Holcroft shook his head. Rome still wasn’t acting rationally. Was he deluded? Or desperate? He remembered the way the man had put a threatening hand on his gun. Right now the safest course was to humor him. He held up a flashlight and peered into Jed’s face.
“What should we do for them?” he questioned.
Michael shook his head. “Damn it, she didn’t tell me that. All we can do is keep them warm. Sponge this goop off. How long before we get to a hospital?”
“From this side of the island, two or three hours.”
Michael knelt and pressed his fingers against the artery in Jessica’s neck. At first he felt nothing. He was about to give up when he detected a faint throb. Twenty seconds later there was another.
“I’ve got something. It’s unbelievably slow. But—”
Holcroft turned to the sink and filled the kettle. When the water was hot, he and Michael each took a bowl and a towel. Holcroft worked on Jed. Michael took care of Jessica.
“His color’s better,” Holcroft remarked, his voice sounding as if he still didn’t believe the evidence of his eyes. “And I’m feeling a pulse. Very slow, but getting stronger. It’s weird.”
Michael bent closer to Jessica for a better look at the knife wound. It was slanted precisely to follow a black line painted on her skin; it seemed as if the priestess had used it for a guide and worked with a surgeon’s precision.
“Check out where the knife went into Jed’s chest,” he directed. “Is there a black mark?”
“Uh-huh.” Holcroft’s brow wrinkled. “Do you suppose she could have put the blade in so it would miss vital organs?”
“I hope so.” Michael pressed his fingers against Jessica’s neck again. Her pulse was stronger and more regular and her skin was warming. She was coming back to life under his touch! Hope swelled in his chest. God, let her be all right, he prayed silently as he tenderly sponged the hateful paint from her body.
They continued to work in silence. Michael pausing every few minutes to check Jessica’s pulse. It was still far below anything approaching normal, but it was getting steadily stronger.
Twenty minutes later a startled exclamation from Holcroft brought Michael across the lounge. The CIA agent was staring down at the man on the bunk in disbelief. As Michael watched, Jed’s eyelids fluttered. His lids opened, closed, and then opened again. His eyes were dilated, but they swung toward Michael. His lips moved but no sound came out.
“Easy. You’re safe.”
“Rome. You old coyote. What took you so long?” The voice was barely above a whisper.
Michael looked at Holcroft. “He’s his usual cheery self.”
“Jessica told me—” He stopped abruptly. “Is she?”
“Right here,” Michael assured him. “Not quite as far along as you.”
Jed closed his eyes.
“Just rest,” Holcroft told him. “We’ll get you to the hospital.”
The man on the bunk seemed to be drifting for a moment. Abruptly his eyes snapped open. “That bastard Talifero?”
Michael shrugged. “I saw him go down.”
“Good,” Jed spat out.
“The clinic went up in an explosion. I think maybe Xavier—Talifero’s chemist—blew up the lab.”
“What makes you think so?” Holcroft questioned.
“The priestess. She mentioned Xavier. Told me they had something cooked up together.”
Jed stirred restlessly.
“Do you need something?”
“Water. Nothing to eat and only a little to drink in days.”
Holcroft swore vehemently and turned toward the sink. He could only imagine what this man had endured. He was back quickly with a cup of water. “Better take it easy,” he advised as he supported Jed’s shoulders and held the cup to his lips. After a few swallows the weakened man closed his eyes.
“Thanks,” he whispered.
Michael and Holcroft exchanged glances.
“I’m sorry. You were right,” the CIA man acknowledged.
“Yeah. Forget it.”
A low exclamation from the other side of the cabin made them both turn.
“Michael.” Swiftly he crossed the deck and knelt beside Jessica again. He could see she wasn’t quite awake. But she was calling him. After everything that had happened, she was still calling for him.
“Michael...”
“Right here.” He took her hand, chafed the cool flesh. She still didn’t seem to know he was there and moved restlessly on the bunk.
Leaning closer, he pulled the blanket tenderly up around her shoulders and smoothed back the wreath of auburn curls around her face. His voice was low, murmuring soft, reassuring words.
She calmed under his touch, but for several minutes she continued to struggle toward consciousness. Then her lids fluttered open. Like Jed’s, her eyes were dilated.
“Jess, oh, Jess. Thank God.”
She tried to raise her arm toward him.
“Don’t move, baby.” He knelt closer, gathered her in his embrace, held her tightly. Tears filled his eyes as he brushed his lips against her cheek, her forehead.
“I thought I wouldn’t get a chance to tell you I love you,” she whispered. Every word was an effort, yet she had to speak.
“I thought that too, baby.” His voice was husky. “I thought I’d lost you. I love you, too.”
She closed her eyes, hugging the words to herself. Then her lids fluttered open, and she searched his face. “Was it that hard to admit?”
“Yeah. A Herculean task. I’ve never said that to anyone before.” He bent again to nuzzle his cheek against hers and trail his lips across her forehead, feeling her skin warm even as he caressed her.
Her hand came up to touch his shoulder. He knew how much effort it must have cost her and pressed his fingers over hers. Everything he’d said to her about his life was still true, yet the idea of giving her up made him feel as desperate as he had when he’d awakened in that tomb. Could they really work things out? Finally he had admitted to himself how much he wanted to.
Holcroft stared at the emotional scene with sudden understanding. He’d caught tension between Rome and Jessica but hadn’t associated it with a personal involvement. Now it explained a lot about Rome’s losing his cool. Turning, Holcroft tiptoed up the stairs to the deck, giving Michael and Jessica privacy. Besides, he still had work to do. He needed to get a message to the backup team Rome had put on alert. They were going to have a lot of cleaning up to do on Royale Verde—like finding out what had happened to Talifero, Gorlov, and Xavier.
* * *
J
ESSICA LOOKED OUT
the floor-to-ceiling windows of the solarium. On the wide lawn at the back of the Aviary, Michael and a much-improved Jed Prentiss were tossing a football back and forth. The mid-October day was warm. Though both men had come out in sweatclothes, they’d soon discarded their hooded jackets. Once again Jessica admired the ripple of muscles in Michael’s arm and back as he reached up to snag a high pass. Just watching Michael Rome stirred her senses in a way she’d never felt before.
He caught her appraisal and waved, motioning her to come out. She opened the door and stepped onto the terrace, feeling like a student stealing a few minutes of relaxation between final exams. She’d already had several extensive debriefings with Connie in which she’d given her accounts of the events on Royale Verde the week before. She’d also learned some of the aftermath of their last night on the island. Both the lab and clinic had burned to the ground, but the staff had been able to evacuate most of the patients. Inland waterways had contained the fire to Devil’s Point.
Jed jumped to catch the ball and missed. “You’re getting old, Prentiss,” Michael gibed good-naturedly.
“Not too bad for a zombie,” Jed retorted.
“Speak for yourself,” Michael advised, “but Jessica’s no zombie.” He put his arm around her and pulled her close.
“Maybe not, Michael old man. But what about you? I’ll bet you’re the only Peregrine agent who’s ever been encrypted.”
Michael snorted. “How long did it take you to think up that one?”
“All week, or you would have heard it sooner.”
“You two are beyond belief,” Jessica marveled. She turned to Jed. “What you need is some lunch. Connie asked me to come and get you.”
“I’ll go for that.” He’d been industriously putting back on the weight Talifero had starved off him.
They all started toward the house, the two men still tossing the football back and forth.
“We’ll change and meet you in the dining room,” Michael advised her.
As the men turned away, Jessica thought about the zombie remark. They might never know exactly what Simone had given them, but the Jamaican doctor had offered a theory. The potion she’d forced them to drink had apparently intensified the body’s natural reaction to injury. Under normal circumstances, the knife wounds would have sent both her and Jed into shock. The drug had magnified that reaction a thousand times—closing down functions so that they had been catapulted into a state of catatonia.
Jessica shuddered. The ruse had saved her life, but it had been a terrifying experience she’d never forget.
Shaking the unsettling thoughts from her head, she watched the two men head for the stairs. It was hard not to be envious of their easy camaraderie. They knew where they stood with each other. Despite the emotional conversation on the boat and the joy of their lovemaking this past week, she and Michael still hadn’t been able to talk about the future.
After lunch the Falcon suggested that they adjourn to the library. “I’m sure you’re all eager for the latest intelligence on this case,” he surmised.
There was a chorus of agreement around the room.
“Well, let’s start with unfinished business. I have confirmation on the identify of Talifero’s body. But Gorlov is still missing. He could be among the bodies burned beyond recognition. We do know, however, from intelligence reports that the advisors and arms in Cuba have been shipped home. Apparently Moscow has abandoned their plans for a Royale Verde takeover.
“Xavier was another unknown,” the Falcon continued. “But the forensic unit has finally confirmed the identify of the body found near the lab. The chemist isn’t going to be processing any more Dove. His last actions ensured that no one else will either. Everything went up in the explosion, including his notes.”
“Simone Villard won’t be dabbling in voodoo medicine either,” Connie added.
Next to Michael on the couch, Jessica shuddered. He reached out for her hand and squeezed it reassuringly.
“She was so mixed up,” Jessica murmured. “She’s the one whose betrayal almost got Michael killed. But in the end she saved Jed’s and my life. She wasn’t all bad.”
“We’ve uncovered some of her involvement with Talifero,” Connie continued. “It goes back more than ten years. She was too young to know what she was getting into at the time. Once he had a hold on her, she couldn’t break it. At first she saw Xavier’s discoveries as a way of getting Talifero off her back, but it just got her in deeper.”
The Falcon looked over at Jessica. “Lonnie Milstead got away too, but he surfaced in New Orleans thinking that he could call in some favors. He was wrong. The drug community works strictly on a cash-and-carry basis. Lieutenant Devine picked Milstead up a few days ago.”
“Thank God he’s off the streets.”
“Talifero was powerful enough to set him up in business and give him some protection. With his sponsor gone, he was left twisting in the wind. When they booked him on murder one for his buddy Joe Valenchi’s death, he decided to plea bargain.”
“What’s he had to say?” Michael questioned.
“He’s supplied names and addresses of a major portion of the Dove distribution ring in the Crescent City. He’s also revealed his connection to Bergman at the university. According to his statement, the chairman of the chemistry department was the one who asked him to take care of Aubrey.”
Jessica’s fingers tightened on Michael’s. “I hope they lock them both up for good.”
“Devine’s working on it.” The Falcon went on to give some more details. When the meeting finally broke up, the Peregrine chief asked Jessica to stay for a moment.
She glanced at Michael. “I’ll be out back,” he told her.
When they were alone, Gordon leaned back in his leather chair. “Do you have any idea what I want to ask you?”
She laughed nervously. “You’ve been broadcasting it at me all afternoon.”
“You have a unique talent that the Peregrine Connection could make good use of. I know that your recent experience has been pretty traumatic, but I wonder if you’d be willing to consider joining us as a consultant.”
“I have to think about it.”
“The offer is open.” Though he wanted to, he wouldn’t press her harder now.
“I’ll let you know.”
When she closed the door to the library, she took a deep breath. The Falcon had spoken of her talent. She’d spent years trying to deny that special ability. Now that was impossible. She was never going to step back into the shoes of the person she’d been a month ago. Where did that leave her? And more specifically, where did it leave her with Michael?
Outside she found him leaning against an oak tree and looking out toward the mountains, a pensive expression on his face. His hands were jammed into the pockets of his jeans and one snakeskin boot was propped against the tree trunk. She smiled, knowing she was seeing the real Michael Rome and not one of the personas he so often portrayed. Then her expression sobered. Maybe now was the time for the talk they’d been avoiding.
He looked up as she approached.
“I could go the conventional route and offer you a penny for your thoughts,” she began. “Or I could play Mr. Spock and try a Vulcan mind meld.”
“I’m not sure I’m quite ready for that.”
“I didn’t think so.”
They regarded each other for a moment. “Michael, I can’t turn it off. For years I repressed that part of myself. That doesn’t work anymore. I think I can come to terms with it. Can you?”
His words weren’t exactly the answer she wanted. “Jess, how would you feel if you never knew whether I was going to be peeking into your mind, catching some thought you didn’t want me to catch?”
“I don’t know. I suppose it would be difficult, require adjustments. It would mean I’d always have to be honest with you.”
She was the most honest person he knew. “Baby, I want to be. Just don’t be disappointed if I fall short of the mark sometimes.” His face became more gentle. “But being open to you does have its compensations. Like when my shoulders hurt and you come over and rub the exact spot that needs attention. Or when we’re making love, and I feel as if your soul is merging with mine.”