Page 7

Into the Mist Page 7

by Maya Banks


She found him on the deck, staring out over the ocean. She walked past the open sliding glass doors. He looked up when he heard her approach.

“Hi,” she said in a soft voice.

He opened his arms, and she walked into his embrace. She wrapped her arms around him and held on tight. Just like so many times before.

His lips brushed across the top of her head. She turned her face up so she could see him. “How are you?”

“I don’t want to talk about me.”

She closed her eyes and buried her face in his chest. Strong fingers slid under her chin and forced her gaze back up to meet his.

“I want to talk about you, Ty.”

She closed her eyes and shook her head. “Don’t spoil things, D. Let it go.”

He tapped her cheek with his finger, causing her to open her eyes again. “I’m not letting it go.”

“There’s nothing you can say that will change anything. I don’t want to fight with you.”

He sighed and gripped her a little tighter. “I won’t let you do this. Stay away from him, Ty. I won’t let you kill yourself for me.”

She pulled away and gripped his shoulders in her hands. “I’m not going to get myself killed. You know I’m better than that. But if you think I’m going to sit back and watch you suffer, then you know nothing about me.”

Damiano turned his back to her to stare over the ocean again. “What you don’t understand, Ty, is that I’d suffer more if something happened to you. Maybe you should think about that instead of trying to fix things you can’t change.”

She curled her arms around his middle and laid her cheek to his back. She could feel the tremors rippling through his muscles. The resignation in his voice made her want to scream. Never had she felt so helpless in her life. Not in the orphanage, not when they came for her and Damiano, not when Damiano stood in front of her, determined to take whatever he could for her.

“He’s stable, D. He has absolute control over his shifts. He has connections we don’t. Someone or something helped him. If it can help him, it can help you. I won’t accept that I can’t make this right for you. I won’t.”

His hands closed over hers and pulled them up over his heart. “I’m asking you to stand down, Ty. Don’t do this.”

She closed her eyes and kept her face buried in his back. He never asked her for anything. But this was one promise she couldn’t make him. So she said nothing, because she wouldn’t lie.

Jonah stared down at Damiano and Tyana lying on the couch in the game room. Ty was on the inside of the couch, curled into D’s body. D had a protective arm around her midsection and both were asleep.

Even in sleep, D was tightly wound, his body tense. His breaths came erratically, seemingly torn from him under duress. Nerves twitched and muscles jumped.

The two looked vulnerable. Despite their toughness. Despite the fact that Jonah knew they could take on just about any challenge. They wouldn’t be on his team if he had any doubts about their capabilities.

But right now they reminded him of the two scared, starving kids he and Mad Dog had found on the streets of Prague so many years ago. They were running on empty.

Jonah turned to look at Mad Dog who stood a few feet away. Helplessness he wasn’t accustomed to flickered uncomfortably in his mind. He was used to being able to meet any challenge no matter how great. But Tyana and Damiano mattered to him. They were his family. For the first time, he was faced with a situation where he wasn’t sure he could provide a solution.

“How much of a threat is Eli Chance?”

Mad Dog scowled. “To us? Not great, even if he did manage to locate the island. He’s nothing we can’t handle. To Ty, however…” He shook his head. “I’m afraid this has become more than a simple matter of her searching for answers. He’s gotten to her twice.”

“Fuck waiting for him to relax his guard,” Jonah said coldly. “I want to know when he eats, sleeps, takes a piss and where he does it. When you have everything compiled, bring it to me. We’re going after him. I won’t take chances with Ty’s safety.”

Mad Dog nodded. “I’ll get on it.” He paused for a moment then looked over at Jonah. “What are we going to do about Ty when we go after Chance?”

Jonah fixed Mad Dog with a stony stare. “If I have to tie her up and have the Falcon secondary sit on her, I will. She’s not to leave this island again.”

Damiano’s guttural cry woke Tyana from a deep sleep. He rolled from the couch and hit the floor. She was beside him in an instant, her arms curling around his spasming body.

“D, stay with me,” she pleaded.

“Get away from him, Ty,” Mad Dog ordered as he strode into the room.

“No. I won’t leave him.”

Damiano arched and jerked. His hand caught her in the face. Pain exploded through her head as she sailed backward several feet. She lay there, stunned at his strength.

“Jonah! Get the hell in here,” Mad Dog yelled.

She stared at Damiano in mute horror as his body contorted. When his eyes opened, he stared at her without recognition. The pupils constricted and changed shape. They were no longer human.

“No,” she whispered.

Jonah and Mad Dog fell on him in an attempt to subdue the raging beast. Two more of their security personnel ran through the door. One carried a syringe.

“Stun him,” Jonah barked.

“No!” Tyana scrambled over to Damiano as he struggled beneath the men. “Don’t hurt him.”

Mad Dog plucked her from the floor and held her kicking, writhing body away from the others. “Ty, stop. It’s the only way.”

She twisted and fought, but Mad Dog held her fast. Finally, he pushed her to the floor and put one knee in the middle of her back and held her arms behind her with his hand.

“Goddamn you, Mad Dog.”

With his other hand, he stroked her hair, the action at complete opposition to the force he was using.

Damiano let out a cry of pain, and Tyana jerked beneath Mad Dog’s body. Then all went quiet.

“D!” Tyana’s cry split the room.

“He’s all right, Ty,” Jonah said as he got up from the floor. He looked over at Mad Dog. “Let her go.”

Mad Dog eased off her body, and she crawled over to where Damiano lay, his breaths coming in quiet spurts. Tears filled her eyes as she gathered him in her arms.

“I want him confined to quarters,” Jonah said to the security men.

She shot to her feet. “Why are you doing this? I won’t let you treat him like an animal.”

“Am I supposed to stand by and let him kill you, Ty?”

“He won’t hurt me.”

Jonah reached out and cupped her bruised cheek. “He already has.”

“It wasn’t his fault,” she said desperately. “It wasn’t him. You know he wouldn’t hurt me.”

“That’s just it. He’s not himself. I won’t allow him to endanger you just because you’ve lost all objectivity.”

“We can’t all be the cold-hearted bastard you are,” she spat. She whirled around to see Damiano being carried out of the room. Jonah followed close behind. She started to go after him, but Mad Dog caught her wrist and held tight.

She stared at him with accusing eyes. “You too?”

“You’re not being fair to Jonah and you know it,” Mad Dog said quietly.

Rage simmered underneath her skin, begged to be let loose.

“Will it make you feel better to hit me?” he asked.

Her chin sagged, and she looked away. “No, goddamn it, it won’t.”

“Jonah is doing his best, Ty. Cut him some slack. He wants to help D just as much as you do.”

She sank onto the couch and held her hands over her face. “I know. Damn it, I know.”

Mad Dog sat down beside her and for a long moment neither of them spoke. She turned to him, finally breaking the silence.

“I don’t know what to do, Mad Dog,” she whispered. “I don’t know how to
help him, and it’s killing me.”

Mad Dog touched her face. “You need some ice on that or it’s going to swell.”

She sighed as he got up and walked over to the minibar to get some ice. Her head ached like a son of a bitch.

“Get me a drink too. Hell, and fire up one of your joints.”

Chapter Eight

“You’re getting sloppy, Eli.”

Eli raised one eyebrow as he stared at Ian Thomas over his beer. “Sloppy? I think I might be insulted.”

Braden strolled in, a baseball cap shoved over his eyes, and sat down next to Ian. Concern flickered in Ian’s eyes before he shifted his attention back to Eli.

“You didn’t exactly cover your tracks very well. Registering your flight plan from Paris? Flying into frickin’ Buenos Aires? Making enough noise to wake the dead? Shit, we’ll have the damn U.S. government back on our asses. We’re supposed to lay low, pretend to be dead or something, according to Uncle Sam.”

A smile curved Eli’s lips. “My actions were purely intentional, I assure you.”

“That’s what bugs me,” Braden muttered, speaking for the first time.

Eli stared at the two brothers and sighed. And then another thought occurred to him. “Where the fuck is Gabe? He was supposed to be keeping an eye on you two.”

“We don’t need a goddamn babysitter,” Ian growled.

“Who needs Gabe when Ian fulfills those requirements perfectly?” Braden muttered.

Ian glanced sideways at Braden. “You’re more unstable than I am, little brother. Someone has to look after your ass.”

Braden snorted. “I haven’t shifted in three days. But gee, I happened to see a fucking jaguar skulking around the grounds yesterday. I wonder who that could be.”

“Shut the fuck up,” Ian said.

“Both of you shut the fuck up and listen,” Eli interjected. “Not that I don’t love listening to you two argue, but we have things to do.”

“Such as?” Ian asked.

“Preparing for a visitor.” Eli couldn’t keep the grin from his face.

He had their full attention now.

Braden stared at him for a moment. “So the sloppiness was to lure someone here, I take it?”

Eli nodded.

“Who?” Ian demanded.

“Tyana Berezovsky.”

Braden frowned. “The name is familiar. Am I supposed to know who she is?”

Ian drummed his fingers on his knees then gave Eli a sharp look. “Damiano Ruiz’s sister? Doesn’t she belong to Falcon?”

Eli nodded. “Yep. And she’s after me. She looked me up in Singapore. I returned the favor in Paris. She’ll come after me next.”

“You seem so sure of that,” Braden said.

“Oh, she’ll come,” Eli said softly. “And I plan to be ready for her.”

“What does she want?” Ian asked.

“That I don’t know. But I intend to find out.”

Tyana settled into a cross-legged position and rubbed her eyes in an attempt to ease the wooziness brought on by too much to drink and a few too many joints.

The salty ocean breeze helped clear her head some as she focused her stare at a distant point on the horizon. She’d crawled down to her favorite getaway spot to do some hard thinking and plotting.

From the deck, she’d had to climb over the railing, drop down to the rock outcropping and shimmy around the face of the cliff. Several feet below, a boulder jutted out from the rock face. The flat surface offered an area large enough to sit on and enjoy the view of the ocean crashing below her.

It was her one seclusion away from everyone else. No one ever bothered her here, though she had no doubt Jonah knew of its location. He made it his business to know everything.

A deflated sigh escaped her. True, Jonah made her angry, but she couldn’t bring herself to stay that way. He’d saved her and D, taken them from scraggly street kids to honed fighters. She’d always owe him for that, and for that reason, he had her loyalty. Loyalty that would be sorely tested by what she had to do.

After seeing what had happened to D earlier, she knew she couldn’t wait to act. If there was any chance, no matter how slight, she had to seize it. He wouldn’t last much longer.

Grief knotted her throat and pressed painfully against her chest. She couldn’t lose D. She wouldn’t. He’d been hers since she was a child. Her earliest memories were of the orphanage and of Damiano, an older boy, skinny, with big brown eyes and enough courage to sustain them both during their rough years at the institution.

He’d fought for her more times than she could count, and now, when he couldn’t fight for himself, she would. Or die trying.

She stayed out long after the sun had slipped over the horizon. She watched as, one by one, the stars popped into the night sky. Instead of being soothed by the sounds of the waves below her, she grew tenser the longer she sat.

Plans rolled and formulated in her mind. Jonah presented a huge obstacle, but not an insurmountable one. Seeing Damiano in pain, writhing on the floor, had provided her all the motivation she needed. He was running out of time.

Finally content with the plan of action she’d formed, she uncurled her stiff limbs and stood. She dug her hands into the side of the cliff and prepared to climb back up to the deck.

A few minutes later, she hauled herself over the railing and fell with a thump.

“Climbing up and down a cliff is never a good idea after drinks and marijuana,” Jonah said dryly.

She stood, brushing herself off as she looked over to see Jonah sitting in the dark. When he continued to stare at her, she let her shoulders sag and braced herself for a lecture.

When he didn’t say anything further, she leaned against the railing and propped her weight on her hands.

“What are you doing out here?” she asked.

“Waiting for you.”

She stiffened again.

“I know you’re angry with me, Ty. In your shoes, I would be too.”

She stared uneasily at him. The only thing worse than a brooding, pissed-off Jonah, was dealing with a Jonah she wasn’t used to. An understanding, nice Jonah.

“I would have done the same thing you did,” he said quietly.

She went completely still.

“I’m not condoning what you did, but I understand why. Even though I can’t allow you to continue this crusade to help D.”

A frustrated sigh spilled from her lips.

“If this was a mission, if it was anything else, I’d place my confidence and my trust in you. You’ve never let me down. You’re damn good. Our team relies on you.”

Even as her cheeks tightened with pleasure from his rare praise, disappointment settled heavy in her stomach. “Why don’t you trust me now?”

He sighed. “It’s not a matter of trust, Ty.” He stood and covered the short distance between them. He stood just inches from her and looked down. In the pale moonlight, she could see tension and fatigue etched into his hard features. “You, Mad Dog and D are the only family I have. The only people I care about. I’ll do whatever it takes to keep you safe.”

Her fingers curled into tight balls against the coarse wood railing. “But D needs help. By not allowing me off the island, you’re hurting him.”

Jonah shook his head. “I won’t trade you for D.” His words echoed Mad Dog’s statement of a few days ago. “We’ll find a way to help him that doesn’t involve you chasing after Eli Chance or his team of shifters.”

He reached out and gripped her shoulders. “Do you understand that, Ty? Do you honestly think any of us could be happy that Damiano was saved at your expense? It doesn’t work like that, and if you think it does, then you don’t know us very well.”

Shame crept up her spine. Tentatively she circled Jonah’s waist with her arms and pressed her cheek to his chest. He hesitated for a moment then slid his hands from her shoulders and hugged her tightly against him.

After a few seconds, she shifted uncomfortably and pu
lled away. He stepped back and shoved a hand to the back of his neck. It was more up close and personal than either of them felt comfortable with. She chuckled softly. Boneheads, the both of them.

“Thanks, Jonah,” she said.

He reached out and ruffled her hair. “Get some rest, okay? You look like hell.”

“Gee thanks.”

She watched him walk back inside and expelled a pent-up breath when he closed the sliding doors behind him. It was as if he’d read her goddamn mind and knew exactly what to say to make her feel about six inches high.

For a brief moment, she contemplated chucking her carefully thought-out plan, but the image of Damiano writhing on the floor, in so much pain, shut the door on any guilt she felt.

Jonah’s anger, his disapproval, she could face. She couldn’t face herself if she let Damiano down. Jonah might well toss her out on her ass once this was all over with, and she wouldn’t blame him. No one in FMG crossed him. What he said went. But as long as Damiano got what he needed to survive, she was okay with the fallout over her actions.

Chapter Nine

It wasn’t easy to pick a time when either Mad Dog or Jonah wasn’t skulking about. Tyana sometimes wondered if they slept at all.

She picked an hour before dawn, typically when Mad Dog had just gone to sleep and Jonah was holed up in his office doing what he did best. Brood.

She put on a muscle shirt, a pair of shorts and her running shoes then walked out of her room, prepared with a story that she couldn’t sleep and was going on a run. Something that, as it happened, occurred frequently.

First she’d swing by and check on D.

When she found two guards posted outside his door, she frowned. When she tried to move past them and open the door, they moved to block her.

“Sorry, Jonah’s orders. No one goes in without his say so.”

Anger exploded within her. She wanted to kick their asses and then go tear a strip off Jonah’s hide, but she had to remember her objective.

She glared at them both before she stalked down the hall to the stairs. When she was stopped by another of Jonah’s security team, she let out a hiss of impatience.

“I’m going running. Or is that allowed?”

“Let her go,” Jonah called from his office door where he stood watching Tyana.