Dark Time: Mortal Path (29 page)

She flicked on a flashlight in the dark interior of the barn, and was shocked when another one winked on nearby. Instantly, she threw her flashlight at the source of the light. It went spinning end over end, aiming up and to the right of the second flashlight’s beam, where the chest of the person holding it should be.

Her flashlight struck the wall of the barn hard and dropped down.

“Ouch! What the hell, what are you doing?”

It was a familiar voice. Her flashlight, now lying on the ground, illuminated the lower body of Jake Stackman. He’d been sitting on the floor of the barn, waiting in the dark. Her flashlight had bounced off the wall and hit him in the head.

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“Christ! I’m going to have a bump the size of—”

“What are you doing here? And roll my flashlight back over to me.”

“I followed you here. I’ve been watching ShaleTech.” He kicked the flashlight in her direction, but it rolled to a stop eight feet from him. Cautiously, she went to pick it up.

“Don’t try anything. I’m armed,” she said.

“What a coincidence. So am I.”

She retrieved the flashlight and played it over him. He had his back against the wall of the barn and was rubbing the top of his head with one hand. The other hand held a gun pointed at her midsection.

She was eight feet away. She could knock that gun out of his hand before he could squeeze the trigger with his vulnerable one-handed grip.

“Why’d you visit Shale? Picking up drugs? Which is it, resale or personal use?”

“You have a one-track mind. I have nothing to do with Shale’s drug operation.”

“Then tell me the source of your information. You’re going to, one way or the other.”

He threatened me. This is getting ugly.

She lunged forward, planted one foot and used the other to flick the gun out of his hand. Before he could get up from his seated position, she snatched up the gun and ended up fifteen feet away, with his own gun pointed at him.

He frowned. “Well, shit.”

“Any more weapons you want to threaten me with?” She couldn’t keep a smug tone out of her voice.

“Shucks, I left my phaser at home. Who are you, anyway? You look like Emma Peel in that outfit.”

I should just shoot the guy. I’d be putting him out of his misery.

She didn’t act on the thought, no matter how tempting. Instead she sank to the ground, put the gun on the floor behind her, and sat facing him.

“You don’t know how much I regret that I ever gave you that tip about smuggling drugs in computers.”

“I’m not regretting this. My name’s going down for the credit on this operation. I’m getting a promotion out of this, in addition to taking a lot of drugs off the street. All I have to do is figure out your role. Are you a bad guy or not?”

“Why can’t you just believe me that I’m a good guy?”

“Lame. I need proof. Nice car you have there. Nice, expensive car.”

“I didn’t get that car with drug money. You know that. You already know how much money I’ve earned in the last few years.”

Jake levered himself to his feet. Startled, Maliha did the same. He walked toward her. She kicked his gun across the floor, so it landed underneath the McLaren. She drew a knife, but he kept coming.

“Stop! I’ll cut you.”

“You’re beautiful.”

“What?”

He was close, too close.
What was going on? Did he want to be killed?

“Dangerous. The most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen and dangerous, too.”

When he was three feet away, he reached for her knife arm. She blocked it easily, knocking his flashlight to the ground, and she was about to bring her flashlight around in an arc to hit the side of his head. He grabbed both of her shoulders, pulled her to him, and kissed her passionately.

Her first reaction was indignation. Her second was to pull back from his embrace. Her third was to melt into it.

Her flashlight slid to the ground, and she threw the knife she was holding toward the barn wall, where it stuck, quivering. Moments after that, when they’d frantically taken off each other’s clothing, Maliha wrapped her legs around Jake and took him inside her. His hands and mouth couldn’t get enough of her. He walked forward, his hands under her thighs, and then braced her ass on the McLaren’s front fender.

They were breathless, panting, moaning in time with the thrusts. Jake crushed his body against hers, flattening her breasts against his chest so man and woman couldn’t be any closer as they both cried out with release. Then she rested her head on his shoulder and ran her fingers across his sweaty back until he peeled himself away from her. She slid her feet to the ground and stood in front of him. With the light of two flashlights on the floor casting deep shadows, his hands explored her body. His touch was electric, so 97 z 138

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that everywhere on her skin that he touched she imagined he was leaving bright trails of sparks.

He leaned over and nestled his face into her neck, then whispered in her ear.

“I’ve wanted to do that from the moment I saw you.”

“Me, too.” She was surprised that it was the truth. “Does this mean I’m a good guy now?”

“Mmm.” He was kissing her neck, licking her earlobe. His warm breath excited her, and she felt his hardness growing.

They came together gently, moving slowly, tenderly, until they moaned with pleasure.

Afterward, Maliha pulled on her clothes with Jake’s eyes following her every move. She couldn’t stay around. The experience had been too intense, and she had to get away to think.

T
he morning after Maliha’s incursion into the Shale compound, her mind was thoroughly occupied, but not with what she’d learned at the compound. Instead she was vividly replaying her unexpected and fierce lovemaking with Jake. Her coffee grew cold in the cup. Photos she’d taken of the ledgers were scattered across the table, unexamined. Her laptop’s screensaver was put through its paces.

The computer chimed, and she saw an invitation to view Randy’s webcam. She accepted and the connection was made.

“Randy! What the hell happened to you that afternoon? A chauffeur? Really.”

Her friend was in violet silk pajamas, with a silly grin on her face and a radiance that came from sainthood or sex. In Randy’s case, Maliha guessed it wasn’t sainthood.

Randy peered at her through the screen. “Put your face up next to the camera.”

Maliha complied.

“What the hell happened to
you
? You so need Botox. Could do something with your hair, too.”

Pulling back, Maliha said, “Just tired, that’s all. Need to catch up on my sleep.”

Randy’s too observant. She picked up on the Dearborn age jump. What am I going to do about her?

Randy switched the subject, apparently accepting Maliha’s trumped-up story about fatigue.

“Take a look at this, girlfriend. C’mere, Rip.”

A man stepped to Randy’s side within camera range. She turned her webcam toward him and the screen filled with a gorgeous six-pack. Randy rubbed her hand across it like a washboard and continued downward off the screen.

Maliha was caught between wishing the camera would tilt downward and being glad that it didn’t.

On top of what she’d already been thinking about Jake, it would have been too much to process. She hoped Yanmeng or Amaro didn’t stray in, because this little interchange would be hard to explain.

“Well-defined
rectus abdominus
,” she squeaked out.

“Hey, I’m not talking about his asshole here,” Randy retorted.

“Forget it. Listen, I was in the middle of something. You two go back to whatever. Call me later, Randy, I’ve got news of my own.”

Randy’s face lit up. “Marsha slept with Jaa-ake, Marsha slept with Jaa-ake,” she said in a singsong fashion.

Maliha cut the connection before Randy could ask any questions.

I don’t know why I mentioned that. I’ll have to make up some news, because I’m not ready to say
anything about Jake.

The morning’s thoughts of hot sex and abs were swept from her mind when she heard that two U.S.

senators had been killed in their homes overnight.

While she was still absorbing the news, Maliha got a phone call. She hesitated, then answered it. It was from Deputy Secretary of Homeland Security Joe Manning, aka Cocomo. Only his good friends used the nickname. Maliha wasn’t in that category, but he’d insisted, establishing a false closeness for purposes of his own. She’d met Cocomo once and he’d contributed to her charitable foundation. In the hothouse of D.C. politics, that meant he was a bosom buddy, and he treated her like one on the phone. Underlying his 98 z 138

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friendliness, she could detect a lot of tension.

The small talk fizzled out, and he came to the real reason for his call. He wanted to meet with her as soon as she could get there. She demurred, and he said that he had information about the two coders that tied them to the senators’ deaths.

That did it. She took the first flight out and rented a car in D.C.

Late-afternoon shadows slanted across Woodrow Wilson Plaza, within walking distance of the White House. The curved walls of the Ronald Reagan Building were an interesting architectural background to the open area of the plaza. Trees sported fall colors, the sky was a brilliant blue, and the food in a plaza café was delicious. A heavy sweater pulled over her blouse was perfect for the chill in the air. She’d gone to the plaza straight from the airport and dawdled around, waiting for the meeting time.

While she waited, her thoughts roamed, and kept turning to her time with Jake in the barn.

Does he love me? Or is this just a physical thing for him? So many times before, that’s all it’s been
for me.

Was love something she could trust? Her husband, Nathan, had stood by and done nothing while she was dragged from their home, accused of witchcraft. Yet she thought she’d loved him. Since then she’d given her heart to no one.

What if I fall in love with Jake and lose him? How do people cope with this kind of uncertainty?

Maliha coped by remaining closed off, and the fact that she couldn’t get Jake out of her mind worried her.

If I don’t drop this right now, I’ll be in new territory. Serious relationship territory.

She could’ve easily pushed out of her mind any other man to whom she’d made love only once. Or for that matter, a dozen times.

There’s just something about him. Maybe it’s his mysterious past, a kind of kinship I feel with him.

He’s done something in the past, something bad.

She caught her breath.
He could be like me, formerly Ageless.

The thought went around and around in her head as if her brain were a clothes dryer, and it was soon joined by another.

That could be why he has five “lost” years Amaro discovered. Jake uses that time to reinvent
himself, like I do.

She wondered if he could read her aura. There was a chance that she was born with sensitivity to auras and had only refined an ability she already had. Rabishu may have had nothing to do with it, so Jake might not have that gift. Plus, there was no reason to believe that the demons handed out an identical benefits package to each of their slaves. Grandfather could change his appearance, something Maliha couldn’t do. Jake might have gotten super vision or something.

She gasped.
Or mind reading. Or remote viewing. Oh, shit.

The toast he’d made in his apartment came back, the reference to aging and love.

Her waiting time, spent thinking about Jake, passed quickly, and left her with the slightly queasy feeling that he knew too much about her. At a few minutes to four, Maliha sat on a half wall in the area of the Wilson Plaza Cocomo had designated, within sight of a large metal rose sculpture.

He arrived, a tall man in a suit that looked slept in, with an aura that said he was frightened.

“Walk with me,” he said, after thanking her for coming. It was Saturday, and there were tourists milling around, so the two of them didn’t stand out. They strolled the plaza like a pair of lovers, shoulders brushing together occasionally. She approved of the device of looking like a couple as long as he didn’t want to hold hands.

Cocomo was close enough that he could speak for her ears only. He was slightly out of breath, and it wasn’t from the exertion. The nervous way he looked around made it clear he was worried. He didn’t waste any time.

“Senators Kosiorek and Lewiston. You’ve heard about their deaths?”

“Very little. I heard on the news that they’d been killed in their homes, that’s all.”

“Throats slashed, both of them. Lewiston was in his bathtub, fully clothed. Kosiorek was in his office, leaning back in his chair, like someone had come up from behind and…” He trailed off.

“How does this affect you and me?”

“The senators and I were involved in obtaining a lucrative contract for a company. Not that the company didn’t deserve it—their research was solid—but we handheld the whole thing, fended off some 99 z 138

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competition, and put down some last-minute questions about it.”

“The three of you took bribes, in other words.”

“I’m not proud about that. I know it’s hard to believe in this town, but it’s the first time I’ve been involved in anything like that. I had my reasons, but looking back, nothing is reason enough.”

He stopped and checked the surroundings again. “Two of the people I worked with have been murdered. The police don’t have any clues. I have to assume I’m next on the hit list. I haven’t been home since I got the news.”

She studied Cocomo’s aura again, and found a desperate honesty clinging to the edges of the churning emotion of fear.

“What’s the company involved?”

“I’ll get to that. First I want to talk about you doing something for me.”