When Temptation Burns: A Shadow Keepers Novel (Shadow Keepers 6) (36 page)

“I’m sorry,” Luke said. “I don’t know how—”

“Dammit, Luke,” Doyle spat, “don’t you see what’s going to happen to her? She’s going to burn, she’s going to die.” He drew a breath. “For years I’ve been blaming you for what happened in France, for Kathryn’s death. But it wasn’t your fault, Luke. It was mine. It was mine, and it was Kathryn’s, because she wasn’t willing to look past what I am to see me. But Andy is willing to do that. She does do that, and goddammit, I want a chance with
her. Please, Luke, if there was ever a time when you were my friend, then don’t deny me now.”

“The fault for the past rests with both of us,” Luke said. “And Ryan, I am your friend.” He rested a hand on Doyle’s shoulder, and Doyle closed his eyes, forcing himself not to shrug it off out of habit and frustration. “You helped me when Sara was in danger. Do you think I’ve forgotten that? There is nothing in my power that I wouldn’t do to help you—and Andy. But it’s daylight, Agent Doyle. You know as well as I do that my utility is severely limited.” He waved his hand, indicating the RAC team. “These are good men. Use them.”

“I intend to,” Doyle said. “Blowing up Andy isn’t Paul’s primary objective. He wants to bring the whole building down, and an explosion on the plaza would only do minor damage. I’ve already sent a team into the parking garage and utility crawl spaces. These men are reviewing the surveillance footage from the last eighteen hours, hoping to find out where Travis or someone working with him planted explosives.”

“She’s a diversion,” Luke said, his eyes focusing on the image of Andy in the monitor.

“She’s the woman I love. And I need to find the man who holds her fate at the touch of a button …” He drew in a breath. “Luke, for that I need your help. I trust your abilities. Dammit all, I trust you.”

Luke’s expression didn’t shift, but something dark seemed to fade from his eyes. “What exactly do you have in mind?”

“Mist,” Doyle said. “If you transform into mist you can cover a broader area. You can find him, and you can keep him from detonating the explosives for long enough for me to get Andy out of that goddamned jacket.”

“Not a bad plan,” Luke said. “Unless he happens to be watching from a rooftop. I won’t do you any good if I burst into flames.”

“Your cloak will transform with you,” Doyle said, knowing full well that the cloak would be a significant hindrance during the fight. “Look, it’s your eyes I need. As mist, you have a better perspective. You can get into places that our satellite surveillance can’t. The team hasn’t found him yet. I think you can.” He sure as hell hoped he could.

Luke nodded toward the monitors. “Have the team track me as well. If I find him, I’ll maneuver in a circular pattern before descending. That can be your signal to move in on Andy, too—to get her out of that vest while I get the plunger from Paul. I won’t be able to send any other signal.” He indicated his clothes. “No weapons, no tech. You know how it works. I change into mist, and this is what I’ve got to work with.”

“You’ll do it, though?”

“For you? For Andy? Yes,” Luke said. “Of course.”

Luke moved as sentient mist over the heart of downtown Los Angeles. He tried to stay in the shadows—though the sun wouldn’t destroy him as mist, it did sap his strength in much the same way as hematite. And although Paul was human, Luke was sure he would be well armed for battle against a vampire, and Luke was hardly going to be at his best.

He saw the RAC team tracking him from below, watching the glimmer of mist in the sky, waiting to report back to Doyle when he found the target and moved
in. Luke only hoped their plan would work. Paul could choose to set off the detonator whenever he felt like it. At any second, they could lose not only Andy but the building, and all the people who were still in the midst of evacuating.

He thought of Doyle—of the friendship they’d once shared. He had no illusions that they could rebuild what had been lost over so many years. But perhaps they could build something new. If this mission failed, though … if Andy died … Luke wasn’t sure that Doyle would recover. He’d heard the tone of Doyle’s voice—the need there. No,
the love
.

Losing her now would destroy Doyle in a much deeper way than he’d been destroyed before. And not only would Luke lose the potential to rebuild a friendship—the PEC would lose one of its best agents.

He pushed the thoughts from his mind. He wasn’t going to fail, so there was no point in running scenarios through his head. Instead, he focused all of his attention on the ground, searching for the man whose visage he’d become so familiar with over the past few days. It was an exercise in futility. Paul could be inside a building. In a car. Hidden in the subway tunnels underneath the streets. If he was somehow tapping into the building’s exterior video feed, he’d be able to tell what was happening on the plaza even without a direct visual. All he’d need to do was stay in range so that he could detonate with the hand trigger and—

What was that?

His eyes were drawn to the crowd that had gathered beyond the police blockade. Some were standing, necks craning as they tried to see what was happening at the Criminal Justice Building. Others were moving about,
taking care of their own business. And then there was one man who was making his way through a small open area, distinct from the other businessmen because of his bulky overcoat and hat. The weather was mild, so the coat seemed out of place. Swirling in closer, Luke could see it was filthy. The hat, too.
Homeless
, he thought, and almost dismissed him. But then he saw the man’s shoes. Perfectly polished. So shiny they practically reflected the sun.

And he saw the small handheld television that peeked out of one of the man’s coat pockets.

This man wasn’t homeless. He wasn’t homeless at all.

Luke rose into the sky and circled, hopefully catching the attention of the lookouts. Then he hurtled toward the man, a rocket of mist that transformed right in front of the man’s eyes. A handful of humans stumbled backward, confused and scared by Luke’s sudden materialization. Luke ignored them. He was only interested in the man in front of him. The one who wasn’t scared or surprised. The one who knew exactly what was happening.

Paul
.

“Hello, vampire,” Paul said, and as he spoke, some of those supposedly confused humans rushed forward.
Paul’s team
. Well, shit.

Luke rushed forward, too, pulling Paul to him, then yanking the human’s hands out of his pockets.

No detonator
.

Paul began to laugh. “You’re chasing the wrong person, vampire,” he said. “And now for my second act,” he added, as five humans rushed forward, grabbed Luke’s black cloak, and yanked it off of him even as Paul put on a burst of speed and fled the area.

Luke’s face and arms immediately started to burn. There was an oleander bush nearby, and he dove for it, protecting his body in the shade even as the RAC team swooped in. They managed to snatch three of Paul’s men, but he was long gone.

“Go!” Luke ordered the team as one of the RAC members draped a blanket over him. “Contact Doyle. Tell him Paul did not—repeat, not—have the plunger. The vest is still hot. Tell him to stand down. Tell him to stand the fuck down before the entire building blows—and him and Andy along with it.”

Only a few minutes had passed—Andy knew that—and yet it felt like it had been hours.

Maybe she should run? At least then she’d be trying. And if she headed toward the street, away from the building’s entrance, it might dilute the brunt of the impact when Paul pushed the button and turned her into a human mushroom cloud.

Oh God, oh God, oh God
.

Should she? Could she?

She thought of Doyle’s strength. And she wished desperately that he was beside her. She wanted him to tell her what to do. Wanted him to tell her it would be all right. Because even though Andy had always prided herself on her independence, right now the last thing she wanted was to be was alone.

Better this way. No sense taking anyone else into the abyss with you
.

Of course. Of course. God, her mind was in a muddle. She craved him, yet she also wanted him far away and safe.

The air seemed to shimmer in front of her. Fear was messing with her mind. Making her vision go wonky. No, not that. Making her imagination fly. What had Paul said about fairy godmothers? Well, that wasn’t what she was imagining. But she was fantasizing that Doyle was somehow going to come for her. That he
would materialize in front of her and then, poof, they’d both fly off into the sunset.

It was a lovely fantasy, and so clear in her mind that she could picture him stepping right out of the air, her name on his lips. His face was pulled into harsh lines of fear, but his eyes were shining with love.

And then his lips were on hers and he was unbuckling the vest and—

“Doyle!” He was real. Dear God, he was real. “How did you—?”

“Wormhole,” he said, which made no sense, but now wasn’t the time to ask.

“The vest! They’re watching. Don’t—”

He kissed her, silencing her, and all her fears evaporated. “Luke has him. You’re safe. Let’s get you out of this and out of here.”

“Yes,” she said. “Yes, let’s do that now.”

He was on the last buckle when he cocked his head sideways and tapped his ear.

“What?” she asked.

His face crumbled and his already quick fingers shifted to frantic, dancing over the last strap that was securing the vest to her.

“What?” she repeated. “Doyle, talk to me.”

“That was Tucker. Luke found Paul, but he didn’t have the detonator.”

For a moment, she didn’t understand. Then she gasped. “
Bryce
. But that means—” Her gaze cut to the front of the building, where she knew the cameras were looking down on them. “If they can see us.”

“I know … I know …”

He got the strap off.

“Doyle!”

“It’s off!”

“Doyle!”

A silver disc that she’d assumed was some sort of rivet holding the explosives in place had turned red.

“Fuck!” he cried. He hurled the vest straight up into the air, all of his strength sending it flying at an incredible speed.
“Get down!”
he yelled, shoving her to the ground, and covering her body with his own even as he thrust his hand out, and, as she watched, the air around them started spinning into a vortex—a vortex that just happened to be right in the vest’s trajectory.

In it went, into a dark, curving tube that looked like the inside of a garden hose. And then, just as the blackness filled with the noise and spark of the vest bursting into a million pieces, exploding with so much force it seemed to rock everything around them, the vortex snapped shut and—
poof
—there was nothing in front of them but air.

He pulled her into his arms and kissed her as she clung to him, so overcome with relief that she had to fight to form words once he pushed away, his hands stroking her face as if he couldn’t quite believe she was real. “What was—I mean, where—? Where is it?”

“Space,” he said. “I sent it into outer space.”

She held him close, unable to stop smiling. “You really are the most amazing man.”

“Don’t you forget it.”

They clung to each other again, then Doyle pushed her away. “I want you to get into the control van with Tucker.” He nodded at one of the uniformed RAC officers who was running toward them. “Bryce is still out there somewhere. I want you safe.”

“And you? You’re going to go looking for him?”

“I’m going into the building,” he said, his expression hard. “You were a diversion. We’re certain he’s wired the building to blow.”

She clutched his hand. “Be careful,” she said as a thin mist, like a haze above a swamp in winter, shimmered in front of them, transforming as she watched into the large form of Luke Dragos, who was wrapped in a heavy cloak. “Paul’s a wild card,” he said.

Doyle’s eyes cut immediately to Andy. “What are you talking about?”

“He was ready for us. He had a team with him—they yanked my cloak and Paul pulled a disappearing trick. The RAC team managed to snag three of Paul’s men, but Paul himself got away.”