Possessed by a Warrior Read online

  “Carter.” Sam got up from the bed and began pacing to the window and back. “The only way to end this is to take the bull by the horns. Why don’t we flush out whoever it is who wants this dress?”

  Carter hesitated for a long, long moment. “Very well,” he said at last. “That could put a lot of doubts to rest. I know all this suspicion must be killing a straight arrow like you.”

  Relief surged through Sam’s tight muscles. Carter was absolutely right. Certainty was the first thing he wanted. The rest would follow.

  * * *

  The only real remedy for Chloe’s headache would be to lock Mrs. Fallon away for a week or two. Once Leo and Elaine were safely out of the country, she could release the mother of the bride and present her with a bill.

  She’d barely tasted dinner. After thanking Faran for his help one more time—somehow he’d been roped into helping with the reception menu—she retreated to her bedroom and kicked off her shoes. She could almost feel the blood rushing back into her toes. She wanted an aspirin, a hot bath and fleecy pj’s. It was all of eight o’clock. The meeting had lasted hours. It had felt like days.

  What Mrs. Fallon wanted, besides Jack’s house and the blasted gold-hoofed horse, included real cannons, flocks of doves, and coffee beans that had been ingested and then pooped out by an Indonesian civet cat. Kopi Luwak was the most expensive coffee in the world and thankfully Faran thought he knew where he could get some.

  This is insane. Chloe lay on her bed, fully clothed, too tired to change. The only thing that made the stress worthwhile was that pulling off this impossible wedding would make her career. People who mattered would know Chloe’s Occasions.

  According to Iris, between three and four hundred guests would rearrange their schedules in order to attend. It was going to be a security nightmare. Poor Sam.

  Chloe sat up, feeling bad. He really was being a sport about moving the wedding to Oakwood. She wondered whether he was really okay with the extra workload.

  The only way to ease her conscience was to talk to him. She got up and located kinder shoes.

  Walking down the hall, she thought she heard his voice. It was coming from one of the empty guest bedrooms, but that door was closed. Not so empty, then. She stepped closer, listening to see if she was right.

  Yes, it was Sam. The conversation sounded one-sided, like he was on the phone, and he sounded tense. To interrupt or not? She was just tired enough to be rude. Softly, she knocked.

  Sam’s words stopped abruptly, and then he said, “I’ll call you back.”

  A moment later the door opened. He lifted one eyebrow. “I was wondering how long you were going to hover out there.”

  The man had to have the ears of a bat. She folded her arms. “The wedding’s going to be here next week.”

  Sam stared at her blankly. “Yes, I know.”

  Nerves skittered through her stomach. She hadn’t realized how worried she was about his goodwill until now. “I really, really hope you’re okay with me having it here.”

  He stood with one hand on the doorknob, his big body blocking the doorway. “Is that what you came here to ask?”

  This wasn’t how she wanted the conversation to go. She wanted him to tell her everything was okay, and then they’d kiss again like they had in the garden that afternoon. He didn’t appear to be in a comforting mood, though. She was going to have to help this along.

  “Yes, well, I know there are a million reasons not to have it here.” She pushed past him into the bedroom. “Not the least of which is that we won’t get a break from wedding madness for days.”

  The muscles in his jaw flickered, as if he were clenching his teeth. His reply came out with a light dusting of sarcasm. “There are a few other reasons. Thieves. A man tried to kill you. Don’t forget two people are already dead.”

  “I know, but maybe having more people around will actually make it safer.”

  His face said he didn’t think much of that. “What are the reasons in favor of having it here?”

  Chloe faced him, barely a foot of carpet between their toes. She could tell he was preoccupied with something that wasn’t making him happy. His posture was stiff as steel. There was a perfectly good bed right next to them, and a closed door, but the timing just wasn’t right for what should have been obvious next steps. The tension just made her more nervous.

  She put a hand on his arm and tried to pull the frantic jitters from her own voice. “I can pull it off. If I’m on location 24/7 between now and the I-dos, I think I can make this work. It’s very important to me, Sam. I need to make it happen for my career and, well, if I have to sell Jack’s house, isn’t a huge party the perfect way to bid it farewell?”

  Something flickered behind his cool gray eyes. The line of his mouth softened. “Then we’ll do it.”

  She wanted to give him a hug, but right now the line of his body wasn’t inviting that. The shield he kept around his emotions was snapped shut.

  “Thank you,” she said, squeezing his arm. “And if it’s important to me, just think how Leo and Elaine feel.”

  A smile flickered at the corners of his mouth. “No doubt like the center act in a three-ring circus.”

  “I’ll have you know I run a very good circus.” Chloe took a step back, remembering he had been in the middle of a phone call. Was that what his bad mood was all about?

  He narrowed his eyes. “How many times have you planned this wedding?”

  “First it was going to be next summer. Then in two months. Now it’s Saturday.”

  “I thought so. If they get any closer, we can do it over breakfast.” Sam smiled, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “Doing everything this quickly is pretty unusual, isn’t it?”

  “I think it’s safe to say it’s unheard of.”

  “Don’t worry. It’ll all work out.”

  She prayed he was right. “One other thing.”

  “What?”

  She rose on her toes and kissed him lightly on the cheek. Nothing intrusive. Just a reminder that he was more than just her security guy. Sam replied by kissing her lightly on the mouth, but that was it.

  Chloe made her goodbyes and left the bedroom, closing the door behind her. She stood for a moment, her hand still on the door. What was wrong with him? Had something happened? It had to do with that phone call. Is he going to call whoever it was back?

  Curiosity prodded her, but it was none of her business. Yes, it is. I distinctly heard him say something about the dress. Whoever wants the dress. She’d totally skipped over that in her anxiety about moving the wedding.

  She had to know what the conversation was about. Unfortunately, Sam had that irritating talent Uncle Jack had possessed. He seemed to be able to see through doors. So, she walked away, making sure her footfalls were loud enough to hear.

  And then crept back in stocking feet, holding her breath. It had worked with her uncle, sometimes. Tonight, it worked with Sam. She hovered near the door, careful not to bump against the wall.

  “I’ll have the dress. Can you come tonight?”

  Chloe felt her cheeks grow hot. Sam had no right to give the gown to anybody without talking to her first.

  “That’s right,” Sam said after a pause. “It’ll be like throwing down raw meat. Let’s see what animals show up to take a bite.”

  There was another long pause.

  “In the garden, where Jack had that card party. Nine is too early. Make it eleven. That gives enough time to be sure the grapevine knows the details. I’ll call a guy who’ll tell his friends. We’ll see who shows up.”

  Who was he talking to? The Men in Black with a garment bag? Chloe’s temper was stirring. Raw meat? Take a bite?

  It didn’t sound as if he was returning a precious object to its rightful home. This sounded like a secret meeting after dark. Chl
oe leaned closer to the door, straining for every word.

  “I haven’t said anything,” Sam went on. “Getting it will be easy. Knowing who’s after it will be worth the risk.”

  Chloe’s pulse pounded in her throat. Sam was doing the one thing she couldn’t stand. He was leaving her out of the loop. And he’s using the dress Jack left in my care for bait!

  Chapter 18

  How dare he!

  Chloe silently slipped down the hall, eager to put distance between her and Sam. She really, really hadn’t seen this coming. Sam was one of the good guys, or so she’d thought. It was bad enough that he was treating the dress as if he had a right to it—Uncle Jack had entrusted it to her, thank you very much—but Sam was keeping her utterly in the dark.

  What was he about to do that he couldn’t share with her? Nothing that would make her happy. Otherwise, why the secrets?

  She was skilled at reading people, but never the men she liked. As usual, she’d totally misjudged the one person who counted the most. Chloe descended the stairs, only half aware of where she was going. For once, she was grateful Jack’s house was so huge.

  She couldn’t let Sam shut her out. She had a huge stake in all this, too. She might not have the skills to take down the bad guys herself, but she had a right to know what Sam was planning.

  Chloe slipped back into her old bedroom. Flicking on the overhead, she paused by the door. The bloody bedcovers had been stripped from her mattress, leaving it looking oddly naked. Reluctantly, Chloe closed the door behind her, shutting herself in with the memories of being forced to the bed. All the more reason to hurry. The faster she moved, the shorter time she had to stay there.

  Quickly, she crossed the room. She pulled open the drawers of the tall dresser, relieved to see her old clothes from college were still neatly folded inside. Emotion made her fingers tremble, but she cut herself no slack. A quick rummage produced an old black T-shirt, running shoes and a thick fleece jacket. She’d packed jeans when she came but didn’t have anything else casual enough for what she wanted to do.

  In the back of the bottom drawer she found an ankle sheath and knife Jack had given her. If she’d insisted on jogging on campus, he’d insisted she know how to keep herself safe. She’d hated the idea, but now she was glad she’d let him teach her a few things. Finally, she found her old camera. Lexie had given it to her years ago when they’d both been in a nature photography club, and it was far better for taking pictures in the dark than the point-and-shoot she carried now. She stuffed it in her pocket, just in case.

  Chloe took everything back to her room and changed. Strapping on Jack’s SIG Sauer, she did what she could to adjust his shoulder holster. It had definitely not been made for a girl. She finally got it into an acceptable position and then slid the fleece jacket over top. It felt bulky, but then again guns always felt too large to her. Thanks to Jack, she knew how to use them and wasn’t afraid to shoot if she had to. She just prayed it wouldn’t come to that. She was gathering information, nothing more.

  Keeping out of sight, she crept down the stairs, stopping in the room where the security guys kept their stuff and scrounged a pair of night vision goggles. Then she went in search of Sam. He had to be around somewhere. He wasn’t meeting whoever-it-was until eleven.

  A search of the house took her downstairs and eventually outdoors. The night was clean, washed by a drizzle that had quieted to a hazy, starless night. Chloe made a circuit of the house, looking in the windows for signs of Sam.

  It wasn’t until she reached the side yard that she spotted him through the laundry room window. He stood next to a rack of clothes that had been returned from the dry cleaners. To her utter mystification, Sam tore the plastic off a pale dinner gown forgotten by someone who had come to stay for one of Jack’s dinner parties. Normally, the staff would ship it on to the owner, but Sam apparently had other ideas. He was stuffing it into a gym bag, mashing the yards and yards of expensive antique white silk into its bulging maw and struggling with the zipper. What the...? And then it twigged with an electric tingle of amazement.

  The dress was nearly the same shade of antique-white as the wedding gown. Sam wasn’t taking the real wedding dress. Relief made her legs rubbery.

  As soon as she recovered her wits, she ghosted away from the window. Sam was a professional security guy and, like Jack, seemed to have amazing senses. She didn’t think Sam would find her snooping around endearing. He’d be more likely to lock her in with the dryer sheets and scrub brushes.

  Sam emerged through the mudroom door, barely making a sound as he moved. Chloe squished herself into the deep shadows of the wall, holding her breath so that he couldn’t even hear her intake of air. She needn’t have worried. He barely paused to pull the door shut before he was walking through the garden at a brisk clip, the gym bag in one hand.

  Chloe hesitated, counting the reasons to go back to her room. She was inexperienced and Sam seemed to hear everything. One mistake and he’d know she was there. And now she knew at least he wasn’t stealing the dress.

  But none of that changed her purpose. She needed to see who showed up every bit as much as Sam. From what she’d heard, whoever it was on the phone didn’t know it was a substitute gown. Sam was playing an interesting game. And whoever fell for his bait was probably connected to Uncle Jack’s murder.

  A wave of pain and anger welled up inside her. She needed to know who had robbed her of her only real family. That was non-negotiable.

  Moving as quietly as she could, she detached herself from the wall and crept to the head of the path Sam had used to disappear into the still darkness. If she squinted, she could just make out his form, a dim patch of black moving ahead. He’s headed toward the gazebo. That made sense, given what Sam had said to the person on the phone. Jack had held plenty of card parties there.

  With a rush of hard, cold satisfaction, Chloe set out along a separate path, planning to loop around and observe Sam’s rendezvous from an entirely different vantage point, well away from any action. From there she would see everything, but not be seen. It’s okay. Uncle Jack taught you enough to handle this much.

  And Sam wouldn’t have anything to complain about if he never knew she was there.

  * * *

  Set flush with the rock face of a small hill, the gazebo was one of the property’s main features. Covered with wisteria, it was a large wood-and-wrought-iron structure big enough to house a table for eight.

  Sam stood with his back to the structure, listening hard. At first there was nothing—no footsteps, not even a rustle of wind. The rain had stopped, leaving the air not only clean and cool but also washed of scent. He remained perfectly still, needing to hear whoever approached. He had told the regular security to vacate the gardens that night. He didn’t want any unexpected incidents. Still, there were a few people scattered through the grounds.

  The lights from the mansion glowed to his left, giving just enough illumination to see the figure silhouetted under the trees. The shadowy form crept closer, darting between the concealing bulk of the bushes and trees. He—for the figure moved like a man—was of medium height and build, and definitely human. Sam waited until the man was almost to the steps, and then stepped forward to grab his arm.

  The figure made a surprised cry as Sam wrenched him around and slammed him against the gazebo’s wooden porch. As he moved, Sam dropped the bag with the fake dress to the grass.

  Like a striking hawk, another man swooped from the darkness to snatch it up, vampire-fast. Startled, Sam nearly let his prisoner slip from his grasp. Didn’t see that one coming.

  With a curse, Sam slammed the human to the ground, pinning him. The man whimpered, but Sam doubted he was doing any real damage. Then he saw the bandage above the man’s collar, and recognized him as Chloe’s attacker.

  “Now I’ve got you,” he snarled.

  �
��Not before my friend gets you,” the human replied.

  Sam glanced up at the vampire, who was lingering a few yards away. The vampire’s face was hidden beneath a hood, but Sam could see his Smith & Wesson clearly enough. “What are you hanging around for?” Sam snarled at Hood Guy. “You’ve got what you came for.”

  The only reply came when the vampire jacked a bullet into the chamber of his weapon. At the same moment, Sam became aware of someone moving along the rocky hill behind the gazebo. He caught the scent of lemon perfume.

  Nine hells! Chloe! His gut seemed to make a corkscrew move, twisting until he thought he’d be sick. What the blazes is she doing here? Anger warred with panic. He absolutely couldn’t let her be hurt. There were too many guns, too many possibilities for a stray bullet. He had to end this fast.

  He didn’t want to let his captive go, but he needed his hands free. Sam jumped to his feet, raising his gun in answer to the vampire’s Smith & Wesson. The human scrambled upright and bolted, as Sam knew he would—but guarding Chloe came first.

  “Your friend’s free, now what do you want?” Sam snarled. “Get out of here.”

  The S&W fired, sending a bullet inches from Sam’s cheek. A warning shot, but it was enough to make Sam flinch. A split second later, a muzzle flash flared from above the gazebo, and the vampire spun to his right, cursing with pain. Regular bullets couldn’t kill, but they sure hurt.

  “Chloe, duck!” Sam cried, dropping to one knee and sending three neatly clustered rounds Hood Guy’s way.

  The vampire dodged, but still managed to send a shot toward Chloe’s hiding place. Chips flew from the wood and the bullet ricocheted from the wrought iron frame, rattling into the bushes.

  Sam swore, emptying his clip. But when his sight cleared from the flare of the gunfire, his opponent had dissolved into the night.

  Sam clamped down on his emotions, forcing his head to stay clear, and slammed another clip into his gun. “Chloe, are you all right?”

  “Yes.” Chloe’s voice sounded small, but he smelled no human blood.