace get into bed, and her last thought was how perfectly their bodies fit together. No nervous, awkward wiggling. No struggling to get comfortable. No heavy arm crushing her ribs. Mace held her just right. She felt warm, embraced, protected. Even her brainwaves seem to mesh with his. And she didn’t have to worry about hurting his tender feelings, bruising his delicate ego.

And now he was flying her to Seattle in a private plane, to shop for a fancy dress.

Well, damn, if incredibly bad things could be true, why not incredibly good ones?

Hmm. That was a sleepy, undisciplined thought, not backed up by any sort of logic, but what the hell. She’d let it stand, and go to sleep hopeful.

* * *

Redd Kimball recoiledin irritation as the buzz of his phone dragged him out of an uneasy sleep. Five AM? He punched ‘talk.’ “This had better be really fucking good.”

“Very good,” Julian said.

Julian sounded excited, and Kimball was more disposed to listen to the two new guys, since they hadn’t had a chance to disappoint and infuriate him yet. “Yeah? So talk.”

“I’m following Mace Trask and Cait LaMott right now. They left Demi Vaughan’s house in his Jeep Wrangler. They’re at the airstrip in Granger Valley. Taking Eric Trask’s plane.”

Kimball sat bolt upright. “Can you hack in and get their flight plan?”

“Already done. Darius took care of it. They’re flying to Seattle.”

“I need someone on them in Seattle until you two get up there!”

“I’ve got a guy.” Julian hesitated. “He’ll be expensive.”

“I authorize his fee right now. Half upfront, the other half when you meet up to take over. And he’d better be good, got it?”

“Of course,” Julian murmured. “We understand. He won’t disappoint you.”

“You and Darius take the helicopter up to Seattle and trail them. See who they meet, where they sleep. Did you see what they’re carrying?”

“They seemed like just regular travel soft-side trolley suitcases,” Julian said. “I doubt that they would send your virus around with such a light escort.”

“I hope you’re right. For your sake, too. Get on the phone with your contact in Seattle, then report back to me.”

“Right away, boss.” The connection broke.

Kimball sat up, wincing at the stabbing pain in his groin. Every time he felt it, his killing rage flared hotter. Arrogant pricks. They thought they were so fucking smart.

But Tom LaMott’s daughter had brought him the keys to the kingdom. She was Tom’s final gift to him. And she was Tom’s final punishment.

The thought made his groin throb. Which hurt, but it was worth it. It was exciting, to imagine how he would tear away everything they cared about, and feast on it.