INVITING FIRE (A Sydney Rye Novel, #6) (24 page)

"There are other ways to satisfy that part of yourself," he said, his hand wandering up my leg. He stopped at my knee, the blanket bunched up under his hand. "Killing stokes the darkest part of you." I shivered. "Well, so can I."

"Get off of me," I said.

"Death and life are both right there, right beneath all of our thoughts and actions. Oblivion and reproduction."

"Go fuck—" but before I could continue he grabbed my waist with his free arm and pulled me under him, my knife still between us.

"You can leave it there," he said. "I want you to feel safe." Then he bent down and slowly touched his lips to mine. I inhaled, seeming almost to pull him into me.

He kissed me gently at first, touch, back away, touch, back away. I didn't stab him in the soft spot above his collarbone. I didn't even push him away. I opened my mouth when he came close for a third time, just a fraction of an inch. His tongue danced out and touched my top lip, right at the opening, sneaking in and tapping against the softest part of it.

His hand tightened on my waist. Fingers digging into my side. Holding me steady, yet I could easily have gotten away, could have killed him.

"This isn't right," I said.

He smiled. "Since when have you cared about doing what is right?"

"I always care about doing what is right."

"That's why you're such a mess."

"And you're an ass."

"You want to do this."

"I've been dreaming about it," I admitted.

His smile widened. "Well, isn't that just lovely to hear."

"It hurts in my dream."

He squeezed me tighter. "It can hurt here, too."

"Not if I don't let it."

"But don't you want it?"

"I don't let people hurt me."

"I'm the only person you can be yourself with, Sydney. Don't you see that yet?"

"That's not true."

"You can't show this dark part of yourself to Mulberry, to Dan, they would hate you for it."

I pushed up, getting away from him. He let me, his eyebrows conferencing. "That's not true," I said. "They both see me. It's you who’s confused about what I am."

"And you, perhaps," he said, sitting back, taking his injured hand and holding it close to the light.

"I know who I am."

He turned to me and smiled. "Then how come I'm still alive?"

B
lue was nudging me. I blinked and he was standing over me, morning light filtering into the cave. I closed my eyes and Bobby was still there by the small candle flame, blood dripping off his hand. I opened my eyes and Blue was there, he nudged me again and looked toward the cave's exit. He wanted to go out. It had been a dream. I looked over at Bobby's sleeping area, but it was empty. He'd already woken up.

I nodded to Blue and he ran out of the cave. I threw my forearm across my eyes, not wanting to dream anymore, just hoping for some more sleep. But it wasn't going to happen. I couldn't sleep, I couldn't think. I needed to get out of there. I threw off my sleeping bag and sat up. We only had a couple of more hours. Soon we'd be at our rendezvous and there was no peace brokered. No battles won. As I scrunched up my sleeping bag, pushing it back into its sack, I wondered if maybe there was no winning or losing. Was it all war? I listened to the sounds of the jungle around me and realized that lasting peace did not exist and never would. Hate and Passion, Good and Evil were all linked and the same. As were Life and Death. Peace and War. Chaos and Order.

Bobby came in then, holding a steaming cup. "Want some coffee?" he asked.

"I've got my own," I answered.

He shrugged. I looked at his hand, it wasn't cut. It had felt so real. I had pushed him off. Finally, even in my dreams I didn't want him and all the dark places he represented to me. But did I really believe in my dream self? Blue did. He knew what I was. Even when I was hallucinating and had no idea what was happening, Blue knew me. He took care of me. And for some reason he now trusted Robert Maxim, I thought as Blue came running back in and sat next to Robert, leaning on him the same way he did me or Dan or Mulberry.

"You okay, Sydney?" Bobby asked, looking down at me.

"You can join us," I said.

"That's an awfully big decision for someone who hasn't even had their coffee yet."

"You're right. You'd be an incredible asset."

Maxim sat down at the cave's entrance, stretching his long legs out in front of him and leaning against the mouth of the dwelling. Blue went out and began sniffing around the fire pit.

"Great," Maxim said.

"So we can go home now," I said.

"To your camp?"

"Do you know where it is?"

He smiled.

"We're on the same team now,” I reminded him. “You can tell me if you know."

"I know."

"Were you there?"

"Yes. Blue found me." He nodded his head toward Blue who was trotting into the jungle.

I felt relief, another example of me not being crazy. Bobby scratched under his chin. His beard was growing in thick now. What had started as a dark stubble peppered with silver was longer and bushier. "You think that's a good idea? Taking me home."

"You think we need to ease people into this idea. Into you joining the team?"

"I may need to prove myself."

"And how would you do that?" I asked, figuring he had a plan. Didn't the man always have a plan?

He smiled. "I've always found large amounts of money to be helpful in situations like this."

I laughed. "Well, we do have that in common."

Bobby laughed. "I have so much more money than you," he said, shaking his head.

"And you'll have even more by the end of this week."

"That's right."

"And you'll use it for good?"

"And to woo you."

I laughed. "That is insane," I said, standing up, holding my coffee-making utensils.

"Well, Mulberry wanted to see me try, sounds like he is going to get his chance."

"Whatever," I said, walking past him to the fire. He already had a pot of coffee on so instead of making my own I poured myself a cup of his.

W
e reached the rendezvous point at 1 pm. It was an abandoned lodge. Smaller than the eco-resort Joyful Justice operated out of and in much worse condition. It sat at the top of a rise, a view of miles of jungle and in the very hazy distance, the shimmer of the ocean. Maxim led the way past a half-filled pool. The water was green and creatures splashed into it as we approached. Vines snaked across the patio and plants pushed through from the ground below. Mother Nature came back with a vengeance once man's ambitions were abandoned.

Bobby kept walking past the entrance. "Where are you going?" I asked, taking off my pack and dropping it near the abandoned lobby. There were no doors anymore, the high- ceilinged space was open to the elements. As I looked into the opening I saw it was overrun with jungle plants, just like the pool. A capuchin monkey, his face white and body black, peered at me from one of the vines that dropped over the entrance. He cocked his head when he looked at Blue, who barked at the little creature. It showed its teeth and hissed at him, backing deeper into the building, disappearing from our sight. I didn't particularly want to go in there and, looking over at Maxim, figured he was right that we should wait outside.

I left my bag at the entrance and followed Bobby as he moved back into the thick jungle at the edge of the property. Soon I heard the babbling of a brook. Bobby reached it first and dropping his pack, began rolling up his sleeve. Blue walked in to where it just covered his paws and leaned down to drink.

The stream was narrow and surrounded by trees with long, broad leaves that flopped toward the water as it dipped down rocks and coursed over tree roots. Bobby kneeled next to it and, reaching behind a rock, pulled out a bottle of champagne. I laughed. "Wow," I said. "You're awfully full of yourself, aren't you?"

"I think it's best to be prepared," he answered grinning.

"You're proud of yourself," I said, watching as he put the champagne down into a moss patch. He didn't answer me, just opened up his bag and began rifling through.

"Here," he said, pulling out a champagne flute and holding it out to me.

I laughed again. "Seriously," I said.

"Just take it," he countered. I did, looking down at the delicate stem. How did he keep them and eggs all intact in his bag? My clothing had barely survived the crush. All my protein bars were split into chunks. Bobby reached in and pulled out another glass. Its stem was broken and I couldn't help but smile. He looked over at me and shrugged, holding it out for me to take. "You can't win them all," he said, closing up his bag again.

Maxim threw his pack back onto his back and then started toward the lodge carrying the champagne. Blue came running out of the stream and raced passed us, sprinkling water as he went. Once out in front he circled back, his ears flat to his head, tail wildly wagging as he barreled back in our direction. He brushed up against my leg as he sped past, leaving a wet patch. We continued onto the patio of the abandoned building.

The cement pad was cracked and fissures filled with green carved up the wide space. Bobby stared toward the entrance and I paused. "You want to go in there?" I asked.

He turned back to me. "You're not scared are you?"

"No," I said. "But what's the point?"

"There is an amazing view from the second floor balcony. I want to show it to you," he said, dropping his pack next to mine. I looked past him into the dark space. Bobby held his hand out to me. "Come on," he said.

"I don't need to hold your hand," I said, walking past him toward the entrance. Blue ran ahead of me, his nose low to the ground, hackles puffed. He went in first and I was right behind him. Boards covered the windows. Sharp lines of light shot through the cracks forged by plants in the aged plywood. I heard movement and turned to see another capuchin monkey hanging onto the rail of a spiral staircase to our left. He ran up the railing, his tail high, crying out a warning. Craning my head up, I saw that the roof was a skylight. It was domed and criss-crossed with metal. Some of the panes were broken out and vines dipped into the space, curling around and growing toward the floor. It looked almost like a chandelier.

Bobby stopped next to me. "He doesn't like you," he said, looking over at the monkey. He was at the top of the steps now, pacing back and forth, his tail high. The stairs led to a mezzanine floor. The railing that followed under the dome of the skylight was covered in plants, green and persistent. Bobby started toward the staircase. "You sure those are structurally sound?" I asked as Blue moved toward them.

"Absolutely," he answered, his pace not slowing. I followed after him. As we climbed I looked back down at the floor below. It was covered in dirt and animal droppings, but I could see that underneath was white marble. Bobby led me into a dark hallway. I heard movement in front of us and Blue growled a warning. "It's just monkeys," Bobby said and as if to prove his point, they began to chatter at each other.

At the end of the hall Bobby stopped in front of a door. It was no longer straight in its frame. Sunlight leaked in from the gaps but there were two boards nailed up against it. Bobby turned to me and held out the champagne bottle. I took it. The bottle was cold and wet. I relished the feel of it against my hot skin.

Maxim turned back to the door and used his hands to pull the boards off. They were rotted and fell away easily. Then he put his shoulder against the door and knocked it open, stumbling a little as the sun poured over us. It took my eyes a moment to adjust but then I could see that Bobby was right. The view was spectacular.

He took the champagne bottle back from me and crossed the wide balcony toward the view. There were abandoned chaise lounges, their wooden frames rotted, dotting the balcony. I followed Bobby and looked past him over the sea of trees to the horizon where water glinted in the late afternoon sun. "The sunsets from here are spectacular," Maxim said.

"I bet," I said. "But we'll be gone by then."

He smiled. "Yes, another time perhaps." He unwound the cage on the champagne bottle.

"You come here often?" I asked.

He looked around. "I like jungles," he said. "Got my start in them, really." He twisted the cork and it released with a satisfying pop. A small plume of white floated out of the bottle as he held it up.

"How's that?" I asked, offering him my glass.

"The FARC," he said as he poured the bubbling beverage in, stopping just before the foam reached the brim.

"You worked with the FARC?" I asked as he filled the other flute, the one without the stem.

"I was kidnapped by them," he said, putting the bottle on the ground. Bobby took the broken glass from me. "But I turned it to my advantage," he smiled, holding up his flute. "To new beginnings," he said.

"To justice," I countered.

Bobby smiled and nodded his head before touching the lip of his glass to mine. We both sipped, not breaking eye contact. A monkey chattered from the doorway and I turned to see two of them. They ran across to the chaise lounges and then climbed up onto them, turning to face us. One held his tail and they both watched us.

Blue growled and a second later I heard a helicopter. I saw on Bobby's face that he'd heard it, too. He frowned and cocked his head. "They’re early," I said.

His eyes narrowed. "Maybe," he answered, moving back toward the building.

"What is it?" I asked. He didn't answer, just took my arm and pulled me back over to the broken door and into the hallway. Blue followed us. Bobby pushed me down the hall a little and then turned back to look out the door as the sound of the rotors grew louder.

"That sound like your copter?" he asked.

"Sounds like three or four to me," I said. "Your ride?"

He shook his head. "No, I've got seven coming."

"Seven?" I said. "Why?"

"I like to be prepared," he said. A Black Hawk helicopter came into view. There were men standing on the outside. He pushed me down the hall dropping his champagne glass as he walked. It shattered and joined the other debris on the floor, the crystal picking up the sun streaming through the door. I dropped mine and began to run as Bobby pushed me forward.