Dare You to Run (34 page)

*   *   *

“She's not bad,” Kagan said.

“Got to agree,” Dunn added.

Vitus didn't say anything, but it was the honest truth that he was proud of Damascus. She had Tyler fooled. The car was making steady progress toward the Ryland estate. There was a bitter taste as a memory stirred.

‘The bad guys win … a lot.'

He knew it, had been face-to-face with that harsh edge of reality more than once. He just hoped that today wouldn't end up being another one of those cases.

*   *   *

“Baby!”

Damascus hadn't expected her mother to be home. It was a relief that nearly swept her off her feet. Miranda Delacroix was out the front door before Damascus got out of the car.

“Mom!”

For one, blissful moment, she was in her mother's arms.

“Now Miranda, you shouldn't be up.” Jeb came through the double doors that connected to his office. “Where is that nurse I hired to look after you?”

“Oh really, Jeb.” Her mother let her go and looked at her husband. “I don't need a home nurse.”

“I will be the judge of that,” her sire snapped, but he stepped back when her mother sent him a stern look.

“Well now,” her sire backpedaled, “I'm just so worried about you.”

“You're so sweet to be concerned about me,” her mother cooed but turned back to Damascus and slipped an arm around her waist. “But I have to be a mother right now. Our daughter needs me.”

Her mother swept her right past Jeb and into the house. Somewhere, Tyler was whispering to her sire, but that didn't keep Damascus from seeing the way his complexion had darkened.

For sure, the second shoe was going to drop just as soon as Jeb could figure out how to get around his wife. For just a moment, a tingle of suspicion went down her back. There was something in her mother's smile that hinted at her being more aware of the undercurrents surrounding her than she'd ever let on.

You're just seeing what you want to see.

Maybe. But one thing was certain: her sire was going to take issue with her the second he could.

Well, bring it.

*   *   *

The congressman's security was good.

But Vitus was better.

He waited, listening to the footfalls of the guard rising up behind him like a shadow. The man never knew what hit him. Vitus locked his arm around his throat, cutting off the blood supply to his brain and holding still until he slumped into an unconscious heap.

Saxon pulled the cap off a syringe and injected the contents into the guy's arm before Vitus dragged him behind a row a perfectly clipped shrubs.

They moved closer to the house, skirting along the edge of the shadows and taking out the surveillance cameras with an infrared laser. Dunn kept pace with them expertly well. For a half second, Vitus pondered just where the man had gotten his training. No one came by knowledge like that by instinct. It was drilled into a man. Dunn knew it, had experienced it, which left Vitus curious as to the man's past and his relationship with Kagan.

Vitus returned his focus to the mission. He couldn't falter now. Before, it had only been his life on the line. Now, there was so much more.

*   *   *

Kagan dialed Colonel Magnus's personal cell phone. It buzzed a few time before he answered.

“Should I be surprised that you have this number?” Bryan asked.

Kagan chuckled. “Be surprised that I have a picture of you in a pirate costume holding a parrot.”

There was a clipped word on the other end of the line before the Colonel chuckled. “Every man has his form of letting loose. But considering one of your teams was investigating my daughter earlier this year, I can understand why you have those pictures. The parrot's name is Harley. Why did you call?”

“I just returned Ms. Ryland to Tyler Martin, sort of thought you'd like to know your asset is back on home soil.”

There was a long pause. “I'm an hour outside of Washington. Magnus out.”

Kagan didn't get surprised often. He sat there, looking at the disconnected call and discovered himself blindsided. He checked his Intel again and it clearly showed Colonel Magnus in California. It was a telling bit of information, one that he enjoyed knowing. Dunn Bateson was the only link to Magnus. One Kagan needed to remember.

*   *   *

“I've sent your mother to bed.”

The other shoe had dropped. Damascus turned to see her sire coming through the doorway of her bedroom, Tyler Martin on his heels. It wasn't the presence of the security man that chilled her blood, it was the absence of any other personnel. The house was eerily quiet, as in dead silent.

Well, it was a fitting backdrop. It also suited the feeling of the gun against her thigh. Keeping the weapon hidden had been a chore as her mother tried to help her. It had been worth it. Without a doubt, it was do or die time.

“And this time, her nurse has made sure she'll stay there,” Jeb informed her with a nasty little sneer.

“You should be ashamed,” Damascus admonished him. “My mother has always done exactly what you wanted.”

“Yes, she has,” Jeb answered with a frown. “Until today. That's one more thing you are going to answer for, Damascus. Mark my words on that.”

“Actually, it's going to be your turn to answer for a few things.” She stood her ground, enjoying it far more than she'd anticipated she might.

Her sire was less than impressed. He offered her a slow, amused smile as he spread his hands out. “How do you propose to do anything of the sort?” He backhanded her. The blow sent her staggering, but she recovered quickly. Martin was waiting for her, reaching out to grab a handful of hair. She cried out as he wrenched her in front of her sire.

Jeb grunted, satisfied like a glutton at a buffet table. She struck in the moment, lifting her knee and kicking her foot up into his throat. The front snap kick worked as well, granting her a shot of confidence as she mentally thanked Vitus for training her.

Jeb recoiled, sputtering as Tyler jerked her back. Pain tore through her scalp, but she ended up tumbling away and gaining her freedom. She scrambled to her feet, kicking her useless shoes off. But when she turned to face her sire, she was looking down the barrel of a gun. Tyler Martin had it leveled at her face, just far enough away to keep her from making a try at disarming him. She needed him off balance, mad enough to spill information.

And the truth was, she was going to enjoy every second of pushing his buttons.

Jeb was wiping his lips with a handkerchief, his complexion pale. There was a tremble in his fingers as he shoved the soiled linen into his suit jacket pocket. “I had really hoped to avoid this, Damascus. Truly I did, but it seems I must take you in hand.” He looked at Tyler. “I believe some privacy is in order. My office if you please.”

*   *   *

“She was right,” Saxon said. “Bastard has a sealed office.”

“Will the link still work?” Vitus demanded.

Dunn looked up from the tablet he was watching Tyler Martin and Damascus on. “It should.”

“That's not fucking good enough,” Vitus bit out.

“I know,” Dunn countered. “We'd better get in there.”

Saxon was already overriding the house security system. Vitus pulled a pair of pliers out of his pants pocket and watched his brother, judging the timing before he reached into the loosened security panel and jerked a wire free. There was a soft buzz before the whole thing went dead. Dunn jammed a crowbar into the door, and wood split as it gave.

The lack of response from anyone inside the house sent a chill down his spine. It had all the makings of a perfect unsolved crime. No witnesses and he and his team had been the ones to take out the security systems. There was going to be a body on the floor, and it chilled his blood as he considered just whose it might be.

“You see Damascus, your duty to me has always been to bring attention and votes.”

Jeb Ryland's words fueled Vitus's effort as he took off into the house, scared for the first time in his life as he undertook a mission.

Fucking scared to death that he was going to fail.

*   *   *

One chance.

One last chance.

The feeling was strangely euphoric, an unexpected mixture of anticipation and gut-wrenching dread.

It felt like her brain was moving in slow motion. She could clearly hear each beat of her heart, could notice the way she picked up each of her feet, bent each knee, and then lowered each foot to the floor while the office door got closer and closer.

It was the point of no return, like a pit where she and her sire were going to enter to fight, and only one of them was going to be left standing when the door opened.

She felt Vitus's frustration, would have sworn there was a current connecting them as Tyler marched her through the doorway. They were sealed inside, her fate in her own hands.

Well, it was the way it needed to be. If she didn't walk out, she would die contented because she'd been worthy of the man she loved.

*   *   *

The house echoed with the footfalls of men running like in some sort of action movie. Outside, the rain was thrashing against the windows and hailing down on the roof. Inside, the heavy pounding of booted soles was muffled by double-cushioned carpeted hallways.

But the connection of a fist against the outer door of Jeb Ryland's sealed office ricocheted through the house. If will alone could have taken down the barrier, it would have crumbled.

“Fuck,” Vitus snarled. He checked the cell phone, gaining a horrifying glimpse of what was happening on the other side of the wall. The image froze and flickered as it bounced off a satellite and back down onto his screen.

He stepped back and kicked the door. Saxon joined him, but the door held.

“It's reinforced,” Dunn snapped. “Nothing short of C-4 is getting through it.”

“We'd better find some and fast,” Vitus snarled. “Kitchen.” It was the only place in the house where there might be something they could use to make an explosive.

*   *   *

“Now.” Jed Ryland was clearly feeling back on his turf and in control. He shrugged out of his suit jacket and tossed it toward the huge, padded chair behind his desk. He moved back toward her and sent her reeling with another hard strike across her face. Damascus made a show of stumbling and falling.

“I won't do it,” she snapped at him, taking solace in the feeling of the gun against her thigh. She stayed on the floor, reaching for it.

“You will do whatever I say!” Jeb snarled.

There was a click as the door popped open. Damascus bit her lip to keep from crying out. It was too soon. Her sire hadn't said anything yet. But it was her mother who calmly walked through the door and pressed a small remote that she tucked back into her pocket as the door began to close behind her.

“Mom?”

Her mother offered her a smile but this one wasn't soft and it wasn't unknowing.

“Miranda. Really, what are you doing here?” Jeb was knocked for a loop, reeling as he brushed his hair back and blinked as though that would somehow make his wife disappear.

“I told you Jeb, I'm here to be a mother,” Miranda informed him. “You seem to not understand what being a parent means. I've been very disappointed in you for several years now, but I truly never thought you'd go so far as kidnapping.”

She shook her head and removed the remote from her pocket. “Still, one must always be prepared for the bumps in the road life offers up.”

Jeb gaped at his wife. “How?”

“How did I know you arranged for our daughter to be abducted?” Miranda smiled softly. “I am a Delacroix. Everyone who is anyone wants to be connected to my family. That's why you married me after all.”

Jeb Ryland pressed his lips into a hard line. “Quite right. And”—her sire returned to his objective—“she is going to marry Carl Davis and I will be his running mate, putting us in line for a run in another eight years. Exactly what your family would approve of.”

Her sire had raised one finger into the air, as if he was instructing pupils in a private school.

“Don't be ridiculous Jeb. Carl is gay. That sort of thing will get out,” Miranda Delacroix admonished her husband. Damascus struggled to her feet, blinking in astonishment as she looked at her mother.

This certainly was a side of her Damascus had never seen.

“Miranda,” her sire sighed. “Really, this simply must be done. I thought to have it over and finished while you slept. You're too soft with Damascus, always have been. I've been driven to these measures.”

Her mother offered Jeb a smile that was very knowing for a change. “Ah yes, while I slept. With the help of those pills you had your man hand me. Or, dear me, I mean personal nurse? Really Jeb, you must think me an idiot.” There was a fire in her mother's voice that intrigued Damascus. Her mother sent her a look that was bright with impending victory. “I drank a cup of vegetable oil before going upstairs. It's going to go right to my hips, but it coated the lining of my stomach. So, if you think you are going to get up to any shenanigans with our daughter, you are sadly mistaken.”

Her sire scoffed at his wife. “Miranda, don't make this harder on yourself than necessary. You're setting a bad example for our daughter.”

“On the contrary, I seem to be the only one showing her how to behave,” her mother shot back. “I've played the part you wanted, but now you've gone too far.”

Jeb snorted at his spouse. “Too far? The hell I've gone too far! You always knew what I wanted. The White House. We had an agreement, one your father shook my hand over.” He pointed at Miranda, his complexion going dark. “And you are going to continue to hold up your end of the deal? You will be everything I want you to be! Both of you will.”