In the Dead of Cold (21 page)

Remembering Rose brought him as much pain and terror as seeing Jane caught in Bart’s grasp.

“Because I think I found her first. So technically, she belongs to me,” Bart went on. “When did you learn of her interesting abilities? Did you learn about them the hard way, as I did? I feel her now, trying to push me away. But I think this ability sucks her energy from her, and perhaps she’s used all her reserves keeping Ella hidden from me.” He focused once again on Jane for no longer than a heartbeat, as if he didn’t trust taking his gaze off Milo. “That was a wonderful trick, my dear.”

Milo tried not to look at Jane because he feared that Jane’s features would melt and look like Rose again. And the thought that history was about to be repeated with the woman he loved dying ate at him like a cold, rabid animal out of control. He watched Bart and tried to tune into the thoughts of his greatest enemy. After all, Milo should know Bart’s thought process better than anyone. “How did you get in here, past our perimeters, beyond the sentinels?”

“It was rather easy.”

“Your woman invited you in,” Milo put in. “And then someone else helped you.”

“I’m irritated that I didn’t try it before. But I never found it necessary earlier.” He looked back at Jane. “And what’s this?” He looked down at Milo’s bite mark on her throat. “Does this hurt?” He touched it with his thumb.

Jane sucked in a sudden, pain-filled breath. Milo felt her pain, and his heart clenched. “Let her go, Bart.”

“Oh, it does hurt, doesn’t it, Jane?” Bart mocked and ignored Milo as he pressed into her flesh with his thumb. “How much do you think it would hurt if I sank my teeth into it? I think it’ll be worth the taste.”

In the same instant, Milo let his own fangs out. He was little more than a streak as he moved across the room and slammed into Bart to keep Bart’s teeth away from Jane.

The collision sent Bart and Milo crashing into the nearby wall.

Teeth flashed. Bart let out a huff as Milo managed to sink his teeth into Bart’s shoulder. Milo grunted when Bart’s fangs grazed his own arm, but he never pulled away. Instead, with a powerful hand, Milo reached for Bart’s throat, having every intention of killing him. But then Bart turned to him and smiled. Milo could move fast and his thoughts were well into the fight, but he’d made the gravest error by turning his back on an enemy. He’d forgotten about the unknown woman who’d gotten Bart through the front door.

A shot rang out at the same time Milo felt the heat of the bullet slam into his back and shove him forward. He hit the floor in a mind-numbing blow.

Everything after that happened in less than two seconds. Yet, to Milo, looking at it with the side of his face pressed against the carpet, it happened in very slow motion.

August rushed the woman, taking three shots in the stomach before he got his hand over hers on the gun. Milo heard the bones in her fingers break with the force August used to take the gun from her. Doug jumped in and popped the woman in the jaw as August’s knees gave out. Both August and the woman joined Milo on the floor.

Despite the pain in his back, Milo felt Jane’s energy like static electricity that moved through him as she attempted to shove Bart across the living room away from all of them. Bart staggered as if he were drunk. An intense energy swirled through the room. Then Jane fell hard, landing on her hands and knees. With what little strength he had left, Milo managed to pull his GLOCK from under his arm. His hand was a bit unsteady, but he hit Bart with two rounds. Bart cried out. He moved closer to Jane, and Milo was terrified to take a third shot.

Bart grabbed her hair and forced her to look up at him. “I’ll be back for you, you little bitch. You’ll be hearing my voice in your mind again soon.”

Pulling in his energy and his speed, Bart became something that resembled the Tasmanian devil. He spun around and crashed through the nearby sliding glass door that led to the balcony, leaped over the railing, and disappeared like smoke into the snow-filled darkness.

Milo heard Graham give the order to go after him. And he heard Graham order nourishment for his men who were down.

“Milo.” Jane choked out his name as she reached out and took his hand in hers.

Milo felt the exhaustion that plagued her, ate at her like some hungry monster. With her hand tucked in his, she surrendered to that hungry monster, closed her eyes, and drifted away.

She might have been lost to unconsciousness, but Milo felt her warmth wash through him. She had, yet again, eluded the cold evil of Bart. She was safe and unharmed. Mrs. M. and his team—except for August and Garth—were safe. And until he healed himself, he couldn’t help August. He closed his eyes and concentrated on his own wound, forcing the bullet out of his back as he stopped the blood flow and closed the tissue.

The entire time, he never let go of Jane’s hand.

Chapter Ten

Milo stood in Graham’s living room, watching Jane through the open bedroom door as she tended to Ella. He needed her in his arms, her heart separated from his by only the layers of their skin. She met his gaze and offered him a soft smile. Then she placed a quilt over Mrs. M., who lay on the huge bed. She leaned down close to hear something Ella said. He didn’t usually tap into his keen sense of hearing to eavesdrop, but he wanted to stay in tune with Jane as much as possible. Mrs. M. was concerned about the dinner still on the stove. Jane assured her it had all been placed in the refrigerator. Milo closed his eyes to keep from rolling them. Hell, Mrs. M. could have been taken by their greatest enemy, and she was worried about dinner. He supposed he would never understand women.

Two men finished replacing the broken door leading to the balcony. The room was cool, but cold air and glistening snow no longer swirled into the room. Milo itched to get Jane down to his bed and lose himself in her. But he still had a job to do.

He set up a team to find out the identity of Bart’s assistant, who was still unconscious but now handcuffed in Mr. M.’s office under tight guard.

The three teams who hunted Bart checked in every ten minutes and as yet had found nothing. Bart’s vanishing act was as good as Jane’s. But then Milo had known Mr. M. to move just as fast when necessary. And, Milo thought, for Jane he would do the same.

Milo ended his call to team leader number three. He watched Jane tuck the quilt around Mrs. M. He took in a heavy breath as his heart went out to both women. Jane had to be exhausted after all the energy she’d exerted. He wanted nothing more than to lead her to his bed and lie down beside her. His back, despite the quick heal he’d managed after being shot, still burned.

He heard Mr. M. speak to Jane. “Can you stay with her while I talk to Milo?”

“Of course.”

Graham came out of the bedroom.

“How’s Mrs. M.?” Milo asked softly.

“Resting. In her weakened state with her pregnancy, he can control her as easily as he can a mortal woman. But he didn’t do any major damage. How’s August?”

“Healing. I sent him to his room.”

Graham sat down in a nearby chair. “Good. What about Garth?”

“Stan’s team is checking him out down in the medical office. He’s like Steve Abel—alive but unresponsive. And the three teams hunting Bart have come up empty so far. Zack’s in your office with the woman who was with Bart. He’s working on finding out who she is and seeing if he can learn anything about Bart from her.”

Graham nodded his approval. “Tell me what you think of all of this.”

“Besides the fact that my heart’s still pounding that Bart was not only close, but right here in this room?” Milo looked around, making sure Bart hadn’t found a new way to hide under the coffee table or something.

“Yes, close, but more than that.”

“Like how’d he get in here? His woman friend out there could invite him, but someone somewhere else helped by creating the fire so we couldn’t smell him. We still should have known he was this close.”

“So who helped him?”

“I don’t know.” Milo pinched the bridge of his nose. “The idea of anyone here betraying you is hard to even comprehend.”

“How so?”

Milo looked from Jane to Mr. M. “I know every employee here. I think I would know if one of them betrayed us.”

“I see your point.” It was Graham’s turn to look into the bedroom. “But if Bart managed to get to one of them, he could control him or her. Let’s not forget he got to Lara Hatch.”

“You think Jane is helping Bart?” It was an inconceivable idea. To even think that Mr. M. would consider Jane might be helping Bart… Fuck, no.

“At first, I thought it could be possible. It was, after all, quite a coincidence that Jane showed up the same day Bart did. But twice now, she has saved my wife from Bart while placing herself in grave danger. I doubt she’d do that if she was on the in with him. But at the same time, I can’t help but wonder—Jane has the ability to make my wife invisible, which is an extremely powerful ability. At the same time, Bart figured out a way to make himself invisible to us and managed to get in here.”

“Perhaps he learned from her when he touched her in the bookstore,” Milo suggested.

“I suppose that’s possible.”

“Jane’s not the first one you thought of, though, is she?”

Graham shook his head. “I thought perhaps it was August.”

Milo blinked once, twice before he could form a complete sentence. “August? Of all my men, August has to be one of the most loyal.”

“I see that now, after he took three bullets to save my wife. But can you deny that he’s been preoccupied lately?”

“No, sir, but…”

“But what?”

“I don’t know what he has on his mind, but I doubt it’s anything to betray you.” Milo could probe August’s mind, know his every thought, as he could with everyone on Mr. M.’s security detail. But it would be a breach of trust, and he’d be breaking the biggest unspoken rule. He wouldn’t do it, and he knew Mr. M. wouldn’t ask him to.

Graham met his gaze. “I want you to keep an eye on every man under your command. Tell no one of this conversation. And report anything out of the ordinary directly to me.”

He’d never done his job any other way.
“Yes, sir. And Mr. M.? About taking Jane somewhere safe—”

“I’m not taking her anywhere.”

That’s right.
But Milo still felt relieved. ”I know, sir. It’s what I wanted to tell you. No matter how much I want her safe, I can’t let her be away from me, even if I feel she might not be safe with me.”

“Have you hurt her?”

It was a long moment before Milo could reply. He’d taken her without her permission—not against her will, but still… He’d drunk her blood, also without her permission. Never mind that he did it to save her life and take control from Bart. He’d liked it. He almost hadn’t been able to stop.

But had he injured her? The thought of being away from her was more painful than anything he’d yet inflicted on her. “No.”

“I didn’t think so. Besides, if Bart wanted to harm either Ella or Jane, he’s had ample opportunity to do so in the last hour, and he didn’t. I think he’s trying to scare us into moving the ladies to some other place where we’d think they were safer. It would divide us, weaken us. Perhaps he’s not as strong as he’s leading us to believe.” Mr. M. shook his head. “Everyone is staying here.”

“All right.”

“And if Bart tries to get in again, I’m going to let him.”

Milo looked through the bedroom doorway and met Jane’s gaze. Now more than his back hurt. Pain moved down his legs like boiled oil. “You can’t be serious.”

“I’m serious as smallpox. I’m tired of him pulling the strings. It’s time to see how strong he is and beat him at his own game.”

Milo rubbed his hands over his eyes for a long moment and drew in one deep breath after another. “Mr. M., I have a confession.”

“Confession?” Graham said the word as if he’d never spoken it before and needed to try it out.

“Bart came here, and something happened.”

Graham blinked at him several times before he spoke. Then he glanced around the room at the broken glass and bloodstained carpet. “I can see that, Milo. I tripped over my own wife on the floor in the midst of it.”

“I thought all this time—after everything Bart’s done—that I could kill him, actually rip him to pieces. But when I saw him with his hands on Jane, I couldn’t move. I couldn’t even breathe, much less fight him or kill him. I froze, sir, until I thought he was about to bite Jane. I failed you. Then when I was able to move, I turned my back on an enemy and allowed myself to get shot. So I failed twice.”

Graham looked at him with a hard gaze. “And since I was kneeling, checking out my wife, and took my sight off the woman with the gun, I failed you as well.”

Milo stared at him, finding it difficult that Graham would confess to such a failure. “Sir?”

“A lot happened in a few seconds, Milo, all inconceivable things. Now that we know what Bart can do, we’ll make sure it never happens again. And when we find the mole who helped him, he’ll wish he’d never been born.”

Milo looked at Jane, fighting the longing in his heart. He’d lost blood, and nausea now rolled in with the pain that coursed through him. He yearned to curl up beside Jane and sleep, to rest and heal while he shared a dream or two with her. Even in his weakened state, though, he could still do his job. “I’ll get on it right away.”

“No, you won’t.”

“Sir?”

“Take Jane down to your room. You’re no good to me or anyone else if you’re not in tip-top shape. It’s been a long night, and it’s not even midnight yet. And right now, after being shot and losing so much blood…” He glanced at the blood that still stained his carpet. “Go get some rest. Both of you.”

Milo hesitated, then called out to Jane. “Jane?”

Jane came out of the bedroom. Milo took her hand.

“And I’d encourage you to get some nourishment too,” Graham added.

Nourishment for Milo meant blood. Jane’s. But he was terrified to take from her. What if he couldn’t stop?

“That’s an order, Milo.” Then Graham turned away and pulled out his phone. “Jacob, how are things in the lobby? Great. How soon can we get someone up to clean the carpet?”