Chapter 24
TWENTY-FOUR
She drifted into sleep a little later, her soft breathing evening out, pulse nice and strong. Reese kept his eyes on the road.
Why didn’t you? Was she serious?
The freeway dipped slightly, rose, dipped again. Once they were out of an orbiting belt of suburban sprawl the strip of pavement would be arrow straight, heading for the horizon.
Lots of time to think while following that line. Lots of time for her to get accustomed to him.
And lots of goddamn time for things to go wrong.
That smell of hers was so, so distracting. He shouldn’t have told her she was emotional noise. Things just fell out of his mouth the wrong way whenever he thought he was finally making some progress. Still, she’d end up falling his way eventually.
She’d have no choice, now that it was survival.
He glanced over, just to make sure. Still there, still in the seat next to him. Breathing deeply, a real sleeping beauty. He checked the rearview, frowned slightly.
It wasn’t time to worry just yet. The cop car three units back was simply pacing traffic, looking for a wrong note. Reese tasted a little adrenaline, exhaled softly. Control of autonomic functions wasn’t perfect, but it was a damn sight better than a civilian’s.
If he could get close enough to Holly, if he didn’t wilt when the time came... well. The thought raised a pleasant hint of sweat at the small of his back, a tightening all through him. Stand down, soldier. You’re not out of the hot zone yet.
Now that he was bathing in it, the smell was intensely comforting. Soothing, even as it revved his hormones up. He checked his speed again, glanced once more at the rearview. Something about the cop car was off.
Sun broke through low-hanging clouds, misty spots of flung road-damp collecting on the windshield’s outer surface. Just when he was beginning to get a little concerned, the cop behind him lit up like a Christmas tree. A cold wave passed down Reese’s entire body.
I haven’t even prepped her for casual interrogation yet. Dammit. Too busy being careful, trying not to upset her even more.
The cruiser leaped forward, a shark in the shoal of suburban traffic... and passed by as Reese hit the turn signal and slowed. John Q. Law whooshed past, and Reese was suddenly aware of a slight groaning sound as his tension communicated itself through the steering wheel.
Don’t ruin the car, idiot.
Still, it was a comfort. Dodged a bullet and found out he was still enhanced. The longer he went without losing function, the better he felt about the whole damn thing.
Of course, would he be able to tell if he was losing the cognitive benefits? Now there was a riddle.
Traffic decreased, another set of city limits left in the dust. The road went through a couple long, shallow curves, then straightened.
By the time Holly made a small murmuring sound, dreaming about something—hope it’s pleasant, honey—he had taken the peel-off to the other south-going interstate he wanted, and even turned the radio on, very low.
Just enough to keep him alert as the scenery changed to rural and the miles slipped away under the tires.
* * *
She woke up just past dawn in a motel over the state line. Immediately, the questions began afresh.
Reese set another plastic bag down carefully on the bed’s foot, hoping to tempt her. More apples, more bagels, more cheese. He’d have to get her something more substantial in a bit.
“I passed out again?” Holly, rumpled and pleasantly flushed, accepted the latte in its white paper cup with a yawn turned into a sigh of gratitude. “Oh, God, you’re an angel. So, who exactly are we running from? I might as well know.”
“Bad people.” He tried not to look at her bare shoulder, pale and fascinating; sometime during the night she’d wriggled out of both T-shirt and bra.
Those baby blues were wide and impossibly pretty—it wasn’t goddamn fair for her to look so good first thing in the morning, for God’s sake. Or to be so cheerful and uncomplaining.
The tired smudges under her eyes were gone.
Of course, she’d gotten some solid rest, even if she was too thin.
Her collarbones stood out, starkly. She pulled the covers higher, a modest little princes, and propped her back on the pillows.
If her expression hadn’t been so plainly unsatisfied it might have been one of his little dreams come true.
As it was, he’d slept on the floor and could tell there was something brewing in her tangled, pretty head.
“Government.” Clearly the drugs were gone, she was right as rain—but so thin. “Those files, they were stamped by the Army. Right? And classified—I was a military brat. I know what that really means.”
Anything from “above your pay grade” to “they’ll chop your fingers off if they find you peeking.
” Reese strangled the urge to sigh. “I’m property of the US Army, yes; technically on loan to the program, codename Division.
At least, that’s what they call it. The medical stuff, the poking and prodding, the experiments.
” He exhaled, sharply, and dug in the bag for an apple.
He’d want a protein load later, but he didn’t want to take her to a restaurant just yet.
It was probably good her father had been in the service—she’d take to him a little easier.
“You should have some breakfast. Checkout time’s coming up. ”
“Is that another euphemism?”
What? “No.” Although if you want me to, I can come up with a few. Starting with that lovely little mouth of yours.
Said mouth pursed a little, and she took a sip of too-hot latte, grimacing slightly. “Are we going to keep living in hotels, or...?”
“There’s a destination. Until then, yeah.” Trying not to think of how delicious she looked wasn’t working.
“Ooh, a destination.” Maybe she didn’t mean to sound sarcastic, but he didn’t think so. “And that would be?”
Not yet, cutie. “Settle down and decide what you want to know first.”
“How about who’s trying to kill me?”
“Who’s trying to kill us.” The sooner he could get her thinking of them as a unit, the better. “There’s a list.”
“Just like Christmas.”
Reese decided that particular brand of irony wasn’t good for either of them.
“Where the present is a bullet in your brain, sure. The Army probably doesn’t want me dead outright, because I’m a significant investment of resources, but orders are orders.
The program? Same thing, probably, unless there was something in my bloodwork or psych evals that changed the ground.
Which leaves the hush-hush, the intelligence agencies that don’t have initials in public.
They’ve got the clout to give the other two orders, and they could have decided to close up shop.
Because agents like me, well. You train us to go dig and nose around, then you find out maybe that wasn’t such a good idea.
Because we do what we’ve been taught.” He took a deep breath, watching as thoughts moved across that transparent, heartbreakingly naive face.
She still smelled mouthwatering, probably because she hadn’t showered yet.
Reese was soaking her up like summer hills during the first good rain.
It’s interesting how the smell changes. Food when I’m hungry, and other things when I’m—
“What did you do? Are you...” Now she gulped, and paled, all that lovely sleep-color fading. “Are you a double agent?”
“I’m a good old red-blooded American, honey. The only thing I did without orders was asking you to coffee.”
That bit of information provoked a flare-up of anger, completely reasonable for a woman in her position. Her eyes nearly sparkled with indignation. “Do you think I somehow—”
“Of course not. If I thought that you’d be dead.”
Silence. Holly stared at him; Reese straightened. The apple carefully cupped in his hand was cold and hard. Well. That was the wrong way to put things.
“Nice to know where I stand,” she said, finally. “Why are you even bothering, Reese? I mean, what did I ever do to you?”
Nothing. It’s all about how you smell. How you’re too patient and kind for your own goddamn good. And how even now, she wasn’t screaming or deconstructing.
Does she have to be so goddamn perfect?
His temper rose, just a little. “I don’t know.” I followed you home. I wanted to knock on your door. “Look, I could have just vanished. I didn’t. I came back to your apartment because I thought whoever was sent to toss it might know where you were.”
“Very chivalrous.” Primly, carefully, she took another sip of latte. “So, if I called the police...”
“You won’t.”
“Why not?” A challenge now, lifting her chin, and he wondered how anyone could have divorced her. She could burn a man down with that look, and he’d thank her through the flames.
“Because that would be stupid, and you’re a lot smarter than you want anyone to know, Holly.”
For some reason that was the wrong thing to say. Or at least, she frowned, and it was time to admit he was in trouble.
Because he wanted to make her smile, and this wasn’t doing it. How stupid was that urge? She didn’t have to be happy; she just had to stay near him, right?
Was he going downhill? Would she have to do the thinking for both of them? A degrade was possible, though he didn’t feel it physically. Without a battery of tests, he couldn’t be sure. There was a margin either way, a really uncomfortable one.
She visibly decided to take another tack. “Then can you tell me where we’re going?”
“South.”
The frown deepened. “Our destination, Reese.”
“No.”
“Why won’t you tell me?”
“Because if I get taken, I don’t want to know where you’ll head for.”
“And if I get ‘taken’ you don’t want me to know. Okay.”
Well, he called her smart, he had to realize she’d figure that out. “You’re not going to get taken.”
“Oh? I’m the weak link here, right? The civilian. The emotional noise.”
I shouldn’t have said that. Another item added to a depressingly long list. “So I’m not going to let them hurt you. If it comes down to you or me, Holly, you’ll run and I’ll hold them.”
That managed to ease the frown, but indignation was replaced by puzzlement. She stared at him like he was speaking Esperanto.
Reese’s back prickled with sudden awareness.
I don’t like how that feels.
Time to move.