Conspiracy Game

CHAPTER 4

Pounding on the door jarred Jack and Briony from their sleep. The gun was already in Jack’s fist and he waved her to the safety of the bathroom.

“Open the door, Bri!” Jebediah yelled. “I’m standing out here with coffee and you’re still asleep. Get a move on.”

“It’s my brother,” Briony said unnecessarily, but she wanted Jack to put the gun away. She deliberately moved in front of him, blocking his sight to the door, pressing her hand to his head to check for fever. She raised her voice. “Just a minute, Jebediah. Have a little patience.”

Jack swept her out of the way with his arm. “Stay to the side of the door when you let him in. Someone could be standing behind him with a gun to his head.”

“He would have warned me,” Briony objected. “Don’t shoot my brother.”

“Stand to the side of the door.” When she remained frowning at him, he clenched his teeth. “Damn it, do what I tell you.”

Briony huffed out a breath just to show him he annoyed her, although it didn’t seem to faze him. She told herself she obeyed to keep Jack from getting upset as she unlocked and opened the door, not because he was downright scary at times.

“Here.” Jebediah handed her a cup of coffee as he leaned in to kiss her cheek. As he did, his gaze jumped beyond her to the bed where Jack lay on his side beneath the sheet, the gun steady in his hand, aimed straight at Jebediah’s heart. “What the hell are you doing here, Norton?” Jebediah jumped to place his body between the gun and Briony.

“I’m so glad you remember Jack, Jeb,” Briony said, trying to be cheerful. “He needs to get out of the country and I thought you might be able to help.”

“Lock the door.” Jack slowly lowered the gun and put his head on the pillow, draping one arm over his eyes.

Briony turned the lock and leaned against the door, blowing on the coffee to keep from having to look at her brother.

“Just how did you meet up with Jack Norton, Briony?” Jebediah demanded.

“I went to the forest on the edge of the city,” she admitted.

“Damn it, Briony.” Jebediah advanced on her threateningly, looming over her shorter figure. “What were you thinking to take a risk like that? Going out into the forest when I told you to stay put.”

“Jebediah.” Jack’s voice cut in, his tone very low, almost purring. “You talk to her like that again around me and I’m going to rip out your heart. We clear on that?”

Briony’s heart jumped at the threat. Coming from anyone else, it would have been melodramatic, but Jack sounded like he meant it. His tone was mild, he hadn’t raised his voice; in fact he hadn’t even sat up, one arm was still slung over his eyes, but something in his ultrarelaxed posture seemed deceptive-as if inside he was coiled like a snake, ready to strike at any moment. She had never in her life met anyone so casual about violence.

Jebediah backed up. “She’s my sister and my responsibility, Jack. She could have been killed.” He almost sounded conciliatory.

“I already raked her over the coals. Once is enough for anyone.” Jack’s tone said to drop it.

Briony sank down onto the edge of the bed and looked up at her brother. “I’m sorry. I needed to breathe. I couldn’t stay here surrounded by all the people… ”

Jack’s arm snaked out fast, his fingers settling around her wrist. “Don’t apologize. You’re not an anchor. You can’t be around so many people and not feel their misery. Your brother ought to know that about you by now.”

“What the hell are you talking about, Jack?” Jebediah demanded. “My sister isn’t any of your business.”

Jack sat up slowly, the sheet falling away to reveal the masses of cuts and burns and carvings on his chest and shoulders.

“God, Jack.” Jebediah swallowed hard, his gaze jumping to Briony’s. “Who got ahold of you? You need a doctor.”

“Briony took care of me.”

Jebediah’s expression hardened. “Briony? What’s going on between you two?”

“Wild sex, Jebediah,” Briony snapped, sarcasm dripping from her voice. “I’m not sixteen, you know, and you’re totally embarrassing me.” She handed the coffee to Jack. “Does he look in shape to perform?”

Jack looked at her over the top of the cup, his eyes meeting hers, a sudden raw intensity turning the deep gray of his eyes to a liquid silver. “I would have accommodated you had you asked.”

A ghost of a smile curved her mouth, but inside her stomach did a funny little flip. He didn’t look as if he was joking. Her womb did an unexpected clench and she had to look away from him.

“That’s not funny, Jack,” Jebediah snapped. “Don’t even think about my sister that way.”

“I’m heading to the bathroom and don’t have much on,” Jack pointed out. “So if you’re on the shy side, you might not want to look.”

She’d already looked. Briony turned toward the window, not wanting either of them to see the color stealing up her neck to her face. “I washed your clothes,” she said, “and hung them up on the shower, but I doubt if they’re dry. Jebediah, would you get him jeans and a shirt?”

Her brother waited until Jack disappeared into the bathroom before crouching down in front of her. “Are you crazy?” he hissed. “Do you have any idea who that man is? Or what he’s capable of doing?”

Even with Jack out of the room, his close proximity kept the anger, shock, and alarm her brother was exuding from hitting her quite as hard as it usually did. “As far as I can see, Jeb, he’s been tortured and needs help. Can you get him out of here?”

“The soldiers in the city are all stirred up. That’s why I brought you coffee rather than have you go out this morning. A few dead bodies were found early this morning, reportedly rebels. The fear is that they’re infiltrating the city, and that’s why the army is on alert. They were searching bars last night.”

“The rebels are looking for Jack. He escaped from their camp.”

“And they want him bad enough to come into Kinshasa, with soldiers on every street corner?” Jebediah scratched his head. “You’re right, we’ll have to get him out of here. They’ll look closely at us because we’re foreigners. I’ll get clothes for him and you keep him out of sight. Is he strong enough to travel?”

“Yes, but I don’t have any idea how. He needs a doctor, though. If you have antibiotics in your travel kit or any of the others do, bring them to me.”

Jebediah nodded. “Are you sure you’re all right, Briony? He didn’t hurt you?”

She shook her head. “He protected me, Jebediah.” She wanted to share with her brother the things Jack had revealed about the “GhostWalkers,” but the fact that she felt no pain around Jack and did with her brothers would bother Jebediah. He’d be hurt by the revelation, and she’d made up her mind a long time ago that she was done hurting her family. They weren’t ever going to know how much she really suffered in their presence.

Jebediah cast a quick glance at the bathroom door. “He must have contacts as well. Has he said anything about what he was doing here? Whether he was supposed to reach an extraction point?”

“He hasn’t said much of anything.”

“That would be Jack. He plays it pretty close to his chest. I’ll get him clothes, keep the door locked.”

Briony followed him and locked the door, setting the coffee aside for Jack when he came out of the shower. She was going to give him another shot of antibiotics the moment he came out, feed him and get more fluids down him. He had to get strong fast and that meant he needed to kick the infection.

The water shut off, and a few minutes later Jack emerged, towel wrapped around his narrow hips. His dark hair was still wet and the raw knife wounds were red and angry-looking scattered over his body. With stitches everywhere, he looked a little like Frankenstein. He had broad shoulders and powerful arms, and was well built, with massive upper body strength and defined muscle. His face was all masculine, tough and weathered with several scars. Other older scars, both from knives and bullets, marred his skin in several places over his body.

“You look a little worse for wear,” Briony observed as she handed him another bottle of water. “Drink this, take another pill, and you can have the entire cup of coffee. I won’t even ask for a sip.”

She looked beautiful to Jack. Sunshine and flowers in a meadow. He tried not to stare at her, taking the water and downing the pill she gave him without question. It hurt just to look at her, and her scent was plain driving him crazy. He turned his back on her and walked to window to check the alley below them. He heard her sharp inhale and knew she was staring at the mess of his back. The front looked worse, but he was alive so he wasn’t complaining.

“I don’t mind sharing the coffee with you.” His voice was gruff-or maybe rusty. He hadn’t really used it in a while. When talking was necessary, Ken had done most of it. Jack hadn’t meant for his statement to come out intimate, but it sounded that way, an invitation. Just being close to her stirred up his body, and his blood pounded in his veins. It was disconcerting to have such a strong reaction to a woman.

“Jack you’re prowling around the room like a caged tiger. Sit down and let me look at your wounds.”

He glanced at her, and his heart did a peculiar somersault, his pulse raced. He pressed one hand to his chest, shocked at the way he couldn’t control his response to her. He sat down because it was easier than trying to walk when it was becoming painful. He realized at once that that was a terrible mistake. She bent over him, her body so close to his he felt her through his skin. Her scent enveloped him until he couldn’t do anything but breathe her in. He was acutely aware of every detail of her body-the curve of her cheek, the length of her lashes, the steady beat of her heart. Every stroke of her fingers, as she applied topical antibiotics, felt like a caress designed to heighten his need of her.

His erection grew thicker and harder, blood pounding, centering in his groin. Her breasts brushed against his arm as she leaned across him to get to a wound on his chest that was particularly inflamed. If his body had hurt before, he couldn’t remember it, with the throbbing ache between his legs. He couldn’t think with the roaring in his head and the taste and feel of her imprinted in him.

Jack gritted his teeth and tried to use his brain. He was a loner, a solitary man who needed no one and kept it that way. Every woman had been someone he could take or leave, and he liked it that way. This woman wasn’t the leaving kind and he knew better than to want her. He had discipline. Control. He heard a noise escape, a growl of need he couldn’t prevent. The sound was as primitive as the way she was making his body feel. Worse, she had somehow gotten under his skin.

His fingers settled around her wrist, and he tugged at her until Briony turned her head and looked at him. Their eyes met and an electrical charge of spine-tingling awareness shot down his spine.

“Did I hurt you?” Her voice caressed his skin, her breath warm and inviting, fingertips stroking back his wet hair. “I’m trying to be gentle, but you have so many deep cuts.”

“Sit on the end of the bed.” He sounded rough even to his own ears, but it didn’t matter. She had to get a distance away from him or he was going to roll her body under his and do all the things playing out in his mind that would shock the hell out of her.

Briony smiled at him. “Do you order everyone around?”

Her smile lit up her face. It did something special to her eyes, turning the deep brown to a melting chocolate. Another growl escaped, and he tried to look away, but she seemed to mesmerize him. “Yes,” he bit out between clenched teeth. “Just do what I say when I say and we’ll be fine, Briony.”

She laughed. The sound sent a shudder of pleasure rippling through his body. He was suddenly very afraid for both of them-for his honor and her innocence. “Have you ever heard of self-preservation? Because I don’t think you have much in that department.”

Briony seated herself on the edge of the bed. “I have plenty, thank you. It’s just that you really do expect everyone to do what you say whenever you command them. You can’t control other people, if they won’t allow it.”

His gaze drifted over her face possessively. “You aren’t one of those other people. I’m trying to do the right thing here and keep my hands off of you.”

Briony’s heart jumped. Her pulse pounded. His scent had been driving her crazy, like some aphrodisiac she couldn’t resist. She’d tried not to let him know, but she’d needed to touch him, needed to be close to him. She tried to tell herself it was because for the first time in her life she could be in the close confines of a room with another human being and not feel the pain of his thoughts and emotions. She moistened her suddenly dry lips and was instantly aware of his burning gaze following the sweep of her tongue along her bottom lip, turning her gesture into something sexual.

“At least you have the sense to be nervous.”

The sound of a fist against the door made her jump. Jack swept out his arm to block her with his body, gun coming up so smoothly she knew it was an automatic gesture.

“Briony!” Jebediah bellowed. “Open up.”

Jack didn’t know whether to be relieved or to curse. “The man has never been quiet,” he said. “Remember to stand to the side of the door.”

“No, he hasn’t,” Briony agreed as she unlocked the door, doing it the way Jack insisted.

Jebediah handed jeans and a shirt to Jack and a syringe to Briony. “Seth also has antibiotics in his medical kit.” He reached into the hall and dragged a tray in. “I brought food as well, figured you hadn’t eaten in a while.”

Jack nodded to him and took the tray.

“You look like shit, Jack,” Jebediah observed. “The rebels weren’t fooling around with you. If they cut you up any more, you’d be in pieces.”

“They skinned Ken.” There was a hard note in Jack’s voice, one of deadly purpose. “They cut up him up from his feet to his head. They’d just gotten started on me. I was lucky.”

Jebediah swore under his breath, and glanced at Briony and caught her blinking back tears. “You’re too soft, Bri,” he snapped. “You always have been. In the real world, shit happens and you have to be tough.”

Jack raised his head, gray eyes glittering with more than menace, with promise of retaliation. “Leave her the hell alone. She’s fine just the way she is.”

Jebediah bit back a retort as he shrugged. “I can call a few people, Jack, see what we can do to get you out of here; otherwise I’ll think of a way to smuggle you out.”

“I can call for an extraction, but I need to call people I trust.”

Jebediah’s jaw tightened. “You think someone set you up?”

“I know I was set up.” The cold gray eyes never left Jebediah’s face, watching with that same deadly intent. “Nice that you happened to be here.” The comment was casual enough, but nothing Jack Norton said was ever that casual.

“Look, Jack, I’m not in the military anymore. I work my family business and I have nothing to do with anyone. I have no ties to the CIA or any other organization. Whatever is going on here, I had nothing to do with. You should know me better than that. I have no reason to turn against my country or my friends.” Deliberately he reminded Jack of their past together.

“Money is a powerful motivator.”

“Don’t accuse my brother of such a terrible thing. We’re risking our lives to help you,” Briony snapped. She swiped his arm with antiseptic and waved the syringe at him.

Jack caught her wrist. “Are you going to stab me with that thing?” For one moment amusement flared in his eyes, and then receded just as quickly.

“Absolutely. Don’t be such a baby. I’ll bet you were all tough when they were cutting you into pieces.”

They didn’t have big brown eyes and look at me like they’re going to cry for me.

There was an intimacy talking telepathically that she couldn’t deny, and his voice held such a caress it sent a shiver through her body. Briony shook her head and gave him the injection. You certainly have a way with women.

He didn’t reply, merely ran his finger down her arm, a soft, light touch with the pad of his finger. Heat surged through her, breasts aching, the throbbing between her legs increasing with sudden urgent need. Her response was so intense she couldn’t move for a moment. She just stood there like a deer caught in the headlights, staring down at him, afraid naked longing would be transparent on her face.

His fingers tangled with hers, as if he was removing the needle from her hand, but he didn’t let go. “I’ll need a way to contact my people, Jebediah. In the meantime, this place isn’t the best defensive position. I don’t have a lot of room to maneuver if they come for me, and they’ll know Briony helped me. I don’t want any trails leading back to you or your family.”

“Bri, take him to the practice arena. It’s about a block from here, Jack. Dressed in my clothes and walking with Bri, you should be fine. I’ll find a way to make the contact.”

“Thank you, Jeb. I appreciate whatever you can do,” Jack acknowledged.

“We’ll get you home safe,” Jebediah promised, raising a hand as he left.

“Eat,” Briony instructed. Jack’s thumb slid back and forth absently over the back of her hand. She wasn’t certain if he was aware of it, but she was. Every feathering caress sent a shiver through her body. She pulled her hand away and backed up a few steps to try to get some breathing room. Every breath she drew into her lungs brought his masculine scent swirling through her veins. “How can you be so broken and yet not even give a single sign you’re in pain?”

His gaze brushed her face, dropped to her mouth, and drifted over her body. He took a bite of toast and chewed thoughtfully. “You perform in front of thousands of people. You’re here, in Kinshasa where people are killed and raped and even tortured. You feel everything they feel. So you tell me, how do you do it?”

“It’s different.” Briony was a little shaken, that he knew-that he could see her life, her sacrifices for her family, so clearly.

“How is it different?”

“I choose to do it for my family. To fit in. To be a part of something.”

“So they’ll love you?”

Her head whipped around, eyes darkening with temper. “Why do you do that? You sound so utterly calm and mild and yet you’re deliberately trying to provoke me.”

“I’m just asking a question.”

“You don’t think my family would love me if I didn’t perform with them?”

“I think they’d love you no matter what, but I don’t think you do.”

Briony turned away from him. “You don’t know anything about me or my life.”

“I’m inside your head. You think I can’t feel your emotions?”

She spun around again, a shocked look on her face. “You can? I can’t feel yours. You said you were an anchor. What does that mean exactly?”

“I draw emotion and energy away from you, act as the filter you don’t have. And yes, you could feel my emotions if I allowed it, and no, I can’t really feel yours unless your guard is down. Sometimes you let me in and other times you don’t. Like now. The door is nailed closed. You don’t want me to know anything about your family.”

“I don’t know you.”

He finished off the food in silence and drank the rest of the bottle of water. Pushing aside the tray, he stood up. Nearly every inch of his body was covered in wounds yet he didn’t even wince.

Briony winced for him. “I have a painkiller. It isn’t very strong, but maybe it would take the edge off.”

“I don’t need it. Try to get my pants to dry. I’ll need those when I leave.” He crossed to the bathroom, but didn’t shut the door, standing just out of sight as he tossed the towel to one side. “If I was going to harm your family, Briony, they’d be dead already.” He opened the door wider as he buttoned up the jeans. Her face had gone pale. “Was that your first dead body?”

Briony clenched her fist. He sounded so casual she wanted to throw something at him. There was nothing casual about taking a life. “No. I found my parents-murdered.” She could barely get the word out.

He drew in his breath. He was feeling her emotions now. Raw pain. A flood of sorrow mixed with guilt and fear. “That’s never going to go away, and I’m telling you that from experience. I found my mother dead. I was nine years old. I can still see every detail. All the blood. The way her face was smashed in. There was so much blood.” He shook his head. “A hell of a thing for either of us to carry around for the rest of our lives, isn’t it?”

His voice hadn’t changed at all, still mild. Low. But she heard a vibration of menace running through her head. He didn’t show emotion at all, but he felt, and the intensity was like a volcano waiting to erupt.

“I think someone killed them because of me.” She told him because he seemed to believe her when no one else took her seriously.

He stopped in the act of pulling the T-shirt over his head. “Why?”

“I don’t know. I heard them arguing with someone out in the stable with the horses. I heard my father say very distinctly they wouldn’t allow Briony to try such a thing, it was too dangerous. I heard shots. Just two shots. I ran as fast as I could, and I’m fast, but when I got there, they were both dead and whoever did it was already gone. Each had one bullet in the head, right here.” She pressed her finger between her eyes. “I never saw who did it, and the murderer had to be close, but I couldn’t find him.” She looked at him. “I couldn’t even smell him.”

“What did they want you to do?”

“I have no idea. I told my brothers, and they went through the messages and paperwork in the trailer, but couldn’t find anything. The police didn’t find their killer.” She looked at him. “How did your mother die?”

Jack pulled the shirt over his head. He’d never told anyone. Never opened that particular wound. He’d had no intention of telling her either. Damn it. There was no stitching that injury closed, and he was going to tell her, but he had no idea why. “She was beat to death. He used his fists and then a baseball bat.”

“Jack.” She wanted to put her arms around him. She felt his emotions now-black rage-ice cold. “I’m so sorry. What a terrible thing. Who would do such a thing?”

“Her husband.” He glanced around the room. “You have a hat in here? Maybe a backpack?”

Why had she thought he didn’t have emotions? The room was shaking, the walls undulating. “Jack.” She reached out to touch him.

Jack knocked her hand away, clearly a reflex action. He was strong, and she felt the impact right through her body. Their eyes met. Held. A muscle jumped in his jaw.

“I’m sorry. Did I hurt you?” He stepped close to her, almost protectively. “I don’t know why I did that.”

“I’m fine.” She pulled a backpack out of the tiny closet to avoid looking at him. She had to blink back tears-not because he’d hurt her, but because his pain was so raw and his rage so deep, she needed to weep for him, because he hadn’t-wouldn’t.

“Damn it. I don’t usually talk this much.”

She handed him the backpack and rummaged through the drawers for a hat.

“You actually put your clothes in the closet?”

She glanced at him, knowing he needed to change the subject. He would never be comfortable with personal revelations. “Of course. What do you do with your clothes?”

He looked around the small room. “I don’t actually stay in hotels much. I’m usually outdoors. But maybe a duffel bag.”

Briony pushed a hat into his hands. “That should do it. Let’s go.” The close confines of the room were really getting to her. Jack seemed to be everywhere. She’d never been so aware of a man.

Jack stopped her before she could open the door. “Wait. Always check. Always.” He set her to one side and stood to the other, his gun in his hand, held flat across his body. “Open it slowly, just a crack.” He crouched low, sweeping the hallway before signaling to her. “You have to think security at all times, Briony. You’re a GhostWalker whether you like it or not, and you’ve got the training.”

“I’m not going to be hunting people in the jungle,” she objected. “I perform in a circus. I fly.”

“Walk on my left side. Stay up with me. If we run into trouble, drop behind me and take off, using my body as a shield while I cover you. Stay away from my gun hand and walk in step.”

She sighed. “Do you have any more rules?”

Again that very faint trace of amusement touched his mouth and faded just as quickly. “You have no idea.”

“I can only imagine.”

“Soldier at seven o’clock. Don’t look at him, look up at me. Stay under my shoulder and put one hand on my waist. Just rest it there. Keep walking and talk to me, smile and laugh the way you would with one of your brothers.”

“I’d be kicking my brother for ordering me around,” Briony said, flashing him a quick smile. “You do know what century you’re living in, don’t you?”

“Doesn’t matter. I know how to stay alive, and when you’re with me, I’m going to make certain you do too.”

“That’s so comforting; thank you, Jack.” She slowed and nodded toward a warehouse. “They set us up to use this building because it’s so tall. Hot as hell, but definitely roomy.”

Jack held open the door and glanced back to see the soldier walking around the corner. He followed Briony inside and stopped, looking up at the trapeze and high wire. “You perform up there?”

She nodded. “I dive through rings of fire and run across the wire without a balance pole. It’s a unique act. I can do a quadruple somersault because I can generate a lot of speed when I fly. Quads just aren’t done.”

He studied her face. “Do you like it?”

She blinked up at him and then kicked the toe of her shoe against the rigging as if testing it. “My family’s been in the circus for generations.”

Jack continued to look at her averted face. “That’s interesting information, but not what I asked. You don’t like it, do you?”

She shrugged. “I have trouble being in a space with so many people. It can be difficult, but I’m used to it.” She sent him a small smile. “It’s actually pretty amazing to be with you. I don’t feel sick or in pain at all.”

“Why do you keep doing it?”

She stretched to catch a dangling rope. “Because it’s my life. It’s what we do.” She went up the rope, her body fluid and graceful, pulling herself up hand over hand, not even using her feet.

Jack caught the rope next to the one she went up and began his ascent, traveling faster to catch up with her. She increased her speed, forcing him to increase his. He heard her soft laughter, a challenge to him, and he passed her, reaching out to catch her rope with one hand, halting her progress.

She wrapped her foot in the rope and grinned at him. “You have such an ego.”

Her mouth was only inches from his, and her tantalizing feminine scent seemed to fill his lungs, until he was breathing her through his entire body. He loved the shape of her mouth and the way her smile lit her eyes.

“You don’t even know.” He leaned into her, dragging her rope even closer. If he was any kind of a man, it had to be said. “You shouldn’t be alone with me.” He didn’t release her. She could drop away from him, but she couldn’t climb any higher.

They stared at each other for what seemed an eternity. “Close your eyes.”

Her eyes widened. She blinked twice, almost as if mesmerized, but then her lashes fluttered and she pulled back, shaking her head. “You can’t kiss me.”

“I’m going to kiss you.”

“I don’t kiss anyone.”

His eyebrow shot up. “Ever?”

“I can’t touch people. I mean, I do my family, but it has-repercussions.”

“You kissed me.”

“That wasn’t a kiss.”

Jack allowed the rope to slip out of his hand, but kept pace with her as she climbed above the highest platform. He watched her swing upside down, perform a slow somersault in the air, and set her feet onto the platform. “You don’t have repercussions when you touch me.” He did the same controlled maneuver so that he stood beside her. He caught her by the shoulders and dragged her close to him, his grip unbreakable.

Without another word he lowered his head to hers. There was no point in arguing-he had to kiss her. He couldn’t think of anything but the shape of her mouth, the soft texture of her lips-and he wanted to taste her. Almost from the first time he’d caught her feminine scent, she’d filled his mind, until he could think of little else.

The moment his lips touched hers, time seemed to stop, to stand still. There was only Briony in his world. Not his shattered body, wracked with pain, not his firm resolve to keep her at an emotional distance-everything that had come before was gone, until there was only this one woman. She tasted of hot spice and honey, an addicting rush that sped through his veins with the speed of a fireball and settled deep inside of him. He would never get her out. He could spend the rest of his life kissing her and it would never be enough.

He caught her face in his hands, holding her still while his mouth moved over hers and his tongue probed deep, wanting more, claiming more. He started with the best of intentions, a light, feathering kiss, tongue tracing her soft lips and teasing until she opened for him, but the moment he sank into the magic of her mouth, soft and warm and so inviting, he couldn’t prevent the groan of hunger, the ravenous need that broke free so that he took complete control of the kiss, using every bit of experience and expertise he had. He didn’t want to give her time to think-only to feel-to want him the way he wanted her.

Something struck the metal frame of the building, and Briony pulled away, swinging her head around, her breath coming in a ragged gasp. “Soldiers?”

“Maybe,” he replied grimly.

“They’re at the door,” she warned. “Quick. Lie down in the exact center. You’re in the shadows up here.”

Jack obeyed, expecting her to lie beside him. Instead, she hurried to the rope, pausing with one hand on it.

“Stay prone. You’re too high; they won’t be able to spot you,” Briony hissed. She eluded his outstretched hand as she caught the rope more firmly and slipped halfway down to the floor. She was still dangling a good fifteen feet in the air as she began to perform a series of slow moves, changing positions with flowing precision, each move requiring tremendous strength and skill.

What the hell do you think you’re doing? You’re driving me out of my mind, woman.

We don’t want them searching the place, and my brothers and I come in to practice all the time. Just stay still. If they find you, they’ll kill me and my brothers. She broke off abruptly, praying he wouldn’t go psycho on her.

Jack bit back any retort. There was no use arguing with her; she was already out in the open. He could kill the rebels, was fully prepared, but it would bring down a hellstorm on them. Damn her. She had no right to take chances with her life-not to protect him or her brothers.

Three men entered the building. Their movements were furtive, as if they were afraid of being seen. They weren’t dressed in uniforms, but they carried themselves like the soldiers she’d seen on every street corner. They stared up at her for a long moment, and something in the way they looked at her made her shiver. She stopped in mid-somersault and sat up, looping her foot through the rope to peer down at them.

Rebels, he warned.

You think? Her mouth was dry, heart pounding. “I’m sorry, you’re not supposed to be in here while we practice.”

“Come down now,” one called to her and pointed to the floor. He let her see the gun inside his jacket.

Briony allowed fear to show on her face. It wasn’t very hard-she was afraid. “I’m telling you, security will be here any minute, you’d better leave.”

He drew the gun and aimed it her. “Get down here.”

Even with the heavy accent, Briony understood. She slowly made her way down the rope. “I’m with the circus act performing at the music festival. My brothers will be here any minute. I have no money… ”

Jack’s heart pounded with fear for her. He slid the gun out of the backpack and laid it on the platform, his finger on the trigger. Sweat beaded on his brow. The rebels made artwork out of raping women as brutally as possible. When he killed them, it would bring not only the rebels down on him, but the soldiers as well.

“Close your mouth,” the rebel snapped, stepping toward Briony. He deliberately loomed over her to intimidate her.

They’re used to everyone being afraid of them.

Briony swallowed hard, stopping herself from nodding in acknowledgment of the information as she watched the shortest of the three shut the door.

“We’re looking for an escaped prisoner.”

Briony put her hand on her hip. “You aren’t soldiers or security, and take a look around, does it look like I’m hanging out with prisoners?”

The leader slapped her hard, knocking her backward. Briony staggered, but kept on her feet. For a moment her ears rang, and then she felt the blast of rage, so deep, so intense it snapped her to attention. Don’t you dare go berserk and shoot him. She breathed deeply to try to calm Jack, knowing he was a heartbeat from killing the man.

Briony put her hand to her stinging face. The big man advanced on her, deliberately aggressive, shoving his gun at one of his partners. He said something in his language she shouldn’t have understood, but it was all too clear. He thought she needed a man to show her who was in charge. Knowing Jack was close by was oddly comforting.

The man caught the front of Briony’s shirt and she caught his wrist, locking on, exerting pressure, staring straight into his eyes. At the same time she pushed hard into his brain, forcing her mind into his. If you touch me, you will die. Leave now. Take these men and go before it’s too late.

He let go of her as if she had burned him, muttering the local word for “witch.” He grabbed his gun from his companion and spun away from her, hurrying out, snapping a command to the others. They followed him out, slamming the door hard.

Briony sagged with relief, covering her face with shaking hands. Jack slid down the rope and strode toward her, his features hard and set, eyes glittering dangerously.