Red Night ((Book 1) Timewalker Chronicles) (9 page)

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Authors: Michele Callahan

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BOOK: Red Night ((Book 1) Timewalker Chronicles)
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Sighing, she closed her eyes and snuggled close enough to rub her forehead against his cheek like a purring cat. Contentment made her limbs weak and her eyelids heavy. What she wouldn’t give to simply melt into him. Alexa never had been able to lie worth a damn. Especially to herself. She could pretend to be noble, pretend that she would try to save the world out of a sense of duty, honor, or moral fortitude. But in that moment, she admitted the truth to herself. Perhaps she’d wanted to save the world once. Now she was doing it for him. If that was a blight against her soul, so be it.

The song ended, but it took a moment for awareness to fight its way through the sensual haze of Luke’s embrace. He loosened his hold and she slipped out of his arms.

Luke’s thumb feathered over her cheek and he brushed a quick kiss over her lips. “In a few hours, I’ll make sure you look at me like that for the rest of the night.”

Quickly she looked away and hoped he wouldn’t notice the heat she felt coloring her cheeks or the shiver that ran up her spine. Just because he noticed her reaction to him didn’t mean he had to point it out. “What look?”

That damn smile again.

“Fine.” Nope. Couldn’t lie worth a damn. She leaned up on tiptoe and kissed him again because she had to. A quick, hard kiss that temporarily satisfied her new addiction to his taste. “Now, stop baby-sitting me and let me do my job.”

With a sly wink and a last lingering touch on her shoulder he walked away.

What kind of response was that? He had every intention of dogging her footsteps for the rest of the night. Obviously, he had a hell of a lot more faith in all the Colonel’s boys than she did. She needed air. And she needed a place where she could disappear again without drawing attention.

A quick search of the room confirmed what she already knew. It was either into the foyer to hide behind one of the archways, or back into the ladies room.

Darting in and out of view, a face caught her eye and the air froze in her chest.
Thank God.
She’d started to worry that the ringmaster wouldn’t show up to run his own circus. But there he was. She’d been waiting two hours for the bastard to show himself again. Now she just had to keep him in her sights. No time to hide. If someone saw her disappear, they’d just have to write it off to too much champagne.

Two days of constant practice made bending the light second nature to her now. She disappeared instantly and darted across the room, dodging those she could, bumping into those she couldn’t. The free flow of alcohol in the room was all the cover she was going to get. Judging by the dazed looks on the faces of the few she bumped into, it would be enough.

The service elevator doors were sliding closed when she caught up to him. She shoved her arm between the doors and gritted her teeth as the mechanical beasts bit into her arm, then slid back open. A huge, terrifying man with a shaved head, square jaw and a pockmarked face stood next to the panel. He was dressed all in black. His thick meaty hands looked like they could bend steel, or snap her in two. Pushing the button again he stared hard at his companion.

Great. She hadn’t counted on the big guy. He probably outweighed her by a hundred pounds. Hell. There’d be no second chances with him. But there was no going back.

Alexa flowed into the corner, silent as the fog. She tried not to move, or breathe, as the doors closed and the big machine started to fall. The weight of her gun on her ankle was strangely comforting. Assuming she had time to reach for it.

As soon as the elevator was moving, the Colonel reached down to adjust something on his belt and then pulled an earpiece out of his left ear. “You got him?”

“Yes, sir.” The big man’s deep voice resonated in the confined space and made her feel like the bones of her skull could rattle right off her neck. Without question, he was the most frightening man she’d ever seen. The bastard had to be six-five, if he was an inch.

“Good. Does he have the virus with him?” The Colonel’s left eyelid twitched a few inches from the big guy’s shoulder.

“Yes, sir.” Alexa wanted to cry with relief.

“No one else saw him?”

“No, sir. Caught him on the north service elevator.”

Some of the starch seemed to leave the Colonel’s shorts. Shoulders slumped in weariness beneath his tuxedo jacket, he ran a hand through his short gray hair with obvious relief. “I won’t forget this, Patrick.”

“I’m counting on it, sir.” The Colonel reached into his jacket pocket and withdrew a heavy envelope. Alexa assumed it was full of cash. The envelope disappeared from view in the giant’s hands. He handed the Colonel a small key in return.

Hah! Her instincts about the Colonel were right. They had him! They had the virus! All she had to do was follow them straight to Matthew Kline and finish it. This was it. The end of the road. Her attention darted between the Colonel’s aging face, lined with resignation, and the mammoth size body of the brute in black next to him.

She sent a silent prayer to the Lord thanking Him for the invention of gunpowder and bullets that evened her odds against the big brute, and to ask for a wee little bit of help. This was going to be one wild ride.

* * * * *

Luke felt her leave. The muscles in his back and neck clenched so tightly he thought they would explode. Damn her. Where the hell was she going?

To save the world.

“Shit.” Hurrying to the elevators, he counted the seconds until the yawning entrance beckoned him to follow her. He darted in and pushed every single damn button on the panel. Twenty floors. There’d be no way to know which floor she was on until the door opened. Grateful for the link between them burned into his chest, he couldn’t help wishing the old man had fine-tuned the damn thing a little better. All he could feel was her drifting farther away. His gut told him she was in over her head. Didn’t need to be a rocket scientist to figure that one out.

He pulled his handgun from his ankle holster, made sure a bullet was in the chamber, and let the quiet dip of the elevator beneath his feet calm him. His little lady acted like she was indestructible. She was going to save the world. All right. Fine. He was going to help her whether she like it or not. Damn stubborn woman. The grudging respect he felt for her courage didn’t ease the painful grip of the giant fist squeezing the hell out of his heart.

First stop. Twentieth floor. The doors slid silently open and he waited for the flash of heat her presence would bring to his chest. Silence. Darkness. Cold.

Nothing.

The doors slid closed and he clenched his teeth. One down, nineteen to go. He willed the damn elevator to hurry. “Hang on, angel. I’m coming.”

Chapter Eight
 

The Colonel was breaking plenty of rules to protect Matthew Kline. He slinked through the dark hallways of the building like a snake with his private one-man army, while the rest of his team continued to search for Kline in ignorance. Taking out two men would be a hell of a lot easier than thirty, but history was working against her. This had all happened before. If Matthew Kline was trapped down here with daddy, how did the virus get to the party?

 

Something must go wrong with the Colonel’s plan. She had to figure out what before it happened again. Maybe she should just shoot them all the first chance she got, grab the case, and run like the devil was chasing her. Her blood chilled to cold jelly in her veins. She didn’t want to kill anyone. But she was afraid she wouldn’t have a choice. The Colonel wasn’t going to let her just waltz in there and bury a few bullets in his precious son.

The hair on her arms rose in alarm and a cold shiver raced over her skin like Death was introducing himself a little early. The Colonel was going to be a problem.

She followed the Colonel and Patrick as quickly as her soft leather slippers allowed. The floor was full of deserted offices. A few scattered lights provided minimal illumination, which suited her just fine. Less light meant she’d need less energy to control it. The shadows were on her side.

“Who’s he?” Anger laced the Colonel’s words when he saw another man in black standing guard in front of a closed office door. He was smaller than Patrick, dark skin and hair. Thin, wiry frame and face. Utter and absolute blankness stared out from behind his dark eyes. No conscience. No soul. Even more terrifying than Patrick. The devil incarnate handed the Colonel a set of keys, but didn’t deign to answer.

“He’s with me.” Alexa figured Patrick wasn’t willing to argue about it. The Colonel must have thought the same. Hell. Three of them now. Plus Kline. Luck wasn’t playing fair.

“Wait by the elevators and make sure none of my boys spot you.”

“Yes, sir.”

Alexa held her breath as Brute and Brute Jr. passed within two feet of her and kept walking around the corner. The scary men in black were gone. Well, gone enough. She could find the stairs. Luck was playing nice after all.

The Colonel stood alone in the hallway, his head slumped, his entire focus on the keys jingling in his hand. He looked sad. Tired. Worn to the bone by life.

If he hadn’t been a schemer and a liar, if he hadn’t been responsible for the annihilation of an entire planet, she might have felt sorry for him. Instead, she reached for her gun with her right hand and one of her knives with her left. She’d try to avoid killing them. The only thing she needed was the little silver case. The Colonel and his personal problems wouldn’t kill the world. But a mere fifty feet stood between her and a life of happily-ever-after with Luke. She’d be damned if she’d get this close and fail.

The Colonel opened the door and walked into the room, and out of sight. Sprinting for the large door, which was slowly swinging closed, she managed to wedge it open a couple of inches with her foot. She should be able to slide into the room unnoticed. Unless the latch clicked when the door closed. Then she would have a problem.

Shimmying sideways through as small an opening as possible she let the door slide home behind her.

Matthew Kline sat, both wrists handcuffed to his sides in a large leather-backed chair. His jeans and T-shirt were wrinkled and stained. Long brown hair hung, greasy and limp, to his shoulders. Hazel eyes spit hatred at the old man slumped in the chair across from him. And there, in the center of an otherwise bare desktop, sat the silver case.

“What am I going to do with you, boy?”

Matthew struggled in vain against the handcuffs. “Let me go.”

“Do you know how much trouble you’ve caused? This isn’t like picking pockets or stealing cars! You’re carrying around deadly pathogens that were stolen from a Four Lab.” The Colonel leaned forward, his elbows resting on his knees. “Killing Trent was stupid, son. Taking the virus was worse. Every senator on committee is breathing fire down my neck. Those boys don’t screw around. I don’t think I can protect you this time.”

“Go to hell. I never asked for your help. Just leave me the fuck alone.”

“What are you doing here? How the hell did you get near Trent?”

Insanity blazed like deadly laser beams from Matthew’s eyes. Alexa was glad he couldn’t see her. “Everyone has a price.”

‘Damn it, Matt.”

“You can’t lock people up, play God with their lives. You think you’re so much better than me.” The handcuffs jerked and strained as Matthew renewed his struggle against the arms of the chair. “The whole fucking world wants to lock me away and forget I exist.”

“How’d you get out? Why wasn’t I notified?” An evil sneer crossed Matthew’s face in response. Alexa inched closer to the desk, the bug. This kid was nuts.

“Mom signed me out.”

“That bitch.” Alexa barely heard the whispered curse, but Matthew shifted forward and threw his weight onto his feet. The chair, still strapped to him, rose off the floor until the chair legs stuck out. He stood like a man who bore the weight of the world on his back, and was losing his footing. Spittle sprayed the desktop with every hoarse word Matthew shouted.

“You’d leave me locked in that fucking hospital forever. Mom never should’ve married you. You’re not my father!”

The Colonel’s shaking hand wrapped around the raised black handle of the silver case. “Not anymore.”

Screaming his rage, Matthew bent forward until he lifted the chair legs above desk level. He swung his whole body around to strike his father with the base. A black wheel struck the Colonel’s hand and the silver case flew. It skidded to a stop on the floor against the far wall of the office with a thunk. The wall farthest from Alexa.

The Colonel raged around the corner of the desk to stop his son. His shoulder slammed into her head. She staggered back in a daze. It hurt like hell.

“What the…”

Alexa darted out from beneath his arms just as Matthew swung around in another manic circle, striking out at his father with the chair. He missed. The Colonel was almost on him. Matthew rammed head first, straight into the Colonel’s chest and toppled him to the ground.

Dropping her dagger, she wrapped her hand around the small case handle like a drowning woman holding onto a lifejacket. Time to leave this wonderful family love fest behind.

She ran for the door and pulled it open. Patrick blocked her exit. The noise must’ve alerted him. Without a word Patrick shoved her out of his way and barreled into the room. He yanked Matthew, chair and all, off his father. The Colonel thanked him as she ran for the elevators. Then, “Where’s the case?”

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