Part 12 (1/2)
But Stefan had stopped, and the look on his face-”What?” she asked. ”What's wrong?”
He spread a hand over her rib cage, and she looked down. Beneath the spread of his fingers, her skin was livid red, brown, black, blue, green...a rainbow of bruising. ”My G.o.d,” he said. ”What happened?”
”I told you before. There was a firefight.”
His head came up, quickly. ”You were shot?”
”No, my bulletproof vest was shot. I got a couple of bruises.”
”Katie, that's not a couple of bruises!” He looked, and sounded, appalled. ”Did you go to the hospital?”
”I've had worse.”
”That's not an answer!” He pressed slightly, and she winced. ”Are you sure those aren't broken?”
”Stefan. They're not broken. They don't even hurt that much. It's just bruises. I'll live.”
He gave her a look, then bestowed a light kiss in the dark center of the area, where it ached the most. ”I think we should wait,” he said. ”That can't be comfortable for you-”
For answer, she grabbed him, threw him flat on the bed and straddled him. And smiled.
”Trust me,” she said. ”I'm tougher than I look.”
”Oh,” he said faintly. ”Well, I'm not, so please warn me before you-But you can keep on doing that, I'm not going to be complaining....” His eyes drifted half-closed, looking up at her as she leaned forward, her weight moving in slow circles against him. ”Katie-” he made her name a caress ”-twenty-seven minutes.”
She couldn't quite remember how his pants ended up on the floor-magic, probably-but she remembered, vividly, peeling down the fabric of his shorts, remembered the full, powerful burn of undisguised need in his eyes, remembered...
...oh, everything. Every nerve firing hot, every square inch of skin caressed, every damp kiss and silken slide of body on body. He fitted with her perfectly, and if he was using some mad psychic ability to read her emotions and tailor his lovemaking, she was entirely in favor, because it was utterly, completely mind-blowing.
She was lying spent and sweating on his chest, still trembling with aftershocks and idly tracing his lips with her fingertips, when Stefan murmured, ”We're twenty-two minutes into overtime.”
”Overtime?” she said. ”I haven't even started the second quarter of play.”
”Oh.” And then, faintly, he said, ”Glad you bought the three-pack.”
The phone call came an hour later, when they were dozing in each other's arms, temporarily sated. Katie rolled up and out of bed, grabbed the phone and listened tensely.
”No progress,” she said over her shoulder to Stefan. ”Thank you, Captain. Listen, does the name Calipatria mean anything to you? Is it a town?”
”Yeah,” Captain Menchaca said. ”Out by the Salton Sea and the gunnery range, you know? Off Highway 111 on the California side. Why? You got a lead?”
”Yes,” she said. ”Get on the phone with the California Highway Patrol and ask them to focus their search with the hub at Calipatria, radiating west on 111 and 78. Check the side roads. Any other freeways they can intersect with from there?”
”If they're going south, they could go up to Los Angeles or down to San Diego. Either way.”
”We don't know which they'll take,” she said. ”Cover the whole stretch, if possible. Thanks. I'm on my way.”
She hung up and headed for the bathroom. She looked back, blinked, and saw that Stefan was sitting up in bed, watching her.
”Well?” she asked. ”Are you showering with me?”
He scrambled out from the tangle of sheets to follow.
They didn't speak until they were in the car; for some reason, Katie felt a kind of serenity between the two of them that had been missing before. An acceptance. Words seemed a little...superfluous just now. They were together. She didn't know how long it would last, but it was hers, and a single spark of brilliance in a day that had grown increasingly dark.
Stefan faded away as she drove, keeping his connection with Teal open, though for shorter periods. Caution or prudence, Katie wasn't sure which, but she hadn't asked him to do it-he'd simply a.s.sumed she would want him to. That was a genuine gift to her. If it had a personal cost, he kept her unaware of it, though she thought his face grew paler over time, and he seemed less able to come back to her quickly. That can't be good for him, she thought. The human brain wasn't meant to do that.
They were about half an hour outside of Calipatria when her misgivings proved true. Stefan had quietly faded out, leaving an empty, breathing sh.e.l.l, and returned with the same gasping urgency that she'd seen in the hotel room, and earlier, at the apartment complex. Something wrong. Something badly wrong.
She reached out with her right hand and touched his shoulder, then the beard-rough texture of his cheek. ”Stefan? You all right?” He didn't answer her, but he grabbed her hand in his and held it tight, very tight. His eyes were open, staring straight ahead, and as she stole fast glimpses at him from the dark road they were traveling, he seemed out of it, still.
”Stefan?” she asked again. ”Can you hear me?”
His hand was shaking, and he hadn't let go.
”I'm going to pull over.”
”No.” His voice was hoa.r.s.e, barely recognizable this time as his own. ”No, we have to keep going. They were stopped. Two Highway Patrol cars on Highway 78, heading northwest toward I-10.”
She'd eased off the gas, but now she pressed down again, feeling a surge of exultation sweep through her like a strong breeze. ”See?” She grinned. ”I told you. Teamwork.”
”They're dead,” he said, and closed his eyes to drop his head back against the headrest. ”Oh my G.o.d, they're dead. Three cops. The fourth-they left the fourth one dying. You have to get him help, Katie. I don't know if they got a radio message out.”
Her joy turned to shock. ”You're sure?”
”I saw it.” He didn't open his eyes. His thick, dark lashes were wet. ”The ones in the van opened up on them point-blank. Two of the officers went down before they even knew what was happening. One of them got off a couple of shots, but-”
”Stefan, give me an exit number, a mile marker, anything!”
He was silent for a few seconds, then said, ”I'll try.” And then he was gone again. Katie waited tensely, drumming her fingers on the steering wheel, cursing the night and curving road that slowed her down.
”The van's moving again,” Stefan said. ”They just pa.s.sed an exit, number seventy-three. I couldn't see the mile markers...s.h.i.+t!”
Katie looked at him, startled, as Stefan clapped both hands to his nose and fumbled for the box of tissues sitting in the floorboard. Nosebleed. A bad one. He tilted his head back and applied pressure, and Katie cursed silently and reached over to stroke his cheek again, then cupped her hand at the back of his neck. He felt cold again, and damp.
”Don't,” she said. ”Don't try again. That's enough.”
”I'm not leaving her alone,” he mumbled around the tissues pressed to his nose. They were soaking through with vivid red. ”I can't.”
”You're killing yourself!”
”It's a nosebleed, Katie. And you got shot today. Don't talk to me about killing yourself.” He sounded shaken and furious and annoyingly stubborn. ”They're kids, and I'm not leaving them alone there if I can help it. I have to let her know-”
He was trying to communicate with Teal, not just observe. No wonder he was blowing blood vessels. ”Stefan, do you think she can sense you now? When you're there?”
He nodded, exhausted. ”I can't talk to her, but she can feel my presence. I'm sure she's trying to send me messages, it's just that I can't-I'm not strong enough. I'm trying.”
No wonder they wanted to kill him, Katie thought. He wouldn't give up. She'd known from the beginning that he was persistent, but now she was seeing the steel, and the steel went deep. He was as dangerous to himself as any hired killer, but she couldn't fault him for that-she was too much like that herself.
”Rest for a while,” she said. ”I'm calling it in.”