Iris Johansen - Dark Summer

And he'd kill Marrok, and that would be the final triumph.

His cell phone rang, and he glanced at the ID. London. He stiffened and hope surged through him. He punched the button. "It's about time. What have you got for me?"

"GET UP." BRIDGET OPENED DEVON'Sbedroom door and stuck her head in. "We're going to get Wiley and bring him here."

"It's still dark." Devon drowsily lifted her head and looked at the digital clock on the bedside table-5:37. "Is there an emergency?"

"No, but we may be running out of time."

"I thought only Marrok knew where all the dogs were located?"

"I knew about Addie, and he gave me Wiley's location when he thought we might have to move them. He still hasn't told me where Nika's being cared for. Trusting bastard, isn't he?" She added, "There's toast and coffee on the kitchen table. I'll be back to get you in thirty minutes."

The door closed behind her.

Devon shook her head to clear it and sat up. Bridget had obviously been sincere about having Devon work with her. So get going and do your share. She swung her legs to the floor.

Thirty minutes.

She was waiting on the porch twenty minutes later, watching Bridget walk toward her from the helicopter.

"You're early," Bridget said when she reached her. "But Walt's ready to go."

"So am I," Marrok said from behind Devon.

Bridget stiffened as she and Devon turned to see him come out of the house.

"Though I wasn't invited," he said. "I wouldn't have even known about your excursion if Walt hadn't decided he had to check in with me."

"You said you wanted the dogs brought here," Bridget said. "I'm bringing Wiley to you. Don't you trust me?"

"Sometimes. Most of the time. But I have no right to trust anyone right now. You're behaving a little erratically lately."

"Bullshit."

He smiled. "Perhaps. But I still think that I'll be the one to take Devon to pick up Wiley. You stay here and hold down the fort with Lincoln. Maybe you can renew old ties."

"I told you that you shouldn't be with her. It's not safe."

"Did it occur to you that if something's going to happen to Devon, that I'd want to be there to stop it?"

"It occurred to me. I hope the best for her. But my job is to keep you safe."

"No. Where did you get that idea? Your job is to keep the dogs safe."

She gestured impatiently. "Same thing."

Devon was tired of listening to them wrangle. "I'm not a piece of meat you're fighting over. Back off. Both of you."

Marrok chuckled. "A very nice piece of meat." His gaze shifted back to Bridget. "You heard her, back off." He nudged Devon gently forward. "Let's go, Devon. Walt's waiting."

Devon hesitated. She didn't want to spend any extra time with Marrok. She had been avoiding it, and now she'd been tossed back into his company. Oh, what the hell. It wasn't as if she was afraid of being with him.

He said quietly, "You set the pace, Devon."

"That's right, I do." She ran down the steps and set out for the helicopter. "That goes without saying. So long, Bridget."

Bridget didn't answer. When Devon glanced back at her, she was frowning as she stared at both of them walking away from her.

"She doesn't like being thwarted," Marrok murmured. "I don't blame her. Neither do I."

"I could tell," she said dryly. "Just don't use me in your games."

"It never used to be a game. This is the first time Bridget and I have had a real conflict. She's behaving out of character."

"She's certainly being overprotective of you. You'd think I was some kind of Typhoid Mary."

"Did she scare you?"

"Of course not." She wasn't telling the truth. The determination that Bridget had shown in trying to keep her away from Marrok had been disturbing. It was more chilling than the first time Bridget had told her about the danger surrounding her. It was somehow more real to her since Bridget was feeling strong enough about the premonition to act on it. "I don't believe in fortune-tellers."

"I didn't either until I met Bridget. It's strange, all the time I spent with Paco, I fought against believing in his so-called magic. I played his game, but I took everything with a grain of salt. Yet Bridget was different. Maybe because it couldn't be more clear that she didn't want it to be true."

"That's not very comforting," she said dryly.

"Bridget didn't actually say you were going to die." His lips tightened. "And it's not going to happen. I intend to make sure it doesn't."

"I can take care of myself. I don't need you or Bridget." She shook her head. "For Pete's sake, drop it. I'm not going to fret about something this weird. Tell me about Wiley. Isn't that the dog we're going to pick up? He's the German shepherd, isn't he?"

"Yes." He opened the helicopter door for her. "You'll like Wiley. He's not easy. He'll be a challenge for you."

"What do you mean?"

"He's always been a little standoffish. He doesn't trust easily. He was mistreated as a pup before Paco got hold of him." He followed her into the aircraft. "That's why I wanted you to meet him on his home turf with his guardian as a buffer."

"Let's get out of here," Walt said as he started the engine. "Bridget is staring a hole in me. I'm going to hear about tattling to the boss."

"Children tattle," Marrok said. "And I would have been most unhappy if you'd kept quiet."

"That's what I figured." Walt lifted off and headed west. "It was only a case of deciding which one of you I wanted to piss off."

Devon went back to the previous subject. "Who is Wiley's guardian?"

"Sid Cadow," Marrok said. "He's an old rodeo rider. Tough as nails. Sid is almost as much a loner as Wiley. He's in his fifties and had almost all his bones broken at one time or another. He has no family and isn't sociable."

"A strange choice for you to make."

"I don't think so. They suit each other. Neither one of them is great on trust. But Sid loves that dog. It's probably the only thing he does love. I'd hate to be the man who tried to hurt Wiley."

"And you're taking Wiley away from him?"

"He can come back to the ranch with us. It's his decision."

"Where are we going?"

"He has a cabin in the hills in northern Arizona. But when I was a kid he had a place not too far from the reservation where I was born." He added, "As a matter of fact, he used to frequent the bar where I spent most of my time when I was in my teens. That's where I got to know him. He was as much a barroom brawler as I was and used to bust my chops regularly until I learned how he was doing it. Then we came to an understanding."

"So you're friends?"

He shook his head. "He and Wiley are friends. I just pay the bills and receive a certain toleration in return."

"Does he know how special Wiley is?"

"Yes, I told him after he'd had Wiley a year. By that time I knew he wouldn't give up Wiley. I'm not sure he believed me. He does believe that Wiley may be in danger. I think I got that through to him."

"And how is he going to take this move?"

"Not well. I called him and told him why I was coming. He told me to go to hell."

"Not promising."

"No. But we'll have to see, won't we?"

SID CADOW WAS STANDING AT THEdoor of his cabin, watching them come up the path. He was a huge man, with a shock of white hair and skin that looked like tanned leather. His expression was forbidding.

"I ain't going to let you take him," he said flatly. "No way."

"He's going, Sid. You can come with him, or you can stay here, but Wiley is going to the ranch," Marrok said. "It's time we put an end to this hiding."

"We're getting along just fine." He looked at the black-and-tan German shepherd who was streaking around in circles with Ned. "I take good care of him."

"I know you do."