The Shadow Page 16

  “Jefferson might have pushed himself into the game. Maybe he knew something Grant didn’t want anyone else to know. Or he could have threatened to sour any offer Grant made you unless he got a kickback.” Jonas expelled his breath in a hiss. “But something tells me we’re still missing a vital piece.”

  “And how does Dinétsoh play into this? Grant couldn’t have known about the bearer bonds, could he?”

  “No, and that’s what doesn’t make sense.” Jonas shook his head. His search yesterday had been fruitless, but others had kept looking for signs of their fellow warrior, even expanding their efforts beyond the Atkins property. Yet they’d found nothing.

  Focusing on Sam, he forced himself to hold back. There was only one direct route to the Atkins-Woods turnoff, so there was no need to go in closer and risk alerting the man.

  They soon rounded the last curve before reaching the western edge of Emily’s land. Although Jonas had expected to pick up the glow of Sam’s taillights immediately, there was nothing ahead. The vehicle was nowhere in sight.

  “Where the heck is he?” Jonas pulled off the road and turned off his headlights, hoping to spot the pickup by the glint of chrome off the moonlight.

  Visually, she couldn’t help. To her, what lay beyond the truck’s headlights was a blur of gray and black shadows. Without another option, Emily decided to rely on her hearing. Rolling down the window, she listened. A few minutes went by, then she heard something.

  “There’s another vehicle coming up behind us, and the engine sounds like Sam’s pickup,” she reported.

  “He probably doused his lights, then turned off the road and waited until we passed by,” Jonas said. “Let’s use his own strategy against him. I’m going to cut across the road and find better cover down in the trees until he goes by. The we’ll get back on his tail, even if we have to run without headlights. I don’t want him behind us.”

  Within seconds they were across the road, in hiding. They listened, but the sound she’d heard had now faded. Although she tried, she couldn’t hear anything except the faint ticking sound of their own engine as it cooled.

  “Do you hear anything?” Jonas asked at last.

  “No,” she whispered. “Maybe I made a mistake. It could have been another pickup, not Sam’s, and it turned off and went elsewhere.”

  “Or maybe Sam stopped and is waiting us out. Let’s sit it out for a while longer,” Jonas said.

  Emily concentrated, but heard nothing out of the ordinary as the minutes passed. “Do you think he noticed us following him after he left Kirtland? If he was one of the two who raided my place, he knows what your truck looks like. He might have purposely led us here, pulled off, let us pass, then headed back in the opposite direction.”

  “If he did, we’ll never find him now,” Jonas stated. “But we can’t assume anything. It’s possible he never saw us and was just on his guard, taking precautions after his conversation with Jen.”

  As the moon rose high in the sky, Emily’s vision improved slightly. “We’ve lost him,” she said, mirroring his thoughts. “Let’s go home. If possible, I’d like to check and see if my construction people made any progress today.”

  “How much are you really able to see in this light?” he asked, picking up on the way she’d phrased things.

  She didn’t answer right away and they continued in silence as he pulled out onto the highway. He looked over as they turned off on the long graveled road that led to her property, but she still avoided eye contact.

  “It’s hard to explain,” she said at last. “There’s a section of my field of vision that doesn’t work at all, but I can get by with what’s left. Details aren’t always easy to see but—”

  Jonas suddenly stomped down on the accelerator, and the truck fishtailed wildly. The next instant he braked hard. A gunshot exploded in the air as they slid to a stop in a cloud of dust. Another earsplitting crack followed, shaking the truck and shattering the windshield.

  Jonas threw himself over Emily, pushing her onto the seat. As he did, pain gripped her and a burning sensation arrowed down from her shoulder to her wrist.

  “Stay down!” he yelled.

  Jonas pulled out his pistol, firing two quick shots through the shattered windshield, aiming in the direction the gunfire had come from.

  Then, ducking low again, he checked her out quickly. “There’s glass all over your face. Don’t blink or try to rub with your hands. Raise up just enough to look down and shake off the fragments.”

  As she did so, most of the splinters fell away. When she reached up to try and brush away the bits that remained, small glass pieces fell into her sleeves and she cried out.

  “Are you hit?” he asked immediately, his face inches from hers as he looked into her eyes. “Where does it hurt?”

  “My arms,” she managed to gasp. She could smell the sweet scent of blood and even taste some on her lips. Worst of all, she couldn’t stop shaking.

  He checked her over as well as he could while staying below window level. “The first round passed through both our windows. I could almost feel it go by. You were hit by the spray of glass from the windshield after the second shot, and you’ve got a lot of tiny cuts.”

  The engine was still running, so he turned off the ignition and doused the headlights, then raised his head slightly and looked out into the night. “He knows I can shoot back, but he might still be out there, waiting for us to show ourselves again. When I tell you, crawl out on my side, using the truck for cover. Then run off the road and into the brush. Stay low.”

  Something in his tone alerted her. “Where are you going?”

  “After the sniper.”

  “In the dark? Are you crazy?”

  “I’m trained to fight at night, and that’s one advantage I intend to use.” He opened the driver’s side door and slipped out. Taking a position near the hinges, pistol up, he aimed across the hood.

  “Don’t go. It’s too dangerous,” she said. “There could be more than one gunman out there.”

  “He missed both of us, so he’s not an expert. I am.” Jonas urged her out. “Run for the trees. I’ll cover you. Now go!” He fired two shots as she ran off the road and into the brush.

  Alone in her hiding place beneath a willow moments later, Emily heard him move off, melding into the darkness. She shook her sweater, loosening small chunks of glass that had been cutting into her skin. A few pieces had even managed to work their way through her collar opening.

  Leaning forward, she pulled her shirt away from her body and shook them loose, but as she did, other small fragments bit into her. There were too many to simply brush off. What she needed now was a shower and a lot of disinfectant—assuming she made it home.

  “I couldn’t catch him,” a voice behind her said.

  Emily nearly jumped out of her skin.

  “I’m sorry. I thought you heard me coming back. I wasn’t being quiet,” Jonas added, touching her on the shoulder lightly.

  “I can hear the leaves rustling, but you don’t make any sound at all when you walk.”

  “Sorry about that,” he said. “It’s a skill I learned, one useful in staying alive, and somewhere along the way it became a part of me.” In the moonlight he could see the small cuts on her forearm and neck. “You’re going to have to get out of those clothes and clean those cuts.”

  “If it’s safe now, take me home. I’ll dust myself off with a dry cloth, then take a shower.” And maybe, just maybe, she’d finally escape the scent of death that still clung to her.

  JONAS BRUSHED AWAY THE glass inside the cab so she could safely sit down again. Then, after making a quick call, they got under way.

  Fixing his eyes on the road, he tried to bite back the anger blasting through him. This was his fault. He’d been distracted and hadn’t seen or heard the threat soon enough. They’d been lucky that the sniper’s own incompetence had given him away.

  Snipers at night were particularly dangerous. This one had hidden well, but th
e truck’s headlights had bounced off the rifle’s optics, creating a flash of light. Though Jonas only had a second to accelerate, it had been enough to throw off the kill shot. The sniper had been forced to settle for driving a round through the windshield.

  The shooter had targeted Emily, and Jonas had already called his contact to report the details. Preston Jim, another Brotherhood warrior, would be watching the farmhouse where Jen Caldwell was staying, just in case she, too, was about to become a target.

  This close call just went to prove that Jonas’s feelings were getting in the way of his judgment. Whenever he was around Emily, too many other thoughts crowded his mind. The softness of her curves, the warmth of her voice, the way her hips swayed when she walked, filled him with a need that never went away. Denying it only left him feeling like half a man—one torn between duty and the need to lose himself in her, completing her, completing himself.

  Even now, the thought made him harden. Disgusted with himself, he managed only two words. “I’m sorry.”

  She looked at him in surprise. “For what?”

  “For failing to protect you.”

  “You sped up, then hit the brakes, throwing off the sniper. After that, you placed your body between me and danger. There was nothing else you could have done,” she answered. “I still haven’t figured out how you knew the gunman was there.”

  “The gleam of the scope in the headlights. But by then it was almost too late. I should have been looking harder, expecting an ambush. I screwed up, and you could have been killed.”

  “I’m alive because of you. If you hadn’t forced me down…” She shook her head. “I’m the one who’s to blame here, not you.”

  “You, how?” he asked, surprised.

  “At night everything fades and all I see are dark shapes. I should have made that very clear to you long before now, so you wouldn’t count on me to help you keep a lookout. But I let you down,” she said. “And every day my sight gets a little worse.”

  “Are you going blind?”

  “Unless a cure is found, or gene therapy works, probably. I didn’t tell you before because I didn’t want you to feel sorry for me. It was pride, but you deserved better.”

  Jonas reached for her hand and entwined his fingers with hers.

  She held on to him tightly. With Jonas, she felt vibrantly feminine, and desired. That knowledge was like a bright liquid fire coursing through her, pushing back the fears that shadowed her.

  “You could never let me down,” he said, fighting to quell feelings that were too strong, too raw, to release. “After months of living on the edge, I didn’t think I was capable of falling in love. But I was wrong.”

  His words were the song her heart had longed for. Jonas wasn’t offering her pity—he was giving her the greatest gift of all.

  She turned in her seat to face him, but as she did, more glass particles tore into her skin. She cried out and looked down at herself. “I’m bleeding again,” she noted in a shaky voice.

  He focused on his driving, making sure to miss every bump he could. “Once we arrive, strip down.”

  Even as he said it, his body hardened. Cursing himself, he glanced over at her, and felt a surge of protectiveness that transcended his own needs.

  “Deployed overseas, I learned that there’s a trick to dealing with pain,” he said, his voice taut. “Fill your mind with something that gives you intense pleasure—images that require you to use all your senses.”

  As Emily looked at him, he saw her mouth part and her gaze soften. It was a look any man worth his salt could recognize. Raw heat blasted through him. “Hold on to those thoughts, Em. If you do, there won’t be any room for pain.”

  Chapter Sixteen

  Jonas paced restlessly in the small trailer. He’d learned to remain immobile for hours during a mission, but sitting still was beyond him now. He’d walked Emily to the bathroom and, at her request, left her alone, giving her the privacy she’d asked for. He could have tried to convince her to let him stay, but distractions had taken enough of a toll—on him and on her.

  He went to the window and checked outside, but all was quiet now. The only sound he could hear was the shower in the tiny bathroom. Though a door separated them, he was attuned to her movements. He heard her turn off the water and reach for a towel.

  A heartbeat later he heard her cry out, and was instantly at the door. “What’s wrong?”

  “There’s a sliver of glass stuck in my side. I can’t see it or reach it, but it’s there.”

  “Let me help,” he said, and pulled the door open before she could protest.

  She was standing with a towel draped in front of her, her expression a mixture of vulnerability and apprehension. Even without makeup, her beauty nearly tore his breath away.

  “I can’t wrap the towel all the way around. The glass…” she said, still trying to find a way to cover up.

  “What are you worried about?” he asked in a tortured whisper. “I’ve seen you…and felt you…before. Or have you forgotten?”

  She shivered, and seeing her respond to him, though he hadn’t even touched her, drove him to the edge. Passion and desire clawed at his gut, but he forced himself to clamp a firm lid on that. This was about helping Emily—it wasn’t about him.

  “Turn around and let me see if I can help.”

  As she did so, exposing herself to his gaze, his body became rock hard. He sucked in a ragged breath and collected every last shred of self-control he possessed. Touching her gently, he ran his hand over the cut and pulled out the small sliver of glass, then helped her put antiseptic on her scratches, which weren’t as bad as she’d thought. “You’re okay now,” he said when they were close.

  She turned to face him. “Thank you, Jonas.” Standing on tiptoe, she brushed his lips with a tender kiss.

  He stood still, barely allowing himself to kiss her back.

  “Are you angry about something?” she asked, wrapping the towel in place.

  “Not even close,” he said, his voice taut. “What I’m feeling right now…” He shook his head. “I want you, Em, and I’m too wound up. Stay safe—keep your distance.”

  Emily drew a deep breath. She’d spent too much time being cautious and planning everything. It was time to let go. The passion, the exquisite tenderness and pleasures of love—that was Life with a capital L. She took a step closer to him.

  “I’m not afraid of you. Go ahead. Show me what’s in your heart, Jonas,” she challenged softly.

  Acting on instinct alone, he pulled the towel away and, hauling her against him, kissed her hard.

  With a whimper, she tugged at his shirt, pushing it away from his shoulders. “I need to feel you, to taste you.”

  Her words blasted through him. She was struggling with his belt, and, bringing his hands over hers, he helped.

  Clothing cast away in a heap, he pulled her back into his arms.

  “No more secrets,” Emily said, her hands torturing him with tender caresses that drove him to that ragged edge.

  Reaching into himself for the last bit of sanity, Jonas drew back and gazed into her eyes. “Some secrets are not mine to tell.”

  She brought his lips down to hers, kissed him, then whispered, “I’ve known who and what you are for some time. Dinétsoh told my dad about the Brotherhood and those who took the oath. I overheard—but I never told a soul—until now.” She rubbed her body against his, heat to heat.

  “Then the night belongs to us.”

  Though he’d spoken only of this night, she accepted his terms, and gave herself to him. “Make it last,” Emily whispered as he lifted her off her feet and carried her to the bed.

  “No lights,” he said, turning off the lamp, then setting her on the mattress. “Tonight we’ll share the dark, and find each other in ways no one else ever could. Close your eyes, sawe, and just feel,” he murmured in her ear.

  The night became a journey of textures and sensations, each more intense than the last. He gently stroked her sk
in, exploring her body, and the familiar and exciting roughness of his work-hardened hands sent shivers of pleasure coursing through her.

  Caressing her in ways meant to drive her wild, and whispering erotic words into her ear, he took her to the brink and beyond, again and again. When he was satisfied that she could give him no more, he held her against him, waiting for her to gather her strength.

  At long last, she shifted and, letting instinct guide her, positioned herself over him. He’d driven her wild, and now she would do the same for him. She wanted to shatter his control, to drive him to that dark edge where there was no room for restraint. Before the night was through she wanted him wild in her arms. Any woman who was a woman had that power over her man. Tonight would be a journey of discovery—for him, for her.

  “I want you to remember tonight—and me—forever,” she murmured, leaning down to nip at his earlobe. Straddling him so he could feel her heat, she rubbed herself sensuously against him as she moved along his length, trailing moist kisses.

  He was all heat and power, rolled into one masculine package. When she took him into her mouth, he snapped. With a wild growl, he drew her up roughly, and kissed her in a way that branded her as his.

  Her small whimpers added fuel to the fire in his veins. He’d never get enough. He forced her back onto the mattress, gripped her hands and thrust inside her, burying himself in her. Blood thundered through him as he rode her. Hearing her cries drove him crazy. He angled her hips so he could penetrate even deeper.

  Each thrust brought him closer, but he held on until she bucked beneath him and he felt her come apart. Blind with passion, he followed her into that oblivion, filling her with himself.

  Sanity returned slowly as the night stretched out before them. “Am I too heavy?” he asked at last, his voice nothing more than a low rumble.