Make Mine a Marine (50 page)

The call of a bear.

He tried to answer, but the mists swallowed his voice.

He felt the broad, hard pads of the bear's paws on his chest, bearing down with a heavy weight. He felt its long claws digging into his skin.

The bear's golden brown fur danced through-his vision. It bellowed again, closer this time, calling to him. He felt its warm breath on his face.

He tried to breathe in its reviving warmth, but the pressure on his chest vanished. He reached out, finding nothing but mist and darkness in his grasp, and he began to sink.

"No." He reached for the bear again, calling to it, willing its great power to guide him back home.

But other hands reached for him now The king's hands. Warriors' hands. Pulling him down to them. Trapping his soul in the murky pit of mist and darkness.

A blinding light exploded around him, inside him. A circlet of gold inlaid with precious jewels swam before his eyes.

"Take it!" someone shouted. His ears unstopped. His vision spun in a dizzying eddy. "Give him back to me!"

The claws snatched at him again, digging into his chest, tossing aside his armor.

"You've had your true love." The voice was a woman's, faintly familiar. "Give me mine. I love him. Give him back!"

Something pressed against his mouth. Soft. Hard. Urgent. Breathing life into his body. Giving him strength.

The pressure eased. "Hawk, I love you. Don't let him win. Fight him. Come back to me."

Something brushed across his face, across his shoulders, down his arms. He felt the pressure at his mouth again, felt hot, moist pinpricks dotting his cheeks. An odd warmth swelled inside him and radiated through his limbs.

The faces of his father and Jonathan and Meczaquatl shimmered across his vision. Ten clutching talons dug into his flesh, and the circle of light shrank

"No! He must stay!" Meczaquatl shook his staff.  But even now his image grew faint. The swirling mists picked up speed, swallowing up the image of his father.

A dark-haired beauty he did not recognize came into focus.

Jonathan vanished.

"Wait…" Hawk called weakly, but his friend did not return.

The pressure at his mouth distracted him again. He tilted his head, seeking its source, and a warmth pressed the underside of his jaw. He curled his fingers into fists and savored the rush of blood pumping into his hands. Blindly he reached out, needing an anchor to hold on to. His fingers brushed against soft brown fur. He dug in and held on, turning his mouth to the hot, beckoning warmth that had grazed his chin.

"No!" Meczaquatl’s icy grip clutched Hawk's shoulder and he fell back, his breath frozen in his chest. "He must stay. I need him!"

"
I
need him!" A tawny gaze whispered into his mind. The Kodiak's eyes. No. Something much more precious.

"Husband, come to me." The dark-eyed princess spoke. Meczaquatl released him. Hawk collapsed. His eyes drifted shut and he plunged into the pit.

But something halted his fall. His shoulders jerked in their sockets. Something hard and rough rasped along his back.

"Damn you, Virgil Echohawk! Don't you leave me!" a woman's voice, soft and husky, cried in his ear.

Virgil.

The name stabbed through his foggy subconscious.

Meczaquatl touched the woman in Hawk's vision. Gold sparkled in-her raven hair. The gold circlet. Prini's crown.

"My queen," spoke the king, every trace of the vengeful despot fading into awed disbelief.

"We are together now, my husband. Come rest beside me."

Hawk wanted to laugh but found no breath in his lungs. The damn king was out of control because they'd kept him from his woman?

His woman.

"Virgil!"

The mists vanished along with the haunting jungle ghosts, leaving Hawk suspended in a weightless, freezing darkness.

He reached out, seeking the Kodiak. The she-bear. No. Seeking the woman.

What Hawk saw and what he thought got jumbled up inside his mind. He had to find the way out before he was caught here forever. He had to find the path back to the living world. But he was so lost, so turned around. The man who'd earned his living blazing trails and helping others discover their path couldn't find his own way home.

"Save me,” he begged. “Save me.”

The darkness swallowed him up, and Hawk's vision went black.

His body jerked. He sucked in a breath. His lungs ached as if expanding for the first time in eons.

He crashed down hard and felt his body slipping.

Something warm and wet splashed on his face. And then he was falling.

"No!" he screamed, tucking himself into a ball to help his body absorb the jolts and jerks of his descent. He slammed to a stop against something soft.

"No." He clutched at the soft form beneath his body, holding tight and anchoring himself to its pervading warmth. "Save me."

"I'm here, Virgil." The same voice that had called to him in his vision whispered in his ear. He latched on to the sound and tried to follow it. "He's gone and you're here with me."

Then he felt kisses on his face and the tender ministrations of eloquent hands on his body. Real hands. Flesh-and-blood hands.

Touching him.

Healing him.

Making him feel alive again.

"Save me," he said softly. He moved his own hands, discovering the shape of the creature—the woman—he held, the imprint of some distant paradise waking a memory that would never die.

He clung to her warmth like a dying spirit seeks the light. While the rain poured over them, he undressed her with urgent need. He bared her body to the clouds and the night, then covered her with himself. He needed her under him, around him, with him. He needed her affirmation of life after spinning too close to death himself.

He knew her at the last moment, too late for caution, too late for gentle words.

He dug his fingers into the solid reassurance of muddy earth on either side of her head and levered himself above her. He saw her tears and the beckoning welcome of her shy smile. Then he buried himself inside her loving, healing warmth.

"Save me, schoolmarm." He swept her into his arms and took what she offered, needing her, using her in a way for which he could never forgive himself, and loving her more than he ever dreamed possible. "Save me."

Chapter Fourteen

"Rafe, quit flirtin' with my little girl."

The deep bass voice rumbled through the corridor of Kansas City's St. Luke's Hospital.

Hawk was only marginally aware of the man making faces and little cooing noises beside him. He looked through the glass of the hospital nursery at the same pink-hatted infant Rafe did, but his thoughts were more than a hundred miles away in Marysville, Kansas.

He scarcely noticed when Brodie Maxwell clapped his hand on Rafe's shoulder, pushed him aside, and took his proud place at the window. The big man blew a kiss and whispered in a falsetto voice, "Daddy's here. You can't see men like Rafe until you're forty-two years old."

Rafe defended himself with a smile. "I don't know, Brodie, with those big, beautiful eyes, Katie's pretty hard to resist."

Hawk thought of beautiful green-gold eyes, an unmistakable color that had first drawn his attention to Sarah McCormick.

"You won't get any argument from me," said Brodie. He nudged Hawk in the arm, forcing him to bring his attention back to the baby. "She's a beauty, isn't she?"

Hawk ignored the painful longing that ached in his gut and focused on the legitimate happiness he felt for his old friend. "It's a good thing she takes after BJ, and not you."

The three men laughed, and for a few brief moments Hawk let himself enjoy the relaxed familiarity among friends.

"Don't tell me one little girl who's not even a day old can turn seasoned soldiers like yourselves into a bunch of marshmallows." Kel Murphy limped up to the nursery, shrugged off the teasing comebacks from Rafe and Brodie, then proceeded to wave at Katherine Claire Maxwell through the window.

Hawk's heart skipped a beat, wondering what news Kel had brought with him. But he could sense the mournful calm that settled over the four of them. Even Rafe grew subdued at the reflection of four seasoned warriors, gone their separate ways, but reunited in times of trouble and times of joy. Only, their team wasn't complete. It would never be complete until they were joined by their missing leader.

"I saw him." Hawk finally broke the reverent silence. "On the other side, I saw Jonathan's spirit. He gave me an order."

"That sounds about right," said Rafe.

"Yeah." Hawk tried to smile at the shared memory of their commander, but couldn't quite make it happen. "He said to take care of his girls."

"Emma and Kerry are just fine." Brodie reassured him about Jonathan's wife and daughter. "They're with BJ now in the visitation room if you want to check on them."

"Maybe I should." Hawk pulled back from the window.

Kel shoved his hands deep into his pockets and shrugged his shoulders. "You've got other problems to think about right now."

"What do you mean?" Hawk's radar clicked into alert mode. "You got Sarah and the girls back to Marysville, didn't you?"

"The flight was fine. They got into town last night, no problem," Kel reassured him. "But I think she wanted some different company on that plane."

"She doesn't need me," Hawk asserted, feeling the resolution in his bones that Sarah was better off without him. "Not after what I did to her."

He turned and found Rafe and Brodie standing directly behind him. Backing him up? Or creating a blockade to keep him from running?

Rafe frowned. "She's crazy about you."

"Do you know the town is setting up a hearing as to whether to keep her on as a teacher or not? Word is she may even get her teaching certificate revoked for endangering those teenagers." Kel spoke again, and Hawk felt buffeted from all sides, not unlike his time in the pits of hell, or wherever Meczaquatl had taken him.

He whirled around. "She didn't do anything wrong."

"Don't tell me." Kel's dry voice cut through all of Hawk's good intentions. "If you think she can handle it on her own, fine."

"She can handle anything." Hawk's need to defend Sarah against any slight thundered through his veins, touched on his temper and nicked at his conscience.

"If you say so." Kel dismissed the issue with a shrug of his shoulders. He tilted his head to look around him at Rafe. "Hey, loverboy, why don't I give you a ride to the airport?"

"Sure." Rafe shook hands with Brodie and smiled. "Listen, if you ever need a babysitter, call me. You know I'm the best."

"You live three hours away," reminded Brodie.

"So I'm flexible." Rafe spread his arms wide to emphasize his point. "Take care, buddy. My best to BJ."

"Brodie." Kel shook hands, too. "Katie has a good man for a father."

"Thanks," said Brodie. Hawk felt their focus shift toward him. "And thanks for stepping in to help."

"No problem. It's nice to feel useful every now and then."

Hawk took Kel's hand and traded a curt goodbye. Rafe held on to his hand a moment longer. "Don't leave her hanging, Hawk."

When Kel and Rafe left, Hawk closed his eyes and breathed in deeply through his nose and out through his mouth, trying to regain control of his peaceful center. He'd done Sarah a terrible injustice. He'd failed her, just as he'd feared—just as he'd known—he would.

Brodie's broad hand on his shoulder pulled him from his thoughts. "So what are you doing here when your heart's somewhere else?"

"She doesn't need me." Hawk repeated aloud the mantra that had played through his head since climbing on the plane that had carried him out of Tenebrosa. "I can only hurt her."

"I know you. You'd never hurt somebody you love."

Love? The word struck him in the heart like a cruel curse. Hawk faced Brodie. He wanted his friend to understand, and he himself needed to hear again why he had to let Sarah go.

"I used her, Brodie. She opened up her heart and I took…"  He choked on his own self-loathing. "I took what she offered and gave nothing back. I didn't listen to what she felt. I didn't pay attention to her needs."

“You were coming out of a trance then, weren't you? Like one of your vision quests? Would she hold you responsible for your actions?"

"She had a fiancé once who treated her the same way. He used her for his own selfish purposes, and it wounded her. He robbed her of every shred of confidence she had in herself." He shook his head at the tragedy he'd seen in Sarah's spirit when they first met. The mother bear's ripped-out heart turned out to be Sarah's shattered self-image.

His pain turned into a begrudging smile as he thought of the amazing strength he'd discovered in her, shaky at times, but never defeated. "I was no different. I used her all along. I used her gentle touches and beautiful eyes and incredible courage to heal
me
. In the end I destroyed any good I might have done her. No, she doesn't need me."

"Did you ask her?" Brodie played devil's advocate. Hawk hated him for it. His will was already weak enough. "One thing I've learned from loving BJ is that you've got to speak what you feel. Give her credit for knowing her own heart. And knowing what she can and can't handle. She may surprise you."

"Even if she forgives me, it wouldn't matter." Hawk squeezed the railing in front of the window, looking at the perfect, normal little babies on the other side, damning his powers for damning him. "I'm a Shadow Man. I'm weird. Different. A lady like her shouldn't have to deal with a creature like me."

Brodie crossed his massive arms in front of him. "From what Rafe and Kel said, it sounds to me like she handled you pretty well."

"She shouldn't have to." Hawk imagined that delicate slip of sensual femininity dwarfed by his friend's stature. "She's fragile, Brodie. I've put her through enough already."

"Hell, Hawk. She survived a week on Tenebrosa with you. She followed you to the land of the dead and brought you back. Just how tough do you want the lady to be?"

Brodie's fighting words sank in, and Hawk finally realized the delusion his guilt had created. Had he been just as quick as Kensit to judge Sarah's limitations? To deem his Sarah fragile?

Feminine? Yes. Shy? Working on it. Delicate? In the most incredibly sexy way.

But fragile?

His she-bear?

"Besides—" Brodie interrupted his thoughts, not knowing Hawk had already made up his mind to ask Sarah to forgive him, to accept him, to take him as he was, shaman and all—"if she's in trouble, you owe her."

Hawk slipped into the back of the Marysville High School auditorium, the overwhelming sense of déjà vu blending with a mixture of anticipation and dread. It hadn't taken long for the lynch mob to form. As they had at that fateful town meeting so many weeks ago, the lines were drawn, with the people in the audience debating the issue as vigorously as their elected officials.

He spotted Sarah at once, sitting at a table up front, facing the mayor, superintendent and town council, who sat on an elevated platform above her. He slid his gaze over her, noted the coppery wisps of doubt in her aura, but took heart in the brave blue courage he saw surrounding her.

"This is a kangaroo court, Walter," he heard her say. "If the parents don't hold me liable, why should you?"

"It's a question of decency, Sarah." Hawk thought of his twelve-inch survival knife, locked in the toolbox of his pickup. He rubbed his palms together, quelling the urge to carve Kensit up into tiny pieces in the midst of these uncivilized proceedings. "Up until this incident, your reputation has been impeccable. But to hear that you've engaged in such reckless, inappropriate behavior makes me wonder if you're still competent enough to teach our children."

"Reckless?" Sarah challenged him, rising to her feet. Kensit leaned back in his chair. "Mr. Echohawk and I righted a wrong that has been plaguing Las Lagumas and other historical sites for centuries. We saved lives. I call that being responsible, not reckless."

Her shoulders stiffened like steel, and Hawk smiled, knowing Kensit had no chance to win this argument now.

"Inappropriate?” she continued.  “The only thing inappropriate down there was Luis Salazar and his band of criminals. His nephew was cleared of any charges by the state. Even they recognize an evil man taking advantage of a good program. Would you like to see my citation from the governor of Tenebrosa?"

A tall, reedy, white-haired woman stood up in the audience. Hawk had never hit a lady, but if Mrs. String Bean said one word against Sarah… "Think of the publicity for our school system. We have an international hero on our staff."

Mrs. Plumpy stood up beside her. "Could we put that citation on display in the school trophy case?"

Hawk was in the midst of revising his opinion of the town's busybodies when five familiar figures stood up in unison from the front row. They circled their beloved Sarah, standing as straight and poised as their favorite role model.

Denise addressed the council in a loud, clear voice. "We're here today because of Miss Mack. We learned a lot on our trip. Not just about history and geography, but about us, and what we can accomplish if we believe in ourselves. She taught us that we can be more than who we think we are."

The room hushed and Denise continued. "Our schools are facing enough trouble with over-crowding and violence and budget cuts. Don't take away our best teachers, too."

Kensit's aura glowed with frustration. He shot his fingers through his hair, mussing its moussed perfection. "Young lady, you're missing the point—"

"
You're
missing the point, Walter." The mayor frowned and pounded his gavel on the table. "I'm dismissing these ridiculous charges." The superintendent nodded his approval. "Thank you for teaching all three of my kids, Sarah. We're glad to have you back. Now all of you, go home."

Hawk rose to his feet with the rest of the crowd. Twenty-four endless hours had passed since Brodie Maxwell had knocked some down-to-earth sense into his unearthly brain. He had made the drive home in record time, but had stopped to clean up and grab a minimum amount of sleep so he could face Sarah like a civilized gentleman, and not the jungle predator he'd turned himself into the past week.

But now that she was so close, she seemed that much farther away. Swimming upstream against the crowd of people filing toward the door, Hawk had to stop repeatedly to accept congratulations from people who'd never spoken to him before, or to answer questions about taking on new clients and expanding his practice.

Welcome. Acceptance. Hawk read the sincerity of the people who spoke to him, thanked the Great Spirit for it, then secretly applauded Sarah for her role in his newfound inclusion into Marysville.

Over the heads of well-wishers, Hawk saw the throng of townsfolk pressing toward Sarah to congratulate her. He worried what effect the stress of meeting all these people might have on her. But then he relaxed. Shyness might make all this attention a little daunting, but she wasn't one to back down from a challenge.

"Hawk!" A high, excited chorus of voices snagged his attention, and he was engulfed in a flurry of hugs from five of his favorite young ladies.

"We wondered when you'd get here," said Lyndsay. "Miss Mack was pretty down on the way home."

"But that plane was so sweet." Lynnette bubbled with excitement. "Mr. Murphy had a butler who served us pop and Twinkies. Do you know he writes books? Mr. Murphy, not the butler. He told me to write about Tenebrosa and send it to him to read. Isn't that awesome?"