Running Scared (Sentinel Wars #3)
Page 11He flashed her a brief, amused look. “Why not?”
“Because I don’t sleep with men I don’t trust.”
“You could learn to trust me if you let yourself.”
When hell froze over, maybe. “Not likely.”
His hand wrapped around hers, holding it against her thigh. A swarm of electric tingles slid into her, making her body buzz. Her head fell back against the headrest and she let the giddy feeling sweep over her.
“We’ll just have to work on that,” he said, but she could barely make sense of the words. “I’ve got a goal now, and I’m a very goal-oriented kind of man.”
She just bet he was. She doubted there was much he’d let get in the way of what he wanted, and right now, that was her. A loud, crazy part of her was cheering over the news, so she told it to shut the hell up.
Lexi needed a distraction. Something, anything, to keep her from imagining just what kind of lover he’d be. Goal oriented, indeed. It was enough to make her squirm in her seat.
“What about my car? Getting it running and back in my hands will go a long way toward helping me trust you.”
A slow smile warmed Zach’s face. He was too handsome when he smiled. Too tempting. “It’s already taken care of. I left your keys at the Gerai house, and as we speak, our men are likely repairing the engine. Once they’re done, they’ll drive it to Dabyr and you’ll have your wheels back.”
Unless they found the explosives hidden in her trunk.
They weren’t obvious, and someone would actually have to search through her meager belongings to find the locked box filled with C-4. And then they’d have to break the lock to get in and see what was inside.
The good news was, if they did that, she’d know the Sentinels weren’t as trusting and helpful as Zach led her to believe. She’d know for sure they weren’t on her side, and she’d have no trouble blowing them all to hell if she got the chance.
At least that was what she kept telling herself.
Zach was giving her a funny look. “What? Isn’t that what you wanted?”
“Yes.”
“So why do you suddenly look sick?”
“I’m not sick. I’m hungry. I want steak,” she blurted out, hoping to distract him.
“What?”
“I want steak.” She hadn’t had it in years, and thanks to him, she even had enough money to pay for a nice meal. Lexi staunchly refused to think of it as her last meal. She was going to get out of this mess alive and well with Helen and Miss Mabel in tow.
He laced his thick fingers through hers and said, “Then steak it is. I know just the place. It’s a little out of the way, but more than worth the drive.”
And once they got there, she was going to call Jake Morrow, her contact in the Defenders, and let him know she hadn’t abandoned her mission.
Joseph looked up from his desk to see Iain Terra filling his doorway. His black eyes sparkled under the bright office lighting, but his face was a blank, impassive mask. He waited in silence, even after Joseph had noticed him.
“Need something?” asked Joseph. His eyes burned, and he knew he wasn’t going to sleep again tonight. There were too many things to be done and too many dreams to haunt him when he closed his eyes.
Everyone was counting on him to be some great leader. Didn’t they all know he was just one single man? One no more capable of keeping his people alive than any other Theronai?
For what seemed like the millionth time, he cursed his position even as he accepted it. He would not fail. The lives of countless souls depended on him.
“I heard a rumor,” said Iain. His deep voice was quiet, but carried easily across the office.
“Seems there are lots of those floating around these days.”
“Not like this one.”
Great. More problems. “Spit it out, Iain. I’m busy.”
“Are there Synestryn with the faces of human children?”
No beating around the bush there. Too bad, too. Joseph wasn’t ready to publicly acknowledge the spin that news had put on the war. He still wasn’t entirely sure the Sentinels hadn’t already lost and just didn’t know it yet. Between that, the broken wall and slow repairs, the news that the European stronghold was crumbling from internal politics, and the constant, pounding pain in his head that made it hard to concentrate on the best of days, things were looking pretty bleak.
“Yeah. It’s true,” said Joseph, “but I’d really rather you not help spread the rumor any farther than it already has.”
“Where?” asked Iain.
“Where what?”
“Where did they find these things?”
“There was only one,” said Joseph.
“I’m going to make sure there are no more.”
“I don’t want you leaving. I need you here, at least until the wall is back up.”
“If I wait, it will be too late,” said Iain.
“Too late for what? Gilda and Angus already took care of the threat.”
“You know as well as I do that the Synestryn won’t stop with one. I’m going to find out how they are doing this and stop them.”
Joseph rubbed his temples, breathing deeply as the pounding worsened. “Alone?”
“And you won’t?”
“No. I won’t.”
“So, you’re just going to march into a nest and start killing things that look like our children?”
“They’re not our children. I’ll be able to remember that where someone like you wouldn’t.”
Maybe he was right. Joseph wasn’t sure he could bring himself to do what was necessary, but Iain seemed to be. No one else had volunteered for the job.
“Fine. Check it out. Talk to Angus if you need more details. He was there.” Joseph unrolled the map of known Synestryn nests and attacks.
Iain stepped up to the desk and watched where Joseph pointed. The dot identifying this incident was easy enough to spot. It was the only one on the map that was baby pink.
How fucking fitting that was.
Joseph looked away from the map. There were too many dots on it to count, and they were getting closer to Dabyr every night.
This had to stop. He had to do something—come up with some great plan—or nothing else he did was going to matter.
Five hundred thirty-seven people. That was how many were counting on him just here under his own roof. That didn’t include the humans outside these walls who were preyed upon every night, or the other Sentinels scattered across the planet. It didn’t include the who knew how many people there were in Athanasia right now who had no idea how close the Sentinels were to losing the war. The gateway into their world protected them, but only so long as he and his men stood guard and kept it safe. Once they were gone, there would be nothing left to stop the Synestryn from flooding that world, too—nothing left to stop them from slaughtering everyone there and heading on to the next planet.
No pressure.
Iain turned to leave without saying a word. Joseph felt compelled to say something, but he had no idea what. The man was going to do something Joseph knew he could never do himself. He was going to hunt down the greatest weapon the Synestryn had ever created—monsters with the faces of children. And then he was going to kill them.
“Be careful,” was all Joseph could think to say.
Iain stopped at the doorway and turned around. “This isn’t about careful and you know it.”
“No. It’s about having a strong stomach and remembering what’s at stake.”
“Don’t worry. I’m your man.”
Something about the way Iain said that bothered Joseph. It sounded empty. Hollow. Emotionless.
Maybe Iain was out of time, and this was his last heroic act. Joseph couldn’t bring himself to ask. He didn’t want to say good-bye to his longtime friend. “Are you saying you can do this and still sleep at the end of the day?”
“Who said I sleep?” said Iain; then he was gone. Joseph couldn’t even hear his heavy footsteps echoing in the silent hallway.
Lexi had her doubts when they pulled into the gravel parking lot of the run-down restaurant. It was at the end of a long dirt road, miles from the highway, and completely out of the way, but the parking lot was full for the dinner rush, which had to mean something in this mostly deserted part of the world.
He looked at her wrist to make sure the bracelet was still in place, chaining her to him. When he saw she hadn’t found a way to remove it, he said, “I’ll get us a table. Don’t be long.”
Lexi walked back to the doorway that led to the bathrooms and pay phone. There was plenty of change in her pocket from her tips last night, and she started plugging them into the phone. She dialed Jake Morrow’s number, which she knew by heart, praying he’d be around so she didn’t have to leave a message.
“Hello,” he said, sounding mistrusting in that single word of greeting.
“It’s Lexi. I don’t have long.”
“You okay?”
“Yeah. Fine. I just wanted to let you know to leave my car be. Zach is going to have it repaired and brought to me once I reach the compound.”
“We’ve been watching it, and someone towed it to the mechanic’s place earlier today. I talked to the owner and he said it had all been paid for up front—whatever needed to be done. He’s supposed to call when it’s fixed.”
“Zach must have already got his men on it.” Lexi leaned over, and peered out of the doorway, checking to make sure Zach wasn’t headed this way. She saw no sign of him.
“Are you sure you’re okay with this?” asked Jake.
He sounded worried, and she wanted to hug him for his concern. Of all the Defenders, he was the only one who seemed to be worried about what would happen to her. The others all saw her as some sort of tool to be used and disposed of as necessary.
“Absolutely. I’ll try to call again when I can, but this was the first phone I’ve had access to that didn’t belong to Zach. I didn’t want him to be able to trace your number.”
“If you get into trouble, don’t worry about that, okay? Just call.”
“I’ve got to go before he comes looking for me. Sit tight and I’ll be in touch.”
“Be careful, Lexi. Stay safe.”
“Thanks, Jake. You, too.” Lexi hung up and went to find their table.
As she neared, Zach smiled at her, like he was happy to see her. Like she was a friend.
Lexi’s stomach twisted in shame. He had no idea what she was planning. Of course, that was the point, but somehow telling herself that didn’t make her feel any less like a lying bitch.
They try to trick you. They use mind powers to suck you in. Then they suck you dry and leave your corpse to rot.
Mom’s words of warning. There were hundreds more like them, too. Lexi had to remember that and steel herself against any guilt she might feel. This was a job. She was doing the right thing—saving countless human lives. Whether or not she enjoyed the job was irrelevant. Someone had to do it, and she was the best candidate.