Phoenix Rising I (14 page)

Michaels, is there room for me to jump down there? Visualize it, he ordered mentally, turning away from the bar. He headed to a dark corner where he wouldn’t be noticed. Michaels? Summer?

She didn’t answer, and his heart pounded with fear. It was irrational, unprofessional, hell, emotional, but he couldn’t help it. Somehow, Summer Michaels had wormed her way into his heart when he hadn’t been looking. And now he felt overly protective and aroused whenever he thought of her.

Answer me, Summer.

Still nothing.

His mouth grim, he stared at the doorway through which he’d last seen her pass. He stumbled toward the security guarding the basement door and stopped right in front of them. Weaving slightly on his feet, he grinned. “D-damned pisser moved. Where the hell is the bathroom? Used to be right here.”

One of them shook his head and sneered in disgust, but the other stared suspiciously at Drake. Both men had tasers clipped to their belts, and Drake knew he’d have to work quickly to find the information he needed without causing a scene.

“I really have to go.” He deliberately tripped into the more suspicious of the two and pushed off him. Before the other man could grab him, he’d shoved the basement door open.

As he peered at an empty set of stairs, both guards grabbed him by the shoulders and hauled him back.

“Tha’s not the bathroom.” Drake glared at them and took an ineffectual swing.

The suspicious guy cursed and punched him hard in the gut. Coughing, Drake bent low and narrowly managed to avoid a knee to the face.

“Try that again, asshole, and I’ll use the taser. Then you’ll be pissing yourself for sure.”

Glaring at the guards, he shook his head and retreated to the men’s restroom around the corner. He rubbed his aching ribs. The sacrifices he made for the job.

Entering the john, he walked across a marbled floor to the furthest unoccupied stall in the corner and locked himself inside. He waited until the two occupied stalls near him vacated. Just as the door again opened to the restroom, and before anyone could take note of his feet under the stall, he jumped. It was risky, but thank God the stairwell behind the basement door looked just as he’d last seen it, empty of anything and anyone.

Now to find Summer.

He opened his mind, aware his sudden ability to eavesdrop was tied to the stubborn and mouthwatering detective tying him in knots. Praying she hadn’t suffered any major injury at the hands of that idiot she’d left with, he began walking quickly down the corridor, stunned at the maze of rooms filled with Illuso in its raw granular form and in its refined powder that normally found itself in small, contaminated ten-spots on the street.

He had to duck several times but still managed to feel his way toward Summer. Her psychic trail led him to a closed door, through which he heard muffled groans of pleasure. No. No way she would have fucked the guy to keep her cover. Enraged at even the possibility, he threw caution to the winds and slammed through the door.

Everyone jerked to a halt at his entrance. Summer stood in the corner, blinking at Drake in surprise. The guy, however, stood with his back to Summer, leaning against the far wall on one hand while he jacked off with his other. At Drake’s intrusion, however, he stopped and looked around him.

His eyes widened, staring in surprise at his hand on his dick, then narrowed angrily on Summer. “What the fuck?”

Drake jumped and clocked him with the butt of his gun, fiercely satisfied when the asshole fell to the cement floor, hard. He glanced at Summer, not surprised when she averted her eyes from her new ‘friend.’ “I second the comment. What the fuck?”

She flushed. “It’s not what you think.”

“You have no idea what I think.” He clenched his jaw tight and stared from the unconscious man to Summer barely dressed. Not stopping to think about it, he reached her in two strides and plastered his mouth to hers.

She opened her lips, to protest or accommodate him didn’t matter. Drake took advantage, thrusting his tongue in to taste what he dreamed about night after night. The danger, their professional relationship, everything faded as Summer’s taste permeated his being.

He rocked into her, drugged on her sex, on her pure, feminine power. The urge to fuck her made his cock like steel, and he felt the familiar spike of arousal beginning to drown him in heat. His hand stole over her cheek, when suddenly a barrage of images hit him squarely between the eyes.

“Ow.” He immediately pulled back, clutching his temples as if she’d brained him.

“Drake?”

He shook his head and noting the opened door, quickly shut it. He’d broken the lock, but at least the door would close.

Visions of he and Summer crawling over each other, of her taking him in her mouth, of him licking her pussy and watching her come over his tongue slammed into him with such force he slumped to his knees. She moved forward to touch him.

“No!” He needed to handle what he was seeing. He didn’t need more distraction from her. And they needed to leave this room and Mr. Hard-on with it as soon as possible. “I can deal with this.” A sudden flash of him taking her from behind hit him and he groaned, incredibly aroused and unaccountably confused. “God, what the hell is this?”

Again, she made as if to help him up and he jerked back hard, out of reach. “Do not try to touch me. At all.”

“Are you okay?” She stared at him with concern in her large, not-soinnocent eyes.

“I’ll be fine. Now jump to the extraction point. You’ve done what you were sent here to do.”

She frowned. “You want me to leave the rest of Spec to clean up this mess?” Her voice rose in disbelief and she quickly lowered it. “There is at least a million or more in Illuso floating around in here. My head’s hazy with it as it is, but I know who’s guarding what. You need me here.”

He crooked his finger, trying hard as hell not to stare at the bared flesh of her chest and belly. Focus on her face. Her face. She neared him and he reached out, grabbing her arm. Ferreting through the information she didn’t even try to hide, he took what he needed, ignoring the sexual acrobatics they were doing in her mind’s eye.

“It’s amazing, Michaels,” he said in a thick voice. “But I don’t need you here for this op. I’ve actually got it covered. Now the other stuff in there,” he paused to tap her head. “That we’re gonna have to look at real soon.” He glanced down at his fierce erection, pleased when she followed his gaze and blushed. Voices suddenly sounded from outside the door.

“I told that asshole D.J. never to bring anyone down here.”

“But did you see that pussy? Give the kid a break, he’s your nephew.”

“Shut up, Lloyd. The only reason you don’t kick his ass out is because you’re in it up to your eyeballs with Neely.”

The mayor? Summer mouthed.

He nodded grimly. Now jump before I fire your insubordinate ass.

She opened her mouth to argue as he stood and pulled his gun, moving

into the corner. They both heard shouts and cries from above, the loud traffic of a stampede and barks of “Freeze, police.” I don’t have time to argue with you. He cocked his pistol and she nodded, clearly not happy. Scowling, she jumped just as the door opened. * * * *

From an alley a block away, Summer blinked at the flashing lights swarming the entrance of Godzi’s. Dammit. She’d wanted to be in on that. Stepping closer to the scene, she nearly tripped over a deep crack in the tarmac, her excessively high-heeled boots a detriment to good health. A cool breeze blew a shiver down her spine, and she realized she would have been more a hindrance than a help in the club.

With no gun and a get-up distracting to any and every male who saw her, she knew she did the team a service by steering clear of the crime scene. She smiled as she watched the take-down, wondering when Lorie planned to show. Focused on Godzi’s, she failed to notice the movement behind her until it was almost too late.

Turning at the sounds of a scuffle, she witnessed a homeless man trying to keep his jacket safe from a well-dressed man carrying a large briefcase.

“Hey,” she yelled, just as the well-dressed man pulled a gun and shot the homeless guy dead, right in the head.

Reaching automatically to her hip, she swore when she realized she had no weapon.

He ignored her and stripped the dead man of his jacket, putting it on over his with distaste. “Not a bad fit,” he said, turning to face her with his gun pointed at her chest. “Now what should we do with you?” he asked in a voice full of speculation.

Her eyes widened when she recognized Godzi’s owner, Gregory Hayes. She hadn’t seen him in the club, but she recognized him from a photograph she’d seen of him and the mayor shaking hands.

“Look buddy, I don’t know anything, and I don’t want to know anything.” She shook her head and held her hands up, backing away.

“Too bad you’re not as good an actress as you look, Detective.” He shrugged and aimed the gun.

Too late she understood he had no intention of letting her live. Just as he pulled the trigger, she jumped to the farthest end of the alley, alarmed at the sudden streak of pain clouding her thoughts.

Chapter Seven

Summer woke to a horrible headache. She reached to massage her temples and sucked in her breath at the pain racing up her side.

“Easy,” Lorie said, tucking her arm back under the covers. “Sit tight while I get a nurse for some painkillers.”

Lorie left and Summer took note of her surroundings. A pale yellow room that smelled like antiseptic and Pine Sol hosted her bed, an IV, and a group of monitors that beeped if she moved the wrong way. Glancing at the gadget wrapped around her forefinger, she jerked it off, and sure enough, the beeping went crazy. Irritated, she shoved the reader back on her finger.

The nurse returned with Lorie in tow and handed Summer a cup full of pills.

“Two Percocet. Drink them down, and try to get some sleep.” The nurse glared at Lorie, who glared right back. “You need to rest. And no sudden moves. If you feel at all nauseous, let me know. You have to rest to recuperate.” Another stern frown at Lorie and she left.

“Too bad you didn’t get a hot male nurse.” Lorie shrugged and smiled, relief in her eyes. “It’s about time you woke up. You had us worried for a while.”

Summer shook her head and the pain returned.

“You also have a head wound. Must have happened when you fell into the wall while jumping. Take the drugs.”

Swallowing the horse pills, Summer regarded her partner with a questioning frown. “I obviously don’t remember much. Want to fill me in? And where were you while I was in the basement with Mr. Feel-Good?”

Lorie’s smile faded. “I was watching you the whole time, I swear. Then out of the blue I spotted Richards and Delacorte, the new guy. They really threw me. L.T. and I had a few words about his lack of communication afterward.”

Mention of Drake had Summer pausing in thought. She dimly recollected the events leading to her … shooting? “I was shot?”

Lorie nodded. “By Hayes, that pusher. He’s currently in custody.” She smiled with satisfaction. “His face looks like the ass-end of a Pug. Apparently, the lieutenant was the first to catch wind of the fact Hayes shot you. Took him an hour or so to find Hayes hiding out in a seedy hotel downtown. Hayes, of course, resisted arrest, so the L.T. beat the shit out of him. Took three of our guys to pull him off.”

Summer swallowed. She wondered how much of Drake’s anger had been her shooting, and how much had been his realization of what had occurred this past week, with her.

“And the lieutenant?” She cleared her throat. “How is he doing? I take it he’s okay, and that none of our guys were hurt in the sting?”

“Everyone but you is fine.” She flushed and looked behind her to make sure they were alone. “Ah, like I was telling you, seeing other cops in the club threw me. I thought it was our surveillance. And I, ah, got a little bent about it. Maybe I took more risks than I should have, was a little careless.”

“Come on.” Summer stared at her friend, knowing Lorie wasn’t telling her everything. “How careless?”

“I found myself half-hogtied to a large bed upstairs in the club--not on the second floor, on the private one above that--while that giant took you to the basement. I would have found a way to free myself,” she said, color rising in her face. “I only needed a few minutes with the guys.”

“Guys?”

“There were three of them, all higher than a kite on Illuso. I had my hand on the butt of a Glock.”

“That you so conspicuously had hidden where? That’s not a small gun.”

“It wasn’t mine. I took it off one of the security guards the minute we entered the bar. Like I’d be on the job without a piece.” She huffed in disgust, looking knowingly at Summer.

“Continue,” Summer ordered irritably. It hadn’t been her idea to go as prostitutes.

“Well, like I said, I was two seconds from whipping the Glock on my three pressing fans when Richards bursts in like a hero. He took one look at me with my wrist tied to a bed post and he lost it.”

“We’re talking about Richards, here? Detective Macho? I’m surprised he didn’t lecture you first on why women don’t belong in the force, not to mention in Spec.”

Lorie looked thoughtful. “Yeah, I wondered too. But he was a madman. Jumping all over the place, moving faster than I’ve ever seen anyone move, taking them out without a sound, using his bare hands.” Her eyes sparkled, and Summer couldn’t help laughing. “What?”

“You have a crush on Richards.” She laughed some more, feeling better and better about life. Her pain had vanished, and Lorie had become amusing as hell. “Lorie and Richards sitting in a tree, K-I-S-S--“

“Shut up!” Lorie’s glare dissolved into a grin, and she shook her head. “You’re out of it, chica. So I guess I’ll leave out the part where I tell you how scarily quiet your Drake has become. Oh, and he’s right outside your door waiting to come in.”

Summer rolled her head back on her pillow. “El hombre guapo con los ojos gris, como plata. Mi amor, mi querido.” The handsome man with silver eyes. My love.