Eternal Nights (11 page)

They passed through an archway. There was a branch off the main corridor to the left, but Wyatt continued straight ahead. While he’d been unconscious, he must have been dreaming about some woman. Kendall fought the need to scowl, but lost.

Zolianna. The name sounded exotic, and mysterious—two things she wasn’t. How could she compete with this woman?

Compete? What the hell was she thinking? Wyatt was her best friend, not her lover, and she didn’t want it any other way.

But what did this Zolianna look like?

It wasn’t as if she wanted to scope out a rival; she was merely curious about what type of woman Wyatt found attractive, that’s all. There wasn’t any Zolianna on J Nine—it was an unusual enough name that she’d remember it—so it had to be someone back on Earth.

“Darlin’, you’re frowning something fierce,” Wyatt said. “What’s on your mind?”

Kendall ignored the thrill that shot through her at the endearment; he didn’t mean anything by it. Then the question sank in and she felt the blood leave her face. She couldn’t tell him the truth—he might think she was jealous. Her brain raced until one thought settled. “The thieves. They’ve been looting the Old City—the
temple
—with impunity. We’ll probably never recover most of treasures they’ve stolen.”

“That’s true.” He slipped a callused hand under her fall of hair and massaged her neck. “But there’s nothing we can do right now. When we get out of here, you can raise cain.” Wyatt dropped his arm and chuckled. “Heck, we both know you’re going to give Sullivan an earful the instant you get him in your sights. I just hope I’m there when you tear a strip off him.”

“He’s a superior officer and he’s...intimidating.”

Wyatt grinned. “Yeah, he is, but that’s not going to stop you, and neither will his rank. You’ll be subtle enough that he won’t be able to threaten you with charges, but you’ll get your point across. And he should have anticipated smuggling, right? ”

“Of course he should have!” she said heatedly, before she noticed Wyatt’s shoulders were shaking. Kendall glowered at him. “Bait me again, and I’ll unload with a whole lecture about protecting the antiquities in this city.”

“That’s not much of a deterrent. I like it when you get all passionate on me.” Wyatt winked at her.

Kendall jerked her attention forward. She knew her cheeks had scalded—she could feel their heat—but she couldn’t help but wonder if he alluded to their kiss. Just what did he remember?

*** *** ***

Kendall looked at Wyatt when he stopped short, and waited for him to explain why. They’d been traversing the corridors for hours. This inner section of the temple was a maze, and over and over, they’d run into dead ends or places where the halls forked into more branches. It had surprised her at first that he consulted her on which direction they should take, but she decided she liked it. This was what teamwork was about. But she didn’t have a clue as to where they were and was trusting Wyatt to lead.

“What?” she prodded when he didn’t say anything.

With a grimace, he said, “I think we made a circle.”

She glanced around, but this marble passageway looked pretty much like all the others. “Why do you believe that?” No response. Kendall moved in front of him. “Wyatt?”

“This room?” He gestured to the open doorway to his right. “I think it’s the one I told you not to explore.”

Kendall blushed. They’d been walking for maybe half an hour when she’d spotted the first doorway. Her only thought had been to study the chamber, and when she’d looked inside, she’d completely forgotten about the smugglers. It had been spectacular, containing tapestries and statuettes that stole her breath. To her embarrassment, Wyatt had needed to wrap an arm around her waist to prevent her from entering.

He’d been right; they didn’t have time for her to indulge her interest, and she’d dutifully walked past every other chamber they’d passed—even if she did stare longingly into them as she went by. After they escaped and sent up the alarm, she could come back and investigate to her heart’s content.

“Why do you think we made a circle? Because of the mosaic of gems inlaid into the far wall of the room?”

“Yeah. Every room we’ve seen up till now has had a unique pattern of stones inside it,” Wyatt said quietly. “Unless we hit our first repeat, we’re almost back where we started.”

Now she understood his grimness. “You haven’t been marking our path in some top secret Spec Ops way?”

Wyatt started shaking his head before she finished. “I can’t.” He reached out and lightly clasped her shoulders. “We don’t know who all is involved in this mess, and if someone on the teams is dirty, I’d be leading them right to us.”

“Yeah.” She almost leaned into him and Kendall stiffened her muscles to keep from giving in to the urge. For a similar reason, she clenched her hands into fists. She wanted to reach up to push his dark hair off his forehead, to feel it slide between her fingers, and that scared her. Usually, she didn’t pay attention to how gorgeous Wyatt was, but right now it seemed to hit her like a sledgehammer. Even his stubble was sexy and her thinking this was so not good. “Right,” she said, “we don’t know who’s involved.” She took a step away, breaking his hold.

Kendall didn’t miss the hurt that darted through his eyes, and she regretted causing it. The desire to close the distance between them and soothe him was so strong, she took another step back to resist temptation.

It was one kiss, nothing more, yet it seemed to have undermined her common sense. She knew better. Time after time, Kendall had let herself become attached to her mom’s latest lover—had let herself wish they could be a family—only to have her hopes dashed. And when things fell apart, she was the one who consoled her mother. The breakups were the only times her mom drank, and at some point before she passed out, she’d slur out her regret that she’d taken John or Kent or Hank or whomever to her bed. Friendship, her mom had told her, was what lasted.

But that didn’t stop Kendall from wanting Wyatt to kiss her again. She tightened her fists and reminded herself that while she’d been kissing him,
he’d
been kissing Zolianna.

“I...” She cleared her throat, tried again. “I don’t know where we are. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t fret over it.” Wyatt tucked his fingers in his front pockets. “Okay, here’s what we’re going to do. First, I’m taking a minute or two to think through the path we took and try to figure out where we went wrong. Then we’re going to move and move fast. We lost our safety margin.”

Kendall nodded. It didn’t surprise her that he had some kind of mental map of their route, but the fact that they’d made a circle was proof that she wasn’t the only one confused by the dozens of twists and turns they’d taken.

He stared down the corridor, his thoughts obviously focused inward. As she waited for him, Kendall started to lean against the wall, then stopped and eyed it warily, but the inclusions remained frozen in the stone. She breathed a little easier. This had to prove that her earlier hallucination had been brought on by the lack of oxygen. Nothing else. Relieved, she glanced around, but she couldn’t see into the room and nothing else caught her interest. Except Wyatt.

She knew she should look away. Ogling him, even covertly, wasn’t smart, yet she couldn’t seem to tear her gaze from him. Wyatt was a big man, a couple of inches over six feet, and broad through the chest and shoulders. Her eyes slid lower, took in his narrow waist, his powerful thighs. His great ass. She thought about when they worked out together, how distracting he was in shorts, but sometimes he’d whip off his shirt and she’d be so busy trying not to gape that she’d forget what she was supposed to be doing. But a woman would have to be dead not to appreciate all those sexy muscles.

He put his hands on his hips and she shifted her stare. His long fingers hinted at an artistic side, but the calluses didn’t belong to a dilettante. Kendall sighed. She didn’t want to be attracted to him, didn’t want to think about him using his hands on her, or what his palms would feel like caressing her bare skin—she couldn’t risk their friendship. Not for a few weeks, or if she were lucky, months of physical pleasure.

Propping her shoulders against the wall behind her, she closed her eyes, took a deep breath and struggled to extinguish her arousal. She didn’t have much success until she pictured her life after Wyatt moved on, when she didn’t have him to talk to or laugh with any longer. That hurt enough to dump a bucket of ice water over her desire. Sex was fleeting, she knew that.

Concentrate on something else, she told herself. Her brain skittered around before she thought about the gemstones she’d seen inlaid in the corridor walls. There was always a pattern at an intersection, and if there were a spoke of passageways, the design was even more detailed and elaborate. Wyatt had muttered the first time she’d stopped to record the image with her digicam so after that, she’d taken the pictures without slowing down. Some were blurry despite the camera’s advanced stabilization features, but most had come out pretty well.

She wanted to study the patterns, learn from them. She was sure they were vitally important. Kendall bit her lip as she concentrated. Some of the stones were basic—sapphire, ruby, diamonds—but seeing selenite was a huge surprise.

It was a soft crystal, part of the gypsum family. She knew more about it than most other gems because her mom had collected wands made from the translucent rock. It was supposed to facilitate memory of past lives, which was why her mom surrounded herself with it, but it had other properties as well. She scrunched her eyes tightly as she tried to remember them.

“Bug, you okay?”

Reluctantly, Kendall looked at him. He stood close, concern etched on his face. “I’m fine,” she assured him. “I was just resting my eyes for a minute.”

“If we hadn’t gone in a circle, we could stop for a while, but...” Wyatt’s voice trailed off as he shook his head.

“I can keep up, Wy. Don’t worry, okay?”

Wy?
Where had that come from? Something flashed across his face, but it was gone before she could read it. Maybe it was the note of affection laced in the abbreviated name that startled him. God knew it had surprised the hell out of her. That was the kind of tone a lover used, not a friend.

He seemed to loom nearer, and every sense in her body sharpened. She could detect the slight citrus scent that seemed to cling to his skin, see the azure flecks in his navy eyes, and she could feel—Kendall stiffened before she swayed into him.

“We should go,” she said, sidling carefully to the side. She couldn’t risk touching him, not in the odd mood she was in. Not only didn’t he move, but something in Wyatt’s gaze made her uneasy. “Um, did you figure out where we went wrong? ”

“Not for sure,” he said at last, “but I have a few ideas.”

But he continued to look at her oddly. The last thing she wanted was him asking questions. What could she say? That she couldn’t help wanting him even though she knew better? Before she could think of some way to divert him, her stomach growled. Loudly. Kendall quickly moved her hand over it, trying to smother the noise, but she was too late. Wyatt’s lips quirked, and she felt her cheeks heat again. “Sorry,” she apologized.

“Nah, I’m the one who should be apologizing. If I was taking care of you right, I’d have fed you earlier. It’ll have to wait, though. We’re too close to where we started.”

“I know.” Kendall rested her hand over the flap of her messenger bag, fiddled with the ornamental buckle.
She
was the one who took care of things, not the one who was tended to, but Wyatt constantly watched out for her, and it always left her off balance. Uncomfortable. And with a strange warmth in her chest.

Before she realized what he was up to, Wyatt snagged her hand and drew her down the hall. The feel of his rough palm against hers ratcheted up her awareness of him. Damn.

She should pull her hand free, but Kendall didn’t want to. Since she wouldn’t let go, she needed to focus on something to distract herself. The smugglers. Yeah, she could think about them. Wyatt claimed they’d lost their safety margin, and she had no reason to doubt him. It was unnerving to know they’d be hunted, yet Kendall had faith in him.

But Dr. George was the leader of this band of thieves. Despite being warned not to underestimate him, Kendall still didn’t think he was cunning enough to— She stopped short, and Wyatt gave her a tug to get her moving again.

What qualities did it take to lead a smuggling ring? Kendall thought about that, and tried to guess. Cleverness, for one, she decided, including an ability to strategize. Insight into personalities and who would be corruptible. Approach the wrong person to join the band and the gig was up. Logistics was a third quality. The relics had to be hidden, packed and shipped off the planet. Then there was coordinating with an accomplice on Earth, someone who could be trusted not to take the money and disappear. That had to be tempting with J Nine so far away, so loyalty would be a factor. The final attribute that came to mind was the knowledge of what could safely be stolen and yet still bring a good price on the black market.

Kendall gave low marks to George in all categories—okay,
almost
all categories. He would know what artifacts could be taken. That was his job. But George was a plodder. She didn’t think he was shrewd enough to implement such an intricate scheme. She just couldn’t picture it.

And loyalty? Kendall didn’t know anyone who liked Dr. George; he’d managed to alienate at least half of the other archeologists, and nearly all the military personnel who had to deal with him loathed him. The kicker as far as she was concerned, though, was he was
not
a good judge of character. George was too self-involved to read people well. He looked down on pretty much the entire military contingent stationed here and barely tolerated some of the civilian experts. The ones he appeared to like were ass-kissers and suck-ups who, by their very natures, were generally untrustworthy.

Wyatt drew to a halt and Kendall put aside her thoughts to look around. She didn’t see anything. “Why are we stopping? ”