A Seacat's Love (Oceanan Trilogy Book 1) (29 page)

Tigif was not one to let an opportunity pass him by. He cornered Leonora between a chair and an end table.

“If you do not get out of my way this instant, Tigif, I swear I am going to—”

“Leonora!” Leonora and Tigif were startled by the familiar voice that boomed from the beach entrance.

Leonora saw her brother standing by the doors, big as life. “Challen!” She ran to him, jumping into his strong embrace.

“Thank Onssa, Nora, you are alive!

Challen kissed her on her cheek. He hugged her so tightly that Leonora believed she would pass out from lack of oxygen. She did not complain. She had feared she would never see him again.

“Oh, Challen, I missed you so much.” Her tears began to fall.

“By thunder, Nora,
are you
all right?” Challen lowered her to the ground. He held her at arm’s length and searched for visible injuries. The relief was apparent on his face. “You have a lot of explaining to do, young feline.” His penetrating glare spoke volumes to her.

Leonora wiped the tears from her cheeks. “I can explain.”

“Perhaps the two of you should go to your room, Nora. I’ll take care of these two.” Carol Ann pointed toward Tigif and Jugar, Challen’s companion.

“Thank you, Carol Ann. Come with me, Challen.” She grabbed her brother’s hand and led him to the master bedroom.

After everything was straightened out between them, Rick had refused and forbidden Leonora to sleep outside of his embrace. He had moved her belongings into his bedroom.

Leonora closed the door. Her hand lingered on the knob. Her mind quickly tried to produce a good reason for going against Challen’s wishes. Each time she had conjured something she felt it was lame and disregarded it. Now she wished she had not.

{You better have a good explanation. I have never been this angry with you, Leonora.} Challen sent his thoughts to her.

It felt wonderful to hear Challen’s masculine voice in her head, but Leonora flinched at hearing him use her full name. Challen rarely called her Leonora, except when he was seriously angry with her. The way he stood with his arms crossed over his massive chest—eyes blazing, nostrils flaring—made her fearful of his punishment. She wished the floor would open up and consume her whole.

Leonora swallowed the hard lump in her throat. Rick’s image popped into her head—if only he were there to protect her from the beating she was sure to get. Then again, would he interfere? He had said if he were Challen, he would redden her behind for risking her life. Since she had no excuse to give Challen, she decided it was best to come clean. At least halfway.

She spoke to him as she normally did, telepathically. {I am sorry, Challen. I went against your specific orders and came on this trip. I sincerely felt that I could make a difference. Not caring for your feelings, I simply followed my own instincts. You were right about us not knowing what we were getting ourselves into, or how these humans were unpredictable. At first, they seemed to be our friends. Then they turned against us, killing Leo, Pandor, and Tamiron. Tigif and I are the sole survivors only because there
are
a few good humans, even among their government agents. Brother,
I am very sorry for causing you unjust fear. I cannot imagine how scared you must have been for my safety. All I kept thinking about was how could I ever beg you for forgiveness if I die? How could I tell you thank you for everything that you have done for me, have sacrificed for me, if I no longer existed. I love you, brother, and I am so, so sorry.} She hung her head in shame and cried.

Challen said nothing for a few seconds. It seemed that she had taken him off guard with her words and tears. He went to her and embraced her.

Challen pressed his face into her curls. {If I had lost you, kitten, I would no longer have a reason to go on living.}

Rick and Lance had gone to meet with Anderson who was staying in Fort Irwin. Their plan was to uncover the government’s progress. What they had discovered was that
they
were the center of an investigation.

On their first meeting, Anderson had mentioned he received an anonymous tip about the perpetrators involved with the disappearance of the aliens. The person accused Rick McCall and Lance Blaisdale—two of the government’s top, most-trusted men.

Naturally, he did not believe it, but because of national security, he had to investigate their whereabouts on the night of the break-in. Rick did his best to hide his nervousness throughout the meeting. He was not surprised to see Lance’s calm reaction to Anderson’s interrogation. It was not until after they had left the fort that Lance revealed why.

During his stay at Rick’s beach home, Lance had received a cell phone call from a fellow Shadow member called Viper. Viper, also known as Anthony Pike, had warned Lance that someone had let the cat out of the bag. Lance gave Anthony orders to set plan three into motion. He did not want Rick to worry. Therefore, he had left him in the dark.

Rick led the way through the corridor to their rented hotel room. They just arrived from a third nerve-racking meeting with
Anderson. He plopped in the nearest chair, while Lance poured two glasses of wine. He handed one to Rick before taking a seat on the chair across from him.

“So what do you think?” he asked Rick.

They spoke openly since neither worried about the room being bugged. They had rented the room after the meeting. And since they never rented the same room twice, or went to the same hotel each time, no one actually knew where these two would be sleeping.

Rick was deep in thought, glowering at his wine glass. “I think I’m in deep shit. I think we’re all in deep shit. Whomever that leak was gave them precise information.”

“Too precise,” Lance agreed. “But our alibis will back us up. Plus, our clean records will speak for themselves.”

“I want to know who cracked under pressure.”

Lance’s bottom lip protruded a bit at the spark that ignited in Rick’s eyes. He recognized Rick’s predatory look. He knew without a doubt if Rick got his hands on the informant, it would be the snitch’s last day on Earth. There would be no helping him.

“Do you think it was someone on the team?”

Lance shook his head. “I doubt it. They have just as much to lose as we do. Plus, they wouldn’t want to double-cross either of us. They know better than to do that.”

“Then who else could it be?”

“I don’t know. But we better find out before anymore information leaks through.” Lance calmly scratched his head. “Unfortunately, we can’t even leave or make a move without confirming everything the snitch said about us.”

“You better tell our men to get out. It’s too dangerous.”

“I already have when Brian warned us about what to expect with Anderson.”

“That meeting didn’t go so well. And today’s meeting went even worse.” Rick took a sip of his wine.

“No, it didn’t. But I did get the impression that Anderson didn’t believe the informant.” He sipped his wine. “It’s obvious he has his doubts.”

“Doubts or no doubts, if any more information gets through, we can kiss our asses good-bye.”

The phone rang. Lance lowered his glass onto the center table. He stood and walked toward the desk that was on one side of the living room. He lifted the receiver and answered. It was John Rainfield, better known as Trigger for his uncanny ability to create explosives from virtually anything he could find and how much he enjoyed making them go off.

Only the Shadow Team knew of the handpicked hotels to use when under assignment to throw off anyone who tried to put a tab on them. They each also had a bug detector built into their cars in case someone placed a tracker on their vehicles without their knowledge.

“Control?”

“Control here.”

“It’s Trigger. Viper heard something that might be of interest to you?”

“Go on.”

“Anderson received another phone call. Viper naturally listened in—”

“Get to the point.” He was in no mood for dilly-dallying.

“Well, well. Impatient, aren’t we?”
Rainfield said with a bit of humor in his voice.

That humor was misplaced and inappropriate in Lance’s opinion. Lance rubbed his forehead.

Sobering, Rainfield added,
“Anyway, Anderson is on his way with the army as back up to where the aliens are located.”

Lance’s body jerked. He felt his blood rushing out of his body through the soles of his feet. “How the hell is that possible?”

“Our little informant snitched on the Predator
. Again.”

“Son of a bitch!” Lance hissed, picturing his own hands around the informant’s neck and breaking it.

“What happened? What’s going on?” Rick was instantly brought out of his thoughts at Lance’s swearing. Without a doubt, something was terribly wrong, for Lance only swore when there was trouble. Big trouble.

Lance’s eyelids dropped halfway. “Do you know exactly where this phone call originated from?” He already knew the answer but wanted to make sure.

“I sure do,”
Trigger answered.
"Seeker placed a trace on our little snitch, and the phone call came from California. I have an exact address—”

Lance slammed the receiver down.

“What’s wrong?” Rick placed his glass on the table.

Lance’s focus remained on the phone. “I know the canary who sung.”

“Who?”

“I suspected it from before, but until now, I wasn’t certain.” A thought crossed Lance’s mind. He pulled out his cell phone and scrolled down the list of outgoing calls. He spotted one that he did not recall making. “Fuck!” Lance cursed, calling himself seven kinds of fool for not seeing it before hand, for not checking his phone earlier.

Rick stood from his seat. “Who is it?”

Lance sent him a grave look. “Tigif.” He held up his cell phone. “Bastard used my phone to make the first call. Anderson is on his way to your beach house right as we speak.”

Rick paled. “Nora!” He ran from the hotel room with Lance two steps behind him.

They arrived at Lance’s car. Lance threw his keys to Rick and allowed him to drive. Rick instantly ditched their tail. For the second time in his life, Rick drove like a madman along the highway to his home and his helpless wife.

It was nearing one in the morning. Leonora lay awake in bed, worrying over how much longer Rick was going to be. It was hard convincing her brother to allow her to stay that evening. She used the excuse that Rick would return in the morning. It had worked only because Challen and Jugar had decided to stay with her. She would have to make up an excuse to stay longer if Rick did not arrive, for she had no intentions of leaving her soul mate. But what?

Her door was suddenly thrust open. Even though she was startled, Leonora’s combat instincts kicked-in. She was in a fighting stance before Challen’s form was through the door.

{
Nora, we have to leave. Now!}

{But, Challen, you said—}

He did not let her continue. He grabbed her arm and dragged her into the living room, where the others awaited anxiously for orders.

Leonora fearfully sought her sister-in-law for help. She noticed Carol Ann’s red, swollen lips. Her red lingerie was wrinkled and had several large, wet patches on it. This puzzled Leonora, for Carol Ann never wore anything wrinkle, let alone dirty.

“Commander? Commander are you still there?”
came the nervous question.

Leonora knew the voice was coming from Challen’s wristguard, most likely, from the one he had left in charge of his ship.

Challen quickly spoke into his left bracelet. “Yes. How far are they, Krey?”

Leonora studied her brother’s face and attire as he spoke to his officer. His lips were red and swollen, also. There was a huge wet spot at the center of his silk pants and down his thighs. Her eyes widened.

“Fifteen minutes, Commander.”

Challen rushed toward Carol Ann. Without saying a word, he grabbed her arm. “Transporter Room, I am bringing aboard an extra party. She is one foot beside me. Do you have her on your scanners?”

“Yes, Commander.”
This time it was a feminine voice responding.

“Very good then. Transport.”

Carol Ann was too quick for the transporter beam. By twisting then jerking her arm free, she jumped a good distance away and avoided being teleported onto the mother ship.