Snakeroot (21 page)

By the time the new mission had been settled on, Connor was kicking himself for not having just strolled up to the house and dragged Logan out of it. Instead it was three hours later and Connor was watching Mikaela weave a door to Montauk for the second time that night.

At least this door was closer. Connor stepped through the portal and onto the snow-covered lawn.

Sensing Ethan and Shiloh at his flank, Connor said, “Let’s go.”

Mikaela closed the door behind them. This time she would remain in the safe confines of the Academy. They only needed one Weaver to get back and it had been decided that a more experienced Searcher was better suited to that task.

The trio moved quietly and swiftly up the stairs and onto the terrace. The lights were on inside the house, but the living room was empty. With Shiloh and Ethan covering him, Connor went to the door and was surprised to find it unlocked. He waved for the other Strikers to follow him inside.

Though Connor didn’t see anyone, the house had signs of being recently occupied. Unfinished cocktails sat on the coffee table. Music filtered through speakers surrounding the room.

It’s the middle of the night,
Connor told himself to counteract the sinking feeling in his stomach.
They’re in bed.

Signaling Ethan and Shiloh to secure the main floor, Connor made his way up the stairs. He searched the master suite and two bedrooms, finding them all empty.

He’s gone. Damn it all. He’s really gone.

Deflated, Connor headed back downstairs.

Ethan was waiting in the living room. “Anything?”

“No,” Connor answered. “They’re not here.”

“We should search the grounds,” Ethan said. “I sent Shiloh to call in the other teams.”

Evidence of Ethan’s words arrived in the unpleasant form of Holt.

“What do you mean they’re not here?” Holt stormed into the living room. “I thought you had good intelligence about this place.”

“We did.” Connor checked his temper. He didn’t want to give Holt the chance to place the blame on Anika.

“Then can you explain why three Keepers would up and leave their house at two in the morning?” Holt had the sort of face that became tomato red when he was upset. From the current shade of Holt’s cheeks, Connor discerned that he was very, very upset.

“Holt!” One of the Pyralis Strikers came running into the room. “We found something.”

“Show me.” Holt grabbed the Striker by the elbow and was out the door immediately.

Ethan half groaned. “We better follow him.”

Connor nodded and they went out into the night.

A group of Searchers, and it appeared to be most of the teams, had gathered on the beach.

“Do you think they’re having a clambake?” Connor joked, but he couldn’t shake the bad feeling that rattled his bones.

“No threat?” Holt had apparently seen whatever there was to see and now pushed his way through Searchers to confront Connor and Ethan. “All Keepers are monsters.”

“We need a little more information before we can agree or disagree with you,” Ethan answered. He rather indelicately knocked Holt out of the way.

Connor followed Ethan into the small crowd. They were looking at a body.

The girl’s throat had been cut deeply and cleanly. No doubt she’d died within the space of a minute. And Connor recognized her.

Ethan said it first. “She was in the living room.”

“I know.” Connor turned away, not wanting to see the girl’s glassy eyes for another second.

“Do you agree with me now?” Holt thrust himself in Connor’s path.

“Haven’t decided,” Connor told him. “That girl was with Logan and another boy. My money was on her being one of them. Her being dead on the beach doesn’t quite add up.”

“What more do you need to know than that she’s dead?” Holt argued. “Obviously murdered.”

Connor couldn’t deny that. The girl had died violently. What Connor didn’t understand was why.

What are you up to, Logan?

Holt gave up on Connor and returned to the beach. Ethan fell into step beside his friend.

“What do you make of it?”

Connor just shook his head.

“I know,” Ethan said quietly. “I know.”

Behind them, Holt’s voice rose to compete with the waves hitting the shore. Connor couldn’t make out what he was saying, but he didn’t expect he’d want to hear it anyway.

Loud voices rose to answer Holt’s shouting. The shouts became a chant, and Connor turned around.

“What the—”

He grabbed Ethan’s arm and jerked them both out of the path of the sudden onslaught of Searchers tearing up from the beach. Paying no mind to Connor or Ethan, the mob surged into the house. The sounds of breaking glass and smashing objects joined their frenzied cries.

Ethan started toward the house, but Connor held him back.

“That’s a riot, friend,” Connor said. “Better not get in its way.”

“Are you telling me you’re okay with that happening?” Ethan glared at him.

“Far from it,” Connor replied. “But going in there now would be like trying to calm a rabid dog by petting it. We’ll deal with this, but not now.”

While a sizable group of Searchers had taken up with Holt in destroying the house, Connor was reassured to see others hanging back. When he spotted the Weaver from Eydis, Hernan, among them, he quietly rounded up Shiloh and Ethan.

They couldn’t stop the violent rampage now, but they didn’t have to watch it happen.

Hernan quietly opened a door and the silent objectors passed through it one by one.

Connor stood watch over Hernan until only he, Ethan, and Shiloh remained.

“You should come with us,” Connor told the Weaver. “Once Anika has been updated, we’ll send a team back to deal with this.”

Hernan shook his head and pointed at the house. “My brother has been taken in by that madness. I won’t leave without him.”

“I understand,” Connor said.

Ethan went through the door, but Shiloh paused beside Connor.

“When we don’t have a war to fight, is this what we become?”

Connor didn’t have an answer, but as Shiloh passed into the portal, Connor was overcome with the feeling that the walls of his world were being pulled down on top of him. And there was nothing he could do to stop it.

IN ALL THE TIME
Adne had known Connor, he’d been at war, but this was the first time she’d ever seen him beaten down by a mission. His face was world-weary and his every movement stilted by frustration. At least he was telling her it was about the mission and nothing else. He didn’t bring up the training session. Neither did she.

“It’s not your fault he got away,” Adne told Connor. “Logan’s always been slippery. Saving his own skin is his raison d’être.”

“I know that,” Connor said, shrugging off his duster. “I don’t even know if we should bother chasing down Keepers. In fact, because it’s what Holt wants us to be doing, I’m kind of convinced it must be a terrible idea. And given the way he ransacked that house tonight, I’d almost be afraid to see him catch up with a Keeper. But I can’t help thinking . . .”

“What?” Adne knew Connor too well not to notice that he’d cut his thought off prematurely, which meant he was hiding something.

Connor shook his head. “It’s nothing.”

“The nothing is bothering you,” Adne replied. “Just tell me.”

With a sigh, Connor smiled at her. “No secrets with you.”

Adne swallowed what felt a stone lodged in her throat, but she forced herself to nod.

“We found a girl,” Connor said. “The same one we saw with Logan and the other Keeper boy during the reconnaissance mission.”

“So you didn’t come back empty-handed after all,” Adne said. “You know what they say, a bird in the hand.”

Connor went very quiet.

“That was my attempt to cheer you on,” Adne offered, frowning at him.

“She was dead, Adne,” Connor said, his expression bleak. “We found her on the beach near the house. Her throat was cut.”

Adne’s heart thudded, her pulse suddenly loud in her ears. “What do you think happened?”

“Nothing good,” Connor answered.

“You think it was Logan,” Adne said. “But she was a Keeper, like him. Why would he kill one of his own? And since when does Logan have the guts to kill someone? I thought he hired people to do that.”

“He does.” Connor rubbed his temples and Adne noticed how tired he looked.

I haven’t been helping with that,
Adne thought.
I probably bring him more worry than comfort these days.

“Or at least he did,” Connor continued. “I don’t know what happened, and without having Logan here to question, there’s no way for us to find out. What I do know is that I have a very bad feeling about all of this.”

Adne agreed but she didn’t trust herself to say so. She could barely hear her own thoughts over the roar of blood in her head. It was making her dizzy.

Connor stripped off his shirt, revealing hard muscle and scars won by years as a Striker. Suddenly uncomfortable, Adne turned away.

What the hell is wrong with me?
She’d wanted Connor more than anything for the last two years, and now he was hers. Had her feelings been nothing more than childish infatuation? Had winning him been the only real goal, and now that she had him, had her interest waned?

The thought made Adne’s skull ache.

It can’t be that. I can’t be that horrible.

Adne forced herself to turn around. While she’d been looking away, Connor had stripped off his jeans and donned a loose-fitting pair of pajama pants. Adne let her gaze roam over him slowly, taking in the lines of his body, reminding herself of how good it felt to hold him, to be close to him, to feel how much he wanted her whenever he took her in his arms.

“What’s that look about?” Connor asked, noticing Adne’s perusal.

“I love you.” Adne walked up to Connor and rose up on her toes to place a gentle kiss on his mouth.

Connor’s arms went around her back, holding her against him. “Lucky me.”

He bent his head and pressed his lips to hers. His kiss was soft and Adne could taste his sadness. She wanted to take it away.

Connor broke off their kiss and pulled back to look at Adne’s face. His eyes were searching, and Adne knew he was cautious about where to go from here. Guilt stung Adne’s heart. His hesitation was her fault. She’d been more and more reticent when it came to intimacy.

Determined to repair the damage she’d done, Adne ran her fingertips over Connor’s collarbone, then down his chest and stomach. When she slipped her hand beneath the waistband of his pants, she murmured, “I think you should carry me to the bed now.”

“Is that what you think?” Connor gave her a teasing smile, but his voice had grown hoarse.

Adne nodded.

• • •

How had she never noticed the softness of these sheets?

Adne would have sworn the bed linens were simple cotton; tonight they felt like silk on her skin. But the slide of the sheets over her body was nothing compared to touch of her lover’s hands.

He placed his palm against her abdomen gently, but even so, Adne was aware of his immense strength. She felt an unfamiliar flutter deep within her.

“He is well,” her lover’s voice rumbled, low and rich with pleasure.

Though cocooned by happiness, Adne couldn’t help but feel something was wrong. Her lover’s voice, though familiar, wasn’t what she’d expected it to be.

Or was it?

She knew him. Knew his touch.

Did she?

“He?” Adne teased. “How can you possibly know?”

The twinge of unease came again. Her own voice sounded off as well. And the words—both hers and his—didn’t make sense. What were they speaking of? How could she not remember?

“My love.” Adne couldn’t see his face, but she could hear that he was smiling. “If I could share my vision with you, I would. But you can trust that I speak the truth. The child is male.”

The child? Adne’s head was swimming, but she answered in that voice that wasn’t her own.

“Are you pleased?”

“You never need ask such a question,” he replied. His fingers touched her lips. “Male or female, my blood flows in our child’s veins. That blood binds me to this world. It is our legacy.”

“Yes,” Adne replied. She didn’t understand. What legacy?

Her lover bent over her. She felt the warmth of his breath on her cheek. His weight pressed down on her. The sensation set fire to her veins and Adne was overwhelmed by need.

She wanted to tell him. To say his name.

But she couldn’t remember it.

How was that possible?

His hands were tracing the shape of her body.

Why couldn’t she remember?

His lips touched her ear. “You are mine.”

“Yes,” Adne said again.

Who are you?

His hand cupped her cheek, turning her face. Adne parted her lips, anticipating his kiss.