Angels and Ministers of Grace Page 9

  "But it's exactly what he's waiting for!"

  "Probably. But if you know of a better way to flush him out, I'd love to hear it. I've contacted the Guild and officially asked for a telepath to hunt him out, but they've refused, of course. They say that such a person couldn't possibly exist, and they don't take kindly to people like me spreading vicious rumors." She took her eyes off of him and glanced with studied casualness around the room, but he could see by the stiffening of her features that they'd pissed her off.

  They sat in silence for a moment while Jason watched his captain with a critical eye. Knowing her, she'd handled the rejection and insult with her usual aplomb, but she was only human and needed to vent just as much as the next person. Problem was, he was bad company for that right now and wasn't up for a long political tirade.

  So he evaded. "Nice dress, Marty."

  For once, she seemed to fall for the distraction, smiling smugly and smoothing a hand over the deep red material. "Thanks. It's new."

  "Is that velvet?"

  "And silk. Paid way too much, but sometimes you just have to splurge." She primped a little, and it was such an unusual sight that he grinned. She grinned back, dark eyes twinkling. "That's better, Jace. I was afraid you'd forgotten how to do that."

  "Do what?"

  "Smile. Are you going to be okay? You want tomorrow off?"

  He waved an impatient hand. "No, damn it. I'm fine. There's too much to do, anyway."

  "Nonsense. Frank and I can handle it for one day—"

  "I'm not taking time off! Quite mothering me."

  "You never take any time off—"

  "Get out. I need sleep. That's all."

  "Are you sure—"

  "I'll throw you out, if you really want me to." He even leaned forward to back up the threat, but she was completely unimpressed, rolling her eyes at him.

  "Did I mention stubborn and irritating?"

  "Marty…" he said in a warning growl.

  She threw up her hands and stood. "All right, all right, I'm going. Get some rest. I'll see you in the morning."

  Jason grunted in response, not bothering to escort her to the door. She let herself in; she could damned well let herself right back out again. When she was gone he slumped further down in the chair and closed his eyes, trying to shut out his thoughts as easily as he'd shut out his surroundings. It didn't work.

  Why had he lost control? He hadn't done that since Peter's death—and that had been a little more provoking than a slip of a woman with a killer smile. What was it about her that pushed him so close to the edge? And why did the thought of her in danger make him want to jump out of his own skin?

  He supposed he owed her an apology. The thought made him grimace and rub his eyes until dark spots danced across his vision. He wasn't looking forward to it. She'd probably try to take advantage of the moment and push her idea again. The woman was crazy if she thought he'd let her throw herself into the fire like that. Or take matters into her own hands…

  Remembering that she'd said she would try it on her own jolted him up out of the chair. "Threshold duty, report," he snapped as he began pacing again, irritably rubbing the back of his neck.

  "Sir, all clear."

  "Have any of the women tried to leave?"

  "No, sir!" The guard sounded flabbergasted that he'd even suggest it. "Your orders are clear, sir—they are not to leave their rooms, and they are allowed no visitors."

  "From now on, I want to be notified if they open that door for any reason. Understood?"

  "Yes, sir," the guard mumbled in a less than enthusiastic voice, and Jason gritted his teeth. It seemed that everyone was defecting to that woman's side.

  Taking the communicator out of his ear so he wouldn't be tempted to take his temper out on the guard, he stalked into the bedroom and stripped out of his uniform. It was still early, and he wasn't the least bit sleepy, but the alternatives weren't very inviting. Watching news feeds from Central held the same appeal as getting a nail ripped out. Exercising only energized him, which is why he did his workouts in the mornings. If he started in on station business, he'd never get any sleep, and his usual routine of listening to music to help him unwind had been broken when his favorite musician had shown up on his station.

  Jason settled for a hot shower, which was hopelessly inadequate for loosening his muscles. A shot of vodka relieved a little of the tension in the back of his neck, but did nothing to block his mind from taking paths it shouldn't. As predicted, candlelight and blue velvet kept him awake far into the night.

  Chapter 9

  The next morning, Jason decided to get the apology out of the way early. The longer he waited, the harder it was going to be, so he might as well just get it done. What he didn't expect, however, was the response he got to ringing the door chime on the women's quarters and announcing himself.

  "Go away!"

  He blinked at the closed door for a moment before shooting a quick look from one guard to the next. Their faces were carefully blank. Music could be heard coming from inside, and there was a strange rhythmic thumping.

  "What are they doing in there?"

  "Most mornings they exercise or practice dance routines, sir."

  And for that he was being turned away? Jason felt the anger that was so quick to surface around Anya start to throb at his temples. As if he had nothing better to do. He rang the door chime again, and when he got the same response, he keyed in the override sequence. Clenching his jaw, he stepped inside—and immediately regretted it.

  The four women were indeed exercising. The furniture had been moved out of the way and a large, holographic mirror had been set up against one wall. All four were wearing form-fitting exercise outfits that seemed to bare more skin than they covered, but his attention was riveted on Anya. And he'd thought last night's dress was bad.

  Anya paused at his entrance and planted hands on hips in an unwelcome stance. The other three didn't even glance at him, continuing their routine uninterrupted as she snapped, "What?"

  Tamping down his own aggressive response to her hostility, he kept his tone level with an effort. "I came to apologize for last night."

  "Really? Which part?" She stalked towards him until they were nearly toe to toe. She had her hair up in a careless bundle at the back of her head, strands clinging to the damp skin of her neck and framing her face. Her eyes flashed dark blue challenge at him, and every line of her body said she was spoiling for a fight. Jason clenched his hands together at the small of his back to keep from touching her.

  "Are you going to apologize for your ill-mannered silence through dinner? Or for when you rudely left the table? Or maybe for the marks you left on my arms? Or could it be possible that you're actually going to admit that you might be wrong about something?"

  He cast a swift glance at her arms and didn't see any marks, but that didn't mean there hadn't been any last night. He couldn't remember how hard he'd gripped her. Chewing on unaccustomed guilt, he muttered through stiff lips, "For losing my temper."

  She rocked back on her heels and widened her eyes in mock amazement. "No kidding! I wasn't sure you were even aware of it, since you always seem to be in a temper. Are you willing to discuss my proposal now?"

  He slowly shook his head as he spoke. "The dangers far outweigh—"

  "Bullshit!" she snapped, poking a finger into his chest.

  He had an unexpected and almost uncontrollable urge to smile and had to bite down savagely on the inside of one cheek to stop it. The woman continued to surprise him at every turn.

  "You aren't the one who is caged up like an animal, so don't talk to me about dangers! If I didn't think it was worth it, I wouldn't have suggested it." Abruptly, she took a step back with an ominous narrowing of her eyes. "Are you laughing at me?"

  Either she'd seen some of his amusement in his face or she was reading his emotions again. The second possibility squelched his humor in a hurry. "We have no idea what he's capable of. He's had plenty of time to come up with a
thousand different ways to kill you if you leave this place. I'm telling you, that is not a valid option—more like suicide."

  "And you have no idea what I'm capable of! Besides, it's not like I'd be out there all alone. You and your people have done a great job of protecting me so far."

  Very sneaky, he thought with a bitter twist of his mouth, to throw a compliment into the middle of an argument. He had the urge to shake her again, but suspected that it was just an excuse to put his hands on her. Aware that his pulse was up several notches from its normal pace and thoroughly irritated by it, he lifted his gaze over her head as he responded, "What if we're not enough? He's done a hell of a job screwing with us so far. What makes you think we'd be much of an obstacle to him?"

  "Because I trust you," she said simply and without heat. Jason didn't dare look at her. "If you can tell me for a fact that you'll find this man, that there is no doubt in your mind that you'll eventually catch him, I'll drop it."

  "We will find him. We will catch him."

  "Liar." That was also said without heat, but Jason glared at her in outrage as she turned, walking towards the bedroom. "I will make your life a living hell until you agree, Salvatore." She paused at the threshold, glancing back over her shoulder with a grim expression. "Don't let the reputation fool you—I'm no angel, believe me. When you're ready to do this, let me know."

  She disappeared into the other room, and Jason was left staring indignantly at the closed door.

  "Piece of advice?" Jarden sauntered forward as she spoke. "Don't bother butting heads with her on this. Ani can be as stubborn as a mule when she gets an idea in her head. As it is, I agree with you. It scares me stupid to think of her out there with that piece of Guild trash, but if you don't find an alternative or catch that guy soon, don't think she won't find a way to do it without you."

  "Are you telling me I should lock that door?"

  "Do you really think that'll stop her, Sal? I thought you were smarter than that."

  "She's doing it for us." Cesna was watching him with uncharacteristic soberness, twisting a towel in her hands with restless fingers. "She thinks it's her fault that we're stuck here with her."

  "Guilt can be a powerful motivator, Lieutenant Commander," Rie added without looking at him, sinking with enthralling suppleness into a stretch. "It may be a matter of picking the lesser of two evils."

  "Thanks for the input, ladies, but you don't know—"

  "Yes, we do, Sal. We know exactly what the stakes are and what's at risk. He chased us, remember?" Jarden sauntered into the kitchen, lifting her eyebrows enquiringly over her shoulder. "You staying? I make a killer punch."

  "No, thanks. I've got to be going."

  "Your loss," she murmured with a shrug, and then fixed an intense look on him. "Think about what we said, Sal."

  "I'll be in touch," he evaded, but gave her a suspicious look when she half smiled in response, dark eyes knowing.

  "I'm sure you will."

  Maybe he'd been hanging around Marty too long, he thought as he headed out the door. He was starting to read double meanings and ulterior motives in everyone's conversation.

  But he did think about what they'd said. He mulled it over for most of the morning, trying to decide if the woman really meant to go through with it and if she was truly capable of getting past his people and systems. Finally, he sought his captain out.

  "Her friends seem to think she'd really try to find this guy on her own." In a reversal of roles, he was now the one pacing her office while she sat and watched. "I'm not convinced that she could make it past my people. You've spent more time with her—what do you think?"

  "I've experienced her talent firsthand. She could do it, Jace. If I was her and I didn't have to hurt anyone, I'd do it. A case of the end justifying the means. I understand her position perfectly."

  She arched a brow at him meaningfully, and he grimaced before muttering, "As long as the end turns out the way you want it to."

  "Getting cold feet on me, Jace?" She smiled as though that were an impossibility. "So are you going through with her plan?"

  "Do I have a choice?"

  "There's always a choice."

  He snorted and gave her a disgusted look. "Will you authorize me to put her in restraints?"

  "I see you're going to give in with your usual grace and good will."

  "We'll go tomorrow. I'll brief you on the details at the end of this shift."

  "Very well." She nodded in calm dismissal, and he spun on his heel, marching out of her office and muttering a long string of curses under his breath.

  Chapter 10

  Anya couldn't sit still. She tried to keep a calm demeanor for the sake of her friends, but she was anxious to begin. To be truthful, she was scared out of her wits and wanted to get moving before she changed her mind. Frank had broken the news to them last night that Salvatore was putting her plan into effect, to her utter astonishment.

  "What'd you say to him?" she'd asked her friends, but they'd shrugged and professed innocence. She wasn't sure that she believed them or that the lieutenant commander had bought her bluster so thoroughly. He was more the type to lock her up and throw away the key. She'd been expecting a long, drawn-out battle between them and was more than surprised to find out that he'd given in.

  This morning, Frank had gone over the plan with them. It was fairly simple—Anya would be part of a team that started at one end of the station, while four other teams took flanking positions, on either side of her team and the levels above and below. Anya knew how far away she could detect someone, but was unsure of how close she'd have to be to detect a telepath that didn't want to be found. She was hoping that she could trace him from a good distance and give the teams time to move in.

  It had been several hours since Frank had told her what was going to happen, and the wait was driving her crazy. Her friends didn't help; beyond quiet, they sat and fidgeted almost as much as she did. When the door finally opened, she bounced to her feet as if on a spring, but rocked to a halt when she saw Jason Salvatore enter with Frank. Trying not to gape in surprise, she looked from one to the other in question. She had assumed that the lieutenant commander would run things from his office or some other central location.

  "Ready?" Salvatore asked her, expression as calm as if they were planning a shopping trip and not going after a psycho killer.

  "Are you…coming with us?"

  "Yes. Let's get this thing started."

  Anya ducked her head to hide the enormous surge of relief she felt on hearing that he'd be with her. It didn't make any sense to feel that way—how could one single man make a difference? She was going to be surrounded by guards, but she hadn't had any illusions of safety until now.

  "Be careful out there," Jarden murmured as she slipped an arm around Anya's shoulders in a quick hug.

  "Don't worry—I'm sure the worst thing I'll get is walking blisters." Smiling brightly and projecting reassurance, Anya gave the other two a brief hug before turning to the men. They waited for her to precede them out the door, Frank smiling and Salvatore impassive. Taking a deep breath, Anya headed out into the corridor. She was immediately surrounded by bodies and had a sudden attack of claustrophobia. It eased as the guards settled into a more formal arrangement around her.

  Frank passed her with a wink, but Salvatore stopped and studied her with intent dark eyes. She couldn't feel the usual cloud of anger around him, and his expression was hard to decipher. When she felt him tug at the back of her cloak, she jumped and then stared as a corner of his mouth turned up in a faint smile.

  "Hood up. We don't want people mobbing you for autographs in the middle of this."

  With a hurried flick, Anya pulled the hood over her hair, studying him covertly. He was in a strange mood for a manhunt, relaxed and almost playful. If he was trying to distract her from her bout of nerves, he was doing a pretty decent job. They were on the move before she realized it and only their approach to the perimeter and the end of the safe zone dra
gged her attention away from him.

  There was an overall increase in tension as they left the zone to approach the level jumpers, and Anya had to consciously stop herself from huddling inside her protective barriers. It was her talent that was the key to finding this man, so it only made sense to expand her awareness around them. It was still an effort to relax her defenses and open up. When she did, she tried her best not to impinge on her defenders, but what she did feel was comforting. They were alert, watchful, and ready, but there was no edgy fear in any of them.

  And Salvatore was as calm as he appeared to be. Anya fought the temptation to touch on him more intimately and extended feelers all around them as they crowded into the tubes and shot up several levels. There were people of varying species milling around when they debarked, but none was the telepath, though touching different aliens was like tasting completely new flavors. Trying to keep focused on the task at hand, Anya ignored the aliens as best she could and opened herself up as she hadn't done in many years. The trick was not to become overwhelmed, but she seemed to be doing all right in the less traveled corridors they were taking. Until Salvatore took hold of her arm.

  Anya flinched, pulling her senses back in a rush and trying not to let out a nervous laugh. After having resisted the temptation to peek, it was gratifying to know that he felt so protective of her, and a flush of heat warmed her from head to toe. Containing a pleased smile with an effort, she cleared her throat. "I've been searching for him…"

  "Okay. Have you felt anything yet?"

  So the delicate approach wasn't working. He hadn't even glanced down at her to speak, dark eyes scanning every inch of the corridor as if he expected the telepath to solidify out of the walls. She'd never wanted to kiss a man so badly in her life. "Nothing but you. You're touching me."

  He jerked his hand away, expression clearly appalled. Anya looked down, hoping he wouldn't see the hurt she felt at that rejection.

  "Sorry," he mumbled and quickened his pace so that he was now in front of her.

  She studied his broad back for a moment with a keen sense of regret before unraveling her talent once again. It was more difficult this time because she was fiercely determined not to catch any of the lieutenant commander's emotions, even by accident.