In Destiny’s Shadow Page 2

  And her nerves were humming as if she were still too close to that live wire.

  She struggled to draw air into her lungs. She tasted smoke and ozone…and warm male skin. Her lips tingled where she touched the stranger’s throat. A shiver shook her body. The hair at the nape of her neck stirred.

  He rolled off her. “Are you hurt?”

  She shook her head and opened her eyes. He was kneeling at her hip, a large, dark silhouette against the fire that crackled behind him. She could see the outline of his square jaw and caught a glint of gold at his ear but she couldn’t see his face. The fire was the only illumination—the streetlights beyond the alley had gone black.

  He leaned over to run his hands along her arms and down her legs. He lingered at her knees. “I don’t think that’s your blood on your skirt.”

  “No. It’s Fredo’s. I just was talking to him. I can’t believe—”

  “I saw what happened. I’m sorry. Was he a friend of yours?”

  “I didn’t even know his last name. Oh, God, he—” Her voice broke.

  He slipped one arm under her back to help her sit up. “Can you walk?”

  She swallowed hard before she could speak again. “Yes, I’m fine. I’m just…winded. What you did back there…” She sounded scared. Well, she was scared, and she felt sick. But at least she was alive. “Thank you.”

  “You’re welcome. Sorry if I hurt you when I grabbed you.”

  “We both could have been shot. And that wire—”

  “We got lucky.”

  “I have to call an ambulance. For Fredo.” She groped for her purse. The strap had twisted around her neck but it hadn’t broken. She pulled the purse to her lap, undid the clasp and shoved her hand inside. “I need my phone.”

  “No, you don’t.” He got to his feet and held out his palm. “There’s nothing anyone can do for him now. Or for his killers.”

  In her heart, she knew he was right. She had been at enough accident and crime scenes to recognize death when she saw it. Fredo was gone. She squinted at the burning wreckage of the van. Unless they had escaped out the back doors, the people who had killed him were dead, too.

  Could she have saved the people in the van if she had gone back to help them? Probably not—everything had happened too fast. If she had tried, she would be dead now, either from electrocution, the explosion or from one of their bullets.

  She fought back a wave of nausea. God, this was a nightmare.

  “Come on, Miss Becker.” The man leaned over, caught her hand and tugged it out of her purse. “Time to leave before we have more company.”

  The slide of his skin against hers sent a strange tickle up her arm, distracting her. She had started to rise before she realized what he had said. She tried to yank her hand free. “How do you know my name?”

  He firmed his grasp and pulled her the rest of the way to her feet. “I’ll explain later. You need to get somewhere safe.”

  “What’s going on? Who are you?”

  “My name’s Anthony Caldwell.”

  She tried to kick her brain into gear. The name wasn’t familiar—she was sure she had never met him—so how did he know her?

  There was a sudden bang and a flare of light from the wreckage. The alley and everything in it was bathed in red. For the first time, she was able to see her rescuer’s face.

  Once again, Melina couldn’t seem to draw air into her lungs. The man’s expression was as unyielding as his grip on her fingers. His features were all harsh lines and sharp angles, too austere to be termed handsome. His hair was thick and raven-black, pulled ruthlessly back and caught by a band at the nape of his neck. A thin gold hoop pierced his left earlobe. He looked hard, uncompromising. Untouchable.

  Yet his gaze…oh, those green eyes snapped with power that shot right through her body, jolting her nerves to vivid awareness, sending her racing pulse into overdrive, reaching deep inside where she hid the pain….

  She trembled. She felt as if she were being drawn forward. It took all her strength to keep from swaying into him. What was happening here?

  The flare of light died. Oily smoke rolled over them. A dog barked somewhere in the distance above the crackle of the flames, jarring her back to reality.

  “You have no reason to fear me, Miss Becker,” he said. “We’re on the same side.”

  Melina yanked her hand free of his and stepped back. Her pulse still pounded. Traces of awareness trickled down her spine and hardened her nipples. Her nipples? She couldn’t be aroused, could she? Not now. What was wrong with her?

  Her reaction to this man had to be shock, that’s all. Or adrenaline. She had to get herself under control. She had to think logically, objectively. Set aside her emotions and put the facts together. That was what she did best. That was who she was.

  But who—and what—was he?

  Anthony Caldwell was a complete stranger. She definitely had never met him before, or she would have remembered. Any woman would have remembered a man who caused a reaction like that.

  She shoved her hand back into her purse. Her fingertips brushed the edge of her phone. This man had saved her life, but that was the only thing about him she knew for certain. The prudent thing to do now would be to call the police. “You said we were on the same side. What does that mean?”

  “We both want the same thing.”

  She turned the phone in her hand until her thumb was positioned over the keypad. “And what’s that?”

  “Titan.”

  This wasn’t how Anthony had wanted to play it. He did his best work in the shadows. He had never intended to meet Melina Becker face-to-face. It would have been simpler to follow her until he had the opportunity to take what he needed. But the man who called himself Titan had been a step ahead of him. Again.

  Because of that, yet another soul had died.

  Anthony’s knuckles whitened where he gripped the steering wheel. How many deaths were on the bastard’s hands now? How many more would there be before Anthony stopped him? Would any of them have happened if he had been stopped twenty-eight years ago, after the first one?

  He kept the Jeep steady despite the burst of rage that shook him. The anger was nothing new. He couldn’t remember a time without it.

  He spotted the oval green-on-white sign that was the trademark of the Grand Inn chain, and turned into the parking lot. Out of habit, he backed the Jeep into a spot so that he could get out quickly, then shut off the engine and looked at his passenger.

  She probably thought that clenching her hands in her lap that way would hide the tremor in her fingers. It must be important to her not to show weakness. Anthony could understand that. For a woman who had witnessed a murder and had narrowly missed becoming a victim herself, she was holding up well.

  He had expected no less. Melina was the lead crime reporter for the New York Daily Journal. She hadn’t gotten to the top of her field by being a coward. It had taken some nerve to fly halfway across the country and walk into a deserted alley in the dead of night to meet a source. Almost as much nerve as it had taken for her to get into this Jeep with him.

  Then again, he knew she would do anything to get the man she knew as Titan. They had that much in common.

  She turned her head to meet his gaze. Her auburn curls were backlit by the floodlight over the motel office, giving them the appearance of a halo. The curve of her cheek was softly feminine, gleaming like satin. Her lips were full and shaped in a classic bow, and he couldn’t help remembering how good she had felt in his arms.

  Had she sensed the sexual current that had flowed between them back there in the alley? Its strength had taken him by surprise. It had been all he could do to bring it back under control, but he’d had no choice. He couldn’t afford the distraction. This was the wrong time, the wrong place and definitely the wrong woman.

  Her gaze glittered, not with interest but with challenge. “I didn’t tell you I was staying here, Mr. Caldwell.”

  “You didn’t need to. The Daily Journal
always puts its people in the Grand Inn chain. They’re both owned by the same company.”

  “How do you know that?”

  “I looked it up on the Internet. Now you need to pack your things. I’ll answer your other questions once we get you out of here.” He opened his door and stepped to the ground. He had to grit his teeth against a wave of dizziness. It had taken more out of him than he’d thought to blow that transformer and snap the high tension wire.

  “Just a minute,” she said. “You said we would talk about Titan. That’s why I came with you. I’m not going any farther until—”

  He slammed the door on her protest and rounded the hood to the passenger side. He paused until the dizziness had passed, then flung open her door and held out his hand. “We don’t have much time, Miss Becker. I couldn’t be the only one who figured out you’re staying here. Someone in Titan’s network must have learned about your meeting with Fredo tonight. They don’t leave loose ends.”

  Her gaze darted past him as she scanned the parking lot. She drew her lower lip between her teeth. It was an unconscious gesture, another chink in the brave front she was trying so hard to project.

  Anthony felt a sudden urge to pull her into his arms and protect her the way he had before. Instead, he withdrew the hand he had offered and gripped the edge of the door. He had to maintain his focus. Hers wasn’t the only life at risk. “I’m staying at the Pecos Lodge. It’s built around a courtyard and is more out of the way than this place. I’ll book you a room there under another name.”

  “I could go to the police.”

  “Yes, you could, but you already chose not to,” he said, mentally replaying the cell phone call she had made from his Jeep. “Why didn’t you give your name when you called to tell them about Fredo’s murder?”

  She returned her gaze to his face. “Fredo said I shouldn’t trust anyone. That could mean Titan has an informant on the local force.”

  “Then why did you trust me?”

  “What makes you think I do?”

  “You came with me.”

  “I would go with the devil himself if it got me to Titan.”

  Anthony was familiar with the signs of obsession—he recognized them in himself. That Melina’s obsession stemmed from professional reasons rather than personal made no difference. He would use it to his advantage. “There’s another reason why you didn’t go to the police.”

  “Oh? And what’s that?”

  “You don’t want them to get between you and your story.” He glanced at his watch. “I’ll give you five minutes to pack. Then I’m leaving, with or without you.”

  She gathered her skirt to one side, swung her legs out of the Jeep and hopped to the ground. She led the way across the parking lot to her room in silence. As soon as they were inside and he had closed the door behind them, she turned to face him. “Look, I came this far with you because you know something about Titan. And I’m going along with your suggestion about checking out of this motel because I agree with you about that. It would be safer to change location on the off chance Titan learned I met Fredo. But let’s get one thing straight.”

  “What?”

  “I don’t take orders, Mr. Caldwell.” She put her fists on her hips and drew herself up. “And as much as I appreciate the way you saved my life, I won’t be bullied.”

  She was tall for a woman, and the suede boots that hugged her calves had good-size heels. Because of that, she didn’t need to tilt her head much to meet his gaze. It reminded him of how well their bodies had fit together when he’d been holding her—

  Concentrate, he told himself. “It was never my intention to bully you, Miss Becker. I’m merely stating the most logical course of action.”

  “No, you were trying to push me, and it won’t work. Yes, I want my story, but you must want something from me. It couldn’t have been coincidence that you happened to show up in that alley tonight. You must have been following me since I left this motel. What is it? What do you want?”

  She shouldn’t have put it that way, he thought. What would any man want when he was at a motel in the middle of the night with a woman who made his blood hum the way it did now? He brought his index finger to her cheek. He stopped short of touching her, yet he could feel her warmth reach out to him, drawing him closer, making him yearn for the time to explore where this could lead.

  But they didn’t have time, and he couldn’t afford this. The sooner he got what he came for, the safer everyone would be. He dropped his hand. “I already told you.”

  “Right. You said you want Titan.”

  “He has to be brought to justice.”

  “Absolutely. We agree on that much, but you didn’t answer my question. What do you want from me?”

  “I want your files.”

  Her eyes widened. She took a step back. “You can’t be serious.”

  “I need the information you’ve gathered. Your notes, your files, your list of contacts. You’re closer than the police are to learning where Titan is. Combined with what I know, that will lead me—”

  “Whoa. I should have seen it. You’re a reporter. That’s how you know so much about me and the Journal. What paper do you work for?”

  “I’m not a reporter. I don’t work for anyone but myself.”

  “Prove it.”

  “My questions should prove it. I’m not interested in what Titan has done, I only care about where he is now.”

  She studied him, as if trying to read the truth on his face. “Well, whatever you claim, you’ve got some nerve thinking I’d give anything away. I’m not telling you where Titan is. This is my story. I’ve been tracking him for months and I intend to be there when he’s arrested.”

  “You can’t plan to continue. You were almost killed tonight. They won’t give up.”

  She turned away. There was a pale green carry-on bag on a suitcase stand beside the door. She picked up the bag and took it to the desk in the corner. “I don’t give up, either,” she said. A laptop computer sat on the desk, surrounded by disorderly piles of handwritten notes. She unplugged the laptop and slipped it into a pocket on the outside of the bag, then gathered the papers and stuffed them in, as well. She zipped the pocket closed and faced him, her chin lifted and her shoulders squared. “And just in case you’re thinking of stealing this stuff, don’t bother.”

  That was exactly what he’d been thinking. It would have been the simplest solution, after all. That was why he’d been watching her room earlier tonight—he’d planned to enter when she was asleep and help himself to what he needed. But when he had seen her go out, he’d decided to follow her instead. “Miss Becker…Melina.”

  “Because it wouldn’t do you any good,” she continued. “I use the computer mostly for research and for sending finished copy to my editor. And I use my own brand of shorthand for my notes.” She tapped her temple. “Most of what I know is in here.”

  “That’s all the more reason for you to be concerned about your safety.”

  “I am concerned. That’s why I’m packing.” She placed the bag on the bed. Her gaze dropped to the bloodstains on her skirt. For a moment she wavered, clenching her hands the way she had in the Jeep.

  It was obvious to Anthony she was still struggling to control her emotions. He took a step forward, but she recovered quickly and turned to the dresser. It was just as well. He probably shouldn’t touch her again.

  Moving mechanically, she emptied the dresser drawers and the room’s small closet. With the skill of a habitual traveler, she rolled the garments smoothly—there weren’t many—and squeezed them into the middle compartment of the bag. She walked to the bathroom. “If you’re not doing a story, then what’s your connection to Titan?” she asked over her shoulder. “Did you work for him?”

  Anthony followed her. The bathroom was small and didn’t appear to have a window, so he stopped in the doorway. “I’ll answer that question if you tell me what you know.”

  “That isn’t the way it works.” She used her forea
rm to sweep the belongings off the counter beside the sink into another pocket of her bag. “You should be giving me information, not the other way around.”

  “And you shouldn’t be risking your life for a story.”

  “My work is my life, Mr. Caldwell,” she said. “And I’m going to break the news about Titan. What he did tonight to Fredo is only the latest in a string of crimes that’s more extensive than anyone believes.” She hitched the strap of the carry-on over her shoulder and brushed past him.

  He turned to keep her in sight. “You don’t have to convince me of that, Miss Becker. His thugs attacked and almost killed my friend.”

  She paused at the foot of the bed to look at him. Some of the antagonism eased from her expression. “Why?”

  “Because my friend wouldn’t tell them where to find my sisters and me.” He moved toward her and reached for her bag. “Here. I’ll carry that for you.”

  She curled her fingers around the strap. “No, thanks.”

  “You still don’t trust me?”

  “No, but if Titan hurt your friend and is threatening your family, I can understand why you would want to see him brought to justice.”

  Anthony didn’t respond. If she ever discovered what he really planned to do with the bastard, she would be even less inclined to trust him. He walked to the door and put his hand on the knob. “The five minutes are up. Time to go.”

  Melina gave the room a final survey, then moved to join him. She put her free hand on his arm. “Why would Titan be after your family?”

  “Where is Titan hiding?”

  She hesitated briefly, her lips thinning, then sighed and gave a crisp nod. “All right. If it turns out you’re telling the truth, we might be able to make a deal.”

  He looked at where her fingers rested against his jacket sleeve. Her nails were trimmed short and bare of polish, her grip firm, yet there was a delicate femininity in the shape of her hand. Her touch couldn’t penetrate the leather, but he sensed it just the same. “What kind of deal, Melina?”