Redemption Page 4

  Zach stopped at the edge of the room. He’d heard she worked her way up from a night-grunt security guard to head of security for the building. She was dressed in a tailored dark pantsuit and low sensible heels, just as she was earlier today when she came to his hospital room. Her face, while still too piqued for his liking, was now fairly animated. She’d been a beauty, now she was but a mere shell of it. Her radiance had dulled. A dark hollowness filled her eyes. And he was responsible for it.

  Zach sucked in a deep breath and slowly exhaled. Regret filled his soul.

  • • •

  Danica’s skin warmed. Her heart rate cranked up several notches. She dismissed the feeling, trying to focus on her conversation with the man who had stood stalwartly by her these last three years. Asking nothing, offering only his shoulder.

  She held her breath, and tensed, waiting for the unnerving feelings to pass. Seconds pounded by. Gone. Letting out a long breath when the world did not come crashing down around her, she relaxed.

  The sensation returned. It built, too persistent to ignore.

  Zach.

  She felt him long before she saw him. She always could. It was an odd sixth sense she had when it came to Zach Garett. She knew the minute he entered the building.

  Impossible!

  Zach was in the hospital, weak as a puppy, where he’d been fighting for his life for three days. There was no way he could be here.

  There! She felt it again. His presence. Stronger now.

  Her heart rate fluttered and climbed. Her mouth became dry and her hands trembled. To hide that annoying fact she slid them into her pants pockets and continued her conversation with Mark Santos.

  Zach’s pull was too strong. Danica looked up and locked shocked eyes with the only man she’d ever loved. Her body surged and she leashed the impulse to rush to him. Then it locked. Frozen. Immobile. Instead she could only stare speechless at him. His haunted look shook her to her core. Something was very wrong. She felt Mark stiffen beside her.

  Zach’s body increased in size. A primal warning.

  His penetrating stare shifted from Mark back to her. His lips twitched and she immediately knew his signature half smile would follow. She scowled, daring him. Mark turned when he realized her attention was no longer on him. Zach’s eyes flashed in surprise before narrowing ominously. He stepped forward and into the large room being renovated for the Caladian exhibit.

  “Well, well, well, Marcus, you certainly don’t waste any time, do you?” Zach said, his voice low and husky. Danica gasped. Just two hours ago he could barely move. He’d had a trach tube in his throat and couldn’t speak! With the exception of the small flesh-colored Band-Aid below his Adam’s apple he looked the picture of health. Better actually. The dark stubble on his chin added a mercenary look to his hawk-sharp features. His deep tawny eyes glowed suspiciously, like a bird of prey fixated on its next meal. Her body warmed despite her anger at the man.

  “What do you want, Zach?” she asked, trying to head off what looked like an impending dogfight. While she wouldn’t mind seeing Zach get his ass whipped by Mark, she didn’t want any disruption in the museum.

  “Holy shit!” Mark said in good humor and surprise. He hurried past Danica toward his partner. “I can’t believe you’re standing here, man. I heard you’d be down for weeks. How the hell are you?” He extended his hand in friendship.

  Zach’s nostrils twitched and his eyes widened as if he were suddenly startled. The distinct odor of sulfur swirled around his partner. Mark, an Immortal?

  Adrenaline rushed through Zach’s body and before he gave thought to his action instinct took over. He leapt, clearing the ten-foot span that separated him and his deadly rival.

  Zach’s body crashed into Mark’s, the velocity of it sending them both crashing into the wall a good eight feet behind Mark. Plaster cracked and fell in chunks to the floor.

  Danica’s screams sounded far off. Mark shoved him off, his strength surprising Zach. But then he understood. As a solider for hell he would possess strength no mortal man could claim. Zach grinned. Well, he might be mortal but he had righteousness on his side. He dove back into Mark, and would have pulled the sword and slit his throat right then and there, but he knew Danica would wig out, and no explanation on earth would calm her down. He shoved his arm under Mark’s chin and dug his elbow in the bastard’s throat. “I want you out of here now,” he softly said. Surprisingly Mark nodded and in a gesture of surrender raised his arms. Zach didn’t trust the bastard, but he didn’t underestimate Mark either. The man was smart, and the last thing he would want to do at this point was tip Danica off. That was okay, Zach was going to give her an earful himself.

  Danica grabbed Zach by the shoulders, shouting, “What the hell are you doing? Get out of here!”

  Slowly Zach stood. He stepped back, away from Mark. Danica helped Mark to his feet. “Oh, my God! Are you all right?”

  Mark swiped at his bloody lip after giving Zach a hard glare. Then being the actor he was, Mark slipped an arm around Danica’s shoulder and said, “I’m fine.”

  Danica turned to glare at Zach. “Please leave,” she softly said.

  Without looking at her, his eyes trained on Mark’s smug face, Zach said, “I will, but I’d appreciate it if you’d indulge me for a few minutes before I go.”

  Their gazes clashed. “I don’t owe you one minute of my time.”

  “Maybe you should listen to the lady, buddy,” Mark said, stepping in front of Danica.

  Zach smiled and assumed a fighting stance. “Bring it on, brother.”

  Confusion riddled her features as Danica looked back and forth from one man to the other. “What the hell is going on here?” Danica demanded.

  Mark laughed, his eyes sparkling, a dark undercurrent lurking just beneath. “You want to tell her, Zachary, or should I?”

  Zach growled low. He turned his attention back to Danica but kept a sharp eye on his nemesis. “Danica, I need two minutes.” He’d be damned if he was going to let Santos give his demonic version of what was going on, and besides, he wasn’t sure Danica could handle the entire truth.

  Danica left Mark and walked over to Zach. She pushed him back toward the entryway. “I’ll give you two minutes in my office,” she said, then turned and led the way down a long hall then another before they entered her small office tucked innocuously in the farthest corner of the building. Once in the room she slammed the door shut behind Zach then whirled around to face him. “What the hell do you want?”

  Zach ground his teeth. His fists opened and closed, strength surged through his muscles. He could feel the pulse of it. His senses opened, acutely aware of everything around him.

  He could smell Danica’s essence. It mingled with her fear of him, and lurking just beneath it, passion.

  “When did you and Mark become so close?”

  “Nothing about me is any of your damned business.”

  Zach moved closer. Hostility raged. Not at her, but Mark. The minute he stepped within feet of the man he smelled it. Sulfur. A fucking Immortal! “Tell me, damn it!”

  Danica blanched at his anger, and backed away, fear flashed in her wide eyes. “He’s helping with security for the event we have planned. And whether you like it or not, he’s my friend.”

  It cut deeply that she was afraid of him at that moment, but that was the least of his worries right now. Mark needed to go. Discreetly. That fact didn’t faze him. Since the accident, he felt deeper, was stronger, and even if he hadn’t got a whiff of the sulfur stink of Mark, signaling which side of the earth he was on, his gut told him Mark was pure evil. He knew that as surely as he knew the sword lying against the small of his back would be Mark’s ride back to hell. “Get rid of him.”

  “Is that what you came here to tell me? Are you so jealous I’ve moved on?”

  “You haven’t moved on. I can see it in everything you do. It’s in your eyes.” He moved closer, his nostrils flaring. “I can smell it on you, Danica.”


  She slapped him. “Fuck you, Zach Garett.”

  He grabbed her hand. She tried to pull away but his strength surged. He opened her fist with one hand and pressed her palm to his cheek. For a moment he closed his eyes and inhaled the sweet scent of her. Her hand trembled. He opened his eyes to see hers moist with tears. One fell to her cheek.

  He wiped it away with his thumb. “I never told you I was sorry.”

  Her features darkened, and she yanked her hand away. He could have kept her captive, but he didn’t.

  “You are the sorriest excuse for a man and a cop I’ve had the misfortune to meet. What do you want?”

  Zach struggled with his emotions. Danica Keller was the only person on the earth who could make him forget words. She was in so many ways his Achilles’ heel. He cursed Michael for using that fact against him.

  Michael.

  And what the hell was he supposed to tell her? The truth? He cringed. Damn it!

  CHAPTER THREE

  * * *

  “SPIT IT OUT, ZACH. I have a shipment I need to oversee.”

  “The one from Caladia?”

  Startled, she looked up at him. “How do you know about Caladia?”

  “It’s why I’m here.”

  Danica’s heart constricted for one millisecond. She’d hoped for some unknown reason that maybe he was there for her. It was futile—Zach didn’t have it in him to love. And her? After all this time seeing him again? He still screwed with her heart.

  Her resolve galvanized. “Of course it is.” Sarcasm dripped off her words. She whirled around to the door and jerked it open. “Get out, Zach, and don’t come back.”

  He stepped past her and put his hand over hers on the knob. He squeezed and pushed forward, closing the door. His large body pressed against her back, his heat encompassing her like a warm blanket. She closed her eyes briefly, gritting her teeth and forcing the heat in her body to cool.

  She stood flush against the closed door. His left hand touched her elbow, his fingertips brushing the fabric of her suit. He barely applied pressure, yet it felt as if they were skin on skin. Dormant passion flared in her brain like a red-hot sun whose rays sliced into her nerves, lighting her up.

  Zach Garrett was a hard man, but his passion ran deep. How could she resist this dark moody man? The way his lips flickered when she walked into the room or the way he made her laugh with his dry humor? How could she resist a man who took foster kids by the dozens to As games?

  She turned, wresting her hand from under his grip, her breath high in her throat. How could she not despise the man who lied to keep his job knowing she would lose hers? How could she allow a stone-cold murderer into her heart? Anger, frustration, and shame mixed into a toxic cocktail.

  Danica slapped him with all the fury of a woman scorned. She watched the blanching of her fingerprints on his dark cheek rise. He didn’t flinch. Instead he moved closer, his long hard body now pressed fully against hers. She felt the hot heat of his passion against her belly. A low growl rumbled in his throat. His hands dove into her hair, pulling the long tresses free from the bun at the nape of her neck. His lips slanted across hers. The contact sent her reeling backward against the door. The sound of her head thumping and her gasp of surprise did nothing to quell Zach’s passionate attack. He pressed his body harder against hers, his groin digging into her.

  She gasped for air and his tongue slid into her mouth, thick and hot. She arched in an attempt to push him away but it only served to fuel his fire. And hers. Passion flared between them, a real live wire. Her nipples tingled. Heat swept to the juncture between her thighs. Her fists relaxed. She pushed harder against him now, her lips opening for more, wanting, needing, demanding.

  Zach gasped for breath, the rawness in his throat throbbing in tempo to the throb in his dick. God, she tasted sweet. His body ached for more, his heart for all. But he had nothing to give in return. He was a cold-blooded killer, and every time she looked at him he could see the horror of his deeds reflected in her eyes.

  He shoved her away from him and stepped back to a safe distance.

  Danica’s full swollen lips, long hair in sexy disarray around her shoulders, and that wild hot look in her eyes he used to live for nearly did him in. He would gladly lie down and die for that look, but he couldn’t. Not now, maybe never. They had the fucking world to save. He knew he’d lost his mind.

  “I’m sorry, Danica, I—”

  Her hysterical laughter stopped him. She pushed off the door then in a short jerky movement, worked her hair back into a respectable bun. Shaking her head, her laughter quieting, she moved past him to her desk where she sat down. “Fuck you, Zach Garett, and the horse you came in on. Get out of here before I shoot your ass.”

  “Hear me out first.”

  Sitting back in her chair, she put her feet up on her desk and clasped her hands behind her head. “What?”

  “The shipment from Caladia, it has artifacts in it.”

  “No shit, Sherlock. In case you haven’t noticed you’re in a museum.”

  “There is a scabbard, with a jeweled star imbedded in it.”

  “So what if there is?”

  “You can’t give it to Zao.”

  “I have no intention of giving it to Zao.” She swept her feet off the desk, sat up and frowned. “How do you know about Zao?”

  Zach rubbed his temples. A sudden migraine erupted behind his eyes. “I can’t explain.” If he did she would shoot him. “I—just know.” He stopped rubbing and looked at her through narrowed eyes. “What are your plans for it?”

  Danica folded her hands on the desk and steepled her fingers. For a long moment she contemplated him. “The museum is going to loan it to Mr. Zao in exchange for a ten-million-dollar bequest.”

  “You can’t, Danica. That scabbard cannot go to Zao from you.”

  “Sorry to disappoint, big guy, but that was part of the deal. I hand it over to him in a big ol’ ceremony with the press and God to witness.”

  “Why you?”

  Her brows furrowed.

  Zach explained. “Why does it have to be you, the security head, to hand it over? Why not the curator?”

  “I was told that was how Mr. Zao wanted it handled.”

  “What would you do if I told you Zao was going to use the scabbard for illegal purposes?”

  Danica laughed. “What, is he going to go on a killing spree in Fremont with it?”

  “Maybe.”

  Danica eyed him cryptically and sat forward. “Zach, I think they let you out of the hospital too soon.”

  He rubbed his throbbing temple and for a minute thought she might be right. He felt cold and clammy suddenly and the room teetered. Shaking the cobwebs from his head, he turned his gaze back to Danica, who sat calmly regarding him. The old Danica would have rushed to his side. This hard Danica, the one he’d created, sat stoic as an oak.

  “Something happened to me, Dani. I can’t explain it, but I have this thing inside me, warning bells. You’re in danger, this museum is in danger, and it’s tied somehow to a three-thousand-year-old scabbard.”

  “Four thousand years old. The only thing missing is the Sword of Caladia.” In answer, the sword at his back warmed. Son of a bitch! Zach reached behind him and slowly withdrew the sword.

  Danica stood, her eyes wide in wonder. Maybe seeing the sword would convince her. He held it in front of him. “I think this may be what goes into the scabbard.”

  Her eyes grew larger. She reached out to touch it. Heat flared in his hand. Zach pulled it away. Would it hurt her?

  “Where did you get that?”

  How did one tell a perfectly sane person you died, were on your way to burn in hell, then some guy named Michael plucked you from your fall, gave you a sword and told you to go save the world?

  “The Immortals want the Star of Moria.”

  “The who want the what?” Danica laughed. “C’mon, Zach. You can do better than this fairy tale.”

  Zach’s skin shivered. “T
he Immortals. We have to stop them. They want the star, it’s the key to—a prison.” He stopped short. His temple seared in pain.

  Danica moved closer to Zach, still skeptical and more than a little wary. She put her hand to his brow; it was cool and damp. “What kind of medication are you on?”

  “None.”

  “I don’t believe you. From what I heard you were dead on the scene. Your larynx was crushed. They gave you a trach tube. Your body took a beating rolling around in the crash. And you’re out three days later? No drugs? You couldn’t speak this morning.”

  She shook her head. None of it added up. “Explain how you’re here.”

  Zach’s free hand shook as he reached out to touch her. She withdrew but kept a steadying hand on his shoulder to guide him to the chair in front of her desk. “Sit down, Zach.”

  He did and she unscrewed the cap off the bottle of water on her desk and handed it to him. He shook his head but she pressed it into his hand. He took a long drink. She watched as his Adam’s apple jumped up and down with each swallow, the Band-Aid on his neck moving with it. No way could he not be on painkillers. The trauma to his head must have shaken a few brain cells loose. He was speaking like a crazy person. He obviously was not emotionally stable.

  She glanced down at the sword in his hand. But how did she explain that?

  He drained the bottle and set it down on her desk. “What the hell is going on, Zach, and don’t feed me bullshit lines about Immortals.”

  As the words left her mouth he felt the pressure of them all around him. They were near. He could feel it. Waiting, wanting the sword, the scabbard, the star, and Danica.

  A vision of Danica hanging naked and ripe with child in iron manacles, the fires of hell flashing around her sweaty, writhing body, pierced his consciousness. She cried out to him, her voice raw with emotion, begging him to save her and their child.

  An overwhelming sense of duty filled him. Sensation filled his body, supercharging his cells, and he suddenly knew what he had to do.

  His eyes rose to hers, the blue nearly black in the bright light of her office. “Your mother had the same port-wine birthmark on her inner thigh as you do.”