Dangerous Lovers (94 page)

The idea that maybe her feelings ran deeper than just lust scared her. Pete
saw
her
–
just her. Not some masked weapon or scared little girl in a torn apart house with a dead mother by her side. He saw Dinah for who she was now, and from the looks of it, actually liked her.

“You’re thinking awfully hard over there,” Roman said. “Care to share?”

“Do I ever?” she replied, keeping her eyes closed.

“No,” he admitted. “But it’s never too late to try.”

“I’m just tired,” she lied. “My head is killing me and I want my bed.” And I miss Pete. Crap. She really did miss him and it had only been two days. How pathetic. Or maybe it was normal. The fact that she didn’t know was really annoying. If only Bridgette was still around. Her eyes popped open, looking at the grey skies of early dawn. Thinking about her always hurt her chest, like the wind had been knocked out of her. If she still had her sister she’d have someone else to talk to. Another girl who could help her with these kinds of things. Bridgette was always good at giving her advice. Not that they had ever really talked about boys, but Dinah was sure her older sister would have been good at it.

They passed through the gates of the city, the soldiers waving them through. Dinah was suddenly surrounded by buildings rebuilt and undamaged by the bombings. Nothing like the broken, rundown ones in the ghettos. This area was back to its former glory, however not quite the same. The life, the very essence of what had made this city come alive and be vibrant, was no longer there. Just a shell of what it had been. All cosmetics and no substance.

They pulled up to headquarters where two soldiers waited.

“Great,” she sighed.

“You think they’re waiting for us?” Roman asked, eyeing the men through the windshield.

“Who else would they be waiting for?” she said. “Looks like I’m not getting sleep after all.”

“He might just want a quick update.” He opened the door and got out, leaning down so he could look at her where she was still sitting. “Don’t worry, I’ll make sure he doesn’t keep us long.”

“I need you two to go take care of an issue for me,” Ludwig said as soon as they sat down in front of his desk. He sat across from them looking as prim and proper as always, despite it being five in the morning. Sometimes Dinah wondered if he was actually human. Vampire maybe? Honestly, she wouldn’t be surprised.

“What do you need us to do?” Roman asked.

“We got word that the rebels are bringing in reinforcements from up north. Things are happening in their camps. I’m not sure what exactly, but I’m in the process of finding out,” he answered.

“And how are you doing that?” Dinah said.

Ludwig winked at her. “Don’t worry, my dear. I’ve got it covered.”

“You have someone on the inside?” Roman asked, sitting forward in his chair.

“Sort of,” he replied ambiguously. “They’re bringing the men in on some truck, through the countryside. I’d like you two to intercept it. No deaths. I just want them to know that we’re aware of what they’re doing. We don’t want them getting too comfortable.”

“I can handle it alone,” Roman said. “Let Lottey get some rest. She’s been worked hard the last two days.”

Dinah hated when people treated her like she was fragile, but for once she was actually thankful to Roman. However, her hopes and dreams of soft mattresses and hours of sleep were dashed by Ludwig’s reply. “I need her there. If these men are coming in from out of town, it’s possible they don’t have the same training as the ones based here in the city. I’m hoping Di can get some information off them. Arrest anyone we can use. Let the rest go.”

Roman glanced at her, apologetically. “When do we leave?”

“Now. My informant gave me the time and location of where the truck will be entering the city. I’d like there to be a welcome committee waiting by the time they arrive.”

Dinah sighed inwardly. Guess there really is no such thing as rest for the wicked, she thought miserably.

Something nudged at him. Pete brushed it away, but whatever it was, it was persistent. He murmured unintelligibly, curling in on himself further.

“McKay, get up,” a voice urged. Pete opened his eyes, blinking at the navy fabric in front of his face. Where the hell was he? He turned his head slightly to see Bridgette glaring at him, hands on her hips. “You sleep like the dead,” she said.

He sat up slowly, looking around her small apartment. Slowly the night before came back to him and he remembered coming here around two to make sure she was home. He must have crashed on her couch, because that was all he remembered.

“What time is it?” he asked in a hoarse voice, rubbing his eyes.

“Five,” she answered.

“Jesus, Bridge,” he groaned. “I’ve only been asleep for three hours. Are you trying to torture me?”

She huffed, walking away to the kitchen. Cupboard doors started banging as she began to prepare coffee. “You specifically instructed me to wake you up at five,” she said.

“I did?” He did? Why did he need to be up so damn early? Then he remembered his meeting with the General last night. They were bringing in more men from up north today. Douglas wanted more of their men in the city for the attack in a few weeks. Shit. He needed to get going. “I need to take a piss.”

“And I didn’t need to know that,” she shot back.

Pete shut the door to her tiny bathroom and did his morning ritual. He splashed some water on his face, looking at the bags under his eyes in the mirror above the sink. Not looking too good, McKay. He’d had too much to drink the night before and it was showing. He was pretty sure he still smelled like stale alcohol. Probably leaking out of his pores. The fact that he had let himself get that drunk just to forget the reason why he was strung so tight was even more pathetic than how he was feeling now.

Dinah had been missing for two days. It was ridiculous really, but Pete was actually concerned. He had no way of getting in touch with her to make sure she was safe, and the last time they had seen each other was when those other soldiers saw her with them. What if Ludwig found out and killed her? The possibility had been driving him insane the last couple of days. He’d been way more surly and miserable than usual and all because of a girl.

What was she doing to him?

Bridgette banged on the door. “Move it or lose it.”

“Look who decided to show up.” Pete walked over and gave the man a hug.

“How are you, Uncle Carl?” he asked, stepping back to look at the man who was closer to his father than anyone else he knew.

“Been alright,” he smiled. “Me ulcer is acting up again, but that’s about it.”

“Probably not a good thing to be drinking as much whiskey as you do, mate,” Pete pointed out.

He laughed, waving him off. “Boy, with the way the world is nowadays, I probably won’t be around much longer anyway. No sense in giving up the things I love.”

Pete nodded, slapping him on the back. There were five other guys waiting outside of St. Anne’s. “Is this it then?” They nodded. “Let’s go.”

The early morning air was chilly as they made their way through the empty streets to the outskirts of the city. Cars were not allowed in the eastern ghetto, or any of the ghettos for that matter, so they were forced to walk the trek. If there were any vehicles, it was always one of the New World army. Although the rebels did have a few illegal vehicles stored away for emergencies. They weren’t taken out often. Pete missed the days of mobility. The men from the north were coming in a small truck disguised as bakery supplies. Some of the merchants got to use them for shipping in or out of the city.

By the time they reached the meeting point it had warmed up a bit. Pete pulled out a smoke, and leaned against the chain-link fence separating the ghetto from the country roads. This particular gate was hardly used or monitored by the army, so it was always used by the rebels. He wasn’t sure if the army even knew about it. No one spoke as they waited around, keeping an eye open for anything suspicious. It wasn’t long before the sound of wheels behind him could be heard approaching. Finally, he thought. Now he could go back to his own apartment and actually sleep for a few hours in a bed.

“Open the gates,” he called out, tossing his butt.

The beat up, green truck made its way slowly toward them. Uncle Carl was pulling the gates open just as they reached them. The driver jumped out, walking over to Pete. He was a man in his late forties, black hair highlighted with streaks of grey and a huge beard that reached his chest.

“McKay,” he greeted, holding out his hand. “Ollie.”

“Ollie,” Pete said, shaking the man’s hand. “Nice to meet you, mate. How was the journey?”

Ollie smiled. “Not bad for me, but I’m not sure I can say the same for the lads in the back. A bit bumpy that road.”

Pete laughed. “A few pints and they won’t be feeling too sore anymore.”

“Sounds about right,” he nodded. “I don’t want to open it up here, just to be safe. The General mentioned you guys have a garage where you’ve hidden another truck. Think we can park it there?”

“Absolutely,” Pete answered. “I’ll jump in with you and give you directions while these guys lock everything back up.”

“Sounds good.”

Pete turned to call out his orders when the sound of more wheels had him spinning back around. Three black SUVs pulled up, surrounding them. The back door of one popped open and out stepped Roman Adamson.

“Shit,” he cursed. Ollie straightened, keeping his eyes on the vehicles as more New World army soldiers began exiting the trucks.

“We got a problem?” Ollie whispered.

The door on the opposite side of the SUV Roman stepped out of opened just then, revealing an achingly familiar body dressed in black.

“Yeah, mate. Yeah we do.”

Chapter Fourteen

Dinah tried her best to keep her eyes from going to him, but it was becoming impossible. She glanced his way again for what felt like the hundredth time since she stepped out of the SUV, and just like every other time he was staring back.

“Well what do we have here?” Roman said casually. “Out for a morning stroll, boys? Or do you all work for a bakery?”

“We gotta make a living somehow,” Pete answered. Roman’s head snapped in his direction, recognition washing over his face.

“Ah, my
mate
,” Roman chuckled. “You do tend to be in a lot of places we happen across.”

Pete smirked. “What can I say? I’m a popular guy.”

“So it would seem,” he replied dryly. Pete glanced at Dinah, his green eyes burning. She had a crazy urge to just go up to him and wrap her arms around his neck. Stupid. Thank God her face was hidden, otherwise she’d have a hard time explaining the flush now covering her cheeks to Roman. “Shipping in lots of flour are we?”

Pete looked away, focusing on Roman again. “One can never have enough flour.”

“I bet.” Roman motioned to two soldiers. “Bring this through the gates and park it by those buildings. You lot, line up against the fence and don’t move.” He turned to face Pete and the older man beside him. “You two can come with us over by the buildings.”

“Can’t get enough of me, mate?” Pete asked, shoving his hands in his pockets.

Roman snorted. “That mouth of yours will get you killed one day. I’d watch it if I were you. Now move.”

Dinah followed them over to the buildings. Roman had the van parked between two of them so it was trapped. They weren’t sure how many guys were in there. Dinah hoped whoever Ludwig’s informant was, he knew what he was talking about. There wouldn’t be any room for them to run out in the alley, especially with the soldiers blocking the area, weapons ready. Dinah stood back, beside the SUV. She would wait until they had the men out and subdued before she went over to search them.

Pete and the other man stood between her and where Roman was, their backs to her. A soldier stood beside them, gun pointed. She really wished he’d look back at her, but knew it wasn’t a good idea with everyone else around. What was he thinking right now? He was probably pissed, she realized. Here she was, spending her morning ruining his and the rebels’ plans, while at night she became just another friend of his. Or, at least, she hoped they were friends. It really didn’t work. This was the first time they saw each other in their enemy forms again. Maybe he’d realize after this how impossible it was to be anything
but
enemies.

Her heart hurt at the loss of what she barely even had. It was for the best though, she reassured herself. They both knew it wouldn’t work, and this situation would just reinforce that truth.

“Which one of you has the key to unlock the back?” Roman called out, appearing from inside the alley. Neither Pete nor the older man spoke. “Either one of you has the key, and is going to bring it here to me, or I’m going to shoot off the lock, and possibly anything else inside that truck. I’d hate to get holes in your flour bags.”

Dinah smirked behind her mask. Roman and his sarcasm, like peanut butter and jelly it just went well together.