Line Of Sight Part 12

But Stefan had stopped, and the look on his face-"What?" she asked. "What's wrong?"

He spread a hand over her rib cage, and she looked down. Beneath the spread of his fingers, her skin was livid red, brown, black, blue, green...a rainbow of bruising. "My G.o.d," he said. "What happened?"

"I told you before. There was a firefight."

His head came up, quickly. "You were shot?"

"No, my bulletproof vest was shot. I got a couple of bruises."

"Katie, that's not a couple of bruises!" He looked, and sounded, appalled. "Did you go to the hospital?"

"I've had worse."

"That's not an answer!" He pressed slightly, and she winced. "Are you sure those aren't broken?"

"Stefan. They're not broken. They don't even hurt that much. It's just bruises. I'll live."

He gave her a look, then bestowed a light kiss in the dark center of the area, where it ached the most. "I think we should wait," he said. "That can't be comfortable for you-"

For answer, she grabbed him, threw him flat on the bed and straddled him. And smiled.

"Trust me," she said. "I'm tougher than I look."

"Oh," he said faintly. "Well, I'm not, so please warn me before you-But you can keep on doing that, I'm not going to be complaining...." His eyes drifted half-closed, looking up at her as she leaned forward, her weight moving in slow circles against him. "Katie-" he made her name a caress "-twenty-seven minutes."

She couldn't quite remember how his pants ended up on the floor-magic, probably-but she remembered, vividly, peeling down the fabric of his shorts, remembered the full, powerful burn of undisguised need in his eyes, remembered...

...oh, everything. Every nerve firing hot, every square inch of skin caressed, every damp kiss and silken slide of body on body. He fitted with her perfectly, and if he was using some mad psychic ability to read her emotions and tailor his lovemaking, she was entirely in favor, because it was utterly, completely mind-blowing.

She was lying spent and sweating on his chest, still trembling with aftershocks and idly tracing his lips with her fingertips, when Stefan murmured, "We're twenty-two minutes into overtime."

"Overtime?" she said. "I haven't even started the second quarter of play."

"Oh." And then, faintly, he said, "Glad you bought the three-pack."

The phone call came an hour later, when they were dozing in each other's arms, temporarily sated. Katie rolled up and out of bed, grabbed the phone and listened tensely.

"No progress," she said over her shoulder to Stefan. "Thank you, Captain. Listen, does the name Calipatria mean anything to you? Is it a town?"

"Yeah," Captain Menchaca said. "Out by the Salton Sea and the gunnery range, you know? Off Highway 111 on the California side. Why? You got a lead?"

"Yes," she said. "Get on the phone with the California Highway Patrol and ask them to focus their search with the hub at Calipatria, radiating west on 111 and 78. Check the side roads. Any other freeways they can intersect with from there?"

"If they're going south, they could go up to Los Angeles or down to San Diego. Either way."

"We don't know which they'll take," she said. "Cover the whole stretch, if possible. Thanks. I'm on my way."

She hung up and headed for the bathroom. She looked back, blinked, and saw that Stefan was sitting up in bed, watching her.

"Well?" she asked. "Are you showering with me?"

He scrambled out from the tangle of sheets to follow.

They didn't speak until they were in the car; for some reason, Katie felt a kind of serenity between the two of them that had been missing before. An acceptance. Words seemed a little...superfluous just now. They were together. She didn't know how long it would last, but it was hers, and a single spark of brilliance in a day that had grown increasingly dark.

Stefan faded away as she drove, keeping his connection with Teal open, though for shorter periods. Caution or prudence, Katie wasn't sure which, but she hadn't asked him to do it-he'd simply a.s.sumed she would want him to. That was a genuine gift to her. If it had a personal cost, he kept her unaware of it, though she thought his face grew paler over time, and he seemed less able to come back to her quickly. That can't be good for him, she thought. The human brain wasn't meant to do that.

They were about half an hour outside of Calipatria when her misgivings proved true. Stefan had quietly faded out, leaving an empty, breathing sh.e.l.l, and returned with the same gasping urgency that she'd seen in the hotel room, and earlier, at the apartment complex. Something wrong. Something badly wrong.

She reached out with her right hand and touched his shoulder, then the beard-rough texture of his cheek. "Stefan? You all right?" He didn't answer her, but he grabbed her hand in his and held it tight, very tight. His eyes were open, staring straight ahead, and as she stole fast glimpses at him from the dark road they were traveling, he seemed out of it, still.

"Stefan?" she asked again. "Can you hear me?"

His hand was shaking, and he hadn't let go.

"I'm going to pull over."

"No." His voice was hoa.r.s.e, barely recognizable this time as his own. "No, we have to keep going. They were stopped. Two Highway Patrol cars on Highway 78, heading northwest toward I-10."

She'd eased off the gas, but now she pressed down again, feeling a surge of exultation sweep through her like a strong breeze. "See?" She grinned. "I told you. Teamwork."

"They're dead," he said, and closed his eyes to drop his head back against the headrest. "Oh my G.o.d, they're dead. Three cops. The fourth-they left the fourth one dying. You have to get him help, Katie. I don't know if they got a radio message out."

Her joy turned to shock. "You're sure?"

"I saw it." He didn't open his eyes. His thick, dark lashes were wet. "The ones in the van opened up on them point-blank. Two of the officers went down before they even knew what was happening. One of them got off a couple of shots, but-"

"Stefan, give me an exit number, a mile marker, anything!"

He was silent for a few seconds, then said, "I'll try." And then he was gone again. Katie waited tensely, drumming her fingers on the steering wheel, cursing the night and curving road that slowed her down.

"The van's moving again," Stefan said. "They just pa.s.sed an exit, number seventy-three. I couldn't see the mile markers...s.h.i.+t!"

Katie looked at him, startled, as Stefan clapped both hands to his nose and fumbled for the box of tissues sitting in the floorboard. Nosebleed. A bad one. He tilted his head back and applied pressure, and Katie cursed silently and reached over to stroke his cheek again, then cupped her hand at the back of his neck. He felt cold again, and damp.

"Don't," she said. "Don't try again. That's enough."

"I'm not leaving her alone," he mumbled around the tissues pressed to his nose. They were soaking through with vivid red. "I can't."

"You're killing yourself!"

"It's a nosebleed, Katie. And you got shot today. Don't talk to me about killing yourself." He sounded shaken and furious and annoyingly stubborn. "They're kids, and I'm not leaving them alone there if I can help it. I have to let her know-"

He was trying to communicate with Teal, not just observe. No wonder he was blowing blood vessels. "Stefan, do you think she can sense you now? When you're there?"

He nodded, exhausted. "I can't talk to her, but she can feel my presence. I'm sure she's trying to send me messages, it's just that I can't-I'm not strong enough. I'm trying."

No wonder they wanted to kill him, Katie thought. He wouldn't give up. She'd known from the beginning that he was persistent, but now she was seeing the steel, and the steel went deep. He was as dangerous to himself as any hired killer, but she couldn't fault him for that-she was too much like that herself.

"Rest for a while," she said. "I'm calling it in."

Cell coverage was patchy, at best, but she managed to get through to Menchaca, who sent word on down line. It was the best they could do. She took the Highway 78 turnoff and edged the FBI-issue sedan well past the legal limits, rocketing northwest toward I-10.

Stefan, whether he wanted to or not, had taken her advice; he'd fallen asleep by the time they came within sight of the flas.h.i.+ng police lights. Ambulances were on the scene, and Katie coasted up to the barricades and rolled down her window to show her credentials to the uniformed officer on duty. The intersection was a crime scene, and they'd set up harsh arc lights for the forensic techs. Katie parked on the shoulder, trying to let Stefan sleep as she eased her door shut, and went in search of the on-scene commander. Please, G.o.d, give me some good news, she thought, and stopped, out of courtesy, at the edge of the brilliantly lit tableau. Two Highway Patrol cruisers, one with both doors open and a bullet-shattered winds.h.i.+eld. Three still forms left uncovered to the night air while the crime-scene doc.u.menters and techs did their work.

"You're Agent Rush?"

Katie turned to see a tiny dark-haired Hispanic woman standing at her elbow. She was dressed in a well-tailored uniform, had gleaming perfect skin. She extended a delicate hand, which Katie shook. She didn't smile, but then, the situation hardly called for it. "I'm Lieutenant Arellano," she said. "On-scene commander. Thanks for the heads-up. It may save Officer Warren's life."

"I hope so," Katie said sincerely, and felt a breath of relief. He was still alive, at least. "I'm sorry for the loss of the other officers."

Arellano looked even grimmer. "It was a duck shoot, and they shouldn't have been caught like this. They knew they were doing a stop-and-search for extremely dangerous people. Our thoughts are that the captors used the girls for cover and shot from behind them. That would have made it nearly impossible for our guys to return fire."

Sick, and effective. Katie nodded without speaking.

"Got another FBI team on the way," Arellano said. "This isn't just a small event anymore, it's a major manhunt. I've been told to tell you that you're officially relieved."

Katie, who'd turned away, spun toward her, shocked. "That's not possible!"

Arellano shrugged. "Take it up with your boss. I'm just the messenger, but Special Agent Evangelista says come home."

She couldn't do that. Couldn't.

"Thank you for pa.s.sing the message, Lieutenant," she said. "You have the information about the van's current location?"

"Not up to the minute, but we'll head them off."

Katie no longer had any confidence that would be true, but she shook the woman's hand and went back to her car without protest. Protesting wouldn't do any good, and she'd already made her decision.

It might mean her career, but she couldn't explain to Evangelista why she needed to be here. To do this. These girls, they were family to her, and now she was responsible for even more.

Somehow, she'd become responsible for Stefan Blackman, too.

Stefan was awake again. His nose had stopped bleeding, thankfully, but he looked worse than before. His skin had a papery, translucent quality that made Katie even more worried. "Is he alive? The officer?" Stefan asked.

She buckled her seat belt. "Yes. It's touch and go, but he's alive. Stefan, when you saw the shootings-where were Teal and Lena?"

"Right in front," he said. "They were in the doorway, and the kidnappers shot around them. They used them as s.h.i.+elds, Katie."

She didn't say anything else, just eased the car into gear and drove on the shoulder around the crime scene, to the access road for the freeway. Traffic should have been light at this no-man's-land hour, but she supposed traffic to and from Los Angeles never really stopped. It took concentration to merge into the sea of fast-moving cars and eighteen wheelers, heading west.

"You're upset," Stefan said.

"Of course I'm upset. There are three dead police officers-"

"Something else. Something personal." He opened weary eyes. "Is it me?"

"No. It's-They're trying to pull me off the case. Send me back home."

"Can't do that," Stefan murmured. "I'd have to train a whole new agent, and besides, I try to make love with only one incredible woman a day. Anything else just looks greedy."

She snorted. "You're unbelievable."

"Bet you say that to all the psychics." His smile faded. "Seriously, Katie, what are you going to do?"

"Take advantage of a loophole," she said. "Even if I wanted to back off, I'd have to go to Los Angeles to get a flight out, right? And since I'm already heading that direction..."

"So staying on the case, that's purely for efficiency."

"Absolutely." She paused for a second, listening to the hiss of tires, the humming vibration of the road. "Look, I can't back off. If I do, they'll never believe you, not in time, and you're the key to keeping track of these perps. They'll get lost fast once they hit the city, and I have to believe they have a way out. Unless they're delivering the girls to a final destination here, they'll be heading for some kind of transportation. I don't think it would be a commercial flight-too hard to get them on board without somebody seeing something, and way too easy for the girls to raise a fuss. Same for any other kind of public transportation. Even a private plane might be tough."

"So you think they're going to hand the girls over to someone else? Why?"

"Let's just say it's a hunch," she said. "And it's a hope. The more hands the girls go through, the better our chances of finding them before they get to where they're going. And the better our chances of catching who's behind this."

Stefan looked sober. "You could try telling your boss all this. Making him understand."

"Stefan, I'm in the middle of it and I'm not sure I understand. And let's just say I'm predisposed to believing crazy things are possible."

"Because of the Athena Academy?"

He was way too close to the truth, and she didn't answer him. After a few minutes he settled himself more comfortably, sighed, and drifted off into that strange trance state.

He was still gone when the premonition hit her-a hot tingle up her spine, a pressure coming at her from her left, on the driver's side of the car. It was just a second's warning, just enough. She gasped and instantly hit the brakes, twisting the wheel to the right and digging the tires into the gravel shoulder.

The other car almost overshot them, but the two vehicles still hit at a huge force, and Katie's hands were knocked off the steering wheel. The air was full of flying gla.s.s, ripping metal. She felt her seat belt snap tight, locking her in place, and instinctively turned her face away from the shattering driver's-side window. Something hit her head with stunning force, and a blip of a thought ran through her mind in the instant before everything went dark: Not now!

Stefan came back to the world in slow, tortured seconds. He could feel cold air on his face, and then a second later heard the tinkle of shattered gla.s.s. .h.i.tting concrete. In the next heartbeat he felt the hot spark of cuts and bruises, one or two burning especially hot.

He opened his eyes and looked dazedly into the muzzle of a gun.

There was a guy leaning in the window of the car, and he had a gun, and he was aiming it right between Stefan's eyes, and Stefan believed, absolutely, that his life was over.

Time slowed down. He could see every flick of light pa.s.sing over the other man's face, every glittering spark reflected in his eyes. Every mote of dust in the air between them.

He thought he'd actually see the bullet when it left the chamber. Bullet catch, his speeding brain informed him, but the bullet catch was an illusion, it was a trick, it couldn't possibly be done.

He was dead.

And then he wasn't, because the gunman screamed, staggered and went down, out of sight below the frame of the door. Stefan blinked. None of this seemed to be making sense. Shouldn't they be moving? Driving? How could they be parked on the side of the road...

He realized that the white haze of cracks in front of him was the shattered winds.h.i.+eld, and put it slowly together. Oh. We crashed.

A bloodied face appeared in the window where the gunman had been, and it panted, "Christ, Stefan, you could at least duck!" The door creaked open with a dry shriek of bent metal, and she leaned in to unhook his restraints. "Guess those side air bags really work, eh?"

Katie. His lips shaped her name, but he couldn't get it out past the lump in his throat. She grabbed him by the shoulder and hauled him out of the car. He stumbled over the p.r.o.ne body of the man who'd held the gun-the gun was now in Katie's right hand-and the body didn't move. Still breathing, Stefan saw. But definitely not in the fight.

"What-"