Dream Bound (31 page)

“What do you think of him?”

Lizzie had settled back into the recliner, and Rodie knew it was time to get back to the lodge, but she thought about Lizzie’s question. “I think there’s a lot more to Mac Dugan than I ever gave him credit for. I mean, I knew he was brilliant and had to be terribly focused to be as successful as he is, but there’s so much more. He has an amazing strength of will, and he loves Zianne so much you can feel it. I guess it makes him seem a lot more human to me than before.”

Lizzie waved as Rodie turned to go. “Funny thing, isn’t it? I find myself thinking of the Nyrians as more human than a lot of the people I know. They’re certainly nicer than some.”

Rodie laughed as she closed the door behind her, but Lizzie’s comment about Morgan stayed with her. That and what she had to say about the Nyrians.

It was true. Bolt was one of the nicest men she’d ever met. And he wasn’t even close to human.

15

A
s soon as Rodie got back, Morgan spread a bunch of papers covered in handwritten notes across the table in front of him. “Mac, I want to run a few things by you about the protestors at the front gate.”

Mac nodded. “Go on.”

“The one leading them is named Bart Roberts. You said you have no idea who he is or why he might have it in for you. Does the name Patrick Randle mean anything to you?”

“Randle?” Mac rubbed his fingers over his chin, realized he needed a shave, and frowned. “Yeah. It does. Years ago a couple of guys broke into my apartment. Almost killed a friend of mine, but we fought them off. Actually, Zianne took care of them, but I managed to keep her out of the police report. One of the guys who died was named Randle. His first name might have been Pat. I’d have to check.”

“Don’t worry. I already did. Patrick Randle was Bart Roberts’s brother. Bart legally changed his name to Roberts shortly after Pat’s death. The original Bartholomew Roberts was a famous Welsh pirate in the seventeen hundreds—no idea if there’s a link there or not. Anyway, Bart Roberts bought the property on the hillside below you the same year you bought yours.”

That didn’t make sense. Mac leaned back in his chair. “We checked into the ownership years ago. Are you sure Roberts owns it? My legal department said it belongs to some sort of nature conservancy—God’s Creatures, or something like that.”

“They didn’t look deep enough. God’s Creatures is owned and operated through a dummy corporation funded exclusively by one Bartholomew Roberts.”

“Holy shit.” Mac leaned forward and planted both hands on the table. “You’re saying he followed me up here? That there could be some sort of really long-term revenge thing going on?”

“Was Zianne actively involved in his brother’s death?”

Mac nodded. “You might say that.” He tried to sound matter-of-fact, but he couldn’t stop the smile. “She turned into a column of energy, hauled the bastard to the edge of the third-floor landing in front of my place, and tossed him off. That was after she’d already thrown the first guy over the edge. Then she came inside and saved my friend’s life. That’s the night I discovered who and what she really was.”

“Hookay.” Morgan stretched the word out on a low whistle, then chuckled softly. “I had no idea she was so bloodthirsty.” He shuffled his notes. “I’m just running with ideas here, but what if Bart was there that night? What if he saw Zianne in her energy form, and knows you weren’t the one who killed his brother? That it was something or someone totally inhuman? What if he knows more about this array than you’re giving him credit for? Knows about the Nyrians, or at least that you’re dealing with an alien life-form? What if he’s after Zianne, not you?”

“Shit.” Mac stared at Morgan. “That’s a lot of ‘what ifs,’ but it could mean this religious crap is just a cover.”

“Could be. But I think the real danger is tied to what happened last night. Those armed intruders trying to break in through the back fence? We have no proof he was involved, but it seems pretty obvious to me, especially since he’s behind the protests out front, and his property abuts yours in back.”

Mac shoved his chair away from the table and stood up. He felt like he was going to explode if he didn’t move. “What could they possibly hope to achieve by coming on site?”

“We never got a good look at any of them. For all you know, they could have been carrying explosives. Maybe they want to destroy the array to prevent you from contacting aliens.” Morgan shrugged. “The point is, we need to keep an eye on him and his activities. I think it’s a lot more than just a quasi-religious group protesting you as the great Satan.”

Mac nodded. “Dink might be able to help us with Roberts.”

“Who?” Rodie scowled. “Why do I know that name?”

“I’ve mentioned him before. Dink’s an old friend, the only one outside of you guys who knows about Zianne and the Nyrians. You might know him as Nils Dinkemann.”

“Shit.” Kiera stared at Mac with her mouth hanging open. “You mean that drop-dead gorgeous newscaster? The one that’s all over the world covering crap and getting shot at?”

“The same. We’ve been friends for years. I called him this morning and asked him to come out here. He should arrive some time tonight.”

“But why?”

Mac let out a long, slow breath as he curled his hands into fists. “Because, Kiera, this whole thing with the Nyrians is going to blow wide open, and soon. I’ve been hoping we could rescue them, then bring them in quietly. Get the papers they need to stay here in the U.S. without anyone knowing the truth, but I’m afraid that’s not going to happen.”

“Why not?” Kiera glanced at the others. “That would be the safest way. Bring them in undercover and quietly assimilate them into the general population.”

“It would be, in a perfect world. But I want Dink here covering the story. He’s a respectable member of the established press, and he loves Zianne almost as much as I do. If everything goes to hell, I want him here to spin it to give the Nyrians the best chance at acceptance. And if Bart Roberts is Patrick Randle’s brother, we’re going to have to be ready to counteract whatever he has to say.”

An earsplitting
whoop, whoop, whoop
drowned him out. Kiera slapped her hands over her ears. Rodie and Morgan shot to their feet, and Mac raced for the front door of the lodge. “That’s the fire alarm!” he yelled. “Ralph? What’s going on?”

The handyman was running for the garage beside the employee barracks. “Fire. Down by the front gate. I’ve called it in.”

Mac turned around. “Finn? Get to the dream shack, stay with Lizzie and Zianne. There’s a fire by the front gate and it’s windy out here. Morgan, Rodie, and Kiera, if it spreads, if it looks like it’s getting close, make sure the decks and walls stay wet. Roofs are all tin exactly for this reason. There’s nothing around the array to burn, power lines are underground, so the dishes are safe. Hoses are by all the buildings. Ralph’s contacted CDF. Worst-case scenario, get to the exercise room below the lodge and shut the door. It’s a fireproof bunker with its own power and water supply. Cam? Protect that schematic. We’re going to need it.”

He took one last look as they all jumped into action. Then he shut the door and headed toward the fire.

Kiera looked blankly at Morgan. “Who’s CDF?”

“California Department of Forestry. They handle fire protection up here.” He left his notes on the table, grabbed Rodie’s hand, and glanced at her short pants and flip-flops. “You need long pants and boots. C’mon. Crap. I wonder how it started?”

“Give ya three guesses, and the first two don’t count.”

“My thoughts exactly, sweetheart. Let’s go.”

Cam grabbed the schematic drawing of the ship. “I’ll stick this downstairs. Then I’ll be out to help.” He raced toward the stairs that led to the exercise room.

The rest of them ran outside. Finn headed for the dream shack. Morgan hauled Rodie behind him and raced toward her cabin. He was already wearing jeans and hiking boots and so was Kiera.

She kept pace with the two of them. “You’re not leaving me back there! Shit. It looks like it’s spreading really fast.”

Dark, boiling columns of smoke in shades from rusty brown to gray to black billowed above the trees below them, and the crackling of flames grew louder by the second. A brisk wind blew hot embers along the ground and overhead.

Racing across the short stretch between the lodge and Rodie’s cabin, the three of them hit the steps and got inside. Morgan slammed the door against the smoke-filled air. Rodie stripped off her shorts and pulled on jeans and heavy socks while Morgan found her hiking boots in the closet. He knelt in front of her, tying one while she did the other.

He had to bite back a grin. When she’d pulled off her pants, he’d noticed black bikini panties with legs cut high on the sides.

Just like his fantasy. But damn, now was not the time to be sporting a boner. He finished tying her boot and stood up. By the time they got outside, the air was thick with smoke and burning embers swirling all about. Squinting through the ashes, Morgan shouted at Rodie. “We need water on the bunkhouse and lodge. I’ll take care of the bunkhouse first. You guys grab the hoses at the lodge and wet down the walls and the deck. Then Liz’s and Finn’s cabins. They’re closest.”

Kiera grabbed the hose by the front of the lodge and began spraying the wooden deck. Rodie went after one on the side facing the woods. Remembering the security guys from the night shift, Morgan raced across to the bunkhouse and banged on the door. “Anyone in there? Wake up. We’ve got a fire out here. Wake up!”

Still yelling, he grabbed the hose down below and turned it on. After a couple of minutes, the door flew open and two men stumbled out, half dressed and still half asleep. The first guy was hardly more than a kid. He stared at the smoke, rubbing his eyes and blinking. “Shit. Need clothes.” He turned and went back inside. The other man, a bit older, stared at the billowing smoke.

“Those bastards.” He glared at Morgan. “You know who started this, don’t you?”

Morgan shot a stream of water at a small patch of grass where a burning ember had landed. “I’ve got a damned good idea.” He glanced at the guy’s bare feet. “You’d better get some clothes and heavy boots. If it goes out of control, Mac said to take shelter in the exercise room. It’s fireproof and has a filtered air supply.”

“Thanks.” The man disappeared inside the bunkhouse. Morgan sprayed down the entire area around the building, soaking the deck and walls. The trees had been cut back and the ground was hard and rocky, so there was very little vegetation to burn. The roof was tin, as were the roofs on all the buildings, but the structures themselves were made of logs.

He kept water spraying on the flammable areas and kept his eye on Rodie.

Finn slipped inside the dream shack.

Lizzie waved from her chair. “Thanks for coming. I looked out the door when I heard the siren. Saw the smoke, but I figure the dream shack is probably the safest place on the whole site.”

“I think you’re right. It’d take a hell of a fire to burn concrete blocks. This place is like a damned bunker.”

“Mac told me it’s to protect the equipment—if there’s a power failure, the temperature remains stable because of the thick concrete walls. It can get really cold up here, and just as hot in the summer.”

She stopped talking and took a deep breath, tilted her head, and frowned. “Finn ... ?”

“What’s the matter, Liz? You’re safe here.” He leaned against the console and folded his arms across his chest.

“It’s not the fire I’m worried about.” She glanced at the tote in the corner with Zianne. “What if it doesn’t work? What if we can’t save them? Have you thought about that?”

Finn stared at the skylight overhead, at the thick clouds of smoke blowing by. Everything he’d ever thought was important to him had taken a huge one eighty since last night. He hadn’t been able to get Tara and Duran off his mind. Somehow, in just the short time they’d been together in the early morning hours, he’d lost his heart.

Or maybe he’d just lost his mind. “That’s all I have thought of. I wish I could think of something else.” He stared at Liz and tried to recall the women he’d had sex with. He couldn’t call it making love. In fact, until he and the Nyrians—no, make that Tara and Duran, because they were more than just aliens from another world—until he’d been with them, Finn didn’t think he’d ever known what making love even was.

It was weird, really, when he let himself think of it, but he was thirty-three years old. He’d gotten his first piece of ass—an eighteen-year-old neighbor girl—when he was thirteen, which meant he’d been screwing women for twenty years. The same twenty years Mac Dugan had been working toward rescuing Zianne and her people.

While Mac had focused his time and energy on saving lives, Finn had focused on getting laid.

What did that say about him as a man?

Certainly nothing he could be proud of.

Last night when Tara and Duran had come to his cabin, the experience had been unique on a number of levels, but the most important was actually pretty pathetic. It had been the very first time he’d ever connected with a bed partner on any level beyond his dick inside a warm pussy.

Hell, what he’d shared with Duran had been more intimate than with all the women he could recall. He and another man had made love. When Finn thought about the way it had felt to suck Duran’s cock, to taste him, it made his hands tremble. When he’d submitted, when Duran had entered him, Finn hadn’t been embarrassed; he hadn’t felt really stupid. No, he’d felt loved, which was just weird.

The thought of sex with any other man didn’t interest him at all, but he wanted to hold Duran again. Wanted to make him smile the way he had when they’d made love.

And Tara. There were no words for the way she made him feel. He’d made love to her, and just thinking of the soft slide of his cock into her warm, wet sheath made him hard. Made him want.

Made him finally understand what he’d been looking for. What he’d never expected to find. “Last night was a game changer for me, Liz. Something I never thought would happen to me did, and I’m still not sure how to deal with it.”