Heat of the Night

Chapter 11

It took a moment for Connor to realize what woke him. He was fully alert and sliding away from Stacey's warm body when it registered-footsteps approaching the front door. The window behind the scrolled wrought iron headboard overlooked the far end of the porch, and he pushed aside the sheer black curtain and peeked between the shutters.

Aidan and Lyssa were ascending the short stairs.

Cursing under his breath, he turned around and reached for his pants.

"Who is it?" Stacey asked in a sleep-husky rasp.

"Mom and Dad," he muttered.

"Huh? Oh… Ugh." She sat up, looking tousled and well fucked-kiss-swollen lips, pink cheeks, rosy skin. "Do you think telling them to mind their own business will work?"

"It damn well better." He zipped up and held out a hand to her. Tugging her from the bed, he ran a quick admiring glance down the length of her body, cupped a swaying breast, and kissed her passionately. "You get dressed. I'll get the door."

He turned away and she swatted him on the ass. "Yes, sir."

Tossing a mock glare over his shoulder, Connor left the bedroom, traversed the hall, and unlocked the front door.

Aidan took one look at his bare chest and feet, and scowled. "Asshole."

"Shithead," Connor retorted.

"I take no responsibility for him," Aidan said to Lyssa. "He fucks up, it's not my fault."

She patted his arm. "Calm down, honey."

Connor smiled at Lyssa. "Hi."

Her returning smile was just as sweet as she was. "Hi. I smell apple pie."

Laughing, Connor stepped back, pulling the door open wide. It was late afternoon, the hour when the sky was more orange than blue and the hottest part of the day was behind them. "I'm sure Stacey will be slicing it up soon. She's been talking about that pie all day."

"Have you moved in now?" Aidan snapped.

"Dude." Connor shook his head. "You need to get laid or take vitamins or something."

"He doesn't need to get laid," Lyssa assured, grinning.

"Yes, I do," Aidan argued, "and if you blow it for me, Bruce, I'm kicking your ass."

"Wow." Both of Connor's brows rose. "You must really have it going on, Lyssa. He's awfully anxious about pissing you off."

She offered a saucy shrug. "What can I say?"

"Hey, Doc." Stacey entered the living room from the hallway. "Want some apple pie?"

"Told ya," Connor said.

"Can we talk, Bruce?" Aidan said tightly, gesturing toward the front door.

"I don't know. Can we?" Connor set his hands on his hips. "You don't look capable of talking. You look like you want to bitch."

Aidan stood there for a moment, still and tense. Then a faint hint of a smile touched the corner of his mouth. "Please."

"Aw, alright."

"Want me to cut you a slice?" Stacey called after him.

"Hell, yeah." He winked at her. "I want to try some of that pie-that's-better-than-sex."

"I didn't say that!" she protested, blushing.

"You must really not have it going on," Aidan ribbed. "Stace's pie is good, but it's not that good."

"Watch it."

Aidan's laughter followed Connor out the screen door and onto the porch. Moving to stand at the railing, Connor said, "Before you get started, my sex life is none of your damn business."

"We'll debate that later. Right now I gotta tell you about what happened when I woke up."

There was excitement in Aidan's voice, which caught and held Connor's attention. "Yeah?"

"I found a letter I wrote to myself."

Connor blinked. "O-kay…"

"While I was sleeping."

"Wager." Admiration filled Connor at the thought. The lieutenant was wily and resourceful, two traits that any officer would appreciate finding in the soldiers under his command.

"Yes. I always liked him. Smart kid."

Wager was a few centuries beyond being a "kid," but Connor got the idea.

Aidan ran a hand through his hair. In the Twilight, he'd always kept it short. The inky locks were longer now than Connor could ever remember seeing them. The look softened the captain's features and blended with the glow of happiness visible whenever he looked at Lyssa. He was a changed man, a previously hopeless man who now had hope.

"What did it say?" Connor asked.

"He found traces of a bug inside the files you downloaded from the temple." Aidan walked over to the swinging bench and sat.

Turning, Connor rested his hip against the railing. "A bug?"

"Yes, a virus or Trojan program that's been monitoring everything the Elders have been doing."

"Eavesdropping? "

Aidan looked at him grimly. "Yeah."

"So everything we know, someone else also knows?"

"Looks that way."

Gripping the wooden slats behind him, Connor looked across the side-lawn to the neighbor's yard. He exhaled harshly. "Any idea how long the bug has been there?"

"The letter didn't say. Wager is tracing it, but cautions us against holding our breaths. He says it'll take some time and there is no guarantee of success."

"Well, someone else out there doesn't trust the Elders either. Maybe that's a good thing for us."

"Or maybe not."

"True."

"The letter also mentioned that your dreams with Sheron could be true. Wager found a file on a program called 'dream incursion.' Something about enhancing dreams with information that would become memorable. He's working on that lead, too."

"Poor guy," Connor muttered. "How in hell did he end up with the Elite? His brain has got to be bored with all the chest thumping."

Aidan laughed. "He's too hotheaded for a desk assignment. I asked him once why he joined the Elite. He said it was his first love and the rest was just a hobby."

"Some hobby."

The low rumble of a car's engine drew both of their gazes to the road. Just beyond the chain link fence that marked Stacey's property, a black sedan with dark tinted windows cruised slowly along then turned into the driveway.

The screen door opened and the girls exited the house backwards, balancing small desert plates atop each hand. Both men spared only fleeting glances in their direction.

"Who is that?" Stacey asked, noting how both Connor and Aidan seemed unduly interested in the approaching vehicle.

Aidan stood and glanced at her, frowning. "You don't recognize the car?"

She shook her head.

"Get in the house," Connor ordered, moving to stand between her and the visitor.

For a moment, Stacey contemplated the effectiveness of pointing out that she wasn't one to be ordered around. In the end, she stepped around Connor and set the two slices of pie she was carrying on top of the two-by-four railing.

"It's my house," she pointed out. "Whoever it is wants to see me. Or they're lost. Most likely lost, because-"

"I've got this, Cross," Connor interjected darkly. "You take care of Lyssa."

Stacey fell silent as Aidan leaped to his feet and pushed Lyssa roughly into the house.

Connor caught her arm and tugged her back behind him as the car rolled to a stop and the rear driver's side door opened. Stacey swatted at him, loving that he was overprotective but also finding it annoying. Too much of anything was too much and…

Her mouth fell open as a woman beautiful enough to put Angelina Jolie out of a job unfolded from the backseat. The gal had black hair and green eyes like Stacey, but unlike Stacey, she was tall and willowy with the defined muscles of a body builder. She was also drop-dead gorgeous-blessed with perfectly symmetrical facial features and softly tanned skin. Dressed in gray sleeveless tunic and loose-legged pants, her garments reminded Stacey of the ones Connor had been wearing when he arrived on Lyssa's doorstep.

"I have no idea who that is," Stacey said.

"Captain Bruce," the woman called out in greeting, smiling in a way that made Stacey's skin crawl. She had the same accent that Connor and Aidan had, which only increased Stacey's unease.

"You know her?" Stacey asked, heart sinking. No way could she compete with a woman who looked like that.

"Rachel," Connor rejoined.

The grim tone of Connor's voice didn't help settle Stacey, like she would have thought. Yeah, she was glad he wasn't happy to see Rachel, but on the other hand, drama scenes were not her cuppa tea.

"Look how sweetly you protect your human lover," Rachel drawled, resting her arm elegantly along the top of the open car door. "I always said the need for sex was a weakness unique to male members of the Elite."

"What the fuck is she talking about?" Stacey muttered. "Who is that?" Her eyes widened. "Oh my god! You're not married are you?"

"What?" Connor barked, glaring at her. "To her? Are you nuts?"

"To anyone?"

"No!"

Rachel cleared her throat. "Excuse me. Can you argue after I conclude my business? I have a long drive ahead of me and I would like to 'hit the road' as they say."

Aidan came back. He handed something to Connor, then looked at Stacey. "You need to come inside, Stace."

Stacey glanced down at the object in Connor's hand and comprehension dawned.

"Oh, I get it!" She grinned sheepishly. "This is about the sword!"

"Sweetheart," Connor bit out between clenched teeth. "Go inside the damn house. Now."

"Bossy, aren't they?" Rachel said, laughing. "You can come with me, sweetheart. I have some… friends… who would love to meet you."

"You'll have to kill me, Rachel," Connor challenged, "to get to her."

Rachel tossed her hair over her shoulder and laughed. "I know! Isn't that delicious? As impatient as I was for the Key to be found, getting you and Cross in the bargain makes it all worth it."

Totally confused, Stacey's gaze drifted to the man in the driver's seat. He looked like a dude from Men in Black. Black suit, blacker sunglasses. Something about him was even weirder than Rachel's Cruella de Ville-vibe, even though he didn't move and bore no expression on his face.

"But claiming the Key now would be a bit like putting the cart before the horse," Rachel said with a careless wave of her hand. "So you can enjoy your unfortunate humans a little bit longer."

"What does she keep saying 'human' like that?" Stacey whispered fiercely, disliking the other woman immensely. Rachel was so damned smug and nasty. And the way she set Connor and Aidan on edge didn't recommend her too highly either.

"What do you want?" Connor asked, moving to stand by the steps as if he dared anyone to pass him and gain entry to the house. Considering he had a huge unsheathed sword in his hand, the intimidation was highly successful. At least for Stacey.

"You have something that belongs to me, Bruce. I want it back."

He descended the first step. "Fuck you."

Rachel's grin widened. "I would not come empty-handed, surely you know that?"

"You show us yours first," Connor rumbled before turning his head and hissing to Aidan, "Get her in the house!"

Aidan caught her upper arm in a relentless grip and tugged her toward the door.

"Fine." Stacey went. "But I'm watching through the window."

"I want the trinity," Rachel said.

Connor shrugged. "No idea what that is. Looks like you're shit out of luck."

Stacey paused at the door. "Stop provoking her! She's a nut."

"Perhaps this will jog your memory," Rachel said. She looked into the backseat. "Get out."

The other rear door opened and a man stepped out.

"Oh my god," Stacey breathed, her hand falling away from the door handle as she recognized the man wearing a black turtleneck sweater and ski pants. "That's Tommy! What the fuck is he doing with them?"

The tension that gripped Connor's large frame was palpable. "Cross… that's Stacey's ex."

Tommy stood next to the car in an obvious daze, his eyes sightless and uncomprehending.

The next moment the driver moved, reaching over to the front passenger seat and yanking a bound and gagged body into view.

Stacey screamed, doubling over at the sight of Justin's terrified eyes and tear-stained face.

Rachel's smile was chilling. "So, now I have shown you mine. And he will stay mine until you return the trinity to me."

Goaded by instinct, Stacey ran for the stairs and her son. Connor's arm thrust out lightning quick, slamming her back. She yelled her fury and frustration, flailing as she went down, losing her breath as Aidan caught her and held her writhing body with steely arms. She arched and twisted, kicking her legs madly, but he was too big and too strong.

Rachel reached into her pocket and withdrew a cell phone. She tossed it at Connor, who caught it and held it to his chest. "I will call you with instructions."

"If something happens to the boy," Connor warned, his voice low and deadly earnest. "I'll torture you before I kill you."

"Ooh!" She gave a vixen-ish little shake of her shoulders. "Sounds delicious." Her lovely face hardened. "I want that trinity, Captain. See that I get it or the kid will pay."

"Nooooo!" The sound that left Stacey's body was inhuman. It was an animal's cry, one filled with pain and frustration and a mother's fear for her child. She struggled within Aidan's unyielding grasp, jerking and scratching to be freed. "Justin!"

She watched in wide-eyed horror as her son's panicked writhing mirrored her own. Justin's bound hands lifted and struck out, knocking the sunglasses from his captor's face, revealing a visage that stopped her heart. The man hit back, knocking Justin unconscious. Then he turned his black gaze to Stacey, grinning with a yawing cavern of jagged teeth, taking pleasure in her torment and revulsion.

Her cries echoed around them, then Aidan's hand was over her mouth, muffling her, his deep voice murmuring to her.

Why weren't they doing anything? Why were they letting that bitch climb back into the car and shut the door? Why was Tommy just standing there, barely blinking as the car reversed out of the driveway with their child inside it? Why was Aidan restraining her, gagging her, crooning to her as if all the promises of safety and retribution he was making would calm her?

The thing in the driver's seat was driving away with her baby and she could only watch, imprisoned by the arms of someone she'd thought was a friend.

Aidan held her until the car was out of sight, then he let her go. Her shaky legs caused her to stumble and fall to her knees, then she scrambled to her feet, pushing past Connor when he attempted to restrain her. She ran to Tommy and beat at him, yelled at him, shook him.

"You goddamned junkie!" she screamed, slapping his face with every bit of strength she possessed. "You worthless piece of shit!"

Then she was running, running for the life of her son, clearing her property and chasing the black sedan down the road. It was quickly beyond sight, but she didn't stop. She couldn't stop. She ran until she couldn't run anymore, sinking to the ground and crying. Wailing. Hiccupping.

"Stacey." Connor knelt beside her, his eyes red and watery and filled with such compassion.

"No!" she shouted. "You do not g-get to cry. You let them t-take him…" She slapped at his bare chest, then pounded her fists against it. "How c-could you l-let them take him? How could y-you?"

"I'm sorry," he whispered, making no effort to defend himself from her attack. "I'm so sorry, Stace. There was nothing I could have done. If there had been any way to take him back alive, I would have. You have to believe me."

"You didn't even try!" she sobbed. "You didn't even try."

Stacey crumpled into his lap, her blurry gaze fixed on the unpaved road. His feet were bare and bleeding from coming after her. Her heart clenched at the sight, which only pissed her off further.

Connor picked her up and carried her back. She had no strength left to resist, but she found no comfort in his embrace.

Her precious child was gone.