Chapter 22
“She all right?” Henderson asked, low and worried. “She looks dazed.”
“He hit her hard. You know how dangerous he is to empaths.” Del shrugged, rolling his shoulders.
As soon as she left the room Zed withdrawal settled deep in his bones, twisting.
The leftover wounds from his run-in with Carson also twinged, a mounting song of discomfort. He set his jaw, ignored the feeling.
She needed a little solitude at the moment, time for her violated psyche to put itself back together.
He would only make the situation unbearable by nagging.
The mental walls between them had slammed up, tinted a deep, dark red with pain and guilt, and he’d noted the shaking in her hands.
She needed rest and maybe a little good, old-fashioned therapy the moment they had both recovered a bit.
“She’ll be okay soon as she gets some more sleep, I think. ”
“What if she’s not?” The old man’s steely gaze met Del’s.
“Then I’ll take care of it.” He didn’t bother disguising the possessiveness.
“Take her up to Calgary, maybe, or go start causing trouble in Europe. Get her out of the country, somewhere nice and isolated where she won’t worry so much.
She’s been scared half to death, old man, and withdrawing from everyone as well.
” He took a firmer grip on his temper. He didn’t need to start shouting at Henderson.
It was just that she had gotten so damn good at hiding what she felt, keeping that brave face on.
It was frustrating, thinking about the pain behind that serene facade.
Even more to think of how other people must have taken it for granted.
She was so powerful and outwardly calm it was easy to assume she was all right, while she bled to death internally.
“I know.” Henderson took his glasses off, rubbed his eagle eyes.
Hard. “I’m sorry, Del. She’s so fucking talented it’s hard to know how to approach her.
She does things no other psion I’ve seen can.
And if I try to tell her to back down, to take a break, she just stares at me with those big eyes.
It’s like she feels personally responsible for every goddamn thing. ”
“What, like you feel responsible for every damn thing?” The attempt at humor was met with a wan smile. Let’s leave it alone, General. If I think about this much more I’m going to get angry, and I don’t want to. “What’s the situation like here?”
Henderson took the change of subject gracefully.
“Good as it can be. We have plenty of liquid assets and are three-quarters done with the infrastructure. Yoshi’s been working around the clock with Cath and the new guy, Lewis—Rowan got him out of a dicey situation, and he’s been one hell of an asset.
Anyway, we’ve pulled everyone back in to consolidate.
The next few weeks are critical, but we’ve got every fail-safe I can think of—and a few that were Rowan’s ideas—in place.
The newbies are undergoing intensive training; most of them have come through wonderfully.
The teams are concentrating, shaking free of Sig nets, and arriving one at a time.
There are a few out causing trouble, which is good for us.
They’ll retreat once they’ve finished a shift, then we’ll send a few more out. ”
“You’ve been busy.”
The old man shrugged, his rig creaking. Henderson was the only person Del knew—other than himself—who carried his knives everywhere. “Well, it’s not like cooling my heels in an Italian villa, but it’ll do. Listen, I want you to take a look at these—”
From that point on it was natural. He’d worked with Henderson for so long it was easy to catch the man’s train of thought, and Del was suddenly grateful to be back where he belonged.
Funny, but before Rowan he’d never considered that he belonged anywhere.
But wherever she was felt like home, and now more than ever—poring over maps, coming up with scenarios, crosschecking protocols and procedures.
He didn’t notice darkness had fallen until he heard a faint sound and looked up from a stack of printouts, catching Yoshi slumped over his keyboard, asleep.
Henderson, in a captain’s chair behind a folding table that served as a desk, rubbed at his eyes once more. The sound came again, a tentative knock.
Eleanor cleared her throat. She stood framed in the door, a beanpole of a woman with messy dark hair. Her rig was supple and well-oiled; she favored Sig Sauers instead of Glocks. Del was relieved to see she’d escaped the ruin of the old Headquarters too.
“Hey, Del.” She seemed unsurprised to see him. “Henderson, is Rowan around? I heard she’d come in, and Bobby has a new trick he wants to show her. He’d love to see her.”
Del blinked. He reached automatically, meeting only the same hard mental walls, curiously thinned and brittle.
“She came in with Del,” Henderson said. The words met a yawn halfway. “She hasn’t checked in with you yet? She was pretty hashed.”
Delgado pushed himself up. He touched the mental walls, probing delicately. Ro? Angel, I need to talk to you.
No answer. Just a strange sensation, as if his chest was suddenly empty.
Adrenaline spiked through his blood, laid copper against his tongue. Stark, uncomprehending fear smashed through him.
Rowan! He sent the call along the private path between her mind and his, the deepest level of their shared bodies. The link reverberated with emptiness.
Henderson glanced at him. Eleanor had gone suddenly pale under her dark curly hair. Delgado had no idea what was on his face in that moment, but was sure it wasn’t kind or pretty.
“Oh, God,” he heard himself say. His eyes burned with something too deep and hot to be tears. Everything clicked into place: her distraction, the waves of pain and guilt, the dazed look on her.
A fucking compulsion. How could I be so goddamn blind?
“What?” Henderson’s capable hands curled around the edge of the table, as if needing the anchor. Yoshi stirred, his cheek pressed against the edge of his keyboard. The monitors flashed. “Delgado?” The sharp bite of command was in the General’s old, gruff voice, but Del was past caring.
He half-whirled, as if Rowan might be standing behind him, closed his eyes, and fought for control. The old man’s chair squeaked as he rose, slowly.
He probably thinks I’m going to go postal.
Funny, I just might. Silence ticked by as he wrestled internally. Finally, Delgado could speak.
“Carson buried a compulsion in her.” He forced the words out through his teeth.
“Of course. The fucker probably knew he couldn’t take her from me, so he cracked through the first few layers of her shielding and planted a compulsion.
Goddammit.” How could I be so stupid? I saw it, all the signs were there.
“What compulsion, precisely?”
“Isn’t it obvious?” Del opened his eyes; Henderson took a step back, sending his chair over to smack on the wooden floor as if he suspected Del was going to lunge.
Yoshi groaned, probably catching the tension on a subsconsicous level.
“She’s heading to parts unknown, and she’s going to get picked up by Sigma, pretty as you please. God-fucking-dam-mit.”
“What’s going on?” Yoshi stretched, dislodging the comm, which made a small tinkling sound as it hit the desk. “Not another crisis. Please.” His black hair stood up in wildly-gelled spikes.
“No worries.” Del’s bootheel ground as he turned; Eleanor hurriedly cleared the doorway, obviously not wanting to be in his way. “I’ll bring her in.”
“Del—” Henderson began.
Fuck off. She’s mine, she belongs to me, I’m going to bring her in.
“No, Daniel. I’m the best bet. Sigma won’t catch me again, and I stand the best chance of catching her.
Jumpoff’s in ten minutes. I’m taking a car and some gear, and I’m going to bring her in if I have to slaughter every fucking Sig in the western hemisphere to do it. ”
“Del—”
Don’t you understand? Have I not made it clear enough? “No.” Just one clipped harsh word, but it stopped Henderson in his tracks.
Eleanor’s hand covered her mouth, her eyes wide and haunted. Christ, he wanted to say, quit looking like that. I’ll get her back.
He was halfway to the door before Henderson spoke again. “How are you going to find her?” The old man sounded weary.
“I trained her,” he tossed over his shoulder, gathering speed. “And besides, I’ve got to find her. She’d find me.”
Goddammit, why didn’t I see it? All the signs—unconscious a long time for the compulsion to sink in and replicate to set up a ricochet, the shaking, the guilt, and the uneasiness.
She was vulnerable—not enough sleep, worrying herself sick thinking I didn’t want her, thinking she’s to blame for everything.
“Del? Delgado!” Henderson actually yelled, but he was running, not bothering to pace himself. She had several hours’ worth of jump, and it was up to him to narrow that gap and find her before the compulsion brought her into a Sigma net.
Hang on, angel. I’m coming. And when I find you I damn sure won’t make the same mistake again. I’m not going to let go of you until you’re safe—and until you’re exactly sure of how much you mean to me.
Del grabbed a map, his duffel, and his kitbag; Yoshi showed up right behind him with a roll of cash and an emergency identity.
“Here.” He shoved the documents into Del’s hands. “Henderson’s climbing the walls. He’s got me running chatscans and everything.”
“Thanks.” Del stuffed it higgledy-piggledy into his kitbag. “Car?”
“Take the black one.” Yosh dangled the keys. His dark eyes were wide and anxious. “She hasn’t been herself lately. Too wound up. Bad case of combat jitters.” Del snatched the keys; Yoshi didn’t flinch. “There’s something you should know.”
“If it’s more of your goddamn Sun Tzu, can it. I’ve got a serious—”
Yoshi grabbed Delgado’s arm. “Listen to me, Delgado. Justin. Listen.”
The demand was so utterly unlike Yoshi that it penetrated the fog of worry and rising anger. Delgado took a deep breath. When he opened his eyes, Yoshi’s hand fell away.
“I’m listening,” he muttered through clenched teeth. “Make it quick.”
“She loves you.” Yoshi’s mouth was a straight line. “Don’t hurt her.”
That anyone could even think he would harm her hit him like a fist to the gut. Christ, she was the only thing he cared about.
“Hurt her? I’m going to bring her back.” No matter what I have to do. Goddammit, I’m an idiot—I should have seen it, should have seen the warning signs. Compulsion is Carson’s goddamn motherfucking specialty. I should have known.
“Be gentle.” Yoshi now, amazingly, looked more worried, eyebrows drawing together, mouth turning down hard.
“Gentle as I can. But if they so much as touch her I’m going to—” Del’s pulse spiked again, he had difficulty bringing it under control. So much to do. So little time.
“Go.” Yoshi let go of him. “Think about it. She loves you.”
“Fine, thank you.” I don’t know if you’re right about that, kid. Someone like her isn’t going to love someone like me. It’s ridiculous. “Ammo?”
Yoshi handed over five mags; Del stashed them in his kitbag.
“Call in if you need directions to a cache.” the other operative said. “Keep in contact. We’ll send as many teams as we can—”
“No, you’ll just get them killed.” Del slung the bag across his body, picked up his duffel, stepped past. “Tell Henderson not to worry. I’ll bring her back safe and sound.”
The other man didn’t reply. Del hoped he was praying. He barely saw the rest of Headquarters on his way down to the garage. He was too busy trying to breathe through the massive ball of panic in his chest.
Just stay alive, angel. Stay alive until I can get to you.