Beowulf: Explosives Detection Dog (48 page)

Even as she beat a path through the trails, the emotional energy beat her heart to dust. Where had she gone wrong? Why couldn’t she do it right?

Cold, crisp air smacked her cheeks as she wound her way through the rocky trail that circled the A Breed Apart ranch. Timbrel jogged around a cedar tree and ducked to avoid a scraggly limb. As she came up, another caught her cheek. She hissed as it seared a path along her face, but she kept running.

Timbrel pushed on, the fire from the workout reminding her she was alive. That she had survived. Survived rape. Survived combat. Survived the night that had killed one man and taken Tony’s leg.

And Tony.

She rounded a corner and swerved to avoid a blur of blue. Shoulders collided. “Sorry!” Timbrel whirled around to the man she’d about toppled. “Jibril,” she breathed raggedly. “Sorry, you okay?”

“Of course.” His hand went to his leg, but his smile never faded.

“Can I ask you a question?”

“Of course.”

“How do I get through to Tony?”

Jibril blinked.

And she realized how stupid her question was. And that she’d only asked Jibril because he had lost his leg, too. Which was idiotic to think he would know Tony’s inner workings just because of the common injury.

“Ya know what? Never mind.” She pivoted and started running again.

“Timbrel!”

No, she really didn’t want to talk about it. Didn’t want to admit her foolishness, admit that she couldn’t get over Tony. She was as pathetic as her mother.

Only Mom is now gaga over an Indian
.

Weird. Totally weird
. Not that he was Indian, but the sincerity with which her mom approached the relationship. Not lighthearted and flirtatious. Something … different. And mercy, she had to admit it ate her insides thinking that her mom had found someone special when Timbrel’s someone special—at least she thought Tony was special—wasn’t happening.

It was stupid. Pathetic. Idiotic.

This was why she didn’t date. This was why she wrote off men two years ago.

They just brought hurt and heartache. As she returned to the house, Timbrel slowed her jogging pace. Swallowed against her dry throat and lifted Beo’s Kong. “Ready, boy?”

He barked.

She flung it back the way they’d come.

He tore off after it, and she could not help but stand there and admire his strength and agility.
That
guy had never let her down. Not once. Seconds later, he tore around the corner, Kong in mouth, and bounded right up to her, skidding to a stop.

Timbrel thumped his sides and praised him. She flung it toward the training yard and sent him running. She’d grab the jacket she’d shed to run and would run him through some training maneuvers. As he tore off, she made her way up the slope to the terraced pool area.

“Yes, the National.”

The male voice slowed her. Slinking along the sun-warmed bricks of the south wall, she eyed around the corner.

Takkar stood by a tree, talking into his cell phone. “Yes. They will all be there. Bashir, this is your one chance … yes, of course … no, I can make no guarantees, save one. If you do these things, if you bring them, you will never have such a prime opportunity to strike at the heart of the Great Satan.”

“You can start,” Timbrel stepped into the open, “with this demon right here.”

Returning to the A Breed Apart ranch wasn’t part of his plan.

But God had a sense of humor. His father had once told him, “If you want to make God laugh, tell Him your plans.” But sure as fire, God would show you why your plans didn’t work or would send you spiraling in the opposite direction.

Avowed to stay away from this place, away from Timbrel and her pity, this was the last place Tony wanted to be. Rika jumped out of the truck and bounded toward the yard. She obviously remembered the place. Tony had no sooner opened the gate to the yard than he heard shouts up the hill.

He turned and eyed the brick patio, the lip of it just discernible from this angle.

Shouts.
Timbrel
.

Tony let the gate shut, assured Rika would be fine in the pen, and hustled up the incline. His prosthesis wasn’t as fluid as his natural leg, but he’d learned how to compensate and run with it. He reached the top and found Timbrel in a loud argument with—wait! Was that the guy from her mom’s house?

Tony rushed forward. Where was her dog? No way Beowulf wouldn’t be standing guard, snapping his challenge at the guy. “Timbrel!”

She spun, her face washing from fury to shock. She took a step back. Her gaze struck his leg, and he gritted his teeth. “Tony.”

A sliding noise delivered Khaterah, Nina, and Jibril to the shouting match.

“Mr. VanAllen,” the guy said as he wrapped an arm around Nina. So, things hadn’t changed much there.

“What’s going on here?” Tony slowed his walk, noting the sweat rubbing his prosthetic sock against his knee stub. He moved next to Timbrel and eyed her. “You okay?”

“I heard Takkar making threats against the gala, against all of us.”

“I did no such thing.” Calm and poised, Takkar made a powerful statement for his position just in the way he presented himself.

Tim, on the other hand, looked erratic and sounded worse. “Who were you talking to? It was Bashir Karzai, wasn’t it?”

Tony couldn’t help but check Takkar’s response. But the guy was an impenetrable fortress. Information behind that face didn’t get out easily, Tony had a feeling.

“Audrey, that’s none of your business,” Nina said.

“It’s absolutely my business when he’s telling whoever he talked to that our gala would be the perfect opportunity to strike at the heart of the Great Satan.”

Whoa. Hold up, chief
. “Timbrel.” Tony caught her arm. “Can I talk to you?”

“No.” Her irises flared with fury. “No, I want to—”

“Now.” He didn’t mean to order her, but Timbrel had no idea the cauldron she might’ve stepped into. But she should’ve. She knew how delicate things like this were. “Sorry, Mr. Takkar. Miss Laurens.” He turned to Timbrel. “Where’s Beowulf?”

Her gaze whipped around the pool. “Beo!” She pointed at Takkar. “We need to talk.” She hurried off, calling her dog.

Tony eyed Jibril, trying to convey there was some serious trouble but that he’d isolate Timbrel, try to find out what happened. Jibril gave a slow nod.

“Mr. VanAllen,” Nina called as Tony started after Timbrel.

He turned and looked over his shoulder at her.

“She’s had a rough time. Especially today—go easy on her.”

“Ma’am,” Tony said, a little annoyed at her words. “Timbrel’s a grown woman. I’m not looking to do anything but talk to her.”

Tony’s gaze hit Takkar’s. Injected a heavy dose of “eyes on you” into that second, then went after Timbrel. As he banked right around the back of the house, she stepped from among a cluster of bushes.

And man. She still had that killer attitude and confidence. “Where is he?”

“Haven’t seen Beo since I got here.”

“No,” she said as he closed the gap. “Takkar. He’s planning—”

Tony caught her arm. “Hold up.”

She swung toward him. Used her other hand to break his hold. “Get off me.”

Hands up, Tony paused. “Timbrel, you can’t do anything about this.”

“Wanna bet? I am not going to stand idly by when the person who ripped off your leg—” She clamped her mouth shut. Eyes wide. She swallowed. “I’m sorry.”

Ironically, he found guilty pleasure in the way she’d gotten so riled up on his behalf. “It’s okay.”

“Tony, I am not going to stand by while that man makes another attempt on people I love”—again, she clamped her mouth shut as those gorgeous brown eyes gauged him—“people I care about.”

Nah, I kinda liked the first try
. Did she really still feel that way? After what he’d done?

“They’re planning something for the gala. I can’t just let that happen. I have to stop him.”

“Not like this.” Tony nodded toward the terrace where the A Breed Apart members stood with Takkar. “They like him. He’s got allies here. If you go in there making accusations …”

“They aren’t accusations. I
heard
him.”

“Timbrel, come down to the training yard with me.”

She scowled. “Why?”

Man, she had attitude. “Because they can hear you.”

“So?”

“Who does it look like they’re listening to? Your shouts or his soft words?”

Her eyes worked the scene. Came to his. Hurt marched across her face, but she shoved it aside. “Fine. Training yard.”

That’s my girl
.

Tony tucked aside the thought. “Did you find Beo?”

“Yeah.” Timbrel flipped her hand toward the fenced-in area. “Saw him trot into the yard a few minutes ago.”

Tony stopped. “The training yard?” He eyed the area.

“Yeah.” Timbrel glanced at him then frowned. “Why?”

Heart in his throat, Tony sprinted to the yard. “Call him. Call your dog,” he shouted as he ripped open the gate.

“Beo, heel.”

Dear God!
That hound of hell was mean as all get-out and was in the yard with his girl. Tony rushed into the center of the obstacle area. He’d taken four steps when Beowulf came trotting toward them, looking a little sly.

Tony surveyed the equipment. Where was she? “Rika. Come, girl.”

“What are you so—?”

A shadow broke from one of the mock houses. Rika scurried to his side. “Good, girl.” Tony rewarded her with a treat.

“Who is that?” Timbrel asked.

“This is Rika, my girl.”

“Your girl? Since when?”

“Since Jibril brought her to me a month ago.” Tony smirked at her. “You sound jealous.”

Timbrel rolled her eyes. “I have him”—she pointed to her stud—“and you seriously think I’ll be jealous of that ball of fluff?”

Ruffling Rika’s long coat, Tony nodded. “With this dark hair and gorgeous red highlights, she’s stunning. Sweet. Sleeps with me.” He grinned, enjoying the taunts. “So, absolutely.”

“Sleeps with you? Says the man who vowed a dog would never do that.” Timbrel almost smiled. “Look, I don’t have time for this. Takkar is plotting something, and I’m not going to let it happen.”

“What’re you going to do? Go up there and subdue him?”

Timbrel spun on him. “Don’t—”

“What proof do you have?”

“I heard him!”

Tony shrugged. She had to see that rushing into this would be disastrous. “That’s hearsay. Not proof.”

Her anger exploded over her face. “Just because you don’t like me anymore doesn’t mean my thoughts are invalid.”

Tony stuck out his jaw. “No, I’m the invalid.”

Shock made her mouth gape. “How in the name of all that’s holy did you go from my invalid thoughts to your injury?”

“Your actions shout it, just as they did in the hospital.”

“Don’t you dare put this off on me, Tony VanAllen. I’m not the one feeling sorry for you. Never have. Yes, it broke my heart to see you wounded, to watch you bleeding out that morning in Afghanistan. But I never—
never
—treated you less than the hero I know you to be. Yes, it took my thick head a little longer than most to figure out how I felt, but it wasn’t pity that pushed me. It was the thought of not having you that did.”

Tony’s gut churned.

“So, if you want an excuse to fail, then do it on your own. Because the man I fell in love with doesn’t play the coward.”

A vicious warning bark sailed through the yard. One of those that happened among dogs when one exerted its alpha role and demanded the other “back off!”

Tony jerked to the side.

Beowulf, tail between his legs, head down, slunk back toward Timbrel. In the middle of the yard with her head up and withers spread in dominance, Rika stood as if daring Beowulf to come back. Beowulf stopped halfway across the yard, glanced back at Rika, then hurried his little brindled rear toward Timbrel.

Disbelief corkscrewed Tony. “I think we both just got our manhood handed to us.”

An eternity had passed since she left me, or so it seemed. Taken to God Himself because she was an angel. The world felt colder, darker without her smile and laughter. And yet …

A breeze pushed the curtains aside, giving me a glimpse of the clouds that shielded the moon from my eyes. Just as death had shielded Nafisa from my touch.