The Lost (32 page)

Laughing harshly, Christopher said, “Because Maya has no heart. Now go. There is work to be done.”

With another, less rigid salute, Ryan walked away, and as Christopher looked at his friend’s retreating back, he had only one hope: that his men would find the Quinchu
before his father’s minions did. He could not let his father control such power.

Their bodies were a tangle of limbs. Legs interlaced. Heads pillowed on each other’s arms. Fingers twined together and trapped between them, close to their hearts.

“I don’t want to move,” Bobbie said, contentment deep in her bones.

“Then don’t,” Adam said, and grazed her forehead with a kiss.

“I’d love to, only nature calls,” she teased, and with a quick surge upward to drop a kiss on his lips, she slipped from the bed.

Adam appreciated the fine form of her naked backside as she went out the door. Sitting up in bed, he rearranged the pillows behind him, laced his fingers together, and rested his head against them. His gaze was trained on the door as he anxiously awaited her return.

The sounds of her activity drifted to him. Running water. Bare feet padding along the hardwood floor, but moving away from the bedroom.

The clink and clatter of plates and glasses alerted him that she was in the kitchen, which was probably a good idea, considering they had been in bed for hours, alternately dozing and making love, and lunch was way overdue.

When she returned she was carrying a small tray, tucking it tight to her midsection, hiding what she could from his view, although the rest of her was gloriously naked.

He couldn’t resist gazing at the beauty of her breasts with their deep coral nipples before dragging his gaze upward to her even more arresting face. Would he ever get
tired of seeing it? he wondered for only a second before the answer came swiftly and unequivocally.

No. He would never tire of her.

A flush erupted across her face and breasts at his perusal, dragging a smile to his lips. He patted the bed beside him. “Come here. I’ve missed you.”

With a wry smirk, she said, “I’ve only been gone five minutes.”

He patted the bed again. “Five minutes too long.”

She came over and was about to place the tray on his lap, but that wasn’t possible. The sight of her had aroused him, providing a less-than-flat area for the tray.

So instead she leaned over and placed it to one side, then climbed back into bed and straddled his legs, facing him, his erection tucked beneath her center making food the last thing on his mind.

Bobbie clearly had a different idea.

She reached over and grabbed a grape from a bunch sitting on a plate beside some cheese, a dried sausage of some kind, and slices of a crusty Italian bread.

She brought it to his lips and he opened his mouth. After popping it in, she took one for herself and ate it. “Sweet.”

Adam gazed at her breasts. “I can think of something far sweeter.”

The flush deepened and her hands fluttered over the food for a moment, but then she recovered and prepped him a slice of bread with some of the cheese and sausage. She brought it to his lips and he eyeballed the morsel for only a second before taking a bite, leaving her with a half that she popped into her own mouth.

“Tasty,” he said.

With a wicked grin, she shot a glance downward and
rubbed her hips along his. “I can think of something tastier.”

Heat erupted across his face and his aura flared brightly. His gut tightened and he almost choked on the bit of food she had fed him before swallowing it hastily.

“Need a drink?” She leaned over, grasped one of the short glasses on the tray, and handed it to him.

“Wine?” he wondered aloud before taking a sip of the merlot-colored liquid, only to discover it was red grape juice.

“Don’t drink all that much. Just in case I need the pain meds, although I don’t take them often,” she explained, growing uneasy and crossing her arms along her midsection.

He placed the glass back down on the tray, laid his hand at the crook of her neck, and leaned forward. Nuzzling his nose along hers, he whispered, “I can make it better.”

Bobbie brought her hands up between them, clasped his face in her hands. She gazed into his emerald eyes, darkening with emotion and devoid of the shadows that had haunted him earlier. “Just having you here makes it better, Adam.”

She kissed him then, leaving no doubt about what he meant to her.

He groaned and wrapped his arms around her waist, hauled her close to him, crushing her breasts to his chest with the tightness of his embrace. But as they held each other, emotions stronger than desire rose up.

Peace. Unity.

Adam whispered against the shell of her ear, “I wish we never had to move from here.”

She murmured her agreement, but they both recognized this special time together was fleeting. One call would change it all. One call to his parents.

His parents, he thought, unable to believe that after so much time all the wondering and hoping was over.

They had found him. He would no longer be alone, but with that immediately came another thought. From the moment he had met Bobbie he hadn’t been alone. Tightening his hold on her, he closed his eyes and let himself sink bonelessly into her embrace. He wanted to savor these moments before the world he knew nothing about intruded.

S
alvatore Bruno sat steaming in his car as he waited outside Bobbie’s condo. It wasn’t just the land breeze, hot and humid like a sirocco, making him warm. It was the fact that Adam was here with her. Had been here with her for most of the day. After everything they had shared, his son had chosen to trust a virtual stranger over him.

It shouldn’t hurt so much. Wouldn’t, if he had remembered his goal and not gone soft for so many years. Adam was just another assignment, he told himself. But the little voice inside his head screamed “Liar.”

He wondered what they had been doing up in her condo for so many hours, not that it took much wondering. Even with her injuries the Carrera woman turned heads.

He was thankful that the sun was beginning to set and a shift in the wind was creating a drop in heat and humidity. The sea breeze helped, but there was that smell in the air that said a storm approached.

Inside Bobbie’s condo a light snapped on, and Salvatore fixed his gaze on it, impatiently waiting for his son to emerge. He hoped that if he had just a little more time to chat with him, he could convince Adam that he was mistaken about all that had happened.

So Salvatore sat and waited, and then waited some more.

The storm that had been threatening came and went, refreshing the air and causing another drop in temperature. But it left behind scattered pockets of rain and lightning.

It was nearly midnight when Adam finally emerged from the building, but he wasn’t alone. Bobbie Carrera stood beside him, her fingers laced with Adam’s. The way she leaned toward him and then skimmed back a lock of his hair spoke volumes about their level of intimacy. The hungry kiss by Adam’s car confirmed it, as did the blue glow that surrounded them both, surprising Salvatore.

He had never seen Adam’s aura engulf anyone else before. It spoke of a bond far stronger than one based on just emotion.

After the kiss ended, he expected Adam to drive off, leaving Bobbie behind, but instead they both slipped into Adam’s Bentley. With a low rumble, the engine jumped to life, followed by the flare of the headlights.

Adam pulled out onto Ocean Avenue, and after a short wait to allow enough distance to disguise his presence, Salvatore started his car and turned onto the street, lights off to avoid immediate discovery.

Adam seemed in no rush, keeping a moderate pace past the homes and inns on Ocean Avenue. Instead of continuing down the beachfront road, he turned westward
and up to Main Avenue. Traveling south, he pushed the sports car a little faster through the stretches of mile-long beach towns and past the turnoff for his home in Spring Lake.

Salvatore narrowed his eyes, perplexed by where his son… No, not his son. That ruse was over. Adam was now just the first subject in the long overdue launch of the Genesis project. He could no longer let emotion interfere in what he had to do. In what he had planned for so many years.

Vigilant as he tried to guess where Adam might be headed, Salvatore followed carefully. The Bentley pushed past modest homes, which became a tangle of small businesses before the street reached the end of the town and the lake for which it was named. Barely a quarter mile later, Adam turned eastward toward the ocean in Sea Girt.

A hodgepodge of moderately sized homes developed into multimillion-dollar beach houses and the lovingly restored Beacon House Inn. Across from the inn sat the normally busy Parker House, almost quiet with the late hour as waiters tidied up.

Salvatore pulled over as Adam’s brake lights flared to life and his son turned the Bentley into a parking spot across the street from the Sea Girt lighthouse. The beacon atop the red brick building rotated, piercing the night sky, serving as a reference point for Adam and Bobbie, apparently, since they left their car and headed straight for the lighthouse.

They moved with determined strides that put distance between them and the street quickly, puzzling him, since Bobbie appeared to have little evidence of her earlier limp. The two marched in front of the lighthouse and then disappeared from sight.

Intrigued, Salvatore exited his car and chased after them.

Bobbie and Adam paused on the walkway in front of the beacon, scoping out the beachfront in between sweeps of the rotating light. The night’s earlier storm had created a haze along the shore and another approaching front hung over the ocean, threatening. Bright shards of light mixed with muted flashes as the tempest neared.

“It may not be safe along the waterfront if the storm hits,” Bobbie said, and Adam peered at her from the corner of his eye.

“It may not be safe period.” Adam tucked his hands beneath his arms and squinted into the misty night, trying to make out any shapes along the sand. There were none.

“Maybe you should stay up here. Just in case there’s trouble.”

Bobbie wagged her head emphatically. “No way, no how. We go together or we don’t go at all.”

Facing her, he took note of the determined set to her jaw and the defiant tilt of her head. She had on what he was coming to recognize as her stubborn face, and he knew it would be difficult to change her mind. Besides, if truth were told, he had no doubt he could count on her, both emotionally and as his wingman in a fight.

“You stay close. Just in case.”

She grabbed hold of his hand, leaned into his side, and rubbed her hand along his back. “Close. I’ll have your back.”

He grinned then, remembering the last time she’d had his back and his front and virtually every other part of him. Her smile and the glitter in her eyes communicated
that she remembered it as well. Pushing onto tiptoe, she swept a quick kiss across his lips before urging him forward.

Adam gripped her hand tightly as they stepped onto the beach. The sand was heavy, soaked from the prior rains. A low-lying mist lingered, swirled around their feet as they pushed ahead.

“They said in front of the lighthouse, right?” he asked, wanting to make sure they were walking to the correct location.

Bobbie looked all around, a furrow of worry in the middle of her forehead. “That’s what they said, except no one is here.”

They reached the hard-packed wet sand, and the mist continued to eddy around their feet. Suddenly a flash of lightning illuminated the ocean and the sweep of black fins cutting through the surface.

“Dolphins,” Bobbie whispered with a note of awed delight.

In Adam’s head came a strange buzzing, like static on a radio. He shook his head, trying to clear it, and from the side of his eye caught movement as two seagulls swooped downward. They glided down on the storm breeze onto the sand about twenty feet away from them and strutted back and forth, pecking at the sand. Normal, but something about them seemed off to him.

“Adam,” Bobbie said, and tugged at his hand.

He looked at her, but she was intently staring ahead.

Tracking her gaze, he noticed the pod of dolphins again as the lighthouse beacon swept across the water. It was a sight he’d seen more than once along the shore, but these dolphins weren’t moving parallel to the beach.
They were swimming straight for them, and as they did so, the drone in his head intensified. This time he understood it for what it was—the hum of power. Coming off the dolphins.

Another pass of the beacon illuminated the surface of the water.

The fins disturbed the surf barely ten feet from shore. A jagged spike of lightning, dangerously closer, lit up the ocean, revealing four black shapes rising out of the water.

Humans. Or at least they would be soon, he thought, taking note of how arms slowly pulled away from the sleek dolphins’ bodies. Their noses flattened and the area around their faces became normal.

Darkness descended for seconds before the rotation of the beacon illuminated the now-human-looking quartet striding toward him and Bobbie—three men and a woman dressed in black.