His grip tightened briefly against mine, though he didn’t appear to be battling for balance. I flared my nostrils and drew in the rich, wild scent of him, trying to find any hint of change. Trying to find some trace of me. He, Nuri, and Penny had become forever linked after they survived a rift, so it was possible the same had happened to us.
“We won’t know what’s been done to us,” he said, obviously guessing my thoughts. “Not for days or maybe even weeks.”
“Is that how long it took you and Nuri to discover you were telepathically linked?”
“Well, no, because I was barely awake when she told me to stop the mental cussing and start thinking.”
A smile teased my lips. “Given that I can’t hear any cussing, it seems likely we’re not linked.”
“Possibly.” He half shrugged, then winced. “I was hoping to get a little of your healing magic, though, because right now I need it.”
I frowned. “You just have to shift to cat form to heal, don’t you?”
“That’s presuming I still can—and I’m too damn weak right now to try it. But given my DNA has been diluted a second time, there’s no guarantee I will be able to.” He raised a hand and gently brushed my cheek. His fingers came away damp. “Were you crying over me, Tiger?”
Yes. “And why would you think that?”
“Because I’ve seen you near death after battling wraiths, relieved and bloody after surviving impossible odds against the vampires, and furious after being shot. Never once, on any of those occasions, were there tears. So why now?”
I hesitated, tempted to lie. But the rift—and the fear that he might not have survived—had made me realize just how much I wanted to explore what might lie between us, even if nothing lasting and real came out of it. But my throat seemed to close over at the thought of telling him that and my heart was trying to leap out of my chest again.
“And what if they were for you?”
It was softly said, but we were standing so close he couldn’t help hearing it.
“Then I would ask just what they meant.”
My gaze searched his. Looking for what, I wasn’t sure. Certainly, he seemed to be keeping himself under very tight control. Only the pheromones that swirled around us in a dance that was both desire and something stronger—something deeper—gave any hint as to what might be going on within him.
“If you want honesty—”
“And I certainly do.”
“Then the fact is, I really don’t know. I’m trained in the art of seduction and assassination, and well versed in keeping my emotions under tight control. And yet, with you, that is nigh on impossible.”
“That’s a feeling I know very well.” He cupped my cheek, his touch gentle. Warm. “There are so many reasons why you and I are completely wrong.”
My lips twisted. “Are you trying to talk yourself out of the situation?”
“I’ve been trying to do that since I first met you. It hasn’t helped. I can no more ignore your presence than I can forget to breathe.”
He spoke with a certainty I’d yet to find. I knew what I wanted, but did I really have the courage to pursue it? To risk the heart my creators and history had been so sure didn’t exist? “And what of Nuri? And Branna? Won’t it cause problems within your group?”
“With Branna, undoubtedly. But I can deal with him.”
I hoped so, because Branna’s wish to wipe me out might well spill over to Jonas if he wasn’t very careful.
“Forget about what others might think or do,” he continued. “Forget about history and what we both are. None of it matters in the wake of the promise that lies between us. It is both impossible and undeniable, and it deserves to be explored, even if it is destined to do nothing more than flare bright and die quickly.”
It was the dying quickly—being left alone with nothing but the ashes of emotion—that had me so worried. I could survive chemicals and rifts, vampires and wraiths, but I wasn’t so certain I could survive having my heart broken.
But it wasn’t in me to give in to fear and walk away, either.
I swallowed heavily, then somehow said, “I agree.”
Instead of replying, he leaned forward and brushed his lips across mine. It was a kiss unlike anything I’d ever experienced before. It was so soft, so gentle, and altogether too fleeting, yet it ran with heat and passion. But there was something else, something indefinable—a whisper, a promise—that both scared me and thrilled me.
“Now we just need the time to explore,” he said eventually. “But that time is not now.”
His lips remained tantalizingly close, and part of me wanted to do nothing more than ignore the sense in his words and kiss him again. But we had children to rescue and a mad scheme to stop. We couldn’t waste the time we had left on pleasure, no matter how much either of us might wish otherwise—not that either of us was physically capable of acting on anything as strong as desire right now. “Let’s just hope both of us survive long enough to explore.”
“Indeed,” he said, then released me and stepped back. “We need to get back to the museum ASAP.”
I took a deep breath to calm thwarted anticipation and looked around. “Do you have any idea where we are?”
“We’re about fifteen kilometers north of where we were when the rift hit us.” He must have caught my surprise, because he smiled and pointed upward. “The stars always guide at night.”
“So the road is . . . ?”
“This way.”
He began to walk, and I fell in step beside him. Silence reigned. I wasn’t sure what to say. Wasn’t sure anything needed to be said. Dusk disappeared into night, and the stars became brighter in the skies. It seemed to take forever for the flat emptiness of the horizon to give way to the promise of trees and rising mountains. A stirring wind brought with it the smell of eucalypt and pine, and the ground around us grew rockier.
I frowned. “Are you sure this is where we left the vehicle? I can’t remember these rocks.”
“That’s because the rocks are the remains of the road.” He paused for a second, his gaze scanning the area. “Ah, here we go.”
He strode on. I followed and eventually spotted the vehicle—though the mass of twisted metal and rock no longer resembled anything that could remotely be called that.
I stopped a couple of meters away and watched him inspect the craft. He eventually retrieved a gun, two small flashlights, and the backpack; everything seemed to be in original condition, although how that was even possible I had no idea. He checked both flashlights; the bright bluewhite light that flared out from them made me blink. These weren’t ordinary flashlights, but ones designed as a counter to vampires. He switched them off and tossed one to me. Once he’d checked the gun, he tucked it and the other flashlight into a coverall pocket, then opened the backpack. His expression suggested whatever he’d been hoping to find inside wasn’t there—something he confirmed by tossing it back into the twisted remains.
I slipped the flashlight into one of the accessory pockets on my pants. We had no use for it right now, but who knew what we’d come across before we made it back to the bunker? “What now?”
I really didn’t fancy spending the rest of the night walking toward Central, but neither did I want to spend it here. Vampires might be scarce in the open plains, but they weren’t our biggest concern right now. Humanity as a whole might fear darkness, but that fear wouldn’t stop the rangers. If Sal’s partners were desperate enough—and if they had strong enough connections—they could order the search to continue through the night. The rangers would obey, because that was what all good soldiers did.
And the ranger division had been—and probably still was—the best of the best.
“Now we make ourselves as comfortable as possible and wait for the cavalry to turn up.” He reached into the mess of metal and tugged free what once had been the bac
k of a seat, but was now an elongated, five-foot-wide strip of lightly padded metal. He dumped it on the ground, then sat down and patted the space beside him. “Come along. I won’t bite.”
I snorted and sat down, my shoulder lightly brushing his. “Does that mean you’re still in contact with Nuri telepathically?”
He nodded. “I doubt she’ll be able to convince anyone inside Chaos to come rescue us, but Jarren and his crew wouldn’t have gotten back to base yet, so he’s a possibility.”
“So he’s not night-blind like the rest of humanity?”
“No, he’s an outlier like me. I’m guessing that’s part of the reason he followed my footsteps into the mercenary business—he was well aware good money could be made by those not afraid of the dark.”
“Then he isn’t based in the Broken Mountains with the rest of your kin?”
“No. His unit runs out of New Port.”
I raised my eyebrows. “Would this be the same New Port that suffered a major malfunction fifteen years ago that voided all RFID information?”
“The same.” A smile ghosted his lips. “But we seriously had nothing to do with that. We’ve just taken full advantage of it ever since.”
“So your grandson runs the unit there now?”
“Yes.” He yawned hugely. “I guess it’s my turn to say sorry, it’s not the company.”
“Give me the gun.”
I held out a hand and he raised an eyebrow even as he obeyed.
“Why? Are you going to shoot the tiredness out of me?”
“I might have been tempted in the past, but right now? No. Although I do claim the right to change my mind.” I flashed him a grin as I checked the gun, then placed it beside me. “Get some sleep. I’ll keep watch.”
“Fine. But wake me the minute you see or hear anything.”
I’d half expected him to argue, but it wasn’t really surprising that he didn’t. Rangers were nothing if not practical, and right now I was the stronger of the two of us.
Which wasn’t really saying much.
He crossed his arms, leaned back against the vehicle, and was very quickly asleep. I drew my legs up and hugged them close to my chest, and battled to remain awake and aware as time ticked slowly by. It was well after midnight—something I guessed by the position of the moon—when I heard the rumble of an approaching vehicle.
I nudged Jonas lightly, then picked up the gun and rose. Far in the distance, coming from the direction of the forest we could barely see, was a solitary light.
“That’s not a ranger vehicle.” Jonas rose and stood beside me.
“How can you tell?”
“Sound of the engine. It’s an old ATV, not one of the winged division’s transports.”
“So it’s probably your grandson?”
“I can’t think of anyone else who’d have a reason to be out in the middle of nowhere at night.” He paused. “But keep the gun handy, just in case.”
“Oh, I am, trust me.”
“Unimaginably, I do.” His gaze met mine, amusement crinkling the corners of his eyes. “Who’d have thought that a week or so ago?”
“Certainly not me.” My voice was dry. “I sure hope he thought to load some food on board. I’m starving.”
“It’s common practice to keep extra rations on board, so that shouldn’t be a problem.”
Trail rations weren’t exactly what I’d been hoping for, but they were better than nothing. “Isn’t it rare for one telepath to be able to link with another over such a distance?”
“Yes. And while Jarren’s a strong telepath, he’s not that strong. Nuri uses the power of the earth to amplify her ability, and it allows her to connect to any telepath she wishes, wherever they are.”
“Is that part of the reason you two can communicate no matter what the distance between you?”
He nodded. “Although I can’t use the earth’s energy as a weapon, as she can, and my telepathic abilities are somewhat restricted. I can’t connect with Jarren, for instance, but I can with Ela.”
“What about Penny?”
He frowned. “I can’t directly converse, but I can receive images and impressions.”
“Is that why you’re so sure she needs to be near you to keep whatever was done to her at bay?”
A smile ghosted his lips. “No, that comes from sheer pigheadedness. Penny is my responsibility, and I will not renege on that until there is absolutely no other choice. We haven’t reached that point yet.”
And never would, I suspected. “What did Nuri gain out of the exchange?”
“The senses of a cat.”
“But not the ability to change?”
“No.” His gaze met mine. “It’ll be interesting to see what—if any—fallout there is from our being caught together.”
The ATV was now near enough that its headlights pinned us in brightness. Jonas didn’t seem worried, so I tried not to be.
“Does that mean that some people escape rifts without alteration?”
He hesitated. “Only in that, because they were alone when the rift caught them, their DNA and blood are the same. But everyone who survives those things is forever altered.”
“So how were Branna and Ela affected?”
“I didn’t know Branna before the rift, so I can’t really say. But it screwed him up mentally—”
I snorted. “You’re telling me it did.”
“And Ela,” he continued, ignoring me, “came through with sharpened senses and telepathy.”
I blinked. “The rift gave her telepathy?”
He nodded. “Nuri’s theory is it was a latent skill the rift brought out.”
I frowned. “When I was in our rift, I got the weird impression it was almost sentient. You don’t think these alterations are deliberate, do you?”
“Why would a sentient force from another world want us enhanced in any way?” He strode forward as the ATV began to slow down. “And why would they kill the majority of those caught if they intended to help?”
“Given that we don’t even know why some rifts are doorways while others are not, that’s a question I really can’t answer.” I trailed after him. The internal vehicle lights came on, revealing that it was indeed his grandson at the wheel of the ATV. I made the gun safe and clipped it onto my pants. “I’m just telling you what I felt.”
He grunted as the front and rear passenger doors opened. “I’ll pass the information on to Nuri. In the meantime, let’s get the hell out of here just in case the rift decides to double back.”
He helped me into the ATV, then climbed into the front. As the doors closed and the big vehicle began to pick up speed again, Jarren said, “There are a couple of ration packs and some water in the foot well behind my seat. Best I could do on short notice, I’m afraid.”
As I leaned over to grab the packs, Jonas said, “Nuri told you what happened?”
“Yeah.” Jarren’s voice held a note of incredulousness. “Surviving a rift once is damn lucky, but twice? Rhea sure as hell loves you, because that’s considered nigh on impossible.”
“Obviously not, given that he’s still here.” I handed one of the ration packs to Jonas and opened the second one. Trail mix and beef jerky, just as I’d feared.
Jarren flashed me a grin via the rearview mirror. “Very true. You both okay?”
“We’re alive.” Jonas half shrugged as he tore open the beef jerky packet. “As to whether we’re okay, only time will tell. You able to take us all the way in?”
“Nuri told me to dump you on the far side of the museum, just before the collapsed area. She said someone appears to be keeping an eye on the museum and that we needed to be careful.”
“Meaning someone suspects that you taking the caretaker job at the museum was a little out of the ordinary.” I poured some trail mix into my hand. “It’s also going to
make it damn difficult for us to get back in there.”
“She said to wait until dawn. We’re not going to get there much before five, so you won’t have to hang around in the forest for too long.”
“Says the person who’s not going to hang about in the darkness for long,” I muttered as I scooped another mouthful of trail mix.
“I can’t. But I’ve got a couple of rifles in the rear you can have.” Jarren’s gaze met mine through the mirror. “Jonas will keep you safe enough—”
“Oh, she’s not afraid of the dark,” Jonas interrupted, voice dry. “And she’s certainly not afraid of either vampires or wraiths.”
“And that’s where you’re wrong,” I said. “I’m terrified of them both.”
“Yeah,” he said. “That’s why you went into a den of vamps alone—”
“I wasn’t alone. The ghosts were with me.”
“That,” he said, “is hardly the point.”
“Ghosts? What ghosts?” Jarren said, his gaze swinging between the two of us.
“Ghosts of the dead,” Jonas said. “She can converse with them.”
“Not a talent that would be that useful in this day and age, I’d imagine,” Jarren said.
“And that,” Jonas said heavily, “is where you would be very wrong. Can this thing go any faster?”
Jarren’s amused expression suggested he was well aware that particular line of questioning was now well and truly out-of-bounds. “Why don’t we find out?”
The ATV didn’t exactly leap forward, but over the next couple of minutes it gradually picked up speed. I finished the trail mix, then started in on the beef jerky. It was even tougher than the stuff I had at the bunker, but it at least stopped my stomach from complaining too loudly. As the dark landscape continued to slip by, I leaned back, closed my eyes, and in very little time was fast asleep.
It was the lack of noise that woke me. I sat upright, blinking the sleep away as I looked around. Night still held sway, but the ATV had slowed, and was now moving silently through trees rather than vast, empty fields. Light shone in the distance, a glow so bright it chased the stars from the sky.