Dark Summer

CHAPTER 19

MARROK'S HAND SLICED DOWN ON Danner's arm, and his gun went flying a few feet away. His next blow sent Danner to his knees.

"You caught me by surprise." Danner stared up into the barrel of the Glock Marrok was pointing at him. "I don't care that you shot Caswell, but I'm angry at myself that I didn't foresee your climbing around those rocks and pouncing. It was an Indian tactic, and you know this canyon so well. I thought I remembered everything about you, but I suppose I always wanted to forget you were a half-breed. I wanted to be a father to you and that would have spoiled everything."

"Bullshit." Marrok hand tightened on the gun. "Make a move, Danner. Stop talking and make a move, so I can blow you to hell."

"Marrok?" Devon called.

"Stay where you are." Marrok's eyes never left Danner.

"Ah, the Brady woman," Danner said. "You really do care something for her. I might have been able to bargain for the dogs after all. Oh well, I really prefer to confront you on even ground."

"In case you haven't noticed, you've lost, Danner. I'll give you one minute to go for that gun on the ground beside you. Then I'll put a bullet between your eyes anyway."

"You're giving me a chance. Considering your background, it's unusual that it bothers you to kill in cold blood."

"My blood isn't cold right now."

"Then it must be our past history together. You haven't won," Danner said softly. "It's only a matter of time until I get my hands on those dogs. I just have to be a little more patient. But I'm very angry with you, Marrok. I'm going to have to punish you."

"Then it will have to be from hell."

"No, I'm not that patient. Do you know, at times I really did wish you were my own son? I was proud of you."

"Liar."

"No, it's true. At first, I only meant to use you, but I found you were almost as strong as I was." He shook his head. "But then I realized that you had streaks of weakness. Paco was one of them." His gaze shifted to Devon. "That bitch is another."

"Shut up about her, Danner."

"You see, she must mean something to you. What a sense of power that gives me. I took your Paco away from you. Shall I take her away, too?"

"Your minute is up." He aimed the gun.

"You're angry. You don't want her to die. Remind me to tell you how that old Indian howled when we-" He suddenly rolled toward Marrok away from the gun on the ground, reaching into his pocket and drawing out a Beretta. He shot upward, and the bullet skimmed Marrok's side even as he dodged. He staggered, then recovered.

But Danner was on his feet and moving in and out of the rocks, keeping off the path. Marrok was after him, gaining on him.

Then he saw the gleam of the moonlight on the barrel of Danner's gun as he lifted it.

Marrok instinctively dove to the ground and got off a quick shot as he rolled behind a boulder.

But Danner's bullet wasn't aimed at him.

"Devon!" Bridget's voice.

Devon.

Oh, God. Marrok lifted his head and stared in agony at Devon and Bridget.

It was like a slow-motion montage in a horror film.

Bridget diving between Devon and Danner's bullet.

Bridget's back arching as the bullet struck her.

"Bridget!" Devon fell to her knees beside the other woman. "Dear God, her chest…" Devon was dragging Bridget behind a boulder. "I've got her, Marrok. I'll take care of her. Get that son of a bitch."

Marrok was already on his feet and darting after Danner.

SHE HAD TO STOP THE bleeding, Devon thought desperately.

The bullet that had struck Bridget had entered her chest and had to be lodged somewhere near her lungs or heart.

Blood. So much blood.

Devon took off her shirt, tore it into strips, and tried to find a place for a pressure point near the wound.

"Devon…" Bridget's eyes were open. "I don't want to die."

"You're not going to die," Devon said shakily. "I'm a great vet. I can handle this wound until we can get you help. But, dammit, you shouldn't have pushed in front of me."

"It was the only way," she whispered. "I had to… change it. You would have died. I knew it. But I have… a chance."

"A good chance. Now stop talking."

"Marrok… tell him he owes me. Tell him I want him to stay with me."

"We'll all stay with you."

"Tell Marrok…" Her eyes closed. "It was the only way…"

Devon froze. Was she dead? No, she was still breathing. She was only unconscious.

She reached for her cell phone. First, call 911 and ask them to send help for Bridget. Then call Walt and get him to bring down the dogs and stay with her.

Then go after Marrok and hope to hell she didn't find him dead.

"YOU'RE FALLING BEHIND, MARROK." Danner was near the top of the canyon. "Come and get me."

"You've reached the end of the path," Marrok said. "And the plateau is two hundred feet below. Where do you think you're going to go from here?"

"Down the way I came," Danner said. "After I kill you, of course."

"You're not going to kill me. This is the end for you, Danner." Marrok moved off the path and into the shadow of the boulders. The moonlight was too bright, and he was a clear target on the path. So was Danner. But he didn't want to shoot the bastard. That would be too easy. He wanted his hands on him, dammit. He wanted to bruise and tear him apart as Danner had killed Paco.

A werewolf would tear him apart.

Why had he thought of Paco's words from so long ago? Because the moon was bright, and he felt as savage as that boy he had been.

"I don't see you, Marrok. Are you trying to sneak behind and ambush me again?"

"I'd have to have wings," Marrok said. "You've run yourself into a blind alley. All I have to do is come and gather you up."

"No, you'll have to wait for your chance. I know how you hate to wait. On the other hand, as I told you, I'm very patient. You'll make a mistake, and I'll take you out."

"You're wrong. I can wait."

Danner chuckled. "But you're thinking about Paco and the Brady woman I killed."

"You didn't kill Devon. You shot Bridget Reardon."

"Did I? What a pity. I'll have to take your word for it. I couldn't stay around to make sure. But no real harm done. There's always tomorrow. Bridget Reardon was an annoyance to me, too."

Marrok could tell Danner had reached the top of the path. He stopped, his gaze searching the area around the boulders at the top. No, Danner must be hiding on the far side of that bank of boulders near the edge of the cliff. Marrok would have a hell of a hard time working his way around so that he could get a clear shot. Maybe if he swung off the cliff below and climbed up that way…

"Give me the dogs, Marrok," Danner coaxed. "It's not too late. I'll share with you. It's what I always wanted to do. Paco just got in the way. He was such a disappointment. Destroying the panacea, then only leaving the dogs for me to use. For a while I wasn't even sure he'd tell me about the dogs. We had to beat him for hours to get him to tell us where he'd hidden the formula."

"Shut up, Danner."

"And then he finally broke down and told us he'd destroyed the formula, and the only thing left of the panacea was in the dogs. It was too weird. Naturally, we had to be sure. We couldn't stop the questioning."

"No, you wouldn't stop."

"It's hurting you, isn't it?"

"It will stop when I kill you. You're on the rocks behind the boulder, aren't you?"

"How did you know that?"

"I have very good hearing. The sound of your voice is different because you're by the cliff edge. And I used to come up there all the time. Do you see all the crevasses between the rocks?"

"Yes."

"Do you hear anything?"

"What are you getting at?"

"A family of rattlesnakes used to live there. The rocks were hot and slick, and they'd lie basking in the sun all afternoon. One time I saw five there."

Silence. "You're lying."

"Why would I try to frighten you?"

"To make me come around the boulder so that you can pick me off."

"That's a possibility."

"It won't work. You'll be picked off yourself. I'm calling my men to come up and get me."

"Go ahead. I believe they're probably being kept a little busy at the moment." He paused. "Did you hear that?"

"What?"

"It's like peas being shaken in a tin cup."

"You're bluffing. I don't hear anything."

Marrok had been bluffing. But there was an edgy note in Danner's voice that convinced him to push it a little harder "Strange. You're so much closer to them."

"I don't hear anything but that damn coyote howling. The same one that's been yapping for the last five minutes."

Coyote. What was he talking about? Marrok didn't hear any howling.

And then he heard the rattle.

"Shit," Danner said.

Marrok heard one shot, two.

He started up the path, keeping low, darting from side to side.

Another shot, ricocheting off the boulders at the top of the cliff.

A howling behind him.

Not a coyote. A dog.

No, two dogs.

Ned and Wiley tore into view and bounded up the path, almost knocking Marrok aside as they passed him.

They were heading for the top of the cliff.

"No!" Marrok yelled. He took off after them at a dead run. "Heel, Ned. Dammit, stop."

Ned ignored him. He and Wiley had already reached the boulders at the top and were running behind them.

More shots.

Oh, God. The son of a bitch had shot them.

He tore around the boulder.

Danner was on the ground, and both dogs were on top of him. Ned was ripping at the arm holding the gun, and Wiley had his teeth in the man's throat.

Danner screamed. He was trying to lift the gun. "Get them off me!"

"Sorry. They don't seem to be paying any attention to me." Marrok carefully aimed to avoid hitting the dogs and put a bullet in Danner's forearm.

Danner screeched, and the gun fell to the ground as the bone shattered.

Marrok felt a fierce surge of satisfaction. "It hurt, didn't it? How many of Paco's bones did you break, Danner?"

Danner was still trying to ward off Ned and Wiley. "Get these dogs off me!"

"They don't like you. Do you think they remember you caging them after you killed Paco?" He walked toward him. "They hate cages."

Suddenly, both dogs were backing off Danner, looking at Marrok.

"I'll kill you all." Danner was raving. "Damn dogs, damn snakes… I'll kill you all." He managed to roll to the side, and his other hand closed on the gun. "And you, Marrok. I'll kill-"

"Good-bye, Danner."

Marrok's bullet shattered his skull.

Dead.

Marrok crossed the distance between them and stood looking down at Danner.

"I'm sorry it took a long time, Paco," he whispered. "I've killed the bastard. Now you send him to hell, okay?"

Ned and Wiley were not even staring at the man they'd been savaging only minutes before. The rage and ferocity were suddenly gone from their demeanor. They sat down beside Marrok and looked up at him as if asking for instructions.

"It's over. It's okay now," Marrok said. "You did well." Though how and why they had suddenly appeared he had no idea. He'd worry about that later. "Let's go down and see about Bridget."

HE MET DEVON WHEN HE was halfway down the canyon.

She stopped on the path and drew a deep breath as Ned and Wiley ran to greet her. "Thank God. I heard the shots. Danner?"

"Dead. How is Bridget?"

"Bad. Still alive-911 sent an air ambulance to pick her up. They should be here any minute. I left Walt with her." She looked down at the dogs. "He was worried about Ned and Wiley. Sid said they broke away from the other dogs and took off. He was going after them when I called him. Sid said it was weird. They both had their heads cocked as if they were listening to something. Then they bolted."

I don't hear anything but that damn coyote howling, Danner had said.

The phantom coyote that Marrok had not been able to hear.

The rattlesnakes that had distracted Danner enough to keep him from killing the attacking dogs.

Marrok had thought he'd heard a rattle, but he'd seen no sign of the snakes Danner had been muttering about before his death. Could they have slid back into the crevices? Or had it all been Danner's imagination, aided by the thought Marrok's words had planted? He didn't find the latter possibility viable. Danner was too cool to be drawn, and the bastard's voice had been genuinely terrified.

Paco?

He took Devon's hand and started striding quickly down the hill. "Who knows? Maybe they were listening to something."

THE AIR AMBULANCE WAS LANDING when they reached the plateau.

Walt was standing by Bridget's stretcher with Nika and Addie by his side. He looked up at Devon soberly. "She's not going to make it. They're taking her to the hospital in Tucson, but she'll be lucky if she's not DOA when she gets there."

Devon's heart plummeted. "No, I promised her she'd live. She's got to live. For God's sake, I'd be dead if it wasn't for her."

Marrok's comforting hand was on her arm. "She'll live," he said. "We're going to do everything we can, Devon."

"She said she didn't want to die," Devon said jerkily. "She said to tell you to stay with her, that you owed her."

"She didn't have to remind me of that." His hand tightened on Devon's arm. "I know how much I owe her. And you're damn right I'll stay with her. I'll bring Ned and Wiley with me. If I need them, I'll send for Nika and Addie, too."

"You may have a few problems getting the hospital to let you do that," Walt said. "They have rules."

"That can be broken. Get Sarah Logan on the phone and have her start pulling strings. I want clearance by the time we reach the hospital." He started for the plane that had just landed. "And I'll take care of getting the pi lot to accept them myself right now. They have to be on the plane, close to her."

Devon watched him stride across the plateau with Wiley at his heels. She began to feel the faintest flicker of hope. Marrok had said Bridget would live and he had been with Ned on many missions when the Lab had managed to cure the incurable.

Walt was dialing his cell. "Don't get your hopes up," he said gently. "She's bad, Devon."

"I know that." She looked down at Bridget. She had known her for such a short time, and their togetherness had been fraught with such a multitude of emotions-suspicion, anger, admiration, amazement. They had not really had a chance to become friends. Yet this woman may have given her life for Devon. "But she said she had a chance. We've got to see that she gets it." She took Bridget's hand. Lord, it was cold and limp. "We're here, Bridget," she whispered. "I don't know how it works, but we'll stay with you. We'll bring you through this."

No response.

Ned was whimpering in distress. He moved close to Bridget, his nose gently pushing against her cheek as if trying to wake her.

"That's right, try to help her, Ned," Devon said unevenly.

But Sarah Logan had said that not all the patients had gotten better after the hospital visits with the dogs of summer. Two had still died.

She couldn't think about that now. She had to hold on to this slim hope.

Marrok and two white-coated men were coming toward them, and her hand instinctively tightened on Bridget's. "Here we go. Hold on, Bridget. That's all you have to do. Hold on…"

DARKNESS.

Was this death? Bridget wondered. Wasn't there supposed to be a tunnel and some kind of light? There was no light, only this thick darkness.

She should be dead. She had felt herself slipping away, but someone had brought her back. But she wasn't sure that she could stay…

"Don't be stupid. Of course, you can stay. That's what this is all about."

Jordan.

She must be alive. Jordan wasn't dead.

"You're bloody right I'm not. Can you see me?"

No, she could only hear him. The darkness was too intense.

"I'm on my way to you. But you have help there. They kept their promise. You made it through the operation. All you have to do is keep fighting. You've never had trouble doing that." He paused. "Why the hell did you jump out in front of her?"

Make a difference. What's the use of being able to see it unless you can make a difference?

"The difference could have been your death instead of hers."

Make a difference.

"When this is over, we're going to have a little discussion. I never sent you there to be a human sacrifice."

You sent me here because it was important, because it could make the biggest difference of all. You were right to send me.

"Not if you die on me," Jordan said. "So that's not going to happen. Get your butt in gear and keep fighting."

Stop ordering me around. I'll do it for myself, not so that you won't feel guilty.

Silence. "Guilty? I never feel guilty."

Go away. I don't want to argue with you. I have to concentrate on keeping alive.

"I'll be there soon."

She could feel him fading away. Yes, come soon, Jordan. She always felt safer when Jordan was with her. From the time she was a teenager, nothing was quite as bad if Jordan was there.

In the distance beyond the darkness, she could hear a dog whimpering. Ned?

And someone was holding her hand. It was a strong, masculine, firm grip.

Marrok.

Yes, they were keeping their promise.

Fight.

"HOW IS she?"

Devon looked up to see Janet standing in the doorway of the waiting room. "I don't know. They managed to get the bullet out without too much damage to her vital organs. But that doesn't mean she'll make it. The doctors say she shouldn't have lived this long. Why are you here? Bridget isn't one of your favorite people."

"No." Janet frowned. "But I don't want her to die. Maybe she's not as bad as I thought. Walt said she took that bullet for you."

"Yes, she did."

"Then she's probably… okay." Janet put the overnight case she was carry ing on a chair by the door. "I brought some of your clothes and stuff. Walt didn't think you'd be coming back to the ranch for a while."

"Are you back at the ranch?"

Janet nodded. "Marrok sent word that everyone should go home. Didn't he tell you?"

"No, he's been pretty busy. We've been with Bridget since she got out of surgery." She nodded at the coffee machine. "I just came out to get coffee."

"Is there anything I can do?"

Devon shook her head. "Thank you. Just go back to the ranch and make sure the other dogs are safe."

"Well, that's kinda what I wanted to talk to you about," she said awkwardly. "Sid wants to know if Wiley's okay."

"He's fine. He and Ned have been camped out in Bridget's room." She studied Janet's expression. "Did Sid tell you about the shi'i'go?"

"Yeah, sounds pretty nuts to me." She moistened her lips. "But Sid ain't stupid. So maybe there's something to it."

"There's something to it," Devon said. "And I hope we'll have some concrete proof soon." She rubbed the back of her neck. Lord, she was tired. "Tell Sid we'll bring Wiley back to the ranch as soon as we can."

"That's what I told him. I said you'd take good care of Wiley, but he's crazy about that mutt."

"It sounds like you're getting along pretty well with Sid."

"He's not a bad guy. He just had to be put in his place at first. We understand each other."

Yes, Devon could see how they would come to an understanding. They were two loners, each of whose rough, hard pasts would strike an answering note in the other. "And how is Gracie?"

"Fine. Follows me around, getting in my way. Sid's been taking her for walks. She puts up with him, but she likes me better."

"I'm sure she does," Devon said gently. "She's always loved you, Janet."

"Yeah, I guess so." She shifted uneasily. "I'll stay if you need me. You know that."

"I know." She walked across the room and put her arms around Janet. The other woman stiffened but didn't step back. So prickly, so afraid to show emotion. "I'll need you more when we get Bridget straightened out." She released her. "Good-bye, Janet."

A flush turned Janet's cheeks ruddy. "You don't have to get all mushy." She turned away. "Me and Sid will take care of things. Don't you worry."

Devon watched her walk down the hall before she turned back to the coffee machine.

Not worry? Maybe not about the ranch or the other dogs, but Bridget was an unending anxiety. It was over twelve hours since they had arrived at the hospital, and she couldn't see any difference in her condition. What frightened her was that the medical staff couldn't either. They were astonished that she was still alive and refused to encourage hope.

But Bridget had survived this long. She wouldn't give up, dammit.

Devon took the two cups of coffee and headed back toward Bridget's room.

AS DEVON ENTERED THE ROOM, Wiley's tail thumped the floor from where he was curled up in the corner.

Marrok looked up from where he was sitting in the visitor's chair by Bridget's bed. "You were gone a long time."

"Janet came by. I talked to her for a while." She crossed the room and handed him his coffee, her gaze on Bridget's face. "Does she have a little more color, or is that my imagination?"

Marrok shrugged. "I don't know. I can't tell the difference." His hand reached down to pat Ned's head. "I'm not going to lie to you. I told you that I thought she'd make it. But sometimes it doesn't happen right away. She was too close to death, and because it was violent, there's trauma that's difficult to overcome. It's easier if it's only an illness that doesn't throw the body into shock."

"Sarah Logan told me that Addie couldn't cure everyone."

Marrok nodded. "All I can say is that I've never taken Ned on any mission where he's failed. Does that help?"

"Yes." She glanced back at Bridget. "And there is more color. I won't believe anything else."

He smiled. "And if there isn't, you'll will it to happen." He reached out and squeezed Bridget's hand. "Do you hear that, Bridget? Now do what she tells you." His smile faded, and his gaze narrowed on Bridget's face. "I think I felt her hand move."

Devon inhaled sharply. "Should I call someone?"

"No, it's gone now. But it was there-" His phone rang, and he picked up. "Marrok." He listened for a moment. "No, I don't care who you are. She's not in a condition to receive visitors. Call tomorrow and we'll-" He frowned. "Arrogant bastard. He hung up on me."

"Who hung up?"

"Some friend of Bridget's. Jordan Radkin. He said he was coming to see her."

"Where was he?"

"Downstairs. He said he'd just flown in from London. Well, he can just turn his tail around and fly back. I won't have him bothering her."

Devon was puzzled. "How did this Radkin even know she was hurt?"

"How do I know? I'll ask the son of a bitch when I see him."

"Before or after you kick him out?" His attitude reminded her of that first confrontation between Marrok and Sid Cadow. Evidently, this Jordan Radkin had stirred the same male antagonism. "Let me talk to him."

Marrok slanted her a glance. "Are you trying to save me from myself?"

"I'm curious, and I don't want you rude to someone Bridget may care about. She didn't impress me as having that many people close to her."

"Quite right."

They turned to see a tall, broad-shouldered man standing in the doorway. "I'm Jordan Radkin." He came toward the bed. "And since Bridget has limited support on the personal front, I have to make up for it in determination." He looked down at Bridget. "She almost bought it, didn't she?"

His voice was cool, Devon thought. Everything about him was cool and contained. He was somewhere in his thirties with a dark complexion, chestnut-colored hair, and gray eyes that glittered with alertness and intelligence. "You don't seem upset. She could still die."

He shook his head. "You have no idea how upset I was when it first happened. But my being upset would do her no good right now. Emotion gets in the way."

"Tomorrow would be a better day for a visit," Marrok said tersely. "I believe I mentioned that."

"I believe you did. But Bridget will be better off with me to help her. Besides being distant relations, we've been together a long time."

"Not for the last three years," Marrok said coolly.

Radkin smiled faintly. "Yes, even the last three years, Marrok." He turned to Devon. "And I appreciate your trying to keep the peace between me and Marrok, but it's time we came face-to-face." He took Bridget's hand and said to her softly, "Rest time is over. Time to come back to us now."

"That's not going to do any good. She's been unconscious for-"

But Bridget was opening her eyes!

"That's a good girl," Radkin said. "Now don't try to talk. That might be too-"

"Screw you," Bridget whispered.

Radkin chuckled. "I thought you'd object to that hint of condescension. Have I told you how much I missed that scalding tongue of yours?"

"I've got to call the nurse and tell them you're awake," Devon said as she headed for the call button. "He's right, don't talk, Bridget."

"No hurry now," Radkin said. "Marrok's shi'i'go has done its work. She'll recover very quickly now. I just had to be here and jar her a bit. Sometimes she actually pays attention to me. Oh, for the old days when she looked upon me as a god."

Bridget snorted.

Radkin's brows rose. "I believe that disgusting sound might take more effort than words." He squeezed Bridget's hand. "So I'll leave and let you pamper yourself. I'll be back tomorrow. I have a few things to do." He turned to Marrok. "It wouldn't hurt for you to stay with her for the rest of the day. It's not necessary, but it may help a little."

"I wasn't planning on leaving her. If I were, I wouldn't give a damn what you think."

Radkin smiled. "You're just as Bridget described you. Only she said that you'd made progress and were ready. I'm not at all sure she's right. She has a tendency to become involved and lose her perspective." He turned away and wheeled to face Marrok. "By the way, you won't have any problem with Danner's death. I called on a few friends with MI6, and they sent a team out to do cleanup. The body will be found in an alley behind a Las Vegas casino. An obvious theft and assault."

"Why would you do that?" Marrok asked.

"We'll discuss it tomorrow." He headed for the door, then stopped as he saw Wiley sitting in the corner. "Well, what have we here?" He squatted before the German shepherd. Wiley tensed and gazed at him warily. He bared his teeth. "Shh, it doesn't have to be this way. Let it go, Wiley." He put his hand out and gently touched the dog's head. "Let it all go…"

Wiley froze, his eyes closing. Then he slowly sank to the floor, the tension leaving his big body.

"Good," Radkin said. "Now remember…" He got to his feet. "I'll see you tomorrow, Bridget." He left the room.

Devon was staring at Wiley, who was still lying in the same position and appeared mellower than she had ever seen him. "What the hell did he do to him?"

"Wiley… difficult," Bridget whispered. "Jordan likes… difficult."

"I've seen you have that effect on animals." Marrok was staring after Radkin. "But not that-"

"Powerful," Bridget said. "I'm not that powerful. I never wanted to be. Not like him. And I was right about you, Marrok. He knows I am. It's time…" The nurse was hurrying into the room, and she made a face. "Stay close. They may kill me trying to find out why I'm getting well."

Marrok reached down and touched Ned's head. "We won't leave you. You told Devon I owed you. You couldn't be more right." He stood up. "But I'll move out into the hall for a few minutes." He paused. "Just who is Radkin to you?"

She smiled. "All kinds of things. He's right; I was dazzled by him when he first came to me. It took a while for me to get over that. Since then he's been teacher, cousin, friend, thorn in my side, bane of my existence." She paused. "And it was Jordan who sent me to you, Marrok."

He frowned. "No, it was Chad Lincoln. I came after you after he recommended you."

"As Jordan said, he has friends at MI6. He pulled strings, and they told Lincoln what to do."

"What's all this about? I don't-"

"You'll have to leave, Mr. Marrok," the nurse said. "The doctor will be here any minute, and I have tests to make before he gets here."

"I told you," Bridget murmured. "Stay close, Marrok."