Surrender (THE DRAGONFLY CHRONICLES) (6 page)

“Mr. Black, wait.”

Jackson’s eye didn’t blink, didn’t waver from his target. “Let her go. Now.” The last word came out between the small crack of his clenched teeth. “Or there’ll be a hole through your skull.” The man’s brittle lips pulled back in a leer that revealed yellow, broken teeth. His dark tan skin and clothing showed him to be a local. His sneer showed him to be vicious.

“No, Jackson.” The sound of his given name across her tongue tugged him. Jackson’s gaze barely flickered to Kailin, but he saw her swallow against the blade. Anger shot through all his muscles, and he fought to control his trigger finger. “Sir, take me to my father. I am surely a greater prize than the orb. Once you surrender me to the one who hired you, I can be forced to take him to his trinket.”

“Call off your guard-man.”

“Jackson, let—”

“He’s not with the group holding your father.” Jackson stared into the dark eyes of the enemy. “He’s a local thief taking advantage of your stupidity for walking alone through a deserted alley.”

The bastard shrugged. “Perhaps I am.” The man lowered slightly to put Kailin directly before his face. He inhaled loudly. “Perhaps not. I will take Miss to her papa.”

“The hell you will,” Jackson growled and stepped to the side. Kailin inhaled sharply and Jackson froze, his gaze set on the dirty blade. His eyes darted to Kailin’s but she looked over his head. Several dragonflies zipped past his shoulders to swarm around the thief turned lecherous kidnapper. The bastard cursed and removed his arm from Kailin to swat at the little storm of glittery wings.

Jackson jumped forward, taking advantage of the distraction. But the thief was already flat against the wall. His red eyes bulged out of his heavily bearded face. “I…I can’t move,” came from the slim part in his frozen lips.

The unearthly screech of an owl splintered the muffled sounds wafting down the alley. Tuto, her pet, soared down, flapping its great wingspan before the thief’s face. The man cursed and spat in Arabic.

Kailin still stared behind Jackson and he whirled. Hovering several feet from the pebbly dirt was a ghost or spirit, a woman. Her robes flowed around her on invisible breezes. Dragonflies circled her ancient but smooth face, landing and taking off from her loose, long hair. Excitement lightened her eyes and a smile curved her lips.
I’ve found you
.

The woman’s lips hadn’t moved, but Jackson had plainly heard her voice, a deeply feminine rumble, in his head. The woman’s merry eyes moved to the thief jammed up against the wall.
I see you are taking good care of yourself
,
daughter of Gilla
.

Kailin’s eyes narrowed. “Who are you? Who is Gilla?”

“Let me go,” slurred the bastard, his lips still frozen. Could the man even blink? Was Kailin holding him against the wall? Tuto strutted like a sentry before the thief, scratching at his feet with sharp talons.

I am Drakkina. Gilla was your mother.

Jackson looked between the four: thief, owl, Kailin, ghost. He lowered his gun halfway to his side. None of his experience could help him with this bizarre situation. Only the sound of shallow breathing came from the thief. The dragonflies zipped noiselessly as if they were half-concocted hallucinations. Jackson blinked hard but the images continued to dive through the air around them. “This isn’t the place for introductions or explanations.” He broke the stalemate. He glanced around the corner and the alley was empty, but people still walked along the wharf beyond. “I’m taking you to your hotel, Miss Whitaker.”

The ghost’s gaze turned to him, scrutinizing, appreciating. One of her eyebrows arched high.
Tall, virile, strong. A good mate for Gilla’s daughter
.

Mate? Kailin’s gaze flickered toward Jackson and her cheeks pinkened. She’d definitely heard the ghost’s assessment.

The thief behind her groaned, his face turning red. “Kailin.” Jackson stepped forward and touched her hand before she baked the thief alive. The man slumped to the ground, his knife skittering across the hard sand. Jackson kicked the slightly melted weapon away but the man didn’t look like he had any intent of trying to follow it. “You’re lucky you survived today, bloody bastard,” Jackson said. “Think again before attacking anyone.” Tuto pecked at the man’s arm several times before alighting.

Jackson propelled Kailin around and past the floating apparition. Did it follow? Did the thief get off the ground? At the moment Jackson only cared about getting Kailin out of the alley and to safety. This was also a rare moment when she seemed too stunned to argue with him.

“What the hell were you thinking?” he growled just above a whisper as they stepped back into the public stream. “Going off alone was foolish enough, but then walking down an alley off the wharf at Luxor? And then letting the bastard hold you.” Jackson paused in his tirade and in step but then continued to propel Kailin through the street. He signaled a hackney and lifted her in. Without releasing her elbow, he followed, clipping a few directions to the driver in the local Arabic. The man hefted the small conveyance and took off through the milling people. Jackson let his gaze scan the crowd. No doubt they were being watched.

“You can let go of me now,” Kailin said in a firm voice. “I won’t jump from a moving cart.”

Her arm was slender, strong beneath his fingers. He didn’t want to let go. “I wouldn’t want to be responsible for the baking of any locals.”

Kailin’s eyes flashed at him, color high in her cheeks. Why did he bait her? It was apparently dangerous—for bystanders at least. “You would be responsible for that,” she whispered quickly. “I’ve never before lost control like I do when you are near me.”

He moved close to her ear so no one could overhear, he told himself. He inhaled the sweet flower smell of her skin. “And yet when I touch you…” He let the sentence hang, much enjoying the sound of the word touch.

Her blue eyes stared into his and he noticed the slight golden hue encircling her iris, making the color take on a greenish hue along the periphery.

“What are you?” she whispered, searching his eyes.

“What are you?” he answered back.

“I asked first.” Her soft pink lips twisted into a petulant line. She had lips made for yielding if she’d ever let someone, not someone, only him.

Mine
, whispered through Jackson’s mind and he almost turned to look for the ghost. But the timbre was his, not hers.
Mine. You are mine, only mine
. The thought screamed through his head, hardening his gut.

“The ghost said I was your mate,” he answered.

“Do you know who she is?” Kailin asked, not taking the bait.

He gave a brief shake, barely seen. “She seems to know you. Gilla’s daughter?”

Kailin glanced down, her shoulders lowering back into the dingy cushion of the seat. Her gloved finger rubbed along her upper arm. “She knows of my mother.”

“I didn’t know you had a mother.”

Kailin’s gaze snapped back to him. “Everyone has a mother, whether they know of her or not. Anthony has been my father for as long as I can remember. He and Bruce played the part of mother too. I have no knowledge of my real mother, but be assured, Mr. Black, I was birthed by someone.”

Moisture in Kailin’s blue eyes turned them greenish and Jackson wished once again that he had the forethought for polite dialogue. The pit of his stomach churned with guilt and regret. Tears were his downfall more than any firearm. By now he should be dead a hundred times over with as many tears as he’d seen. And Kailin’s could surely cripple him. If she knew the power she had, she’d wield it like her magic over him no doubt.

Jackson reacted instinctively, glancing away from the proof of his brutish behavior. He breathed in the heat rolling off the nearby sands as they dodged foot traffic toward the hotel away from the wharf.

“I apologize for any offense,” he said slowly, considering each word before uttering it this time. He filtered out pity from his voice. “And as for mothers, they are…important. I am sorry you did not know yours.”

She did not snap back, didn’t say anything, but Jackson felt her gaze. They rode in silence until they stopped before a three-story building with an arched, ornate doorway flanked by potted palms. The etched stone, cleverly stacked, blended with the sand-colored bricks of the town, but turquoise-and-red mosaics depicted Egyptian scenery along the walls. Gold-painted steps led up to glass doors where a local boy in a red bellman costume stood ready to open and close the portal. Hotel Moudira stood like an oasis in the arid city. Ladies in fresh gowns brandishing parasols and gentlemen with matching trousers and vests climbed the steps to a deck with umbrella-shaded tables to saunter into the cool relief of the reception area.

Jackson helped Kailin down from the hackney and paid the driver. She added her own coin to the lucky lad’s hand. He smiled and bobbed at her generosity.

“No need to pay double,” Jackson said and carried her valise in one hand while escorting her up the gold steps.

“Just in case ’twas his father I incapacitated in the alley.”

Jackson watched the straight line of Kailin’s back as she stepped before him up the steep staircase. It seemed that the ice princess hefted the chains of guilt as well as he did. Jackson caught up to her pace in two strides. He offered her his arm. Observing polite manners only, he was certain, she rested her fingers on his forearm. But she neither pressed nor faltered on her way up the steep climb.
Rugged with a strong heart,
Jackson added to her list of amazing attributes.

Kailin stepped into the ornate lobby and crossed on Jackson’s arm. Curious stares and bending heads flanked her. She folded a veil of aloof respectability around her, concentrating on constricting the bubbles of magic and anxiety popping around under the familiar façade. Familiar, yes, but also exhausting. She sighed softly. How she missed the quiet majesty and resonating silence of the Highland mountains, the harsh land too difficult and cold for most tourists. She’d been able to excavate and study the historic mysteries of the landscape and carved rocks without the constant need for control. Even with all the modern amenities and expensive luxuries offered here, she’d be much less comfortable and much more tired.

“Another sigh?” Jackson spoke softly.

Kailin stared straight ahead at the reservation desk. “I find that I am homesick for my wide open skies and mountains. I find God’s creations much more relaxing than this manmade opulence. I fear I am tired of it already.”

“Hmmm…I understand,” Jackson murmured and Kailin looked sharply at him.

“Do you? I thought you spent your time here, hunting for manmade opulence.”

He tipped his head as if agreeing to part of her observation. “I didn’t always crawl in the sand looking for trinkets.” His cocky half-smile sobered. “I grew up under wide open skies flanked by the Rocky Mountains in the States. I understand homesickness, Miss Whitaker.”

Kailin blinked and her tight mouth softened. That was all she would permit. Perhaps he did know something then of the strain she felt. The claustrophobia, not just of walls and ceilings, but of judgment and societal cages. A man raised under constant reminder of God’s grandeur must have something of a humble heart, though Jackson Black’s heart seemed way too cocky to be humble.

“Your eyes give you away,” he whispered near her ear as she turned back to the registration desk. The manager signaled that he would be right with her and she nodded.

“How so?” she asked though kept her eyes cast away.

“They soften, harden, flash, and reflect the emotions trying to pound their way out of that mask you wear. People say you are made of ice, but it is all a façade to hide yourself.”

Kailin swallowed hard and forced her voice to remain smooth, aloof. “How annoying of you to notice.”

He laughed. Not at her, but with what sounded like appreciation for her wit. It made her mouth soften again, the corners rising on their own accord.

“May I help you?” The manager stepped before them. He eyed Jackson critically and turned more to her. Did the man know Jackson?

“My father was abducted from your establishment, Mister…?” She found it best to reveal the most important information first. None of this small talk on which people seemed to waste considerable breath.

“Willep,” the man sputtered.

Kailin nodded coolly. “His name is Doctor Anthony Whitaker.” The manager’s face continued to redden and she felt Jackson’s hand on her elbow. She frowned at Jackson. It wasn’t her out-of-control magic that heated the paunchy man’s face but his own embarrassment at allowing such an atrocity to occur in his hotel.

“The magistrate has taken all the information, madam. We are doing all we can to find him I assure you.”

“I am
Miss
Whitaker, and I am sure you are investigating.” She forced a cool smile to assure the man that she wasn’t hostile, just efficient. “I will require a room with an outside balcony and access to my father’s room and possessions. My bag was brought from the wharf earlier.”

The manager nodded and his gaze drifted to Jackson.

“Mr. Black will need a separate room.”

Jackson tipped his hat slightly with an amused grin. “As the lady says.”

The manager blinked several times. Perhaps he wasn’t used to such directness from a woman, especially with a man at her side. Kailin glanced at Jackson. A casual grin sat across his lips. He apparently had no problem with her leadership abilities even if it stretched the lines of social etiquette. It wasn’t that she thought she could handle the conversation better, well perhaps she could, but that she was just used to taking charge. She was the leader on her small expeditions and digs. It suited her. In this way she could relax in her own skin even when playing the role of civilized lady.

The manager rang a bell and a young man, perhaps just barely considered a man in British society, stepped promptly from around a potted fern with her trunk in hand. The manager dangled two keys out for the boy. “Room 302 for Miss Whitaker.” He turned to her. “It was your father’s room. I will have the box of his belongings brought up to you. The room has been used since…it was vacated last month.” Her lips tightened but she nodded. “Room 206 for Mr. Black, Avil.”