Into the Mist (Falcon Mercenary Group #1)(59)

“It scared me worse than the bullies I was facing down. But then they ran into the alley. I was so sure I was busted, but they couldn’t see me. They looked right through me and then ran back out.”

“Bet you didn’t think it was so scary then,” she teased.

He grimaced. “I was still scared shitless. I was in total panic thinking I’d never materialize again. And then suddenly I was back. Just like that. I ran the entire way home just seconds away from crapping in my pants.”

She laughed and rubbed her cheek over his chest, burrowing a little deeper into his embrace.

“When I got home, I burst into my parents’ Bible study. They were pretty pissed because no one interrupts the word of the Lord. Then I spilled my story, and all they did was stare at me like I’d lost my mind. Then my mother started muttering about the evils of television and how they needed to start a prayer session for little boys who told tales.

“I knew they weren’t going to listen to me so I shut my eyes and willed myself to disappear. This time I became smoke. It was the freakiest thing. I could see them, and I could see the wisps of smoke. I can still remember the looks of horror on their faces. I couldn’t hold onto it long, and I materialized again.”

He broke off and fell silent for a long moment.

She sat up again and touched his cheek as if she could sense his discomfort. Discomfort. What a word. He was reliving the day his parents had disowned him, and all he could drum up to describe the feeling was discomfort.

“What happened then?” she asked softly.

“They, uh, wigged out.”

“That bad, huh.”

He nodded. “Yeah. They packed up and left with the church. It’s kinda funny now. They thought I was the Antichrist.”

Her eyes were wide with shock. “They left you?”

He shrugged. “Yeah.”

“Oh, Eli, I’m so sorry,” she said in dismay. “What did you do?”

He cracked a rueful smile. “Well, I can tell you what I didn’t do. I didn’t go around broadcasting the fact that I could do neat little smoke tricks. I was on my own until the local cops figured out my parents had split. They made a half-hearted effort to locate them, and I ended up in foster care.”

“Foster care?”

“Yeah, it’s sorta like an orphanage, I guess.”

She frowned.

“Not like yours, I don’t imagine,” he murmured. “Foster care is when a family agrees to take in a child who either doesn’t have parents or has been taken from them. Anyway, I was in and out of homes until I graduated high school. Then I joined the military, and the rest, as they say, is history.”

“And your parents?” she asked. “Did you ever see them again?”

He cleared his throat. “Not exactly. I went to their funeral when I was eighteen.”

“What happened?”

“Mass suicide,” he said with a grimace. “Freaking cult they ran around with decided to pull another Jim Jones and kill themselves. The thing is, all during the funeral, all I could think was that they’d done me a huge favor by ditching me. If I’d stayed with them, I’d probably be brainwashed and dead alongside them.”

“Wow,” she breathed. “That doesn’t make my childhood sound so bad now.”

He wrapped his arms tighter around her. “I was okay, Tyana. No one ever abused me like they did you.”

“We’re both survivors,” she said simply.

He kissed the top of her head. “That we are, sugar. That we are.”

She wrapped her body sensuously around his, her legs twining like silken threads with his.

“Make love to me again,” she whispered.

She turned her face up to his and their lips brushed and held.

“I thought you’d never ask.”

Chapter Twenty-Four

Somewhere between the haziness of her dream world and the pleasurable aftermath of their lovemaking, Tyana heard the beep of her communicator. She struggled out from the layers of fog surrounding her like a comforting cloak and quietly extricated herself from Eli’s arms and legs.

“You all right, sugar?”

Eli’s sleepy voice brushed over her ears, the sound giving her a warm buzz.

“I think I just heard from Tits,” she said as she got up and walked naked toward the couch.

She dug into the backpack and pulled out the slim mobile unit. Eli came in behind her and sat down on the couch next to her as she opened the case and entered a series of passcodes.

In a few moments, the message flashed on the screen. She scanned rapidly over it. Classic Tits, no beating around the bush. Just the necessary information.

She glanced up at Eli who had leaned forward. “Esteban is currently holed up in Germany. Neu Ulm. Breeding ground for radical terrorists. Coincidence, huh.”

“Yeah, I doubt it,” Eli muttered.

“It’s not going to be easy to go in after Esteban,” she murmured. “That area is already under so much scrutiny. Security is tight. Tits arranged a house as well as a cover. We’re a team of photo journalists traveling through Germany. Still, it’s going to be risky.”

“Every mission is,” Eli said. “Esteban’s desire to stay alive will help us. He’s a rich son of a bitch, and I bet he’s lining some local pockets there. He probably funds half the terrorist activity.”