Heat of the Night

"Right."

"Excellent!" Satisfaction dripped from the coarse voice. "Puts me in a good mood. Perhaps you could use some assistance? Some manpower?

Equipment?"

Oh yeah… he was in deep shit if McDougal anticipated his "credit" being worth all that. But what the hell. If he was going to strike a bargain with the devil, he damn well expected to get his soul's worth out of it.

"All of the above," he said, getting back to work.

"Can I get a chopper, too?"

Aidan stared down at the somewhat tiny filigreed triangle with its intricate design and wondered what value it held. It was thin, about two inches in diameter with no back to it. He could see right through it, so there was no compartment to hide anything inside. In fact, if he found this without having any preconceived notions of what it was, he'd guess it was a necklace charm or some other bit of jewelry.

"Hey." Lyssa pulled out the chair beside him and sat, setting a cup of steaming coffee down in front of her. "Is that it?"

He shrugged and twisted the book around so that she could see the rendering that had been made of it in the pages. "It's definitely one of the items I was hoping to find, but there are pieces that work in conjunction with it and we don't have them."

"At least it's a triangle," she offered. "That's a good sign."

"Yes, it's hopeful. There's a mention of the Mojave Desert. The coordinates here—" he pointed to the page "—line up to that area and the mentions of caverns seem to confirm it."

She reached out and set her hand over his. "I'm worried. If something happens to Justin, I don't think Stacey can take it. He's all she has."

"I know." He straightened in the chair. "The Elders are very good at finding weaknesses and exploiting them. I anticipated something like this.

I just wasn't prepared for them to strike against Stacey."

"How could any of us know?"

"Connor suggested that she might be vulnerable because of how close she is to you. I thought he was bullshitting me, using it as a way to excuse his interest in her. Obviously, I was wrong."

"I think he really likes her."

"Yeah." Aidan heaved out his breath. "I think so, too."

"So where do we go from here?" She released him and sat back.

"I'm going to have to search for more things like this—" he held up the filigreed triangle, "—

using a book written when the landscape was totally different than the way it is now. I'll be gone more often than not. If Connor and Stacey can work things out after whatever happens tonight, I'll feel better all around. I can't protect everyone alone, Lyssa. The shit just keeps on coming."

"I'm not sure that his help will be enough, as much as I value it."

"True." Aidan's mouth thinned grimly. "We need reinforcements. As soon as we can catch our breath, Connor is going to have to sit down and figure out who is best to bring over from the Twilight. I haven't been with the men since they've become rebels. I have no idea who is up for the task and who isn't."

Lyssa leaned over and pressed a kiss to his cheek.

"I can't believe all the sacrifices the Guardians are making for us."

"It was our fuck-up, Hot Stuff." He cupped the back of her neck and nuzzled his nose against hers. "It's our responsibility to clean it up."

The sound of a car pulling into the drive caught both their attentions. Then another car. And another. Pushing to their feet, they ran to the front door. Stacey stood on the porch, watching the invasion with a blank stare.

A fleet of cars flooded Stacey's property.

Hummers, Magnums, Jeeps, and vans, their headlights angled in every direction as they covered the lawn in a broad pattern.

"Holy shit," Lyssa said.

"I'm insane," Stacey muttered, her hands on her sweats-clad hips. "There is no other explanation for this madness."

Connor hopped out of the nearest car, a black Magnum. He caught Aidan's eye and shrugged. "I brought reinforcements."

"I'll say."

The yard was reclaimed by the darkness as headlights were extinguished one by one. Men and women began to climb from their vehicles.

Cargo doors and trunks were opened and masses of equipment brought out.

Sprinting up the steps, Connor gestured everyone into the house. "Your home is going to be headquarters, Stace," he explained, holding the door open for her and Lyssa to enter. "There's a transponder in Rachel's cell phone that is sending its location to a receiver on her end. By setting up shop here, it'll appear as if we're staying put."

"Do whatever you want to the damn house," she said, green eyes hard and determined. "As long as I get Justin back, I don't give a shit about anything else."

The screen door was pulled open and a flood of urban camouflaged individuals poured in.

"First," Connor said to the group at large, pointing to Tommy. "Tranq him so he stays knocked out."

He looked at Stacey. "We'll take him back to the hotel. Can you write a note saying that Justin called you and complained of homesickness?

Make up something about not wanting to get in a fight about it, so you came and left without waking him."

Stacey arched a brow.

"It's as close to plausible as we're going to get on such-short notice," Connor argued. "If you've got a better idea, let's hear it."

"Fuck it."

"Right." Connor glanced at Aidan. "Well?"

"It's triangular," Aidan replied, "but it's a small part of a larger whole and until I figure out what the other pieces are, I can't figure out what the purpose is."

Connor caught the bag thrown at him by one of McDougal's men. "I've got to change into the latest fashion on display here." He gestured at the black, white, and gray-clad people around them.

"McDougal didn't have much of a selection in the sportswear department."

"How the hell did you get away with all of this?"

Aidan asked.

"A favor of some sort or another."

"I've got your back," Aidan said.

"Thanks. I've got to change before Rachel calls.

Hopefully, we can get a beat on her location."

Connor traversed the hall to the guest bathroom, which was decorated in soft sea foam green.

Stacey liked color because she had a colorful personality. As he stepped into the shower, he thought of this, thought about how he considered such things about her.

There was a Guardian in the Twilight named Morgan who had been something of a "booty call"

to him for centuries. If he wanted a quick fuck with no expectations and even less conversation, she was his girl. Still, despite how often he'd slept with her, Connor couldn't recall what the interior of her home was like. He knew she liked flowers and he always brought her some, but he didn't know what her favorite flower was or what her favorite color was.

He wanted to know everything about Stacey.

Why her? Why now?

"Aw, fuck it!" he muttered, scrubbed out the soap in his hair. His brain hurt from trying to comprehend his feelings.

He cared. Period. Why the hell did he need to know why? He just did.

When Connor exited the steamy bathroom a few minutes later, he found the living room, breakfast nook, and kitchen completely commandeered.

The industrious hum of conversations died suddenly. He frowned, then the soft trill of an uninspired cell phone ring explained the ensuing silence. He jogged to the threshold between the living room and kitchen. Aidan tossed him the phone when he came into view.

Connor caught and flipped it open in one easy movement. "Yes?"

A cord connected the phone to the laptop on the table, which was monitored by a young lady with severely

restrained

brown

hair

and

an

emotionless expression. She gave the thumbs up signal that the trace was in progress.

" Captain Bruce," Rachel purred, " do you have the trinity?"

"Gold scrollwork triangle?" he queried. "I've got it."

"Excellent, after it is safely in my possession, I will send someone—"

"No way." His grip on the handset tightened.

"Even trade. I see the boy alive, you see the trinity."

"You wound me, Captain. After all we have been through together, you still do not trust me?"

"Nope. Not a bit."

"Very well, then. Meet me in the parking lot of the Dell Mar Mall in Monterey."

"Got it." He glanced at the gallon the laptop. She shook her head.

Damn it, he had to keep her on the line a little longer…

"Rachel? A word of advice? Not a scratch on the boy." His voice lowered ominously. "You won't like what happens otherwise."

Connor's teeth grit as Rachel laughed, but he waited for her to disconnect the line before hanging up.

"According to last tower position, that call didn't come from the north," the brunette said. "It came from the Barstow area."

Aidan glanced at Connor. "I think she's headed to Mojave."

"Can we go now?" Stacey asked, stepping into view from the kitchen.

She was wearing a black ribbed tank top, urban camouflage pants, and jungle boots. More important than that, however, was her expression. Burning eyes and pursed lips told Connor that dissuading her from tagging along was going to be a bitch. "Why don't you help Aidan figure things out?" he suggested.

"Nice try," she retorted. "But I'm not staying here."

He looked back at Aidan. "Are you sending someone up to Monterey?"

They knew each other so well, they could communicate without words. The chances of Rachel separating from her bargaining chip were so slim, they didn't even signify. Justin was with her. ns class="adsbygoogle" style="display:block" data-ad-client="ca-pub-7451196230453695" data-ad-slot="9930101810" data-ad-format="auto" data-full-width-responsive="true">