Betrayed by Trust (20 page)

“She is at the center of this.” Gideon interrupted. “She should be here.”

Dan turned, keeping his body between me and the stranger. His tone was almost a snarl. “She’s my wife.”

“And that is a sacred bond. But she is not your possession, no more than the special child she carries is.”

I slipped around Dan. “What do you know about my child?”

Gideon’s expression softened with warmth as he stepped closer. Dan pulled me back as Ringo stepped between me and the other man and growled, “Keep your distance.”

Gideon seemed unperturbed by the threat, but didn’t try to come any closer. “I know you’ve given your body and your life for the sake of freeing Aldwyn from slavery. I know that the child in your womb is sought by those who would force him into their service. And I know that you will never escape them unless you allow me to advise you.”

I didn’t even try to hide my surprise. “You know about Aldwyn?”

“Yes. And I know that George Kincaid has succumbed to the desire to control Aldwyn’s power.”

“What if we take him out?” Ringo asked.

Kill Kincaid?
That would certainly be direct. But not at all what I expected from a man whom I’d prayed with.

Dan raised his brows, too.

“Self-defense, or the defense of those who can’t protect themselves, isn’t murder,” Ringo said. “This is war, and Kincaid is a threat. A rabid dog.” There wasn’t a shred of self-doubt in his voice.

Gideon shook his head. “Sometimes ending a life serves a higher purpose, but you shouldn’t take that stain upon you unnecessarily. Even if Kincaid falls, there are others waiting to take his place and pursue his agenda.” He strolled over to the wicker sofa and made himself comfortable on it, unbuttoning his jacket and spreading his arms across the back. He had the face of an angel, and was as lean and fit as Dan, but the sex appeal just wasn’t there, at least not for me.

I stood off to the side, behind the love seat, where I could see Gideon’s expression. “You sound like you know who can’t be trusted. That must mean you know which directors can be.”

Gideon nodded. “I do. And if you insist, I will tell you who they are. But the directors who would be willing to protect you are not strong enough to do so. If you ask them to, the Trust will fracture, and fail to balance the Golden Path. The Path will then act unopposed, causing great harm and sorrow.”

I thought about what might have happened at
TMI
, imagining a world where people who would do something like that acted freely, and shuddered. “And in the end, Evan and I will still be taken by those who want to control him, won’t we?” I looked at my husband, still standing alert and ready. “And Dan and Ringo will die trying to stop them.”

“Yes.”

“You can’t be sure it will happen like that,” Ringo said. “The future isn’t predetermined.”

“No, it is not.” Gideon said. “These are only probabilities.” A patient stillness surrounded him as he fell silent and waited for our response.

“So what do you suggest?” Dan demanded. “Kincaid’s men are already in San Corazon. They could be outside even now. We might be able to get away, but they’d probably find us again, since we don’t know how they found us here.”

“They would, indeed,” Gideon agreed. “The only way for you to evade capture is for you to die.”

I
nstantly, both Dan and Ringo raised their weapons again, aiming at Gideon’s chest. Ringo scanned the room for other threats, then returned his attention to the man still sprawled at ease on the couch.

“Explain yourself. Now.” Dan commanded in a voice only a fool would disobey. “In as few words as possible.”

“Kincaid’s faction will not stop until they have what they want, or until they believe it is beyond their reach. Death will put the child beyond their reach. Ergo, they must believe you and the child are dead.”

“
Believe
we’re dead? Not actually
be
dead?” Ringo asked.

“Of course not. The child must live.”

Dan stiffened, and Gideon raised his hands. “And the best way to insure that is for his mother and her protectors to live.”

Dan and Ringo exchanged looks, then lowered their guns.

“How do we make them believe that when they can find us wherever we go?” I asked, rubbing my back. It was aching like a sonovabitch. “I’ve been thinking about how they found us. They didn’t plant any bugs on us or our stuff. They must have used magic. That means they’ll know we’re not dead as soon as they look for us again.”

“They will.” Gideon pointed to my wrist. “Unless you give up your bracelet.”

“No.” The word popped out without thought. I’d worn the metal cuff with Mark’s name on it for nine years, rarely taking it off. It was my last connection to him.

“Why?” Dan asked.

“Your friend Kalisa can find you through it.”

“Kalisa?”
She’d know I’d never leave it behind.
“She wouldn’t betray me.”

“She would not knowingly hurt you, but she believes you need help.”

I covered the nickel band with my other hand.

“How do you know all this stuff?” Ringo demanded. “This is all intel that only Kincaid’s people would know. Or maybe you work for the Path?” His gun came up again.

“How does Marianne know the things she knows?”

Dan pinched the bridge of his nose. “No. You’re more than psychic. I’ve worked in the research department of the Trust for over five years. I’d have heard rumors of someone with that level of skill.”

“Could he be using some kind of magic?” I asked. But Dan didn’t seem to hear me.

He stared at Gideon, his eyes unfocused as if he was remembering something. A moment later his gaze sharpened again, and he asked softly, as if he didn’t quite believe it himself, “It was you, wasn’t it? At the temple?”

This man had been there when Dan’s life had been spared?

Gideon didn’t respond for a moment. Then he said, “I warned you at the crosswalk, as well.”

“You interceded for us with the Gaians. Why? Why save Ringo and me, and not the rest of our squad?”

The pain in my back suddenly flared, lancing around my belly with a ferocity that startled a cry out of me. I bent, bracing myself on the back of the love seat. It felt like the worst cramp I’d ever had, times twenty. I felt a pop, then warm moisture trickled down my legs.

Dan was beside me immediately, although I’d been completely unaware of him moving. “What’s wrong?” He put his arm around me.

With a shallow breath, I ground out, “My water broke.”

He went still. He’d been to the classes with me. He knew what that meant. A minute later the contraction eased.

“You’re sure this isn’t another Braxton Hicks?” he asked.

“I think the puddle on the floor rules that out.”

Gideon stood and calmly asked, “Towels?”

Ringo gestured absently, staring at me with alarm. “In the hall. Third door on the right.”

Gideon left the room, without a peep of objection from the guys.

Another contraction slammed into me, and warm fluid gushed out of me. “Time it,” I gasped as I tried to breathe through it.

Dan checked his watch.

“Rub my back,” I commanded, and Dan obeyed.

The contraction passed. This one had lasted longer, or maybe it just felt that way.

“Do you want to sit down?” Dan asked.

I caught my breath for a moment. Terror bounced around the inside of my head.
The baby’s coming, and I’m not ready.
What was it Dan had asked? “No.”

Gideon returned. Dan and I stepped aside while the other man silently bent to mop the tile floor. The light caught in his golden hair, making it glow. My back ached, and my jeans started to cool from evaporation. “I need to change my clothes,” I said, just as another contraction hit. My legs wobbled and Dan steadied me.

When the pain passed, he said, “Five minutes. Your labor’s gone from zero to sixty, babe. We need to get you to the hospital.”

“There isn’t a full-fledged hospital here,” Ringo said. “San Corazon’s too small.”

Dan glared, and Ringo put his hands up. “I thought we’d be out of here before she needed one. There’s a clinic, but if we go there, Kincaid’s men will follow us,” Ringo said. “We can’t control the environment, and anyone with a mask and a white coat could grab the baby.”

“Then go find a doctor!” Dan shouted.

I looked at Ringo in horror.
No hospital? No doctor?

Gideon stood, damp towels in his hands. “I can deliver the child.”

“Are you a doctor?” Dan asked sharply.

The other man looked at my husband. “You know what I am.”

“Well
I
don’t!” Ringo nearly yelled.

Gideon seemed completely unfazed by either Ringo’s volume or size. “I am a Guardian. A cousin, if you will, to the Gaians, who belong to the earth. I held the Gaians back from killing you along with the Khmer. And I’ve watched over more than a few births.”

Whatever a Guardian was, apparently Gideon could command Elementals. With that kind of power, if he wanted to steal my child there’d be no stopping him. And if he wanted to help me, I could have no better midwife.

Another pain doubled me over. When it passed I said, “This baby’s on his way. I’ll take whatever help I can get.”

Fifteen minutes later, I was clean and dry, and wrapped in a terry cloth robe that came with the condo we’d rented. To my relief, Gideon had declared that he didn’t need to do a visual or manual exam to determine how far my labor had progressed.

I lay on the bed while Dan stroked my hair. Gideon slipped a hand under the robe and lightly touched my lower belly. The tension in Dan’s body told me he was poised to act if necessary, but he didn’t interfere.

A moment later Gideon smiled and withdrew his hand. “All is as it should be,” he said. “Walk as much as you can, but rest when you need to. Let your body be your guide.”

I laughed. My pains were coming at irregular intervals. I didn’t see that I had much choice. “What about Kincaid’s men? Since I can walk, shouldn’t we move while we can?” I asked.

“I’d rather meet them here, where we have more control over the environment,” Dan said, then looked at Gideon. “Unless you have a better idea?”

“Your choice is sound. And Marianne will be more comfortable here.”

Time passed in a rhythm controlled by my body. I walked the hall, sipped water, and leaned against the furniture or Dan when a contraction hit. Then I walked some more, or stretched to relieve the pressure in my hips.

Ringo prowled the condo restlessly, continuously checking the perimeter.

Half an hour later, my contractions had shortened to four minutes. I was lying down, trying to rest when a wave of warning as sharp as a labor pain slammed into me. “Something’s wrong!”

“Not with your child,” Gideon soothed. “Nor with you.”

“No. It’s something else.” I met Dan’s concerned gaze with my own. “It’s one of my feelings.”

Dan nodded and squeezed my shoulder. “I’ll be right back, babe.” Then he held out his pistol, butt first, and asked Gideon, “Do you know how to use this?”

“I do.”

“Good. Take care of Marianne.” He pressed his gun into Gideon’s hands and left the room, shutting the door behind him.

The Guardian placed the gun on the night stand and sat down beside me to rub my back as another contraction stole my breath. The pain eased as soon as he touched me, though I could still feel the tightness in my belly. Out in the living room I heard a shotgun being racked. A moment later the sharp sound of glass breaking combined with gunfire. A man screamed, and my heart slammed into overdrive.

My contraction eased but my fear didn’t. Another man shouted in pain. Over the rapid fire noise of battle, I heard Ringo shout, “Gideon! Dan needs you!”

Dan’s hurt!
I started to get up, but Gideon stopped me with a hand on my shoulder.

“He’ll be all right,” Gideon said, then left the room.

I couldn’t bear not knowing what was happening, how badly Dan was hurt. I
knew
he wasn’t dead, but he could be bleeding to death out there. I stood up and grabbed the gun from the night stand, where Gideon had left it. I wasn’t sure what I thought I could do, but I didn’t get a chance to find out. The gunfire ceased. I held my breath. For a moment all was quiet.

Then I heard a heavy thump on the balcony, and the French doors burst inward.

Kincaid strode into the room, a smile of victory splitting face. He held an M-16 at rest across his chest. “Hello, Marianne. You’re safe now. I’m here to take you home.”

Safe? Home?
This jerk had threatened to take my baby from me, he’d probably arranged for Foxworth’s murder, and Dan’s hit-and-run accident, too. He’d forced me to leave my
home
, and my friends and family when I most needed them, and he was gloating.

I didn’t dare hesitate. I wasn’t sure when the next contraction would disable me. I hated guns, but Dan had trained me, and I was a good shot. I pulled the trigger. My bullet took Kincaid in the center of his chest. His triumphant expression changed abruptly to surprise as he crumpled to the floor.

The sharp report in the small room jolted another spurt of adrenaline into my blood. Hands shaking, I stepped closer to him, keeping my sights trained on Kincaid’s body. I didn’t see any blood and I wondered for a second if I’d really hit him. Suddenly he drew in a ragged gasp and fumbled for the gun lying at his side. Like Michael Myers he was going to keep on coming for me. I fired again and kept firing, until the slide locked back, the gun empty.

The next thing I knew, Dan was there, kicking Kincaid’s gun out of reach and gently taking the pistol from my clenched grip. “You okay?”

I nodded jerkily and gulped back a sob.

He gave me a squeeze. “Good girl. Woman,” he corrected himself.

“Hear me roar,” I said in a weak voice.

He laughed softly and hugged me again, then he checked Kincaid for a pulse.

“Is he dead?” There was plenty of blood now. One of my bullets had gone through his throat. But I’d thought I’d killed him with my first shot, too.

“Yes.” Dan touched the bloodless bullet hole in the center of Kincaid’s chest, then pulled the bottom of Kincaid’s shirt up a couple of inches. “Tactical vest. This shot probably just knocked the wind out of him. Good thing you followed up, and didn’t turn your back on him.”

“That’s what you taught me to do.” Suddenly I became aware of the blood on Dan’s shirt, and the memory of Ringo’s call for Gideon’s help surfaced. “Are you all right?”

He stood and came over to me. “I’m fine, babe.”

I searched his body for wounds. There was a bloody bullet hole in his shirt, but the skin underneath was as smooth as the day he was born. Relief flooded through me. My knees shook.

“I’m good as new,” he said. “No need to worry.”

No need?
My husband had just survived a firefight, and I had just killed a man. But I didn’t have time to argue about it, because the next contraction hit.

“Marianne, we’re ready to go.” It was Dan’s voice, and his hands were sliding Mark’s
MIA
bracelet from my wrist.

“No!” My contractions were three minutes apart. I wasn’t sure which I was objecting to, moving, or him taking my bracelet.

“Yes, babe. We’ve got to move. Now. We can’t stay here.”

Dan’s arms started to slide under me, then Ringo said, “Let me.
My
ribs aren’t bruised.”

“Mine aren’t either, anymore,” Dan said, “thanks to Gideon.”

“
I’ll
take her,” Gideon said. “I don’t want you undoing all my hard work. I didn’t have time to do a thorough mend. I just hurried the process along.” Then he said to Ringo, “Get the bags.”

Dan’s brows rose. I wasn’t sure if it was at the command in Gideon’s tone, or because Ringo didn’t argue.

“I can walk!” I protested, even though I knew the next contraction would stop me in my tracks.

Gideon picked me up anyway, as if I weighed no more than a down pillow. “This will be faster.” Then he followed Dan through the condo, his feet crunching on shards of glass and shattered lamps. Bullet holes pocked the walls, and blood drenched the carpet under four bodies.

I shuddered at the sight of the dead, horrified by the thought that one of them could have been Dan if Gideon hadn’t intervened.

“Don’t look,” Gideon murmured. “It’s not a sight that will enrich your soul.”

He had that right. I turned my face into his shoulder and tried to block the image from my thoughts, but there was no unseeing it.

A minute later we’d made it down the sloping path to where our cars were parked. Ringo followed, carrying the bug-out bags and the small duffle Marve had provided in one hand. His other held an M-16 at the ready. His shirt was drenched with blood, but he didn’t seem injured.

“Where are we going?”

Dan was beside me again, taking my hand. “Gideon knows a place where you’ll be safe, where the rest of Kincaid’s men won’t find you.”

The safe place Gideon took me was a tiny apartment behind a small cantina in the locals’ section of town. The owner,
Don
Aliberto, genuflected as the Guardian sidled through the door of the white-washed adobe building with me in his arms, and didn’t seem at all alarmed that we were followed by two heavily armed men. I wondered how he knew Gideon.

“Put her here,” a middle-aged woman directed. The sheets on the narrow bed Gideon settled me on were well-worn but clean, and smelled of sage.

“Marianne, this is
Doña
Elena,” Gideon said. “She’s a skilled
partera
. A midwife. I couldn’t be leaving you in better hands.”