No Ordinary Love

No Ordinary Love [Incognito Series Book 1] by Karen Wiesner Whiskey Creek Press www.whiskeycreekpress.com Copyright ©...

Author: Wiesner Karen

24 downloads 753 Views 1MB Size Report

This content was uploaded by our users and we assume good faith they have the permission to share this book. If you own the copyright to this book and it is wrongfully on our website, we offer a simple DMCA procedure to remove your content from our site. Start by pressing the button below!
Report copyright / DMCA form

DOWNLOAD PDF

No Ordinary Love [Incognito Series Book 1] by Karen Wiesner

Whiskey Creek Press www.whiskeycreekpress.com

Copyright ©2006 by WHISKEY CREEK PRESS

NOTICE: This eBook is licensed to the original purchaser only. Duplication or distribution to any person via email, floppy disk, network, print out, or any other means is a violation of International copyright law and subjects the violator to severe fines and/or imprisonment. This notice overrides the Adobe Reader permissions which are erroneous. This eBook cannot be legally lent or given to others. This eBook is displayed using 100% recycled electrons.

Distributed by Fictionwise.com

2


NO ORDINARY LOVE: Book 1 of the Incognito Series by Karen Wiesner WHISKEY CREEK PRESS www.whiskeycreekpress.com

3


Published by WHISKEY CREEK PRESS Whiskey Creek Press PO Box 51052 Casper, WY 82605-1052 www.whiskeycreekpress.com Copyright © 2006 by Karen Wiesner Names, characters and incidents depicted in this book are products of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental and beyond the intent of the author or the publisher. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher. ISBN 1-59374-695-4 4


Credits Cover Artist: Karen Wiesner Editor: Dave Field Printed in the United States of America

5


WHAT THEY ARE SAYING ABOUT NO ORDINARY LOVE "...This is the first book in the Incognito Series. I found it to be a very solid foundation for what could very well turn out to be one of the best romantic suspense novels of the year. It overflows in action and drama, with just the right amount of romance. Pre-order a copy if you can. Outstanding!" ~~Reviewed by Detra Fitch for Huntress Reviews: www.huntressreviews.com/erom.htm "...NO ORDINARY LOVE is no ordinary book. Vincent and Kira are transcendent characters, almost larger than life, yet very human in their flaws and frailties. Love burns bright between them, but for Kira it is tarnished with fear, and for Vincent intertwined with duty. Can they possibly escape this baggage and build a real relationship? This is a page turner, taut, nail-biting thriller interwoven with a poignant, powerful romance. It is truly a book I could not put down. There are some spicy love scenes, but emotions far outweigh lust. My need to learn who actually are the good guys and the bad drove me to turn page after page. Revelations came just often enough to keep me off balance until the end, which is happy in spite of all the angst to get there. My recommendation? Buy it. Read it. Soon!" ~~Coffee Time Romance www.coffeetimeromance.com/ "This first book of the Incognito Series has me hooked! I was completely engrossed with these characters from word one. Page after page, I felt more connected to the story-line 6


and was extremely impressed by how Ms. Wiesner worked in the underground tunnels and "mole people" that inhabit them. What a wonderful piece of originality. Typically a book on secret organizations and espionage can be very predictable and flat, but there was never a time I felt that this book was lacking. Very nicely done!" ~Lighthouse Literary Reviews: www.lighthouseliteraryreviews.com/May2006Reviews.html #anchor133 "...Having read some other books written by Ms. Wiesner, I must say that I think she's really hit her stride as an author. This book was the best one of hers that I have read to date. I thought she did a wonderful job of building the blossoming romance as well as keeping us on our toes as Kira and Vincent try to stay one step ahead of those who would take them down. The story moves from the first page to the last and I never found myself wishing for story changes or for more/less action. I felt like Ms. Wiesner was anticipating my desires as a reader and was able to deliver the story I wanted. I will say you'd better hold onto your hats at the end. Wow! There are more twists, curves and hairpin turns than on a mountain road. I couldn't put it down and was surprised at how some of the things turned out. NO ORDINARY LOVE is a delightful blend of romance and action. Both segments mesh so well that it will entertain and delight both romance lovers and action/adventure lovers alike." ~Once Upon a Romance Review www.onceuponaromance.net/NoOrdinaryLoveReview.html

7


Other Books by Author Available at Whiskey Creek Press: www.whiskeycreekpress.com Tales from the Treasure Trove, Volume I (An Anthology with Karen's traditional romance, "The Amethyst Angel") Small Gifts (An Anthology with Karen's inspirational romance, "A Home for Christmas") Treasures of the Heart (An Anthology with Karen's contemporary romance, "A Rose for Romeo")

8


Dedication Thanks to John Gorman (author of King of the Romans, an EPPIE 2000 finalist in historical fiction) who sent me maps and answered my endless questions about New York and the subways. Finally, thanks to Shirley Cayer and Victoria Hinshaw for helping me with my Chicago research.

9


Prologue Angelo's footsteps resounded through the stark corridor of the underground compound as he walked toward the white room where they were keeping the child. Drop the girl into an orphanage. That was what Oversight Committee wanted to do with the girl. Angelo grimaced. He rarely agreed with the powers that be, but in their covert organization he did what he was told. This time he knew he had no choice but to allow the lamb to go into the system. She knew far too much. At just ten years old, she'd seen too much as well. She'd been in hiding for so long, running from the threat stalking her family. Only a few hours ago, she'd seen her father gunned down. The girl's confusion since then had been total, making Angelo wonder if she'd really understood what happened on that dead end street. If she remembered... Angelo gritted his teeth. Someday the girl would remember. Someday she would figure it out. Angelo couldn't allow that. Not when he was so close to getting what he needed. The girl's memory would have to be erased. When he reached the door of the white room, he hesitated. Much as he wasn't looking forward to it, he'd have to tell Kyle what they planned to do to keep the organization secure. Better that Kyle hear it from him. From the first, Angelo had seen that Kyle wasn't an operative who performed his duty like a well-programmed machine, the way he'd been trained to. He did his job, but he did it his own way. He was an operative worth more than an 10


entire team. But, when Kyle found the girl covered in her father's blood out there tonight, something had happened to him. The child had gone into his arms—into the arms of a stranger—and refused to accept anyone else's comfort. From that moment, Angelo understood his prize operative had lost his allegiance to the organization. His loyalty was to the girl. Probably because Kyle had been, for all intents and purposes, abandoned as a child himself. Kyle wouldn't agree with what they had to do to contain this leak, Angelo knew. But they had no choice. Focus on the mission. Right now, what mattered was that this girl had seen too much and she would have to be silenced. She would have to disappear. Permanently. It was the only way to maintain structural integrity. Taking a deep breath, Angelo pushed his card into the scanner and waited for the door to open. By the time Kyle found out, it would be too late for him to change anything. The white room was the shape of an octagon with flat, brilliant white walls untouched by decoration or places to hide. The bed they'd brought for the girl was empty save for a G.I. Joe action doll and an untouched sandwich. A full glass of milk had been spilled on the floor. The girl was gone. Swearing, Angelo turned back and flew down the hall before the doors had even hissed to a close behind him. God only knew what the girl's parents could have taught her about escape. If she'd somehow gotten out, an alert would have sounded instantly. Unless... 11


The realization growing in Angelo's mind seemed impossible. Unthinkable. Even when he had the undeniable proof right in from of him, he couldn't get himself to believe it. Kyle had taken the girl. They'd trained him to disappear without a trace, to be a master of disguise and deception. He was one of the best operatives they had. Regardless, he and the girl would be hunted and they would be found. Kyle had taken her before they could wipe her memory. Sooner or later, those memories would return. The girl would be alone at some point, Angelo acknowledged while he unconsciously held the action doll in a strangling grip. And then Kyle wouldn't be able to protect her from her fate.

12


Chapter 1 "You've been a tyrant today." Vincent Carson's gentle, unmistakable voice floated to her from the doorway of her office much later in the day than she'd expected him to appear. "Welcome back, love." Kira couldn't control her need to look at him, but she could control her rigid expression as she growled, "I leave for a little while, and everyone falls into slovenly habits." Vincent shook his head, not commenting on the state of her own cluttered office as he straightened from leaning against the door frame. Kira clenched her jaw to hold back the instinctive moan cramming itself into her throat and begging relentlessly for release. She'd been gone forever ... or may as well have been for how good it felt to see him. Her chest felt impossibly tight watching him enter the room in strides that seemed to eat up her resolve along with the distance between them. The casually sophisticated clothes he wore could have been nothing at all for the reaction she had to it. God, it wasn't even the clothes Vincent wore so much as the way they flowed against his body with animal-like grace. Though he worked out religiously every day and his muscles were hard as rock, she knew only too well how smooth his skin was. Like steel encased in velvet. "You've been gone three months, Kira." Somehow he made that sound even longer than it'd felt to her. 13


I didn't even think of him. I told myself I didn't notice the time. The void I felt without him. I didn't let myself. "Everything we needed to get done was done. Profits were up this quarter, as usual," he said, reminding her what she well knew. The closer he came, the fiercer the pressure coiled in her chest. She could see him again, smell his spicy cologne, so familiar. At one time, his scent had comforted her. Now it heated her blood and made her heart pound painfully. She could feel him before he'd even touched her. The need to be in his arms hadn't lessened in the least during their separation. "Did you find what you were looking for in Rome?" he asked pointedly, and her eyes narrowed as she gazed at him. He knew. He knew she'd gone to Rome for the important business reason of searching out new fabrics for the upcoming summer line. Kira Gunn Industries always had the newest, the most innovative, the most exciting fashions. He also knew she'd stayed for no reason. No reason outside of her desire ... no, not her desire ... her need to escape him. He'd known the whole time, but he'd allowed her to go. He hadn't come after her. For the first time ever, he'd given her freedom from him. In the past, her any suggestion that meant their separation for even twenty-four hours had resulted in him seeking out and unfailingly finding a more efficient way of doing the task so they could be together. Yet he'd consented for them to be apart for three endless months. 14


When Kira looked into his dark eyes as he stood in front of her desk, her shock turned to shame she didn't want to feel. She'd hurt him with her need to get away and stay away from him. These past few months had been as hard on him as they'd been on her. Why? Why had he let her go? Why hadn't he come after her? And why had he suffered without her? Why, dammit? Forcefully shoving away her guilt, Kira turned back to the mess of papers spread out across her desk. Nothing's changed. In three months of agony, trying to free myself from this man, I'm right back where I started. Even as she asked herself what she'd expected, she anticipated his understanding of her feelings now. Vincent was nothing if not empathetic when it came to her. He moved around the desk, put his gentle, tormenting hands on her shoulders, and her frustration mounted even while her willpower crumbled. Anything she wanted, anything she needed, he would give to her. He wouldn't think of himself for even a second. As her soul railed in aggravation at those same things, she could soak it all in. "You need to slow down, Kira," Vincent whispered, his mouth near her ear. Every nerve ending in her body screamed to vibrant life. Kira closed her eyes helplessly to the sound. She hadn't closed her eyes for more than a few hours a day for the past three months. Vincent hadn't been there to keep back the horrors awaiting her there. Instead of feeling more focused in 15


his absence, she realized now that she felt weak, out of control—things she couldn't tolerate—and completely lost. "You're running your employees ragged. You're running yourself into the ground, and I won't let you do it. You should have taken the day off when your flight got in this morning instead of working all day." Kira made no effort to fight him nor to fight herself and the vow she'd made to loosen his hold on her life. A hold she'd welcomed for as long as she could remember. "When's the last time you slept? Ate?" One of his hands left her shoulder, and Kira heard rather than saw him picking up the wrappers from various junk foods strewn across her desk and the floor around the wastebasket from a long day at work. She didn't need to answer. For the past fifteen years—the only years of her life she remembered—Vincent had come to know her better than she knew herself. He seemed to understand exactly what she needed when she needed it ... before she understood the need herself. "I take care of you," he'd said more times than she could count. Kira squeezed her eyes tighter together when he whispered, "I missed you." She heard his pain and couldn't close herself off from it this time. She was so tired. Vincent would take care of her. She could just close her eyes, lean back and give in. "Let me call Perry. He can be in your kitchen before we arrive. And then I can watch over you while you sleep." She shook her head. "I can't sleep." "You have to. You will. I'll be there." 16


Sighing, she turned her head to look up at him. He wouldn't relent unless she gave him no choice. And she didn't think she had it in her tonight. She nodded her assent only once.

17


Chapter 2 "Have you had any episodes?" he asked gently in the limousine, on their way toward her Fifth Avenue penthouse. Kira looked away from him, out the window, mumbling stubbornly, "I told you I haven't every time we talked on the phone. I wasn't lying to you." She hadn't had one of her 'episodes' in nine years. She'd been meds-free in that time. After undergoing every possible medical test in existence to find out the cause of the seizures she'd had since she was ten years old and having those tests come out normal, inconclusive, Vincent had gone back to his original belief. The non-epileptic seizures that resulted in every muscle in her body, including those that allowed her to breathe, seizing up forcefully, were caused by emotional trauma. They both accepted the diagnosis, but neither could explain it. Vincent shifted closer, taking her hand in a wordless request for her to accept his comfort. She should reject him, but she couldn't do it. Not tonight. When he continued to wait for her, stroking her arm, she couldn't keep her distance for another second. He sighed as he put his arm around her and held her close, his hands going to her hair in a deep caress that sent shivers all through her. I didn't want to miss you. She was too filled with ecstasy at the feel of him again to care about her vows to herself, to prevent the thought emerging. To the world, Vincent Carson was her assistant—one industry rivals had tried multiple times to steal away from 18


her. His loyalty to her was as well-known in the fashion world as her temperamental genius. She'd been eighteen when she'd started Kira Gunn Fashions. Under her aggressive leadership, the company had evolved in only seven years into Kira Gunn Industries, an influential, multi-billion-dollar corporation with a considerable number of branches around the world. Vincent had home-schooled her as a child, but in a very short time she began learning on her own. Her thirst for knowledge had been like an unquenchable sponge. Vincent denied her nothing as her interests took her every-whichway. The only thing she'd resisted was learning more than how to use the basic programs on a standard PC. That alone she'd shied away from, like the prospect was a scorching flame. In any case, her love of the arts had superceded all else. Her flare for colors and patterns, individual style, had been evident at a young age. She'd begun sketching anything and everything she saw. Even after Vincent insisted she learn how to use a design software program, she inevitably reverted to using paper and charcoal to flesh out the designs in her mind. She'd completed college at age seventeen, with highest marks. When she told Vincent what she wanted to do—start her own company—he'd simply said, "Then that's what you'll do." He'd been there every step of the way as her assistant. While they took the elevator to the top floor of her apartment building, Kira no longer berated herself for breaking the vows she'd made in Rome. Tomorrow she'd learn to live without him. Tomorrow she'd control everything 19


about her life. She'd take care of herself then. She didn't have the energy to resist him tonight. Allowing him to open the door of her suite, where tantalizing scents made her stomach feel hollow with hunger, Kira took a shaky breath. She'd missed home. Instead of coming to her penthouse from the airport early this morning, she'd gone straight to the office and worked through her jetlag. Her dog, a gray and white male German Shepherd a few years old, greeted her enthusiastically. Vincent had gotten her a dog when they first moved to New York. King had died three years ago, devastating Kira. Though she hadn't been ready for a new pet so soon, Vincent had given her Ruff the day after King died. She'd resisted the puppy at first, naming him off the top of her head just to give him one, but the appeal of a desperately-seeking-love puppy had melted her in no time at all. "Ruff, boy, did you miss me?" She dropped her briefcase as the dog tackled her and they sank to the goza-matted floor for a playful wrestle. "I'll see how Perry's doing with dinner," Vincent said with a smile, once he'd closed the front door. Perry was a five-star chef with his own restaurant, made popular because Kira faithfully hired him whenever Kira Gunn Industries needed catering. Scratching behind Ruff's ears while he licked her face, Kira watched Vincent disappear into the kitchen with a thought that hadn't occurred to her for a long time. It was Friday night. Why didn't Vincent have anything better to do than see 20


to it personally that she ate and slept and relaxed? Without inquiring, she knew he hadn't had dinner. Although she hadn't called ahead from Rome to say she was returning in the morning, he'd hoped to see her tonight. As soon as he'd found out she was back, he'd planned his night around her— she had no doubt whatsoever about that. Why would he do such a thing? Had he had plans before he learned she was returning? No, she knew he hadn't. Sitting up, Kira looked around her spotless apartment. As usual, Vincent had taken care of everything. She had no mail to attend to. No messes to clean up. Everything looked just as it had before she'd left. Shortly after cooking one of his famous gourmet meals, Perry departed, bowing to her repeatedly as he wished them good eating. Vincent served in the colorful, Japanese-styled living room, on the low kotatsu table she liked to eat and work on. They each sat on one of the many zabuton pillows decorating the room. For a long few minutes, Kira merely ate to salve the furious rumbling in her stomach, only noticing it was delicious as an afterthought. When the edge eased off, she tossed Ruff some meat, which the dog caught in his mouth. Surreptitiously, she glanced at Vincent across the table. He was young—thirty-one, undeniably attractive—but she'd always wondered if she was merely biased about that. When women looked at him, he rarely noticed it. Every woman's gaze went to Vincent, to her, then away. Vincent wasn't her lover. He wasn't a brother or father either. She knew most 21


people believed they were lovers. And maybe that was why women looked at him, looked at her, and looked away. His midnight-obscure eyes met hers, and Kira had to force herself not to look away. While she knew he was never uncomfortable under her gaze, she couldn't help feeling exposed. Vincent made no overt efforts to be sexy, no efforts at all, considering the fact that he had no friends, no lovers, and he was generally considered ruthless by those who worked with him. Kira was the only one in the world who knew of his tenderness, his sweetness, the deep emotions he hid from everyone except her. He did it for her, to protect her, she knew. He cut himself off from relationships for her, too. He is good looking. It's not just my bias. Any woman would find him attractive. But I shouldn't ... should I? Kira swallowed again, tenaciously allowing herself to study him even though he was aware of her interest. His short black hair, while trimmed and well-cut, managed to maintain some sense of a rebel anyway. His face was made up of straight, chiseled lines. Many people found his expression hard, yet she knew him too well to ever see him that way. She saw his ink black, thickly fringed eyes, so tender whenever he looked at her. The unshavable roughness of his jaw that made her shiver whenever she was that close to him. His full, masculine lips. He was tall, muscular, yet as lean as a jaguar and seemingly always on watch. By all appearances, he never rested either. She remembered trying to watch him sleep when she was younger. Remembered wanting so desperately to catch him unaware, unguarded. Each time she was nearby, 22


however, he woke instantly and asked her if she was all right or needed anything. Yet the vulnerability remained perpetually for her in his face. Just once, she wanted to prove he was fallible, but the fact remained that he did everything well. "Do you date?" she asked abruptly. Though she anticipated it, she was nonetheless surprised by his lack of shame or subterfuge at her probing question. He answered simply and honestly, as if he was an open book to her: "No." "Why not?" she demanded. He reached for his glass. Again his tone was brisk. "Why would I?" She couldn't help watching the oddly arousing movement of his Adam's apple when he drank. Her body heated more. Shaking herself mentally, her hand went in frustration to the messy ponytail she'd shoved her long, thick hair into that morning. "For companionship. Enjoyment. Sex." Vincent didn't blush. He didn't waver. He shook his head. "I don't need those things." He didn't say it, didn't need to, but she intuited with every cell inside her that he was thinking, 'I have you.' The frustration that had kept her away from him for three months flew to the surface as she accepted and then discarded what he'd said. Why was she enough for him? What enjoyment did he derive from her? What did she give him that a lover would? Nothing. How much worth was her companionship? She well understood she wasn't easy to live with. She was an insomniac who needed control of every 23


fragment of her life. She drove herself every waking moment because it kept her from the nightmares. It gave her purpose and fulfillment. So why the hell was she so unsatisfied lately? And why the hell was Vincent so altruistic with her? So loyal? "Do you love me?" Kira spoke louder and sharper than she intended to. The sound of the words struck her as highly inappropriate. The vacuum of neediness inside her sucked all the air out of her chest as her question rang back accusingly in her ears. She'd never asked him. She'd never needed to ask when she was young. When she ached to know, she'd forced herself not to ask. She could have no more handled a yes than a no. He brushed too-long bangs out of her eyes, never looking away from her while digesting her words, examined her expression and searched out her intentions. When he spoke, his words were clear, without hesitation. "There is nothing else, Kira." Kira glanced away with her mind burning. What kind of an answer was that? How could there be nothing else? And yet she knew. Fifteen years ago, when she was approximately ten years old, a sixteen-year-old Vincent had found her. She remembered nothing before that moment. At that instant, he'd become her life. She'd become his. From the time her eyes met his, there had been nothing else. For her. For him. Vincent Carson was all she knew. All she remembered. It was that fact that had recently kept her away from him for so long.

24


As she got up and went to her stereo to block out the fears raging in her head with music, she heard Vincent behind her, cleaning up. Before she'd found balance enough to face him again, he was there, offering what alarmed her almost as much as the singularity of her life did, "Let me massage you. You can sleep. I'll be here if the dreams come." "No," she whispered against what she wanted more than anything, against his magic hands already caressing her aching back and arms. "No. No, Vincent. You have to go." She wanted to lean back against his hard, masculine body. Take what he offered. Ask for what he would give her if only she said the words. "You need to relax and rest, Kira. I know you stopped sleeping nine years ago because the seizures come whenever you sleep ... dream, but you're not invincible. You have to take care of yourself. Let me take care of you, too. Please." "You need to go, Vincent." She slipped out of the shelter of his arms, feeling cold and utterly alone because of it. Wrapping her arms around herself, she stared into his narrowed eyes. She had to fight herself not to take back her words. "Have I done something to hurt you?" he asked. The vulnerability in his expression almost undid her. She couldn't hurt him without feeling like she was cutting him right to the bone. All I do is cause you pain. I take from you. I never give. Yet you don't care. You accept that. You don't want anything in return, even if I could give something to you. 25


"No. But I want you to go anyway. Don't ask me why," she muttered harshly. The look on his face was transparent. Her request all but killed him, but he would deny her nothing. "If you need anything..." he started uncertainly. "I know," she cut him off. She couldn't watch him leave, so she staggered out of the room, through the Noren curtains, with Ruff on her heels. Inside her bathroom, she tore off her clothes as if the hounds of hell were on her tail and slammed the shower on. I can't listen to his footsteps. Can't let myself hear the door close. Or I'll call him back. I'll go after him. And I can't. I can't live my life like this anymore. It's destroying me. But imagining a life without Vincent...

26


Chapter 3 Her mind focused on the swell of music coming from the living room. Ruff whined as though he'd been trained to distrust the effect Rimsky-Korsakov's 'Scheherazade, Suite symphonique' had on her. Kira smiled weakly at her own rebellion. Knowing Vincent, he'd somehow guess she was listening to this when they both realized she shouldn't. Sleep ... maybe I'm too damn tired to dream. Just sleep... As Vincent had pointed out, despite knowing how much she hated to talk about it, she had to sleep some time. When she was sixteen, she'd gone against everything the specialists—and Vincent—believed. Her seizures came the majority of the time while she was asleep. They came with the nightmares. She couldn't close her eyes for a full two hours and sleep without having a seizure. She'd been a gangly, weak invalid of a child for so long, letting doctors and Vincent decide everything about her life. The only thing she'd had going for her was Mensa-level intelligence and a stubborn streak. She stopped sleeping for longer than thirty minutes in any twelve-hour period. At first, she'd needed an alarm clock to wake her. Now her body was under her control. At that time, she'd also begun an intense exercise program to make her body strong. She hadn't had a seizure since. And she'd become muscular, healthy. She could do twice as much in a day. Vincent was strong, but so was she. She'd spent nine years wondering if he'd noticed the changes in her or if he just couldn't turn off his need to coddle her. 27


She caught a glimpse of the time, just before she shut down in sleep in a way she rarely allowed herself, and then only for short periods. Cold. Wet. It'd rained not long ago. The bushes were wet. Voices ... A word she reached toward but couldn't call forth stuck in her throat. Let's go home, she thought. Let's go. It was too dark to see anything, but she leaned forward. Voices came closer. It was coming. She couldn't hide from it... Kira sat up, a scream bursting from her throat, her hands grabbing for something, anything to block out the sound that had slammed her back into consciousness. All the lights remained on in her bedroom, and Ruff whined again from the doorway. No surprise at all came to her when her phone rang, once, twice, then the answering machine in the living room picked it up. "Kira, are you all right?" Vincent's pause was long and she felt the anguish in his tone when he said, "Call me if you need me." Even then, he waited another minute or so to make sure she wasn't going to pick up. He always knew. Somehow he always knew exactly when she might need him. Wherever she was, he knew. Her emotional state seemed to be part of his clairvoyance no matter what she was doing. Seconds after she woke from a nightmare, the phone would ring. Sometimes Vincent would be at her door not ten minutes later, asking her if she was all right. Glancing at the clock, she saw with anger that she'd been asleep for a mere fifteen minutes. She pushed herself off the 28


mattress and stalked into the living room to bang off the classical music which seemed to bring on the nightmares without fail. Despite that, she could never seem to rid herself of it. Can you dream about the same thing over and over if it's just a nightmare? She pondered the thought, rubbing her tight chest between her breasts and shivering despite the warmth of her apartment. Or do you only dream about things multiple times if they're memories? Switching to the radio, a rap channel that made Ruff cover his ears and whine pitifully, Kira went to the locked drawer of her desk. She forced herself to clear her mind completely as she removed her gun, took it out of the wooden case, made sure it was unloaded before she began to clean it methodically, just the way Vincent had taught her to when she was eleven. The sound that had woken her ... the sound that always woke her: Gunshots ripping through the air. It was because of this gun, the one Vincent had trained her to use, that she could identify the sounds in her dreams. Why would someone teach an eleven-year-old girl to clean, load and aim a gun? To defend herself? Against what? But then nothing about her life with Vincent had been normal. Not the way he gave of himself to her without thought to his own needs. Not the way he tried to shelter her, even as he encouraged her to go for whatever she wanted in life. And certainly not the way he stared at her sometimes, when he 29


thought she didn't notice. He looked at her as if he wanted to crush himself into a little ball and put himself into her hand. But even that wouldn't be enough for him. Why, dammit?

30


Chapter 4 "I can't tonight," Kira had said, reluctant to look at Vincent, unwilling to see that she'd hurt him again. "I have a date." Two hours later, she'd still been able to see the resigned acceptance in Vincent's nod before he'd asked the name of her date, then left her office. Ross was famous, a billionaire like herself, good looking. Yet she felt nothing except regret, listening to him talk about his recent travels. I could be with Vincent now. How was it possible that she'd spent only a few hours with this man, yet she felt she knew more about him in an evening than she knew about Vincent in an entire lifetime—the only lifetime she could remember? No mystery here. No danger. No mingling of terror and scream-out-loud excitement at the mere thought of him, as the two extremes built together to the ultimate frustration. She couldn't belong to Vincent completely. She couldn't belong to a man she didn't know. A man who was all she knew. It was a contradiction that had taken some of her sanity because, no matter how she tried, she couldn't reconcile the two. After three months vowing to give herself to someone else, because it was the only way to exorcise herself of Vincent, she was right back where she started. She needed answers. To the past. To her past and Vincent's. Answers that didn't exist. She didn't need to feel so damn much where he was concerned. 31


The relief she felt when she was inside her building, away from her date, came over her like a wave. Vincent would be in her apartment—that she knew without a doubt. Maybe she should permit him to believe she'd made love with another man, but that wasn't something she could do. She wasn't even sure why. Seeing Vincent sitting against her door, waiting for her outside her suite instead of inside, surprised her so much she could only stare at him for a second. In that second, he got to his feet. She stared at him, relieved by his presence yet angry that he calmed her so easily on a visceral level. Clenching her teeth, she strode toward him. "Why didn't you go in?" she demanded more harshly than she needed to as she slipped her key into the door without looking at him. She felt him like a warm, soothing yet equally unsettling fire inside. "I thought you might need privacy." Kira couldn't keep herself from glancing at him to gauge his intentions. Once again, he seemed to know. He knew exactly what she'd planned for her date tonight. She could have made love with another man, given herself as if it didn't matter. Why did Vincent's expression tell her that when her own heart said the complete opposite? "Did he hurt you?" He touched his fingertips to her cheek, seeming to track tears she hadn't allowed herself to cry. When he caressed her lips, she could almost get herself to believe he wanted to kiss her as badly as she wanted him to. Kira's jaw tightened painfully. She needed to be enclosed in his embrace, to drag his mouth to hers, to make him know 32


definitively that it was all for him. Her abstinence, her relentless need, her frustration because none of it could be. No, she couldn't give herself the kind of freedom Vincent did simply because there was nothing he wouldn't give her. He would give her exactly what she asked for, exactly what she needed. "I need a massage," she said and disappeared into her apartment, straight into her darkest desires.

33


Chapter 5 She hadn't admitted to herself that she'd gone to Rome, stayed there as long as she had, to avoid this. The last time he'd massaged her, the night before she decided to go, she'd known without a single doubt that Vincent and Vincent alone held the power over her heart, her soul, her body, her very breath. "You need to sleep, Kira," Vincent said behind her, his strong hands closing over her shoulders as though he, too, knew how fiercely she'd ached the night before she'd gone to Rome. Maybe he had known. Did he think it was wrong that he possessed her in all ways? Had he wondered, as she had, if it would be a mortal sin for them to make love? How could it be wrong? How could it be right? Either answer could be equally true. "I don't need the screams," she said, closing her eyes, not against the nightmares she spoke of, but against her own craving to lean back toward him and feel the full length of his body. Give herself up to his magic hands. As though fulfilling her unvoiced wish, he closed the remaining distance between them, putting his arms around her waist with the solid wall of his chest against her back. Reassuringly, he murmured, "I'll sleep next to you. I'll watch over you, love. If they start, I'll wake you." Kira closed her eyes, swallowing pain that filled her throat like acid. Fissures of sensation erupted under her skin at his nearness. 34


"Vincent, who are you?" she whispered, eyeing him surreptitiously. He didn't seem surprised or offended. Instead, he said, as if on automatic, "I'm the one who takes care of you." Easing herself around but not out of his embrace, she faced him. Dammit, she wanted to be furious at him for his reticence to answer her question. But she'd never been able to be angry at him for long. Somehow that felt like a cruel betrayal of his unfailing loyalty. "Who are you? Why are you here? Why are we together? Why didn't I have parents like other people do? Why did I have you?" She hurled the words at him like grenades, unable to stop until she saw the hurt he didn't want her to see in his eyes. "Why does it wound you for me to ask you this?" she demanded, her tone shaky with fury and underlying regret. "I have to ask! I have to have the answers." "I've spent my life giving you everything I have," he told her softly, his hands moving automatically to caress her arms. "Everything you need. I'm sorry if that's not enough." No sarcasm harbored in his words, yet Kira couldn't imagine a situation that more deserved it. He was genuinely sorry if he hadn't given her enough, despite the fact that he'd given her every last thing he had. He wasn't offended. He grieved at his failure. He'd created more questions again, rather than providing the answers she so desperately needed. But then she remembered Ross, looking at her mouth with the obvious desire to kiss her. All she wanted to do was put her arms 35


around Vincent, kiss his face and beg him to forgive her for trying to give someone else what belonged to him—wrong or right. Lifting her hands, she cradled Vincent's face, watching his eyes close at her belated attempt to heal him. When he leaned his cheek against hers, she was so aware of his mouth a half-inch from hers, she couldn't stop herself from brushing her lips against his just for an instant. "Come to bed with me. Give me a massage so I'll fall asleep," she murmured, drawing back slightly. The intensity of his gaze when he opened his eyes, nodding to her, made her want to scream again. If she didn't walk away immediately, she wouldn't be as indifferent to his touch as she wanted to be. But she already knew she could never be impersonal to Vincent, the way she had been to the hired hands she'd brought in to massage her so she could avoid him. She moved into her bedroom and began undressing while Vincent turned down the lights and put Sade in the stereo. The sultry sound of saxophone and percussion filled the room, followed by singing that always sent shivers down her spine. The voice somehow belonged in another lifetime. Wrapped in a short silk robe, Kira drew in a breath. She could smell jasmine oil, hot and sensual like the music, and almost wished she could be the aggressive, unrelenting robot she had to be at work, here. Then she could ignore the curl of tension snaking through her body ... or she could give into it without remorse. 36


She forced herself toward the comfortable massage table, toward Vincent, who waited with the kind of patience she'd never possessed. Easing the robe back, she watched his gaze slide over her nude body, but even that was too much for her to see. She quickly got on the table on her stomach, telling herself he felt nothing at seeing her naked. The pressure drained from her in a sigh only a few minutes after Vincent's hands touched her. He worked over her body from head to toe, thoroughly, deeply, methodically. As his fingers untangled the tiny knots in her hand, her palm, ones she hadn't realized were there until now, she wondered... What would his mouth feel like here? Her thought wasn't carnal, or even seductive, yet she grew painfully aroused at the image of Vincent pressing his mouth to her palm. Her fingers curled, and she knew without looking that he'd noticed her sudden unease. She couldn't stop herself from putting the image of his soft, firm lips on every place he massaged. The table suddenly felt sticky, overly warm as the leather soaked in the heat of her body. Her throat kept swallowing like she was parched. The depth of his caresses didn't fade, and yet she knew unequivocally he recognized the not-rigid, not-pliant tension beneath the surface of her skin. By this time, she was usually asleep. She squeezed her eyes closed tightly when he urged her onto her back and started working on her shoulders. "Where do you want me to massage, Kira?" She spoke thoughtlessly, from her heart, "Everywhere." 37


She could bear it no longer—the word simply spilled out. Immediately, she felt cooler. And hotter. He hadn't moved, and she couldn't speak. She drew herself up to a sitting position, and his hands on her shoulders sent a shudder through her. All she wanted to do was take, mindlessly, take him as if she had no active part in deciding whether or not it should happen. She could allow the culmination of dark desires she'd never been able to call wrong or right to steal her breath. She could scream on the brink of eruption, but she didn't have the strength to let it go. For an endless heartbeat, she felt like she was falling through the sky. It was only when she landed, back where she started, that she realized her thoughts weren't reality. Only another dream, this one a fantasy instead of a nightmare. Somehow Vincent seemed to know what she struggled with when she whispered his name. She needed to be in his arms, but was that even more wrong than what she seemed to want every second of every hour of every damn day? She didn't know. "Tell me what you want," he whispered, holding her hand. Wild uncertainty filled her, almost making her laugh out loud. My life is so unstable. It's always been unstable. I've done everything in my power to try to make it stable. Nothing I've done changes anything. But this ... this would change everything. I want it anyway. 38


"Would you give me anything I want, Vincent? Would you want to?" she asked over the sound of her heartbeat filling the room like the music. She imagined her expression must look like agony in her current state of mind. "I want to make you happy ... give you what you need." Kira sat up beside him, her hard nipples grazing his arm. "Would you kiss me, Vincent? Make love to me if I asked you to?" Amazingly, his expression didn't change though he couldn't be confused about her arousal or what her words implied. "Would it make you happy? Would it be what you need?" he asked, his tone thick with some emotion she desperately wanted to identify. If he said "I take care of you", she would shatter or kill him on the spot. Wordlessly, he stepped closer, his eyes locked with hers. He stroked her jawline. Then his mouth was on hers, and nothing mattered except the feel of his lips against hers. They parted, and his tongue flickered against her closed mouth. Kira opened to him mindlessly, intoxicated with the taste and scent and feel of him, at long last. His kiss was every bit as addictive as she'd always feared. He broke away first and pulled her head tightly against his chest. He offered comfort, yet Kira distinctly saw his erection straining against the front of his trousers. If Vincent has needs... She was terrified of finishing that sentence. Why did it seem crazier than the thought that he might not have any needs? 39


"I want anything and everything you want, Kira," he murmured, showing her the clarity in his expression. It was as if she'd run ... or been shoved ... right into the brick wall she'd been trying to scale for as long as she could remember. She'd known Vincent forever, yet she knew nothing about him. He wanted her ... his body did anyway— why? Did he even acknowledge to himself his own physical desire? If he did, could she give her heart to a man she didn't know? Mind, heart, soul and body ... his. One last step, and she would belong to him completely. Wrong or right. While her body urged her to take, and damn morals or consequences, her last thread of sanity forced her to toe the line. He lifted and carried her to the black satin-draped bed. The anguished look on his face when he looked down at her only made her confusion worse. She knew he waited for her to make the decision of his next move. "I'm losing my mind," she whispered harshly, tears in her eyes, as their gazes held. "I was put here ... dropped here ... and I don't know who I am. Who you are. I need to find home. I can't go on until I do." Vincent reached for her, dragging her into his consoling arms. "Don't. Don't say that, love. Whatever you need, I'll get for you. I promise." A stranger who felt like the end of the earth pleaded with her to accept his comfort. She didn't want comfort. She wanted to be filled with his scent, his skin, his body, his arousal so close but still so far from her. 40


"I want the truth. I want the answers. There have to be answers. I want to belong somewhere." "You belong with me," he said hoarsely, brushing back the chestnut curls that had fallen around her face. "Do I?" He inhaled shakily. "I belong to you, Kira. Everything I am, everything I have is yours. All you have to do is ask, and I'll give you whatever you want." But who are you? I'm asking that, and you can't tell me. Do you even know? It's not enough anymore, dammit! Staring at his mouth, wanting him to crush her softness beneath his hardness, she thought, It would be so easy. Take that last step. Reach for him. Feel his mouth and body against mine, open myself, bring him inside of me the way I've only dreamed. Complete the circle. Fulfill our destiny. Yet she couldn't do it, not when the answers would remain so far out of reach. Vincent, my beloved stranger. Not my father. Not my brother. Not my lover. The one who'll give me everything if only I ask ... everything except the one thing I want that he may or may not have to give me.

41


Chapter 6 The coppery taste of blood filled her mouth, burned her skin. Voices ... some she recognized but couldn't place and those she feared ... shouting. Gunshots pierced the silence that followed, slamming into her consciousness hard and fast and without apparent end. She couldn't breathe, not even scream, as she fought against the heaviness covering her like she was being held under water. She came up suddenly, and her scream met her desire to let it out. Instead of darkness greeting her, soft light. Instead of wetness, the dry satin of the sheets. Vincent's calming voice, his arms holding her. For an instant, the scream halted in her throat as the dream came back. Eyes—a black shade that should have been hard and unrelenting, but instead were kind and soft—meeting hers in the cold, wetness of the bushes. Vincent's eyes. Vincent in the dream, in the nightmare, whispering "I'll take care of you. I'll take care of you." The dreams weren't real, were they? Weren't memories? Then why did she want to scream over Vincent's consolation? She turned away when he whispered her name. He tried to hold her for an instant, but let her go as soon as she shoved away from him. Before she closed the bathroom door, she saw him sitting at the edge of the bed, staring after her with a haunted look in his eyes. It was at that moment she realized with plummeting dread that Vincent had the answers she needed. He had them, yet would never willingly give them to her. 42


Chapter 7 Only when the shower went on did Kira permit herself to look toward her bedroom. Some of her tension eased at the sound. Vincent hadn't slept any more than she had last night. She knew he'd given her the privacy she wanted as she pushed herself through her exercise routine, then worked throughout the night, but it hadn't kept him from listening for her and tracking her movements through the spacious rooms in her penthouse. She couldn't ask him to leave, not after her nightmare, and he'd never go unless she asked him to. Each time she thought of the intensely real fantasy she'd had while Vincent massaged her and the addictive kiss that followed, her chest tightened with emotions she didn't want to untangle. Added to that confusion was the memory of his arousal while he held her. Ruff raised his head when Kira lifted the black coffee carafe from the table, found it empty, then got up to make another pot. In the shiny marble and oak enhanced kitchen, she forced herself to ignore her fatigue while she put together the coffee. What she wouldn't give just to go lie down, close her eyes and sleep for a few solid hours like a normal person. If that was possible, she could avoid the coming confrontation with Vincent. If she admitted her feelings to him, he wouldn't be embarrassed. She knew that. Any more than he'd been when he caught me watching him shower when I was eighteen. 43


Her treacherous heart reminded her of the incident. He hadn't said a word. It was as if nothing had happened, and yet she'd never forgotten it. From that day to this, she'd become aware of him in a way from which there could be no turning back. She filled Ruff's water and food dishes, which brought the dog running, then opened the cupboards, searching for Twinkies. All the cupboards were full; the fridge was stuffed with her favorites. Vincent had gone shopping for her recently—how had he known she'd be back soon? The expiration date on the milk was two weeks from now. She hadn't told a soul she was returning. She'd decided on Friday morning, and it'd all been arranged in a matter of hours. Yet her cupboards and refrigerator were packed. "Why don't you let me make you an omelet?" Vincent said behind her when she'd found a box of Twinkies he probably hadn't wanted to purchase. "Why did you go shopping and fill my kitchen?" Her scowl had no affect on him. "Everyone needs to eat. Including you. Although I wish you were more healthy." He eyed the cream-filled cakes disapprovingly. "When did you do this?" For an instant, he merely stared at her with his unfathomable gaze, and her discomfort increased. He wore jeans with a tank top, and she couldn't help remembering ... God ... remembering what her breasts felt like last night against the steel wall of his chest. He'd been aroused when they kissed. 44


"Why does it matter?" he asked softly. It mattered, damn her long-honed instincts of wanting to just ignore conflict again instead of confronting it. "Tell me." When he advanced toward her, she felt each step like a judgment. He took the box, set it on the counter and closed his hands around hers. "I monitor the flight schedules of your jet when you're using it, Kira. Any good assistant would. There's nothing underhanded about it. As soon as I heard you were on your way back, I got your apartment ready for you." Vincent always did this. The only difference in this particular case was that she hadn't let anyone know when she was returning from her extended trip. While she couldn't get herself to look at him, she couldn't get herself to pull away either. Why did he have to have such a smooth, muscular chest? Such wide shoulders? Why did his hair have to look so sexy when it was wet? Why did she have to notice? And why did looking at his mouth make her so damn needy? They hadn't done anything wrong. She hadn't. Vincent wasn't her father. He wasn't even old enough to be the father of a grown woman. And there was only a six-year age difference between them. She'd gnawed on all of those considerations for as long as she could remember. Nevertheless, there remained no way to reconcile them in her mind with her overwhelming craving for him. "There's nothing I wouldn't do for you, Kira. Anything between the two of us would be right. The only thing that could ever be wrong is if we're not together." 45


He said it almost like he'd read her mind. Like he'd spoken to himself as well as to her. Why doesn't he suggest I need to see a psychiatrist? She was insane. Her entire life was insane, and not a damn thing made sense to her. No one understood her at work. She had no friends. All she had were employees who excelled at their jobs because she demanded nothing less than one hundred percent of them every day, and who avoided her as much as they possibly could. And she had Vincent, who—for God only knew the reason—seemed to understand her insanity. Maybe he doesn't suggest a shrink because he doesn't want me to find out why I'm the way I am? The unexpected thought carried with it a coldness that made her withdraw from his reassuring touch. She saw him flinch as she rounded the oversized black marble island, and wouldn't allow herself to consider it once she was on the opposite side from him. "I can take care of myself, Vincent. Go home." "I'd rather stay. We can go over—" "If you stay, you can tell me about the day we met. You found me when I was about ten. Where? Where did you find me? Where were my parents? Why were you there?" He swallowed with difficulty, his hand clutching the hard muscles of his abdomen as if it was churning and he wanted to calm it. He shook his head, just as he always had. "I don't know." "How can you not know? Didn't you go to the police? Couldn't they tell you anything?" 46


"No." Is he lying? Why would he? She fired more questions at him. "I don't remember anything before you appeared. We didn't live in New York then though, did we? Where are we from?" He didn't want to tell her. She could see that plainly in his eyes as he sighed in exasperation, ducking his gaze from hers almost angrily. Then he responded, almost grudgingly. "It won't help you to know. I did everything I could to find out who you were, who your parents were. No one knew anything. The best thing you can do is forget and go on with your life." How could she forget it? She couldn't remember any of it, but she couldn't just forget. "You won't tell me then?" She almost couldn't bear the sadness in his face when he looked at her again. "If I did, you wouldn't know any more then than you do now. I don't want you to get hurt." "Why would I get hurt?" "Kira, you want answers when there are none. The further you dig it all up, the deeper your dissatisfaction. I can't protect you when you get too far down." "Maybe I could find something when you couldn't. Maybe it's worth a little pain if I could find something." "You can't," he said with conviction, his tone hard. "If I couldn't find anything, you won't." "You were sixteen years old, Vincent. Right? Isn't that what you told me? What makes you think the police would 47


give a sixteen-year-old kid information like that? Where were your parents? Why did the authorities let you have me?" She remembered very little, but those first memories were of Vincent, re-locating with him every few weeks, until they came here. She hadn't asked for answers then, or for years afterward. The only place she'd felt safe was with him. He'd warned her that asking questions could mean someone might take her from him. That wasn't something she'd been willing to risk. If ever anyone wanted to escape a situation, it was obviously him. He shook his head, his fingers raking through his hair hard and ruthlessly. "No one knew I was only sixteen. I was on my own." "At sixteen?" "Yes, at sixteen." "How could that be?" He shrugged. "When you have parents who want you to disappear, they're too relieved when it happens to bother looking for you." Kira swallowed with difficulty as she digested this. He'd never spoken of his parents before. "What parent wouldn't want their own child?" "My parents divorced when I was too young to know what was happening. My old man got custody, even though it seemed like he blamed me for the divorce. Within a couple years, he remarried, to a woman who had her own sons. She didn't want me. I was in the way. So I left. Made it easy on all of them. They never came looking for me." 48


Was he disturbed by the facts he set out so baldly? She couldn't tell. But when she went to him, put her arms around him and pressed her face against his back, he muttered, "I didn't care about them. I didn't belong there. I found out where I belonged when I found you. Nothing else matters to me." Kira couldn't help wondering how unusual it was for a troubled teenage boy to feel such protectiveness for a young girl. It was unusual, but then a part of her understood. She'd trusted Vincent the moment their eyes met. She'd spent a lifetime wanting only him, asking few if any questions, being content with the simple acknowledgement that Vincent would take care of her and be with her always. Why wasn't that enough anymore? She knew he wondered why it wasn't. No, Vincent wasn't her father, but he was the only father she'd ever known, young as he'd been. Turning her into his arms and lifting her face to his, he said softly, "If I could give you the answers, I would, love. But I don't have them. None that would make any sense. I don't need to know where you came from to know we belong together." A part of her wished she could be appeased by that. The desire to forget everything except how right it felt to be in his arms was stronger now that her awareness of him as a man had become honed. How could he look so sure they belonged together? How could she doubt it? She wanted to kiss him, and that wasn't a comfortable feeling. Not when his thumb traced the habitual pout of her lips and all the blood in her body went straight to every nerve 49


ending. She was hypnotized by his intense expression as he traced his thumb across the seam of her lips and they opened to him helplessly. She held her breath when he bent and kissed her forehead and her eyebrows instead of her mouth. Just as he hadn't done anything when he caught her watching him shower, he wouldn't kiss her unless she asked him to. "I'll make breakfast," he said. "Then we can do whatever you want to do today." They would work. That would keep her from thinking. From wanting. From remembering sitting in this very kitchen seven years ago, drinking coffee, listening to the shower, and realizing she wanted to see Vincent in it. Seven years ago, she'd been a lot bolder than she was now. She'd wanted to, and so she had. Vincent had taught her to take what she wanted confidently. The bathroom door hadn't been closed, so she'd gone inside and saw him in the spacious, locker room-style shower stall—without any door or curtain to block her sight of him. Only a glass partition that hid nothing. Kira had grown up with very few children around her. She hadn't attended elementary or high schools. She knew nothing of rebellion, hormones, flirtation. Vincent led a sexless life. She only knew of sex what she'd read about it and what Vincent told her matter-of-factly when she asked. Going to college had been a whole new experience for her, not necessarily a good one either. She didn't understand her fellow students at all. Most of them were irresponsible, reckless, directionless, thoughtless and, in many cases, 50


immoral. She learned more than she wanted to about the unfettered sexual indulgences of these people who were the same age as her, yet nothing like her. Adults—adults with careers, responsibilities, ambitions, very little trust in others ... these were the people she was drawn to and felt most comfortable with. As a young teenager, for Kira sexual exploration had been more about unsatisfied curiosity—what was this emotion that had so many people up in arms? What was love? Sexual love? Why was it in all the fiction books? Movies? What made people want to run wild and go from one lover to the next? For that matter, what made people want to stay with one person for the rest of their lives? It was what Kira had been wondering that moment, what had compelled her to get up and go look at Vincent, the only man she really cared to look at. Her always intellectual mind expected to be disappointed with her experiment, believing nothing at all would happen as a consequence. Embarrassment had never occurred to her. And during those first few moments of seeing a man who meant everything to her without his clothes, without anything except streams of hot water and soap sluicing over his flawless skin, she hadn't been embarrassed. She'd been enraptured. She'd watched his muscular arms as they'd gone about the mundane chore of soaping up. She'd watched the way his hard stomach muscles had contracted and tapered when his arms raised. He was put together in a way that the men in 51


the movies she'd watched, the magazines she'd looked at and the textbooks she'd read weren't. With her breath suspended in her throat, she'd noticed how the cords in his neck met his collarbones, noticed his flat brown nipples, his tight, rounded buttocks above muscular legs, the line of hair that trailed down his stomach and met the more abundant hair of his pelvis, out of which his male organ—so, so different from the clinical photos she's seen— sprang, semi-erect and, shocking as it was, ... beautiful. No wonder women were so fascinated with the male body. No wonder women wanted to touch men. Astonished humiliation filled her when she realized she'd wanted to be touched as well. By the very body she'd viewed. She'd inferred in the silence following the shower turning off that Vincent had seen her watching him from the moment she stepped into the room. He'd offer no lurid invitation, not even a welcome. He wasn't that type. He'd simply accepted her presence. Her examination of him as a man. Even when he'd reached for a towel and pivoted to face her, she hadn't been able to move. The fact that he felt no inclination to cover himself, to look ashamed or horrified had told her in their wordless gaze there were no boundaries, taboos or inhibitions between the two of them. Everything had changed for Kira at that moment. For the first time in her life, she'd comprehended what all the hoopla over love, sex, desire, irresponsibility and immorality, consequences and monogamy was all about. And yet she hadn't been able to find the element within herself that insisted any of those things would be immoral between her 52


and Vincent. She'd told herself they had to be wrong. He wasn't and didn't feel like her father or brother, and yet they'd been together forever. They weren't related, but they were bound to each other irrevocably. Didn't it have to be wrong? The dream she'd had that night, the one she'd woken from hot and aching in a way she'd never experienced before, had decided for her she had to leave. She couldn't stay in the apartment with Vincent now that things were different between them. Different for her, in any case. Vincent had surprised her about that, too. When she'd told him she was moving out, he shook his head, calmly explaining it made more sense for him to leave. She'd been so thrown by his compliance, she'd agreed to keep the penthouse while he looked for a new apartment. The separation hadn't made her life easier. If anything, things became more difficult. She'd been accustomed to talking to him about everything, at any time. She'd been used to him being there when the nightmares came, soothing her in tender ways that couldn't translate in a simple telephone call. He lived only blocks from her, on the Upper East Side, but it seemed like a galaxy at times. He came to her on invitation or with an excuse to do something for her. Never before had she dealt with loneliness that an educated mind couldn't will away because it was illogical to feel. Her only consolation was that when she worked, Vincent worked. There was comfort in his nearness. There had been anyway, until recently, when her mind again began to question him, her, them. 53


"Are you going to work today?" he asked as they ate across from each other on the island. She nodded. "When's the last time you took a vacation?" he asked, well knowing. "I don't know what a vacation is." "Relaxation." She looked at him coyly. "I only know the dictionary definition of that word." He smiled a little, and her heart warmed at the sight. "What would we do?" She realized she'd said 'we' as if her mind couldn't conceive of doing anything alone. She'd vowed to learn to live by herself, take care of herself, make some normal friendships. Maybe even have a relationship with another man. Fall in love. Never mind that she couldn't imagine any of those things. "Take a walk, eat out. What do you want to do?" So normal. That was what normal people did. Normal people didn't go to work at four o'clock in the morning because they didn't want to sleep for fear of dreaming. Normal people didn't work until nine o'clock at night with very few breaks in-between. Normal people ate at specified times throughout the day instead of eating when they remembered because they were near collapse. They didn't plan every minute of every day for at least a year in advance. Normal people didn't work weekends. They relaxed on the weekends. Spent time with friends. They did things for themselves instead of merely filling the hours. "I want to take a walk, eat out." 54


"I can set it up for you." Kira shook her head. "Vincent, I don't want to plan today. Let's just be together and see what happens." When he nodded and reached back to put his plate in the sink, she saw relief in his eyes. Telling herself she shouldn't do this, she nevertheless went to get ready for a day she was looking forward to, not knowing what was going to happen until it happened.

55


Chapter 8 "Let's go see a movie," Kira suggested. "We haven't done that in such a long time." "Are you hungry?" They'd been shopping most of the morning, though neither of them had bought anything. She shook her head. "We can have a meal after it's over, then grab a cab, go back to my place and get Ruff so we can all take a walk." "Sounds like you're planning things," Vincent said, smiling again. Kira threaded her arm through his, and she felt more like she had when she was just a kid and Vincent was the sun and the moon and the stars to her. "Ah, but at least I'm planning fun things." It wasn't that Vincent was uptight or too serious. No, if anyone could qualify for that, it was her. When she was younger, he'd always been trying to get her to smile. His sense of humor infallibly saved her from fear, sadness, and depression. Things had changed since she'd worked so hard to prove to the both of them that she was a woman, especially after realizing he was a man, not simply male. He hadn't stopped trying to make her smile. She'd stopped allowing him the opportunities and ignoring the efforts he made. When she looked up at him while they walked out of the store, he met her gaze and she had no doubt they shared the same thought: I've missed your smile. 56


Maybe this is what we needed, Kira thought after they decided on a romantic comedy proving both hilarious and sexy, Not for me to withdraw, but to try to get back what we used to have. But ... what's to stop me from wanting ... ? Her throat tightened on the all-encompassing word 'more. She couldn't decide which wrong was worse—for her to want more or for Vincent to give her more. Would he bestow it out of love or duty? Why would he even feel a duty toward her? Especially since he claimed he didn't know who her parents were or where she'd come from. Abruptly, she wondered if he'd told her about his parents that morning to distract her from asking him questions he didn't want to answer. The thought of someone treating him that way had made her too protective to pressure him into opening up further. While she couldn't imagine Vincent lying to her, she could imagine him sheltering her, even from herself. Surprising her, Vincent glanced down at her in the darkness as if he'd noticed her attention no longer focused on the movie. She felt guilty for being the one to spoil the fun they were having together. Concern filled his eyes in the flickering light of the movie screen. No, I won't spoil this day. If I have to withdraw ... I'll do it tomorrow. Kira snuggled into his arms, her head against his chest, and he relaxed. As she settled into the movie again, she became aware of his warmth, the way his laughter vibrated in his chest, the caressing motion of his fingers against her skin. He didn't seem to notice how close his hand was to her 57


breast. The soft cotton of her top created friction as it shifted over her bare flesh beneath. One of the hook-and-eye closures moved back and forth over her nipple like a fingernail, gently rasping. Her breathing became ragged. What would it feel like to lie next to Vincent, feel his bare skin against hers? He'd slept in his clothes last night while she'd worn nothing except the sheet. She'd slept for probably a half an hour—thirty minutes she knew he'd remained awake in case she dreamed. Her body tightened with need at the irresistible curiosity of whether he'd noticed her nude body against his. How long had he been aroused? Getting an erection wasn't ... couldn't be ... something a man achieved out of a sense of duty, could it? It had to be genuine. He'd told her that nothing between them could be wrong, yet her mind kept insisting something had to be forbidden about it. She simply couldn't accept as easily as Vincent appeared to that it was perfectly natural for her to lust after a man who'd been her 'guardian' for fifteen years. What did she even know about relationships anyway? Very few of the people she knew were married. They were either divorced or heading for it. Commitment was a word that had fallen into extinction. She'd known people who were cheating on the people they were cheating with. Happiness in any relationship was short-lived. Love was temporary, sex could be selfish even when emotions were involved, and that was something that seemed to be mutually accepted by both parties. 58


Maybe there wasn't a 'normal'. Maybe she was the only one creating roadblocks here where there shouldn't be any. They ate dinner at a quiet little cafe in Little Italy, talking thoughtfully about the past as well as the highlights of her trip to Rome while she sketched the people around them. As soon as the mention of actual work ahead of them became imminent, Vincent steered them away from it into a totally different direction. **** Ruff was eager to leave the apartment when they took a cab Uptown after dinner. The early spring weather was cool, but she refused Vincent's suggestion of a jacket. Ruff stood waiting for the elevator to open on the ground floor as though revving his engine for that 'Go' signal. He lurched out, dragging Kira behind at a sprint before she got control. He took them toward the park. As Ruff sniffed every garbage can they passed, Kira asked a question she guessed Vincent would try to sidestep: "You're a man, Vincent. Why don't you need a woman?" He stopped, and she did, just as abruptly. Ruff stretched out on his generous leash to find a place to do his business in the alley, and Kira wrapped both of her hands around the leather. Vincent leaned against the building on one side of the alley. "I need you. I don't need sex." Why did he need her? He was the giver in their relationship. "Can you shut it off?" she asked quietly. 59


"Yes." Many men didn't seem capable of that. How could Vincent shut down his basic needs? Yet she didn't doubt him for an instant. If any man could, it was Vincent. "How do you shut it off?" she asked. His eyes were so mystifying in their candidness, she found she couldn't look away from him. "Discipline. I can want and not have." She understood that, in part. She'd spent what felt like a lifetime wanting things she could never have. "Why would you do that?" He didn't look anywhere except into her eyes. "Because the only thing that makes me happy is making sure you're happy. I don't need a single other thing." Who was she to have so much power over his life? What had she ever done to warrant it, deserve it, or even require it? "I don't want you to sacrifice for me, Vincent. I've never wanted that. I've never asked it of you." "You don't have to ask me. I do it voluntarily." "Why?" He didn't shake his head and avert his eyes in discomfort, the way most people would have. Maybe a part of her wanted him to do that. She didn't want him to know why he did it. Then it could be one of those senseless things people did without knowing why they did it. No, she didn't want to know Vincent sacrificed for her because he had a mission, a purpose, something that drove him to fulfill some basic requirement. 60


She rebelled inwardly as his expression pleaded with her to accept his sacrifice freely. "Don't be afraid," he said softly, like he saw fear in her expression. She bristled at his words. He added some more. "I love you. That's all. From the moment I laid eyes on you, nothing else mattered. Don't be afraid of that. You're under no obligation," he assured her. He wanted her to just take it, as if he was some robot or someone she could give orders to, expect things from, but she never had to give anything in return. And that was what she'd done, wasn't it? Spent a lifetime receiving from him, never giving back. Who are you? she wanted to scream at him, not ask him in a whisper the way she had last night. How can it make sense that you're equally satisfied by something, nothing or everything? Maybe he was a robot. What else explained him? As they left the alleyway and walked ahead in the direction they'd been going before, two men stepped out of the shadows of the next alleyway. Kira saw the glint of silver in both of their hands, and Vincent shoved her forcefully behind him. Ruff, a puppy she'd considered the sweetest in the world, growled deep in his throat, surprising her. "Kira, run," Vincent ordered in a low voice. Even in the darkness, she could see the drugged eyes of the men and couldn't get herself to listen to Vincent. They were looking for a fix. One a night watchman cap waggled his fingers at them, demanding, "Give it up. Now. Hurry." 61


They want money. We're being robbed! Kira comprehended in utter shock. They'd lived in New York for almost fourteen years. She'd never faced anything like this. But then she'd spent a lot of years going back and forth in a limousine. "Turn around and walk away from here." Vincent's words, Kira realized. Vincent had said that, in a menacing tone similar to the one coming in a rumble from her dog. Why wasn't Vincent getting out his wallet so they could walk away in one piece? The other thief sneered, his eyes narrowing. "Give it over. You wouldn't want this pretty thing to get hurt. Would ya?" His partner in the cap leered at Kira as though he wouldn't mind having his hand forced. What happened next couldn't have taken longer than thirty seconds. Kira didn't have time to scream or tell Vincent to give them his money. The capped guy was out cold and the other one was on the sidewalk with his arm twisted behind his back. Both of the knives were in Vincent's hand. How it happened, exactly what took place, Kira couldn't explain. She couldn't fail to notice their attackers were each at least a hundred pounds heavier than Vincent, respectively, yet it made no difference. Vincent had taken care of them as if they were weak children. He leaned closer to one of them to say, "Next time I won't be so polite." After throwing the weapons in the gutter, he put his arm around Kira, steering her back down the sidewalk toward her 62


penthouse. She looked back over her shoulder once, wondering if their attackers would follow, but neither did. Vincent knew how to fight. He knew how to defend himself beyond being a crack-shot at the range. She knew he worked out, but she'd had no idea how strong he was. Or how fast. He'd taken on two large men at the same time and won. Easily. It wasn't until they'd stepped off the elevator and made their way to her door that Kira realized Vincent was upset. His face was hard, his breathing harsh. Once inside her penthouse, she was afraid to speak while she waited for him to say something. When he did, the words were sharp and bit off. "Do you remember?" "Remember what?" she asked, astonished—though maybe she shouldn't have been. They'd been held up at knife-point. They were entitled to be upset. "Remember ... make like a mole." All the air left her lungs. Blackness rushed at her like a live entity that dwelled in her past and waited impatiently to be resurrected. She wanted to forget, not remember. She never wanted to remember those words again, for as long as she lived.

63


Chapter 9 "No." Kira shook her head, turning away from Vincent. She unhooked Ruff from his leash, and he went immediately to the kitchen for water. "That wasn't real." She wouldn't allow herself to believe it had been real. It was a nightmare from her childhood. A nightmare where she'd entered the subway tunnels below Grand Central Station and descended, going deeper and deeper into pure darkness. All around her had been the sounds of small animal feet scurrying, the smell of life. Death. The feeling that she hadn't been alone. She'd held her breath at first, but she'd realized getting there and coming back out would take too long for her to continue doing so. All she'd had to do was concentrate on following Vincent's voice. As implicitly as she'd trusted him, she couldn't help wondering, What if we can't get back out? What if we're lost under here? What if someone tries to hurt us? What if I have a seizure? She'd closed the small distance between her and Vincent whenever she'd thought that, and she'd understood each time that he'd wanted to reach for her, make sure she'd been there. Yet he hadn't... Not intending to, Kira closed her eyes and the darkness surrounded her again, suffocating in its heaviness. Not real. Dear God, please ... not real. Her chest was so tight, she couldn't draw in a breath. Vincent took hold of her shoulders firmly, whirling her around to him. "Kira, look at me." 64


His voice was harsh, but she shook her head at him stubbornly. "It was a dream, dammit. A nightmare. I don't want to remember it, Vincent." "We have to have a plan. Some place we can hide if they try to take you away from me," he'd said so many times—the very words that would make her do anything he asked. Even the things which terrified her. "It wasn't a dream. You have to remember. Do you remember? Do you remember exactly what I told you? How to get there?" After suppressing it for so long, trying desperately to forget how many times Vincent had led her into the underground tunnels of the city when she was eleven years old, she remembered every single detail, despite herself. They hadn't gone blindly into the tunnels. Vincent had spent endless hours showing her rough maps, patiently going over everything until she'd memorized each turn, the number of steps, the distance with her eyes closed, as though in darkness. She'd walked it. She'd done it all by herself—once, the very last time he'd asked her to go. She'd gone, collapsed on the way back, but she'd somehow come back all by herself. What had taken only a few hours, she'd had nightmares about for weeks, whenever she allowed herself to close her eyes. Yet he'd insisted it was necessary to do it over and over ... until she told him about the seizure she'd had in the tunnels. She'd never forgiven herself for telling him of her weakness, but she'd been too relieved to have all of that over with to regret it. 65


She nodded and instantly heard his sigh of relief. The agonizing need to scream, as wildly as she had when she finally emerged from the darkness to find him waiting exactly where he said he would be, came over her again. Just like then, Vincent held her so tightly, she'd realized he'd been as afraid as she'd been. "Kira," he said softly, his compelling voice leading her out of the darkness once more. She opened her eyes to find his expression that maddening cross between tormented and firm. "I'll never ask anything of you again—I promise—but I need you to do this one thing for me." For a moment, she marveled that the man who hadn't asked a single thing of her in thirteen years was now asking for the one thing she might not be able to give him. "What?" she asked in a hoarse whisper when she could speak. Vincent stroked her jaw gently, but she knew he did it to make sure she didn't try to look away from him. "When I say those words—when I say 'Make like a mole', promise me you'll do it. You'll go. I'll never say them until I absolutely have to. And I hope I never have to." Could she do it? Could she heed the Pavlovian response she seemed to have to those words? Could she ignore what the words compelled her to do? Both of his hands clutched her face as he waited impatiently for her answer. The desperation she saw in him rivaled that of when she'd come out of the tunnels alone. How could she refuse him the only thing he'd asked of her for so long? 66


"Kira, please, promise me. Please." When I say those words—when I say 'Make like a mole', promise me you'll do it. You'll go. I'll never say them until I absolutely have to. And I hope I never have to. I'll never say them until I absolutely have to. Absolutely have to. Her mind kept hinging on the nonsensical things he said. If it wasn't a dream, then his words, 'We have to have a plan. Some place we can hide if they try to take you away from me', were real. He expected someone to try to take her away from him. After all these years, he still believed it might happen. When she couldn't take the questions battering through her mind, she shoved him away. "Why?" Her own anger surprised her. She kept her voice soft. "Why, Vincent? Why would we ever have to hide? No one could take me away from you. Not anymore. Why did you make me promise that now, when there's no danger at all?" Never before had she seen Vincent the way he looked now, even in the moments he'd found her, when she'd been taken away for a short time, but he'd returned for her. She'd always believed him to be capable of carrying the very weight of the world on his shoulders. Now he looked as though he'd done that for so long, he was terrified he might not be able to do it anymore. But that wasn't something he could accept from himself. He sat on the bamboo serenity bench, putting his head down. His fingers clutched at his scalp harshly. Had their runin with those guys who'd tried to rob them upset him so 67


much? More than she'd thought? He'd reacted calmly. Ruthlessly. The failure she'd felt as a teenager ... the invalid girl with the strongest man in the world watching over her ... came back painfully. Oh, how she'd hated to be weak! More than anything, she'd wanted to be as strong as he was. "Answer me, Vincent," she demanded. "I don't know!" he barked through clenched teeth, astonishing her with his impatience with her. "What do you mean?" "I mean, I don't know if anybody would ever try to take you from me. I don't know if the ... that danger is past. I can't take the risk that it isn't. I have to be ready. Every second. I have to plan for it." She couldn't help it. She laughed and knew instantly she wasn't helping his tormented state of mind. She sat next to him on the bench. With her hand on his shoulder, she said with rational impatience, "Vincent, if anybody wanted to hurt me, they would have done it long ago. If you don't know where I came from, then you named me. I have a whole new identity. How could anybody ever know I'm that little kid? It would be impossible." "Maybe." It was all he would concede. "If anyone wanted to take me away from you, they couldn't. I'm a grown woman, not an invalid who can't care for herself anymore." He sat staring hard at the golden beige reed of the floor, but she knew he didn't see it. 68


"You don't need to protect me from anything anymore, Vincent," she insisted, wishing he could understand how his need to protect her made her feel. He was strong—she could accept that; she admired it. But he didn't have to protect her. She was capable of protecting herself. He'd never given her the opportunity tonight. And, no, she wouldn't have handled the situation by taking on two drugged creeps at the same time the way he had, but she and Vincent would have come away alive. He faced her wearily. "Just keep your promise, Kira. That's all I'm asking." Whatever he thinks might happen will never happen. If my promise eases his mind, I'll give it to him. I know he's so used to protecting me and being on-guard he doesn't know any other way. "I could have handled it," she said quietly. "I know," he told her with reassurance in his tone. "Do you believe it?" "Yes." She needed his confidence and didn't pursue why he was so sure she'd have handled the problem. "How did ... I mean, those guys were both bigger than you and there were two of them." "Size doesn't make a bit of difference," he said automatically, as though he was teaching a lesson. "You have to understand your opponent. Sum him up in an instant. Find a weakness. They were both drugged. Their reaction times were decreased. Mine wasn't." "Where did you learn to do that?" 69


He shook his head vaguely, glancing at her. "I'm sorry they spoiled our day." He didn't want to talk about it. Neither did she. "So am I." With one hand, he smoothed her hair. "You look tired." "So do you." He smiled faintly, drawing his face parallel to hers. She could smell perspiration mingling with his cologne. He was fallible. He had a weakness. She didn't know whether to be angry or excited that she was his one weakness. But when his lips brushed hers, her body felt too heavy to sort out the implications. Kiss me. Reach for me because you want to, she thought wildly when his mouth slid against hers once more. "Will you come to bed with me?" she asked, not caring what her gaze might be telling him. His tone sounded hoarse as he agreed without hesitation, "As long as you want." Something so familiar suddenly felt impossibly intimate as she went to her room while he locked up the apartment. Slipping out of her clothes and under the sheets, her body felt overly warm. Husbands and wives, lovers, do this every night. Sleep in the same bed. Vincent and I have done this so many times, for no other reason outside of my comfort. Everything's changed now. Helplessly, ignoring the alarm in her head, she watched him pull his shirt over his head. God, she wanted to touch him. How would the well-defined muscles in his stomach feel beneath her fingertips? Under her lips? 70


Kira's breathing was ragged by the time he joined her under the sheet in just his jeans. She felt stupidly disappointed when he didn't take her request for him to come to bed with her as an invitation. An invitation to more than ease his body parallel to hers and draw her into arms so sweetly. "Thank you for today," he said, his mouth against her hair. Kira pressed her face to his chest to keep him from feeling the shudder rippling through her, wanting more than his words. For a long minute, she simply closed her eyes, feeling Vincent's heartbeat against her ear, wondering what it would be like to explore his magnificence unencumbered with inhibitions or uncertainties. "If you could have anything in the world, what would it be?" she asked. "And my happiness and safety doesn't count." "It's all that counts," he murmured, and she thought he would leave it at that. But he took a deep breath before continuing, "Sometimes I wish we could just leave here. Go some place nobody knows us—a deserted island ... or some frozen wasteland nobody ever visits." He chuckled, and Kira's heart squeezed in her chest at the rich sound. "Just the two of us. Just disappear. That's what I want more than anything." Of all the things she'd expected him to say, it wasn't this. Did he love her so much? Why? What had she'd done to deserve it? She made everything difficult for him, sometimes just because it was simpler for her than to complacently accept what he gave so freely. 71


"I always intended that," he said, his gaze as soft as his tone. "But I knew you needed ... stability. Roots. As many as I could give you, even if it couldn't be enough. We could just leave now. Just go. Go anywhere in the world." "What about KGI?" she asked under her breath, stunned by the words that made no sense, yet made perfect sense. "It's autonomous now. The board of directors can run it. Megan could—you know she's been pushing things in that direction for years anyway. You'll still maintain your leadership ... and the profits. We'll just have a certain amount wired into an account every month." He was serious. As serious as she'd ever seen him. Would he answer the questions she had about their pasts if they went away together to some secluded place on the globe? Would he require some 'plan of safety' at this new place? Or would he finally relax his guard? What kind of love would possess a man to accept anything or nothing from the woman he wanted to disappear from the world with? No ordinary love, that was certain. And my love for him is the same—it's no ordinary love. In the silence that followed, she knew he wanted her to say something, respond to his words, but he would blame himself for failing her if she gave him the truth. She didn't want to hurt him. "Now you. If you could have anything in the world, what would it be?" She shook her head. "I don't know." "Yes you do," he urged. 72


She'd found it easier to avoid honesty most of the time. Easier to lock everything up inside her, as if that could take away her needs, her desires, her perpetual frustration at not knowing the first thing about their origins. Lock up her love for this man. For a long moment, she stared up at him, reacting to his gentle caresses on her cheeks, jaw and chin. Then she spoke, each word painful. "A home. A place to belong. A place where I know ... I fit. It's where I have to be." Vincent surprised her again when he tucked his face against her, not letting her see his reaction to her words. She felt the tightness of his body, and then she accepted she'd hurt him just like she hadn't wanted to. He'd spent his life— fifteen years of it anyway—trying to give her a place to belong. A home. She'd just told him he'd failed to provide her with that which she wanted most of all. She knew he didn't want her to realize how much pain his 'failure' caused him. Kira couldn't bear the realization he must be crying, even if only inside. He held himself in so rigidly, and Vincent never allowed himself any release. How could she heal him? How could she undo her words when he couldn't doubt she'd spoken from her heart? Tell him you love him. That you want to be with him. In all ways. Any at all. And she did. She loved him more than she could accept. Wanted to be with him even if it was wrong. Still, she couldn't speak and give him what he needed. 73


"I belong to you, Kira. Everything I am, everything I have is yours. All you have to do is ask and I'll give you whatever you want." Vincent had found where he belonged, something she'd yearned for desperately all her remembered life—something that made no sense whatsoever to her because she did know where she belonged, as surely as he did. She belonged with him, and that was what unnerved her more than anything else.

74


Chapter 10 Her breathing was slow, but Vincent knew her sleep wasn't deep. At the moment, just having her in his arms was all he could ask for. Kira didn't like talking about the past—the things he'd had to set up and carry through to keep her safe—but she wanted answers. How much longer could he put her off? Kira had no idea what he'd gone through to give her whatever she wanted and needed in his single-minded pursuit to keep her safe. The two had become one thing in his mind. When she'd said she wanted to live separate from him, he'd given her what she wanted, but he'd arranged multiple ways for him to protect her from a distance. When she'd wanted to start a fashion business and made it a success in hardly any time at all, he'd been there every step of the way. She hadn't allowed him to talk her out of her trip to Rome, or into taking him with her, so he'd protected her the only way he could. Everything she wanted, she got, but not once had he compromised her security. For fifteen years, he'd forced himself to continue his daily workout, his marksmanship, his surveillance from every angle. He took every precaution when it came to Kira's safety, including having a multi-layered back-up plan if they had to disappear quickly. He'd also kept a close eye on their back trail to make sure no one was following their scent. All of the channels had been clear. Kira was right—no one had come for a decade and a half. And no sign whatsoever that the search for them had 75


continued. Yet his instincts remained too honed to simply assume the two of them were completely out of mind just because they'd been out of sight for so long. He couldn't relax now. He would rather die than let anything happen to the only person in the world he could allow to matter to him.

76


Chapter 11 "They're real estate agents. They sell islands." "Islands?" Vincent shook his head. "I just looked at some that were for sale. I didn't say I was buying one." The memory nagged at Kira all Monday morning. She'd thought she'd put it past her four years ago, when she'd argued firmly with herself that Vincent was entitled to his own life and his own secrets. This particular secret had dug at her incessantly during their trip to Miami, to set up the first branch of Kira Gunn Industries. Vincent had insisted on the location—Miami, Florida—saying it was an ideal place. Yet, during the trip to get things established, Vincent had disappeared repeatedly and without explanation. At times, he didn't return all night. At one point, she'd been unable to contact him via cell phone for most of a day, but he'd finally called her after her numerous voice mail messages. She met him at the airport, where he deboarded a plane with a young man and woman, followed by another woman who'd apparently been the pilot. He'd rushed to her immediately, demanding to know if everything was all right. Coldly, she'd told him, 'No', and headed back to the car. Everything inside of her had boiled in a strange mix of rage, unspecified betrayal and hurt. She'd wanted to beat on him until the truth tumbled out of him. That was when he'd told her about the islands and real estate agents, a story she hadn't believed at the time. The 77


young man and woman who'd disembarked before him had been little more than high school-aged kids. But she'd asked herself why he would lie to her. At the same time, she'd wondered why he couldn't have told her the truth about what he was doing. She'd wondered if his explanation covered all the absences during that time. From then on he'd always made sure she could contact him if she needed to, and she'd forced herself to accept his story and let her uncertainty fade. Now it nagged her again. Just one more mystery on a long list of mysteries where Vincent Carson was concerned. Lately, her mind seemed intent on tallying her inventory of them. "Gorgeous," Megan Hague's voice made Kira drop out of her relentless thoughts. Megan had been the very first designer Kira hired, straight out of Parson's School of Design. As Megan touched and viewed the fabrics Kira had brought back with her from Rome, her crystal blue eyes filled with awe. "I'm already getting ideas for the summer line. This one: A soft purple negligee, bold in color yet gossamer as a spider web..." Kira watched her employee sift through the fabrics, slowly and lovingly. Normally, she would be barking orders, demanding extemporaneous ideas from Megan on the upcoming line, requiring a deadline for the first group of flats. Today, she felt something she'd never felt before—lazy. Depressed. Heavy. She didn't want to be here today. Anger and fear always seemed too close to the surface as her mind 78


tried to put together a puzzle when a great many of the pieces were missing. She'd woken that morning after hours of trying not to, saw Vincent watching her, and heard him say, "You slept for an hour. You didn't dream and you didn't seize." While it'd happened before, it was rare, and she always felt she'd narrowly escaped something when it did. "Did you sleep?" "Enough," he'd said simply. "How do you feel?" She'd murmured something, then went to shower. The last thing she'd wanted to tell him was the truth. She felt confused. Angry. Vulnerable. Needy. Each time she saw Vincent today around the office, she felt all of those things. It didn't help that, during meetings, she'd caught Vincent staring at her wistfully. "I can see why you two were gone such a long time now," Megan said, and Kira dismissed the words until they rang back to her, forcing their way through her other thoughts. "Two?" Megan looked up from another table of gorgeous fabrics, destined to be the talk of the fashion world when the new line was released. "You and Vincent. What was it? Three months? Two to three weeks is usually what you're gone." Was Megan confused. Why did Megan think Vincent had been in Rome with her? He'd been here. Kira knew that for a fact. She'd talked to him countless times on the phone. "Vincent wasn't in Rome with me. He stayed in the city." 79


Megan frowned, brushing long blond hair behind her ear as Kira rounded the table toward her. "Well, he might have been—" "Ms. Hague, your secretary is looking for you," Vincent said coldly from the doorway. Kira watched Megan leave the fabric room, wanting to call her back. She turned to Vincent. "What was she talking about? Why would she think you were in Rome with me?" "I don't know." Why didn't she believe him? At the same time, she couldn't believe Vincent would lie to her. What possible reason would he have for being anywhere but here, where she'd needed him to take care of things on this end? He'd never shirk that responsibility. Megan had to be confused. Yet it niggled at the back of her mind for the rest of the day, taking precedence over the Miami mystery her mind had been gnawing on that morning. How could she trust Vincent with her life, believe he truly wanted to shelter her, yet she was certain he was keeping secrets from her? How could she love him with everything inside her and, at the same time, be so afraid of letting go and allowing herself to have what she wanted—what maybe even Vincent wanted? How much longer could this possibly go on?

80


Chapter 12 "Do you have the portfolio from the senior-year student attending Parsons?" Kira asked of Vincent when the daily financial meeting concluded and they were alone in her office the next morning. Frowning, he told her in a distracted way, "It's at my apartment. I can get it at lunch. Or we could go together and get it then." Across the hall, his phone rang. Relieved, Kira told him to get it and they would talk later. She called to have her limo meet her out front, then slipped out as soon as Vincent was distracted. As she rode the few blocks from Kira Gunn Industries' Madison Avenue office and retail, she realized she'd never been to Vincent's apartment without him. She had the keys, but the times she'd been there had been only long enough for him to grab something or to change his clothes. After telling her driver she'd call him when she was ready to leave, Kira went inside with her head buzzing. On his floor, she unlocked both the deadbolt and the regular lock with separate keys, then pushed inside. The darkness was almost total. She groped for the switch. While she couldn't imagine Vincent becoming angry about her being here without him, she couldn't escape the feeling she was invading his privacy. She located the portfolio almost immediately on the credenza in the living room, but looked away from it to really take in the personality of his apartment the way she never had before. 81


The furnishings were utilitarian. Black sofa and chairs. Basic oak tables and bookshelves. The only thing that stood out was the over-sized armoire entirely covering the longest wall of the room. It was locked. His desk was very clean. No bills, but then she knew his penchant for paying things immediately. No paper trail. She stood, indecisive for a moment—then passed a milestone. Vincent couldn't remain an enigma. She needed to know more about him—much more. Kira began her search at his desk. She didn't find an address book of any kind. She found herself running her fingers over the books on his shelves, wondering what Vincent read. Nonfiction exclusively. Many of the titles were meaningless to her. They gave no clue to what the books were really about. Others were more obvious: self-defense, coping with phobias, trauma psychology, guns, seizures, dog training, various computer programming and repair guides, military tactics, even some memory loss and gaining confidence titles. Confused, she looked for a stereo and CDs, but found no music whatsoever. His computer equipment was state of the art with so many extras, she couldn't begin to guess the myriad of things he could use it for. He'd asked countless times if he could teach her about computer hacking, shell programming, telnet programs, port surfing, encryption, and gaining root. He'd set up the LAN Ethernet system at KGI himself. Kira had resisted anything related to computers and the Internet, outside of the basics. She couldn't explain her reluctance to learn more when her mind thirsted for 82


knowledge of all kinds. Somehow her temptation had felt so much like getting too close to a pain that could destroy her. It was senseless, but she hadn't been able to tell Vincent the truth, especially since the truth made no sense to her either. Hesitantly, Kira pushed the button to boot one of the computers in what Vincent called his hacking lab. A screen that didn't look anything like her desktop came up. A small box implicitly demanded a password. Kira tried her name first and got another box, telling her she would be viewed as an intruder if she didn't get it right next time. She didn't guess right, and the screen went totally black. Frowning, she shut the computer off and moved over to the television. An allnews channel came up. His kitchen held no surprises at all. All was just as utilitarian as the living room, almost appearing unused for longer than the past few days he'd been staying at her apartment. With a feeling of yielding discomfort, she went through his medicine cabinet in the bathroom. His bedroom consisted of nothing more than a bed, a nightstand and lamp, a dresser and his clothes hanging in the closet. Save for the clothes, she could easily have believed no one actually used the room. Berating herself only lightly, she opened each drawer of the dresser, looking through everything. Then she opened the small drawer on the nightstand. Paper, pens, a gun—loaded, with the safety on. Unfathomable instinct had her feeling beneath the bottom of the drawer, where her fingers met with a small object, taped in place. When she pulled it loose and brought it out, she saw a key. 83


She removed the tape from the key, running her index finger along the cut of it. The armoire. What could be in that huge armoire? What would he keep locked and out of sight of any guests he might have? What guests did Vincent have? She would be willing to bet she was the only other person who'd ever been in his apartment. So what would he keep locked and out of her sight? Steeling her resolve, she turned toward the doorway leading out to the living room. Opening that armoire wouldn't merely be walking through his apartment, sneaking a peek in his medicine cabinet. She would be invading his privacy in the worst way. Would he be angry at her if she opened it? She couldn't imagine that. Whatever she wanted to do, he encouraged. The key might not even fit. What was the harm in seeing if it did? She'd just look. She wouldn't touch anything. Quickly, before she could change her mind, she marched into the living room and shoved the key into the lock. It fit, turned easily, in fact. All she had to do was pull. Maybe he had a theater system, though she couldn't picture him providing such entertainment for himself. An immense stereo system, since that seemed to be lacking elsewhere in the room? What else could it be? In her hesitation, she noticed that the armoire was wider than it was tall. The doors were bi-folds, with hinged panels every three feet or so. Once she opened each side, they would fold up and she could push them back into the slots on 84


either side. Then whatever was inside could be viewed without obstruction. Kira's heart beat so wildly, she almost felt silly. It'd probably be nothing. Something so ordinary, everyone had one and she just couldn't think at this moment what might fit in such a large cabinet. Removing the key, she put her fingers in the rectangular indention and eased the right door back. "Oh God," she muttered faintly, not even realizing she'd spoken out loud as she revealed guns. Many different kinds. Hand guns, semi-automatic and pump shotguns, rifles. There was even an illegal machine gun. Stacks of ammunition, both in steel boxes and smaller cardboard boxes, for each make and model, were stored below the guns on the floor of the armoire. Is he expecting a war, right here in this claustrophobically small apartment? Why? She knew Vincent liked guns. 'Like' wasn't really the word for it. He seemed to know a lot about them. He was comfortable around them, with them, as though he used them often. Maybe this was simply a collection. Her gaze moved across the rows of weapons, held in place on a cushioned liner at the back of the cabinet. Were there guns across the whole of the cabinet? But she saw the glint of something—glass?—in the shadowed darkness on the left. She put her fingers into the indention on that side and pushed back. The panels folded, then fit into the slot on the end when she shoved them back. Confusion filled her mind totally as she stared at the equipment before her. Screens, 85


electronic equipment she couldn't begin to name, let alone guess the uses of, lined the shelves. For a few minutes, she merely stared at it all the way a person who had no aptitude for math might stare at a jumble of numbers when asked to come up with answers. If she'd been in someone's office or another person's apartment, she would have been mildly curious about what all this was for. But Vincent had put these things here. He used the system for something. As she stared, she realized there was something familiar about it all. She'd seen something like this elsewhere, but she couldn't place where at the moment. Her eyes began to focus on the actual components individually instead of as a whole, and she saw that some of the buttons, switches and screens had words on them. 'Kitchen-K2V', 'Bedroom1-K3V', 'Limousine-1A', 'Office-KGI-1K', etc. 'KGI' obviously meant Kira Gunn Industries. She couldn't guess what everything else meant. After she read each of the machines and screens, she saw some of them overlapped. There was more than one 'Bedroom1' tag, for instance. There were four different tags for 'Bedroom1', but each one had a different number and was followed either by an 'A' or a 'V'. Kira turned and went to the couch. She sat down, then began opening the drawers on the oak apothecary type table in front of the couch. In a moment, she'd found a series of remote controls. She stared at each of them for only moments before she made the connection between the letters and numbers on the buttons of the remotes corresponding 86


with the letters and numbers tagged on the screens. Then she aimed the remote that had listings of 'KGI' at the screens, pressing the button labeled 'KGI-1K'. She aimed the remote from shelf to shelf until a screen popped on one. She looked upon her own desk in her downtown office. She could clearly see the half eaten Twinkie she'd opened a couple hours ago there—the financials from the meeting just before she'd left. This was a ... a security system of some sort. That was why she recognized it. Though she'd only been in it once or twice, her offices had an area with a similar security monitoring system, on a much larger scale. Guards sat in the equipment-stuffed room, checking video displays and audio systems to make sure everything was safe on the office levels and the retail store below, from the third floor down to street level. Cameras covered each hall, office and the store. Naturally, the only areas in the building that didn't have cameras were the bathrooms and dressing rooms. Kira pressed another button on the remote, and another screen came to life. The private bathroom in her office. Bathroom. There was a camera in her bathroom. One connected somehow to this security system. Why would anyone put a camera in the bathroom of her office? Why would Vincent? Why would he monitor her bathroom or her office when there were already security systems in place within the building? She set down the remote and picked up another, this one labeled 'K-A', aiming it aggressively. A red light glowed on one of the components, but nothing else seemed to happen. 87


After a minute, she picked up another remote and saw the backseat of her limousine. There's a camera in my limousine. With another remote, another button, yet another screen flared to colorful life showing her bedroom in her penthouse. She pressed every button on the remote and a row of screens, showing rooms in her apartment at all possible angles, lit up. Wildly, she pushed all the buttons on all the remotes, then sat gaping in horror. Not merely seeing anymore, but hearing as well. She heard the click of Ruff's fingernails on the linoleum in her kitchen. She saw him and then heard him drinking from his dish. At the same time, she saw and heard her secretary come into her office and put a file on her desk. Vincent had ... he'd bugged—wasn't that what he'd done?—every part of her life. He could watch her, listen to her, whenever she was in her apartment, her office or the limousine. No wonder, she realized, feeling completely exposed and vulnerable and not liking the sensations at all. No wonder he always knows when I have a nightmare, when I'm upset or I need him. He's always knows when I cut my legs shaving or I'm lonely. God, no wonder! And no wonder he didn't want me to move out of the penthouse, if he's had something like this set up for some time, so he always knows where I am and what I'm doing. When the trill of a cell phone sounded, she didn't recognize it as coming from her until it continued for several long minutes. Then she fumbled to retrieve it from her purse. 88


"Yes?" she said, her gaze still on the screens. "Kira, where are you?" Vincent asked, not frantically, but worry edged his tone. I'm out of his sight at this moment. He can't see or hear me, and it worries him. She couldn't speak as she wondered if she should tell him she was on her way. She would close up the armoire, pretend she'd never seen any of it ... or she could confront him. Then what? "I'm ... at your apartment," she said unemotionally. In the heartbeats of his pause, she wished he'd bugged his own damn office so she could see his expression. "Did you need the portfolio right away?" he asked warily, or what sounded that way. "Yes." "Did you find it? Are you coming back? Or should I come there?" Kira's mind raced. He couldn't refuse to answer, not this time. Not with all of this to force him to. He would have to give her some kind of explanation for the invasion of privacy he'd breached—so much worse than what she'd done when she came to his apartment today and looked through his things. To think she'd felt guilty about looking through his medicine cabinet and dresser drawers. "You should come here," she said, suddenly sure of herself. He paused again, as if noticing something in her tone. Then he said, "I'll be there in about ten minutes, barring traffic." 89


Did he want to say 'Don't touch anything' before he hung up? She couldn't be certain. Once she replaced the phone in her purse, she didn't feel the slightest qualm about going through the other drawers in the table in front of her. Most of them were empty. Some had rolled magazines and newspapers. Some had ammunition for the gun she found in a drawer. Was he merely paranoid about her safety? Obsessed with her? What answer could fit all this? Fit his tenderness? Fit his ultimate desire of whisking them away to some deserted place to hide from the world? It all seemed horribly wrong now. The years of only needing and wanting desperately to be together, to stay together at all cost. What were they running from? If they were hiding, then why had he allowed her to start such a high-profile business? Why did he want to leave it all behind now? Was he just trying to convince her to need only him, to go away with him, away from the rest of the world and any danger? He must have sensed her withdrawing from him for months, just as he'd known she'd stayed in Rome for so long, hoping to get her head on straight concerning him. She was more confused than ever about him, herself ... about them now. She'd been right last night. This couldn't go on much longer.

90


Chapter 13 She hadn't moved from the sofa when he came in. She didn't glance away from the monitors to look at him either, but she felt his shock nevertheless in the soft curse that drained from him like blood from a wound. "Are you going to tell me that this isn't what it looks like?" she asked coldly. She should have been furious, but the sense that her entire life was a lie, was built on mysteries that couldn't or wouldn't be explained by anyone but this man, kept her guarded. "You've been monitoring my life—every part of my life ... for how long?" Surprising her, he knelt in front of her, putting his head down on her lap. She saw the torment in his expression before he hid it from her. Seeing a shudder work through him, she swallowed at his pain but couldn't let this go. "I want to know why, Vincent." He looked up, his face crumpled with a grief she couldn't understand, no more than she understood anything he did. "You know why." What's his answer every single time? She didn't hesitate: "To keep me safe?" He nodded. No shadow of doubt entered her mind on the fact that he wished she would simply accept his motivation and go on as though it was nothing out of the ordinary. "What am I in danger of, Vincent?" He shook his head. "I don't know." 91


"Then tell me what you suspect, dammit. I walk around in the dark all the time, assuming I'm safe from all sides. I have no idea what my attacker might look like. But you seem to believe there'll be an attacker. Tell me what you suspect of him. It." As if he couldn't tolerate any more, he reached for one of the remotes and switched everything in the cabinet off at once. When he turned, his arms went around of her thighs. Angering her further, she felt her body react to his proximity. "Don't tell me you don't know again!" she said sharply, thoroughly anticipating his plan to do just that. "You owe me something for this." She waved her hand angrily at the security system—such a misleading reference in this case. After a moment he seemed to believe she would stalk out and he might never see her again. He nodded. "You want an answer. All I have is ... pieces." "I want them." His jaw tightened, and he drew breath through flared nostrils. "The night I found you, you were in the bushes on a deadend street. There were some men there. One of them was killed." "The gunshots," she realized instantly, "in my dreams." He nodded. "Who?" "I don't know. All I know is you were there. There was no identification. No one seemed to know who you were. But someone was killed. If that someone was related to you, then 92


whoever killed this person might know about you. They might come after you." Her chest felt painfully tight as she said carelessly, "It's been fifteen years." "And I covered our tracks well. But it wouldn't be impossible for someone to find us." "Why would anyone kill my father?" she asked without conscious thought. Vincent's eyes narrowed. "Why did you say your father? Do you remember something?" "No." But she felt it. Voices ... some she recognized but couldn't place and those she feared ... A word she reached toward but couldn't call forth stuck in her throat. Daddy. Daddy, let's go home. Let's go. "Kira?" "It was my father. I don't know how I know that, any more than how I always knew how old I was, but ... I know this." "Do you remember anything else?" Her dream came to her, but with no clearer interpretation than the countless times she'd seen, heard and felt the same things over and over. She shook her head when the images faded. "Does it help you to know anything more?" she asked. Something flickered in his eyes, yet he denied he knew anything more. "Why didn't you tell me any of this before?" she asked. He snorted, standing. At the hardening of his face, she barely recognized the warrior before her. 93


"Because I don't know a goddamn thing. There's nothing to tell. But I can't relax for the same reason. Especially now. If it was your father who was killed, I was right all along. You're in danger. You could be if the person who killed your father knows about you." Kira withdrew at the anger in his tone, unsure whether it was directed at her. "Why were you there, Vincent?" He'd gone to the cabinet and closed the doors. "Wrong place at the wrong time," he muttered without looking at her. When he did face her, his tone was much softer and the tender man she knew was back. "But then I found you." "Does that make it worth this?" she asked. "Hiding all these years? Living in fear?" They'd moved around constantly for a year, never in the same place for longer than a few days, until Vincent had said they were staying in New York. Once his 'plans to keep them safe' were in place. "Yes." "Why?" "How can you ask me that, Kira?" How could she not ask? It made no sense that he was merely at the wrong place at the wrong time. A teenager who wasn't wanted by his family, stumbling across a kid and suddenly realizing his mission in life? Finally belonging? No. He claimed he knew nothing, yet he still kept secrets. She took a shaky breath. She couldn't be angry with him. Her anger would crush her own soul along with his. 94


"Vincent, were you in Rome?" His jaw tensed as they stared at each other, both nervous, across the breadth of the room. "Yes." "The whole time?" He nodded, and she heard the lack of shame as he explained. Even after being caught, he continued to believe what he'd done was utterly necessary. "I flew back as soon as you called in your order to get the jet ready in two hours." "And you had a set-up like this..." she motioned toward the cabinet, "...there, too?" "More intricate, so you could call my office, apartment or satellite phone and always be patched through." "What about my apartment?" "What about it?" "What's hidden there? To keep me safe?" The touch of sarcasm in her voice went unnoticed by him. He swallowed, seeming to quickly add up the logic of telling her more. "Your dog," he said finally. "What?" "He's been trained to defend you, with a single command from me." Wild-eyed, Kira began, "How—" "There's a remote in his collar, if he's with you and I can't get to you first." Explaining why he'd immediately given her another dog after the death of her first. Explaining why Ruff had turned from sweet pup to a killer when they'd been threatened Sunday night. 95


"Is that all?" she barely whispered. "Your apartment is fully stocked," he added briefly. "With a collection like this one?" she guessed, pointing to the right side of the cabinet, where the guns and ammo had been. He nodded. "Where?" "There's a panel behind the bookshelves. The button to open it is on the underside of the mantel." Kira's face flooded with heat, and she looked away from him. If the dreams I've avoided for years are real, then all of this isn't merely a nightmare. It's genuine. The seizures I was plagued with had to be caused by emotional trauma. But how genuine can the threat be? We've lived in peace for fifteen years. This man she loved, who she was unwilling to live without and couldn't imagine deceiving her, was a stranger. That fact was impossibly clearer than it'd ever been to her before. And if he was a stranger, how could she be sure he really was protecting her? For all she could remember, he might be the person who killed her father. Savior or devil in disguise? She stared at him, wondering. "Kira—" he began softly. "Will you get rid of all this?" she asked, stumbling to her feet, ignoring the pain she heard and saw emanating from him. In agony, he shook his head. "I can't. I can't risk it. If anything happened to you—" 96


"What if something happened to me, Vincent? What would happen then?" "I would never forgive myself." She withdrew again on another wave of confusion. "I love you, Kira. I would die for you. You have to believe me." In one heartbeat, she did believe him. That, she'd always known. But in the next, she knew she had to get away from him. Get away from Vincent. Escape her beloved stranger. Somehow.

97


Chapter 14 Vincent closed his eyes, not moving from his knees on the floor, where he'd sat before Kira until she walked out of his apartment. He'd spent so many years trying to keep her past from her. She didn't need to know, he'd told himself. What you don't know can't hurt you. But what she didn't know had been hurting her all along, and now his secrecy had left her feeling he'd betrayed her. For so long, she'd believed the nightmares that came when she closed her eyes weren't real. As much as he wanted her to remember so he might have the chance to discover who the enemy really was, he'd never been able to let her face those nightmares alone. Her memories of that night had come back in part, yet he still couldn't put a face to the enemy. Andy Sheppard, a loyal, stalwart operative for as long as Vincent had been in the organization, was Kira's father. How, when operatives weren't allowed to have relationships inside or outside? It wasn't simply marriage or children that were forbidden. Recreational sex was discouraged outside of a mission since even casual sex could lead to love or other loyalties. If Andy Sheppard was truly Kira's father, then who in God's name was her mother? Vincent couldn't fathom an operative continuing a relationship in secret outside the organization. Was the mother a civilian, someone Andy had known a long time, or someone he'd known for a brief time and never seen again after the act was done? 98


As much as Vincent believed in the directives of the organization, he knew the lines were blurred between wrong and right. Operatives were effectively robots; they had to be. If the security of the Network was at stake, nothing else mattered. Anonymity presided over all else. Innocents might be 'neutralized' in order to preserve their invisibility and remove the threat of exposure. If Kira's mother had posed a threat to the Network, she would have been neutralized. Yet Kira's birth had somehow escaped their notice—how? Vincent's superiors had wanted to drop her in an orphanage after surgically removing her memories. Now he knew why. Because Vincent had taken her before they had a chance to remove those memories, the risk she'd remember something her father told her about the organization made her a security hazard. They would never stop hunting her. Vincent put his hands over his face, rubbing his eyes. She'd insisted that after fifteen years, there was no threat. She didn't know the enemy the way he did. He couldn't shut his most basic instincts off, even now, when there was a chance that Kira wouldn't want him in his life after seeing all the surveillance equipment he had on her. He had to be in her life though. What else was there for him?

99


Chapter 15 For Kira, walking into her apartment that night was like walking into a stranger's home. Vincent had asked to come home with her after work, and she'd shaken her head only once, unable to look at him. Whether or not he felt guilty for spying on her the way he had been so long, she couldn't doubt he did believe through-and-through that it was crucial. He wouldn't stop either, regardless of the fact that she would now be aware he watched her. As she closed the front door behind her and locked it, she wanted to turn and run. He would find her if she did. There wasn't a place on the earth he wouldn't find her. She wasn't safe from his eyes either. Was he watching her now? Ruff greeted her enthusiastically, and she bent to him as usual. After an instant, the clear memory of Vincent's words— Ruff's purpose—made her withdraw even as she told herself it shouldn't change anything. Like Vincent, her dog just wanted to protect her. And yet she felt exposed and vulnerable to both of them. The trust she'd had, blindly, was shattered. Is he watching me? Her anger fired at the thought, especially when she realized she was also aroused by the same thought. He'd made her helpless to him. Made her a prisoner. In her home. Her office. Her limousine, for Pete's sake! Stalking through the foyer, she dropped her briefcase on the kotatsu table, then went to the mantle of the fireplace. Groping with her hand, she found the button so easily, she had to question how she'd never noticed it before. A whirring 100


noise came from the left row of bookshelves, and an entire panel moved out, shifting to the side and opening a cavern she'd never realized was in the apartment. Had Vincent created it or had it been there all along? She didn't remember him doing any carpentry when he decided they were going to stay in New York, but then she probably wouldn't have noticed. He could easily distract her with new books or educational toys so she barely looked up for days. Knowing he probably watched her at this moment, tensed about it, she moved into the cavern. Ruff barked at her, as if he was warning her of danger or worried about her. The darkness only gave Kira glimpses of the gray walls. She felt along the edges of the walls, searching for a light, then felt a string in her hair. Reaching up, she tugged at the string and the single bulb overhead came on. The cavern was deep, big enough for four or five people— even with the stacks of ammunition and the guns, all makes and models, semi-automatic, pump and automatic, completely enclosed except for the 'door'. She searched and found supplies in two of the large steel ammunition boxes— imperishables, flashlights, water, an unbelievably small laptop, sat phone, and some other electronics she couldn't name, as well as a fully-stocked first aid kit. There was even a modem hookup. Standing, she noticed the gray material covering the walls again. It was hard, yet almost spongy—bullet proof? Even with her extensive knowledge of fabrics and materials, she couldn't guess what it was made of. 101


Ruff whined from the living room. Kira turned and saw two switches on the side wall. When she flipped the first one, the panel of the bookshelf slid back into place. Her dog sent up a racket of barking as she was closed into the space. The back of that panel was made of the same hard, spongy material. Even if someone—an enemy—knew about this, she had the feeling Vincent had made the cavern both bullet-proof and impenetrable. When she flipped the second switch, she heard a set of loud, heavy clicks, almost as if something was released. When she pressed it again, she heard them retract. Then she understood. If someone on the outside pressed the button under the mantle, they wouldn't be able to enter because of the 'locks' Vincent had put in place. Kira also recognized that this was a temporary hiding place or a last-ditch defense. Though an enemy couldn't get in, all they had to do was wait. There were a limited amount of supplies in here. Sooner or later, the occupant would starve, die of thirst or have to come out. Can he see me in here? Vincent would have no reason to put a camera here, would he? Her visual and manual search came up with nothing. She was only beginning to acknowledge that Vincent had expertise most people didn't possess and couldn't fathom. If she'd never noticed the cameras or audio systems in place throughout her apartment, it had to be because they were so tiny or so camouflaged, even if she came across one she wouldn't have figured out what it was. 102


She flipped the first switch again, the panel slid back open, and Ruff rushed to her. Is Vincent breathing a sigh of relief? She emerged, going to the mantel and pressing the button to close the panel once more. Then she knelt down by Ruff, calming him with her strokes, even as she searched for the clasp of his collar. The bejeweled leather didn't look any different from any other dog collar. But after running her fingers over the diamonds, she felt the difference in one. It looked like a diamond, but the surface was scratchier. Was this the device through which Vincent could say the word that would turn her dog into a killer intent on protecting her? Swallowing, she closed her eyes and clearly remembered the direction each of the screens in Vincent's apartment had seemed to be pointing. They weren't moving cameras. They were fixed, which meant there had to be places where he might not be able to see her—a hall, a corner, closets—even though he could hear her. Laying aside the collar, she stood and went in the direction one of the screens had seemed to cover. Ruff whined his distress at her strangeness tonight. First, she took down the Ensozen print on the wall. The irony of the print near where the camera had to be wasn't lost on Kira. 'Circle of Infinity, Circle of Simplicity, Circle of Beginnings, Circle of Endings, Emptiness with Fullness. All things visible. All things unseen. To end and to begin—circle of life'. Her life, connected to Vincent's—a man she didn't know at all. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary on the print, not even a small indication. She set it aside, and removed two Buddha masks, followed by the hanging plant. Again, nothing she 103


could detect. She ran her hands over every inch of the wall at the height the screen had projected into her living room. Her index finger advanced once over a minute bump the same color as the wall, and she back-tracked to it. The bump was oval shaped. Could a camera really be this small? And produce such clarity as the screens offered? It had to be a camera, impossible as it seemed. Now that she knew what to look for, she went in search of more and found them one by one, as many as the number of monitors he'd had for her apartment. Each blended so well, it was no surprise she hadn't noticed them. When she tugged at the last one gently, she found a fine wire connected to the back of it. The audio and video systems were under the walls of her apartment. She didn't have to think about it for longer than a minute to remember when Vincent had put her up in a hotel for two days after she'd agreed she'd stay in the penthouse while he found another place. He'd insisted on having the walls freshly painted and the carpets taken out and replaced in the Japanese style she'd admired at a celebrity acquaintance's home. Apparently he'd also had the walls torn out first for the security systems. She'd never had a clue it'd all been for her safety. Vincent had also been the one to point out the logic of buying her own limousine and hiring full-time drivers instead of using a service. The company jet was no doubt just as bugged as everything else.

104


After pushing the camera wire back into the wall, she wandered back to the living room, her chest heavy with oppression. Was anything safe? Was there a single way she could escape his eyes and ears? If she went to a restaurant, could he track her there? Her gaze fell on her briefcase, and in another minute, she'd emptied it on the table. She found a strange, tiny device in the lining, then she dumped her purse out. Inside her wallet, she found another device. She would always have her wallet with her. No matter what she did, where she went, he would be able to find her. Did he have her body bugged, too? While her first instinct was to tear from room to room, ripping out every one of the cameras; rip out the very walls, she knew Vincent would be here in a few minutes and he would insist it all be put back. Somehow he would convince her it was utterly necessary. Besides, she knew her anger stemmed mostly from the feeling that he'd put her in a helpless position. Kira heard her dog in the kitchen, nosing his empty food and water dishes around the floor, and she forced herself to get up and feed him. If Vincent was trying to protect her, then should she want to escape? But how could she live like this? Surrounded, trapped, unable to make a move he couldn't track? God, she was tired. She wanted to sink down on a sofa, but her living room was filled with only cushions and benches and the sensuous matting—a design she'd always thought fit 105


her need for informality. Right now, the thought of lying down on her bed, where he could watch her, was too unnerving. In the end, she switched off the shoji lamps and lay on the living room floor with her head on a pillow. She closed her eyes, yet she still felt out of control. The worst part of it was the hum flowing through her body when she thought of him watching her ... watching her sleep, shower, eat, pleasure herself when she was lonely and wanted him. How could it make her feel both humiliated and aroused? Ruff came and settled next to her, though she knew he wanted to run around and play. Vincent had a teenager walk the dog during the day and most evenings. Piper—that was her name. Piper had taken Ruff just before she got home, Kira knew. Where had Ruff been while she—and apparently Vincent—was in Rome? She'd assumed Vincent took care of him on his own. Her hunger and fatigue got the better of her, even with the discomforting thought of being watched. She dreamed only after a hard sleep, like the hard sleep she'd taken the night before, when Vincent had been with her. The dream was the same as always, no pieces fit together, but Vincent was there. He was there suddenly, in the wet, cold bushes. She'd trusted him immediately because of his eyes. The gentleness of his eyes, when everything else was dark and confusing. He'd assuaged her horror when no one else could have. But the dream moved past that point. Vincent, holding her in his arms. A man approaching—did she recognize him? She couldn't be sure. He had short, blond hair and was extremely tall. Vincent had argued with this man, consoling Kira the 106


entire while with a soothing caress on her back. And then the man had taken her away, and Vincent promised her he'd come to get her later. She'd screamed as Vincent handed her over to this man, reached for him, and saw the torment and anger in his eyes. Kira woke to hear her phone ringing. Her body was covered in cold sweat and her heart beat painfully in her chest. She instinctively tried to go through her calming techniques to ward off the possibility of a seizure, but couldn't clear her mind enough to remember the steps. Vincent. He knows. Knows I dreamed. Does he want me to dream? Or is he afraid my memory will come back? Why have I never questioned that before? Why do I wonder now? With an effort she sat up, and she remembered his interest when she'd told him the man who'd been killed was her father. Why hadn't she dreamed more about that? Was it because her body was so used to sleeping only in short snatches, she hadn't given herself the time to dream more? Would the truth come back to her in dreams? "Kira? Are you ... are you all right?" Vincent's voice filled her apartment from the answering machine. "Do you want me to come over? Hell, why would you? You're not having a seizure—it passed, didn't it? Don't shut me out. I'm sorry it has to be this way. Trust me. Please don't torment yourself. Let me be there so you won't be alone if you remember something." He paused, as though waiting and wanting her to pick up. "You know where I am if you need me," he added softly before he hung up. 107


Her instincts all told her to trust him, but maybe those instincts had been trained, just as her dog had been, to do Vincent's bidding. Vincent wasn't who she'd always believed him to be, and there was a chance he was the enemy. He wanted to keep her from remembering the hard, cold facts about him. He wanted to be with her when she remembered in case... She couldn't finish the thought. Didn't want to imagine Vincent could want to destroy her. But what did she really know? Until she was able to remember, she had to assume she couldn't trust him. Her only memories seemed to come in dreams. She needed to sleep, long enough to allow the memories to come. But if she did, the seizures might come back. Sleeping pills. When she was fifteen, in an attempt to stop the seizures that had claimed her every night, Vincent had given her sleeping pills. His thinking was logical—if the seizures were caused by emotional trauma, nightmares, then if she slept too hard to dream, she wouldn't seize. What neither of them expected was that she'd slept so hard she'd begun screaming uncontrollably and he hadn't been able to wake her for over five minutes. She hadn't seized though, but Vincent had been too terrified to try it again. Switching on lights as she went, she dove through the apartment until she yanked open her medicine cabinet. The prescription bottle was still there, hidden by cotton swabs and floss. It wasn't until she'd pried open the top of the bottle, ran 108


water into a cup and started shaking the pills out that she realized Vincent was probably watching her. Her gaze went to the camera no doubt fixed on her now. He would come if she pulled it out of the wall. He would come if he saw her take these pills. Kira put the tranquilizers back in the bottle again, capped it, then slid it into her pocket. Were there cameras in the hall outside her apartment? Yes, she remembered a screen. She could take them in the 'bunker'. There was no camera there. If on some off-chance he hadn't seen her come in here and get the bottle, he wouldn't know she'd taken these in order to sleep. If he realized something was wrong while she was under the influence of the pills, maybe by then she would know whether or not she could trust him. But he would wonder why she was in the bunker. He would see her go in. What other choice did she have, though? Unless she went to the ground floor of the building or out on the street. Took Ruff out, though Piper had taken him not long ago. If she put his collar back on, maybe Vincent would assume she wasn't doing anything out of the ordinary. Just taking the dog for a quick walk. Not trying to escape his prying eyes and ears for one moment. "Ruff, let's go for a walk, boy," she called, trying to sound normal as she emerged from the bathroom. She put on a jacket, then ducked into the kitchen to get a bottle of water and Ruff's leash. The pills would work quickly, Kira realized as she left the building with Ruff, who was excited to be out again. Her stomach felt empty. She would suffer for this, but she had to 109


do it. She wouldn't sleep again tonight without the help of these pills, which she took as soon as she could shake some out of the bottle. Three wouldn't hurt her any more than two, she figured. She would feel terrible tomorrow, but she had to know the truth. After swallowing the pills, she only risked going around the block, allowing Ruff to do his business, before she went back inside and upstairs. Overly conscious she wasn't completely alone, she started undressing. That was when she heard keys in her locks. Oh dammit, Vincent was here. He knew or guessed. She couldn't hide the anger she felt when he burst in, his face revealing nothing short of utter chaos. He'd run all the way here, she realized. He flew past her. She heard him rip open her medicine cabinet, rummage around, then he came back with a bottle. "Come into the bathroom and drink this," he demanded in a tone she knew meant he wouldn't take no for an answer. He held emetic out to her. "Why?" "If you don't drink it yourself, Kira, I'll make you do it. Don't make me hurt you. Please." She couldn't help remembering how he'd taken down the two addicts who'd tried to rob them on the street. "For God's sake, Vincent, they're just sleeping pills—" she started. "Drink it now!" As he stared at her, she knew she had no choice. He wouldn't allow her to sleep heavily, to dream and possibly find out the truth about him. Angry and resigned, she went back into the bathroom and drank the emetic. 110


Vincent held her tenderly as her stomach immediately gave back the pills and everything else that wasn't attached. "Is that all?" he asked, seeming surprised by only three bright pills in the toilet after five minutes of intense vomiting. Furiously, she nodded, wanting to lie down. Was it that he didn't want her to dream? Or that he thought she'd been trying to kill herself? After he flushed the toilet, he knelt beside her, flinching when she pushed away from his support. "You're never going to trust me again, are you?" he asked softly. She couldn't speak. Her throat hurt too much. Dragging herself to her feet on her own strength, she rinsed her mouth before collapsing on her bed and closing her eyes to the emotions she didn't have the energy to consider. Tenderly enough to make her scream, he covered her with the sheet. Trapped. Like a hapless fly in a spider's web. How could she ever escape him?

111


Chapter 16 Disentangling herself from Vincent—without him knowing it—was as impossible as she'd known it would be from the start. Besides the way he watched her like a hawk at work and no doubt in her apartment and the limo, Kira discovered the next day just how neatly and thoroughly he'd infiltrated her business since she'd asked him to be her assistant. How it'd come about, she couldn't say, but all of her accounts—business and personal—were in both of their names. Each contract stipulated that any withdrawals above $1000 a day were to be reported to Vincent immediately. His connections seemed to be everywhere. She inquired of those in charge of the company jet about whether or not Vincent would be informed of all flights, and they told her he was to be contacted without delay when any plans at all were made. When she tried to book a flight on a regular airline, Vincent came into her office not five minutes later and asked her about it. She promptly canceled it, certain that any means of transportation she tried to secure would alert him. She considered how she might go about getting a fake ID or a passport, but knew that would be outside her means. When she'd asked him casually at lunch how he'd gotten them new identities, he'd told her exactly what she expected him to: "It wasn't easy. You have to know what you're doing." "And you knew?" He'd nodded. "How?" 112


"Before I left my old man and step-family, I was in trouble a lot. I got pretty good at breaking the law and getting away with it." She'd seen the suspicion lurking in his eyes, even as he'd revealed this, and vowed she wouldn't alert him again. If Vincent knew how to make the two of them disappear the way they had years ago, he would also know how to find someone anywhere they went. She didn't have a chance against him. Her acceptance of that came easier than she wanted it to. A large part of her didn't want to escape him. A part of her couldn't forget all he'd given her—love, security, happiness. She couldn't forget how much she felt for him. She wanted to see him as a monster, someone who'd ruthlessly pillaged her privacy, taken her life from her while he used her for his own secret purposes. But every time she caught him looking at her, she'd have had to be blind not to see that he was silently begging her to forgive him. To trust that everything he did was to protect her. If he didn't love her, he was a damn good actor. The finest. On the most basic level, she missed him. Not merely his presence, because he'd bugged her home and watched and listened to her every second, making her feel like he was there. No, she missed his touch. His arms. His smile. She even missed the trust she was uncertain about giving to him now. Foolish as it was, she wished she'd never found the surveillance system in his apartment. Even after she'd accepted she couldn't escape Vincent, she knew she had to. The fact was, finding the security system 113


was the best thing that could have happened. What else would have motivated her to question his loyalty to her? She would have continued on with their unusual relationship. Perhaps they would have made love eventually. It was better that she faced he could be her enemy now, while there was still something she could do about it, despite her lingering ache for him. She hadn't been able to sleep after he gave her the emetic last night. Alone in her bed, she'd pieced together some things. Not memories. She knew the man gunned down had been her father, somehow she knew that, yet she had no idea what he might have looked like or what he did for a living. She couldn't be sure of their relationship, but she felt they must have been close. Why were the two of them in that place on that night? She'd come to the conclusion that the trauma of seeing her father gunned down had led to her seizures and her memory loss. She remembered being taken from Vincent, crying, being put in some white room that felt like a basement in hell, with just a bed. Someone had brought her food and milk. She remembered asking for him—she hadn't known Vincent's name then. Realizing that there'd been a time she hadn't known his name stunned her into acknowledging Vincent Carson couldn't be his real name. He would never have taken the chance of using his real name when he got them new identities. She'd slept in that white room. Hours later, lights still blazing in the room, he'd appeared, silent as a ghost, and put his finger to his lips. In a whisper, he'd asked her if she 114


wanted to be with him, to stay with him, and she'd said with the innocence only a child could manage, 'Forever'. He'd known exactly what he was doing when they disappeared into the night. She could never hope to do the same. Unless... Could she think like Vincent? Kira glanced across the hall from her office to Vincent's. She'd located all the cameras in her office and private bathroom today. He'd even caught her doing it, but hadn't said a word. His office door was open, but she didn't think he was in the room. If Vincent was in her position now, needing to disappear just long enough to discover the truth inside his own head, how would he do it? He would find money, and do it without alerting anyone. All of her accounts were in his name as well as her own. If she withdrew a lot of money, even over a period of weeks, he would probably be notified of it. But his accounts... Kira rose from her desk, went to her door and looked out into the hall. It was empty, as was his office. She crossed the space. Would he see her? Every office had cameras—it was part of the security system. Wasn't it? Quickly, she looked around his office for cameras. She didn't find even one. Vincent's office wasn't bugged, she concluded. Not like hers. She wondered if he had a bunker here somewhere, but she didn't need to know that. 115


She slipped behind his desk and started going through his drawers with the keys she, as owner of the company, had to it. She found several bank account books, personal and private. With rising hope, she found her name also on all of them. That made sense. If she was in danger, he would set it up so they could retrieve money—not from her accounts, but elsewhere, places where her enemy might not look. After ducking into the hall to make sure he wasn't in sight, she went into his files and searched for his contracts for each account. None of them had a caveat that he had to be alerted if large amounts were withdrawn. With her heart pounding in her chest, she wrote down all of the account numbers, then returned to her office. She wouldn't have much time. As soon as she withdrew the money, she would have to flee. She could buy a used car from an ad in the newspaper, using cash. She didn't need to go far. She just needed to disappear long enough to dream ... dream until hopefully her memory came back. Then she would know whether or not she could trust him. On her lunch break, she bought a new purse. She put the new purse into a locked drawer along with her gun from home, the music that seemed to bring her dreams, and the bottle of sleeping pills. Tomorrow, she would run a legitimate errand that wouldn't raise Vincent's interest in protecting her. She would go to the bank, withdraw as much money as she dared from his accounts, dump her old purse and get the used car. Then she would just go. Unless Vincent was on to her from the first, she'd have several hours before he noticed she hadn't returned from her errand. It wasn't much, but it 116


might be enough for her to find a place to hide for as long as possible before he found her. By that time, she prayed she'd know whether she could trust him. Or whether she'd have to use the gun.

117


Chapter 17 Just the night before, she'd walked into her penthouse and felt she was in some stranger's home. This night, Kira walked inside and felt roots. This place had become her home. For fourteen years, she'd come here and felt comfortable, relaxed. Even after Vincent moved out, this had been theirs, and not simply because he spent more time here than in his own apartment. She associated her home with the two of them and safety. Would she lose this? Would she lose Vincent? He would find her, no question. Wherever she ended up, he would find her, and quickly. But would everything have changed between them then? Would she fear him? Want to escape him? Both were unimaginable concepts. Tomorrow she would go, but as she drifted through her apartment, she wondered if it wouldn't be better to wait. Let Vincent's suspicions that she was considering escape fade. You'll talk yourself out of going if you wait. Maybe that's what you want. Or he'll talk you out of it somehow. As she fed Ruff, she wondered if the dog would be all right. Who would feed him? Walk him? Should she put him in a kennel? No, that would tip Vincent off. She couldn't allow herself to worry. The teenager, Piper, would take care of Ruff as usual. Leaving tomorrow was the only chance she might ever have to discover the truth. She went into her bedroom and slowly pulled off her work clothes, realizing there was no way she could turn that would block out Vincent seeing her through the cameras. What did it 118


matter anyway? He'd seen everything. There was nothing left to hide. She'd stayed in this bed last night, unable to sleep after he'd forced her to get rid of her only hope of drifting off again. He'd remained in the living room, watching over her. For some reason, he hadn't taken away the bottle of sleeping pills. He seemed to have forgotten about them—was he that distressed? It was hard to imagine Vincent losing his rationale for a single moment. No, she couldn't sleep in this bed again. She couldn't be decisive about what she was planning tomorrow if she came so close to the memories of how good he could be to her— even if there was an inconceivable chance he'd used her all these years. Despite the hunger making her stomach feel hollow, she turned out the lights and lay on the matting in the living room. She would try to sleep. Vincent had always insisted she do that in the past, promising to wake her if the nightmares started. He wouldn't prevent her from sleeping now, would he? She'd only just closed her eyes when she heard one of the multitude of locks on her door retracting, then another. Vincent, she realized instantly, her heart thudding at the realization he wasn't knocking. He was just coming in. Did he think she wouldn't let him in? Sitting up made her head dizzy. I don't want to feel this. I don't want to feel glad he's here. I'll see him again. So why do I feel like I might not, ever? 119


A thought struck her at the exact moment the last lock slid back. Did Vincent know about her plan to leave tomorrow? There was no way he could. She hadn't booked a flight or bought a ticket. She hadn't withdrawn any money. Every bit of preparation she'd done had been in her mind. Until she set the wheels in motion tomorrow—from the first step to the last—he couldn't know. Unless he was psychic where she was concerned. That wasn't as laughable as she wanted it to be. "Kira?" he called softly, just before the rice paper lamps came on. She blinked, seeing he held bags of food from Perry's restaurant in Little Italy. "What are you doing here?" she demanded, trying and failing to sound cold. "I knew you wouldn't feed yourself." "You thought I was going to drug myself in order to sleep?" He stared at her mutely for an instant, his jaw unyielding. "I couldn't find those pills when I looked for them this morning." Kira turned away. Had he looked for them in her desk at the office? She'd locked the new purse, with her gun and the pills, in the left side drawer of her desk. As far as she knew, she had the only key to it. But then Vincent had probably worked out a way to get the keys to every single locked box in her life. If he'd found the purse and the pills, she'd have to delay her plans for tomorrow. "Did you go on an all-out search for them?" she asked, her voice a little harder now, the way she wanted it to be. 120


He shook his head. "Why not?" "Because it gives me an excuse to watch you like a hawk," he said honestly. There was no cruelty in his tone. Her chin raised a notch when he set the bags of food on the low table in front of her. "Am I a prisoner? Your prisoner?" His tone was soft with hurt. "Is that how you see this?" Kira looked away at the indication of his pain. Why was he so confusing? Anyone would see the way he'd wrapped her life in his fences—satin though they were—as a prison. So why would it cause him distress to hear the standard viewpoint on the subject? "I'm not hungry," she said tightly. "Perry cooked it especially for you." A tumult of emotions rose in her chest, her throat, and she clenched her teeth against them as she shook her head. She couldn't control her feelings, dammit. She closed her eyes, averting her face through each counter-movement he made coming around the table and then, surprising her, sitting behind her. She should flee, shut him out completely, but she couldn't do anything as his warm, firm body encased her—his chest to her back, his thighs around her thighs, his arms around her waist like a band of ribbon. He held her not loose and not tight. Why did it feel like a lifetime since she'd been near him? Her mind scrambled to figure out when the last time was as if 121


the knowledge could save her from himself. Already, her nipples hardened against the oversized T-shirt she wore. After an instant, he lowered his head so his lips were against her bare shoulder, where the shirt had slipped down her arm. "What can I do?" he whispered hoarsely, on a sigh, as if he'd missed touching her just as much as she had. "Tell me. How can I satisfy you without compromising your security? What can I do to convince you I love you above all else? I'd never hurt you. I never wanted to. I never meant to. I just ... What else could I do, Kira?" Her gasp for air was a cross between an exhale and inhale that ended on a groan. He held her tighter. Touch me. Kiss me. Make everything worth it somehow. How could she distrust him? Go against him—her own heart? How could she leave him? Was there a chance his security could be compromised by her plans tomorrow? All this time she'd concluded a dangerous enemy was after her. Vincent had gone out of his way to make her believe that. But what if that wasn't the case? What if he was the one running from someone, and she'd gotten in the way by being on the dead end street that night, God only knew the reason? Maybe he'd never intended to have to protect anyone but himself, but once he'd found her he'd had no choice than to keep her safe as well as himself. That would explain the agony she'd seen and felt in him. Guilt. Some kind of guilt for dragging an innocent kid into a dangerous situation he could neither eliminate or escape. 122


Her own spun scenario caused her to twist her entire body to see his face. "Tell me ... Vincent, tell me what trouble you were in before you left your family." His gaze slid down to her erect nipples, but he didn't acknowledge her arousal. Their eyes met and held while he struggled with his own demons. Then he nodded, giving her this. "I told you my old man blamed me when my mom left. I don't know why. But it turned me, knowing he believed that. Knowing he didn't want me, but couldn't somehow magically wish me out of his life. I didn't care about myself or anybody else. I hated everyone, and all I wanted to do was destroy myself and anybody who got in my way. The drugs I took made all that worse. Harder—that edge inside me, sharper. I took 'em, sold 'em. Stole what I had to for my next fix. I was angry all the time. It was like ... like an armor ... around me. And armor always has one weak area. "You were that weak area for me. You knew exactly how to pierce my armor like no one and nothing else ever had or could. You were so..." His hand cradled her jaw, thumb stroking over her chin. "I know you're not now, but back then you were ... helpless. I knew what it was like to be all alone in the world, with not a single person to care for you. I looked into your eyes and knew in an instant I'd never be the same. You made me care. You made me feel love, made me belong somewhere." Everything inside of Kira urged her to put her arms around him and comfort the horror that still lived within him in the 123


dark corners of his heart. But if she touched him at this moment, she would give away her plan to leave him. When she held herself stiffly against her own need to heal this man, he eased forward, leaning his forehead against hers. "Forgive me. Understand, Kira. And don't hate me. Please. Stay with me. I know you want me to let you go, but I can't. It's the one thing I can't do." Her confusion dissolved against her inability to turn away from the need to feel his lips on hers again, feel him touching him and making the world splinter all around her from the inside out. She lifted her face to his and kissed his mouth— not like a child would. Not even like a friend would. She kissed him like a lover. But he didn't pull away. Instead, the way she'd only dreamed, he cradled her face in his hands, crushed her against him and groaned when her lips parted beneath his. He kissed her hard and deep, sweeping away any lofty ideas she'd about making it right, even for just a moment. She clung to him as he seemed to grow hungrier for her. Did he feel the way she did? Excited and scared of what was happening and what could happen if they let it. I'm dying. I'm living ... Vincent, only you. I love you. I want to be with you forever. But what does that mean? What's right? What's wrong? If you loved me ... I know you do. I don't know why, but I know it. But you love me and you won't explain the things I need explaining. If I accept this, what I want, what you have to want, too, I'm accepting 124


that I can't have those answers. Is this worth never knowing? Never understanding who I am, where I belong, why I'm here? For an instant, she withdrew to look into his damp eyes. He closed them tightly and brought her mouth back to his as he dragged her forward. Her thighs opened at his urging for her to straddle him. The feel of his erection, massive and insistent against her pelvis, made her insane with need for him. Her fingers eagerly traced the hard muscles in his back beneath his shirt, the tapered line of his waist. Every texture filled her with ravenous awe, and she quickly unbuttoned the shirt and pushed it back off his shoulders. She drew her mouth over his jaw, licking the rough hair, nibbling the sharp jut of his chin. "I've worshipped you," she whispered. Like a wolf going into the first bite, she assaulted his nipples with her lips and her tongue and her teeth. They rose, hard and tight, against her tongue, and he groaned, his hands on her throat as she blew gently on the diamond points. Then she traced the full width of her tongue over them. His eyes were drugged, she noticed in supreme satisfaction, as her fingers traced the hard ripples in his stomach. Vincent. Tender and giving, at once everything and everyone she needed in her life. You would die for me. 125


The thought floated like nectar through her mind when he dragged her mouth back up to his, his hands brushing her sides. His thumbs were so close to her nipples, she stopped breathing. He could have asked or demanded from her her promise to stay with him at that moment, but he didn't and somehow that made her love him more. He's desperate and scared, and he feels me pulling away from him the way he'd feel a thousand knives to the heart. This couldn't be just an act. Whatever had happened to her and her father, whatever Vincent's role in it or his reason for being there that night, he did love her. He couldn't hurt her because his selfless love would restrain his hand. Even if she couldn't allow herself to trust him implicitly anymore, she couldn't doubt his sincerity. His groan was both harsh and unbearably sweet when he crossed his arms over her back, crushing her to him. "You're everything to me, Kira. The air. The sky. The ground." He eased back, his face less than an inch from hers. Through tears in his eyes, he added, "Flowers. Laughter. Peace." Wrong or right, Vincent was everything to her the way she was everything to him. Tomorrow she would go. Tomorrow she could discover if she'd been betrayed by him—or if she'd betrayed him.

126


Chapter 18 Vincent let his eyes drift shut. Kira wasn't asleep in his arms. She simply lay with him peacefully. He had a hunch she didn't understand what he was doing anymore than she seemed to understand her own actions lately. He couldn't deny how badly he wanted to demand she tell him she loved him, promise him she'd stay with him forever. He'd spent the past decade and a half in single-minded devotion to Kira. Realizing he was attracted to her when she was twenty had jolted him out of his senses. He'd fought his attraction and buried it because he had to keep his mind on track in protecting her. He'd buried it successfully until he'd recognized Kira's sexual desire for him. He'd watched her from her apartment with the numerous, one-time dates—ones he'd checked out thoroughly beforehand—she brought home with her with the intention of using, but always sending them away unsatisfied before the deed was done. He'd realized what she was feeling as he administered long massages to help her relax and sleep after she'd turned twenty. Her body had all the signs of arousal. Years of locking away his own physical needs had slowed his discernment but not dissolved it. He'd suggested other masseuses to alleviate them both, but she always came back to him and he'd been forced to acknowledge his own satisfaction in that. He wanted to be the only one who could soothe her and fulfill her every desire. He wanted to complete her. 127


Disciplined as he was, the clinical observation he'd wanted to feel toward the growing situation couldn't account for the fact that he wanted the same things for himself. He wanted her. Her trip to Rome had presented him with relief and conflict. Her return did the same, tenfold. He still wanted her, and his need to justify it, to find a way to make it right, had come to him easily. In order to give her everything she wanted and needed, the end always justified the means. He'd had to plan for the possibility that Kira might ask him to make love with her. Ultimately, he'd accepted that he wanted to be with her in any and all ways. Being together was right for them. They had no reason to be ashamed. As long as they were together, nothing else mattered. But he knew she wasn't thinking about being with him sexually anymore. She wasn't focusing on the love they could and should share. She was planning to leave him, somehow. And he couldn't sleep for fear that she'd get away from him. She raised her head, and his eyes jerked open. He calmed when he discerned what looked like guilt in her eyes. What was she thinking? Why couldn't he read her mind, dammit? Vincent arms tightened around her. "What is it, love?" The peace they'd had for these minutes was no longer so firm, and he felt the shadow of its departure like an icy blast that settled between them yet couldn't separate them. He almost felt her holding her breath as she watched him wordlessly, waiting for something to happen. He couldn't take 128


the realization that she might have plans right now to escape him. Sitting up, he dragged the bags of food over to them. As Vincent fed her and himself, he saw and sensed the change in her mood again. These—the emotions, the attraction between them—were what held her here for the moment. If he had to convince her to stay with him using her feelings for him as the anchor, what other choice was there? He couldn't let her go. Better to sever a limb than allow that. After he fed her a bite, she took his fingers in her mouth and his immediate arousal as her tongue licked and sucked at his fingertips made him aware of the dangerous game he was playing. His gaze lowered to her breasts when her oversized shirt fell off her shoulder again and her nipple was exposed to the air and his ravenous stare. He was hungry, hell yes, and she made no move to cover herself. He'd never taken from her without an express invitation before, but this time he dragged her forward and kissed her the way he wanted to. His control was slipping too quickly. His let his mouth fell away, muttering thickly, "You are so exquisite. So beautiful." He traced the fine blue veins on the surface of her chest, following them down to her exposed nipple. Kira arched her back when his head lowered to the hardened tip. Gasping, moaning, her hands clutched his hair to keep him against her, she urged his lips to brush the sensitive nub with a butterfly kiss. He ran the seam of his closed mouth against her, and her nipple hardened even more, elongating eagerly. Continuing to stroke the fullness of 129


her breast, he opened his lips against her and took her inside his mouth. "Vincent, oh Vincent," she cried. He licked, he sucked, just as she had on his fingers and his nipples earlier. The memory made his erection more painful. He closed both hands over her full breasts, stroking her clothcovered nipple with his fingers while his mouth worked against the other. Recognizing the orgasm pulling at her forcefully—he knew her body so well by now—he encouraged it. Hell, he needed to be inside her. She seemed to realize it, too, when her hips straddled his desperately. She rubbed herself against him, losing herself completely when his hands focused her motion. Slipping his hands beneath her panties, he cradled her bare bottom, fingers stroking while he pressed the center of her pleasure to his arousal. Without touching her core, without entering her the way he wanted to more than he wanted his next dozen breaths, he brought her to a climax that made her sob and made him hate himself. She was trembling violently in his arms. Laying her back on the floor, he kissed her tenderly. Stay with me, he wanted to beg as he looked down at her and saw the sparkle of tears in her eyes. Never leave me. Never make me have to chase you and hold you a prisoner against your will. Emptiness with fullness. To end and to begin. Circle of life.

130


Chapter 19 "I have that meeting at Il Morello with the Parsons' student." Kira spoke the words casually, as casually as her agonizingly wild beating heart would allow. She glanced up from her daily planner to her secretary. Vincent sat in a chair in her office listening, no doubt having memorized her schedule for the day long ago. He wouldn't wonder about this; he knew she liked to control every aspect of the business, right down to handpicking designers to join the Kira Gunn team. "That'll take about an hour or so. I might do some 'competitor shopping' after. Back here by four or five for the conference call with the Los Angeles branch at five-thirty. Oh, Megan's supposed to have some preliminary flats for me this afternoon. Just leave them on my desk." "Do you need me to go with you?" Vincent asked. Kira dismissed her secretary after telling her to call down to have the limousine brought to the front. She didn't look at Vincent when she murmured, "No." "You don't have to work fourteen-hour days. You could even put Megan in charge so you don't have to work at all." His voice was soft, and she couldn't help wondering if he wanted her to take off time in order to spend all her time with him. Explore each other deeper than a few kisses, a onesided orgasm and a lack of total fulfillment on both of their parts that had kept her awake long after she reluctantly asked him to leave. She'd asked herself at least a million 131


times why she hadn't begged him to make love to her the way she had no doubt he'd wanted her to last night. Surprised by his suggestion, she said lightly, "I need to work. What would I do with all the hours of the day?" As he rose, first closing the door then coming toward her and putting himself between her and her desk, she stopped breathing as she watched the lion-like sensuality of his body rippling under the clothes he wore. Could she resist him? Could she keep her secrets? Betray him and kiss him at the same time? The brush of his hand against her cheek overwhelmed her. She closed hers eyes against the guilt and arousal. She had no choices here. He'd given her none. She had to remember that. "If nothing else, we could take a vacation." "I just got back from a vacation," she reminded him hoarsely. "That wasn't a vacation. You worked constantly. Let's go somewhere. Without bringing work. Just you and me—" She came like a slave when he drew her up to him. His mouth was only inches from hers as he looked at her. God, he was aroused, she realized. They hadn't even kissed yet, and his erection was massive against her pelvis. He could have taken her so easily last night. Why hadn't he? She'd never wanted anything more than him then ... now. But how could she ... ? Kiss me. I'll give you everything, Vincent. If the buzz from her phone hadn't sounded insistently, his mouth would have covered hers again, both driven and 132


helpless with need. She ached for it, even as she told herself again it couldn't happen, the way it hadn't last night. "That's my limo." He nodded, his jaw tight. "I can clear your schedule from six-thirty on tonight." Teeth clenched at wondering if they would make love tonight—no wonder; they would—if she didn't leave, she agreed. She moved away, picking up the briefcase and purse she'd packed that morning. They were much heavier than usual today, like her heart was as Vincent walked her downstairs and out to her limo. "I'll see you later," she managed hoarsely, and he nodded, tracing his thumb longingly over her mouth instead of taking the kiss they both wanted fiercely. Kiss me until I shatter in a million pieces and I can give up what I know I have to do. Her driver took her to her 'meeting', which she'd secretly re-scheduled with the student that morning for another time. She ducked out a back entrance of the restaurant and walked the few blocks to her bank. Trying to act like it wasn't unusual for her to visit the bank to make a withdrawal instead of doing it over the phone or having Vincent or her secretary do it for her, she stood in line until she was able to push a paper with Vincent's account numbers with her identification to the teller. "Please withdraw $1500 from each of these accounts." The teller frowned. "Cash?" 133


Kira glared. "Yes. And hurry. I have an appointment in twenty minutes." In less than five minutes, the clerk returned, apologizing profusely, calling her 'Miss Gunn' with kowtowing respect. The stack of bills disappeared into her purse along with her identification. She followed the signs to the restroom, where she ducked into a stall, placed some of the money in her new purse and changed into the jeans and T-shirt from her briefcase. Then she pulled on the fashionable leather jacket she'd worn previously over a blouse and skirt. A baseball cap and sunglasses followed. She stuffed the rest of the money, the gun, sleeping pills and CD into the various pockets of the jacket. As soon as she was sure the restroom was empty, she opened the stall door and stepped quickly to the trash. She stuffed her briefcase, her old purse and discarded clothes as far beneath the waste as she could get them. She walked out of the bank as calmly as she could and hailed a cab. Surprising her because she had little experience doing so on her own, she got one almost immediately. She gave the address where she was to pick up the used car she'd read about in a newspaper ad and called about the previous night, after Vincent had left her apartment. A half an hour later and a few hundred dollars lighter, she'd bought a car that wasn't pretty, but would get her where she needed to go. Surprising her again, traffic wasn't as bad as she expected and, though she rarely drove, she made record time leaving the city. 134


Since the car had a full tank of gas, she kept going as long as she dared before she found a hotel, paid in cash and left a fake name at the desk. Her nose wrinkled instinctively upon entering the room, but she barely looked at the furnishings after she locked the door, with the 'Do Not Disturb' sign hung out, and went to sit on the bed. It was almost six o'clock. Vincent had to know by now. Maybe at first he'd believe she was merely late. Her cell phone would go off frantically in the bank restroom. Was there a way he could trace the bug in her purse or briefcase to there? As soon as he found those, he'd know what she'd done. For an instant, Kira imagined herself racing around this afternoon, cloak and dagger, and she started laughing. Then she imagined Vincent, frantic at the knowledge that she'd run from him—after last night's kisses, the unselfish way he'd brought her pleasure beyond her most intense fantasies of him. Just as wild as her laughter, her pain came. She didn't have time to think about regrets. Taking the bottle of pills from her pocket, she forced herself to breathe deeply and concentrate on what she'd escaped to do. After swallowing two of the pills on a ragingly empty stomach, she pushed a chair under the doorknob for added security. Once she'd pulled off her jacket, she took her gun from her pocket. She checked the clip, then put it beside her on the bed. There was a chance Vincent might find her before she awoke. She had to sleep. She had to dream. Clearing her mind to allow that wasn't easy, but the pills worked quickly, 135


considering her lack of sleep the night before. Memories of Vincent kissing her, wanting her, his eyes staring into hers, his sweet, confusing words this morning, filled her dreams. She woke in utter darkness and heartbreak. She hadn't dreamed about the dead end street or the gunshots. Exhaustion claimed her again, and, when she woke, it was day. No memories came of the hours she'd spent sleeping. Had she dreamed? She hadn't had a seizure—for that she had to be grateful. It was after ten in the morning. Vincent hadn't found her. But she had to move. She had to blur the trail in case he got close. Her head filled with cotton, she re-packed and left the room. She asked one of the maids if she knew of any fast food restaurants nearby, then headed in the direction she'd been pointed. Kira picked up something to eat, then drove off. Two hours later, she stopped, gulping sleeping pills as soon as she got into another dank hotel room, where she locked the door, jammed a chair under the knob and put her gun next to her in the bed. In moments, she was asleep. When she awoke again in the middle of the night, she realized she'd dreamed about the dead end street, the gunshots, Vincent's appearance—but it was the same as it'd always been. Instead of going back to sleep—her head felt too clear and she didn't want to take more pills—she got up and drove. She stopped an hour later, filled the car with gas and loaded up on food from the gas station. Then she drove for another three hours. The names of the towns meant nothing to her, but she 136


knew she was far from her Fifth Avenue penthouse. Vincent hadn't found her. She needed to sleep, as much as she possibly could, and the best way to do that was to stay somewhere—somewhere she could hide the car and hole up for as long as possible. She found what she was looking for in a small town that seemed to be in the middle of nowhere. There were cabins for rent by the lake, each with a car port. Her financial state was good enough that she paid for a week in advance. Then she went to a small town version of a department store, where she bought some food and water, and an inexpensive, portable CD player. When she got back to the cabin, she realized how tired she was. The lingering effects of the sleeping pills, emotional turmoil, and the fatigue of driving for hours without stopping to stretch made her believe she could sleep without taking more pills. She locked up the cabin, then set up the CD player. Rimsky-Korsakov's 'Scheherazade, Suite symphonique' began as she drew her gun from her pocket, checked it and then lay back with it on her chest. Somehow she'd outsmarted Vincent. She'd gotten away with escaping him for days. Unbelievable. He would be furious when he found her. She couldn't help believing she'd be relieved to see him even if she found out he was her enemy.

137


Chapter 20 The gunshots woke her, and for an instant Kira thought they were real. She sat up with her gun held tightly in her hand, pointing it at nothing but shadows. The dreams had come again—with a little coaxing—but they were the same. Nothing new, nothing to help her understand where she'd come from, who or what Vincent Carson was. Kira dropped the gun on the bedspread, putting her hand over her eyes. She was covered in sweat. The little cabin had a few useless fans, but no air conditioning. The bed smelled like perspiration; the sheets were damp with it. She was so hungry her stomach hurt. She thought about going out to get something more substantial than Twinkies, cheese and crackers, even showered in anticipation, but then she accepted Vincent would find her soon. The little time she had left had to be spent sleeping. Feeling little hope in that prospect, she went to the kitchen completely naked after her shower and hand-washing her only clothes. She gulped down cheese and crackers with bottled water, trying to visualize it as Perry's filet mignon and a nice glass of burgundy. She followed the unsatisfying meal with two packs of Twinkies, which somehow made her hungrier than she'd been before she ate. With something in her stomach, the pills she swallowed would require more time to work. After pulling the smelly sheets off the bed, she searched the cupboards and found fresh linen. Lying down didn't appeal to her at all, not after days of it. She went to each window 138


and peered out, wondering how her dog was, if the business was falling into ruin without her and Vincent there. Where was he now? If anyone knew how to locate another person, even someone who'd seemingly disappeared without a trace, he did. Even if she felt like she'd done well to thwart his efforts, she felt sure she'd left a trail for him regardless. Following her couldn't be that hard for him. Yet it'd been four days. How had he learned to track? To handle every type of gun and never miss his mark when he shot? How had he learned how to disappear without a trace? It wasn't something you could teach yourself out of books. Vincent had known exactly what he was doing when he took her out of that white room and they blended like shadows into the night and the wide world. He'd had identification for both of them—fake, but seemingly as authentic as the real thing. He'd had enough money for them to live without work for years. No one had questioned them. No one had ever questioned them. Fifteen years later, and the events of that night had remained in the past. He'd kept them safe. Even when she'd started her business and became internationally famous, no one had come for them. Despite the radical change in their appearances, he kept out of the public eye as much as possible. While people knew about them, there'd never been a picture printed of either of them. Vincent understood that she preferred anonymous success, and she'd always thought it was his reason for keeping them out of the public eye. In the eyes of the media, she was the faceless head of a successful corporate who never attended 139


her own shows—allowing instead her designers to get the glory—and who never gave an interview. She'd never questioned any of it before. Vincent could do everything and anything. A sixteen-year-old boy had known how to do all that. How? Who taught him, especially since he claimed he'd been on his own, a drug addict and criminal, before he met her? Did it mean anything that Vincent seemed to be able to do everything well? Much the way she did, whatever he set his mind to do, he did. That wasn't the mark of a high-school dropout, unloved by his family, angry at the world and taking his pain out on himself and all those around him. Her thoughts made her feel tired again, but even as she got back into bed, her hand resting on the gun next to her, she couldn't stop considering the many faces of Vincent Carson. He'd kissed her, touched her, as if she meant everything to him. As if he'd been aching for her the same way she had for him since she was eighteen. Never before had he given any clue he responded to her as a sexual female. He'd never made a questionable move on her. Could their intimacy have been just part of an act to get her to stay in line? No one was that good of an actor. But Vincent ... Vincent did everything well. Why couldn't he kiss a woman he cared nothing for and make her believe she was all he wanted and cared about in the world? Imagining the calculation something like that would require of a person made her stomach feel queasy. He'd made her love him, even as she feared trusting him completely. 140


What if he was a criminal? What if he'd kept her with him all these years for collateral or leverage? What if he'd been the one who killed her father? What if the people after them were cops—or FBI or some other law enforcement agency? If they found Vincent, he could use her to get away again, since they probably wouldn't allow an innocent bystander to be killed in order to catch a criminal. From the beginning, he'd made her trust him. He'd made her loyal to him. After a while, he'd even given her freedom so she'd have no clue she really was his prisoner. It would explain why he didn't want her to regain her memory, why he'd asked her to stay with him to be safe, why he'd told her next to nothing about himself. Conveniently, nothing he'd revealed could be proved or disproved. The scenario she painted in her mind covered everything, explained it all. Vincent didn't love her. The tenderness he'd shown her for the only lifetime she could remember had all been an act. His anonymity and safety were paramount in his mind. He wouldn't let her go. He would hunt her down anywhere she went. And then what? Would he kill her? Threaten her? Would he force her to flee with him and hold her prisoner? The fear wrapped in questions was buffeted only by the fatigue stealing through her mind, finally claiming her and pulling her back into the dreams mingling with memories of the night before she'd left. She woke to utter blackness and silence. The music wasn't on. She'd set it to play over and over. Groping, she found only empty bed sheets next to her. Her gun was gone. 141


Chapter 21 She was awake. Not hopelessly drugged after all. From the chair he sat in across from the bed, Vincent heard her breath catch in the darkness as she groped for something missing. He spoke—softly, hoarsely. "I took it. I flushed the sleeping pills down the goddamn toilet. I didn't go through all of this just to have you kill yourself. Or to take chances on your own." His chest was as tight as a heart attack. God, he wanted to see her. See her eyes. See if every awful thing he'd imagined for the past few hours was true. Because he'd believed she might never wake from the coma she'd put herself into with those damn pills. "Why did you do it?" he demanded in a strangled tone that was all that kept the flood of fear and fury behind the dam. The shape of her in the darkness as she rose in the bed made him tense. Very slowly, she reached for the lamp, seeming to realize as well as he did that they would both be blinded until their eyes adjusted, and neither would be able to react as quickly as they needed to. Being closest to the lamp, she blinked against the light, but he was still in shadows on his side of the room. When her eyes adjusted, she saw her gun and the small plastic card lying in his lap. Her eyes narrowed in confusion. "Why, dammit?" he muttered what he knew had to be her own thought. He hadn't slept in days. He still wore the clothes he'd had on the day she left. He'd been in this room for hours, moving 142


around her to take her gun out of her hand, flush the pills, turn off the CD, while he waited frantically for her to wake. "I can't accept your half-revelations anymore. I can't accept the secrets you keep. I need answers to my questions, and since you won't give them to me—" "You thought killing yourself would bring them?" He choked on his words. The past few hours were still too close for him to forget. Kira withdrew once more in confusion. She didn't seem to know what to believe about him. He could only guess she feared him now, maybe more than she'd cared for him. "I wasn't trying to kill myself. I thought if I slept, dreamed, the answers might come to me. I knew I couldn't use the pills to sleep after you made me throw them up last time. This was the only way. I knew you'd find me." His brain felt gritty from stress and lack of sleep. He couldn't comprehend her words fully. "You did this ... You made me think you were leaving me ... just for answers?" "Yes." He straightened in the chair, leaning forward to snarl out his words. "There are no answers! Why couldn't you believe me? The only way to get the answers, to even look for them, is to expose you, and there's no goddamn way I would ever do that." "Because it would expose you?" she asked softly. "Yes." 143


She hesitated only for a moment. "Are you...?" Her face hardened, clearly on the thought that he was her enemy. "Are you going to kill me, Vincent?" The betrayal he felt at her question burned like a vigil fire in his heart. She and her words hurt him more than anyone or anything else ever could. "No, Kira. I'm going to give you what you think you want so badly." With that, he threw the card and her gun, the clip half out, to the floor between them.

144


Chapter 22 Kira stared at him for a suspended minute, half-expecting him to regret giving her a weapon against him, but he made no move at all when she slid nude, off the end of the bed to the floor, and grabbed the gun. A simple action released the clip entirely, revealing that it was fully loaded. Without taking her eyes off him, she groped around with her free hand until she had the other object he'd offered her. By touch alone, she found that it was a hard piece of plastic, like a driver's license. "What's this?" she asked, still not looking away from him even an instant. She remembered with more clarity than she wanted how quickly he'd disarmed and disabled the two thieves near her apartment. Since there was no way she could outsmart or out-maneuver him, her only chance was to stay with him every step of the way. "Are you sure you want to know, Kira? Once you know, there's no turning back. I won't be able to protect either of us anymore. Be sure you make your decision with that in mind." "I'm not certain I'm any safer not knowing anything. I can't fight an enemy blindly ... or are you my enemy?" He didn't try to disguise the cut her words caused him this time either, yet he said unequivocally, "If I'm your enemy, then you really don't have a prayer in the world." More mystery. More coded messages she couldn't decipher. In frustration, she shouted, "Tell me, dammit! I have to know. Tell me everything. Neither of us will leave here until I know." 145


"I'll tell you everything I know." Kira shook her head. "No. Don't you dare do that again. You've said that before, and I know there's more." "I've told you everything I know about you—that's what you've asked for. I've told you everything personal I can about myself. Everything I could, without endangering you further." Because she had to risk it, she glanced down at the card, verified that Vincent had stayed in the chair, then looked down again. A standard identification card. The man on it was Vincent ... but not Vincent. He had shoulder-length blond hair in the photo, and in a plummeting rush, Kira remembered he'd had blond hair when their gazes met on that dead-end street. When he'd come for her in the white room, he'd had close-cropped black hair. She hadn't recognized him until she'd looked into his eyes. The name on the card was Kyle Vincent. When Kira looked at him again, she felt as though she'd never seen him before in her life. "Who are you?" An expression of pain, acceptance, firm resolve claimed his expression again. "I'm a stupid kid who was angry at his old man and the world. Screwing up and striking out anywhere he could land a blow. I'm someone who had no idea where he belonged until I was asked if I wanted to do something with my life; if I wanted to die in order to really live. I'm someone who agreed to die to leave everyone and everything he knew in order to be resurrected as a new person." 146


He wasn't making any sense. Kira shook her head at him, raising the gun in warning that she didn't want any more riddles. "I was twelve years old, on the streets on my own. Hadn't been home for over six months and nobody'd bothered looking for me. Snorting drugs, selling drugs, stealing for my next fix. I had no respect for anyone, least of all myself. And then one day, a man I'd never met before bailed me out of the hole. He told me I'd end up back there before long, and I said I didn't care. He asked me if I wanted to do something with my life. If I wanted to die to live again. "He walked away from me, but two weeks later I was back, right where he said I'd be, and he came to me again and asked me for an answer. I didn't know who he was or what he could do to me. For me. I just answered the questions. I said 'Yes' to everything. "There was an accident. Jason Anderson was killed out on the streets he'd helped to menace. There was a funeral. I was dead to the world. To the family who didn't want me. To the so-called friends I hung with. I became Kyle Vincent. For two years, where every day was exactly the same—I got up at four a.m. and trained until midnight, I had no thoughts about where I was and what I was doing there. All I knew was that I was a recruit, and I had the drive to be the best. Nothing else mattered to me." "Why?" Kira whispered, unaware she'd spoken out loud until he continued. "Angelo. My mentor. The only real father I'd ever known. The only person who'd ever cared about me. Made me feel 147


like I belonged somewhere. There was nothing I wouldn't have done for him. So I worked. I learned. I became the best. I knew how to fight. How to kill. How to disappear without a trace and to find anyone, anywhere. I mastered every piece of technology in existence and those the real world had no concept existed. I was trained in how to improvise in any situation, to fill any role I might be required to fill. I was tested for my psychological stability. Recruits have to become experts in every area—combat, survival, weapons, strategy, languages, animal training, technology, aviation, mechanics, manners and etiquette ... the art of seduction." She stopped breathing at his softly spoken words. "The hardest part of the training was torture. We were taught to endure pain, cold, heat, hunger, sleep deprival. You name it. Over half of my class didn't make it past even the simulation." "You...? How could they..." Vincent shook his head at her. "You don't want to know about that, Kira. I don't want to remember it either, but I got through it and I could survive if the sim became reality. I graduated top of my class. I moved up until, for the first time in so many years, I was allowed to leave. I was given a driver's license, identification, credit cards, an apartment and a cover job. I went out on my first field work, assignments, and I..." He turned away as he said, "I was good at what I did. Too good. I enjoyed it the way some people enjoy sports or sex. I got a natural high every time I stepped out of the airlock, into the transport. I felt like I was invincible." 148


His eyes had narrowed when he faced her again. "I was a robot. A machine, programmed to succeed. I did what I was told, I advanced and nothing was ever enough." "Who did you work for?" "It doesn't have a name. It can't have a name because we work incognito. But operatives and recruits call it 'the Network'. The most covert organization in the world. Branches all over the globe. Invisible—the way the FBI, CIA, DEA and other law enforcement agencies can never be. Those agencies are subject to the opinion of the American people they serve. The world doesn't watch over the Network. They don't monitor and control our every move. The Network can do more than just deal with terrorists and criminals. We can disable them. We can destroy them. And the world couldn't survive the way it does without us." Kira stared at him. This can't be real! Vincent seemed to read her mind, "Everything in our world trains you to believe in justice that isn't really justice. You don't want to believe criminals get away with their crimes every day. You want to believe terrorists are human beings, just like us, and they have families and loved ones. You believe evil doesn't have a face, and justice is never swift. You believe in deliberation and fair trials. "Criminals almost never act out of righteous indignation, Kira. They terrorize and kill because they can. Not for some cause or higher mission. Money can take a fair trial and put the power in the hands of the criminals. How many judges and police officers and politicians are corrupt? More than 149


you'll ever allow yourself to believe. True justice has to take over where regular law enforcement leaves off. That's why the Network was created and why it functions successfully." "You still believe in it. In 'The Network'," Kira realized. "I believe in its mission. Uphold justice for all, at any price. If you don't want the world overrun with evil, there have to be absolutes. An eye for an eye." "Were you brainwashed?" His expression didn't falter. "No, but that's not something an outsider can understand. The bottom line is that no one leaves the Network. You're re-born there, you die there. It's not a country club and nobody has a mid-life crisis. Focus on the mission—there is nothing else." "I thought they let you go free after your training?" "I was free ... but there is no life outside the Network. Relationships. Friendships. Marriages. Monogamy." Vincent shook his head grimly. "We're married to the Network. It's our first responsibility, our strongest commitment. The only family we have are other operatives." Kira swallowed, resisting that any of this could be reality. "How ... how could something like this exist without anyone knowing?" "It's sanctioned by the American government, but only the highest officials know about it." "The President?" He nodded. "And a select committee in the White House, called 'Oversight'. It was all set up a long time ago. But if anything ever happened to expose us, our government would deny any knowledge of us—collectively and individually. We 150


would cease to exist. We're funded by a major technology corporation with branches all over the world designing innovative equipment both for public use—computers, cell and satellite phones, software and the like—and things that only the Network has access to. The corporation functions exactly like a real business, but all the employees work for the Network." Kira glanced at the ID card again. "So what happened?" she asked, not sure if she wanted to know but certain she had to. "I was a Level 4 operative, succeeding on every mission. I moved up through the ranks quickly. Seven, six, five. Four is one of the hardest to achieve. It was all I lived for. One night, I was pumped for action, but nothing was happening. I saw Angelo leave the compound, and I followed him, hoping to get in on something, even though I hadn't been in on the profile. I figured I knew the drill enough by now. Something was different this time though. Angelo was alone, and he was careful, but I convinced myself he didn't realize I was trailing him until we almost got to the dead end street. I was so damn proud of that." His eyes filled with anguish, even as he smiled like he hated himself. Kira lowered the gun because she could see he wasn't thinking about anything except the night that changed both of their lives forever. "Angelo was furious with me. Maybe any other time, he would have told me he was proud of me, too, for almost besting him for once. But he told me to sweep the area and stay in the shadows. I was cocky as hell. I had dreams of 151


grandeur about this night. I'd trailed Angelo, one of the—if not the—best operatives in the Network, without him catching me immediately. What else could I do this night that would earn me another gold star? I figured the place was crawling with operatives anyway—why sweep when I knew they were there? I saw Andy Sheppard at the end of the street with Angelo. I'd worked missions with Andy in the past and I thought this wouldn't be any different. Angelo and Andy talked in low whispers, and I was ready for anything because this wasn't like the missions I'd been on before. Somehow that made it more exciting to me. "I didn't expect what happened next. One minute Angelo and Andy were talking, arguing—it looked like; the next, the place was blazing with gunfire. Andy went down in a blood bath. And that's when I found you. "Here I was, thinking I'd be awarded some goddamn medal for my heroic deeds, and I didn't even know there was a kid not twenty-five feet from me, hidden in the bushes. When I got to you, you were covered with blood, telling me you couldn't breathe. That's how close you were to Andy when it happened. It's a miracle you weren't killed yourself. You passed out, and when you came to, you started to seize. I don't know if that was the first time it'd happened to you, but I didn't know what to do. So I held you. I stroked you. I tried to calm you with my voice. It worked." Just as it has every time since... "The man ... the one who took me?" Kira demanded. "Angelo. He found us and we got away. Back to headquarters ... the compound." 152


"They put me in a white room?" Vincent nodded. "They wanted to cover it up. Nobody knew who you were. They wanted to erase your memories, then drop you on the doorstep of an orphanage, like some stray, in order to 'maintain structural integrity'. You saw a man gunned down, you were drowning in his blood, and they wanted to pretend you weren't affected by the whole thing. You had a seizure, for Pete's sake! They didn't want to worry about the damage it'd caused you. "I couldn't do that to you. But I knew if I did something, I had to do it immediately, before they could make a plan. I made my own plans. I withdrew as much money as I could from my credit cards. I stole black money, taken from criminals, from within the compound, so we had a huge amount of money to live on for years. I changed my appearance. Then I went in and took you out. I set up new identities for us, valid birth certificates—untraceable, and we moved around constantly for the first year. "We disappeared in the sight of the world, from the allseeing vision of the Network. I never expected you to become famous years later, but when they didn't come for us even then I knew I'd truly erased the existence of that little girl and a Network operative. I'd done what no other operative had ever done, maybe even wanted to do. I'd escaped and was re-born a third time. But that doesn't make us any safer. If they find us ... if they find out you know about them ... they'll kill you, Kira. They'll kill me for breaking the code by exposing them." 153


That was what he'd meant when he said no turning back, she realized now. Being unable to protect either of them once he told her the truth. "Was Andy Sheppard my father? How could he be if operatives aren't allowed to marry or have relationships?" Vincent shook his head. "I don't know. I don't know any of that, Kira, and I didn't have a chance to find out anything before I got us away from there. I can't go back, not without endangering you. And it's not possible to look for anything except from the inside. Even there—it's a death sentence even attempting it." Feeling defeated, Kira glanced down. "I had a doll. A G.I. Joe action doll. He had black hair. The real fuzzy stuff. A scar on his cheek. I had him in the white room. I must have left him there," she was amazed at the unbidden memory. Joe was tough, a fighter, the way she'd always wanted to be. Like her parents. Vincent said nothing. "What is this for?" she asked, letting the gun fall into her palm and holding it out to him. He made no move to take it, simply gazed into her eyes. "For you. You owe me one. If Andy Sheppard was your father, I let him die. I didn't sweep the area before to make sure it was clear. I took him away from you. Nothing I've done or ever could do can make up for that. You can make it look like a suicide or ask me to do it myself. I'll do anything you want." He was inviting her to kill him in order to console herself. Avenge her father for the life he believed he stole from her. Slowly, she closed her fingers around the butt of the gun again, lifted it and aimed it at his heart. 154


Vincent didn't even flinch.

155


Chapter 23 "How can I find out who my parents were?" she demanded of him. Vincent shook his head. "You can't. There's no way. Even if I trained you, it would take years before you were good enough to go in by yourself. I wouldn't let you risk it because it would take more than that. You need an understanding about what the Network's like and you just don't have that without having experienced it firsthand. And you know damn well you've refused to learn how to hack with a computer. All their ports are closed; they're behind impenetrable firewalls. You can't find it with a ping, probe, scanner or trace-route. It denies all UDP and e-mail. You can't send a program, like a Trojan, to give you a back door. Only an uberhacker could get into the Network's system and snoop around without getting caught immediately. No one has ever gained root who wasn't authorized to." "You can do it. You can do anything." He didn't even smile at her confidence in him. "Thanks for the vote. Believe me, I've tried. I've tried it from the inside, and it was impossible even there. Their intrusion detection programs trace an encroacher in a matter of minutes. It's a seriously locked-down box. You have no idea what you're dealing with, Kira. I do, and I'm telling you it can't be done." He glanced down, a blush creeping into his face. "And you've already proved to me that I'm sorely out of practice." "What do you mean?" 156


Still angry with himself, Vincent shook his head in selfdisgust. "I mean, you got away from me. It took me four days to find you—you, someone who hasn't had a goddamn bit of training in how to disappear." He saw the surge of satisfaction in her expression at his words. She lowered the gun again. "How did you find me?" "It should have been easy," he said on a snort. "Your driver called me. You didn't come out from the meeting at the time you were supposed to. I told him to go in to the restaurant. He was told you'd canceled and re-scheduled the meeting that morning, and that they hadn't seen you. I tracked you to the bank immediately, but all your driver found of you was your briefcase, purse and clothes in the trash. I knew you had to be in the city, but I thought for sure you'd head for the airlines since you'd want to get far away as fast as possible. I wasted time checking there, the trains, the buses. I figured you'd go out of your way to avoid a car. It'd be the first place I'd normally look. You have a driver's license, but you only got it to maintain your independence from me, didn't you? You're not supposed to drive because of your seizures. You had a five-hour head-start before I found the guy who sold you a used car. You didn't do anything I expected you to do. I figured, even if you had chosen a car to make your escape, you'd still head for the nearest airline after you tried to make those reservations on Tuesday, then you'd ditch the car somewhere along the way. So I wasted more time." 157


"I wasn't thinking like myself. I was trying to think like you." He nodded, impressed despite himself. She had been listening all those years he'd tried to train her to protect herself. "I know. I finally figured that out." "And then it was simple?" "No." The anguish of the past four days closed over him again, making him rub his temples to ease the swamp of tension rising there once more. "Because I thought you were either trying to get away from me for good ... or you were going to kill yourself. I knew you were planning one of those before you ever left, but I never figured you'd use my accounts. With all the criminals I've brought down, I've always been able to get into their heads. Understand their next move before they could make it. But you..." He shook his head. He couldn't control the fear that felt too close to allow him to relax. Leaning forward suddenly, he put his head in his hands. His whole body convulsed with the force of the shudders that went through him. "I didn't think I was going to find you in time. When I got here and found you not moving, barely breathing, I thought I was too late. If you didn't wake up when you did—nothing else matters." He would have killed himself. Without Kira, he didn't have anything worth living for. She was all he knew, all he wanted, all he loved. 158


Surprising him, she tossed the gun away from her and his head snapped up. Her expression told him she wanted more than anything to beat on him until she didn't feel the frustration inside her anymore. "How can you say you love me?" she shouted. "How can you say it? This isn't love! Hiding from the world. Living like we're on the run, like anything could happen to send us fleeing. Keeping secrets. It's all unbelievable." And yet he knew she'd believed him despite her instinctive resistance to doing so. "You think you're protecting me and ... I don't want to be protected. I'm a grown woman, Vincent. I want to know why my father was killed. Who my mother was. Who killed them. Why was I there that day? How do you expect me to just go on with my life as if I don't need to find out the truth? I have to know. You've given me everything." She drew in a harsh breath that, by all appearances, didn't relieve her one iota. "But it's not enough, Vincent. If you won't help me—" He moved with a swiftness that made her gasp when he came down to her, grabbed her shoulders and shoved his face up close to hers. "Help you kill yourself? That's what you want me to do? 'Cuz the answers you want are your death sentence. You know that? You understand? The day you find out the truth is the day you die. And you want me to help you do that? You ask too much." She saw the tears covering his face, and they stilled her. His grip loosened. 159


"What I've given you, what I feel, Kira, may not be enough, but it was all I had to give. You can't ask me to let you kill yourself. You couldn't kill me when I gave you the chance either." His voice was soft. He wanted to believe that, whether she had the lack of conscience to kill anyone, the things she felt for him, wrong or right, had restrained her hand. "What do you want me to do?" she demanded wearily. "You know." Go away with him. Disappear again. Just the two of them. Accept the situation. Ignore her need for truth, the knowledge of where she'd come from and where she belonged. He wanted all of those things. He now knew he had one last chance to convince her to stay with him. "Don't leave me. Love me enough that nothing else matters," he murmured. "Love me the way I love you, Kira. You're all that matters to me. You're all I want in life. Give yourself to me. I'll give you anything and everything you want ... unless it puts you in danger." She closed away the pain in her eyes so he couldn't see it even when her entire expression was filled with it. She shook her head. "I can't think about anything now, Vincent. I want to sleep and forget." Vincent let her go, and she pushed herself back, turned away and crawled into bed. By the time he stood over her, she'd closed her eyes again and tears flooded down her cheeks. He couldn't do what he wanted. All he could do was watch her with a fear beyond anything he'd ever known. 160


**** Her dreams were frantic, and she tossed and turned, gasping breathlessly the way she had when he found her drowning in her father's blood. After awhile, Vincent couldn't stop his instinctive, overpowering need to take care of her the way he always had. Just like in the beginning, she quieted only in his arms.

161


Chapter 24 "I don't want to be here, Daddy. Let's go." In the darkness that was almost total, all she could see were her father's eyes, and then she felt his arms around her. He knelt on the wet ground with her. "It's all right, Hollyhocks. Uncle Angelo will be here soon and then we can go." "Home?" Her father's silence brought the weight of dread into her chest again. They'd never stop running. She'd lost count of the times they'd moved from one place to another. She'd lost count of the days. She saw the look in her father's eyes every time his satellite phone chirped. They weren't safe there. They'd never be safe again. "No, baby. We can't go home." In the darkness, she saw the sparkle in his eyes. He was thinking of Mama. Don't cry, Daddy. I can't take it when you cry. She threw her arms around her father and closed her eyes against the darkness. "We'll be all right, Hollyhocks. Someday. I promise, someday we won't have to run ever again." Her father stiffened against her suddenly, and she knew without asking that Uncle Angelo was there. When her father pulled back from her, his face was shadowed and she was afraid when he whispered, "Stay here, Hollyhocks. Stay in the shrubs and don't move or make a sound. Hold Joe tight if you get scared. I'll be back in a minute." 162


As her father slipped out from the overgrowth of shrubs, she crept forward, huddling into the wet leaves and shivered as she listened. Her father was close by, but far enough away that she only heard parts of what he said. If the other man talking was her Uncle Angelo, she didn't recognize his voice. Uncle Angelo was usually jovial, smiling, bringing her some toy or book. The voice she heard along with her father's was harsh with urgency. "We have to get you out—" "There has to be some way—" "No, Andy. He's on to you ... car, money in the glove box ... tonight. Don't go back for anything." "I'll never get justice ... avenge ... if I go!" Her father's voice rose, followed by an angry one: "There is no justice, goddammit! Not with you dead. Or your little girl. If you don't go tonight, you'll both be dead by morning. Let me take care of things on this end." "I can't let you do that, Angelo—" "Shhh." Soft clicks ushered a silence that made her hold her breath. Something was wrong. Footsteps came toward her, and she shrank back into the brush, clutching her G.I. Joe action doll. "Daddy's footsteps, Joe," she told her doll when she realized, turning back toward the footsteps. The first gunshot exploded through the hushed night, not toward her, but the footsteps quickened nevertheless. "Daddy," she whispered, despite his warning not to make a sound. "Let's go. Let's go now!" 163


She covered her ears as the shots came, hard and fast, from every direction. She heard her father calling frantically, and whirled toward him at his approach. "Eliz—" The world exploded and rained down all around her. She couldn't scream, couldn't breath, as if she was held down by some force. Daddy's not coming. Blackness beckoned her as she gasped desperately, afraid now both to scream or to breath. She went into it gratefully, but when she opened her eyes, the blackness was still there, all around her in the silence. Someone held her tenderly and her gaze locked with gentle eyes filled with fear. She tasted blood in her mouth, sharp and wet, and an unknown terror came upon her until he whispered, "I'll take care of you" over and over. Did she know him? She wasn't sure, yet she trusted him instinctively. Especially when the seizure took her ruthlessly in its clutches. Only his soft, desperate caresses and crooning loosened the grip of it. "Oh God," another voice came, and the scream rose to the top of her throat at the sound. "Is she—?" The boy who held her shook his head without averting his face from hers. "She might have epilepsy." "What?" said the other voice in surprise. "It's out of my hands now. We have to go back." The boy looked up, and she heard the soft anger in his voice when he said, "She's scared. She just had a seizure. How do we know whether this was the first time?" 164


"We have to go now. Trust me. The Network will take care of this." As they stood with the tall man, she clutched the boy's hand, afraid he wouldn't take care of her the way he'd promised. She had to be with him. She was so afraid, all she knew was that she had to be with him. He nodded, turning back to her. "I'll take care of you," he whispered again, as much a promise as before he'd talked to the other man. Like she weighed nothing, he lifted her. She needed an answer. "Who are you?" His mouth came close to her ear when he whispered, "The one who takes care of you. The one who never leaves you." **** "Vincent..." "Wake up, Kira. I'm here." Tender hands stroked her face, and she opened her eyes. Vincent. Quickly, she wiped her hand over her face, expecting to see blood there when she looked at her fingers. Tears. She was crying. Vincent was here, just like he had been then, until they took her away from him and put her in the white room. "Did you dream? Did you remember anything?" She nodded, casting her gaze past his head. "Tell me." 165


"He was my father. Andy. I know that. Uncle Angelo had called again, and we went there. He had that look on his face ... My father had that look when the phone rang—that dread, but it was Uncle Angelo. He was relieved, but still seemed to dread hearing from him. We went to him. And my dad was thinking of my mom. She died. He used to cry about it, when he thought I was asleep. That night, I hid in the bushes and he told me to stay there and not say anything. Then he went to talk to Uncle Angelo, who said we had to go again. We were always running. This time, he had a car for us and money in the glove box. Daddy said he couldn't leave. There would be no justice if he left, but Uncle Angelo said he'd take care of that. And then ... the gunshots. He was killed. My father was running to me when it happened. He called "Eliz—" ... and then ... I didn't lose my memory. I don't think I lost my memory when it happened. I think I was afraid to let myself remember. I repressed it, and when it tried to come back, it came in nightmares, and..." "You had a seizure," Vincent finished. Kira couldn't control the horror blinding her to everything except the realization that her father had been killed and his blood had rained down on her. She'd felt like she was suffocating when it happened, and she'd blacked out, only to wake and find Vincent holding her. Like a newborn baby bird did as soon as it emerged from its shell, she'd trusted the first person she saw. Was that right or wrong? Vincent had come for her when she was in the white room. He'd promised he would take care of her and he had. 166


Was he really to blame for her father's death? He'd disobeyed Angelo when he told him to make sure he and her father were alone at the end of the street. If he'd done that, maybe her father would be alive now. She wanted to blame him, but he'd spent the last fifteen years trying to make up for that. He had no life outside of fulfilling her needs. "Do you love me?" she asked on another wave of rising horror. "Do you really love me, Vincent? Not as duty. Not as penance. Can you really separate what you feel obligated to do with what you genuinely feel?" His eyes sparkled like diamonds as he stared at her. "I don't know. I don't know if I can separate it. But I know I've never been as scared in my life as when I realized you were gone and I couldn't find you. Every minute until I found you was murder. I know I don't want anything else in the world except to be safe with you. To disappear." It wasn't enough. The agony mounting inside her spread too quickly for her to contain. He must have seen it, too, because his grip on her tightened. "I know what I feel, Kira. When we kissed the night before you left, you touched me, I touched you. I knew I'd never need a single thing more. I've never wanted a woman the way I want you. I realized you were attracted to me the first time I caught you watching me in the shower. I didn't want to face it—I had to keep my head clear, focus on the mission of protecting you, so I buried it. But when I realized I felt the same about you ... it's been eating me up..." 167


His jaw clenched tight enough to break. "But you're right— I can't separate it from what I've known I had to do the minute I laid eyes on you. I wish I could give you that, if you need it, but I don't know if it's enough to convince you my love is genuine." His honesty didn't make it any easier for her to accept. When she turned away, he let her go. "Can you honestly separate our history from your own feelings, Kira—any more than I can?" he asked quietly. "Or maybe you don't feel for me what I feel for you. Maybe knowing I could have prevented your father's death..." He was right. She couldn't separate everything they'd gone through from the new dimension their relationship had taken on when they kissed. She couldn't separate the elements, but she couldn't accept the possibility of love given out of duty or obligation any more than she could sort out her feelings about her father's death. That seemed like a lifetime ago, and, truthfully, it didn't feel like her memories. Her quest for the truth was stronger than it had been before, but her complex feelings for Vincent were more immediate. "Make love with me," he said softly, and Kira couldn't imagine the courage it'd taken for him to suggest it, knowing she couldn't believe in what he offered her. "The truth will be there. We can find it if we try. Give me what you've never given any other man, Kira." Tears filled her eyes. He knew she'd kept her virginity intact. She'd saved it for him. When she remembered the tangle of emotions she'd been faced with after merely kissing him ... No, there were no 168


answers there. Only more confusion. She loved a man she was terrified to love. How could she take the risk again that it might not be real? If even he couldn't separate his obligation from his true feelings, how could she ever hope to? She slipped from the bed, wishing she could close her ears to his desperate plea. "Don't leave me, Kira." But her heart wanted to heal him now, just as it always had. She wanted to give to him the way he'd never asked or allowed before. This could be her last chance to be with him. Tonight she would think with her heart and soul instead of her head and fears. When he came to her and turned her to face him, she didn't move to escape. The desperate touch of his lips against hers wasn't something she could remain impartial to for long though. She had to have him. She wanted to be with him, the man, not simply the caretaker who'd sheltered the weak invalid for as long as she could remember. When he grasped her face in his hands, their kiss both sweet and savage, the strength drained from her legs. He lowered them to the floor on their knees, their mouths devouring each others' as if they'd waited a lifetime. As if they might never kiss again. "Let me love you," he barely broke away to plead. She didn't want his altruism. Not tonight. She drew further back. "Let me love you, Vincent."

169


The fierce desire in his eyes only increased, glowing brighter and hotter when he brought her back to him. "God, yes," he whispered Kira reached for the clothes he wore, peeling them away as he simply stared at her without inhibitions, the way she'd wanted him to for so long. Stared at her throat, her high, ample breasts already diamond-hard with desire, the dip of her stomach, and the narrow strip of hair between her legs. She wanted ... wanted everything that could be had with him immediately. Now. Without delay. Yet he couldn't seem to do anything except worship her in a paralyzed glance. Until she reached for his hand and brought it to her breast, she hadn't realized he was waiting for permission. She would have chuckled at the ridiculousness of the old-fashioned inhibition if she'd been able to react to anything but the feel of his palm cradling her breast. Need seemed to unlock him, and he raised his left hand to cover her other breast. "Vincent," she whispered, tortured, pleasured, released when he stroked her. He closed in on the wide centers with thumbs and forefingers, coaxing her nipples out even further with his caress. Her breathing grew ragged; she wanted him wild, too. Gathering her breasts together, he lowered his head and lashed at both of her nipples at the same time. Arching her back, she offered herself to him fully. On a whimper, she pushed her hips wantonly against his. When he lifted his gaze, he found her watching him hotly, and she couldn't feel anything but a sense of destiny. The 170


confidence, the certainty of what they were doing, didn't waver in his expression as he sucked on her nipples. Murmuring in sweet agony, she speared her fingers into his hair while he worked over her body, kissing, licking and nipping his way slowly down to her bellybutton. Her moan when he drove his tongue into the suddenly erotic indention had her dropping to her knees and putting her arms around him as he stood over her, waiting for her cue. Her hands cupped the satin steel of his buttocks firmly, her fingers caressing as her face brushed his arousal. A growl bled from him. Invigorated, she pressed kisses against muscles that jolted beneath the surface. Straining slightly, she raised herself higher to run her tongue over the hard lines of his stomach, into his bellybutton, and he held her head loosely to him, his legs gluing themselves in place even as he bent his knees slightly to give her easier access. She felt the thrill of her own power when she pleasured his hard flesh with her cheeks, her nose, her moist, closed lips. He muttered her name, telling her she should stop yet remaining wordlessly rooted to the spot, waiting to see what she would do. I've waited a lifetime for this moment. Saved myself for this moment. Saved up all my love for him. Kira raised her head to look at him, and his hands cradled her face in a tender gesture that didn't refute the shudder that ran through the length of his body when she shed her final inhibitions. The ease and greed she felt doing things she'd only imagined in half-asleep fantasies she told herself she wasn't responsible for, filled her with triumph. 171


His legs trembled, but she didn't stop even when he crumpled to the floor on his knees. She dropped with him and came after him again. He let out a long groan, holding her head while his body danced uncontrollably to her rhythm for a moment before he lowered them both back to the floor. Then he raised his thigh, slipping it between her legs and rubbed his knee slowly against her. Without barrier, he had to feel how aroused she was. When she climaxed, shuddering and panting, Kira nevertheless didn't allow anything to penetrate her concentration as she drove him to do the same. She took all of him, too, hanging on tenaciously. His body shuddered and he strangled on a groan. As he gulped in air, his legs fell back, bent, to the sides. He dragged her into his arms. "Let me make love to you, Kira. I want to be inside you," he muttered thickly. At this moment, she wanted nothing else more than to simply blank out anything but her love for this man. Not for the memories that could give her answers to her whole life. She didn't even care about the answers to her past, a place to belong outside of here. Vincent was all that mattered. Vincent eased her back to the floor, came over her long enough to make her breath slam into her throat and hold there as he kissed her lips, her throat, the straining tips of her breasts, and finally, he eased himself lower to press his mouth to her most secret place. When her hands instinctively clutched him, he pushed them up to her breasts, guiding, while he worked against her flesh, making her utter half-sobs. How could she doubt they were meant for this moment? Meant to be together? It was as though they'd come together 172


before, forever, as he rose over her trembling body. His arousal touched her damp flesh, and then he was pushing inside of her, strong and sure. She took him without the slightest resistance. Her breath left her throughout that ascent, her head thrashing back and forth as she gave herself up to what would fill and complete her. God, I love you, Vincent. I love you, I want you. I don't care about anything in the world but this, with you. You're made for me. I'm made for you. She couldn't believe anything but that he was thinking the same thing when she wrapped her arms around his neck and stared into his eyes with tears in her own. She could have stayed there for all time, clinging to the perfection of a moment she'd never forget as long as she lived. But she closed her eyes against the tears, found his mouth with hers, and they began to move in a friction that built quickly toward a full-blown flame. Vincent drove into her again and again, tethering her to reality only by the harsh satisfaction of their breathing, his groans co-mingling with hers and then their pleasure breaking over the same shore to collapse together. Together. Forever. Destiny fulfilled. So lost was she in the intensity of the world they'd created together, she didn't realize it was over for long minutes. His kisses on her face roused her. His whispers of love that he was at last complete awakened her fully.

173


"I want you," he whispered, brushing the hair from her face tenderly. "Just you. Just this. Nothing else matters to me." She understood. She was so weak from their lovemaking, yet she wanted to kiss him again. She wanted to start all over again and never stop. If they stopped ... life intruded. Other considerations began to matter. She wanted him, wanted to spend the rest of her life in this moment with him. He belonged to her, heart, soul and body. As much as she wanted that, as glorious as knowing she belonged to him just as certainly, she shivered anyway.

174


Chapter 25 "Where's Ruff?" she asked quietly, not moving from the position she'd crumpled in a heap in after they'd crawled into bed together and made love again in slow, perfect motion. "Your apartment. Piper said she'd make sure he's taken care of." He lay on his front, facing her. She was on her side, his arm cradling her breasts. His eyes never left her face as he stroked her back in small circles. "Will you help me, Vincent?" she asked weakly. "Help you do what?" he asked, but she had no doubt he knew what she wanted. "Help me find out who I am and where I come from." He closed his eyes in anguish for a moment, yet he said firmly, in a tone she well understood meant he was unmoving in this area, "No. Don't ask me to." "I have to." Making love with him had, strangely, made her mind clearer about what she had to do about her life. What to do about Vincent ... this new relationship ... that she wasn't at all clear on. "You can't. You don't know—" "I do know. You told me everything you know, didn't you? There has to be a way. We can do it together." His eyes filled with anger, yet he kept his voice gentle. "You really don't believe what I've told you. If you did, you'd realize going back for either of us is a death sentence." His fingers stopped their motion. "Look, if someone dies and the 175


body isn't found or even if it is, the family of the victim can't let it go. That happens. Nothing they do can change the fact that this person is dead. Knowing the truth of what happened won't change the fact of death either." Stubbornly, she demanded, "What does that have to do with me?" "Knowing the truth won't set you free in this case, Kira. In this case, it'll make you dead. Listen to me. Give up any idea of going after the truth." Maybe he was right. A part of her didn't believe the things he'd told her. They were unbelievable, fantastic. How could she believe it? It couldn't change the fact that she had to know the truth. "Nothing you said can be proved, Vincent, especially considering that we've lived in peace for fifteen years. If there was any danger, if this Network is as thorough as you say they are, they would have come for us long ago. We're safe. They think we're dead or something. They're not looking." "I can't take that chance." "I can." While he wouldn't accept it, from her point of view, she had absolutely nothing to lose by trying. And, if he wouldn't help her, she would do it on her own. "I can't allow you to do that." She'd known he'd say that. Drawing away from him, she said in both frustration and anger, "I'm not your obligation." Surprisingly, he allowed her to go as she sat up. He watched her with haunted eyes. "What are you saying?" 176


"If you love me, you'll help me." "I do love you. That's why I can't." She shook her head. "You've spent so many years expecting something bad to happen, you can't imagine that it won't! You can't see the obvious. It's over. Whatever it is." He didn't speak, just stared at her unflinchingly, unmoved by her pleas yet anguished nonetheless, until she had to look away. At any other time, she would have walked away stubbornly, temporarily, instead of feeling helpless to the idea of being without him for good. Maybe after finally getting the rest she needed, she could think clearly and stand on her own for once. Maybe Vincent's continued presence in her life was what had kept her from being independent for so long. If he wasn't willing to help her get the one thing she wanted more than anything else, then how could anything they'd shared be true? She was nothing but a prisoner if he wanted to keep her from finding out who she was and where she'd come from. She couldn't think about their lovemaking. She couldn't consider the love she felt for him, deep enough to drown her. Getting up from the bed, she took a breath and said in a trembling voice, "You have to stay away from me, Vincent. You have to stay away from Kira Gunn Industries. Get rid of all that equipment in your apartment. I'll get rid of it in mine and within the company. If I have to, if you force me to, I'll get a restraining order against you." His pain filled his expression like a dam on the edge of breaking. He sat up as though he could barely get his limbs to work. Swallowing, his jaw tightened. "If I don't help you find out about your past..." He looked away, looked back at the 177


bed, the floor where they'd first made love. His voice was so soft, she found herself straining to hear him. She was afraid to hear his words, afraid she wouldn't be able to stand strong in the face of his pain, but she had to listen. "...none of this, nothing we've ever shared, means anything to you? Do you hate me that much, Kira?" She shut her eyes tight against what she couldn't allow to matter right now. She couldn't hide ever again, and that was all Vincent was offering her. Love in the shadows. Questions without answers. Life in death. "I love you. Our life together, every part of it, means everything to me, Vincent. But I can't believe in your love if you don't care how empty and helpless I feel with no past. How can I ever be strong enough to feel like a whole person if I don't even know who I am? Who my parents were and what my life was like with them?" "I want you to heal," he said helplessly. "I've spent my lifetime trying to help you do that. But there's nothing you can do to convince me to risk your life, even if it means you live the rest of your life feeling weak and helpless. I'm sorry. I'm sorry the life I'm offering you isn't enough." A man who'd spent fifteen years making sure she had everything she wanted and needed, her every heart's desire, was willing to let her spend the rest of her life miserable when it was within his power to give her the answers if they just went looking for them. No, he couldn't love her. Not the way she needed him to. She dressed in still damp clothes, and he watched her with his fists clenched ruthlessly in his hair. When she moved 178


toward the bedroom door, he whispered, "Don't go, Kira. Stay with me. Please." Facing him ... God, she wanted to heal him, as always. She knew now that it'd never been in her power to do that for him. She couldn't stay, but she couldn't leave him feeling this way. "Find a life, Vincent," she said without turning to him. She couldn't look at him or this room, where she'd had everything she thought she ever wanted happen to her. "Find out who you are. You have that opportunity now." "No." She knew if she looked at him, his face would be devastated and angry, unwilling to give himself the freedom she wanted him to have. As she fled the cabin, she remembered him saying, "If you didn't wake up when you did—there would have been nothing left for me. No purpose." Vincent wasn't the type of person to commit suicide. Not as long as she was alive. He was a survivor. He'd survived by himself without a family. He'd survived training, torture, being cut off from the rest of the world, putting the needs of all people above his own. They would both have to learn how to survive alone. They would have to find something else that mattered, even if it meant risking everything to get it.

179


Chapter 26 Don't let her go! Every instinct inside of Vincent told him to go after her, follow her, make sure she was safe. His fingernails dug into one of the posts on the porch as he held himself back, watching instead with his jaw clenched tight enough to break bone. Kira didn't look back as she got into the car he'd come in and drove away. Even when he couldn't see the tail lights anymore, he continued to stare in the direction she'd gone. His anger rose, retaliation of the helplessness she'd left him mired in. He'd been trained to use his mind like a computer. Every option open to him had gone through that computer to be analyzed for feasibility. Every option that appealed to him in this situation had been rejected. She'd backed him into a corner he couldn't escape. Not without endangering her further. If he followed her openly, she'd have him arrested and a restraining order would follow—one that would pose no more than irritation for him. Nevertheless, he didn't want to be Kira's enemy. If he followed her secretly ... Hell, she'd already proven with her ease of escape, the trail he'd picked up too late on every count, her vanishing act for four days, just how rusty he was at his job. Would she do anything stupid? He couldn't say for sure. Kira was emotional, but there was logic in her actions that many people outside the Network didn't possess. She was 180


stubborn but generally level-headed. She wouldn't act rashly and thoughtlessly to get back at him. Ah dammit, you never would have figured she'd run like that either ... and succeed. Vincent gritted his teeth again on the reminder of his failure. He'd believed if he let her know his feelings, allowed himself to take what the both of them wanted ... Hell, he'd been foolish enough to believe love could be enough. Despite the genius-level intelligence she'd displayed at an early age—inherited from her father, he now knew—Kira had an innocence he'd never seen before in another human being. Nevertheless, her quest for truth wasn't smart, considering the danger involved. Like most Americans, she couldn't conceive of people purposely setting out to do harm against innocents. Believing that those same people enjoyed their evil was beyond the realm of probability to the naive. If she continued her quest... What if I can't protect her? What if she won't let me? I can't risk that. But what can I do? No, he hadn't given her any information that could lead her to the Network, to 'Uncle Angelo". She had no way of going forward, but if she hired a private investigator, it wouldn't be long until the Network found her. The organization spent 24/7 making sure the country was safe ... and that their anonymity remained intact. If he had no other choice, Vincent would have to eliminate anyone she hired to make inquiries. It was the only way to keep her safe.

181


Forcibly, he tamped down the anger telling him to tear this porch apart with his bare hands. At one point in his life, he would have done it, too. When he hadn't known discipline. He turned and went back in the cabin. For an hour, he worked to erase all traces of Kira's time here. All traces of the love they'd shared. The memories tightened his body even as he grieved at them. Whether he believed there was any danger to her or not, he did it because he couldn't ignore the possibility, however slight. She hadn't left the keys to the ancient jalopy she'd brought here, but he hot-wired the thing within minutes anyway. He would go back to the city. That was all he knew for the moment. Return to his apartment. Figure out what he could do. With that mission in mind, he cleared out, stopping only to get food he ate behind the wheel and fill the gas-guzzling car with fuel to get it into New York City, where he returned it to the previous owner without asking to be reimbursed for what Kira had paid him for it. He walked to her apartment building, staring up at her penthouse windows. She was there. Her lights were on. The relief he felt gnawed as harshly at him as the loss of her did. He felt no surprise whatsoever when he entered his apartment and found all his surveillance equipment gone. She'd left the guns though—for what reason? Did she really believe in the threat against them and didn't want to leave him defenseless? Sinking onto the sofa, he tried to think, but he hadn't slept since ... since the night she'd kissed him. He'd known she 182


wanted to escape, so he didn't allow himself to sleep. He'd been trained to function at top performance on next to no sleep, no food and little water, but he was past the point of exhaustion. 'Find out who you are,' she'd told him. Who was he without Kira? How could he function when she was always his first thought as well as his last? How could he shut off his most basic instincts? She didn't want him in her life anymore. What options did he have? Vincent closed his eyes. Even his mind wouldn't be closed for a few moments of rest. Kira knew what he knew. She knew what he'd tried so hard to shelter her from. "He was thinking of my mom. She died. He used to cry about it when he thought I was asleep." According to Kira's memories, there'd been feelings between Andy and the woman who bore him a son. And the mother had died, possibly been killed, if Andy's need to gain justice had been about her death. Would what Kira now knew of her enemy make her cautious? Is the Network the enemy? Did Angelo terminate Andy because he compromised security? Until Kira had insisted the man killed was her father, Vincent had concluded the enemy had to be outside the Network. That Andy had been killed on a mission he and Angelo had teamed up for. That Kira had been in the wrong place at the wrong time, and God only knew what she was doing out there by herself. In the years he'd been a part of the Network, he'd been told contradictorily that they were his only family, yet 183


relationships—any relationships at all, even friendships—were discouraged. It made sense only because operatives were killed in the line of duty; loyalty had to be to the mission, not the team members. If an operative went down, friendship could become more important than making sure the mission succeeded. Dangerous risks might be taken to rescue another operative who was a friend. And an operative who grieved was one whose loyalties were divided. As hard as they were trained to be like robots who did what they had to do and didn't think about anything else, didn't get emotional, Vincent had seen friendships among operatives. The relationship between mentor and recruit was the only one encouraged, supposedly to prepare for the possibility of an operative turning against the Network. An uncertain operative needed the approval of their mentor to keep them on track and loyal. Until Kira had entered the picture, Vincent's loyalty to the Network had never wavered for an instant. Somehow they'd known from the first exactly what Vincent needed. Angelo Pluzetti had been a mentor and a father figure to him. Vincent had spent fifteen agonizing years wondering if the man who had become his father had betrayed the Network. Betrayed Kira. Betrayed him. 'Were you brainwashed?' Kira had asked, the way he'd expected her to. Never before had Vincent viewed his training as a form of brainwashing. He believed in the purpose of the Network, even if it did mean that sometimes lambs were slaughtered simply because they were in the way or had seen something they shouldn't have. As much as possible, that had 184


been avoided—something he'd always been convinced Angelo saw to personally. Yet it did happen occasionally and he hadn't allowed himself to dwell on it. To save the world, losing a small percentage of the population was an acceptable risk. Could Angelo have killed Andy—someone Vincent would have said was a close friend to him? Angelo would never betray the Network—of that Vincent would have staked his life. Yet it was just as unthinkable to him that Angelo would kill a colleague in cold blood, not even in the pursuit of security. Was it possible that the reason he and Kira were still 'at large' was because Angelo had somehow erased the trail following their disappearance? While he couldn't get himself to view the Network as the enemy, he had to proceed in that direction whenever he considered what they would do to Kira if they found out she knew about them. The buzzer near his door went off, and Vincent sat staring at it warily. He rose, not permitting himself the hope that Kira had come to him. With one hand on his gun, he pushed the intercom button. "Yeah?" "I have a delivery from a Kira Gunn, KGI. Can I bring it up?" Vincent's instincts were too honed to agree to that. "Leave it with the doorman." "All right." A minute later, Vincent called downstairs. "Did someone just leave something for me?" "Yes, sir. It's an envelope." 185


Vincent noted immediately that it was the voice of the doorman who'd been on duty when he got here. "How big?" "Standard number ten." "Is it thin?" "Yes, sir. Should I bring it up?" "No. I'll come down." His caution was unwarranted, he believed, when he retrieved the envelope. The envelope had the Kira Gunn Industries logo and held only a single piece of paper—official letterhead for the company. It was a letter of dismissal that stated without emotion that his employment had been terminated, his connection with all parts of the corporation had been severed, but a large amount of money had been deposited in one of his accounts. Vincent did the math in seconds—Kira had given him his final paycheck along with the amount of his initial investment in Kira Gunn Fashions, interest included. The extra, he assumed, was payment for his fifteen years of 'service' to her. She'd done a lot in the short amount of time she'd been back in the City, he conceded. It wouldn't be long before all her private affairs—phone numbers, door locks, accounts— were altered to bar him. He could have all the new information in no time at all. Did she know that? Or did she believe he would heed her final request? Could he consent to be extricated from her life? Following her like an unseen shadow was an option he had in his power to carry out. The only thing that had changed in all the years he'd protected her without thought to himself were the stakes. Before, he could go against her wishes because they got in 186


the way of his self-imposed duty. Hell, he'd lost her anyway ... but she'd left claiming she loved him. He'd told himself he was prepared for anything with Kira, anything she wanted. The only thing he hadn't prepared himself for was feeling what he did for her from the first time she kissed him until they'd finally made love. Being with her eclipsed his duty, his former concern for her well-being. He'd known lust. Temporary gratification. He'd used women for his own purposes—both personally and professionally. What he'd shared with Kira and felt for her now was all-encompassing. Nothing else seemed to matter to him. He wanted to see her, kiss her. Touch her until she became his again, for all time, just as he was hers. He wanted to protect her, too, but his desire to disappear from the world with her was as much selfish as it was altruistic. He was in love for the first time in his life. Without Kira ... his world stopped there.

187


Chapter 27 The curvy but well-honed red-head walked right by Vincent, halting only when he called, "Piper." The sixteenyear-old turned, saw him and immediately dispatched the group of friends around her. Vincent pushed himself off the chain-link fence and started walking in the opposite direction. A minute later, Piper Laslow fell into step beside him. They didn't look at each other. "What's goin' down, Vinnie?" "Not much. My world," he said softly. "I hear ya." With Piper's words, Vincent knew Kira had taken care of his presence in every single part of her life. "She told me she's payin' me now, Vin. She asked me to stay away from you." Vincent glanced at her, nodding. He'd chosen Piper for just this reason. If something happened to him, he wanted Kira to befriend Piper. Kira couldn't know how Vincent had trained Piper. If Kira felt protective toward the girl, it would only make her more cautious with herself. Sympathy glowed in Piper's cat-like eyes before she once more faced the sidewalk they traveled together. "How's the dog?" Vincent asked. "Little lighter." Kira had taken the collar from Ruff, but then he'd never doubted she would. Piper had been walking Kira's dogs since she was six years old. It was one of the many things Kira had let Vincent take 188


care of without getting involved in the who-does-what-andgets-how-much aspects. They came to a crosswalk, but instead of continuing forward, Piper halted, turning to him. "She cut you loose. Never thought I'd see the day. How bad does it gotta get for that?" Vincent nodded, offering only, "Bad." "You two got money. Can't be that bad." Piper's life revolved around money simply because it was what she needed and never seemed to have. Her old man had walked out on them early and her mama worked two jobs that didn't give them enough to live outside a rough neighborhood where her daughter might have been laying down the hustle in her single digit years ... or worse. Instead, she'd been coming home with a pocket full of cash—easy money—since she was six, telling her mother she was walking some rich lady's dog. No doubt her mother associated walking the dog with something illegal; she didn't ask questions. Money was money. Mama loved her baby, she worried about her, but she held the same realistic viewpoint her neighbors did: What they had was the best they could expect out of life. More than once, Vincent had regretted bringing Piper and her beloved mother into the danger anyone who knew him and Kira faced just by association. Unfortunately, he'd considered it an acceptable risk in keeping Kira safe. "I still pay you," Vincent said, easing Piper closer to the fence. "Huh?" "I still pay you." 189


Piper understood, but she looked distressed in any case. She raised a muscular arm to adjust the skull-and-crossbones imprinted handkerchief covering her long, reddish-brown hair. She wore the cloth the way men wore them, not the way women generally did. "She seemed to know you were gonna ask me to watch out for her." Vincent withdrew a satellite phone from his pocket, offering it to her. For an instant, Piper only looked at it, asked, "You want me to report back to you?" Then she took it. "The account is anonymous. It's paid for. I'm ... If she's in trouble, all you have to do is make a call." Vincent slid a card out of his pocket with a number on it. "Make the call and then get rid of the phone." Piper took a deep breath, knowing better than to ask questions Vincent wouldn't answer. A key followed, which Piper took silently. "This is for a locker at LaGuardia. Keep it with you at all times. If you have to call and get rid of the phone, there's another phone waiting at the airport. Don't use these unless you absolutely have to. If I need to, I'll call you." "There's more?" Piper asked, and Vincent could hear the strain in her usually laid-back tone. She took the passbook he held out to her. "It's your college fund. You remember it was part of our agreement when I first hired you."

190


Piper examined the book. Her eyebrows moved together when she glanced up at him in surprise. "No way, man. No way ... just for walkin' a couple dogs." Clearly, she hadn't believed he was serious about setting her up for life, yet she'd become a straight-A student in preparation for the possibility of getting out of the neighborhood her mother expected them to be in all their lives. Vincent shook his head. "You know I have to protect Kira. It's what I have to do because if I don't ... It's dangerous, Piper. And that means I've put you and your mom in danger, too. For that, this is nothing. A pittance." But Piper wasn't listening to him. She seemed to see only the string of numbers, translating into hard, cold cash. "This is dangerous, Vinnie. Serious X-row danger. Kira's a grown woman. You sure she can't take care of herself? She seems convinced she can." "She doesn't know what she's up against." It hadn't taken Piper long to recognize that Vincent had skills most people didn't have—and maybe didn't even want. She'd seen Vincent take on a crowd of thugs by himself, just as well as he out-thought most anyone he came up against. "If I make that call, Piper, I want you and your mama out. As fast as you can, far as you can go. Don't look back 'cuz I can't protect both you and Kira. She's my priority. Has to be. But you know how to take care of yourself." Vincent had seen to that himself. In the neighborhood Piper lived, knowing how to defend herself in any situation came in handy. 191


Piper closed the bank book as though she needed to clear her head of it. "This gonna happen, man?" "I don't know. I hope not. But I have to be prepared." Standing straighter, as though she'd been given a task she took as seriously as the taskmaster did, Piper nodded. "What am I lookin' out for?" "Anything suspicious. Somebody who doesn't look like they belong. Something out of place. Use the instincts you have." The ones he'd honed as much as he could with lessons that Piper hadn't fully understood but excelled at in any case ... the way Kira hadn't wanted to and had been relieved when her training ended. "All right." "And Kira doesn't know anything about this." "In the bag." When Vincent shook her hand, he slipped her a handful of bills. "Make it last. I'll get you more later." "She worth all this?" Without hesitation, Vincent answered, "And more." He walked away, his chest heavier than ever. He'd never wanted to use the possibility of Piper stepping in, but Kira hadn't given him a choice. He had to protect Piper and Kira, and this was the only way to do both. He had to prepare for the possibility that, if someone came looking for Kira, they'd also get rid of anyone who was on the inside of her life. Piper had been trained well enough that she could protect herself if she had to. And, if she had to disappear, she could. Hopefully she could also protect Kira long enough for Vincent to arrive on the scene. 192


Because he couldn't stop himself, he walked by Kira's building, saw nothing out of the ordinary, then returned to the dark hole of his apartment. He'd done the last thing he could do now to prepare for the worst. Wait it out, he told himself, even if she never comes back. The possibility was more than he wanted to dwell on. Stripping off his clothes, he closed his mind off to anything under a shower that left his skin red from the heat. He'd been sleeping a lot lately. To fill the lonely hours. To keep Kira in the forefront of his mind. He wanted the memories. He knew them by heart. Replaying them over and over was all that kept him sane. He'd kept his air conditioner off for days, and the apartment was almost insufferably hot. Crazy, but he felt closer to her because of it. She always liked her apartment so impossibly warm—an unshakable reaction to being so thin and frail as a child, he knew. Without drying himself or dressing, he lay on his bed and shut his eyes, longing for Kira to come to him, give herself to him. To tell him she didn't want him to ever let her go. What was he without her? He didn't want to find out what was left, what emerged from the ashes, when they were separated indefinitely. If what he felt was about obligation, why did it change anything? It was total, complete. It was everything. Air. Love. The only happiness. And he didn't need a damn thing outside of it. How could what he felt be allconsuming for him, but not enough for her? In a wormhole that had neither beginning or end, he stared into the darkness, clenching his teeth on his worry. 193


Is she all right? Is she safe? Does she need me? His curtains had remained drawn, unopened for days, but even in the total darkness he sensed something had changed. He wasn't alone. Barely a movement and his gun fit into his hand as automatically as a friend came to another friend's aid in a time of need. Soft footfalls issued from the living room, but before he had time to move he knew the identity of his visitor. Kira. Was he dreaming? What dream could ever be this real? It was a dream, but equal to reality. She sat on the bed next to him, and just that quickly his body hardened. "Do you love me, Vincent?" she asked in a whisper, no prelude, no greeting, no explanation for why she'd come. "More than life itself." "Then will you help me find my past?" He returned the gun to its place on his nightstand and reached for the lamp. "I love you. No." He didn't care that she'd gotten through his locked door without making a sound. She'd learned. He'd trained her himself. He'd been too focused to realize she'd become good at the cloak-and-dagger routines he'd put her through like a loving but unyielding drill sergeant. Stopping had been damningly essential when he perceived her health was suffering from it. When she stood to leave, he grabbed for her, held her arm gently, and waited. She'd come to him, now she would give him what he needed. Turning back, her eyes were narrow, her breathing ragged. When he drew her over him, she came 194


without protest. Slipping his hand between them, beneath her thin dress and finding her bare, he reveled in her readiness. She was already aroused. One part of him wanted to torment her mercilessly for leaving him and then coming back when she couldn't stand the loneliness anymore. She seemed to expect him to do that. Instead, he kissed her, touched her tenderly, made up for the separation that didn't have to be. He shared her pleasure but didn't allow himself to take on his own, not until she begged him to. She appeared unable to forbid anything. Her gaze was too hungry for that. As he drew her legs apart further, he eased himself inside of her. Vincent wanted to memorize the way her eyelids drifted down in the agony of passion. He wanted to remember for all time her sob with his first thrust and each one that followed. He wanted to fix his mind on the physical release they strove toward, but his mind splintered at having her again. Like a litany in his head, her name went around and around until he growled it over her moans. As soon as he'd shrouded them in darkness again, she turned her back on him. Their harsh breathing returning to normal, she said softly, "I remembered my mother. The sound of her voice. Sade reminds me of her voice." Vincent said nothing, just lay with his arms wrapped around her and waited for her to go on. He'd discovered by accident that the music of Sade had a calming affect on Kira during the massages he gave her. "My dad listened to Rimsky-Korsakov's 'Scheherazade, Suite symphonique'. He listened to it all the time. I remember 195


that, I don't know why, since I can't remember his face or anything important. But that must be why Scheherazade brings the nightmares." The frustration in her tone told him she'd been sleeping at least normal hours, trying to remember all she could. They weren't the memories she wanted, just pieces of the puzzle filling in gray spots rather than answered important questions. "Have you had any seizures?" he asked quietly. "No." Saying a silent prayer of gratitude, he didn't push her to take care of herself the way he would have in the past. For a long moment, they lay nestled together, the room silent save for their breathing. The heat in the room didn't allow the sweat to dry on their bodies. If he said anything, she'd leave. He knew that, and he didn't want her to go. Nothing could ever be enough with her. When his hand traveled up the slickness of her ribs, she sucked in her breath and his body hardened again at the sensual sound. He toyed with her nipple until her back arched, first moving up, then down to press herself against his groin. Vincent buried his face in her long, damp spiral curls as his mouth found her ear. "Vincent ... , can we go together and try to find out the truth without alerting anyone?" she asked as if she'd thought of nothing else in their separation. As if she hadn't considered him, their love, the love they'd made together, the way he'd tortured himself with the memories alone. "No." 196


"Then will you teach me about computers and hacking? All those things you wanted to teach me before?" He didn't have to wonder why she asked now—she was hoping to find out the truth herself, if he wouldn't help her. There was no way he'd help her do that. "No," he said again, just as firmly. "If you loved me, you'd help me. You'd care enough to want me to be happy." "You think I don't care? I've spent fifteen goddamn years waiting for your memory to come back. Waiting for you to find the answers and making sure I'd be there because I knew it'd be hard for you to face on your own. How do you think I felt when you had test after test to see if you had epilepsy or some other disorder, only to have the doctors confirm what I always feared—the seizures must be psychological because they couldn't find anything medically wrong with you? I couldn't save you from that. If the seizures come back, I won't be there for you. "I want to give you what you need to be happy. For years, I saw you not sleeping, avoiding sleep because of the seizures, needing it. I know your health has suffered all these years, even though you're not sick anymore and you don't look sick at all. It killed me not to be able to do anything to give you what you need to heal. I know that hole in your past eats you alive. Don't you think it does the same to me—not knowing? You lost a father. I lost one, too, the only one I've ever known, when I disappeared with you. If I go back, I might find out the truth you need, that maybe we both need, but we won't survive it. I need you; I can't risk you. I want to 197


be with you. I want a future with you. That's all that matters to me. Stay with me. Forget all the bullshit you're telling yourself. I don't want a life without you. You don't want a life without me—tell me! We can't have the past, but we can have each other. That's all I need." She looked stubbornly betrayed by his words. "I don't want a life without you either, Vincent. I miss you all the time. I wake up every morning wanting to talk to you first. To see your smile and hear your voice. To see you all day. I want to go to bed with you at night and make love constantly. I'll never forget how it feels to be with you. You haunt me every damn second of the day. I smell jasmine, and all I want is you to touch me. I want to hold you and never let you go. But how can I ever believe you really love me? I can't. "Don't you understand that I don't want your protection? Didn't you ever consider how it made me feel, for so many years, to know how strong you were and how weak I was? I don't need you to protect me. I don't need you to take care of me, like I can't function without your help. I don't want you to feel obligated to me, to feel I'm your duty in life. I don't want a life of running, being afraid, being half a person. I want a life with a past, as much as I want the present with you." What could he say? What more could she say? She killed him with every word because he hadn't realized the depth of her resentment for his care-taking and because they were at an impasse he couldn't find a way around to bring them to the same place. "I can't, Kira. I can't give you a past. I want to, but I can't do it." 198


She swallowed with difficulty, but the set look on her face didn't change. "Then we don't have a future." He hadn't expected the dart that pierced him like a fiery poison. Like an entire arsenal let loose on him in one burst. Had she come to him for information? Made a feint to leave the first time he refused tonight? Would she use him sexually in order to entice him into going down a road he'd blockaded long ago? Would he be able to resist her even if he knew her intentions? A paralyzed silence followed her cruel declaration, then he drew the lobe of her ear into his mouth, bit it, then soothed it with his tongue. She gasped, realizing he wanted to punish her for the death sentence she'd issued him. He pressed himself to her bottom. Helplessly, she arched her back against him, and he cradled and stroked her. Her every protest, every defense crumbled. She was crying when she managed weakly, "Oh Vincent ... yes." He lifted her over him and entered her easily. If he'd intended to punish her, that ended on a long and low groan of ecstasy mingling with her agonized sobs. He wanted to be angry that she'd missed him, used him, wanted him as much as he wanted her, but she was here. He didn't care. Dammit, he didn't care about anything except this. She rose, arching her back. His penetration made him feel splintered. His body jerked as his climax slammed through him. She collapsed on top of him. Rolling to his side, he drew her into his arms. Holding her was all he wanted now. To breathe with her and sleep with 199


her. Then to wake and have her over him. To wake to one last kiss. Just one more. To hear her say his name like there could never be another man she'd give herself to this way. If he spoke of love inevitably, she accepted it in the moments they had. The things she felt went unspoken yet he understood them nonetheless. She was no more ready than he was to let go of a relationship that couldn't be explained nor abandoned, but she was too damn stubborn to give up on what she believed she needed more than anything to be complete.

200


Chapter 28 A dream? All a dream? Vincent was alone when he awoke. The physical traces were gone. Her presence. Her clothes. The sweat and fluids on the wildly mussed sheets were real. The scent of her, of them, was real. The pleasantly sharp ache in his body was undeniably real. "Damn you, Kira," he whispered. You tell me to stay away from you, then you come to me. You make me wonder if it's me you want or what I know, what I could discover if I was willing to let both of us be destroyed. You tell me to find who I am, find a life without you, and then you let me lose myself and everything I want in you again. He sat up and dialed the number of her secretary at KGI. "Who's calling?" Terry asked cautiously. "It's Vincent." "Didn't you receive the letter? She won't take your calls. I'm sorry." Terry hung up, and Kira's actions appeared even more inexplicable. Nothing had changed. How the hell could nothing have changed after last night? And when would she come to him again?

201


Chapter 29 The black hole Vincent found himself in a week later was deep enough to create a desperate man. His training was all that kept him from calling Kira, demanding to see her. He'd satisfied his mind she was still in New York, still working. He couldn't escape the terror that she was preparing to get the truth of her past on her own, one way or another. Why else would she suddenly be so interested in computers and hacking? If he didn't teach her, he had no doubt she could teach herself and in no time at all. Knowing her the way he did, he couldn't doubt that before long she would be able to get into any system—the combination of her intelligence and stubborn determination was unmatched and unpredictable. And then he wouldn't be able to protect her. The questions in his mind were simple: What could he give her, say to her, do for her that would make her want him back in her life? What could he do to prevent her from going on a dangerous quest alone? He knew Kira better than anyone. She was a mule. When she decided on a course, nothing diverted her attention from it. Nothing. His love wasn't enough. She didn't believe in his love. She'd left him with few options. The answer chained in the blackness with him, the way around the impasse they were at, came to his clear head now: Give her memories some form. Substance. Facts. Give her the why of her parents' deaths. Get her past for her. Still dangerous, still a death sentence, but he had the training to sneak around a giant without waking it. She didn't. 202


Even the thought of attempting an infiltration to gather the information was appalling, terrifying ... But a part of him acknowledged that he had no choice. He'd known for fifteen years he might have to go back, if only to quell the agony of not knowing whether Angelo had betrayed them all. Vincent set down his coffee mug. There was nothing else he could do. Would he be able to forgive himself if he was the one who roused the seemingly dormant threat and sent it straight to her? He'd come to the conclusion that Kira's escape from him Upstate wasn't so much his instincts being out-of-shape but that he'd trained her better than he'd assumed at the time. His fear that he'd break her spirit or her mind, that he'd induce more seizures, had made him stop training her before the inevitable happened. Maybe he hadn't lost his edge. He would go stealthily, proceed with caution every step of the way. Everything here had been set up so Kira would be protected long enough for him to get back to her, if need be. He couldn't go on like this. He couldn't risk her going on her own. The only way to get her back in his life was to give her her past and keep her in the safety zone, even if all he could provide were the facts of where she'd come from and why she'd lost it all. Getting what she needed, what he needed to know about Angelo, was improbable, but Vincent vowed he would do it anyway. Or die trying.

203


Chapter 30 Kira stifled a yawn as she typed in a shell command. In the past week, she'd not only gained sole independence in her life and work, but she'd also learned her way around the edges of the impenetrable computer system Vincent had installed for the company. She now knew what made it impenetrable. While she still hadn't been able to break in, she'd learned about attacking vulnerable systems with database and ftp hacks, DNS compromising, password encryption subversions and all kinds of exploits. She'd also wondered countless times why she'd been so insistent about not learning these things when Vincent offered to teach her. The truth remained locked in her mind and whatever it was, was painful. Even though she'd realized she couldn't shy from it anymore, she still couldn't guess why she feared it. Her memories of the past seemed salvaged. Her dreams were no longer haunted by anything except Vincent. No seizures caught her in a nightmare, and she was able to sleep normal hours. More often than not, she slept longer than she should. She'd come to the conclusion that her childhood before she met Vincent was completely lost to her. In spite of what could be considered progress in her life, nothing had brought her any closer to knowing who she was and where she came from. Vincent had the training to find anyone, anywhere. She'd analyzed everything he revealed, searching for a trail to follow. There was nothing there. He'd made sure of that. 204


Bracing her back to help ease the cramps in it, she thought about crawling into bed, blissfully sleeping. Though she'd learned to sleep every night, lately she felt more tired than she had all those years she'd slept less than an hour in any twenty-four hour day. As soon as she laid her head on the over-laden surface of her desk, she heard footsteps in the hall outside her office. She lifted her head to see Megan carrying a box into Vincent's office. Kira had given her the larger office on the top floor as part of the comp package with her new position in the company. It surprised her now that Megan had waited so long to move into the office, considering how her eyes had lit up at the news of her elevation within the company, at long last. Megan got here before Kira did in the morning and stayed later than she did every night. I could walk away from this forever. The realization hit Kira in the same instant it occurred to her Megan could manage the company. And she could do it with all the enthusiasm I had when I started it. Then I'll be free to figure out who I am.

205


Chapter 31 The only description that fit Vincent's feelings was going back in time. Chicago—his home, yet he was a stranger there. The sense of belonging came immediately when he entered the city. Another lifetime. Another man. He'd lived too many lifetimes in this single one that the rush he experienced should have been overwhelming. Instead, his mind was on Kira. Was she safe? He'd gone underground before he left New York, made sure everything was in place there and secured everything else that needed to be on alert. Piper would be there for Kira temporarily, if need be. The time to turn back had passed. Upon arrival, Vincent got himself a room at the O'Hare Hilton hotel. Inside his bag, he had a smaller bag which he put in the hotel safe. Then he found a cheap hotel near the Network and checked in there with cash. He had very little luggage with him, and nothing that could be traced to Vincent Carson, former assistant to Kira Gunn. Everything in the bag he took to the second hotel could be left behind if necessary. Instead of taking the sleep he needed, he went to work on altering his appearance before slipping back out into the gray drizzle of late afternoon. The tall glass and steel building housing Expanding Technology Industries didn't look any different than any of the other corporate buildings along the street. Vincent ignored the deja vu he felt as he stared at it from a block and a half away but didn't get any closer. 206


Anybody could walk into ETI and never notice anything suspicious about it. It was a thriving business with friendly employees hard at work. The only difference was a single elevator, clearly marked for employees only. The doors of that elevator only opened with the right incentive, triplechecked with various intrusion detection systems. That elevator went past the basement, five hundred feet underground, into the bowels of the Network. There were other ways to enter and exit, some of them known only to higher level operatives. Vincent had never been content with being told to concentrate on the task at hand. He'd known there were secrets his mentor and the operational heads of the Network kept from recruits and he'd discovered some of those secrets at the expense of privileges the few times he'd been caught. If Vincent needed to later, there were ways he could get in, possibly escaping notice, to get what he needed. But that option was his absolute last choice. If he was caught, there would be no escape for him. He couldn't leave Kira all alone that way. The only choice—not without risk either—was to first approach Angelo. Determine whether he was friend or foe. If the latter, Vincent could still disappear once more. Not easily, but he could do it. If not by retaining his anonymity as Vincent Carson, then he would become someone else. He changed his position on the streets surrounding ETI several times over the next few hours before he saw his mentor emerge from the building. The nostalgic pain he felt seeing Angelo surprised him. The man had been a father to 207


him. Leaving here under cover of darkness with Kira, the only thing Vincent had regretted was the loss of Angelo. But he was no longer convinced his mentor was on the right side. That alone was excruciating to face. He'd realized as well as the Network had that he needed a father figure in his life. If Angelo had been evil or part of a criminal organization, it wouldn't have changed Vincent's loyalty to the man who'd befriended him in his darkest hour. It was only a quirk of fate that had chosen a person he'd always considered honorable as a father figure for him. Was Angelo dirty? Had he killed Kira's father, an operative he'd worked side by side with for many long years? Vincent trailed Angelo carefully in the growing darkness, remembering only too clearly that his mentor was better at everything. There were no signs Angelo was on to him when he entered a shop, but Vincent didn't take the chance of following or continuing the hunt this night. In a few days, Angelo would no doubt suspect he had a shadow. Vincent would show himself then, in a place where he could escape again if Angelo proved himself an enemy.

208


Chapter 32 "You're home early," Piper said in a wary tone of voice that told Kira she well remembered the last—and only other—time she'd been home when she arrived to walk Ruff. That time, Kira had been chagrined to realize she couldn't remember the girl's full name. Piper had been walking her dog for over ten years, and she knew next to nothing about her. Yet another thing she'd thoughtlessly permitted Vincent to take care of so she wouldn't have to. "Do you mind if I tag along?" Kira asked. The wariness remained in Piper's eyes when she glanced at her, then away to get the leash. She seemed to know Kira wanted to ask her questions, not simply walk the dog. "You're payin' the bills, Ms. Gunn," she said emotionlessly. Maybe Piper didn't dislike her, but she wasn't friendly with her in the least. She was merely respectful and polite, the way Kira's employees were at work. The way Vincent had required them to be upon threat of discharge from their employment with the corporation. Piper's loyalty remained with Vincent—that was a given; yet even knowing it brought confusion to her. The same way her employees gave her respect and deference to her authority under duress, Vincent commanded respect and deference. Few people genuinely liked him, just as few people genuinely liked her. He didn't seek friendships. At work, he was all business, just like she was. No one knew him the way she did. No one except Piper. 209


When Kira had asked Piper not to report back to Vincent, to sever her ties with him, Piper had replied coldly, "I'll walk your dog, lady, but my life is my life." Kira had flushed, insisting she hadn't meant it that way, and Piper had asked how she did mean it. "I mean if he asks you to..." She'd cleared her throat uncomfortably, wanting to avoid the teenager's penetrating light green eyes but unwilling to give her an edge. "...to report back to him, about me, I'm asking you not to do that." "No disrespect intended, Ms. Gunn, but what do I know about you? I don't see you. I walk your dog twice a day. I collect my paycheck. I got nothin' to 'report' one way or another." She'd agreed with Piper, softly telling her she'd leave her pay on the counter near the peg where the leash hung. Now she was forcing herself to endure more of those penetrating, all-seeing eyes when she joined her by the door. Though only a teenager, Piper had muscles the way Vincent did, but she was shorter and curvier than Vincent. The top of her reddish brown hair was covered with a black handkerchief with a demonic face on it. Piper looked tough. She looked mean. She talked tough and mean. Yet Kira knew Vincent would never allow someone dangerous to come near them. If Vincent trusted Piper, if Ruff did, Kira could trust her, too. Together, they moved out of her apartment with Ruff champing at the bit between them. Surreptitiously, Kira glanced at Piper as they rode the elevator down. Was she imagining the tension in the kid's hard face? Why would she be tense? What might Vincent have said to Piper about her? 210


Had he asked the girl to report back to him? Averting her head, Kira found herself wondering if Piper carried a weapon beneath her well-worn leather jacket. How well did Piper and Vincent know each other? Had Vincent trained or taught Piper anything he'd learned at the Network? It wouldn't be easy, but she had to find out what Piper knew. "You got something to say," Piper started as soon as they stepped outside, "say it." She had no trouble at all keeping Ruff to a steady pace. She caught Kira off-guard again. Surprising herself, however, she responded without hesitation, "How well do you know Vincent?" Piper's cheeks sank, the muscles in her face tense. She didn't like talking about Vincent—why not? "You mean what he told me or what I decided about him?" "I'm not sure what you mean." "I think you do. In my gut, I know how Vinnie'd act, react and think in certain situations. He's a white hat. Superhero material, straight up. Down where it counts, he's steady as a clock. I know who..." Piper glanced at her, and Kira felt completely exposed under her gaze. "...he'd fight for. Die for. Where he comes from, what he likes—food, tunes, art—I couldn't tell you the first thing 'bout that." Yes, Kira did know what she meant. She'd known Vincent longer, much more intimately than Piper did, yet she knew next to nothing about Vincent intellectually. "You don't like me very much, do you?" she found herself asking Piper. In spite of herself, she couldn't help liking the girl. She was too much like Vincent not to. 211


When Piper glanced at her again, her gaze forced her to remain steady for endless moments before she offered, "I don't know you at all, Ms. Gunn. I just know Vin believes you're worth dying for. That's all I need to know." Her words brought Kira both shame and curiosity, especially when the girl added, "You could do a lot worse than him. Lot worse." "You think a lot of him," Kira said, turning to look out at the street to avoid her eyes. "He's been like a father to me. Not what most people think of as a father. But he gave me direction, encouragement, a way to get outta the slums, like a father would, when it might've been easier to believe what I got is all there is, nothin' I can do to change it 'cuz this is where I live, where I die. He taught me I'm somebody. I'm top of my class—hard to believe, but I'm gonna get my choice of colleges. When I take my mama outta this place, we'll never look back, that's for sure." The heat in Kira's face increased. Vincent—a father. He'd inspired this girl to think of him as a parent, maybe not in word, but in deed. He'd provided the encouragement, perhaps the financial ability, to make Piper think about college and great things for herself and her mother. Kira wasn't surprised by any of it. Vincent had done the same thing for her. "What do you know about him? About us?" "Like I told you, I walk the dog. That's all I know." "Have you seen Vincent lately?" she persisted. Her expression was unreadable, but Piper shook her head in any case. "I don't know anything about what's goin' on, Ms. 212


Gunn, but, whatever it is, you better believe his loyalty to you. He doesn't think about himself. Ever. You're always first. These days, that don't happen too often. People today protect themselves. It's a battlefield out there and people avoid gettin' into heartache and shit over other people. Vinnie's not like that. Not when it comes to you. You could hurt him a million times, and he'd stay faithful to you. He wouldn't blink an eye when he took you back. I don't even think his feelings would've changed for you." Kira had intended to ask her if Vincent had ever revealed anything at all about her or himself. She couldn't speak now, not hearing what this tough kid thought of her decision to end her relationship with Vincent. Piper didn't know the whole story. But Kira had tormented herself over what seemed like a stupid but essential decision. Not paying attention to where she was going, Kira crashed into something hard and then she was shoved back forcefully. "Watch where you're goin'," someone hissed at her. Kira had no time to react before Piper had the drunk on his face on the sidewalk, just like Vincent had taken down the two guys who'd tried to rob them. "Back off, old man, before you end up down here in a pool of blood." Ruff was barking viciously on his leash, which Piper continued to hold, as if to validate her statement. Angry and embarrassed at her lack of instincts to defend herself or anyone else, Kira started back to her apartment with Piper not far behind her. Vincent had asked Piper, either in the past or recently, to protect her. If he'd done that, then 213


he must have trained Piper in the way he'd started to train her. Her seizures and overall health had made him discontinue the training. Damn her weakness, but she'd been relieved when the relentless drills stopped. Piper's instincts to defend were immediate. If she'd been stronger, instead of allowing Vincent to take care of nearly every aspect of her life, she could defend herself. "Maybe you make it more complicated than it needs to be," Piper said suddenly, infuriating her when they entered her apartment. Before Kira could respond she went into the kitchen to get Ruff fresh water. When she came back, she said purposefully, "If you need anything, call me." Kira was too upset by her parting words to say anything, but Piper left her with the clear impression that she could go to Vincent, pick up where they'd left off—for a night or a lifetime. She wouldn't do it. Not unless he admitted that whatever danger might have been following them was gone. Not unless he agreed to help her find her past. She already knew he wouldn't do that. And, damn it all, she was beginning to believe there was no way to do it herself either.

214


Chapter 33 Vincent recognized only some of the people who came and went through the various doors of ETI. He wasn't surprised by the number of faces he didn't recognize, but he knew quite a few who came and went. Giles Jameson's silver-streaked, every-hair-in-place head and Armani-suited frame exited from one of the non-public exits once the next day. Commonly referred to as #2, Giles was one of the most unlikable heads in the organization. His position as head of operations gave him power limited only by #1—Shannon McKee, liaison between the government and the Network and the only person ever 'born' in the organization. Her father had been the first head of operations when the Network came into being. McKee had her office in Washington, D.C. Giles and Angelo were the only people in the Network who had access to McKee. Giles made all final decisions with very little interference from #1 and the governments around the world. Angelo came and went almost a half a dozen times, which told Vincent there were no missions going out currently. Though he had luxurious quarters in the top portion of the ETI skyscraper, Angelo also kept an apartment on the outside, and he went to it a few times. Once, he went to the Navy Pier for lunch. He also paid a visit to two other apartments Vincent knew were Network owned. When he'd been an operative, he'd known whether a mission was taking place or ready to commence just by the buzz he felt in his gut on the sidewalk outside the building. A 215


part of him wanted to get inside just to see the changes ... or the lack of them. He'd given up that life when he took Kira, yet it remained an unmovable piece of his existence. The Network had given him discipline, purpose, fulfillment. He'd felt like he was accomplishing something in his life with every successful mission. Every failure—though rare and never his fault personally—had worked the opposite. He'd felt that deeper than a bullet. Until Kira had come along, he'd put everything he had into the directives of the Network. When he returned to his working hotel room—a new room from the day before—the hollowness in his gut seemed to echo in the cramped, dark space. He removed his disguise carefully. If Angelo had turned, was the Network now corrupt? Vincent knew only that Angelo had once been a 'company man'—CIA—before he'd been recruited into the Network at a fairly young age. As Master Strategist, Angelo had almost as much power as #2. It would be hard for him to have his own agenda—mission parameters weren't set up that way—but Angelo was smart. If anyone could find ways to complete a mission successfully while working it in his favor, Angelo could do it. Unless #2 was corrupt as well. Giles Jameson was a ruthless man. Very little was known about him under the surface, but he'd been recruited when he was only twelve. He'd seen something he wasn't supposed to see. The Network had given him a choice: Join or be neutralized. Jameson had grown up within the rigid walls of the Network, he'd excelled, he'd killed without emotion. He purposefully sent his own men to their deaths as easily as he 216


destroyed an enemy. There had been times when Vincent questioned the justice he meted out, especially in situations where innocents got in the line of fire when they could have been taken out of the situation altogether. Angelo designed missions so innocents were eliminated from the equation without harm, but the times Angelo was out on recruiting missions or some other task, he'd been unable to prevent seemingly needless deaths. Though Angelo wouldn't admit it out loud, Vincent had suspected he'd also silently questioned their head. Yet Jameson served under Shannon McKee, a woman renowned for her fairness within the Network. While #2 was given almost absolute power to act, McKee watched over the Network carefully. Corruption wouldn't go unnoticed. As Vincent, in a new disguise, stepped outside into darkness, he realized his views of the Network as an omnipotent force just could have been—as Kira suggested— brainwashed into him. He believed the Network was the dominant force in right and wrong just as much as he believed the people who served it did their jobs out of a sense of morality; they truly believed in what they were doing. Therefore corruption could no more flourish within its hallowed walls than a soul could survive within a dead body. God help the world if the Network turns against it. The thought persisted as Vincent blended into the night, sensitive to the possibility he could be followed. His feet carried him far, along paths he would have liked to forget. He stopped in front of a house he barely knew. The name 'Anderson' was still on the mailbox. 217


Lionel Anderson. Did his father even remember him? Think of him? Or was he too relieved to be free of his burden? Vincent accepted he'd never know the answer. He really didn't want to know. He continued into dangerous neighborhoods, past male and female prostitutes and nightlife that he'd, once upon a time, thrived on. The memories came on ruthlessly here... **** "Kyle, what the hell are you doing?" It was Angelo, demanding. In control. Kyle had followed him from the compound, pompously believing Angelo hadn't marked his shadow. Angelo lowered the gun he'd had pressed to Kyle's head. "I could ask you the same thing." In the dim area they'd stopped, away from the lights and action a few blocks up, Angelo's expression was beyond exasperation. It surprised Vincent a little, since his mentor never could stay mad at him. "Are you on a solo mission or meeting a hot babe who won't ask any questions?" Vincent teased, persisting in his need to know where Angelo was going. He sobered when Angelo's face didn't alter. He'd been right when he decided to follow Angelo from Network headquarters—tonight he would see some action. The rush of adrenaline he experienced each time they suited up, got in the van or jet and headed for danger, ran through him like a live wire. 218


The dead end up ahead had to be crawling with operatives. He couldn't see them, couldn't even sense them this time, but he knew they had to be there. Why else would Angelo be so pissed at him? "I wanna get in on it, man." Angelo sighed, knowing as well as Vincent did that he usually got what he wanted through sheer bull-headedness. He spit, "I should've known." "Come on, Angelo. I want something more than bringing in a stool pigeon or posing as an easy lay for the target. All that's so easy, I could perform in my sleep." "You probably could do that on any mission," Angelo muttered. The surge of pride Vincent felt at his mentor's reluctant praise went straight to his head. "Tell me what to do," he begged. "All right, okay. Sweep this block. Make sure it's clean." Vincent frowned at the dull duty. "Where will you be?" Angelo put his face scant inches from his, his teeth gritted. "You stay here, wild cocker. This is where I need you. Don't get any closer. You do, and I'll take you down a notch. I swear it this time, my adrenaline junkie." Discouraged, Vincent watched Angelo disappear into the utter darkness of the dead end street. Sweep this block? Hell, there's operatives for two blocks. Maybe more. Angelo doesn't need me here. This section's as secure as it'll get. For the first time since he'd given his life to the Network, he disobeyed a direct order. 219


Mind made up that he wouldn't get in the way or alert anyone to his presence, he'd just stay by and wait for his chance, Vincent skulked through the heavy shrubbery, still wet from the recent downpour, beside the road. He didn't make a sound, but he could hear voices. Gunshots came without warning. **** Vincent forced himself to close his mind to anything except reality as he surveyed the scene. The dead end street was more overgrown and neglected than he remembered. Old boards, dead trees and their branches and leaves, garbage littered the street. The chain link fence hung in disrepair. As if the ground still held her impression, Vincent was drawn to the place in the shrubs where he'd found Kira unconscious, less than a foot from where Andy had fallen, a bullet exploding his head. Either Angelo killed Andy that night or the killer had been hiding somewhere in the overgrown tangle of weeds surrounding the dead end street on nearly all sides. Angelo had claimed that was the case the night Vincent took Kira from the white room. I couldn't trust you then, Angelo. I couldn't take the chance because your loyalty fell with the Network every time. If #2 decided a nameless little girl in the wrong place at the wrong time had to be mind-wiped and put away quietly, dead or alive, you would have carried it out because you didn't feel you had any other choice. 220


But then maybe Kira wasn't a nameless little girl to you. Maybe you knew her and wanted to eliminate her but couldn't do it without alerting #2 to your corruption. If you killed Andy Sheppard—Kira's father—then I can't trust you now. The only other option I have is to hack into the Network's computer system, find and extract the information I need and then to disappear like blue on black. Impossible... If, when, I fail, the entire organization comes down on our heads. Kira and I will never be safe again. Vincent turned his back on the place of life-altering memories and started toward the motel again. Tomorrow he'd approach Angelo in public, providing himself with an escape on multiple sides if things went wrong. If Angelo wasn't corrupt, there was a chance he could tell Vincent what he needed to know about Kira. There was a slight chance Angelo would let him go again, though he might feel obligated by duty to inform the Network that MIA operative Kyle Vincent was alive and well somewhere in the United States. Outside of that, Vincent had no plans because it was the best option in a no-win situation. Getting the information she needed could be the only way Kira would feel whole. If she was complete, the chance she'd realize he had a place in her life was stronger and she wouldn't need to go looking for trouble. He'd already accepted in his own mind that he didn't want to be Kira's servant anymore. That would never be enough for either of them. He wanted to be her lover, her soul-mate for all time. If he got the information Kira longed for, maybe she'd agree to leave 221


New York with him—'retire' in the eyes of the world before disappearing again. Maybe this time for good.

222


Chapter 34 Vincent made his approach on the Navy Pier in the openair cafe where Angelo had had lunch the day before. Timing his steps to Angelo's, he moved close enough that Angelo felt the pocketed steel of his gun. "Why don't we sit down, friend?" he said amicably. Angelo didn't look in the least surprised when their gazes met. "Why not? It's better than the cloaked routine we've been through repeatedly for the last couple days." Vincent drew back after depositing a bug smaller than a grain of rice on the back of Angelo's jacket. They sat at the table Vincent indicated on the far north corner, both ordering bottled water to get rid of the waiter. "I'm well-aware of your skills, friend," Vincent said. "Mine are equal. I hope you'll agree with this meeting, but, if not, we can both walk away and I'll find you somewhere else, where we can do this all over again until you agree to it." Angelo stared hard at him without seeming recognition. "You have me at a disadvantage, friend. You know me, yet you haven't given me the pleasure of your name." Angelo's heavily-browed, olive green eyes were cold and aware of every movement, even those around them. He'd scanned the area and knew he wasn't surrounded—that Vincent acted alone. "You used to know me." Angelo's eyes narrowed. "And you call me friend." "I used to call you mentor." 223


After fifteen years, Angelo looked exactly the same as he always had. And Vincent's disguise was foolproof. It wasn't until his mentor said softly, 'Kyle', that the mere-secondslong assimilation began. And then the wariness in his gaze changed to what Vincent could almost convince himself was protectiveness. "You've been gone a long time, son," Angelo said finally, without emotion. Reading Angelo was like running up against an impenetrable wall. Angelo had always given him just enough to satisfy him for the moment. Nevertheless, Vincent sensed welcome, even relief, coming from him. "Are you alone?" "Yes," Vincent told him firmly. "Why? Did you miss your family or are you looking for something?" Family—the Network, the only family he'd been told he'd have once he accepted their offer. "Does my family miss me?" Angelo glanced at the waiter, who brought their drinks and left immediately. "Some of us more than others." "You?" "Above all." There was no trust in the Network, not when their ultimate loyalty went to the organization, not to the people who worked there. It had to be that way. That acceptance didn't make it any easier for Vincent to know whether he could take what Angelo handed out as unemotional truth. "But there's no return without punishment, son." 224


"I'm not interested in return." "Then all is well," Angelo said under his breath. Vincent realized Angelo wanted him to trust him. With four simple words, Angelo claimed he wouldn't reveal him. Vincent couldn't be sure why he extended the sop. "I need to know what happened that night." Angelo showed no confusion about which night, merely inclined his blond head briefly. "And you know my duty lies elsewhere." "I'm asking anyway." "There's a time and a place for everything. This isn't it. Maybe you'd like to suggest somewhere else." The Network could be watching. Angelo requested the chance to avoid detection so they could talk privately. "How do I know I can trust you?" "You don't." Vincent decoded his meaning. No matter what he did, there was a risk involved. If their next meeting was private and they went their separate ways unthwarted, Vincent might have reason to trust his mentor. It was his only chance, dangerous as it was. If Angelo turned him in, there was nowhere in Chicago he could hide. He wouldn't escape, but at least they wouldn't know about Kira. They could try torturing him for the information, but they knew Vincent would find suicide easier than betrayal. "Tonight. Hilton at O'Hare. Ask for Mr. Doe at the desk." Angelo nodded. "Come alone, or I'll kill you before they get to me." "I would do the same." 225


Vincent slipped away, alone, no tail. He would have to be careful tonight. Angelo's tactics to gain his trust could have been nothing more than a trap he'd set. The bug he'd placed could be spotted, but he knew it was working once he returned to his hotel. Angelo would discover it before long, yet the conversations Vincent overheard made no mention of meeting a former operative. Despite that good turn, Vincent wasn't willing to let his guard down an inch. He made his plans, all of them revolving around the assumption that Angelo was an enemy, one who would have to be killed if he didn't prove himself a possible friend this night.

226


Chapter 35 "Hands in the air. Turn around. Slowly." Angelo had walked into the meeting room in the Hilton after being led there by a discreet concierge. "Lock the door," Vincent directed from the opposite side of the room, near the second exit, and Angelo complied without protest. Vincent had swept the room and ducts for bugs, cameras and audio three times in the last twenty minutes. He'd also checked the area to make sure no operatives were in the vicinity. Though they'd be cloaked, he could spot a mission formation in a second. Vincent searched Angelo efficiently. He found the standard issue 45 caliber handgun where he expected to. "I'll hold on to this until we leave here." He also found a G.I. Joe action doll. Kira's doll. The one she'd been holding the night he found her. "I would have liked to give it back to her personally, but you can take it to her," Angelo said softly. Vincent shook his head, handing it back. A bug could have been planted in it. "You haven't lost your touch in fifteen years," Angelo said when Vincent allowed him to turn around. "I believe this belongs to you." Eyes narrowed, Vincent studied his mentor to see if he was being sarcastic or simply blocked out reality as he indicated with his head that Angelo should throw the bug into the wastepaper basket by the door he'd come in. "I'm more careful than I used to be," he conceded. 227


Angelo astonished him with his comfort when he said, "You couldn't have known what was going down that night, Kyle." "If I'd swept the area, I would have known," Vincent said, backing toward the end of the table that ran the length of the room, where his egress was. He waved toward to Angelo to take a seat also—not too near, not too far. "After you disappeared with the girl, I'd hoped you'd realize where the real blame lay. It was my responsibility to make sure that place was safe." For a moment, Vincent stared at him, uncertain whether to accept this as the truth. Angelo had come alone, he hadn't alerted anyone to their meeting or his at-large status. He'd removed the bug Vincent put on him, but did that mean he could be trusted, or was all of this a trap to make Vincent let down his guard? "Someone knew about the meeting that night," Vincent said. "Why were you meeting Andy Sheppard? You told me he was on deep undercover assignment. He'd been under for awhile. Was it just a drug bust gone bad? Why was the girl there?" "Is she alive?" "I told you. I'm alone. But you probably know that, if you had me followed." "I followed you. I know you're alone. Forget I asked you about the girl. I really don't want to know." Vincent had planned for the possibility he'd be followed at any point. He'd checked out of his working hotel before coming here; his important bag was still in the airport hotel safe. 228


"You know it was Andy I was meeting with that night," Angelo started, his tone low. "You know he wasn't alone. The girl was his daughter." "Not possible," Vincent said firmly, despite Kira's validation of the fact weeks ago. "It happened. It never happened before. But then it makes sense, doesn't it? Who better to get away with it?" Relationships within the Network were forbidden, whether between an operative and a civilian or two operatives. Children ... How could it go on without #2 finding out? Vincent had known from the very beginning, when he'd been given his own apartment, that he was being monitored there—everywhere. Trust was unthinkable in a setting like the Network. Andy Sheppard had been one of the best operatives in Network history. His loyalty was unwavering. Who had he broken the rules with? And how had an operative covered up her pregnancy, especially in the later months? His mind raced through all the long-term female operatives in the Network. Angelo's deep voice was hushed. "Rosalia Clark. She was kidnapped." As Vincent's memory filled in with a picture of the Comm Leader when he knew her, it was even more unbelievable. Rosalia's loyalty to the Network was just as unwavering as Angelo's and Andy's. "Legitimate kidnapping?" "From all appearances." Not only had the unthinkable taken place, but Angelo had aided it. He'd helped Rosalia by putting her in a scenario 229


where her pregnancy wouldn't be detected by the Network and where the child could be taken to safety. "Her pregnancy didn't show until her last month. After their daughter was born, the girl was placed with a civilian family, and Andy and Rosie continued in their service to the Network. They refused to abandon their daughter. They saw her often over the years, although I warned them if she was discovered..." Angelo shook his head. "Andy was working a case, an undercover one, and the drug dealer was sent up, only Terranzo didn't stay in prison. He found out Andy was an operative. Found out a whole hell of a lot more than that, too. He killed Rosie and he threatened to kill their little girl. There was nothing else Andy and I could do alone. To protect his daughter, we had to go to #2. He said if we brought the girl in, took her away from the civilian family, we'd be exposing the Network. But then the family was slaughtered. Only the girl escaped. Andy did the only thing he could do. I broke code again when I helped him disappear with the girl. #2 was furious. I knew I had to get Andy out of the country. So I called him. Set up the best I could with no time so they could vanish. "Someone found out about that meet, although I've been over it a thousand times and I can't figure how." Angelo shook his head. "Hell, I thought at first it was you. I never expected you to follow me, but I realized right away you were just looking for action, the way you always were. So I sent you to sweep. I figured while you were a block away, securing that area, I had time to sweep the dead end. It was a damn 230


stupid place for a meeting, but I had no time to prepare. I was late getting there. I screwed up and got him killed." I screwed up and got him killed. Vincent's own guilt over believing he'd been responsible for not working harder to secure the scene, to save Kira's father, dissolved a little at Angelo's words. "Why would you risk your loyalty to the Network for any of it?" Vincent asked with a lump in his throat. Angelo ran his hand through his short military cut, sighing. "Rosalia was my sister. We're supposed to forget things like that when we're recruited, but ... easier said than done." Vincent didn't reveal his shock. He had no reason in the world for believing he'd really known anyone within the walls of the Network. He hadn't even known Angelo. No wonder Kira had called him 'Uncle Angelo'. He'd assumed it was a term to explain Andy and Angelo's association without revealing the truth to a child. "If the girl was your niece, why would you want to dump her in an orphanage?" Angelo's snort of disbelief told Vincent the answer that could have all been part of the trap. There was still a good chance Angelo had made all of this up to gain his trust, as viable as his story seemed. "What other choice did I have? The only way she could be safe was to make her disappear entirely. I never imagined for a second you'd take her." Angelo's eyes were more vulnerable than Vincent had ever seen them when he added softly, "Thank you for that." 231


What better trap could he set if he wants to find Kira and get rid of her for good this time? If he makes me believe he's really Kira's uncle, his utmost concern is for her safety, I'll let down my guard and trust him. That's just what I can't do. I have to continue working on the belief that he's the enemy until I have unfaltering proof he's not. "Are they looking for me?" Vincent asked. "You'll be on the defect list until there's no doubt you're dead, or you're brought in." "Is Terranzo looking for her?" Taking a deep breath, Angelo offered, "I don't know, Kyle. I wish I could tell you." He couldn't trust Angelo, let alone anything he said. And that meant he had only one option left to verify Andy Sheppard and Rosalia Clark were really Kira's parents. He needed to get into the Network's computer system and get the files on Kira and her parents' deaths. Essentially, the Mount Everest of all hacks. Was it worth the risk? Could he return to New York empty-handed, with no way to convince Kira to let the past die and flee with him? "Kyle, you're one of the best operatives we've ever had. I know you'll work on the assumption that everything I've told you is bullshit. I'm telling you now, though—don't risk it. Disappear again. Don't dig around in graves the ghosts can still rise from." Vincent held the gaze of his mentor, someone he'd considered a father, and his chest hurt the way he didn't want it to. Yeah, Angelo would know what paths were available for him to follow. He might guess the one Vincent would take. 232


The only edge he had was that Angelo didn't know why he was doing any of it. While it wasn't enough to dissolve the danger, it was all he had. "If you don't have any choice, you know you've got bare minutes, if that." Opening his hand, Angelo didn't look away from him for an instant. He held a microdisk out to him. Vincent would have staked his life it hadn't been there when he checked him for weapons or bugs a minute ago. If he'd ever doubted it, he knew now that no one could outmaneuver Angelo Pluzetti. "Use this program to dock onto the system. It'll run automatically and trace the route to the files you need, giving you the passwords to gain access and authorizing the downloads. You'll have less than one minute to capture it on disk. Don't waste any time. Log off and leave everything. This will give you a head-start, but not much of one. If you don't use it, you know you've got no chance in hell." "I have to trust you." "That or you have to leave now, without ever finding out what you need to know. You have no reason to trust me, son. I wouldn't in your place. But I hope you do. You've pulled off what no one else has ever done—and there have been attempts to defect. No one was happier than I was when I knew the two of you were safe. I want you to stay that way." How bad do you need to know? Angelo's expression asked him the question. He'd given Vincent losing odds of retrieving it, but there was a slim chance with the help he'd provided. Unaided, Vincent would not only have to get in without setting off the intruder 233


detection programs immediately, but he'd have to tunnel blindly through layers upon layers to find the section he needed, then the specific files. He'd have to crack the passwords along the way. Once he downloaded the files, he'd have to decrypt them, if it was even possible to. On his own, the only way to do it would be with console access within the compound. Even then, he'd need a bare minimum of ten minutes to do it. In that time, they'd have him in the white room, probably sentenced to immediate termination—after torturing him to find out where Kira was. With Angelo's microdisk, he'd buy himself eight minutes before a team of operatives could come down on him. Two minutes to get the information and eight to disappear from the area he did the deed. The problem, of course, was that, while Vincent could discover whether or not the program worked before he tried it for real—he'd tried to break into the system numerous times during his years as an operative and he knew what he'd be facing this time, he couldn't be sure Angelo hadn't also installed invisible alarm systems in the program that would alert sysadmins before he got what he needed. He could be caught red-handed in far less than two minutes. Vincent took the disk and dropped it into his pocket without looking at it. When he moved backward, never losing sight of Angelo, the man watched him, remaining immobile. "Take care of her, Kyle. Make her your first priority. Don't do this if there's any way to live without it." Vincent set Angelo's gun on the table at the far end of the room from him, then slipped out of the room, following the 234


route he'd set for himself. When he circled back on the opposite side, out of sight, he saw Angelo emerge. Vincent followed him at a distance, but there was no need. Angelo had come alone. He knew that now. While it didn't mean he could trust him,—since the way to gain his trust was to make him feel secure—Vincent couldn't reason out why Angelo would try to talk him out of retrieving the information on the death of Kira's parents, unless that, too, was a way to convince him to drop his guard. Vincent found another hotel close to the airport and set up a black market hacking lab in a matter of hours. The smartest thing he could do, the safest, would be to leave Chicago now, returning to New York by taking a circuitous route. Breaching the Network's system was designed to be impossible. Angelo had given him the only way to get around that impediment. The disk was valid, he soon discovered, but at what price had Angelo given it to him? Was Angelo a friend the way he claimed he was, or an enemy who would double-cross him when there was absolutely no way for him to escape?

235


Chapter 36 Frustrated at his lack of options, Vincent walked away from his laptop, stripped off his disguise and clothes, and stepped into the shower. Kira. If he didn't love her, then why did he feel like he couldn't function without her? Why would he even be considering breaking into an impenetrable system? If he was caught, the penalty would be death. But if he went back to Kira and had nothing to offer her to prove his love, she would try something herself and get herself killed in the process. Then he truly would be dead, so what did it matter how he went? At least the Network would make it quick. How could he protect Kira from afar if he returned to her empty-handed? He couldn't keep her safe any way he turned unless she let him back in his life. He had to do this. Without turning on a light, he dropped onto the bed nude, still wet from the shower. The memories assailed him, tore at him like talons, as soon as he closed his eyes and let himself go. Forcing her from his mind required remembering a life he'd wanted to forget after he'd taken Kira from the compound. Being back in his hometown, so close to the adrenaline rush of having a sense of purpose, he didn't want to miss his life as an operative. He didn't want to. But he did, and his mind stole back to memories of his life there. Missions. Ones that had made Angelo proud of him. 236


Rubbing his eyes, Vincent sat up on the bed. Even if Angelo was true blue, even if the program had no invisible alerts built in, he had to have a back-up plan. He'd had that drilled into him over and over during his training. A successful plan never had a single path. If something went wrong, there was always another way to turn and succeed. He would have to get into the Network compound and install a tracer on the lead comm's computer that would give him access to the entire system until—not if—since it would be detected, the device was discovered. If Angelo's program was baited, it would be the only way for Vincent to get the information he needed since he would be able to gain root from the inside instead of being shut out when the alert sounded. He'd go in while many of the operatives were gone for the night, when there were no missions or closed quarter standby before one. That would reduce the risk he'd be caught quickly. If there was a mission, the lead comm's desk wouldn't be free anyway since all missions were monitored from Comm as well as from points in the field. Because security was so tight on the perimeter and the intrusion detection systems were so complex, if Angelo's disk was clean, he'd be in and out in less than two minutes and on his way back to Kira long before they came for him. He'd take all the precautions to make sure he wasn't being trailed. If he pulled it off, they'd be in no more danger than they'd been before. He'd have what Kira needed. And he'd know the truth about Angelo. For the moment, he believed it was worth the risk. 237


Chapter 37 Vincent's apartment was quiet, more so than usual, when Kira let herself in. Carefully, she lifted the switch to light the room. No movement came in response. Before she verified it in his bedroom, she knew she was alone. Vincent was gone. Kira frowned. She'd wanted him to be gone yet it bothered him that he was. Where would he be at this time of the night? What right did she have to wonder? Her disappointment wasn't mollified by the fact that she'd come to get some answers, with or without Vincent's cooperation. She'd called less than fifteen minutes ago, and, believing it would be easier if he wasn't here, she'd come right away. Shedding her coat, she walked to his computer lab and pushed the button to boot the mainframe. In seconds, the password demand came up. Kira swallowed the nervous uncertainty she felt, not about trying to break into Vincent's computer, but of what she might find there if she could get past this guard. Still standing, she typed in the words 'Jason Anderson' with the numerical date she and Vincent had met. She should have known Vincent wouldn't make it easy for anyone. Eventually, she sat down and started trying to crack his password. Each time she tried and it failed, an error message would tell her the number of failed password attempts in such a way that made her worry he was somehow receiving the error messages that warned of her attempted intrusion. Her shock became infused with confidence when, just moments before she was about to give up, the alphanumeric 238


code—loosely based on names and dates as a mnemonic— gave her an 'Accepted; proceed' message on the screen and the computer continued booting. His desktop screen looked nothing like hers or any of those he'd set up at KGI. The screen was split, the icons had been modified and all the shortcuts had been re-named. Kira sat didn't have a clue what to look for. When she tried to access his word processing program, another guard popped up, demanding the password. She closed the box and clicked on another icon. The prompt for a password came again. She typed the same password and numbers. This time, they were rejected. Gaining access to his browser proved even more difficult that getting past his first guard dog. Despite the threatening warning messages that made her worry Vincent was on his way to stop her, she kept going until she cracked this one, too. A strange screen scrolled in, asking her where she wanted to go today. Kira rolled the cursor up to the address line. She clicked on the pull-down arrow. The first address was the website of a newspaper. There were other newspapers as well. Some of the other addresses in his history were sites that required passwords. She tried variations of her name, his name, the date they'd met, expecting to be halted and booted out completely, but this time his computer allowed her numerous attempts. After her fourth try, another box popped up. 'Would you like to try the password cracker?' it asked. Frowning, Kira clicked 'Yes', uncertain what else to do. Ten minutes passed, 239


and she realized it could take days to find a password that would grant her access. After closing the cracker program, she went back to his history. This time, websites including state listings of missing persons came up. Warrants for wanted people in the United States. Has he been searching for missing person reports on me? Warrants on him? As she accessed other sites in his history, she realized they weren't as random as she'd assumed. When she counted them, she discovered most of the sites were based in Chicago. Why would he want to read newspapers from Chicago? Kira Gunn Industries had no branches there, but maybe he'd been looking into the feasibility of a branch there. Or maybe the Network was located there, or the people who could still be looking for her. What were the password-only accessible pages for? If she employed the help of the password cracker, could she decode what she found there? She didn't have the experience or time to figure out other ways to get in. Vincent could be back any minute. Several of the sites had been visited more than once in the history, so she could only guess he checked these things often. If he truly thought someone was searching for her, it made sense why he would keep tabs on them often. Vincent had told her the front for the Network was a technology-based company. He'd described it for her: 240


"A major technology corporation with branches all over the world designing innovative equipment both for public use— computers, cell and sat phones, software and the like—and things that only the Network has access to. The corporation functions just like a real business, but all the employees work for the Network." Kira ran a search of companies with that description in Chicago and came away with several leads. She printed them. Staring at the hard copy, she wondered if she could call each one and ask for Kyle Vincent. Would she happen on to anything? Kira turned off the computer, realizing she wouldn't find any specific answers she wanted here—just more questions. Outside of calling each business on the list and trying to find some leads, what could she do? She'd tried to find out more about the Network, but, as Vincent had claimed, they were invisible, hidden inside an apparently legitimate operation. She'd considered hiring a private detective, but always came back to the same roadblocks: How could she ask someone to find out about her past if first, she didn't know her own real name, let alone those of her parents; second, she didn't have a single picture of herself when she was a kid, and third, she didn't know where she was from. Hiring a detective to find out about the Network would be impossibly dangerous. She didn't want to involve anyone else. While she'd probably come up empty if she called each of these tech companies and asked for Kyle Vincent, there was every chance she'd alert the Network to her. 241


Could she and Vincent be from Chicago? Even if they were, how could she find out the truth without names or photos? Dammit. Just as Vincent had determined, she might never uncover her past without his help.

242


Chapter 38 While other operatives concentrated on their training and missions, Vincent had gone over and above those tasks. He'd set himself to finding every way in and out of the Network. Many entrances and exits used cameras, ID cards, retinal scans. The ones that didn't, the hidden ones the majority of operatives even weren't aware of, required internal scans. Shortly after he'd begun his training, he'd woken to find himself in his new quarters, with a dull pain in his back. When he'd looked in a mirror, he found a small incision near his spine. It was something he'd wondered about, asked about and received little for an explanation. Later, he'd seen that same tiny scar on the backs of other recruits. He went back to his mentor with several theories for it, and eventually he'd gotten close enough to receive a scolding from Angelo about focusing on the mission instead of trivial matters. That alone told him he was on the right track. The perimeters of the compound were heavily guarded by intrusion detection systems rather than manpower—that had been suspicious to Vincent, considering how covert an organization they were. What he'd discovered was that two transponder chips were implanted inside each new recruit, activated as soon as they awoke from the operation. One of the chips was a 'local' clearance chip, for entering the compound. It couldn't be faked. Without the implant, every alarm in the Network would go off when someone unauthorized entered. 243


The only people who entered the compound were operatives. They'd never had an enemy come through physically, either openly or in secret. The several security precautions in place at the public entries were flawless—any attempt to get past them or 'falsify' diverted the user to the white room for a thorough evaluation. There was no escape once an alarm sounded and the intruder was detained in the white room. Given that, Vincent had deduced that the implant was the final scan before someone was given clearance to enter. The second chip was a global tracking device. It could track an operative to within three feet anywhere in the world. It was completely invisible to any other system except the Network's. Somehow Vincent's global transponder had been deactivated—either intentionally or accidentally—when he'd disappeared with Kira. Otherwise the Network would have traced and found the two of them easily anywhere they went. Vincent had once overheard Angelo and Giles talking about a damaged global transponder chip in an operative. Angelo had said it couldn't be reactivated. They would have to implant a new chip. Alarms had never gone off when Vincent entered from any point in the compound; he'd tested that over and over. The only thing he didn't know for sure was whether his local transponder chip had become deactivated along with the global. The entrance he chose three nights later, the first time in days when no mission had gone out nor were operatives 244


confined to closed-quarter standby, was concealed completely by a wall of bushes. There was barely room between the outer wall and the hedge. The wall didn't appear to have a door at all, just a panel section in the seemingly solid wall. In the darkness penetrated only via his infrared goggles, Vincent attached a decoder to the panel, set it and then waited while it worked. A concealed door opened in the wall— he entered, removed the goggles and waited in the enclosed space between outer door and the wall. An elevator. Movement was little more than a vibration as the car carried him down through the multi-levels. It stopped before the inner door, and the body scan was invisible, soundless. The door opened with a soft hiss. No alarms went off. The deja vu Vincent felt as he stepped out onto the suspended platform was almost crippling. He'd never had time to experience the loss of this place. His duty had been to keep Kira safe. In fifteen years, he'd never lost that focus. He hadn't wanted to, either. She'd taken over his life and easily insinuated herself into every aspect of his being. Whatever energies he'd put into this place had gone over to her. Even if he was forced, he wouldn't want to return here. Yet he missed it. He'd belonged. For the first time in his life, he'd belonged. He'd discovered his own potential. He'd excelled—its own reward. Without this place, he couldn't have done the things he'd had to do to protect Kira. His mind hadn't forgotten a thing either. The layout of the underground compound was like a blueprint fixed in his mind. Without hesitation, he descended the suspended steps to the third level. 245


While he'd considered 'hiding in plain sight' to reach the main, or second, level, he'd decided to use the defense only as a last option, should he be unable to avoid being seen. Unfortunately, the Network didn't have broom closets or places he could hide for any length of time. Considering the sheer number of recruits within the Network at any given time and the fact that his transponder hadn't raised any alarms, everyone here would accept his presence. They would assume he was a new recruit. He wouldn't be out of place. The only two people who would realize he didn't belong were Angelo and #2. He had to avoid them at all cost, if they remained inside. After making sure the restroom was clear, he removed the duct panel, climbed in and replaced the panel. Everything was quiet on the other end when he arrived on the main level restroom in the west wing near Comm Central. He exited soundlessly. The main level was easily viewed from the second with the open floor plan. #2's office overlooked from above, through a wall of clear glass windows which could be darkened to maintain his privacy. Vincent noted immediately that the man's office was black, which either meant he was there and working or he'd left. Three hundred feet from him, he also noticed that Vlad had closed the weapons stock room. Technology section was also dimly lit, but he saw Cara Ross—'Inspector Gadget' to those on friendly terms with her—working on something, with a lighted headset and pneumatic tools. 246


In the center of the floor, where the primary communication systems were stationed, a handful of recruits and operatives worked. Some of them monitored situations all over the world on halovideos. Others did routine maintenance on the computers. The area was dimly lit at this time of night. The lead Communication and Systems Analyst station was occupied by a young woman with orangish red hair. Her gaze was fixed on the computer in front of her, and she blew bubbles with her gum like she wasn't aware she did it. It was her station Vincent needed to get to. He stayed where he was for as long as he could. When one of the operatives got up, saying they'd be analyzing something in Systems, and walked toward Vincent, he had no choice but to emerge. The guy passed him without looking up from his PDA. No one glanced his way when he wandered casually to the many computers on the floor and sat down. Not once had he considered trying to break into the secured areas of the Network's computer system from a console. There would be no escape from that. The walls would come down so fast, he wouldn't have time to rise from the chair before he was surrounded. Operatives, especially the hackers, had tried to break every single security measure—they were encouraged to. Better for an operative to break in and figure out a way to fix the flaw than to have an outsider break in. Only first string operatives, like Angelo, were allowed to access 'black files'. The red-head hadn't turned away from the laptop she punched commands into ceaselessly. She rubbed her eyes a few minutes later. The lights in #2's office went on suddenly, 247


and Vincent looked up to see Giles Jameson standing there. He used the intercom to demand impatiently, "I want that intel now, Fielding. Savage has uploaded the dry mission profiles to the panels. Teams move out soon, with or without the intel. This could be our only window. Be it on your head if they have to go without. Do we have Rascheen?" It was apparent to Vincent from the little #2 had said that Savage was now Team Leader, coordinating each mission and assigning operatives. Roan Emory was either undercover in the field or—unthinkable—dead. "Working it up, sir," Red—Fielding—offered without even a glance toward her superior. For a long moment as he concentrated on the screen in front of him, Vincent was sure he'd been spotted by #2. Then Giles growled, "How long?" "Five minutes." The lights above went out. Five minutes. Vincent had five minutes to get the tracer in place and head back the way he'd come. His experience told him the teams were waiting on a crucial bit of intelligence that had come through after the operatives had gone home for the night. No doubt the teams were on their way back in, the mission was set based on the intel Fielding was verifying, and #2 would be down here to receive it in less than five minutes. Fielding turned suddenly in her chair, clearly looking for something, then jammed a microdisk in her computer. A minute later, she jumped up and ran toward the Tech Department. 248


Vincent rose, casually slipping his hand in his pocket as he moved toward her station. The remaining two operatives in the room didn't look up from their terminals. After prying the plastic ETI logo off the top of Fielding's laptop, Vincent secured the duplicate in its place. Not wasting a minute, Vincent crossed back to the hall he'd come from, keeping his focus calm and steady. The elevator from the upper floor opened just as Fielding came back to Comm Central. He heard her verify their intel to #2, but didn't dare look back. There wasn't time to spare. The teams would be arriving in moments and the Network would be filled with operatives, including Angelo. The restroom on the third level was occupied, and he waited inside the duct with bated breath for over ten minutes before it cleared. Then he moved like he'd never moved before. The silence permeating the compound when he arrived was gone. The 'buzz' he well understood had replaced it. He kept his presence of mind enough to maintain the facade of belonging. If those he passed looked at him, they didn't really notice him. Too much was happening. He was only a few hundred feet from the suspended steps when he saw Angelo at the end of the hall. He was talking to Hunter Savage. There was nowhere to hide and operatives were coming and going as they prepared for the upcoming mission. The disguise he had on was different from the one he'd worn to approach Angelo. He could find a place to hole up in the compound until the mission left, but the longer he was here 249


the harder it would be for him to get out without being noticed. Angelo and Savage came toward him, both looking at a panel. If I was on a mission, this mission they're heading out on, what would I be doing? What would my expression be? It came back to him almost too easily in light of the years he'd been absent from action like this. Slowing his step, he felt the surge of adrenaline fill him upon nearing the locker room the teams suited up in. Angelo and Savage halted at the door. "The van will be ready in fifteen minutes," Savage said emotionlessly. "Get your inventory and assemble at the airlock in ten." Savage glanced at Vincent coming toward them. Vincent couldn't turn back. There was absolutely nowhere for him to hide.

250


Chapter 39 Kira had stared at the list of technology corporations in Chicago so many times, she'd assumed she was numb to it, until the idea came to her. Then she'd jumped up and opened the closet where she'd put all the surveillance equipment Vincent had set up in her apartment. She found a camera, turned it over and saw tiny raised letters that said 'ETI'. The name of one of the tech companies on the list she had was Expanding Technology Industries. ETI. None of the other equipment in the closet had the company name, but by that time she was too excited to consider she could be wrong. She was on to something. She knew it without a doubt. Her heart was beating wildly in growing dread when she called the number Piper had left to contact her. "What's going on?" Piper asked in worry. "Nothing. Could you just please come here now? I need to verify something." Piper's wariness of her hadn't waned, Kira saw once she opened her door to the girl twenty minutes later. She wasn't entirely sure she was doing the right thing, but she knew she had to do it. "What's goin' on? Something wrong?" Piper demanded again. Kira closed the door after her, then faced her with her arms crossed over her chest. "I went to Vincent's apartment last night and the night before. He wasn't there." 251


She'd gone last night to demand why Chicago had come up so many times on his browser. Demand if they were from Chicago, and if one of the businesses on her list was the one that was a front for the Network. Instead of finding him, she'd found the sheets on his bed a mess, the air stale yet heavy with sweat and ... sex. Frantically, she'd thrown open doors, drawers, searching for some sign he'd been there recently. Piper's gaze narrowed. "It was late both times I went. I can't imagine where he might have been. Have you seen him? Talked to him at all?" "No." "Are you worried?" she asked, illogically feeling Piper knew Vincent better in this regard than she did. "I wasn't," the teenager managed. "Have you tried calling him?" Kira nodded, betraying wordlessly just how many times she'd done so. She'd gone to work that morning, but accomplished nothing more than dialing and re-dialing his phone number. "Do you know where he is or what he's doing?" Piper shook her head, but Kira didn't completely believe her. "Isn't there some way you could contact him?" Piper's expression gave nothing away, and Kira's frustration grew more because of it. Why does she have to be so damn secretive—just like Vincent? "He's never far from you. Give it a couple days." 252


"Can you contact him? Is there a way?" Kira persisted. For a moment, Piper stared at her, her jaw tight, and then she nodded. "I can, but you gotta understand it's something I can only use in a dire emergency. Is it?" Maybe he'd just gone somewhere to get his head on straight. She couldn't assume the worst. But she felt the worst had happened in any case. "Is it an emergency, Ms. Gunn?" Piper asked again. "I don't know for sure." "Then I don't recommend it," Piper told her with gentleness she didn't expect from her. "If it's a life and death emergency, I'll do it. If he's gone, he'll be back. Just keep tryin'. You know he wouldn't leave you for long." Do I know that? She'd asked Vincent to help her uncover the past. She'd never asked him to do it on his own. But her instincts told her that was exactly what he had done. He'd felt she'd given him no other option. "Has he ever mentioned Chicago to you, Piper?" This time she could tell Piper's answer was genuine when she said, "No. Why? You think he might be there?" She wasn't sure, but if the Network was headquartered in Chicago, she'd never find him because his return to the Network meant he'd have no way out. He'd said operatives couldn't come and go as they pleased. While Kira had convinced herself the danger Vincent believed still loomed over them must be exaggerated, especially after all this time, she couldn't stop the dread that'd been building in her since she realized he wasn't just 253


out getting food or running some errand. He was gone. He'd been gone for at least a week. Guilt overwhelmed her when she remembered her last words to him—ones she'd subconsciously known she couldn't live with forever. From the moment she asked Vincent to stay out of her life if he couldn't really love her, she'd vowed she'd be the one to make the decisions in her life from now on. She'd take care of herself for once. Right now, she couldn't escape the irony that Vincent had been the one to train her how to do that. Her life was her own now, but she still missed him. "Piper, can I see the phone he gave you? I promise I'll give it right back and I won't try anything. I just want to look at it." Piper looked suspicious, but she pulled a small satellite phone out of the pocket of her jacket nevertheless. Kira took and turned it over, searching for the raised stamp that would tell the manufacturer of the phone. She found it on the back, and her head felt dizzy when she saw the words, 'Manufactured by ETI of Chicago, IL'. ETI was the front company for the Network. Kira was sure of that now. And Vincent had gone there to get her what she'd asked for, afraid she'd somehow find what she was looking for and go after it herself. She heard Piper speaking after she handed the phone back and left her in the foyer, but she knew what she had to do now. She went to the living room and picked up her own phone. Following her, Piper watched as she dialed the phone 254


number listed for ETI. When she got a menu, she chose a customer service option. "What're you doin'?" Piper asked, but Kira ignored her until the girl pulled the phone away from her and disconnected. "I have to find him. If he went back ... he must have told you how dangerous it was to do that." "Don't you make it any more dangerous for him." "I won't. I just..." She needed to talk to him. "Give me my phone back." "I can't let you do anything that'll endanger you or him," Piper said forcefully. "I just want to verify something." "Tell me." "Vincent told me the place he comes from is fronted by a technology corporation. I think it's in Chicago. I'm sure of it now. I think ETI in Chicago, the company that made your satellite phone and some of the equipment Vincent used, is the front. If I can find him, maybe I can stop him from doing something that could endanger him. My uncle works for the organization. I'm sure he'd help me find Vincent." And Angelo might help me remember who I am and where I come from. Finding the truth of my past has to be worth this one small risk. Piper shook her head. "You can't do this. You don't know what kinda affect it could have." Staring at the young girl, Kira was certain there was no way Piper would allow her to make the phone call in her presence. Piper couldn't know that the few memories Kira had salvaged about her uncle Angelo had mostly been good. 255


Angelo had been kind to her. She believed he'd been trying to help her father. He would help her if she asked it of him. He would tell her what she needed to know about her past, and he would help Vincent get back to her. Kira sat down on the floor by the table, nodding. "All right. You're right. I won't call." "Why don't I believe you?" Piper asked without surrendering her phone. "Take the phone number if it makes you feel better. It's the only copy I have," Kira welcomed. She'd memorized it long ago and dialing it a moment ago had implanted it firmly in her mind. Besides, all she had to do was hit re-dial. Piper seemed to realize that, too. She dialed a number, then said, "Sorry. Wrong number." Then she handed the phone back to Kira. "Don't do anything stupid," she warned. "If you care about Vinnie at all, you'll leave it alone and don't do anything to send the dogs on any of us." Kira nodded submissively.

256


Chapter 40 There was no recognition in Savage's gaze as Vincent came closer. If Savage had been about to say something to him, Angelo cut him off with the announcement: "We've got Rascheen." Savage's tone was even colder, more machine-like than Vincent remembered it. "Let's go then." Vincent didn't stop to breathe in relief when the two of them passed him and hurried down the hall. His instincts told him Angelo had glanced back at him, but he wasn't willing to find out whether or not he suspected anything. He passed the locker room and rounded the corner. Thirty seconds later, he mounted the suspended platform. In another thirty, he was back on the outside, blending into the night once more. Angelo had seen him. If Angelo realized he wasn't a recruit, he had to know he was an intruder. He hadn't sounded the alarm, which could only mean one thing: Angelo had known who he was. Angelo would deduce quickly why he'd been there as well. **** Back in his hotel, bathed in the sweat of tension, Vincent checked the tracer he'd positioned in lead comm's station. It worked, but he made no attempt to access it. Over the next few hours, Vincent verified several times that the tracer remained in place. 257


Angelo knew he'd put a tracer inside, yet he allowed it. Either Angelo was telling the truth ... or he was weaving a web of deceit Vincent would never be free of once it was complete. The tracer worked and continued to work throughout the endless hours of the night. He wanted to figure Angelo's motives out, but it could go either way. Considering that the only man who'd ever told him he was proud of him, that he could always trust him, was corrupt brought a sense of utter disloyalty to Vincent. However, he'd been trained too well to dismiss the possibility. Things happened to people to change them. If Angelo had killed Andy Sheppard and was now hunting his daughter for whatever the reason, then he couldn't be the same man who'd slammed Vincent against the wall and told him to never again call himself a failure. He wasn't the same man who'd called him 'son', who'd taken him to his first baseball game, taught him to see opportunities instead of obstacles. Vincent sat up in the hotel bed, rubbing his tired eyes as he went over what Angelo had told him about Kira's parents. Rosalia Clark had never been accommodating and easy-going. She'd been hard as nails, uncompromising and unwilling to tolerate screw-ups, especially from herself. Andy Sheppard had been the exact opposite—he managed to get his job done efficiently, always with a cheerful outlook and a quick wit. He'd stood out in the Network simply because most of the operatives were as serious as the plague. Vincent had also stood out there. 258


Imagining the two of them together—Kira's parents—was laughable. Yet, the more he thought about it, the more it made sense. If ever two people could pull off the impossible, Andy and Rosalia could. He needed to sleep. In the morning, he had to get ready. Whatever happened, he'd be prepared. He had to do this for Kira. And for himself.

259


Chapter 41 During the time he'd hid in plain sight in the main computer systems area, Vincent had set his watch to match Network time down to the second. Because he estimated he had only two minutes to get into the system exactly where he needed to be, download the information and get out of range of the hotel room in the remaining eight minutes, Vincent couldn't risk giving himself a few extra seconds when he was in the system to find out if Angelo's disk had an invisible alert embedded in the program. At six o'clock in the morning, he docked on to the Network system, tunneled in, and didn't allow himself to think outside of what he needed to do, in precise succession. His entire body clenched as screens whipped past his eyes. For the seconds they were displayed, he deciphered each one. He burrowed further and further into the levels, right down to those that were forbidden by anyone without Level One clearance. He'd end up where he needed to go ... or step directly into an inescapable trap. Vincent knew he'd reached the place he needed to be when a picture of ten-year-old Kira held the screen along with a shell awaiting his command—download now? There was a chance that if he logged out now, he could still get away with no one the wiser. Without hesitation, he set the deed in motion. As the download onto a blank disk ensued, he read the information above the shell box: Elizabeth Sheppard; age ten when last seen; birth date December 25. 260


She was a Christmas baby. Her velvet brown eyes still haunted him with the same intensity. In the status line were the words he'd feared all along— 'Missing; retrieval top priority'. But there was an amendment that Vincent couldn't stop himself from clicking on as soon as the download completed and he had both of the disks in the inner breast pocket of his jacket. He swore when he saw it. Her case had been reviewed, the current status line had been amended recently. Vincent tore back to the surface just as his deadline timer went off. He logged off. In less than thirty seconds, he was outside, unlocking the doors of his car with the remote. He slid into the driver's seat and jammed the key in the ignition. The muzzle of a gun pressed to the back of his head. In the rearview mirror, he saw Angelo's grim face. "Don't move. Don't think. Don't talk. Drive. Now." Vincent didn't have to wonder how Angelo had gotten into a locked car. He could have gotten into it if it'd been fingerprint-only accessible. Because he had no choice, Vincent drove his foot down on the gas pedal, hoping to throw Angelo off-balance for even a few seconds. That didn't happen. Angelo only held the gun to his head more firmly "You updated her status this morning," Vincent accused as he drove away from the hotel. Instead of responding, Angelo said, "Give me the disks." Vincent took one hand off the wheel to get them from his pocket. Angelo had double-crossed him—there could be no doubt about that now. 261


Vincent handed the disks—Kira's life, along with his own— back. "You set the wheels in motion, Kyle, and she didn't help when she called ETI last night and asked for me, saying she was looking for Kyle Vincent." "What?" Vincent asked in shock. "I thought you were smarter than that, Kyle. I thought you'd keep her in the dark. She knew enough about the Network to find me and throw out your code name. You're lucky I intercepted the call, not Jameson." Vincent's mind whirled while he tried to figure out how Kira had found out ETI was the front corporation for the Network. If she'd called from her apartment, Angelo knew her exact location now. "As much as I hoped you'd just let sleeping dogs lie, I knew you wouldn't be satisfied with that. Now there's nothing left to do." "You alerted the Network I'd hacked into the system." "You did that yourself." "They're after me then." In the rearview mirror, Angelo shook his head at him. "I really don't think you want to double back to the hotel and find out, son." "So what are you doing with me if they're already there?" Vincent's gaze moved between the mirror and the road. Angelo's face was resigned when he said, "What I should have done long ago. For what it's worth now, I'm sorry, Kyle."

262


Chapter 42 "You're home early again," Piper said once Kira opened her front door. She'd just brought Ruff back from his walk. Kira nodded after she responded distractedly to her dog's excited welcome. "I've taken an undefined leave of absence. I need to put Ruff into a kennel." Piper's eyes narrowed. "Where are you going?" "I have to find Vincent. I know he's in Chicago." Kira had known she'd made a mistake when she'd called ETI last night and asked for Angelo. She'd been transferred, but the man who'd answered had told her succinctly that no one by the name of Kyle Vincent or Angelo worked for ETI. He'd disconnected, but she couldn't get herself to believe a legitimate company would treat customers the way he had. Her uncle had sent her a message. If Vincent was in danger, she couldn't allow him to face it alone since she'd helped bring it down on him. "How do you know that?" Piper asked. She heard the girl following when she went to the kitchen to fill Ruff's dish with fresh water. "I just know." "You know exactly where he is?" Piper demanded with a lack of courtesy Kira had seldom heard from her. "You called that company, didn't you? You had another copy of the phone number or you called information." "I memorized the number. I know he's there." "I can't let you go, Ms. Gunn." How did I know the girl would say something like that? 263


"You can't stop me. I know Vincent asked you to watch over me. But you don't understand, Piper. He's involved in something ... he was ... Do you understand that whatever he's gone to do is dangerous?." Piper shook her head. "If something was happening, he would have contacted me." "How? What do the two of you have planned? If you can help me contact him..." Kira clenched her teeth on her frustration. Right now, it wouldn't help her get to Vincent. "I'm asking you ... I'm begging you to help me, Piper. If you know what he's involved in, or at least know something about it, then tell me." "No. I can't. It's only for an emergency. Life and death." "What is?" she said in exasperation. Piper took a deep breath, leaning on the counter with her hand as she forced herself to look at Kira. "He gave me the sat phone. Told me to use it only if it's an emergency with you. He said he'd only call me using it if it was life and death, and I'm only supposed to call him if it's life and death. If I call before that time, it could put you or him in more danger. We can't risk it." "You have the phone with you now?" After a moment, Piper nodded before repeating she wouldn't use it. There was a brittle pause while they stared at each other, wills clashing. Then Kira asked, "How will you stop me from going after him?" "Whatever way I have to." 264


Surprising her, Piper stepped toward her and put her hand on her arm. "Listen to me, Ms. Gunn—" "Call me Kira." "Okay. Kira, I don't know exactly what he's involved in, but I know he's a good guy. He's on the white hat side. If he went, it's 'cuz he felt like he had no other choice. He can take care of himself." "How can you be sure?" Kira demanded. "Do you actually doubt it?" No, but I've no idea what Vincent might be up against. What I might have put him up against by searching for the truth about my past. Piper didn't wait long to continue. "He'll be back. You know that. In the meantime, you need to take care of yourself and I'll do anything I can to help you." When Kira looked away in anger, the girl squeezed her hand. "You still love him, don't you?" "Of course, dammit! And he knows that. He has to. Why would he do this...?" But she knew why, and she saw the same reflected in Piper's eyes. Vincent did it because it was the only way to get what she needed without putting her in immediate danger. The tightness in Kira's chest, the feeling that she couldn't draw any deep breaths, continued as she looked away. There were other possibilities why Vincent was gone: Maybe he'd returned to the Network as an operative. They'd either accepted him back or punished him for his defection. Or he'd gone to seek out his father to find out if he'd repented. It made no sense that he would go to get the 265


information on her past. He'd insisted that would bring the Network down on them with a vengeance. They'd never escape. Vincent would never take a risk like that ... unless he'd found some way to do it without alerting the organization. At the moment, there was nothing more she wanted than Vincent back and to hear his unfaltering reassurance that they'd be together forever. "I asked him to help me do something, but I never intended him to go on his own. I can't stay here much longer, Piper. If he doesn't come back soon, I'll go after him. There's nothing else I can do." "If it comes to that, we'll take our chances callin' him. But let's give it at least another week. He'll probably show up before then." Everything was wrong. Kira felt that her life, Vincent's life, even Piper's life—each was in danger. Something was happening somewhere, and Vincent stood in the very eye of the storm. She felt its certainty as if she was connected to Vincent with an invisible, unseverable cord. The cord hummed with tension now. "Do you feel it, too?" She'd asked for it, but when Piper murmured, "Yeah, I feel it", her unease increased until it filled her throat with a scream. Piper's voice sounded out of focus suddenly, and Kira felt her heart beat bursting from her chest, screaming in her ears and dissolving the world around her in blackness. 266


Chapter 43 "I'll never let you find her," Vincent promised, and Angelo said nothing from the back seat. "Turn left here," Angelo ordered a few minutes later. Vincent did as he was told. Does Angelo believe we're being followed? Why would he care? Unless he was corrupt, no other explanation covered why Angelo had taken him away from the Network building. Lifting his gaze momentarily to the rearview mirror, Vincent asked, "Who do you work for?" "The Network," Angelo said quietly, firmly. "What's left of it." "What does that mean?" "It means that part of what I told you was true. Terranzo killed Andy and Rosalia, and he's still after the girl." "So what didn't you tell me?" "That Terranzo is a hired hand. He's been in Jameson's corner for years." "Giles Jameson? #2?" Vincent demanded in disbelief. "Yeah. You know he was my mentor. I knew something wasn't right then. He never forgave the Network for forcing him to join. He had every intention of getting to the top and punishing the organization by corrupting it. And he's done exactly that." Vincent didn't allow uncertainty to creep into his voice. "What exactly has he done?" 267


"He's used the Network's resources to fill his own pockets since he took the position of second in command. Criminals, drug dealers, terrorists, the mob, blackmailing and murdering politicians who threatened him. He's been careful, so there's been nothing to pin on him. #1 has no idea what he's doing. "About sixteen years ago, a kid saw a senator murdered— by Giles Jameson, and that kid devoted his life to uncovering government corruption based on that incident. Nine years later, that kid grew up to be Reb Porter—" "The Chicago radio show with those two investigative reporters," Vincent realized. "Straight Up! with Rebel and the Rave." "Reb Porter and Raven Harris. The two of them spent years accumulating evidence on Jameson, but they didn't find out who he was until Raven overheard a conversation while following him. The Network was alluded to, and the next day, we were out in the open, on state radio. The talk show was a popular one, but fortunately only its die-hard fans took it as seriously as Reb and Raven did. Instead of dealing with the problem directly, Jameson covered it up. Insisted the Network hadn't been compromised because of the information the reporters gave out was too vague to point in the right direction. Not long afterward, the reporters had some unfortunate events happen to their loved ones: her young son was run over and his wife had a car accident. Both died, and Jameson was satisfied when Porter and Harris left their jobs altogether, out of grief. "Rosalia was the first one who discovered a connection between these things. She told Andy and Andy told me. But 268


you don't just accuse Head of Operations of corruption. We started digging into it as quietly as possible, trying to get some proof to bring to #1. Apparently we weren't as quiet as we thought. Rosalia was killed, seemingly on a routine mission. Terranzo sent a warning to Andy, and we knew he had to disappear with their daughter. You know how that turned out." "How do you know there's any connection between Terranzo and Jameson?" "It hasn't been easy to get proof and a part of me wasn't sure I wanted to have it. The only way to get the proof has been you, Kyle. When Jameson realized you'd come out of hiding, he got desperate." "What do you mean?" "I did everything I could to delay re-opening the girl's file this morning, changing her status and posting that you'd been spotted in the area. We were on to you the second you used that disk. I'd changed the files only a minute before." "You rigged the disk with an invisible alarm then," Vincent said angrily. "I had to. It was the only way to get Jameson to contact Terranzo from within the compound. He's never risked that before. Their meetings have been untraceable up to this point. As soon as he told me to put a team together to pick you up, he contacted Terranzo on an unsecure channel and I was able to record the proof of their association. He told Terranzo to kill you and Kira. The team would have arrived to find you dead if I hadn't gotten to you first." "What do you plan to do with the recording?" 269


"Get to #1, convince her to do an internal investigation. Terminate Jameson," Angelo confirmed Vincent's prediction of what he'd say—the only thing he could say to make his story sound legitimate. "Stop here," he commanded abruptly. They were less than a block from the river, in an overgrown area. Vincent realized as soon as he parked that his gut instincts were going off like fire alarms. This wasn't a safe place, not simply because Angelo had a gun pointed at his head. Angelo emerged from the backseat, opened Vincent's door and backed out of his reach. "No tricks, Kyle. We don't have time for that." Angelo's gun remained leveled on him when Vincent stepped out and slammed his door behind him. "Walk down to the drop-off," Angelo commanded, and Vincent knew he wouldn't follow close enough behind to risk being attacked. But his aim was just as deadly from a distance. "If you're working for the Network, then why do this?" Vincent asked without turning back, walking down the crumbling, steep slope to the river. A retaining wall in rough shape curved around part of the slope. He didn't have a single doubt he was surrounded on all sides, even across the river. "Because if you're already dead, Terranzo won't need to kill you."

270


Chapter 44 Kira opened her eyes to a blinding light. As she blinked, she heard footsteps approach her. A quick look around showed she was in a hospital room. Her mouth was dry and her body felt like it'd been through a wringer. Her neck hurt the worst. "You had a seizure, Kira," Piper said, what Kira realized herself, with dread. "I didn't have a clue what to do, so I called an ambulance. They told me this has happened to you before." The old embarrassment, the feeling of being helpless to control her own life, returned, and Kira looked away from the girl. There was a dressing on her throat. No wonder it hurt. "I'll get the doctor." Kira nodded. After nine years, both seizure and meds-free, she'd had a seizure. She'd been feeling one coming on for the past couple days, but convinced herself she was past her old fears. Her memories had come back in part. What more could her unconscious mind be trying to protect her from? While she'd had seizures outside of sleep in the past, it'd been rare. She remembered now the feeling that had come over her just before she'd seized this time. Worrying about Vincent. Deja vu—when they'd taken her away from Vincent and locked her in the white room. She'd screamed and pounded on the door then until she'd passed out. Being completely alone in the darkness of the underground subway tunnels without Vincent. 271


The door opened, and an impossibly young doctor walked in. "How are you feeling, Kira?" he asked. "Sore," she muttered in agony. He nodded. "You weren't getting oxygen. We had to perform an emergency tracheotomy. You'll be sore for awhile, and you'll probably find it painful to talk." As he went on to discuss options with her for the future, Kira's mind couldn't keep track of anything he said, let alone absorb it. She'd had a seizure. She'd been finished with them; they no longer ruled her life. Dammit, she didn't want to be helpless ever again. She'd been free! She'd been normal... When the doctor sensed she wasn't able—more like wasn't willing—to discuss the future right now, he left. "Maybe this is an emergency," Piper murmured, but Kira didn't allow the words to sink in before she growled, "No!" The pain in her throat was excruciating. God yes, I want to find Vincent and stop him before it's too late, but... "I don't want him to know about this," she managed in barely a whisper. "You gotta tell him!" Piper insisted. "He won't like you keepin' this from him." Kira swallowed against the dryness of her throat. "I want you to call him, but I don't want you to tell him this—" Piper started to object, and Kira insisted, "Not right away. Promise me you won't say anything to him either." The teenager's face was hard with frustration. Her loyalty remained with Vincent. 272


"I won't ask anything else of you, Piper," Kira promised. "Okay," the girl agreed reluctantly. "I won't—so long as you do eventually. Better be before this happens again, too." A trilling sound came from Piper's pocket, and her expression fell like an avalanche. When she drew the satellite phone out, Kira knew the worst had come. Vincent. 'He gave me a satellite phone. Told me to use it only if it's life and death with you. He said he'd only call me using it if it was life and death ... '

273


Chapter 45 "On the wall," Angelo ordered. Vincent knew he had no chance to fight this. He could challenge Angelo, and had repeatedly in the past, but he'd never beat him. After fifteen years of being away from his training, he knew that wouldn't have changed either. Angelo had the edge, as always. Before he could mount the crumbling retaining wall, Angelo came right up in back of him, pressing the gun to his temple. He spoke softly. "They're watching this, Kyle. Terranzo's men are watching this—I know you feel them, too. He's going to report back to Jameson later. You don't have much time. I'll buy you some, but I don't know if it'll be enough. If I know you, you've got a contingency plan. I have to shoot you. Get in the water. Stay down as long as you can. They'll report back to Jameson as soon as they can after the deed is done. Jameson won't be expecting me to be the one to kill you. It's the only edge we have at this point. But he's going after Andy and Rosie's daughter. They'll find her, now that she left herself wide open to it with that phone call. You're the only protection she has." "What about you?" Confusing Vincent more, Angelo lifted the back of his jacket and shoved something cold and smooth securely past the waistband of his jeans. "I have to get to Shannon McKee in D.C. I don't expect to make it there. Not in one piece anyway. But that's not your concern. Get on the wall. Now." 274


Vincent's shock was all that kept him from turning on Angelo and fighting. Angelo had saved him from both Network operatives and Terranzo. Allowed him to keep his gun. Everything pointed to Angelo being a friend, not an enemy. Yet Angelo stepped away from the retaining wall. Vincent didn't flinch as he faced Angelo's gun, held steady on him. And then Angelo fired.

275


Chapter 46 A nurse had rushed into the room when Kira pulled out the tubes she was hooked up to. Kira ignored Piper's widened eyes once she threw back the covers and yanked off the hospital gown. She went to find her clothes. The phone continued to warble. "Answer it," she demanded of Piper. The nurse rushed out, saying she was getting the doctor. Kira started pulling her clothes on. "But we're not supposed to use cell phones in a hosp—" Kira didn't know if there was much difference between a cell and satellite phone inside a hospital, but if Vincent was calling, it had to be an emergency. It was necessary. Piper must have agreed. She pushed a button on the phone and answered. She was silent, listening intently. The buzz in the halls outside the room kept Kira from hearing more than a few words Piper replied to the call: "...send Ma away ... No, I'll be standing by ... I'll stay until you ... She's here." Piper's face seemed paler, drawn with tension, especially when she handed the phone over. Kira could hardly breathe as she brought it to her ear. "Vincent?" "Listen to me, Kira. Listen closely and keep your promise to me. Make like a mole." The words sent a weakness through Kira that made her knees buckle. The real world went black. The only thing that penetrated was Vincent's deep voice and Piper, holding her up. 276


"What's going on?" she whispered, her mouth dry. "Right now." "Tell me where you are—" He disconnected. It couldn't be happening. That wasn't ... couldn't be real. Piper stepped in front of her and forced Kira to focus on her. "You have to do it, Kira. Whatever he told you to do, you do it." "What about you?" Her face hardened. "I'll be one step behind you." "Is that what he told you to do?" "C'mon, let's get outta here before the cavalry shows up." Together, they ran out of the room, ignoring doctors and nurses shouting she wasn't permitted to leave. On the street, Piper dropped the sat phone into a trash can. Kira panicked at the sight. "What if he calls back?" "He won't." Piper went to hail a cab. "Tell me what he asked you to do, Piper." "He wants me to disappear with my mother," she admitted reluctantly. A cab came toward them. "Is that what you're going to do?" Kira asked breathlessly. Piper looked at her pointedly, as though afraid she was having another seizure. Kira concentrated on regulating her breathing. Of course Vincent wouldn't allow Piper to enter the tunnels with her. He would have planned for this. "I'm not gonna leave you. Not 'til he's here."

277


After opening the door of the cab, she ushered Kira inside and got in after her. They didn't speak on the drive to her apartment. Kira's mind reeled. Where's Vincent? Chicago? What prompted him to make the call to say those awful words? In the hall outside the elevator of Kira's suite, Piper drew a gun, then entered and made a thorough sweep of her apartment with Kira on her heels. When she was sure it was safe, she locked the door behind them. "I don't know what kind of plan he had for you—" Piper began. "You have to go to your mother," Kira insisted. "Not 'til you're safe." "Piper, I have to wait until dark before I can leave anyway." The girl's gaze narrowed suspiciously, but Kira forced herself to hold tenaciously to the lie. If there was danger, she couldn't risk Piper being around. Vincent wouldn't have intended that. He'd always intended to be with her himself if the danger appeared. For some reason, he wasn't here. She couldn't even be sure he was in New York. But she wouldn't risk Piper's life. She moved over to the fireplace and opened the bunker she'd left intact—a last vestige of what Vincent had taught her. In the past few weeks, she'd tried to tell herself it wasn't really there; just something she'd imagined. Piper swore under her breath when she saw it. "You can lock it from the inside?" she guessed, and Kira nodded. 278


"Bullet-proof." Her fingers passed over the strange material on the walls. "You'll stay here 'til I get back?" "Yes. I want you to go with your mother, Piper. I've had years of training. Vincent has taught me well. I can take care of myself. I don't need you to stay." It wasn't exactly true. Vincent had taught her many things, but she didn't have the instincts both Vincent and Piper possessed. If they were learned responses, her declining health had kept Vincent from teaching her them. Piper's gaze running over her said wordlessly she didn't believe her after her seizure. But she did know Vincent. She believed Vincent would have trained Kira for this very day. "I'll go—soon as Vinnie's here. But I'll send my ma away now. I won't be gone longer than an hour." Whatever else Vincent had done to prepare Piper, he'd also instilled a tenacity to duty just as strong as the one Vincent lived by himself. Piper wouldn't leave her for good until Vincent arrived. "I'll be back soon, and then we'll do whatever Vincent wanted you to." Kira agreed, but as soon as Piper had gone, she decided to wait for Vincent. She had to know he was safe. This time, they'd face the danger together.

279


Chapter 47 The bullets in his shoulder burned like fire, but Vincent gritted his teeth against the pain as he dragged himself out on a crumbling slope. He'd passed out when he hit the water. Hell, maybe that was what had saved him. His instincts told him he wasn't being watched anymore, nor was he surrounded. He estimated he was about a quarter of a mile downstream from where Angelo had shot him. When he glanced at his watch, he saw it'd been over twenty minutes. Shivering in his wet clothes, he tried to find logic in the swirling state of his brain. He had to get to the hotel at the airport. Get his bag. His satellite phone. First aid kit and dry clothes. Blackness wove before his eyes as he pushed himself toward the sidewalk. He pressed his hand to the bullet wounds leaking through the leather of his jacket. There was no time to take the bullets out himself, though he could reach them both. But he'd never make it if he didn't at least cauterize the wounds. Forcing himself to focus, he walked along the sidewalk until he came to cars. Circumspectly, he tried each of those he passed until he lucked upon one unlocked with the keys in the ignition. He slid in and was out of there. Once he was safely heading toward the airport, no one dangerous following him, he gritted his teeth in order to reach in back of him. He pulled out what Angelo had shoved down the back of his jeans. 280


When he saw what it was, his eyes narrowed in confusion. The disk with the files on Kira and her parents, waterproofed in a plastic, zipper sealed bag. What the hell... Angelo had planned this. He'd allowed Vincent to get in and out of the compound to put the tracer on the lead comm computer, knowing he would breach Network security if Angelo's program didn't get him the information he needed. The program he'd given Vincent had contained everything he'd needed to get the information, even if it had contained the invisible alarm in addition to it. Angelo had allowed him to keep the disk. He allowed me to live. Vincent realized more profoundly at this moment than he'd been able to appreciate when it was happening. The bullets Angelo put in him had disabled him enough to make anyone watching believe he'd been shooting to kill. And he'd made it so realistic, shooting him twice in the classic 'double tap' style favored by professional killers—always shoot twice. He'd probably used low-charge rounds, too. A bullet to the subclavian artery or vein would have killed him or left him a vegetable. Vincent was suddenly glad for the mind-numbly repetitious courses required at the Network, going over and over and over the anatomy of the human body. Angelo's aim had saved his life in more ways than one. He'd planned it all carefully and it'd gone off without a hitch. Angelo had planned to get him out of the hotel before Terranzo's henchmen or Network operatives arrived. He'd planned to protect Kira's disk when Vincent took a dunk in the 281


river. Vincent wouldn't have been surprised to discover his mentor had even planned that he'd pass out long enough to convince everyone he was really dead. When he'd passed out, he hadn't come up for air a lot longer than if he'd faked the damage of his wounds by holding his breath. If he hadn't come to before he ran out of oxygen, he would have drowned. He hadn't. Angelo had counted on him getting away. For what reason? While Vincent wanted desperately to trust his mentor, he reminded himself Angelo's motives could be far from fatherly or friendly. The chance that Angelo was looking for Kira himself, was trying to draw her out or get Vincent to lead him right to Kira, remained as strong as the likelihood that Angelo acted in an attempt to help them. Angelo could have given him all of this because he knew Vincent would go to Kira as soon as possible to protect her. And that was exactly what he had to do, whether or not Angelo or anyone else followed him. Vincent reminded himself in dread that they didn't need to follow him. Angelo, and possible Jameson, knew exactly where Kira was in New York since she'd called ETI. In the Hilton hotel parking lot at the airport, Vincent looked inside his jacket at his wounds. He was still bleeding, shivering and hot as hell. He didn't have much time. The blackness threatened again as he pushed through the crowded hotel to the desk. When he asked for his bag from the safe, the concierge asked for ID. Vincent had no choice but to pull out his soaked wallet and withdraw a false driver's license with his undisguised face on it. While he got a 282


suspicious look at first, even after he gave the excuse for his drenched state: "Last time I take a dare!" He also got his bag. He made his way to the hotel room he'd gotten when he arrived in Chicago. All he wanted to do was lie down and allow the blackness to swallow him whole, but he put out instinctual feelers as he went. He wasn't being followed. If he was, he couldn't sense it. Inside the room, he locked the door, then pulled the drapes on every side. Ignoring his shoulder, he set his bag on the table. He got out one of the two satellite phones inside the bag. Sitting in a thickly padded chair, his desire to close his eyes increased. He forced himself to dial. One ring. Two. Full lucidity returned to him on the fifth ring. Where the hell's Piper? She carries the phone with her at all times, doesn't... "Vinnie," Piper's voice said breathlessly. "Is it time?" Vincent sat back on the chair, closing his eyes to the glare of the lights overhead. "It's time. What's going on?" "Nothin'." Everything was all right there for the time being. Vincent didn't take in the relief. It wouldn't last long. "Is somethin' gonna happen?" "Yes. They'll be coming. At least one of them is over six foot four. I won't give you a description, because he'll be disguised, but he's tall and muscular. They may be others though." "How soon?" 283


"Soon. Do what we talked about." Piper's pause pulled Vincent out of the misery his shoulder gave him. The room was freezing, or felt so to him. He couldn't stop shivering violently. "I'll send Ma away, but you might need me. Kira might. I'll stay until you get here—" "Do what I told you to," he said harshly. "No. I'll be standing by." "Goddammit, do what I asked you to! I don't know when I can get there, Piper." "That's why I'll stay until you arrive." Vincent heard the stubbornness in Piper's voice. He'd trained her too damn well for her own good. Nothing Vincent said would talk her out of the duty she felt responsible to carry out. "Where is she?" "She's here." "Listen to me, kid. You send your mama away and then you go with Kira when she goes. Stay there until I arrive. Now let me talk to her." He'd prepared for every single aspect of this long, long ago. What he couldn't prepare himself for was the sound of Kira's voice when she said his name. Vincent closed his eyes against the most intense agony he'd ever experienced. It'd seemed worth it before. Now ... now he didn't know. All he knew was that he'd put her in danger. If she was killed, he'd never forgive himself. His only consolation was that they'd have to go through him first to get to her. He had to get back there somehow. 284


He remembered Angelo's words about her phone call to ETI. If he hadn't been two steps ahead of Kira, she might have been the one half-alive now. She might have come to Chicago, gone right inside of ETI. What the hell had made her call? A dangerous need to find out about her past, or fear for him? The words he spoke now to Kira about the promise she'd made him weren't the words in his heart but the ones he'd planned. He didn't allow her the chance to do anything except agree she would go. Then he disconnected rather than telling her where he was at her stubborn insistence or asking her why she'd made that call to ETI. Time was running out. Vincent dragged his bag over to him and got out everything he would need. Bullets, pliers, paper to catch the gun powder. He just barely had the strength to pry the jacket off of three bullets. After he'd sprinkled the powder on his wounds, he reached for the matches. No time. Do it. The wave of pain that shuddered through his whole body as he cauterized his wounds almost took him into the promised bliss of darkness, but some shred of remaining strength kept him from it. Do what you have to do. Get to her before they do. Nothing else matters.

285


Chapter 48 Kira told herself Vincent was imagining danger again as the hours slipped by, but she'd begun to worry about Piper despite her calming techniques. She'd told Piper she would go to Chicago if Vincent didn't come by the end of the week. Yesterday, she'd taken Ruff to a boarding kennel for an indefinite amount of time, but she wondered now if she shouldn't have kept the dog with her. She'd changed into a black turtleneck—dressed in black clothing head to toe, as Vincent taught her to—that covered the dressing on her neck, and popped some painkillers. Now she held a loaded gun, the door to the bunker was open in case she needed to go inside, and her bag was ready. Yet she hadn't gone. She'd never forget the smell, the oppressive darkness—as heavy as anvils pressing her down, the endless tunnels and the threatening feeling of eyes on her from every direction. She remembered the warnings Vincent had given her about 'the mole people'. She remembered running wildly, alone in hell, wanting more than anything to get out and back to Vincent. She remembered collapsing but waking what felt like hours later with a huge rat crawling over her, sniffing as if debating whether to make her its supper. She'd jumped back and kicked at the monster, sending it scurrying away. She'd had a seizure, she'd realized, just before she'd slid into unconsciousness, but she'd come out of it somehow on her own, without Vincent. She'd run without any clue whether she'd been going in the right direction at that point. Yet she'd 286


made it back to Vincent and made sure she'd never again have to go in alone. Here she was, back where she'd prayed never to be again. She had to be careful. Take care of herself and Piper until they arrived at Layason's bunker. God, it was so much easier to make herself believe all of that had been some horrific nightmare she'd had. That Vincent hadn't befriended a community beneath the city, in the bowels of the earth. A community that either couldn't or didn't want to live in the sunlight anymore. For almost fifteen years, Vincent had been bringing them food, clothing, blankets, medicines and other supplies. He hadn't done it out of the goodness of his heart. He'd done it to protect her. It was understood between Vincent and Layason's community that he did these things in case he ever needed to bring Kira there, where they would live for a time until danger had passed them by. He'd chosen Layason's community because one of their members was a doctor—or had been before he disappeared into the tunnels for reasons Vincent didn't know or wouldn't divulge to her. Kira looked out her window again. Darkness descended like a bolt of fabric unfolding on the streets below. Piper was nowhere in sight. No one answered each time Kira tried to call the teenager's home. She wanted badly to believe all of this was some sick joke. If something had happened to Piper—if the danger was real... Oh God, she's only sixteen. She looks invincible, seems more mature than most thirty-year-olds, but she's only 287


sixteen. I have to protect her. I can't leave her alone out there, where the danger could be. I'll have to go into the tunnels and bring Piper with me because Vincent will go to the subway station first. He won't come here. What else can I do? Dammit, this can't be happening. So intent was she on searching for Piper from her window that she'd looked at and away from the same guy half a dozen times. Below, someone in the shadows watched her. Kira pulled back. Her heart raced wildly when she realized she'd seen the unmistakably tall man before. He'd been standing there for some time. Kira didn't know the man looking up at the building, seemingly right at her window. That much she was sure of. Why would anyone be watching her apartment? Unless Vincent hadn't been exaggerating the danger for them. Kira's hand trembled when she eased forward just enough to look in the area the man had been standing. He was gone. She whirled around toward to the bunker, then realized she couldn't contact Piper. She wasn't at her house, if the unanswered phone calls were any indication, and Kira didn't have the number for the second satellite phone the girl had told her Vincent had given her. She couldn't leave here without Piper or they'd never find each other in the city. Her breathing came in irregular gulps as she tried to think of what she should do. The bunker. She wouldn't know when Piper arrived, if she arrived—but the girl would know where 288


she was. Her hand tightened on her gun as she moved toward the open recess in the wall. A noise on the fire escape, at the back of the building near her bedroom, halted her step. Someone was climbing up the fire escape toward her balcony.

289


Chapter 49 Vincent had made a half dozen plane reservations, all under different identities. The only one he checked in for— bare minutes before the plane took off—was the one going straight to New York City. At all points, he expected to be delayed, stopped or picked up. His gun was securely inside the protective sheath in a hidden compartment in his bag that kept it invisible to airport sensors—a little something the Network had invented out of necessity. He'd used a disguise matching the ID card he'd made his flight plans with, but the Network had ways of seeing through a disguise. If Angelo led them to him, there was an even greater chance he'd be caught. His instincts were off and he knew it. His wounds throbbed viciously. Even with the ibuprofen and antibiotics he'd taken, his body was bathed in sweat, he was shivering and he knew he wouldn't be much help to himself or anyone else until the bullets were removed and he could go into a healing sleep. After stowing his bag in the space under the seat in front of him, in the first class section, he forced himself to walk through the plane quickly. He covertly checked every passenger as well as the bathrooms. Someone could be hiding in the baggage department or even in the pilot's booth, if they'd flashed some legitimate-looking clearance. He didn't trust his instincts, but he felt nothing was out of the ordinary on the plane. At a flight attendant's request, he went back to his seat. 290


The plane took off without delay. He accepted food and drink and had to force himself to take the sustenance he needed. As much as he wanted to, he knew he couldn't risk calling Piper again until he arrived in New York. Eating and drinking took more out of him than he could have imagined. He woke briefly at the pilot's half-point checkin and not again until a stewardess told him to buckle up. They'd be landing soon. He had time enough just to swallow another handful of pills that could be all that kept him going for awhile. His fever had come down a little in the much-needed sleep, but the pain in his shoulder returned with a vengeance that made it difficult for him to even get his bag out from below the seat in front of him. By the time he emerged from the plane, he was shivering again. He had to ignore it. Once he made it past the sensors, he ducked into a phone kiosk and covertly removed his gun from the sheath. Again, he felt no danger, nor did he trust his instincts while he headed for the nearest exit. Luck was with him when he got a cab as soon as he got outside. "Grand Central Station," he told the driver. He couldn't be sure Kira had kept her promise to him. She knew what to do, but she'd be stubborn about doing it. He dialed the number of the back-up satellite phone he'd left for Piper at the airport, fully expecting the lack of response he got. If things had gone okay, Kira and Piper were 291


underground now and Piper's phone couldn't get a signal there. That didn't make him feel any easier.

292


Chapter 50 Kira headed straight for the bunker as the noises from the fire escape became louder. The guy on the street had gone and someone was climbing up the fire escape under her balcony. Where was Piper? Why hadn't she come? It'd been hours since she left, promising she'd be back in only one hour. If I close myself in the bunker and Piper shows up while this man who was on the street is here ... She's not expecting it. She might not be prepared. Swallowing the fear sitting in her throat like a bird that wanted to fly as high as it could, Kira walked cautiously into her bedroom, keeping her back to the wall as much as she could. The room was dark and she didn't dare risk turning on a light. Surprise was the only leverage she had. When she reached the patio door, she eased the curtain aside without putting herself in front of it. The balcony was empty. She slid the lock over, then slowly and soundlessly pushed the door open just enough for her to look out. The balcony was made of iron, painted white—really the only design flaw in her expensive penthouse apartment. The architect had tried to do something radically experimental and had instead created an impractical eyesore. Moonlight spilled below the partial roof. The fire escape came up to the bottom of the balcony, where an illegally padlocked hatch provided entrance or exit to those with a key. 293


Vincent had never liked the balcony—the only one in the apartment, in the bedroom that had originally been his. After he moved out and she'd taken his room—the largest—as her own bedroom, he'd asked her numerous times to have the balcony removed, not simply because of the gaps that could catch a heel so easily. He'd said that, even with the padlock on the hatch, a criminal with enough desire could get in. All they had to do was get their hands up into the gaps in the floor of the balcony, inch out hand over hand in those gaps until they reached the edge of the balcony sides. From there they could pull themselves up over the railing. He'd, in fact, demonstrated how easy it was to do while Kira had watched in utter horror as he'd performed the suicidal feat with nothing but sidewalk to catch him twenty stories below. Kira had taken that as a challenge and came up the fire escape herself, planning to do the same thing he'd done. When she'd reached the top of the steps with Vincent at her heels, however, she'd seen it wasn't easy at all. She'd lost her nerve in an instant. The balcony was large. Getting from the top platform to the railing would take a leap of faith. The distance was simply too great. Only someone daring, skilled or stupid would even attempt it because the platform to the rail measured at least eight feet on every side. A person would dangle those twenty stories above the ground. If they made the jump at all, they would most likely lose their confidence and fall to the sidewalk far below. She hadn't been in the least surprised Vincent was the one who'd accomplished the feat easily. That incident proved, to her at least, that her balcony was safe. 294


Looking at it now, Kira wasn't quite so sure anymore. If the person watching her from the street had training similar to what Vincent had gone through, they'd manage just as easily as he had. Through the small opening in the patio door, Kira heard and saw the shadow of someone reach the top of the fire escape. In the darkness, she couldn't tell who it was. She heard that someone push hopefully against the locked hatch, then held her breath, waiting for the person to make a decision on how to proceed. In another instant, she saw fingers—strong, dark fingers with short nails that could have been male or female—come up through the floor, curling around the solid gaps. She didn't dare try to find out who it was any more than she dared to step on those fingers to keep the intruder from getting to her. If the person made it over the railing, she would simply have to be ready for anything. Jaw clenched, she watched the hands inch toward the edge of the balcony. She'd been right. This person had to have had training similar to Vincent. How else could they do it? It looked simple for them. She didn't hear a sound, not a grunt of effort, on the crossing of the iron balcony. As soon as the fingers came up out of the floor, Kira brought her gun to the opening in the patio door and put her hand at the ready on the handle. The only advantage she had, if this was an enemy, was that they wouldn't be able to reach for their weapon until they stood securely on the balcony. 295


Just when the shadow of the person emerged outside the rails, she heard a noise from within her apartment. Piper? Quickly, she backed over to the curtains hanging in the bedroom doorway and listened. Someone was trying to get into her front door. One of the locks sprang. She had to know who was on the balcony, now that she'd left the door open for them. Kira slid toward it with her back to the wall and peered out. The head was down, but she recognized it instantly as Piper's. The top of her head was covered with her trademark black handkerchief. As Kira slid the door open all the way, Piper pulled herself over the railing. "We've gotta get outta here," she said. Kira safety'd her gun before shoving it in the waistband of her jeans, under her jacket. "Someone's trying to get in my front door." "I know. He was on the street a second ago, watchin' you." "How did you know?" "I was watchin' him. Vinnie warned me about this one when he called. You got a key for this hatch?" Kira drew back and retrieved it from the nightstand drawer. Piper had the hatch open in seconds. The girl motioned her toward the fire escape. "Go. Now. As fast as you can." Kira shook her head. "You first." Seeing the stubborn look on her face, the girl jumped down first and something sailed out of her pocket. It crashed onto the sidewalk. Kira jumped after her and saw an expression on Piper's face that said the world had come to an end. 296


"What was that?" she asked. "The phone." "What phone?" Her devastation told Kira before her words did. "The only link we had to Vinnie." Kira glanced up, then whispered, "Go. We can worry about it later." Clearing three steps at a time, she stayed close behind Piper. They reached the ground a few minutes later, near the destroyed phone, and Piper grabbed the phone parts, saying maybe she could fix it. Then Kira moved on instinct. Vincent had taken her through exactly this routine long years ago, yet her body knew the steps just as vividly as she had then. Though she was weak from the recent seizure, she was nevertheless a lot stronger than she'd been as a young girl. "Where we goin'?" Piper asked, panting only a little beside her. "Underground." "The subway?" "The tunnels under the subway." Piper was silent for a moment as they ran, then she asked tensely, "Vin told you to go straightaway, didn't he?" Kira said nothing while they continued to dodge along the streets, looking back sometimes to check for pursuers. "Why didn't you go? Were you waiting for me?" "I wanted to wait for Vincent—to make sure he was safe. When you didn't come and I saw that guy watching me on the street, I realized I had to go. Where were you?" 297


Kira glanced at the girl. Her face looked troubled when she said, "My mom didn't wanna go. Not without me. Guess she's as stubborn as you." "You should have gone with her." "I will. After you're safe. After Vinnie comes for you." How much danger was Vincent in? Whoever was after them had gotten to her quickly. Because Vincent was out of the way? Or because of her phone call to ETI? God. The only connection they'd had to him had crashed to the sidewalk into innumerable pieces. Kira didn't want to say out loud what she knew both she and Piper thought: What if he doesn't come?

298


Chapter 51 Vincent sensed his tail long before the cab driver did. Using a mirror from his duffel, he saw a silver car behind them. It matched them turn for turn. His instincts had been impaired. He hadn't been alone on the plane. And he was leading someone right to Kira. Vincent carefully filled his pockets with ammunition, the phone, only what he absolutely needed. "Stop here," Vincent said, leaning forward. The cab driver turned back. "Here?" "Now, goddammit!" Vincent threw a bill in the front seat and jumped out without his duffel the second the brakes had been applied. Without looking back at the cab driver's call that he'd left his bag, he ran into the business directly in front of him—a restaurant. Knowing the parking situation in New York the way he did, he didn't expect to be followed quickly. But, once inside, he turned to locate the silver car. It'd stopped, doubleparked, right behind the cab he'd been in. Two men dressed in black jumped out. While Angelo could disguise himself beyond the recognition of those who knew him best, he couldn't make himself shorter. Both of these men were several inches shorter than Angelo. Terranzo's men, Vincent guessed. They weren't Network operatives. Swearing under his breath, Vincent realized they had no intention of losing him easily. He got moving, through the dining area of the restaurant, the kitchen and out the back alley. Instead of using his sight to keep track of his pursuers, 299


he used his hearing, running with his eyes straight ahead. After a minute, he heard them burst out of the restaurant the same way he'd left. They weren't trying to hide they were following him, he noted, which meant only one thing: They intended to kill him, maybe after he told them where Kira was. Dodging, winding through all the twists and turns he could, up, down, through buildings he flew. Sometimes he lost them for a few minutes but never for longer. He ignored the agony in his shoulder, ignored anything except the purpose of leading them on a merry chase—as far from Kira as he could get them, hopefully without getting himself killed in the process. He lost track of time, knew only that he was far from where he'd started. When gunshots ripped through the air around him, he accepted they had no intention of catching him to find out where Kira was. If they were willing to kill him without extracting the information, it could only mean they already knew. Keep your promise, Kira! If she'd kept her promise, she would already be in Layason's bunker underground. They couldn't get to her there. Only someone who knew the tunnels well could do that. As soon as he was certain he'd lost his would-be assassins, he ducked into the bathroom in a department store. He couldn't tell if the sweat his body was covered in came from the chase or from the fever that seemed to have returned in spades. 300


Inside a stall, he removed his jacket, wincing in pain as he did. He unbuttoned his shirt and saw the dressing on his wounds had become soaked in blood that continued to flow. He didn't have the first aid kit, let alone the medicine that might help him until he could get to Kira. Re-buttoning his shirt and putting on the new black trench coat he'd bought took more effort than he could spare. He shook uncontrollably when he dialed Piper again. This time, he received a message that the number he'd dialed was out of the area or disconnected. He knew walkie-talkies didn't extend into the tunnels; satellite phones wouldn't either. All the same, he wanted to hear Piper's voice, telling him Kira was safe. His head swam, but he had to figure out what to do. Whatever he did, he knew he had to do it soon. The bullets in his shoulder needed to be removed. Even if he was able to get to his apartment, he couldn't take them out himself now. He was too weak. Layason's community had a doctor, medical supplies—everything necessary to bring him through this. It would take all his energy to get to Grand Central Station without being followed. If one of Layason's runners was on the surface, they'd be able to tell him whether Kira and Piper had arrived. Knowing they were safe would give him the strength he needed to get down to the bunker. That was what he had to focus on. When he stepped cautiously out of the stall, he saw himself in the mirrors. Pale as a ghost, the fever scarlet in his sweat-covered face. He'd buttoned his coat just enough to 301


hide the blood soaking through his shirt. He had to have ready access to his gun. Leaving the store brought several curious looks, but he sensed no danger even when he got out on the street. Darkness was beginning to fall on the city. No way in hell he'd get to Grand Central on foot. There was also a good chance of being spotted if he stayed out in the open on the streets. He'd hailed a few cabs before he finally got one. Once inside, destination communicated, he tried to call Piper again. He should have been reassured by the lack of signal. Piper wouldn't respond if she and Kira were underground, right where he wanted them to be. If she'd never made it to the airport with her mother, the phone would still be in a locker, but there would be a signal there. Regardless, Vincent felt uneasy about it. The cab driver was looking at him in worried, furtive glances, as if he thought he might drop off right there in his back seat. Vincent ignored him, concentrating instead of whether or not they were being followed. For an instant, he thought he saw the silver car again, but he noted the license plate wasn't the same. Once at Grand Central, he made a circuitous route to the platform where he generally met Layason's runners. He didn't expect anyone to be there, but two stood talking, grinning when they saw him for only a second before they noticed something was wrong with him. Ignoring their questions about his health, Vincent demanded, "Is she here?" 302


He already sensed their answer. He would have known the instant he spotted them whether Kira was below. They wouldn't have smiled in greeting if he'd been here to tell them the threat that had brought Vincent here years ago had come. They answered his question with furrowed brows before one said, "No, mister. Is it goin' down then?" "What about a girl—tall, muscular, red hair, usually wears a handkerchief over her head? Did you see her?" "'Seen nobody, mister." "You look like you needs a doctor. Come on below." Vincent shook his head. "I have to go after her." "Not like that, mister." "You'll never make it." "If she or Piper gets here, make sure they go below and stay there. Use gentle force, if necessary." One of the runners nodded while the other looked grim. He was the one who muttered once more "You'll never make it" when Vincent walked back outside. Either she hadn't kept her promise, or she and Piper ran into trouble. Vincent got a cab two blocks later, but had it drop him a block from Kira's building. No one suspicious lingered outside her building. He sensed something was wrong when he stepped inside though. The elevator operator was nowhere to be seen. An order of Chinese food lay scattered on the elevator floor. Adrenaline flowing through him kept Vincent from noticing his own weakness as he took the stairs instead of the elevator up to the penthouse. He found the operator tied up in Kira's hall. 303


Vincent knelt by him and pulled the tape from his mouth. "What happened?" The operator looked terrified enough to burst, but relieved when he recognized Vincent. "Guy got on the elevator, hit me from the back. I woke up here." "Where did he say he was going when he got on?" "Third floor." Not the penthouse. Kira lived in a security building. Unless guests were on the visitor list, they had to be approved by the tenant before being allowed into the elevator. "He had an order of Chinese food," the elevator operator said when Vincent had him untied. "The tenants approved it." Vincent didn't doubt that. All the guy had to do was waylay the delivery person outside the building before they came in. The slip on the food would tell him where it was supposed to go. "Go down now," Vincent ordered. "Call the police." As soon as the doors of the elevator closed behind the operator, Vincent pushed against Kira's door. Like he'd figured, all four locks were open. He didn't hear Ruff bark when he entered with his gun in front of him. The place was a mess. Drawers emptied on the floor. Books off the shelves. The bunker stood open. After finding every other room empty, Vincent pushed aside the Noren curtains in the bedroom doorway to see the patio door open. He checked the bathroom quickly, then moved out to the balcony. The hatch was unlocked and open. Vincent lowered his gun. No blood, the padlock on the hatch hadn't been forced open, and no sign of Kira or Piper. 304


He looked out over the balcony and saw something black on the sidewalk below. His sight blurred, and only his grip on the rail kept him from going down. Once his head cleared slightly, he backed away to the patio, closed the door, then went to the kitchen. He gulped as much orange juice as he could take for energy. When he went down to the ground floor again, the elevator operator told him he'd called the police. "What did this guy look like?" "I don't know. Tall. Really tall. Muscular. He had a delivery, so I assumed he was legitimate, but he wasn't dressed in a uniform from that particular restaurant. I didn't notice much else." Angelo. Vincent knew that much for sure, even if the elevator operator couldn't remember a hair color—it could have been disguised easily. He couldn't make sense of why Angelo would let the elevator operator live. Why just knock him out and tie him up? He wouldn't want anyone to ID him, unless he wanted Vincent to know he'd been here. That made little sense. "Did you see Kira or Piper at any point?" "I haven't been on shift long enough to know their whereabouts." Frowning, Vincent heard the wail of a siren and knew he had to get out of the place before he was waylaid by the police—the last thing he needed. He made an excuse about needing to find Kira and went out. Around the back of the building, he found what he suspected were the remains of 305


Piper's phone. They must have come down the fire escape in a hurry. Possibly not long ago. If Angelo was after them and they knew it, Kira would accept at last that Vincent hadn't imagined this danger. The only question was, had Angelo come here to help ... or harm? Angelo had gotten to New York before him. He had to have, to have gotten to Kira's apartment before Vincent. He'd found out where she lived, no doubt through the phone call she'd made to ETI. Or had Angelo known Kira's assumed name and where she lived before that time? If it was something he'd discovered long ago, he had to be a friend; otherwise he would have come for Kira before. If Angelo had just found it through Kira's phone call to ETI, it could have gone either way. Angelo could have come here to protect Kira before Vincent arrived. Or he could have come here to kill her. Had he succeeded?

306


Chapter 52 "You sure you know where you're goin'?" Piper muttered when they'd reached the lowest platform. Kira was leading her through rooms and gated doors that she unlocked with a small device Vincent had put in her bag long ago. She heard the tension in the girl's voice. "I could find it with my eyes closed," she told her firmly. Adrenaline had carried her this far, but her body began to rebel as they climbed deeper. Waiting in the darkness for Piper to lower herself down, her breathing ragged, Kira had re-lived the memories of Vincent blindfolding her, teaching her to sense a presence in the pitch darkness. The heaviness of the air. The rats scurrying everywhere. She put her gun back in her waistband, fumbling for Piper's hand. The teenager took it more securely than Kira expected. In the impenetrable blackness, they walked over planks, catwalks and through tunnels. Here and there, they found signs of life—small campfires revealing wary faces, the unappetizing aromas of cooking meat and food, garbage bags filled with clothes, old newspapers and rough tools. They also stepped on glass that Kira remembered Vincent telling her were crack vials. Syringes would be littering the ground alongside them. Kira pushed away the recollections of the things Vincent told her about drug abuse in the tunnels. The deeper they went, the more expansive and suffocating the smell of sewage and the feel of the darkness became. They both heard the scurry of large rodents—'track rabbits'— around them, unafraid, the crunch of roaches underfoot, the 307


shuffle of feet, strange noises and sounds of communication they couldn't understand. Kira's eyes burned with the stench of urine and fresh feces. She wanted to put her hand over her nose, but knew it wouldn't help, not for long. The utter silence made each sound more profound and menacing. "They know we're here," Piper whispered right against her ear. Kira nodded, and she drew the girl back behind her body. An instant later, she felt rocks pelting her. She groped for her gun before calling out. "Layason! We're with Layason! Back off or we'll start shooting. We're armed." The words she was supposed to say if she met someone who claimed to be part of Layason's community had come back to her. When she said them, the shuffle of withdrawing feet followed with silence once more. "You okay?" she asked Piper, and the girl muttered "Yeah" like she wasn't too sure. "Come on," Kira murmured. They started forward again. It felt as though they'd been here for days. The second rush of adrenaline had left her shaking, wishing she could go back instead of forward. At the end of this was darkness. More darkness. No sunlight. No Vincent. She realized suddenly that they were completely surrounded. She felt Piper draw her gun, too. In another instant, someone struck a match before coming closer. "Kira?"

308


She didn't recognize the dirty, leathery face peering up at her in the waning glow of the match. They were plunged in darkness again. "You've grown up. Has it been that long?" "Layason?" she queried blindly. They exchanged the words that confirmed their identities. "We've been watching and waiting for word about you," Layason said. Piper understood the implications of the statement before Kira did. "Vinnie was here?" the girl demanded. "Less than an hour ago. Two of my runners met him on the platform. When he heard you hadn't arrived, he went to look for you." "We have to go back for him," Kira said, facing Piper though she could only see the shimmer of her eyes. "I'll go." "No one goes," Layason said firmly. "His instructions were that you were both to stay below if you arrived, until he returns. I'll send two of my runners to the surface to wait for him." "If he goes back to my apartment—" Kira began. He could be stepping into a trap. "He might need me," Piper insisted. "I'll go with your men—" "You don't understand, ladies. Vincent is a good friend to my community. He's given his instructions and I've given him my word. I can't allow either of you to leave. He can take care of himself..." 309


He trailed off suddenly, and Kira's fear soared, hearing it. "What? What happened?" she demanded. "When he talked to my runners, he was hurt. They tried to bring him below for medical attention, but he wouldn't come with them. Not without you." Kira's tone was soft when she asked, "How bad?" After a pause, Layason admitted they suspected it was very bad. Kira turned around and began running. She had to get to the surface. What if Vincent collapses, out there, before— Kira ran straight into someone. Layason had apparently suspected she might try to escape. She felt a crowd of others surround her. There were too many of them to fight. Behind her, Layason apologized gently before telling his men to bring them to the bunker and provide them every hospitality. He was going to the surface himself, and Kira wondered vaguely if it was the first time in possibly decades that he'd gone up. The danger had to be greater than she'd ever allowed herself to believe.

310


Chapter 53 The fever warred with Vincent's need to see Kira, to make sure she was safe. On his way back to Grand Central, he called her office. When he received no answer there, he called Security for KGI. They hadn't seen her all day. He connected with Megan Hague's office next. Megan answered herself, recognized his voice, and freely told him Kira had taken an indefinite leave of absence. Vincent read the truth of the matter in her factual words. For all intents and purposes, Megan was leading the company—something she'd always wanted. You might get your wish—indefinitely. The only choice he had was to go back to Grand Central Station to see if Kira had arrived. If not, he could go to Piper's ... but he already knew he'd never make it. Black dots wove before his eyes, trying to suck him into darkness. At the subway station, he got out of a cab, telling himself Soon. Soon he could rest. Soon the bullets would be out and then he could take care of Kira the way he needed to. He saw Layason himself standing on the platform with two of his runners. Vincent knew he hadn't been out of the tunnels for five years—a lifetime for a tunnel dweller. If he was seen, he'd never be safe again. His concern for Vincent went unvoiced but was evident nevertheless as he looked at the blood soaking through his jacket. "Is she here?" Vincent demanded in little more than a whisper. Layason nodded, and Vincent's legs weakened in relief. 311


"She and the girl, twenty minutes ago. Let's get you below. The doc is waiting to take care of you." The head of the community Vincent had befriended long ago turned to his men and ordered softly, "Make sure we're not followed." Though Layason offered himself for support, Vincent followed the trail on his own final reserve of strength. He had to see Kira himself. Had to make sure she was unharmed. "You shouldn't be out here," Vincent scolded Layason when they arrived at the first door that would begin their descent into the tunnels. "You shouldn't have risked it." "What else should I risk it for?" Layason shrugged carelessly. "It was either me or her. Or the girl. They were both insistent about coming back for you. I said you could take care of yourself. Not for much longer, however. How many do you have in you?" "Two." Layason nodded. They both knew that, though in the past fourteen years Vincent had brought as many professional medical supplies as he could get his hands on, the conditions below were far from sanitary and an infection could very well be the end of him. "Are they hurt?" Vincent asked, leading the way by rote through the growing darkness. "No. They may have been followed." "Angelo Pluzetti. If Piper or Kira saw him, have Kira sketch him and give it to your men." "He's the enemy then?" 312


Vincent swallowed. Maybe he'd never know for sure, but he couldn't take the risk. "Until I find out different, yes. Unless he threatens, leave him alone. But he's not the only one. Anyone who comes into the station and seems like they're looking for something instead of there to board a train should be avoided, but have your men use the digital cameras I brought down. If we can get a good photo of them, I can run each one to find out what we're up against." "You're going to need rest, Vincent. For quite a while. Let me worry about keeping all of you safe." Instead of answering, Vincent accepted the protection. He'd take it until he was on his feet again. Layason and his men knew how to hide, to disappear from the eyes of the world, but, as far as Vincent knew, they hadn't been trained to protect themselves against machine-like thugs. Terranzo's men and/or Angelo wouldn't give up easily. If they'd seen him or Kira in the station, they'd plant themselves there. Conceivably, he, Kira and Piper could be underground for weeks or months. Knowing the tenacious mind of criminals the way Vincent did, he'd prepared the bunker for the possibility of years. If there was any way at all to avoid staying below for a long time, he would. Most people didn't last underground longer than five years. Less if they were sick, addicts or were killed by the always-present-threat of violence in the tunnels. Insanity would claim them if they couldn't escape soon. He didn't think Angelo or Terranzo's men would try to find them underground. Chances were that they only knew about the track people, not the moles beneath the surface. They had to be prepared for anything though. 313


Vincent's head swam in the suffocating darkness, but he kept moving on automatic. As soon as I see Kira... That thought alone kept him focused enough to ignore his need to join the darkness at last. Kira had come here, either willingly or at Piper's coercion. Did it mean ... could it mean she'd accepted Vincent's presence in her life, even if only as a protector? If that was all she offered, he'd take it gratefully. At the moment, his hunger to simply see her was vicious. He'd kill anyone who tried to keep them apart. He'd do it with his bare hands. By the time they gave the code just outside the camp to let Layason's community know they'd arrived, Vincent's feet felt like lead. He could see the welcome fires ahead, but his concentration had come down to a single word—Kira. Once his eyes adjusted at the edges of the camp, he began searching her out desperately among the soiled, wary faces scattered around the fires. When he didn't see her, he headed toward his bunker—the one he'd bought from Layason for as many necessities as the community needed over the years. He ducked beneath the heavy curtain. Near the glowing lantern, he saw Piper on the floor with her back against the wall. Kira was pacing the bunker, but turned and rushed to him the instant she saw him. Vincent ignored the scream of pain from his shoulder as he took her in his arms frantically. His senses whirled at the sight and feel of her again. 314


"Dammit, I said help me, not go yourself!" she said fiercely. He eased away to look at her face, unmarred by the filth of this place. She must have seen his confusion because she said, "I asked you to help me find my past, Vincent. We were supposed to do it together. I never wanted you to go on your own." Cradling her face in his hands, he kissed her, half expecting her to tell him they could never be together again. When she didn't, he felt his eyes burning from the inside out. He wanted her more now than he'd ever wanted her, but he didn't have the strength to sustain even a kiss. The blackness danced before his eyes, just before she whispered the only three words he'd ever wanted from her. "I love you, you idiot."

315


Chapter 54 "He's bleeding!" Kira shouted when Vincent slumped in her arms. His jacket sleeve was soaked. Her shout brought Layason and another man. Together, the three of them peeled Vincent's coat and shirt off before lowering him to the mattress. Her own shirt and hands were covered with blood. Vincent's blood. She groaned when she moved closer and saw the bandage on his shoulder, completely drenched scarlet. "We've got to operate now, Doc. There are two bullets in there." "He tried to cauterize them," the other man—Doc— murmured. "This is gunpowder." Kira cringed when she comprehended what they implied Vincent had done to get himself this far. While she'd always believed him to be the strongest person in the world, now she marveled that it had to be the truth. "I'll get my supplies." After the doctor left, Layason turned to Kira. "You might want to wait outside." She shook her head. "No. He's my ... He's the man I love. I won't leave him." Layason seemed surprised, yet murmured, "Yes. 'Love seeketh not itself to please, nor for itself hath any care, but for another gives its ease, and builds a heaven in hell's despair.' Blake." Kira continued harshly, "I won't leave him. Don't even try to make me. I still have a gun. I'll use it if I have to." 316


Instead of daring her to, here in his own community, Layason smiled. "As you wish." When the doctor returned, he and Layason took what sanitary precautions they could. Piper stood near Kira, and she could see the worry in the girl's eyes the few times she glanced away from Vincent, so pale and lifeless. The two bullets were extracted in only a few minutes. Helplessly, Kira watched the doctor sew up the incisions he'd made, clean and then bandage the shoulder. He followed this with a syringe of medicine. "He gonna be okay?" Piper asked first. "I don't know," the doctor admitted too honestly. "We'll keep him pumped with antibiotics, make sure the fever doesn't get too high, but the rest is up to him." He ducked out, and Layason stayed only long enough to offer some real consolation—Vincent was a fighter. He'd get through this. Layason urged Kira to go to him, saying that having her near would heal him faster than anything. Vincent woke soon after Kira lay carefully next to him, bathing his forehead with a cool cloth. "Disk ... pocket." "Sleep," she said softly. "Get ... disk." Piper picked up Vincent's coat and found a small clear case with a mini-CD in it, not like any computer disk Kira had used, in the pocket. She handed it to Vincent. He pressed it into Kira's hand. "Your parents," he whispered. 317


Kira frowned as he fell into fevered unconsciousness again. Her parents? Had Vincent gotten information about her parents before he left Chicago? How? He'd said it would bring trouble down all around them, and even then they'd probably never get the information. Somehow he'd gotten the information he said was impossible to get, and trouble had descended on every side just as he predicted. He'd risked his life for it. He'd risked her life when keeping her safe was what he'd spent his life doing. She set the disk aside and lay next to his unhurt side, watching him closely. He was here. They were together. They were alive. She continued to bathe his feverish body, ignoring Piper's attempts to get her to eat or sleep. They couldn't stay down here, but how could they leave? Obviously the danger remained on the surface. She saw it in Piper's furrowed brow when she came to check on them periodically. She'd been going to the surface with Layason's men, Kira suspected, doing the things Vincent would do if he was well. **** Day and night blended here. If not for her wrist watch, she wouldn't have known the time or day. The doctor came often and left frowning the first few days. By the fourth day, Vincent had slept in coma-like constancy, and that worried the doctor, too. Kira had given in to her fatigue reluctantly during that time. She opened her eyes to find Vincent watching her in the glow of the kerosene lamp. She lay comfortably on his good 318


side. She immediately rose over him, checking his forehead. He took her hand in his, kissed it, before pressing it to his forehead, "Fever's gone." "Are you hungry? Thirsty?" He didn't speak, just touched her face with his fingers. His gaze even seemed to caress her. Kira swallowed the lump in her throat. His love could have spun its own poetry as he looked at her. "I never thought I'd see you again. If I can see you, nothing else matters to me," he murmured. "I'm sorry. God, I'm sorry, Kira." "Sorry for what?" "I'm sorry I risked your life. I had no choice." Was it worth the risk he'd taken? After seeing him hang between life and death for the past four days, nothing could seem worth the possibility that he might die. At the moment, having him alive was all that mattered to her in the world. Carefully, she lowered herself beside him again, drawing his mouth to her. She saw him wince slightly as his wounded arm instinctively reached to bring her closer, and she pulled back quickly. "Do you believe I love you now?" he asked. Her gaze met his squarely. "Yes." "Dear God, man," Layason's voice alerted Kira to company. She turned to see Layason, the doctor and Piper already inside their bunker. "You should be saving your strength for the act of sitting up and having a bite to eat. That alone will sap you." 319


"Not nearly as satisfying," Vincent said without an ounce of regret. Kira rose from the mattress to let the doctor work. Vincent's gaze never left her. "We should get some food," Piper said to Kira, and she glanced at the girl to see an unspoken message that Piper wanted to talk to her. Vincent told them not to go far, clearly reluctant to let her out of his sight at all. "Are you gonna tell him about your seizure?" Piper asked under her breath. Wishing for a deep, cleansing breath, Kira got the opposite in their noxious environment. "You gotta tell him," Piper insisted. "What if it happens again?" "I haven't had one in years." "You had one yesterday," the teenager reminded pointedly. "It put you in the hospital. If there's a chance it could happen again ... You can't stay here long." Kira put her hand on Piper's arm to keep her from saying more with so many people around. "I'll tell him. As soon as he's fully recovered. But it probably won't happen again anyway." The girl's eyes narrowed, penetrating the veil Kira had tried to pull over them both. "He needs to know anyway." When she turned away, sensing people were watching and listening, Kira pulled the teenager inside the alcove of community supplies. 320


"That E.R. doctor didn't know what caused your seizure— which means it could happen again. You couldn't breathe. They had to cut a hole in your throat and put in a tube or you would've died. If that happens again, then that causes us all problems." Unable to meet Piper's gaze, Kira's hand went protectively and gently to the neck of her shirt. "I'll tell Vincent as soon as I can." Since they'd arrived here, her worry had been, first and foremost, for Vincent coming, their safety in this place second. Now another worry loomed, one she didn't want to acknowledge, knowing how Vincent would react to the news. Vincent sensed something was wrong as soon as she and Piper returned with food and drink, Kira noticed, but he relaxed when she came straight to him to ask how he felt. "On the mend. Starving." "That's a good sign," the doctor said. "You're lucky you're a fast healer. You'll be good as new before you know it." Once the three of them were alone, Piper started a small fire and began cooking for them. Vincent remained sitting up on the mattress, and Kira looked at his wound beneath a new dressing. It looked so much better than it had the first few days. It was no longer an angry, seething red, burnt black where he'd tried to keep it from bleeding before he rushed here to her. "I've had worse." He shrugged, trying to console her, but she felt the horror too deeply. He'd led a dangerous life day in and day out when he'd worked for some covert organization 321


he'd betrayed by taking her as a child. They wouldn't simply forgive and forget. The worry on her face made Vincent put his arm around her. "I would never let anyone hurt you. They'd have to go through me first," he said unequivocally in a whisper. "Looks like they did." Vincent brushed her hair back from her eyes, looking like he wanted to devour her whole. Like he hadn't come through a battle already, he said simply, "They didn't succeed." Not caring if Piper watched them, Kira leaned forward and kissed him the way she wanted him to kiss her. She didn't want him to look at her that way ever again. Like he could ball himself up and place himself in her hand and it would never be enough. For either of them. She wanted him to reach for her anytime he had the desire or the whim. He drew away, reluctantly, after a few minutes, and she could feel him trembling against her. His breath came out in a shaky rush as he laid her forehead against hers, his eyes closed. "I love you," he murmured. He was such a strong man. Truly a man who could take care of anyone and anything, in any situation. Yet he put his heart out for her and anyone else to view with the naked innocence of a child. "I love you, too, Vincent. I'm sorry it took all this for me to face that I can't and don't want to live without you." Her hands cradling his face felt his smile before she opened her eyes to see it. They were in what many would consider the equivalent of hell, yet he actually looked happy. 322


They were together and safe for the time being. There is nothing else, she read in his expression. Piper's worry, when Kira turned toward the food, was just as readable. She had to tell Vincent something that would change everything.

323


Chapter 55 "I don't want you going up again," Vincent demanded once they'd moved out of hearing range of the bunker Kira slept in. Piper glanced at him with narrowed eyes. "And you're not well enough yet. Vinnie; these guys aren't trained for this. They wouldn't've spotted anyone if it wasn't for me." Vincent took the tiny digital camera Piper handed him. "How many did you get?" "Six. I haven't seen the guy who was watchin' Kira's apartment." Of course not. Angelo was the best. He could hide in plain sight better than anyone Vincent knew. He wouldn't allow himself to be seen by anyone he didn't want to see him. Was he with Terranzo's thugs? If he was, why had he staged the shooting? If he acted alone, was he friend or enemy? Nothing added up with Angelo. "You stay down here. Watch Kira when I can't. Make sure you keep the lantern glowing at all times." Vincent saw the petulant disappointment on Piper's face. "This isn't a game, kid. I've given you enough training to keep you alive until you can disappear. That's all. You can't handle six or more trigger men. Maybe you think they haven't noticed you. They have. And pretty soon you'll either lead 'em right to us or they'll take you somewhere they can get information out of you. You won't survive it, but you will give 'em what they're looking for—I promise you that."

324


"So teach me," Piper said, surprising Vincent because he'd expected her to be cocky enough to believe she could handle anything that came at her. Vincent squared his jaw. Hell yeah, Piper's exactly the kind of kid the Network likes to take in and train. She just has no idea what she's getting into. "Your mama's waiting for you. As soon as we can get you out safely, you're joining her. Don't get any ideas about doing this for a living, Piper. I don't think you'd like it." That was a lie. He knew Piper. She ate this stuff up. She liked being the hero, liked the rush of succeeding when death was on the line. Vincent had recognized that in her the first time he approached her. He'd recognized a piece of himself in this kid. "I can handle it," Piper said quietly, and Vincent wanted to reach out to her. Piper had no father to speak of; she sought approval from a father figure. In some ways, he knew Piper saw him as a father. Vincent wanted to be that role model for her, too. But it was too dangerous now. "I wanna stay. See this thing through." "You did good, Piper. This far, you've handled yourself like a pro. But I'm not risking you. Your mama needs you." And I need to know you're safe. "You think I did good?" Vincent held her gaze in the shadows of the alcove. "Yeah. Hell, yeah." 325


Piper just barely gave into a smile. "So who's the guy that followed us?" "Angelo Pluzetti." "Angelo? Kira's uncle?" "She told you that?" Piper nodded, then asked, "He a friend or foe? She seemed to think he's a friend." "I have no idea. At this point, it could go either way. We can't risk trusting him." "If they're still here, does it mean they know we're nearby?" Vincent nodded, turning slightly at the sound of laughter from the main community area. Terranzo's men had either seen her or Kira, but it was more likely that they'd asked people around the platforms whether they'd seen anyone who looked like them. Even with a picture of Kira when she was ten years old, they could have computer-aged her and the generated picture would be similar to her. "So what're they gonna do? We could stay here as long as we need to. You think they'll wait?" Vincent took a deep breath. "No. They won't wait. They'll come looking for us sooner or later, once they realize there's more to this subway station than meets the eye." "Most lifer New Yorkers don't believe the tunnels go below basement level. I know I never believed it 'til I got here." "That'll keep them on the surface only for so long." "So what do we do?" "When I'm able, I'm going to the surface. Terranzo has men all over the city. I'll arrange to be seen at the airport. I'll 326


also arrange some travel plans that should lead them away from us, just long enough for us to get out of New York." Piper's expression said she recognized the danger in those tasks. "Then you'll come back here?" "As soon as it's safe to." "Then what?" "Then you'll go to your mama, and Kira and I'll disappear again. With new identities." "She'll lose her business." Vincent nodded. "I know." "She know that?" "I'll tell her when she's ready to accept it." Piper laughed suddenly, shaking her head. "What?" "Nothin'. Just ... just thinkin' you two really are made for each other." Vincent wasn't sure what to make of her comment, but they returned to their bunker. Kira was sitting up instead of sleeping. The lantern burned as it had continuously since they arrived. She didn't like the dark now any more than she had as a child. He'd planned for that. They were well-stocked with fuel. Besides, it kept the bugs and rodents away. After setting the camera on a crate, Vincent went to her. "You're not sleeping." "I don't want to..." She glanced toward Piper, keeping her voice low. "...without you." As always, his protective instincts softened him to the point where he wanted to wrap himself around her, cocoon 327


her completely until she felt safe. He didn't want to let her out of his sight for even an instant. He couldn't explain the new edge that'd entered his protective nature. Right now, she seemed like the warrior he'd started and halted training her to be when she was a child. She had a core of strength which somehow kept her going. She raised her hand, opening her fingers to reveal the microdisk. "What do I do with this?" Vincent took the disk and got to his feet again. He went to the stack of crates against the wall. Piper pushed them aside for him. Behind was a padlocked door. He unlocked it with a key he'd kept in his wallet for long years. On the shelves within the alcove was an arsenal of guns and ammunition, along with other supplies. He took out the laptop that had a fresh battery in it and a few extras he'd brought down only a few weeks before. In a handful of minutes, he booted the computer and brought up the contents of the disk. After he satisfied himself that the information hadn't been erased or altered in any way and that Angelo hadn't imbedded another invisible program in the download which would cause the file to self-destruct when opened, he brought the laptop to Kira. She glanced at the screen for an instant, then looked up at him. "Is this me?" she asked in soft shock. Vincent nodded. "You'll see your parents in that file, too." Her expression took on a wary look, but she turned back to the screen helplessly. 328


By the time Vincent returned to the alcove, Piper had booted the second laptop and loaded the pictures from the digital camera into the program. While Piper connected the portable thermal printer to the computer, Vincent studied the photos, discarding only one as an ordinary subway commuter. "How can you tell?" Piper asked. "He was standin' around for almost an hour on the same platform. He looked like he was lookin' for somethin' or someone." Vincent could have said, 'I just know', and been entirely truthfully. He'd learned from experience to track his prey on pure gut instinct. Instead, he told Piper, "First, he's dressed wrong. Terranzo's men can't be seen with a gun. The only place this guy could put one is in the front or back of his pants, and the transit cops would spot that in a second. Terranzo's men wouldn't risk that. Look at all of these guys— they're wearing some kind of padded coat. They're carrying, and they know better to risk letting anyone know it. Second, you caught this guy looking at his watch." "It's nothin' at all fancy, like the rest of these guys have, but—" "You noticed their watches?" "Yeah. All gold. All fancy. High tech. Must've cost 'em a bundle." "Your instincts are good. You just started thinking too much with this guy. You saw him hanging around for a long time, looking like he was waiting for someone or something and not going anywhere. This guy is impatient. Terranzo's men and operatives are used to waiting around. They're never impatient. They didn't stay on the same track either, 329


did they? They moved around periodically, often, to different platforms. Went to the bathroom. Got a newspaper or a soda. You only recognized them because they'd been around awhile, but not in the same place. You said this guy was on the same platform for over an hour. He really was waiting for someone or something, but not for us." Piper nodded at the logic while Vincent deleted the photo. He printed copies of the other five photos for Layason's men. Then he did a quick but accurate sketch of Angelo, noting in text his height—six feet four or more, which would be an indicator even if he was in disguise. "This is the guy you saw, isn't it? At Kira's apartment?" "Yeah. That's him." What had Angelo been looking for in Kira's apartment? The only guess Vincent could come up with was that Angelo wanted a photo of Kira as an adult. Even if he'd seen Kira and Piper before they got away, he'd probably seen her only from the back. Angelo would recognize Piper pretty easily, given her muscles and distinctive looks. Another reason why Piper needed to stay below. "Who is he?" Kira asked, coming up behind them. Vincent turned to her. "Angelo Pluzetti. He claims he was your uncle. Your mother's brother." Kira frowned but nodded. "He's the man my father was waiting for that night." She took the sketch. "I remember him. He used to bring me toys. He gave me my G.I. Joe doll. I looked forward to his visits." 330


"We can't be sure anything he said is true. Even if we want to trust him, it's better not to. Not now." "Did he say anything to you? When you were in Chicago? Did he say anything about me?" "How did you know I was in Chicago?" Vincent asked. "I got into your computer. I looked at the websites in your browser history. Most of them centered around Chicago. Then I did a search for technology companies in Chicago. I found the company name ETI stamped on the cameras you had in my apartment and on Piper's satellite phone. Since ETI is in Chicago, I knew that had to be the front corporation for the Network." Vincent recognized her pattern of brilliance, but it still blew him away that an ordinary citizen like herself had put it all together so fast. "My computer requires multiple passwords. It's hackproofed. You don't know the first thing about computers, let alone hacking," he said softly. "I didn't," she agreed, telling him without explanation that she'd applied herself to learning all about the things he'd always wanted to teach her and she'd always refused to learn. With her intelligence, he had no doubt she'd learned more in a week than most people could learn in years. "But I figured out two of the passwords without the cracker." Vincent was surprised. Impressed that, for someone who'd fought so hard to avoid learning how to be a hacker, she'd done damn well on her own, just like her mother. 331


He hadn't kept anything vital in his networked computers to give anything about Kira away. He'd used the lab for keeping tabs on the Network,—though their deeds were never ascribed to them in the media—and for making sure he and Kira weren't being tracked by any law enforcement agencies in the country. What little he'd turned up over the years never satisfied him of their safety. "Were you planning to follow me?" he asked. "I would have if Piper hadn't insisted I wait for you to return." She bit her lip in shame. "Vincent, I called ETI. God, did I bring this all on us?" "No. Not all, but they tracked you easily after that phone call." "I'm sorry. I thought it would help, thought Angelo would help me." She looked ashamed. "Is that all?" "I couldn't let you be out there alone. I was afraid for you. I thought if I could talk to Angelo, he would help me find out about my parents and keep you safe if you were there. I didn't quite believe in the danger before—you were right about that. I do now. But as long as we're together, I can face anything."

332


Chapter 56 "Did you know my parents?" Kira asked as they lay together on the mattress. They were alone in the bunker. "I knew them both. Not as well as Angelo, but I worked with them for the years I was there. They were both good people." "Did you know they were in love? You said relationships were forbidden in that place." Vincent caressed locks of her hair. "Relationships were forbidden. I never suspected, especially because they were such opposites. Rosalia was no-nonsense. A computer extraordinaire. She didn't tolerate mistakes from anyone, least of all herself. Andy had a good sense of humor, everybody liked him, but he did his job with the kind of skill few other operatives possessed." "That must be why I've avoided computers and making friends all those years," Kira said quietly. "Some part of my mind has repressed that my mother loved all things electronic. Reading those files, I don't have any specific memories about it. But I have this impression that she was different with everyone except me, my father, and Angelo. Cold with everyone else. Only with us did she open up and show her vulnerable side." "Do you think your memory will come back now?" Vincent asked carefully. She shook her head. "No. It's like I know some things, I can accept them as true, but I can't grasp specific memories for them. I don't think I'll ever fully recover my memory." 333


Vincent had been afraid of that. Would it prevent her from feeling complete, though she now had the information she'd believed she needed more than anything? "Angelo suspected their relationship?" she asked. Vincent nodded. "He says he did. He says he helped them keep you. Hide you from the all-seeing eyes of the Network." "But you're not sure you can trust him?" "I can't afford to trust him. Not when it comes to you." She sighed, clearly wishing otherwise. He couldn't blame her. Angelo was the only link to the past she had, and he could prove to be a deadly one. "My memories of him are vague, but the feelings I have when I think of him are good. My parents trusted him, trusted each other and him alone. I remember that. Maybe they were wrong to trust him." He pressed a kiss to her forehead, unhappy because the answers to her past weren't satisfying. "Do you want me to call you 'Elizabeth'?" he asked. She tested her name as though trying to make it fit: "'Elizabeth Sheppard'. It seems so foreign." She lifted her head to look at him. "You say relationships were forbidden where you come from. Yet my parents somehow married in secret, either before or after I was born. I remember the wedding band my dad used to wear. The way he looked at it, stroked it sadly, when he thought I wasn't looking." The faraway look in Kira's eyes cleared, and she said firmly, "No. The person I was back then is a mystery and probably will be forever. I know who I am now, finally, thanks 334


to you."

335


Chapter 57 "I'm sorry I was so stupid. I missed you," she whispered, tears stinging at the memory of her cruelty, pushing him out of her life because she'd believed she had no other choice. "I missed this. Looking at you. Putting my hands on you. Being in your arms." "I know you didn't believe in the danger. After fifteen years of safety, why would you?" he murmured. "I wish I could give you all the answers about your parents." Her hand tightened on his. "I don't remember more than a few glimpses, but I know I was happy when I was little. I didn't feel like there was no stability. I didn't feel like there was none until it was just my dad and me. I know he loved my mother more than anything. He called me 'Hollyhocks'. I remember that..." She shook her head. "I wish I could at least give you something of your mother, but life's different in the Network. Getting to know anybody personally, outside your mentor, was discouraged for operatives. We're trained to react like machines. Most of the other operatives and the instructors seemed like machines to me. Everybody except Angelo." Kira put her hand on the curve of his jaw, stroking the firm line. "You've missed him, haven't you? He was more than a mentor to you." Though he didn't look at her, she heard him sigh. "I don't know if I can trust him. I shouldn't, but I can't imagine he'd 336


betray me. Or Andy. You can't really know a person in the Network—they try so hard to strip you of personality. They use people, even their own operatives. I always believed it had to be that way." "You don't want to go back?" "Not if it means leaving you." "Do you believe in it anymore?" "If Angelo's the enemy, so is the Network," he said simply. Losing faith in something that had made him the person he was hurt him, Kira knew. He'd believed in the Network's mission to the exclusion of all else. And he'd lost a father as surely as she had. "Whatever this place is, the Network, we both have a connection to it. I can't imagine a place like it really existing, but my parents gave their life to it. Maybe gave up their lives for it. I want to believe it's unequivocally bad, except you were a part of it and I know you're good." When he smiled sadly, she leaned down and kissed him. He sighed again when she drew back. "When you first told me about this place, you made them sound invincible. You couldn't believe they hadn't found us in all those years. Do you think...? Well, maybe we had help from the inside. And that's why we were never found." "Angelo." He'd clearly considered it before. "We had to have help from the inside. I thought all these years Angelo had kept them off us somehow, and everything he told me adds up to that. But the problem is, it could also add up to him being the one who engineered it all." 337


"Why did my parents die? The files didn't say anything concrete. They just said something about killed in the line of duty." "Giles Jameson is the operating head of the Network. The only person over him is Shannon McKee and the Oversight Committee in Washington. She's the liaison between the organization and a select group of politicians, including the President. It's never been a secret that Jameson and McKee have no love loss between them. When I was first recruited, McKee came in on one of her surprise inspections, and I knew Jameson was furious about it. I could always tell when McKee might be coming—Jameson was more ruthless than ever." Vincent proceeded to tell her a story that was unbelievable in her limited experience, but she nevertheless knew it was true. It was the reason they were being hunted. "What makes you think Angelo is making all of that up? For what reason?" Kira asked. "What if it's not Jameson who's corrupt? What if it's Angelo who's corrupt and has been working with criminals all this time? He could be trying to pin it on Jameson." "He had plenty of opportunities to kill you, didn't he?" Kira pointed out softly. "Yeah, but it wouldn't be me he wants. It would be you. You're the last witness to his corruption." "I don't know anything." "He doesn't know that, and he can't take the risk that Andy might have said something to you or had some proof you now have to take him down. He searched your apartment after you and Piper got away. Maybe he was searching for 338


that proof. In that case, I'm alive because he knew I'd go to you. The element of truth in his story is unmistakable; Angelo is nothing if not thoroughly convincing. He's considered every angle. But the whole thing could have been designed to make me trust him so I'd lead him to you and the evidence against him." Kira understood his dilemma. His past relationship with Angelo made Vincent want to believe his mentor would never betray him, yet the last thing he could do was trust him. She took a deep breath. "So are we going to go? How can we hide, if he really wants to find me and—?" Vincent's embrace tightened reassuringly, his gaze steady. "I'm not sure Angelo knew where we've been for the last fifteen years. Your phone call to ETI could have been what helped him to trace you, but my gut instinct tells me if he's the enemy, he didn't know before that. Otherwise he would have come for you long ago." Kira nodded at his logic. "I set up one more thing after we settled here in New York. Something solid." She frowned. Clearly he'd expected the worst. Vincent continued. "Coming here was only the first part of the plan. We can't stay here. I always knew that. This was just in case we had to disappear fast. "Do you remember when I said sometimes I wish we could just leave here and go some place nobody knows us—a deserted island? Just the two of us, disappear from the world." 339


"You told me you'd gone with those realtors in Florida to look at islands for sale in the Atlantic Ocean. You said you weren't buying one." "I lied to you only because I had to. I did buy one. That's where we're going. A private island east of Florida, far from civilization." "So that's why you suggested setting the first KGI branch in Florida," Kira said. "While you were setting up the branch in Miami, I made arrangements for the buying and building on the island, and for getting there incognito when it was time. We won't be cut off from civilization completely, because we'll have transportation off the island. We won't be found. We'll have everything we want and need." "Do other people live there?" He nodded. "The couple you saw with me. The Kriegers. Janice is a doctor now. Steven is an architect. They oversaw the building designs on the island. They think I'm an eccentric billionaire, eager to retire early and leave civilization behind. I talked to them before I went to Chicago. Everything's ready for us." "Do we have enough money to live on for the rest of our lives?" "More than enough. I diverted twenty-five percent of all your profits to a Swiss bank account when you set up your business. More of my money has gone there, too. The only question is whether or not you're willing to do this." Kira laughed. "I've spent the last seven years of my life working so much I didn't have a life outside of the business. 340


Maybe it's time for me to learn how to live instead of avoiding it, the way I have. When do we leave?" Vincent smiled in relief. "As soon as it's safe." "What about Piper?" She could see he'd worried about that himself. "The bus station isn't far from here. She'll make it." "She could come with us." Vincent chuckled. "Someone like Piper, cut off from the rest of the world, from action on an island where there's nothing to do but soak up the sun all day? I don't know if that would interest her." "But she'd be safe. She could leave later. Next year. Maybe bring her mother." Taking a deep breath, he said, "I'll ask her." Kira lay her head carefully on his chest. "This would be like a honeymoon, except we're not married." His fingers trailed over her arm until he could grasp her hand in his. "Aren't we? Marriage is the joining of two souls, not signatures on a perishable scrap of paper. I'll never break my bond with you, Kira. My life is yours." "My life is yours, Vincent. Forever." For a few hours at least, she could forget the danger lurking on the surface.

341


Chapter 58 Her skin felt almost painfully sensitive when he put his mouth against her bare pelvis. She was so excited, she'd almost lost it while he'd eased her jeans and panties off. It was like before, only better. Sweeter. Her random thoughts— the relentless danger following them, Vincent protecting her and Piper—shattered like so much fluff against the coil of pleasure making her impatient. "I don't want to hurt you. Your arm," she whispered raggedly. He didn't say anything, just lowered his mouth to her. She knew he didn't care at the moment. Kira's eyes rolled back, her hips lifted wildly as he worked ecstatically against her. She put her hand between her teeth to keep herself from sobbing her pleasure out loud. Their eyes met, and his mindless groan of satisfaction made her stop caring if anyone heard them. She dragged him up to her, and she rolled them so he wouldn't have to take his weight on his shoulder. She cradled his arousal, stroking him until his jaw clenched in agony. Then he reluctantly dodged her hands, lifting her pelvis with one hand and drawing her down on him. Tears filled her eyes, watching him love her the way she'd believed he might never again. "All right?" he asked gruffly against her hair after his initial thrust that had them both holding onto each other for dear life. He reached for her turtleneck, as if to lift it, but she lowered her hips onto him to prevent it. 342


She had to keep her shirt on somehow. Thus far, it hadn't been easy because he'd wanted to use his mouth on her breasts instead of just his hands through cotton. She'd wanted the same, but she'd distracted him. "Better than all right," she told him breathlessly. "I love you. I never want to be without you again." "You'll never have to be." She loved him more for a promise they both knew he might not be able to keep. She pumped her body against his in a slow, deep roll that made them both crazy as their climaxes built to an unbearable pitch. They both tried to control the helpless noises they made, drown them, but her gasps were as loud as his jerky groans. The silence from outside the curtain was pin-drop quiet compared to what it'd been earlier. Had Piper moved the whole camp to give them privacy? Kira stifled a delirious laugh. "I missed you," she whispered when she lay next to him and he drew her in his arms. Their eyes met. "There's no me without you, Vincent. I love you more than anything. With everything I have and everything I am. Can you understand that?" "I want to protect you, Kira. I always have, from the first moment. I'm sorry if that made you feel helpless. I never intended it to," he said a little desperately. "I never felt you were, and I certainly don't now. But I always wanted to be the one to heal you. To give you everything you needed. To be the one, the only one, who could truly make you happy." 343


"You wanted to be my soul-mate." "Just like you're mine. I knew from the moment your eyes met mine you were all that would ever matter to me, from that moment on." "I knew, too. I was just stubborn because my whole life was you. It seems dangerous to give someone so much of yourself when you don't know where either of you came from. I knew you were the answer, but you were also the question. I didn't know how to reconcile that. When I asked you to help me find my past and you wouldn't ... I couldn't imagine living without knowing. I didn't stop loving you, but when I realized you went to get me what I insisted like an idiot I had to have, suddenly having it didn't seem anywhere near as important as having you." "You have the answers now, worth it or not." She didn't want to think about the danger. She wanted to love him. She wanted him to love her. When she pressed her lips to his, she felt him take a deep breath. Let it go. Let this be all that matters. They'd found heaven in this black hell.

344


Chapter 59 "Kira." Vincent's voice was soft but insistent. Kira woke from her doze and saw his worried face above her. He was kneeling beside her on the mattress. "What is it? What's happening?" she asked, suddenly alert. He pointed to her shirt, and she knew suddenly that he'd pulled it up and seen the dressing where the doctors had put in a tube to help her breathe. His face was tight with dread. She should have realized he'd wonder about her reluctance to give her all of herself. Her shame was quickly chased off by logic. Vincent had needed time to heal. She and Vincent had needed a few hours to renew their love. A few hours away together from the danger. She'd planned to tell him sooner or later. Now was a lot sooner than she'd wanted. "It's..." She sat up, exhaling sharply. "Dammit, I don't want you to make a big deal out of this. I'm fine." "What happened?" His tone brought her hackles up. "Don't do that. Do you know how it feels to be treated like an invalid when you're a grown woman? Like you're helpless?" The pain and terror in his expression caved as if every moment not knowing was killing him. "Kira, tell me," he pleaded. "All right! I had a seizure." "When?" "The night before you called Piper on the satellite phone." 345


His jaw clenched, yet he somehow kept his voice calm. "While you were asleep?" "No. I was worried about you. Piper called an ambulance. My vocal chords were seized, so they had to perform an emergency tracheotomy to help me breathe." He didn't say what he was thinking, but the horror on his face made her feel like she'd lost all control of her life. "What if it happens again?" he asked. "Here? What if the calming techniques don't work anymore?" She heard what he didn't say: What if I'm not here to help you next time? Kira swallowed, trying to put aside her bruised ego. He'd worked so hard for so long on their escape. Had she ruined it? Maybe they'd never get to their island. "If it happens again, I have to go to the emergency room." "Or you'll die?" She didn't answer. She didn't need to.

346


Chapter 60 He had to go to the surface, lure them away. His shoulder wasn't fully healed, but that didn't matter now. "Vincent." She drew his gaze down to her, and he saw her growing anxiety there. How could he reassure her? He had no options. They could have stayed down here long enough for him to heal, then employ the divergence of tricking Terranzo into thinking he and Kira were making their getaway on a flight out. "As long as we're together, we'll be all right," she murmured consolation that didn't reassure him at all. "It won't happen again." Holding her to him fiercely, Vincent ignored the agony in his shoulder. No one would hurt her. If he had to hunt down every last one of Terranzo's men himself, one by one, he'd do it. If he had to walk into the Network and take out Giles Jameson in his lair, knowing he'd never get out alive, he wouldn't blink an eye. Whatever it took to keep Kira safe. When Vincent emerged from the bunker, Piper got up from the circle of community members around the small fire and came to him. He indicated that she should follow him into Layason's private bunker. Doc was there, too. Vincent wasted no time. "Kira has a disorder, based on a trauma she went through as a child. She has seizures not related to epilepsy or any other medical disorder. No medication has ever helped before. Just calming techniques. She had a seizure recently— 347


the first one in nine years. She could have another one at any time. They had to tube her during the last one." "Then I think we can all agree she can't stay down here," Layason said. "I have to start the diversion plan immediately," Vincent said. "You're not well enough," Doc stated emphatically. "Those wounds are nowhere near healed. If you do anything more strenuous than you already have, they'll open and you'll be letting yourself in for a world of infection that I won't be able to cure." Piper stepped in to the conversation. "Let me do it." Vincent glanced at her. "You can't." "They've seen me already. This Angelo guy knows I was with Kira. If he's workin' with 'em—" "If he's not, Terranzo's men will have no idea you're with me or Kira. They'd recognize Kira or me. I won't risk her. And I won't risk you." "I can come with you. Either just to the surface or when you go to create the diversion. I can help. I won't screw it up." Vincent looked at her in frustration. "I can't risk it." "I learned a lot from you, Vin. I'd be an asset to you, 'specially 'cuz you're not well enough to do it solo." It was true that he wasn't well enough to do it alone. "No, Piper. You'd be an asset to me, but you're also like a daughter to me. I wouldn't risk you any more than I would Kira. You'll stay here until it's safe for you to join your mother. I'll go now." 348


The multiple flight plans he'd set up should keep Terranzo's thugs busy tracking so he could get Kira and Piper out of here and somewhere safe. Anywhere safe.

349


Chapter 61 Vincent came back in with Piper, who carried food. Kira sat up, unwilling to make things worse by admitting she felt terrible. Making love with Vincent had taken every ounce of energy she had. She felt drained and out of her head in this place. There were too many sounds—the scurrying of bugs and rodents around the walls—in the otherwise profound silence of the bunker. Things were too still. She longed for wind as much as she did for fresh air and sunshine. "Did you sleep?" he asked. She shook her head. "What's happening?" His expression was too shuttered. She recognized his instinctive desire to protect her even if it meant withholding information. "I need to go to the surface to make flight arrangements." "You can't go to the surface. They're there." "I'm not going into the subway station. I'm taking a different route outside. Egress is different." "I'll go with you." She anticipated and got his headshake. "No. It's too dangerous." "It's dangerous for you, too." "I've got the training to handle it. You don't." "So train me." She could see he didn't want to make her feel helpless in his pause. Carefully, he said, "I don't have the time, Kira. If I bring you along, it's more dangerous than if I go alone. I 350


need to concentrate on the mission, not on worrying about your safety." "What if they see you?" she demanded. She watched him get up and go to the door behind the crates. He took out a gun, ammunition and the satellite phone he'd had with him when he arrived. "I won't be seen," he told her with more assurance than she could believe. "I have to go outside—I can't get a signal from down here." "But if you go up to the platform..." she said while he loaded the gun. "I told you, I'm not going to the platform. There's more than one way in and out of here. I'm going out a way they haven't been guarding. I'll be back in a couple hours." He'd slipped into a coat, loading the pockets with the things he'd need. "Why do you have to go? Can't someone else do it?" she asked wearily when he came to her and put his arms around her. "I have to do it. There's no danger." "Will you take someone with you?" He sighed, his gaze doling out more assurance than she could accept, considering his words. Anywhere they went, alone or together, there would be danger for them. "I'll take a couple runners," he conceded, but she could tell he hadn't wanted to bring anyone along, least of all her. That could only mean there was danger, and he didn't want to risk anyone else. 351


When he stood, she stood. She followed him to the curtain, where he kissed her. His eyes were soft, his hand tender at her side when he drew back. "Eat something. Get some sleep. I promise I'll be back soon." She watched him speak to some of the men, watched him disappear into the darkness of the tunnels with two of them. Her insides clenched, she moved back behind the curtain. When she turned to Piper, the teenager looked away. "Tell me everything you know, everything he won't tell me," she insisted. "He'll tell you—" "You'll tell me. If anything happens to Vincent, I need to know what I'm up against." She sat in front of Piper, and the girl grimaced. But she told her Vincent's plan—as much of it as she knew. "He changed his original plan to stay here longer because I might have a seizure," Kira guessed. Piper said nothing, and after awhile Kira laid down on the mattress. Her ears strained for Vincent's footsteps instead of taking the rest her body needed. An agonizing hour later, she heard footsteps outside the curtain, and then Vincent ducked in. "Anything happen?" Piper asked. Vincent shook his head. "So it's set?" "Yeah. No turning back."

352


Shakily, feeling almost angry, Kira sat up saying, "So you're going out tomorrow? You're going to lead them to the airport?" He glanced accusingly at Piper, who said, "You wanna protect her, Vinnie, she needs to know what's happenin'." Vincent's expression softened. He nodded, sighing. "We'll be safe on our island soon, love. I promise." Safe. She was beginning to lose touch with the reality of that word.

353


Chapter 62 "It's a diversion," Vincent said to Piper. "I'll get on the Express Bus, heading for LaGuardia. Make sure they see me. It won't take them long to realize I'm going to the airport, probably making an attempt to get out of the city. They won't know for sure whether Kira is with me, but they'll follow. They'll find the plane reservations I made yesterday. I'll get off at one of the hotels the bus will stop at and double-back here. Layason's men will keep an eye out on the platforms once I'm below again. If the way seems clear, we'll go. Be ready." Vincent paused to allow Piper to digest the plan before he asked, "What will you do? Where will you go? You could take the subway to the bus station, join your mama ... or..." Piper's expression didn't change, though Vincent knew she must have spent long hours trying to decide what she'd do when she left. "...or you could come with us. I can't promise you an exciting life once we get where we're going, but you could hide out there for awhile, until we're sure no one's looking for us. You could get your mother eventually and bring her to live with us." "You'd do that? Let me?" Piper asked, sounding a little surprised. "What about Kira?" "We both want you to come with us. But I can't expect you to live your life in hiding. And you wouldn't have to forever, like we do, just until it seems safe." 354


Vincent felt a little embarrassed because he was a step away from begging. He'd never considered asking Piper to come along because he'd been certain she wouldn't even consider it. Piper was young, still believed she was invincible. She was eager to grab life by the horns and wrestle with it. A life of seclusion would make her miserable. Even if hiding out was safer, she wasn't necessarily looking for safety. Despite the strong possibility that none of them would make it out of here alive, Vincent suspected an unspoken part of Piper had enjoyed all of this. Just as Vincent had enjoyed every mission he'd gone on in the Network. Dancing with danger had made him feel alive the way he'd never felt before. Piper glanced down the length of the tunnel as she considered it, then she nodded. "All right. Thanks. You sure you won't let me come with you now?" "I'll be back soon enough. You'll get your fill of excitement then." Piper nodded, her face just a little more grim, her tone lower. "Make sure you get back here soon. I don't think it's good for her to worry." Kira hadn't been sleeping—something she needed, especially down here where time had no meaning and the air wasn't as plentiful. He caught her too many times gasping or breathing raggedly, as though she couldn't get enough air. As if she was drowning in her father's blood again. "Take care of her and don't worry," Vincent said before he forced himself to go up and put his head in the lion's mouth.

355


Chapter 63 "That explains why he said that then," Piper said after Kira told her about the island—something Kira realized the girl had asked her about in an attempt to distract her thoughts from Vincent's absence. "Explains what?" she asked softly, clinging to the imagine of a cozy little island where they wouldn't be targets. She and Vincent could be together without the threat of danger. "Before Vincent went up yesterday to make the false flight arrangements, he told me if anything happened to him to get you to Florida. Key West. Half-Shell Fish Market. Ask around for somebody named Senorita Sombra." Vincent had provided for every scenario, including the ones where he wasn't able to take care of her himself. She wanted him to take care of her, wanted to take care of him. But she didn't want him to risk his life for her. Tilting her head back against the stone wall, she closed her eyes. There was nothing to do but wait. She had nothing to pack. The only possession she had of value was the microdisk with her history on it. That she'd slipped into her pocket when Vincent opened the door behind the crates in the morning. "I wonder what will happen to Ruff," she said quietly, without opening her eyes against the threatening tears. "Actually..." Kira's eyes opened on Piper's hesitation. "I knew it was gonna go down bad, so I put him on the bus with my ma." "That's why you were late?" 356


"Partly." "I'm glad you did. He'll take good care of her." Piper nodded. "'specially if I don't make it to her right away." "Where is she?" "Somewhere safe. No one'll ever find her there. She's got more than enough to live on." Had Piper planned for the possibility that she might never see her again, just as Vincent had always done? She'd learned well. Kira also had no doubt Vincent had given Piper a lot of money, along with those two satellite phones, for emergencies. Kira nodded. She couldn't seem to get enough air. She didn't like the idea of Vincent out there, alone, drawing murderers looking for her after him instead. What if he was killed? What would she do? She couldn't stay down here forever. Alone. She couldn't live without him in the real world. The darkness was everywhere. Every direction she turned, it was there, heavy and total. She had to get to Vincent. She'd made it to Layason's camp, just as she'd promised him she would, and somehow she'd gotten that far telling herself she'd be with Vincent again soon. She wasn't alone, though. No, she could feel things ... people, rats and bugs around her, just the way Vincent had taught her to by blindfolding her for hours. They were there, but she couldn't see them, and the darkness just made it worse. If they wanted to, they could come within an inch of her and she wouldn't see them. Firmly, she tried to check herself back into practicality. 357


Keep track of your steps. Remember where you are and follow the path you know like the back of your hand. Don't turn back for anything because if you lose your sense of direction, you'll be lost. You might never find your way out. Kira's frail chest clenched painfully as her heart slammed violently inside it. The air ... God, it was so thin. Noxious. The stink had grown worse instead of familiar in the hours she'd been in these tunnels. She couldn't take oxygen in no matter how hard she tried to gulp it and soothe her burning lungs. Where am I? Vincent ... I'm lost. Help me. In the darkness, she crashed against something and realized in panic that she'd hit the ground and her mind was slipping away from her... **** Kira woke suddenly and felt something on her chest, sniffing near her face. With a watery cry of disgust and fear, she shoved herself back with all her might and kicked out with her foot. It impacted with a solid body. A rat, at least five pounds of fearless rat. It was sitting on me. It was sniffing me, like it wanted to ... oh God, to eat me. Kira forced herself to her feet, knowing only one thing: She had to get out; she had to get to Vincent. Never mind that she didn't have a clue if she was going in the right direction. There had to be a light somewhere at the end of this tunnel. She'd find it. And she'd never come back here again. 358


But would Vincent allow that? He took care of her, and he insisted learning these things was part of taking care of her. Kira believed him. She saw the pain he went through each time he asked her to do things he knew she hated. She knew he'd never forgive himself for the nightmares they caused her. I can't come back here. I can't do this anymore. Seizure, she realized. She'd had a seizure just before she passed out. She couldn't remember how long she'd been out and had no way of finding out, but she must have been out for awhile. Somehow she'd come out of it all on her own, without Vincent's comfort to lead her back to safety. She'd come out of it alone, but if she told him about it ... maybe he would agree she didn't have to do this again. Shame filled her at her own cowardice, but she knew she'd do anything to prevent this from ever happening again. Then she'd block it out of her mind and convince herself it'd never happened. This was all a bad dream. If she could just find Vincent now, she could pretend it was all some bad dream she'd never have to have again. **** Kira woke to utter darkness. Where was she? Where was Vincent? She hadn't found him. No, God, no, she couldn't do this again. With her hand on her chest, she felt her heartbeat under her fingers, strong. Too strong. It seemed to shove her hand up an inch or more with each beat. Her ears were filled with the sound. Tsunami waves crashing violently over a 359


shore. Her lungs burned furiously, seeking oxygen she couldn't pull into them no matter how hard she tried. "No," she heard herself whisper between clenched teeth as every muscle in her body went stock rigid. "Oh, shit." A light suddenly penetrated the darkness. Piper's sleepy face swam before her eyes in the glow of the lantern. "Not again, Kira. Not now! What do I do? Tell me what to do!" In another second, she was up, racing through the curtain. Kira wanted to beg her not to go, for any reason. She didn't want to be alone. But she couldn't do a single thing to help herself.

360


Chapter 64 He was being followed. Vincent had led Terranzo's men on a merry chase, getting on the New York Airport Service Express Bus only seconds before it pulled out, and had gone to the back of the bus to see four thugs behind it. One had taken out a satellite phone before Vincent sat in an seat beside a woman with long, curly brown hair. He'd asked her the time, and he'd bent his head with her to look at her watch. To be safe, Vincent had disembarked at the buses' first stop at a hotel, unsure of how many men Terranzo had around the subway station. No one had been at the hotel to meet him. He'd taken a circuitous route back to Grand Central and found all platform levels clear of Terranzo. He hadn't seen Angelo either. A little less than an hour after he'd come out of them, Vincent re-entered the tunnels certain he hadn't been followed and that the subway station was clear for the moment. Vincent stopped, listened. Nothing more than the scurry of track rabbits nearby. Nevertheless, his instincts told him he wasn't alone. He started forward again, hearing nothing, the feeling of not being alone fading slightly. It returned ten minutes later, though no sounds accompanied it. Whoever was following him had feet as light as a ghost in the darkness. Angelo. He hadn't been fooled by the airport ruse. 361


Again, Vincent stopped abruptly. No sounds. He was less than ten minutes from Layason's camp. No, the darkness didn't seem to be impairing Angelo's navigational skills in the least. But if he knew the way to the camp, if he'd already been there, he'd made no move against them. That could only mean Angelo was a friend—or that he hadn't found his way to the camp before. In frustration, Vincent realized he couldn't go forward. He had to take one of the side tunnels and go back to the surface. Angelo would realize sooner more probably than later that Vincent was leading him back the way they'd come. He wouldn't be able to protect himself. Vincent started forward again, knowing the next side tunnel was about three hundred feet ahead. He realized suddenly he felt more than one presence. There were at least two people ahead of him as well. A whisper came from in front of him: "'Darkness has called to darkness, and disgrace elbows about our windows.'" Layason's code, identifying a friend. Two of his runners were ahead of him in the tunnel. Vincent completed the poem in response because he knew something had to be wrong. They'd come looking for him. He had a strong feeling Layason had his men posted at every possible passage to his camp. As the runners came toward him, Vincent ignited the light stick he'd brought only for an emergency. After their eyes adjusted to the soft glow, he indicated they should speak very quietly because he was being followed. Then he listened for 362


movement or sound behind him. None came. Angelo was waiting to find out who'd met him. "She's gotta go to the surface. She's seizin'," the first runner told him. "Doc says she's in trouble. Nothin' he can do for her." Vincent's heart felt like a giant hand reached in and strangled it. "What's happening?" The other runner looked down the tunnel the way Vincent had come from. Vincent leaned back against the stone of the wall, trying to think what he could do with Angelo on his tail. A noise behind him made him raise his head quickly, and he reached for his gun. But the sound moved away instead of coming closer. Putting his hand out to indicate they should be quiet, Vincent listened. While he didn't hear a sound, he knew Angelo had turned back. He was leaving the tunnels, going back the way they'd come. Vincent clenched his teeth, rushing after Angelo. After a few minutes, he knew Angelo was far ahead of him. He was going to the surface, either to prepare an ambush ... or to prevent one. At full speed, Vincent turned around and headed back toward Layason's camp. The runners looked surprised, but backed to opposite sides of the tunnel when he came toward them. He arrived at the camp and shoved back the curtain of their bunker. Piper, Layason and Doc turned toward him, parting to let him see Kira seizing on the mattress. Vincent immediately went to her and tried to console her with his 363


touch along with his voice. Her breathing was too ragged for it to have much affect. "We've gotta get her out," Piper said above him. Vincent looked up and back at Layason. "I was followed. Angelo. He turned back when your runners told me." "So he'll be waitin' if you go out the way you came?" Piper guessed dryly. "If you go any other way, you'll be too far from the hospital." Layason spoke what Vincent already knew. "You have to get her to a hospital now," Doc said. "There's nothing we can do for her here. If this goes on much longer ... there could be permanent damage." Vincent looked down into Kira's face, feeling utterly helpless and yet furious. No one would get between him and getting Kira to a hospital. No one. He glanced at Piper, who seemed to be thinking exactly the same thing. "I wish it hadn't come to this, but I need you, Layason. I need your men." Vincent knew full well that Layason's men weren't trained for any of this. Yet they would fight beside him for the simple reason that Vincent had befriended them for over a decade, taken care of them when they didn't have anyone else to care. He'd warned them long ago that this could happen and they shrugged now as if to say, 'In for a penny, in for a pound'. "Open the door. Get the guns," Layason said. Piper opened the door behind the crates. Layason called his runners to him, and Piper handed out the guns and 364


ammunition. Layason smiled ruthlessly, armed and ready, as if he'd waited for this day with relish instead of the dread Vincent had felt. As their leader, Layason sent runners out ahead of them before turning to Vincent. "We're right behind you," he said calmly.

365


Chapter 65 "What happened?" Vincent asked Piper once they entered the tunnels again, moving fast. He carried Kira, who was still shuddering in his arms. "It started a few minutes ago. I ... I saw she was sleepin'. I was tired, so I turned off the lantern." "I told you to keep it going at all times!" "I thought the light would wake her, and she needed sleep. I'm sorry." Vincent could feel Piper's shame almost tangibly in the darkness. Doc's words were seared in his mind. You have to get her to a hospital now. If this goes on much longer ... there could be permanent damage. He stumbled on, ignoring the stabbing pain in his shoulder. He could feel it was bleeding again. The passage seemed endless. If I don't get her to a hospital, all this was for nothing. My whole life was a waste. The rest of my life... His own thoughts made him advance faster. He would save her. No matter what it took, he would get Kira to a hospital and she would go to their island. She would be safe. Terranzo's men wouldn't stop that. And Angelo wouldn't either. No matter what it takes. Upon nearing the surface, Vincent's mind went into battlestation strategy. He could either get Kira to a cab and straight to the hospital or take the subway, getting off at the stop nearest a hospital. The latter would put them in danger 366


multiple times. Terranzo's men would be waiting in the subway station, could be on the trains, and would no doubt be waiting by any subway exit near a hospital. They'd be safe enough at the hospital, at least for a few hours, hopefully until she was out of danger. Piper would have to go out first, hail them a cab while Layason's men laid down the cover so, once they emerged, Vincent could get out to the cab with Kira. As the group approached the track maintenance doorway out to the lowest level of platform still in use, Vincent began to warn them they'd stop just ahead to go over the plan. He didn't finish his sentence before a light flared near the door. The men in front of Vincent stopped abruptly, still yards before the door. Vincent knew before he verified it that Angelo was waiting for them. He laid Kira gently on the ground, then drew his gun, telling Piper to stay with her. Pushing through Layason's men to Angelo, Vincent saw his mentor was armed and looked nothing like himself, outside of his unmistakable height. Nevertheless, Vincent knew him in a heartbeat. "Terranzo's thugs are waiting for you on every platform," Angelo told him at his approach, his voice another indication of who he really was. There'd been no reason for him to disguise it. "Thanks to you?" Vincent guessed. Angelo shook his dark head. "Thanks to you. Your diversion sent Terranzo into a panic that you might be trying to escape with Elizabeth." He glanced toward Kira, his gaze lingering for a moment. "He's 367


covering the airports and the subway now. You'll never get out of here alive, Kyle, unless you trust me." "I can't do that," Vincent said softly. "Then she'll die and you'll die with her." "You could be leading us right to them. Or away from them, so you can kill her yourself." "Or I could be the only thing standing between you and them. I know you've considered that before. Now, I've got two cabs waiting outside. You have to separate from her if this is going to work. The kid takes her out to a cab. Terranzo is everywhere, but you've got one up on them—they don't know what she looks like. If they see her with you, they'll know. We'll get her out first. Then we'll get you out. The drivers already have instructions to take the two of you to the nearest hospital. The hospital is waiting. You'll be safe there for awhile, but not for long. I hope to God you've got a backup plan for getting out of the city, son. You've sent everyone on a nice, complex chase this far. Don't fail me now." Vincent's mind went through his options the way a computer went through equations to get to the correct answer: Angelo could have killed us all here; he hadn't for either good or evil reasons. If I kill Angelo now, we probably won't make it out of the station anyway. If we trust Angelo ... hell, the odds are pretty equal whether or not we'd make it. Regardless of the risk, it's our best option. With a deep breath, Vincent nodded, and Angelo said softly, "I won't disappoint you, Kyle. I'll go out with the kid—" "Piper." 368


Angelo nodded. "I'll go out with Piper and Elizabeth. Terranzo's men won't recognize me. I'll make sure they get to a cab safely. Then I'll come back for you. Your team will need to cover our egress. Don't go out until I come back, or they might realize who she is." "Vinnie?" Piper called. Angelo turned toward the teenager, and Vincent followed suit. Shocked, he saw Kira attempting to stand with Piper's help. He rushed to her, giving her support on the other side. She'd never come out of a seizure on her own before, especially one as bad as this one had been. Her skin was still slightly blue, yet she was standing with their help. How had she done it? "You're not strong enough," Vincent insisted. "You're going to safety. I'll take care of you. I promise." "We have to go now, Kyle," Angelo said, standing behind him. Vincent looked at him. The pain that crossed Angelo's face for only an instant as he looked at Kira and whispered 'Rosie', burned itself into Vincent's brain. Every instinct for survival inside him told him he shouldn't trust Angelo. Yet he did. "I'm not ... leaving without Vincent," Kira said weakly. Angelo tried a pacifying tone. "You won't be. We'll be right behind—" Kira shook her head, pushing both Piper and Vincent away from her. Miraculously, she stood on her own and a little normal color had come back into her face. "I heard the plan. It won't work. I'm not leaving without Vincent. We go together or we don't go at all." 369


"Kira, you're not well enough," Vincent insisted. She pulled back the side of his jacket, where blood seeped uncontrollably out of his shoulder wounds. "Neither are you. Now, we can argue about this until they come for us, or someone can give me a goddamn gun. We fight, side-by-side, Vincent, the way we were meant to." The harshness of her tone was gentled by the touch of her lips to his. He couldn't fight her. If they didn't go now, it would be too late. Layason handed Kira, Piper and Vincent guns. Vincent checked his own and the spare to make sure they were fully loaded and ready to fire. As they filed out onto the platform, Vincent fell in step behind Angelo and Piper, side-by-side with Kira. He didn't have time to pay attention, but he saw the determination in her face and a wave of awe and love filled him. Since a train had just left ten minutes ago—Vincent had heard it rumbling past overhead—there weren't too many commuters on the platform. Picking Terranzo's men out of the remaining citizens took no time at all. At least a dozen, maybe two, had been called in. They were scattered in every direction. He started to point them out to Kira in a low tone, but she muttered, "I know. I heard you and Piper." The shooting began as soon as they saw him with Layason's people. Vincent's instinct was to defend Kira first and foremost, yet he was amazed to see her holding her own. She'd been a good shot as a child. Every step they took toward the exit was covered by human obstacles. For as many as they took out, five more 370


appeared. Adrenaline poured through Vincent just like it had years ago, when he'd been an operative. His eyes located the obstacles, verified, he aimed and took them out one by one. He even smiled a little. We're getting out of here, Kira. Together. Just as soon as we get through these hurdles. "Go!" Angelo urged behind him, and Vincent pushed toward the exit, behind Kira, as more of Terranzo's thugs poured in like rats. Bodies littered the platform—more of Layason's men than Terranzo's. They were no match for hired killers and, even as Vincent took each of their deaths like a permanent scar, he accepted that it had to be this way. To ensure Kira's safety, this was the price. Kira ducked behind a row of trash cans near the exit. Vincent dove over the body of a transit cop alongside her. When she rose with re-loaded guns, he punched new clips into each of his, then turned back to the battle. Seven men came at them firing. Vincent moved out of the temporary protection of the trash cans, standing beside Kira. Together, they aimed and aimed again. Four men fell to the concrete, and he and Kira inched nearer to the exit with Piper and Angelo right behind them. The sense of moving in slow motion washed over Vincent like a dream he'd slipped into. He saw Terranzo's men advancing toward them and wondered why he couldn't get his fingers to work. Did he need to re-load again? But then he heard Angelo speak from seemingly miles away, his face directly in front of his. His lips moved, his teeth clenched, but 371


his words sounded sluggish. Vincent turned away abruptly, and he felt Kira's arms catch him, heard the distant roar of vengeance come from her, followed by two definitive gunshots. Vincent fell forward, but Angelo and Kira had him. Layason was there and nodded that he would take it from here. Kira and Angelo dragged him out of the station to a waiting cab with Piper behind them and Layason covering their escape. "Step on it!" Angelo shouted, slapping sharp focus into Vincent. Reality flooded back. He was laying across the backseat of the cab with his head on Angelo's lap. Kira and Piper were in the front seat, a look of fear in their eyes as they stared at him. When Vincent touched his hand to his chest, on the opposite side from his shoulder wounds, his fingers came back sticky with fresh blood. "I'm hit," he realized. "Bad?" Angelo just looked down at him, saying everything and nothing. "He needs a doctor. Do we have time?" Kira demanded, tears in her eyes. Leaning over the front seat, Piper asked, "Will Terranzo find us at the hospital?" "If we're there long, yes. The hospital staff will contact the police when they see he was shot. We'll have to be gone before they can do anything about it." His tone was soft. If he didn't make it, Angelo would make sure Kira and Piper got to where they needed to go. 372


"Terranzo's watching every portal out of the city," Angelo said what Vincent well knew. "Kira's made the papers since she disappeared a week ago—her doorman reported it. She's well-known in many circles, even though you've managed to keep a low profile for the two of you—when did you sleep, Kyle? When it hits the papers first thing tomorrow morning that Kira Gunn and her assistant were accidentally killed in a drug-related shoot-out in Grand Central Station, Giles will put two and two together, even if Terranzo doesn't. That won't be enough to keep you safe for long. You'll have to get out of the city tonight." Angelo would feed the story to the media, back-filling to make sure the autopsy reports matched the story. Vincent nodded. The cab driver said something, and Piper turned back to take care of it. "What about the girl?" Angelo asked. "Did you train her? She fingered most of Terranzo's men the first night the three of you disappeared underground. Regular citizens couldn't have done that." "Not enough to compromise the Network," Vincent said, his mouth dry. "But Piper Laslow can take care of herself. Just like Kira can." Kira had taken care of him back in that subway station. She'd fought beside him, and she'd taken the lead when he went down. She'd helped him to get out of the station and into the cab.

373


Angelo glanced up and around. When he turned back, his expression told Vincent they hadn't been followed. Layason's men were keeping them at bay for the moment. As Angelo weaved in and out before his eyes, Vincent struggled to hold onto consciousness. "Dammit, Kyle—" "You deactivated my global transponder, didn't you?" he muttered thickly, forcing his eyes open. "Fifteen years ago. When you disappeared with Elizabeth. Giles wanted to reactivate it, but I made sure it couldn't be done. Told him yours was damaged somehow. I reactivated the local transponder when you were in Chicago, in case you tried to get into the compound. Which you did. If you and my niece disappear now, they'll never find you again." "You knew where we were all these years." Vincent realized that now, and Angelo nodded. "You're going after Jameson." Angelo would have to get to Shannon McKee in Washington. D.C. McKee was the only person alive who could stop Jameson. Angelo had the proof to take Jameson down ... if he made it there at all. "Let's concentrate on getting you to the hospital first," Angelo said, looking around again. Vincent closed his eyes helplessly, wanting to sleep, but Angelo called him back again. "We're family now, Kyle, just like I always wanted." With effort, Vincent looked at him. "Rosie and Andy couldn't have hand-picked a better man for their daughter." 374


Vincent felt his mentor's hand on the top of his head, tenderly stroking his hair. Only Kira had ever been tender with him. He needed that, and he needed this. He could trust Angelo. Angelo hadn't betrayed him. "You were like a son to me fifteen years ago, Kyle. Now you are my son, even if we'll never see each other again after this night." The guilt Vincent felt for doubting him as long as he'd had to overwhelmed him, just as his relief did, but Angelo only smiled at him. "I would have done the same thing. Guilty until proven innocent. It was the only way to save her. Thank you for everything you've done for my niece." "I love her. I have from the moment I saw her. Nothing else matters more to me." The darkness came crashing down on him like a bolt of lighting striking his chest and yanking him out of consciousness.

375


Chapter 66 Kira opened her eyes and closed them immediately again in the brightness and against the excruciating pain in her head. Her seizure in the tunnels had left her weak with a migraine. Angelo had told her to sleep while Vincent was in surgery. Though she hadn't wanted to, sleep had come all too easily. She heard voices from somewhere behind her, but she didn't move from the waiting room chair when she recognized them, though they came in whispers. "The helicopter will meet us on the roof as soon as he's out of surgery," Uncle Angelo said. "I'll prepare for transport." "What about hospital records?" Piper asked. "I'll delete everything on both of them once the helicopter is in the air. Can you get her to Vincent's destination when we reach Florida?" "You mean if he doesn't make it?" Piper guessed softly, and there was a pause between them. Kira held her breath, waiting for the reply. "Can you get her there?" Angelo merely repeated in lieu of answering. Must run in this secret organization 'family', Kira thought without bitterness. If you're not an operative, you need to be taken care of. You're incapable of taking care of yourself. Well, she'd disproved that today. She'd come out of the seizure from force of will, and in part from the restoration of good air at the surface, upon overhearing Vincent and Angelo talking about their plan to get her to safety and damn their 376


own. She couldn't have allowed that. She'd faced the enemy with them, held her own with them. She'd taken care of Vincent for once. "Yeah, we'll get there," Piper said confidently. "If Vinnie makes it, what are you gonna do?" Kira clenched her teeth at the agony of not hearing 'Vincent will make it; he'll be fine'. He'd gone into cardiac arrest in the cab just at the moment they arrived at the hospital, but the doctors were able to revive him. "What I have to do. What has he told you? About us?" "Nothin'. But I know you're some white hat org. Undercover." "You figured that out on your own, did you?" Angelo said harshly. "Well, it won't do any good for you to know if I don't make it to D.C." "I could be an asset to you. I could help you do whatever you gotta do." "You don't know what you're getting into, kid." "I know I got what it takes to do it. I think you know it, too." "Our operatives go through two years of intense, endless training. You'll never be put through anything harder in your life. A lot of recruits never make it. What makes you think you will, wildcat?" "I was born for it. Ask Vinnie." After a pause that made Kira strain to hear more, Angelo confessed reluctantly, "I did ask him. I know he trusts you with his life. With Elizabeth's ... Kira's life. And that's everything." 377


"So?" "We'll see, Piper." Kira sat up, then pushed herself to her feet. "I'll delete the hospital records," she said when she stood in front of Angelo. Her uncle. The reality of their bond still seemed like a lifetime ago. Someone's else's lifetime. She remembered, if little else, Angelo's kind green eyes. His smile. She remembered Angelo putting Joe in her arms and telling her it would be all right soon. He and her daddy would be safe soon. Vincent had said they couldn't trust him, despite the inclination they both had to do otherwise, but he'd trusted him out there tonight. Angelo had warranted his trust, too. "You have the skill?" "Yes. I can do it. It won't be a problem." She'd learned plenty about getting into a system and wrecking havoc, though it'd mostly been done at a cushioned distance from anything important. "Vincent..." Angelo's tone and eyes were haunted with unvoiced worry when he said, "He went into arrest again in surgery, but we're still waiting to find out how he's doing in there." When Angelo slid a hand into the pocket of his jacket and brought out a doll, Kira muttered thickly, "Joe." "I wish I had time to hear the whole story about what you and Kyle have been through these past fifteen years. Do you remember me, Elizabeth?" "You're my mother's brother," she said. "You gave me Joe." 378


A soldier, like my parents. Strong, the way I always wanted to be. Angelo nodded, painful nostalgia in his eyes. Vincent trusted him. Angelo had the means and countless opportunities to kill them both if that was his intention. Kira could trust in him, too. "I don't blame you or Kyle for doubting me," Angelo assured her. "In the same situation, I wouldn't know who to trust. Maybe once this is all over, you'll be able to accept that I loved your mother. I loved your father. And I love you and Kyle. There's nothing I wouldn't do to keep the two of you safe. I've entrusted you to Kyle for the past fifteen years. He's taken good care of you. I expected nothing less from him. You took care of him today and proved to me that you're worthy of him as well, Elizabeth." Kira closed her eyes on the words. Without Vincent, she'd never have known what love was. Loyalty. Strength. None of this would have been worth anything if he didn't make it. "God, you look just like your mother," Angelo marveled under his breath, and Kira's mind re-captured a fuzzy memory of this man hugging her mother; the two of them smiling. "Your parents did the unthinkable when they fell in love, Elizabeth. It's forbidden, but some things ... some things you can't control or prevent, even in the face of danger. They wanted you more than anything. They gave their lives to keep you safe. Nothing else mattered to them. I swore I'd protect you. I swore that to both of them, before they died in my arms." 379


There was a sheen in Angelo's eyes when he added, "I knew where you and Kyle were all these years. A part of me hoped you'd never need to know where you came from, but I knew it had to happen this way. But it can't happen again. When the two of you disappear this time, you can never come back out. It's the only way you'll be safe. I'll make sure no one will look for you. I promise you that." "What about you?" Kira asked, her voice strained. "You won't see me again. I have things I have to do." Kira heard what he didn't say. Whatever Angelo had to do was dangerous. He might not make it, might not survive—just as there was a chance Vincent wouldn't survive. Vincent had saved her life; he'd risked both of their lives for the chance to give her everything she needed to be whole. If she made it to their private island in paradise, she would be safe from danger for the first time in her life. And she would spend the rest of her life without the person who mattered the most to her.

380


Epilogue A storm was on the way, Kira recognized as the wind picked up and whipped against her wildly in the purple and gray-shrouded sky. She stood with her arms over the railing of the wrap-around porch, anxiously watching the ocean and the path between the trees. In the almost two years she'd been on the island, she'd learned to read the weather and could honestly say it was the only part of 'remote island life' that caused her worry. Otherwise, life was peaceful, quiet, relaxed. Lonely. Occasionally boats appeared in the distance, but never came any closer. Planes flew over the island, but didn't land or descend too far below the clouds. Janice and Steven Krieger and their three children lived on the other side of the island, close enough to visit when desired, and only as far as the radio inside the house. Knowing they weren't completely alone on this island assuaged the infrequent longing Kira had to be part of civilization again. The wind gusted stronger and rain blasted down from the dark sky. God, I miss Vincent! Kira heard a noise behind her and turned to see a little face pressed up against the patio door. She smiled even as she tried to look at her fifteen-month-old son sternly. Giggling, he raced back into the house before she'd crossed the deck to the door.

381


"Angelo," she called, struggling to slide the door closed behind her, "you're supposed to be in bed, asleep. You know that." Inside his room, she turned the dimmer switch up, but found his bed empty. Kira shook her head affectionately. Angelo and his late-night games of hide-and-seek—anything to delay settling down in one place for a long time. She looked for him in all his favorite places to hide, and finally found his bottom in yellow pajamas sticking out of a kitchen cabinet. He giggled happily when she lifted him out and back against her shoulder, where she gave him a raspberry kiss that made him laugh even harder. "Stay awake," he insisted, even as his pudgy arms wrapped around her neck and he curled up against her. "I know you don't want to sleep, baby, but you need to." Since he'd learned to crawl and, not long afterward, walk, Angelo didn't rest until he dropped like a stone, his tiny body demanding sleep, no excuses. "Time to sleep, my little adventurer," she whispered. When he sighed, she looked down at him in her arms and couldn't help drawing a sharp breath of overwhelmed love. He was asleep, his dark, thickly-fringed eyes closed at last in temporary contentment. Vincent's eyes. Another reason he put off going to bed for as long as possible—he didn't like to sleep alone. He liked to have the warmth of another person beside him. Every morning, very early, she opened her eyes to find him sneaking into the bed. She could never scold him for it either. 382


After she lay him on his bed, she sat beside him for a long time and stroked the soft fabric of the pajamas she'd made for him, stroked his silky dark hair. Hair so much like his daddy's. Then she pressed a kiss to his temple, lingering near his tiny ear to breathe in his sweet scent. "I love you, Angelo." She drew up the railing to keep him from falling out of bed and went back out to the deck, where the wind gusted stronger and rain blasted down from the dark sky. Taking a deep breath, she tried to quell the tightness in her chest. The storm would be full-blown soon. She'd have to go inside. Yet she lingered longer, holding onto the deck as the storm buffeted against her from seemingly every side. Movement on the path made her chest heave in relief, especially when Vincent came into view. "You should be inside," he shouted over the wind, mounting the deck. "So should you," she scolded. Together, they fought their way to the patio doors and burst inside. He locked the door securely behind them. "What took you so long?" Kira asked, trying to catch her breath. "Stayed longer than I meant to. We barely had time to lock down the site before the storm hit." When they'd arrived on the island what seemed like such a long time ago, both luxury houses had been built and all the materials to erect another 'community building' for their families had already been delivered. Steven had designed the structure, and he and Vincent were working together on building it at their own pace. Kira joined them there less often 383


lately because of Angelo's penchant for getting into everything. "I was worried." "I'm sorry." Vincent drew her into his arms. "You're soaked." "So are you." He grinned, brushing wet strands of hair back from her face. "Maybe we should get out of these wet things and into a hot shower." His cold mouth covered her knowing smile, but he warmed quickly against her. He drew back slightly a moment later, resting his forehead against hers. "I missed you two today. How's our little Indiana Jones-wannabe?" Kira laughed. "Finally asleep, after three rousing games of hide-and-seek. He missed you today, too. He tried so hard to stay out of bed. He wanted to see you before he went to sleep. You just missed his final stand." Wordlessly, arms wrapped around each other, they went to Angelo's bedroom and Vincent looked down at his son, asleep. The longing he had to take him in his arms was written in every line of his body and his face when he whispered, "Angelo." Kira's heart filled at the love between father and son. Nothing touched her more than seeing the two of them together. Vincent tucked her old G.I. Joe doll against Angelo, and he pulled it close instinctively. Joe had been Angelo's favorite toy since he was newborn. Inside the spacious bathroom, Vincent undressed himself quickly, then helped her. "How did you feel today?" Vincent asked once they were in the shower, under a hot spray. 384


"I think the worst of it's passed." His hands stroked tenderly, lovingly over the curve of her growing belly. Janice had estimated that Kira was close to five months pregnant. Though she was a full-fledged medical doctor, Janice also fancied herself something of a prognosticator as well. She'd predicted they would have a girl this time. In hopes Janice was right, they'd already chosen the name 'Rosalia Piper' for this child. "Maybe we'll have twins," Vincent said when he drew her as close as he could. Kira giggled at his straining over her belly between them. "I don't think I'm as flexible as I was five months ago. This might not work in here," she murmured, chuckling at his reluctant agreement. They dried off and wrapped themselves in towels outside the shower, and Vincent said, "If we have fraternal girl-boy twins, we can name one of them Rosalia Piper and the other Andy." Kira glanced at him and saw something more than the desire to choose names for their children. She saw the old haunting in his eyes, wondering what had become of Angelo and Piper two years ago. Vincent had gotten out of surgery without arresting again the night he'd been shot in the subway station, but he'd been weak, hanging on by sheer tenacity. They'd feared he wouldn't make it even as far as the helicopter waiting for them on the roof. Unfortunately, they'd had no choice but to take him up. Terranzo's men would search the hospitals sooner rather than later and the police would come to ask 385


questions. Before they'd headed to the roof and the helicopters, Angelo had kept the staff from being alerted to Vincent being taken off his machines and monitors by reprogramming them. Kira had deleted their computerized hospital records, and Piper destroyed the hard copies. Kira had been surprised to find two helicopters on the roof. Piper had gotten into one of the choppers with Angelo instead of the one with them. Vincent had explained after hasty goodbyes that Piper was going with Angelo to Washington, D.C., to give #1 evidence that would incite an internal investigation of the Network and its corrupt Head of Operations. When Kira had inquired in shock about the danger involved, the grave look in Vincent's eyes had made her realize there was a better-than-average chance they wouldn't make it. He'd reassured her if anyone could pull it off, it was Angelo. He'd also told her Piper was safe with Angelo. If they succeeded, she would be officially trained to become a Network operative. Piper had been willing to give up her life, give up the possibility of ever seeing her mother again, for that prospect. Her mother was safe, though—she'd done everything she could to provide for her in the event she didn't join her. Vincent had never told Piper about the Network specifically, yet Piper had believed in the mission of the organization and knew she'd find purpose and direction there, just as Vincent had as a teenager. Unmolested, Kira and Vincent had made it to Key West, to the Half-Shell Fish Market, where they'd asked for Senorita Sombra. She'd taken them to a remote hangar. Though no one said it, Kira had had a strong feeling that the senorita 386


wasn't a law-abiding citizen. Not in the least. The four twinengine planes in her camouflaged hangar and the airstrip outside couldn't have been used for legal purposes. Kira knew what mattered to Vincent was that they wouldn't be detected by anyone. They'd taken off from the airstrip with Senorita Sombra piloting, their lives in her hands. Kira would never forget the first time she'd seen their island in the distance, quite literally in the middle of nowhere and surrounded by unfathomably blue waters on all sides, as far as the eye could see. The sky had never looked so beautiful, nor trees so exquisite. She'd caught her breath at the sight of it, the serenity it seemed to offer as it beckoned them closer. Kira hadn't felt an ounce of fear when the senorita dropped them off there and took off again after refueling, leaving them as far as a person could get from civilization and danger. Janice and Steven had met the plane as soon as it landed and gotten them quickly to their house, where Janice spent weeks on end nursing them both back to full health. Kira had quickly come to appreciate her new home and neighbors. Senorita Sombra returned every three months with supplies, and, since all record of her law-breaking exploits had magically disappeared, there was no fear that she'd unexpectedly leave them isolated on the island. Even when Vincent was at his weakest then, he'd been onguard for the possibility they'd been followed here or would be found eventually. The guarded unrest that their safety could be compromised at a moment's notice had remained for years, just beneath his surface, never far from any of them. 387


He'd spent many years worrying about the seizures that had almost killed her, but she hadn't had another one since they'd left the tunnels under the subway. They had no way of knowing whether Angelo and Piper succeeded in getting to Shannon McKee or whether the Network continued to function—either corruptly or with their original purpose of upholding justice for all, no matter the cost. Kira had coped with the uncertainty the only way she could—by believing steadfastly they had succeeded because she couldn't and didn't want to imagine them failing. No one had ever come for them. Kira held that out to Vincent as encouragement that they had succeeded, although she knew it'd never fully convinced him. Only lately had Kira become aware of a deeper sense of happiness in Vincent, a release and shift toward freedom she'd never seen him experience before. She followed him through the hall to Angelo's bedroom once more and watched as Vincent sat next to his son, caressing him and whispering to him. Angelo curled gratefully toward him in his sleep. Kira knew he'd been waiting subconsciously to hear his daddy's voice and to feel his presence in the house before he let himself rest completely. Before dawn broke, he'd be up and snuggling between the two of them in their bed. They'd best take what privacy they could get tonight. They crossed the hall to their room. After shedding their robes, they climbed beneath the covers together, reaching for each other immediately. 388


"I love you, Vincent. God, I love you." She barely heard the tumult battering the house because they were warm and well-protected inside. "I love you, too, Kira." When they kissed again, she opened her eyes and saw tears in his. "What is it?" He shook his head, smiling a little. "I just ... I think we're safe here. I think it's over, finally, in here." He put a hand on his heart. "Inside me. I think I can finally believe it and let go. I think I can let myself believe Angelo and Piper made it, that they're taking care of everything out there. We're miles from anywhere, but I have everything I'll ever need or want." As if agreeing with him, the child inside her kicked, and Vincent laughed. "I felt that!" His hand covered the area where the little foot kicked again. "We're waiting for you," he murmured to their unborn child. Not waiting for the worst. Not waiting in fear that the peace they'd found on their island paradise could be torn away at any moment. Waiting only for another life to add to their precious family. Vincent looked into her eyes and repeated the unforgettable marriage vows they'd exchanged what seemed a lifetime ago, in the tunnels beneath Grand Central Station, "I'll never break my bond with you, Kira. My life is yours." Kira sighed in contentment. "And my life is yours, Vincent. Forever."

389


Author's Note Much literary license has been taken in presenting the New York City Subway tunnels and 'the mole people' who are rumored to live underground in them. The Mole People by Jennifer Toth (Chicago Review Press, 1993) favors the belief that the rumors are true. Joseph Brennan, who works in the Academic Technologies Group of Academic Information Systems at Columbia University in the City of New York, disputes the rumors in depth on his website located at www.columbia.edu/~brennan. Thanks to Joseph for answering my questions. As Joseph said when I told him about this book, for purposes of fiction, validity of the mole people and the underground tunnels isn't too much of a worry. Thanks also to John Gorman (author of 'King of the Romans', an EPPIE 2000 finalist in historical fiction) who sent me maps and answered my endless questions about New York and the subways. Finally, thanks to Shirley Cayer and Victoria Hinshaw for helping me with my Chicago research.

390


Look for Until Death Do Us Part, Book 2 of the Incognito Series, coming November 2006 only from Whiskey Creek Press: Corrupt former Head of Operations, Giles Jameson is MIA, intent on destroying the reporters who uncovered his dirty deeds. Network operatives Kirsten Ulrick and Ash Barnett go undercover to protect Raven Harris and her husband from their seemingly invisible enemy. When Raven and Casey lost their child to a supposed accident, they lost their marriage as well. They live together as guilt-ridden strangers, afraid to love and trust each other again ... and just as afraid to let go of the bond they once shared. When Raven's life is threatened because of evidence she and her partner uncovered on Giles and the Network and old, unhealed wounds are pierced again, Raven and Casey must renew their vows or let go forever ... dead or alive. Ash and Kirsten accept that they can't protect the Harris' without becoming involved in their lives, but seeing the couples' pain reflects their own private torment. For them, there is no life and no love, only duty.

391


ABOUT THE AUTHOR Karen Wiesner is an accomplished author with 28 books published in the past 8 years, which have been nominated/won 47 awards, and 19 more titles contracted for spanning many categories and formats. Named a "leading romance writer" in The Writer Magazine, Karen's many series' include the Gypsy Road Series, the Angelfire Trilogy, Dare to Love Series as well as the newest, Wounded Warriors Series. Her novels have been nominated for multiple Romantic Times' Reviewer's Choice Awards, the Frankfurt Award, FTHRW's The Lories' Best Published Contest, the Daphne du Maurier Award, many L-edit Slip Contest awards, and numerous EPPIE's. Karen also writes police procedural mysteries with awardwinning author Chris Spindler of Auenwald, Germany. The first book in their Falcon's Bend Series, Degrees of Separation, was originally available in a limited edition hardcover. Degrees of Separation received a 4 star review from Romantic Times and was a March 2004 Top Pick. The Falcon's Bend Case Files, Volume I anthology will be released in July 2006. Degrees of Separation will be re-issued in trade paperback and electronic formats in December 2006. Tears on Stone, Book 2 in the series, will be released in December 2006. Karen designed covers for all three books. Visit Karen and Chris' Falcon's Bend Community, where you'll find giveaways, details on the next Falcon's Bend releases, fun facts, games, and information about the series at: www.falconsbend.com. 392


Currently, Karen has sold the first five books in a new romantic action/adventure series called the Incognito Series to Whiskey Creek Press www.whiskeycreekpress.com. The release schedule is as follows: No Ordinary Love (coming July 2006), Until Death Do Us Part (coming November 2006), Bounty on the Rebel's Heart (coming March 2007), Dead Drop (coming July 2007) and Under the Spell (coming October 2007). Books 1 and 2 were finalists in FTHRW's 2004 Lories' Best Proposal contest. In the L-Edit Slip contest, No Ordinary Love and Until Death Do Us Part both took a 3rd while Dead Drop took 2nd place. Karen designed all the Incognito Series covers herself. Karen's first writing reference title with Writer's Digest Books, First Draft in 30 Days (a Writer's Digest Book Club Main Selection in March 2005), is now available wherever writing reference titles are sold. Visit the First Draft bonus website, where you'll find articles and supplementals to the book, at www.firstdraftin30days.com. Karen also writes children's books and poetry. Karen is the founding member of Jewels of the Quill www.JewelsoftheQuill.com, a promotional group of women authors who write in a variety of genres. The group has monthly spotlights and giveaways at their website, and was featured in the September 2003 issue of Romantic Times BOOKclub. Jewels of the Quill has sold six anthologies to Whiskey Creek Press. Tales from the Treasure Trove, Volume I was released September 2005 (with Karen's traditional romance "The Amethyst Angel"). It received a 4 1/2 star review and was a September 2005 Top Pick from Romantic 393


Times BOOKclub, is a Romantic Times 2005 Reviewers' Choice Award Nominee (Best Small Press Romance)and an EPPIE 2006 winner. Tales from the Treasure Trove, Volume II contains "The Amethyst Star" by Karen Wiesner, futuristic romance. Tales from the Treasure Trove, Volume III will be released in March 2007 ("Revenge in Amethyst", Adventures in Amethyst Series, Book 2, by Karen Wiesner, romantic thriller). Jewels of the Quill will also be doing annual holiday anthologies with Whiskey Creek Press. The first anthology, featuring six of the authors, is Christmas-themed and titled Small Gifts (available now and including Karen's inspirational romance "A Home for Christmas"). Treasures of the Heart is a Valentine's Day anthology (available now with "A Rose for Romeo", the first in Karen's Adventures in Amethyst Series). Treasures of the Heart was a finalist in The Romance Studio's Cupid and Psyche Awards for best contemporary romance. Shadows in the Heart is a Halloween anthology (coming September 2007 with "Papa", romantic horror, the first in Karen's Woodcutter's Grim Series—Classic Tales of Horror Retold). Karen has designed all the Jewels of the Quill covers. In addition, Karen's Jewels of the Quill anthology stories will be packaged in the following collections: Dame Amethyst Treasures, including "The Amethyst Angel," "A Home for Christmas," "The Amethyst Star" and a bonus, never-beforepublished romantic paranormal (coming July 2007 from Whiskey Creek Press). Adventures in Amethyst Series, including "A Rose for Romeo" (Book 1), "Revenge in Amethyst" (Book 2) plus a bonus story never before published "Christmas in Amethyst" (Book 3), coming September 2007 394


from WCP. Woodcutter's Grim Series, including "Papa" (Book 1), "Blood of Amethyst" (Book 2) plus a bonus story never before published, "The Amethyst Tower" (Book 3), coming late 2008 from WCP. Find out more about Karen by visiting her website at www.karenwiesner.com. If you would like to receive Karen's free e-mail newsletter, Karen's Quill, send a blank message to: [email protected].

395


For your reading pleasure, we invite you to visit our web bookstore ****

**** WHISKEY CREEK PRESS www.whiskeycreekpress.com

If you are connected to the Internet, take a moment to rate this eBook by going back to your bookshelf at www.fictionwise.com.

396

No Ordinary Love

No Ordinary Love

No Ordinary Sheriff

No Ordinary Hero

No Ordinary Groom

No Ordinary Day

No Ordinary Cowboy

No Ordinary Day

No Ordinary Princess

No Ordinary Joe

No Ordinary Day

No Ordinary Groom

No Ordinary Hero

No Ordinary Place

No Ordinary Man

No Ordinary Man

No Ordinary Sheriff

Ordinary Love and Good Will

Ordinary Love and Good Will

Ordinary Love and Good Will

Love Means No Shame

Love Means... No Fear

No Truer Love

Love Means No Boundaries

No Greater Love

Love Means No Shame

No Leavin Love

Love Means... No Boundaries

No Greater Love

No Cure for Love

No Ordinary Love

No Ordinary Love

No Ordinary Sheriff

No Ordinary Hero

No Ordinary Groom

No Ordinary Day

No Ordinary Cowboy

No Ordinary Day

No Ordinary Princess

No Ordinary Joe

No Ordinary Day

No Ordinary Groom

No Ordinary Hero

No Ordinary Place

No Ordinary Man

No Ordinary Man

No Ordinary Sheriff

Ordinary Love and Good Will

Ordinary Love and Good Will

Ordinary Love and Good Will

Love Means No Shame

Love Means... No Fear

No Truer Love

Love Means No Boundaries

No Greater Love

Love Means No Shame

No Leavin Love

Love Means... No Boundaries

No Greater Love

No Cure for Love

Recommend Documents