Right Through Me (The Obsidian Files #1) (32 page)

She followed him out the door, stopping short when she saw the bodies. The one by the door lay in the dirt, face turned to the side, mouth gaping. Buzzcut swayed from his tree, his rope creaking in the rising wind. She gazed at them without flinching, her face pale and stiff.

“There’s another one behind their Jeep,” he told her.

Noah dug car keys out of his jacket pocket, vaguely surprised they were still there. He pulled out his phone, and immediately called Sisko.

“Hey,” Sisko’s usually mellow voice had an edge to it. “So?”

“You can turn around,” he said. “Go on home. It’s handled.”

He could hear Sisko sigh. “Ah. OK. How many did you have to take down?”

“There were only four. Mark wasn’t there yet. He’s on his way. I left him a note. Pointed him to a chatroom. We’ll talk with him soon.”

“Only four, huh?” Sisko grunted. “You’re getting soft. You need challenge.”

Noah glanced at Caro. “I have enough.”

“By the way,” Sisko said. “Don’t go home. It’s compromised. Use the Kirkland house. Someone found you. I swung by to pick up your guns, and the place was trashed.”

“Oh. Yeah,” Noah said. “About that. That wasn’t, uh, Mark.”

Sisko was silent for a moment, bewildered “Holy shit.
You
did that? To your own property? What the fuck? What happened? Did you have a combat program freakout? But you were the one who taught us to beat those! You wrote the book!”

Noah was too exhausted to tell him to shut the fuck up. “It ran me over.”

“Do we need to do any clean-up?” Sisko asked. “Body bagging? Floor bleaching? Anything?”

“No, don’t get near it. I don’t know when Mark is coming.”

“OK,” Sisko said. “We’ll meet you in Kirkland. Later.”

Sisko hung up before Noah had a chance to tell the guy that he didn’t need a welcoming committee. He looked into Caro’s set face and bluish lips, and lifted her up into his arms. “I know you have a thing about this,” he said. “But you need make an exception to your rule today.”

She wrapped an arm around his shoulder. “I can walk,” she told him. “I’m fine.”

“You’re barefoot,” he said. “It’ll take us five times as long to get to the car through those woods if you walk. We need to move fast.”

“But aren’t you tired?”

“It’s what I’m made for,” he said. “It’s easy to carry you.”

She sighed, and shifted in his arms, arranging herself more comfortably. “Whatever. Put me down if you get tired. Please.”

Not likely. It took a while to bushwhack through the gullies and the thicker undergrowth, but he ate up the clear ground in a swift, easy lope on his way back to the clearing where he’d hidden the Mercedes. He opened the back seat, nudging her inside, and got in after her.

He sagged against the car seat. Smelling blood, the trees, his own sweat. Hearing only wind, and the rustling trees, and the loud galloping thuds of their heartbeats.

Caro put her hand on his, looking down when she felt the rough, torn skin and dried blood on his knuckles. “Noah.” She sounded exhausted.

“Yeah,” he said, taking her hand in his. “It was bad. But now it’s over.”

They sat for a moment, staring mutely down at the blood caked on their clasped hands.
But she wasn’t done. She looked up, wide green eyes meeting his.

“Why did you come for me?” she asked. “After what I did.”

He was at a loss for a long moment. The part of him that could process a question like that was not working right now. AVP and his combat program and all his many mods could not help him with complicated shit like this.

“I don’t know,” he said. “I just did it. Without thinking. I had to.”

“You didn’t have to,” she said. “You had the footage already. You had all that you needed from me.”

He shook his head. “No,” he said. “Not all.”

Her gaze dropped, but she looked up at him again after a minute. “I still can’t believe you did that for me.”

There was an awkward pause. He shrugged. “The AVP is fucking my impulse control,” he said. “I no longer give a shit if what I want is bad for me.”

“But I’m not . . .”
Her words trailed off, and her eyes flicked away, abashed.

He squeezed her hand. He’d been so angry at her before, but the fighting and killing burned all that away. He felt empty and hollow now.

“Well, you were crazy, to do that,” she said, her voice muted. “But I’m glad.”

He nodded, hoping she was done. No such luck.

“Mark’s going to be all over your ass now,” she said. “You know that, right?”

“Good,” he said. “Bring him on. I cannot fucking
wait
to deal with him.”

She looked startled. “Seriously?”

“Fuck, yeah. He has Luke. He hurt you. It’s war, and he is going down.”

He stared her down, his eyes full of challenge. His AVP sputtered along, the processor mostly burned out and needing rest and fuel to rev up again, but he could still see her sig a little bit.

That soft golden glow, filling up the car.

Like sunrise come early.

Chapter 23

It couldn’t be real. Being alive at all was improbable. Let alone having been rescued by a gorgeous, valiant, more or less superhuman guy.

But here she was. Bloody, exhausted, and amazingly, alive.

Caro smelled the salt tang of his battle sweat, stared at his scabbed, battered fingers on the steering wheel. He’d come to her rescue. Saved her from her worst nightmares. And the sun had come up.

Noah gave her a quick, assessing glance. His face was pale, cheek scraped and bruised, shadowy eyes still reddened from the pepper spray. A red stain soaked his gray, torn-open sweatshirt sleeve.

“Noah! What happened to your arm?”

He glanced at it. “I got stabbed.”

A modified man was still just a man, she thought. Pretending he wasn’t hurt to look tough. “What if you need stitches?”

Noah shook his head. “It won’t. It’s clotting. Rapid cell repair is built in. And I’m pretty much immune to most pathogens and toxins. Even radiation is no biggie.”

“Oh.” She shook her head. “I don’t want to watch you put that to the test.”

“I fucking hope not.” He started the car and maneuvered out over the bumpy terrain until he got onto the narrow road, handling the wheel stiffly and wincing as he shifted lightly in his seat. “Guns and knives are about all I can handle right now.”

She looked closely at the dark, wet stain, making sure it wasn’t spreading. “How did you find me?”

He stared straight out at the dirt road that wound through the trees. “Later for that.”

She reached across the console and laid her hand on his thigh. The denim was damp with sweat and stiff with blood, but her fingers gripped the steely bulge of his thigh muscles. “Noah,” she said. “We have to talk to each other. No more secrets.”

His mouth tightened. “You’ll be angry.”

She sighed. “Please. At this moment, you can do no wrong. Just tell me.”

“OK. If you insist. I geotagged you,” he admitted. “With the tile that fell off the painting you liked. I stuck it in your coat pocket in your apartment. After we made love.”

She stared at him, astonished.

“Look in your pockets.”

She did. Both of them. Finding a bus ticket, a laundromat token, a button that had been missing in action, a couple receipts, a pack of spearmint gum . . . and something small, square and hard. She held it up.

“So?” His voice was defensive. “Yes, I’m controlling. And obsessive. I can’t help it, so what the fuck? I knew you were in danger. I know what Mark is. What he could do to you. If you want to have a fight about this, go ahead.”

He looked like he was bracing himself.

Caro reached out, and stroked the side of his face with her fingertips. “No,” she said. “I don’t. I can’t believe what you just did for me. After I attacked you. And hurt your eyes. And stole your fucking car.”

“Oh, yeah. The car,” Noah muttered.

“It might still be there. I parked it in a tow zone on purpose.”

“Don’t make me laugh. I’m on the edge as it is.”

She traced the shape of his cheekbone, feeling the velvety heat of his skin and his harsh beard scruff. His mouth was set in a tense line.

“Noah,” she said. “I have something to say to you—”

He exhaled sharply. “Here we go. Here it comes.”

“No, don’t get nervous,” she soothed. “This is a compliment. You are a world class bullshit artist. If lying were an Olympic event you would win the gold.”

A wary grin flashed across his face. “Comes from growing up on the streets,” he said. “Thank you. I feel proud. Even though I should be ashamed.”

“Lying to that guy got us out alive. That’s what I’m talking about.”

He shrugged. “I was just blowing smoke.”

“Yes. At gunpoint. Tied up, no less.”

Noah looked at her sideways. “OK, so I’m really good at it. But what’s your point? Are you worried that I’ll lie to you?”

“You already have. I’m just thinking out loud.”

Noah groaned under his breath. “Go ahead. Beat me up.”

“No. Just saying that you’re a different person when you lie. You project a different frequency.”

He frowned. “Sounds like I’m ready for the psych ward.”

“Not at all.
And trust me, I’
d know.”

“You would, huh?”

“Yes,” she said. “I wouldn’t recognize the man talking to me.”

Noah braked suddenly, turning onto a narrow, half-hidden road overgrown by stubby evergreens that scraped against the sides of the car. Noah killed the engine.

They sat in silence. Noah looked away from her. It looked as if he were struggling to breathe.

Was that why he stopped? Caro undid her seatbelt and leaned towards him, trying gently to turn his face back toward her. He resisted, so she just kissed his cheekbone, his hair. Tasted salt, grit. Blood.

“Don’t do that,” he said harshly.

“It won’t kill you, Noah.”

“I’m not so sure about that.” He turned toward her, spread open her coat and pressed his face against her naked breasts. His breath was a hot caress against her bare skin. “Maybe not yet.”

She wrapped her arms around his neck and buried her nose in his sweat-stiffened hair.

“I want you,” he said.

They kissed, madly, passionately. No more talk. Just gasps, sighs.

He tasted like life itself. Heat and salt, fire and blood. She was starving for him. His hand cupped her tangled hair, and she clung to him, trying to get closer. Frantic need yawned, a fiery chasm that could swallow them. She caressed the hard contours of his body until she found the unyielding bulge of his cock, trapped in his jeans.

He growled low in his throat, and pushed her suddenly away. On her knees, half naked, ni
pples tight in the chilly dawn.
They panted, wildly aroused by the strange energy flaring between them.

“We need to cool it.” His voice was uneven.

“Please,” she whispered.

“No. Mark is on his way, and he wants to eat your brain. I shouldn’t have pulled off the road.”

She nodded, resigned, and put the seatbelt on.

Caro watched the landscape slide by, amazed at how calm she felt. All the horrible things she’d just seen were burned into her visual memory but for some reason they stayed under control, not taking over her visual field in hallucinations as they so often did when she was violently stressed.

Noah Gallagher, in all his glory, charging in to rescue her . . . that was an image more compelling than terror, blood and death.

The thought steadied her. She hung on to it.

* * *

Caro awoke from a restless half-sleep as the car slowed down and stopped.

They were parked outside a modern mansion on a wooded hillside. Simple but luxurious, with walls of glass on all sides, big decks and patios, and a long, winding driveway. One other car was parked there. A black van. “Where are we?” she asked.

“One of our safe houses,” Noah said.

It resembled his own place. Which made sense, she supposed.

Sisko and Zade sauntered out the front door just as she got out of the car. Looking worried, they both gave her and Noah a thorough onceover.

OK. She’d had better days, been better dressed. She pulled the shabby coat tighter, and held her head up as high as she could. Screw them both.

“Jesus, man. You look like shit,” Zade said to Noah. “Especially your eyes. What happened out there?”

“Long story,” Noah said wearily. “Not now.”

He took her hand and led her inside. “Make yourself at home,” he said.

The inside of this house was beautiful. Understated, oversized furniture that looked custom-made was highlighted by austere lamps that cast a rich glow over equally rich fabrics in soothing earth tones. Decorator coordinated, to be sure. Exactly what she would expect to see in a Noah Gallagher crash pad.

She heard Sisko and Zade come in as she wandered around the place, enjoying the silky smooth texture of the wide plank flooring under her bare dirty feet, the tastefully arranged furniture, the big, airy kitchen with top of the line appliances. Huge plate glass windows offered beautiful views of the surrounding greenery on all sides.

“I’m taking her up to the master bedroom to settle in,” Noah said to his men, who stood there looking awkward. “Zade, get that shit-eating grin off your face and call Hannah. Tell her Caro needs stuff. Clothes, whatever else she doesn’t have right now. And tell her to arrange for some food. Something really good, and a whole lot of it. We’re going to lie low for a while.”

“Excuse me?” Caro said. “You’re ordering
what
?”

“Clothes,” Noah repeated, as if the answer was obvious, gesturing toward her bloodstained jeans and coat.

“Hannah’s going to enjoy that,” Zade observed. “Unlimited shopping, with your credit card? A dream come true. Watch out.”

“For once in her life, her shopping mania will be good for something.” He looked at Sisko and Zade. “Sorry you guys didn’t get to see any action today, but things should get interesting soon. When Mark gets to town.”

“Ah, yeah. About that,” Zade said pointedly. “Can we talk?”

“Later,” Noah said. “Soon. Let me get her settled. Then we’ll talk.” He glanced at Sisko. “Keep monitoring the surveillance video feeds while I’m upstairs.”