Chapter Twenty-three 13 page

Emory laughed. “I most certainly intend to touch you.” Attentive to the desperate tenor of Dana’s voice, Emory shifted her fingers away from the one spot she most wanted to caress. Dana was hard and swollen and more beautiful than she had ever imagined. She trailed her fingertips up and down the crease between Dana’s thigh and her center, inches from where Dana pulsed and trembled. Emory wanted her in ways she hadn’t thought possible. Fiercely, wildly. Pressing her palms to the insides of Dana’s thighs, she pushed, spreading her legs, opening her. Dana groaned and lifted her pelvis, beckoning.

Ever so carefully, Emory brushed a kiss over Dana’s clitoris.

Dana’s body spasmed. “I won’t last.”

“Can you make it to ten?”

“I don’t think so,” Dana gasped. “I almost came then.”

“It’s all right, if you have to.” Emory kissed her again, a little more firmly, but still fleetingly. Dana clutched her shoulder, and Emory sensed that Dana wanted to force her mouth down on her. She loved Dana’s restraint almost as much as she wanted to break it. She licked her, and Dana tried to twist away. She held her legs more firmly and licked her again.

“God,” Dana cried out, her hips rising. “You have to make me come. Emory, please.”

“Mmm.” Nearly blind, barely breathing, Emory sealed her mouth around Dana’s hard length and slowly, tenderly sucked. Dana jerked against her mouth and grew even harder between her lips.

“Oh, yes.” Dana’s voice broke.

Emory concentrated intently, imprinting every tremor, every cry, every twist and turn as Dana writhed in the throes of her orgasm. Doors long shuttered flew open, barriers fell, defenses shattered. There would never be another first time for her, for them. There would never be another moment as life altering as this. Emory knew victory as surely as she felt her every vulnerability laid bare. When Dana finally arched away, tears streaked Emory’s cheeks. She pressed her face to Dana’s quivering abdomen. “Thank you.”

“Emory,” Dana whispered, feeling drugged. She wanted to sit up, she wanted to pull Emory into her arms, she wanted to give her pleasure for pleasure. She could barely lift her hand and just managed to stroke Emory’s face. She felt the wetness on her fingertips and her heart clenched. “What is it? Emory, what’s wrong?”

Emory shook her head. “Nothing is wrong. Everything is right.”

“I want to hold you, but I can’t move. Help me.”

Laughing softly, Emory moved farther up the bed and stretched out on top of Dana again. Their legs entwined, their breasts cleaved, their mouths fused. Emory burned. Her skin, her muscles, her clitoris. Flame. She needed to be touched. Desperately. “Dana,” she gasped, not knowing the words. “I need you.”

Dana’s strength returned in a rush and she rolled Emory over, following until she was poised above her on her knees and arm. She trailed her fingers between Emory’s legs. “Here?”

Emory’s eyes opened wide and she clamped her hand over Dana’s, pressing her fingers against the places that ached. “Yes. There. There. Oh God. Touch me, Dana, touch me. I want… I need…”

“I know.” Dana lowered her head to Emory’s breast and took her nipple into her mouth. She sucked, playing her tongue over the smooth, firm tip while she traced one finger around the echoing hardness below. Emory’s clitoris strained, ready to burst. She pressed, circled. “Here?”

“Yes,” Emory choked. “Yes.”

Dana kissed her way up the center of Emory’s throat to her mouth, circling her fingers faster between Emory’s legs.

“Dana,” Emory breathed in wonder. “Oh Dana.”

Dana kissed her as she cried out, drinking her pleasure as she poured out her passion. Emory’s cries dwindled to soft sighs, but her clitoris remained full and throbbing. Dana slid inside her, felt her muscles tighten, and stroked the still-hard prominence with her thumb. Emory’s thighs tensed.

“I…Dana…oh,” Emory stuttered as she pushed down against Emory’s hand. “I’m going to come again.”

Dana rubbed her cheek over Emory’s breast, feeling her heart hammer against her ribs. “I know. Let it go. Let it go, baby.”

“Oh God,” Emory cried.

When Emory quieted, Dana eased onto her side and pulled Emory close, her fingers still inside her. “Okay now?”

Emory snuggled her face in the curve of Dana’s neck, her arms draped bonelessly over Dana’s body. “I’ve never felt anything like that in my life.”

“Good start, then.”

“Oh, very good start. Perfect.” Emory kissed Dana’s throat. “I’m sorry. I think I’m falling asleep.”

“That’s okay.”

“Don’t you need to…” Emory faltered, trying hard to think but her mind was so hazy. “Are you excited? Do you need…”

Dana kissed Emory’s forehead. “Yes. I am. But it will keep.”

“For how long?”

Dana laughed. “Until the next time.”

“’S wonderful,” Emory muttered. “Wonderful.”

“Go to sleep now.” Dana rested her cheek against Emory’s head. She didn’t want to go to sleep. She didn’t want to waste a moment of this night. This night that, no matter what followed, marked the beginning of the rest of her life.

Chapter Twenty-two

Monday

Cam rolled over, trying not to wake Blair, and checked the bedside clock. The alarm was due to go off in two minutes. Blair slept with her back to Cam’s front, her hips cushioned in the curve of Cam’s pelvis. Cam shifted closer and wrapped her arm around Blair’s midsection. When she kissed the side of Blair’s neck, Blair murmured and drew Cam’s hand to her breast. The nipple hardened and Blair sighed.

“Baby,” Cam murmured, “we need to get up.”

“Can we cheat?”

Cam laughed. “We could, but I don’t trust those reporters not to show up early. I’d prefer to have clothes on when they arrive.”

Grumbling, Blair rolled onto her back and pulled Cam down for a kiss. “Quickies like last night are nice, but I’m getting that wanting you to make love to me for an hour feeling.”

“If you hadn’t put me to sleep quite so efficiently last night, I would have taken care of that for you.”

Blair grinned. “I love knocking you out. It makes me feel virile.”

“Virile, huh?” Cam smoothed her hand down Blair’s belly and brushed her fingers between her legs. She was wet. “Not the first thought that comes to my mind.”

“I meant like potent and powerful.” Blair tilted her hips and opened her legs. “Five minutes. Five minutes to take the edge off until we can steal a couple of hours to ourselves.”

Cam settled against the pillows. “Come up here.”

Blair got to her knees and straddled Cam’s chest. When Cam cupped her ass and guided her down, she closed her eyes and took the pleasure only Cam could give her.

Matheson wrapped his thin thermal blanket around his rifle and buried it in the snow at the base of a forked pine. He wouldn’t need it for the close-in action he had planned, and the extra few seconds it would buy him not to tip off the agents guarding his quarry would be vital. Next he secured the extra ammo clips for his automatic in the pockets of his jacket. Then he chewed a K-ration bar and observed the shift change taking place at the rear of the cabin. Every four hours throughout the night, the agents had changed. Now an agent in winter BDUs made his way around the side path to the back deck, climbed the steps, and stopped next to the hot tub to speak to the woman who had had the last watch. Matheson smiled, thinking about the hot tub scene. Best surveillance duty he’d ever had. He couldn’t radio his second with an update yet because the Secret Service would have monitoring devices to pick up any transmissions in the area. He estimated he would have five seconds before the agent outside Blair Powell’s back door realized what he had planned.

Emory sat up in bed and ran her hand over the empty place beside her. The space was still warm. She heard water running in the bathroom and relaxed. Dana hadn’t left. The bathroom door opened, and when Dana emerged, naked, Emory smiled. “Hi.”

Dana slid back in bed and kissed Emory. “Hi. How’s your morning going?”

“It’s different.”

“How so?” Dana’s tone was light but she looked worried. “Morning-after regrets?”

“No.” Emory ran her fingers through Dana’s hair. “But I have never been at such a loss as to what I should say. Or do.”

“Anything bothering you?” Dana propped her head on her elbow and caressed Emory’s shoulder and arm with the other hand.

“Not that I can think of, although my mind is a little fuzzy still.” Emory stroked Dana’s hip.

“Sleep okay?”

“In between waking up to have sex with you?” Emory shook her head, not quite believing how many times she’d come and amazed that she wanted to again, already. “I feel great. Should I apologize for not letting you get any sleep?”

“Hardly. Everything about last night was fantastic.” Dana dipped her head to kiss Emory’s breast, then rolled her tongue lazily around the swiftly hardening nipple. When Emory moaned and held her head more tightly to her breast, Dana ignited, just as she had every time Emory had reached for her in the night. Emory was magic in bed. As wary as Emory was out of bed, she was equally unreserved in it. She asked for what she wanted and seemed to delight in pleasuring Dana, leaving Dana endlessly hungry for her. Dana moved to the other nipple while continuing to toy with the one she had abandoned.

“You make it really really hard for me to think,” Emory complained weakly. Needing more contact, aching for Dana in a way she had never before experienced, she pulled Dana on top of her. She kissed her, fusing their centers while massaging the strong muscles in Dana’s shoulders and back. “Oh God, that’s good.”

Dana braced herself on her arms, thrusting harder and faster between Emory’s legs. Emory’s nails dug into her skin, raked the length of her back, and clutched at her ass. Emory’s eyes flew open and the awe and pleasure skating across her face made Dana’s clit swell and pulse.

She groaned.

“Oh, you’re going to come, aren’t you,” Emory said, wrapping her legs harder around Dana’s hips. “I love it when you…oh. God… I’m…”

“You too.” Dana gasped and her eyes slammed shut. “Oh Christ.”

They clung to one another, straining, shivering, crying out. Then Dana’s arms folded and she collapsed into Emory’s embrace. Emory stroked her hair, the back of her neck, her shoulders.

“I love what you do to me,” Emory whispered.

“You kill me.”

Emory smiled, physically satisfied and supremely content. She thought about what she’d said last night, that if she made love to Dana, kept control, she wouldn’t lose herself. How foolish she had been. She hadn’t been able to keep Dana out of any part of herself. She hadn’t known what true need was until Dana had awakened it in her, and answered it. “God, I don’t know what I’m going to do.”

Dana raised her head, a frown forming between her brows. “About what?”

Emory traced Dana’s mouth with her fingers. “About you. About this hunger I have for you.”

“It’s new for me too,” Dana said. “But last night feels like a beginning. I’m not going anywhere.” She glanced at the clock and grinned ruefully. “Well, not permanently. But I have to go now.”

“Work?”

“’Fraid so.” Dana rolled out of bed.

Emory missed her immediately.

“I have a pre-press interview scheduled with Blair, and if I don’t get going, I’ll be late.” Dana kissed Emory quickly and grabbed her clothes before she gave in and did what she wanted to do, which was taste her and tease her and make her come again. And again. She pulled on her jeans and T-shirt. “Can I see you later? Alone.”

“Yes.” When Dana leaned down for another kiss, Emory curled an arm around her neck and, unable to stop at just a light kiss, plunged into her mouth, drinking her in. When she let her go, she knew she would ache for her for hours. “But I can’t promise I won’t attack you the instant I see you.”

“I’ll hold you to that.” Dana ran a hand through her hair and shook her head. “Jesus. I really don’t want to go.”

Emory yanked the covers up to her chin and clutched them to her body. “Go now. Go, or I’m going to drag you back down here and I’m not going to let you up again today.”

Dana backed away, her eyes devouring Emory. “Think about me.”

“You have no idea.” Emory sighed. “I haven’t been able to think about anything else since the moment I saw you.”

Dana slipped out the bedroom door and Emory collapsed into the pillows. Her body was in turmoil, but her mind was as clear and calm as it had ever been. For the first time in her life, she didn’t have to understand something to know it was right.

Matheson watched Cameron Roberts stride down the path toward the lodge just as another agent he didn’t recognize headed toward the cabin. That made three agents stationed somewhere in the vicinity of the cabin. He was neither surprised nor deterred. The president’s daughter was never alone, but there were usually fewer people around her while she was in her private quarters than out in public. That’s why he had organized the first strike on her loft. This cabin wasn’t much different. The main lodge was crawling with agents, and according to the White House press bulletin the previous day, a press conference was scheduled later on in the morning. His window of opportunity to get to her was very small, and would never be perfect. Fortunately, surprise was on his side. And of course, so was God. If he’d wanted to kill her, she’d be dead by now. For the moment, at least, he would attempt to deliver what his foreign friends had requested. He removed the Glock from its holster and set off into the woods. If he approached the cabin from the side farthest from the lodge, he would be invisible most of the way.

He drew in a deep breath of sharp mountain air. It was a great day for a hunt.

“Morning,” Dana said to Paula Stark as she climbed the steps to Blair’s cabin. She indicated the door. “I’m expected.”

“Morning.” Stark knew the day’s schedule, including the media circus that was planned for noon. Nightmare was more like it. Controlling traffic up and down the mountainside was going to be a challenge, and despite ID checks and required press passes, limiting Blair’s exposure to the press and the curious was essentially impossible. Short of keeping Blair inside, absolute security was unattainable. Nevertheless, it was Stark’s job to provide just that. “She’s waiting.”

“Thanks.” Dana knocked and Blair answered immediately. “I hope I’m not too early.”

Blair smiled. “You’re right on time. Come on in. I just put fresh coffee on.”

Dana stepped through the door and removed her jacket. She’d barely had time to grab a shower, pull on fresh jeans, a T-shirt, and pullover before rushing back to Blair’s. When she had passed Emory’s cabin, it took all her willpower not to detour for just a minute. She’d resisted because she knew that a minute was not going to be enough, and she could hardly keep the president’s daughter waiting. Nevertheless, she couldn’t help wondering if Emory had gone back to sleep, curled around the memory of their night together. Pushing away the images that threatened to stir her up and wreak havoc on her concentration, she indicated the coat tree. “May I?”

“Of course.” Blair headed back toward the kitchen. “Hungry? I’ve got bagels to go with that coffee.”

“Sold.”

As Dana followed, she heard a thump on the back porch. Snow sliding off the roof, most likely. A new storm had blown in sometime before dawn, and already several new inches had accumulated on the path.

The guard on the rear deck jerked to attention when a figure appeared around the corner of the cabin. Without hesitating, he stepped forward, his hand sliding inside his jacket. “That’s far enou…”

Matheson raised the pistol and fired. Blood blossomed on the agent’s forehead, and he fell. Before the body landed, Matheson reared back, kicked the back door open, and vaulted into the kitchen.

“Good morning,” he said pleasantly as he leveled his gun on the first daughter. “Is that coffee I smell?”

“Who are you?” Blair quickly backed up into the doorway, hoping to shield Dana from the intruder’s line of sight. If he didn’t see her, Dana might have a chance to get out. She judged the distance to his gun hand. Not enough room for a roundhouse kick, but with luck a well-placed snap kick might work.

Before Blair could try, Matheson rushed her, spun her around toward the living room, and shoved her with a fist to the middle of her back. “Move.”

Blair shouted a warning to Dana before crashing into an end table. Matheson clubbed Dana in the temple. As she fell, the front door burst open. Stark raced inside, shouting into her transmitter, her gun sweeping the room.

Matheson opened fire.

As the red-alert signal came over her receiver, Patrice Hara jumped up from the small dining room table, knocking her coffee cup to the floor. “Greg!”

Wozinski crashed through the double doors from the kitchen. “I heard it!”

“Someone advise Commander Roberts!” Patrice raced for the door.

Seconds later, she and Wozinski sprinted down the snow-covered path toward Blair’s cabin. Vaughn ran up the trail toward them from the far side of Blair’s cabin. Patrice shouted into her radio. “Stark? Julio? Status?”

“Jesus,” Wozinski panted when his receiver remained silent. “Where are they?”

Patrice caught movement out of the corner of her eye and pivoted, her gun extended. Cameron Roberts ran toward them over the hard-packed snow in her shirtsleeves, her weapon out, her face a study of eerie calm.

“Report?” Cam barked, never slowing her pace.

“Don’t know.” Patrice stepped aside as the commander barreled past, then rushed to catch up. “I got an interrupted transmission from… oh Jesus.”

Everyone except Cam skidded to a halt. Blair stood framed in the doorway of the cabin. A man in winter BDUs stood behind her, watching them approach. He held an automatic pistol to Blair’s temple.

“Hara, Wozinski, stay back,” Cam shouted, halting at the foot of the path that led to Blair’s cabin. Then she leveled her weapon on the man in the doorway. Matheson. At last. “Let her go.”

Matheson smiled. “I don’t think so.”

Cam’s head felt like it might explode. She was going to kill him for touching Blair. Not now. Later. She would kill him later. She forced back the terror at the sight of the gun against Blair’s head. Not like Janet—Blair, not Janet. Blair. He would not take Blair. Cam eased slowly forward in the unblemished snow, one step at a time, her weapon steady in a two-handed grip. “What do you want?”

“That’s far enough.” Matheson pushed the gun barrel into Blair’s temple, and Blair winced, coming up on her toes to relieve the pressure.

Cam was close enough to see the expression in Blair’s eyes. Fear, yes, but above all, fury. Good, Blair would need that anger to keep her head clear. Cam halted. Dead man. You’re a dead man.

“What do you want?” Cam repeated calmly. If he’d wanted Blair dead, he would have shot her and been long gone.

“Tell the president to expect a call.”

“I can help you get what you want.” Cam took another cautious step forward. Twenty yards. She was good at twenty yards, but not good enough. Always trade for something. She would have to break a few rules, but this was Blair. “Let’s work together here.”

“Why should I do that? I hold all the power.” He looped an arm around Blair’s neck and jerked her against his chest, shielding his body further. “I have her.”

“You know how it works,” Cam said, playing to his ego. “Show of good faith. You give me something, I make a call to the right person.”

“And what would you want?”

“I need to come inside. Then I’ll make some calls.”

“No,” Blair cried, her voice muffled from the pressure of Matheson’s arm on her throat.

Matheson laughed. “We’ve got enough people inside already.”

“Then I’ll trade places with her. I’ll be a lot more useful to you than her. I know who holds the power in Washington. Do you really think it’s her father?” Cam laughed and took another step. Almost close enough. If she could just draw his fire. She was counting on her team to have gotten someone into position with a sniper rifle. “Me for her.”

Blair struggled in Matheson’s grip and cried out when he fisted his hand in her hair, yanking her head back. His expression hardened. “Maybe everyone will feel more inclined to be helpful if I put a bullet in her.”

“All right, all right,” Cam shouted. “If you hurt her, you’ll have nothing to bargain with.”

“I’ve got a lot to bargain with. One of your agents is bleeding out on the floor just inside,” Matheson said conversationally. “And I’ve got another one who’s going to have quite a headache if she ever comes to.” He smiled. “I’ve got plenty of currency.”

“You know what I’m talking about,” Cam said, standing rigid, her gun still trained on him. She didn’t raise her voice, but it carried through the clear cold air like steel slicing flesh. “Hurt her, and God Almighty could be in that room and it won’t save you.”

“What makes you think God isn’t in this room?” Matheson dragged Blair backward into the cabin. At the last instant, he turned his gun on Cam.

Blair’s scream was lost in the sound of gunfire.

Chapter Twenty-three

For the span of a heartbeat, Cam stood her ground with bullets singing around her head, praying for a one split-second glimpse of Matheson’s unprotected body. But the bastard was smart, and he held Blair so close that only an inch or two of head and torso was visible. She was a good shot, but not good enough to risk Blair’s life. Cam held for another heartbeat, petitioning the universe to bend to the force of her will, but it would not yield. She dove to the ground chest first, barely registering the pain lasering through her bruised ribs. When silence fell, she rolled to her knees, breathing hard, and trained her weapon on the closed cabin door. She wanted to storm the cabin, she wanted to be in that room with her hands around Matheson’s neck. She wanted to shout that if he hurt her, if he so much as touched her again, she would tear his still-beating heart from his chest with her bare hands.

“Commander,” Hara called from somewhere behind Cam. “Commander, take cover, for God’s sake.”

Cam stood up, her gaze riveted to the cabin, and slowly backed away. Take cover. What kind of cover did Blair have inside that cabin with a maniac? When Cam reached the trail in front of the cabin and saw no activity from inside, she holstered her weapon and sought out her people, who had taken positions in the trees around the clearing. Hara and Wozinski had been joined by the other members of Blair’s security detail along with Steph and the rest of Tanner’s team. All told, a dozen formidable professionals. Someone, probably Hara, had deployed them to cover the cabin should Matheson try to escape, with or without the hostages.

Cam needed to formulate a counterattack. Matheson was going to move fast, and he had the advantage as long as Blair was alive. That he intended to kill her was a given. At some point, Blair would no longer have value as bargaining currency, and then Matheson would execute her. Cam had only one option—kill him before he ever had that chance.

“Steph,” Cam said, “put your best sniper on that door. Put another on the rear. I want only you, me, and Hara to have a channel to them. I give the go.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Make sure we have a tight perimeter on the cabin. Then evacuate the other cabins, get everyone into the lodge, and post someone on all the entrances. No one leaves without my say-so.”

“On it.” Steph spoke into a throat mic as she ran toward the closest cabin.

“Hara.”

“Commander?”

“I need aerial surveillance. Have Wozinski contact the president’s advance team in town and tell them we’re canceling the press conference because we need extra time to secure the road up here. Do not apprise them of the situation here. Then put Greg and one of Steph’s long-range shooters into the air in our bird.”

“Yes, ma’am.” Hara started away.

“Hara,” Cam said.

Hara looked back. “Ma’am?”

“If I go down, you have the command.” Cam stared at the cabin. “He’s going to try to move her. Soon. He’s going to come out and she’s his ticket to freedom. Do not let him put her in a vehicle. Give the sniper the green light to fire at will.”

“Understood.” Hara’s voice was raspy with tension.

Hara disappeared and Cam signaled for one of Steph’s men to take up the position that Hara had vacated. Then she went in search of Mac Phillips. She found him hunkered down behind a boulder, an assault rifle trained on the cabin. “Stark’s down.”

“Could you tell—”

“Status unknown.” Cam fisted her hands. “Dana Barnett’s in there too. That’s all we know.”

“Jesus.”

“Do you have people on the back?”

“Two teams.”

“Good. Who was on the back door?”

“Julio.” Mac shook his head without taking his eyes off the cabin. “There’s a body on the porch. Must be him. No way Matheson could have gotten past him unless he took him out.”

“I agree.” Cam’s head was buzzing, her instincts were at war. Her heart and a good part of her mind screamed for her to get Blair out now, get Blair away from him, get Blair to safety. But her training demanded she be calm and dispassionate—assess the situation, plan for contingencies, and ultimately, execute a counterattack. The Secret Service did not react, it acted. She could not allow Matheson to dictate the plays. She knew that. But she wanted to be inside that cabin with Blair more than she had ever wanted anything in her life, and she didn’t care if she died trying. Not the way she needed to be thinking. She closed her eyes and directed every bit of willpower she possessed into resurrecting her professional shields. She would do this by the book, until she had no other choice.

“You think he’s alone?” Mac asked.

“Looks that way. So far.” Cam’s nerves settled as she focused on the problem. “No covering fire when any of us took position, and these kind of guys don’t pass up a ready target. Besides, I think the only way he could have gotten this close without being detected was to come alone or with one or two others.”

“Bold plan but makes sense.”

“The lone gunman,” Cam said bitterly. “The hardest to defend against. Christ, he could have skied to within a hundred yards of here from almost anywhere on the mountain and we wouldn’t have known.”

“What does he want?”

“What do any of these fanatics want? Someone to listen to them. The semblance of power.” She raked a hand through her hair. She was afraid it was more than mere political fanaticism this time. She feared his true target was Blair and always had been. Her shirt, wet from her dive into the snow, had frozen and chafed her skin. She shivered. “He’ll tell us soon enough. In the meantime, I need you back inside the lodge.

Set up a command post and monitor any and all transmissions in or out of this area.”

“With respect, Commander, I think I’ll be of more use out here. Maybe you should take the inside—”

“No,” Cam snapped. “He’s got partners somewhere. He wouldn’t walk into this if he didn’t have someone on the outside waiting to help him disappear. The more we know, the more we limit his options. I don’t want him to think he’s in charge.”

“Right. Okay.” Mac looked uncomfortable. “Are you going to call for backup?”

Cam shook her head. “We have all the people we need right here, and I know just how good they are. We bring in hostage rescue or a spec ops team and we’ll have chaos. I’m not putting him under that kind of pressure. Not with our people inside that cabin with him.” Not with his gun on Blair.

When Mac looked like he would say more, Cam cut him off. She knew she’d probably lose her creds over the decision. That didn’t matter. Nothing mattered except getting Blair and the others out. “What’s Valerie and Renee’s ETA?”

“They should be landing right about now.”

“Good. Go ahead and brief them, then I want to see them both.” Cam scanned the area, checking to be sure she had people in appropriate vantage points. “Double-check that everyone has radios and put them on delta frequency. Then get back to the lodge, Mac.” She tore her eyes from the cabin and met his. “That’s where I need you. I need to know what he’s doing. I’m blind out here.”

“Yes ma’am.” Mac crouched, ready to move away, but still he hesitated. “I’ll send a vest and a dry shirt down for you.”

“I’m okay.”

“You might be out here for a while.”

Wordlessly, Cam nodded. She would be here until Blair was safe. Time was immaterial.

Emory had heard gunfire before. The first shot had brought her upright in bed as she struggled to make sense of the sound. She knew what it was but her conscious mind refused to embrace the idea. The second and third reports had followed closely on the first, and instinctively she’d rolled out of bed onto the floor, no longer able to deny the reality. The eerie silence that followed was more unnerving than the gunfire. Staying low, out of sight of the bedroom window, she quickly grabbed her clothes and jumped into the bathroom. Hastily, hands shaking, she pulled on jeans, a sweater, and boots. When she dared to peek out the window she saw armed figures moving at the edge of the woods, but she couldn’t make out who they were. Heart hammering, she dashed into the main room and snatched her jacket and cell phone. She wished she had a gun. After the first attack on her life, she’d gotten a license and learned to shoot but she refused to carry a weapon. Despite the threats made against her, she did not want to answer violence and hatred with more violence. She wondered now if she had been wrong.

Date: 2015-12-11; view: 654