She glared at him. “I have no doubt Nan will do everything possible to free Galena. For now, that is all I can do.”
“Thank you,” he forced himself to say. He turned and headed for the elevator.
“Declan?”
He looked over his shoulder at her.
“Do not consider taking matters into your own hands. It would only make things worse. The game is at a critical point.”
He met her ice-blue gaze with one of his own, then walked stiffly to the elevator and jabbed his thumb against the “Down” button.
The game is at a critical point.
As he stepped into the elevator and the doors slid shut, he couldn’t help feeling he was Aislin’s pawn. He stared at his reflection in the metallic doors, the certainty building inside him that he was being used.
Fine. Let Aislin think he was playing by her rules. But if this lawyer couldn’t get Galena out, Dec was ready to make a few moves of his own.
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
T
he cell door slid shut with a heavy clang, and Galena winced. She was dressed in the most expensive clothes sh
e’d
ever worn, a pink silk blouse and a black pencil skirt, both probably picked out by Cacy, brought to her so she could look the right part for her arraignment.
It hadn’t helped much.
Her limbs heavy, wobbling on her heels, Galena took a few steps toward the bed, which was nothing more than a thin mat laid on top of a metal panel bolted to the wall. It wouldn’t have mattered if it were the most comfortable mattress in the world, though. As long as she was here, she wouldn’t be able to sleep. She stared down at it until its hard edges blurred and softened.
Sh
e’d
just pled not guilty to over a dozen counts of murder, plus numerous other charges that Galena hadn’t even tried to remember. And true to Detective Botros’s word, the judge had immediately denied bail. Her lawyer, a tall, stern woman named Nan Drummond, had argued ferociously on her behalf, but the prosecutor had simply stated two facts that seemed to seal Galena’s fate: Galena was widely acknowledged as a genius. And she had just married into the most affluent family in Boston. Together, that equaled a flight risk too great to allow, especially in light of the severity of the crimes.
The judge also set her trial date at the arraignment—eight months in the future. With her heart in her throat, Galena had turned around to find Eli and Dec staring back at her. They were sitting together, both dressed up, looking more like businessmen than paramedics. She wondered if the horror in their eyes matched her own. She could read Eli like a book—she knew he didn’t believe for a moment that she was guilty. But Dec was unreadable; his glacier-blue eyes were riveted on her face as the guard pulled her to her feet. Did he think she coerced Jian into planting the bombs?
Why wouldn’t he? The evidence was damning. And there was more of it than Botros had initially showed her. Jian had apparently received a whole string of vile messages, threatening to unleash a virus, threatening to make his wife victim number one, threatening to find his family and hurt them, too. No wonder h
e’d
been so desperately angry when h
e’d
found her in the Veil. No wonder Botros seemed determined to see her put away for life.
Dec had stood up as the guards led her away.
I’m so sorry,
sh
e’d
wanted to say. Not that sh
e’d
had anything to do with the crimes. But Dec had been dragged into this, pressured by Cacy, guilted by Eli, and now he was stuck with her. H
e’d
done everything he could for her, too. She wondered if annulment was allowed for Ferrys. He deserved to be free from all this crap swirling around her.
A terrible, writhing frustration had built inside her as sh
e’d
stared at the ceiling last night, thinking over all that had happened. Sh
e’d
known this wasn’t fair to Dec. But what made it really, truly hurt? The longer she knew him, the more she wanted to please him, or maybe help him, even once. She wanted to make him smile, a real smile like in that picture he treasured. She felt a connection to him, and she wanted him to be glad h
e’d
taken a chance on her. But there was no way that was happening now.
She was going to be transferred to a women’s prison out in Framingham in the morning. She wondered if h
e’d
come visit her, even if just to say good-bye and good luck. Because now that she was probably going to spend the rest of her life behind bars, there was no way sh
e’d
finish her research, and therefore her life probably was no longer in danger. Dec could be free.
She bowed her head and wrapped her arms around herself. She wished she could simulate the feel of Dec’s arms around her, that she could fool herself into believing, even for a moment, that he was here. She could remember the taste of his mouth, his scent, the blue of his eyes, such a cool color, but when h
e’d
looked at her, all sh
e’d
felt was warm. “I miss you,” she whispered. “I don’t know how you became so essential so quickly, but you did.”
Somewhere down the hall, another cell clanged shut. It was such a lonely sound. Sh
e’d
never minded being alone. Not until now.
Galena skimmed her fingers across her cheekbones, unsurprised when they came away wet with tears. With her eyes closed, she tilted her head back.
And felt a trickle of cold air across her damp cheeks.
Her eyes popped open. Hovering above her head was a growing ring, and within it was the swirling gray world of the Veil. She gasped as it whooshed down over her head, lightning-fast, engulfing her with cold. Enfolded in a steely grip, she instinctively began to thrash and struggle.
“It’s me,” said Dec, catching her wrist midswing.
“Dec? What are you—?”
“Hang on. I need to focus. More Ferrys will be arriving to guard you at any minute.” He closed his eyes as he pressed his thumb to the raven on his Scope. Galena was paralyzed by her surprise, unable to believe he was there, right there. His arm was solid around her, like he had no plans to let her go. His Scope glowed as he brushed his thumb across it, and he shook it wide and peered into the intra-Veil portal. A smile pulled at the corners of his mouth. “Perfect.”
He lowered the Scope over the two of them, and Galena found herself in a gelatinous gray version of what looked like an old-fashioned log cabin. “Where is this?”
Dec released her. He lifted his Scope from the floor, compacted it, and then pulled it wide again, creating a window to the real world. “A place to hide.” He widened the ring of the Scope and allowed her to step through.
It really was a log cabin. As she walked through, she saw a wood-burning fireplace, a small kitchen, a desk, and a bed covered in an antique quilt. A doorway off the kitchen led to a bathroom, complete with a glass-walled shower. A peek out the window revealed a steep brown-gray mountainside. She turned to find Dec clipping his Scope to its setting. His eyes met hers. “We’re on Baffin Island.”
Part of the newly independent Arctic Circle colonies, incredibly remote. His Scope had carried them more than two thousand miles in the blink of an eye. Still, that was the least stunning thing about this. “Why did you bring me here?”
He regarded her steadily. “So no one will find us.”
“But Eli—”
“He knows. He could find you anyway—Kere can do that, as long as they have a connection to a person. More importantly, he loves you, and I didn’t want to keep him in the dark.”
She looked around the rustic cabin, which was full of deceptively modern touches and conveniences, like running water, judging by the faucets and the shower, as well as a stove and fridge. “This is yours?”
He nodded. “I’ve had it for several years, but I’ve only been here a few times. No one knows about it. I wanted a place that was just mine. In case I ever decided to cut ties with my family.” He gave her a sheepish smile. “The last time I was here, I arrived by helicopter. This was much faster.”
She touched his arm. He was wearing a jacket, she noticed, and boots. And a large backpack. “Dec, why are you doing this?”
He slid the backpack off his shoulders. “You’re being set up, and I wasn’t about to let you spend another hour in a cell.”
A million questions were tumbling around inside her head, but she settled on one clear, ringing thought. “You don’t think I did it.”
“I
know
you didn’t do it.”
She couldn’t control the warm laughter that bubbled from her throat. She took two steps forward and wrapped her arms around his waist, leaning her head against his shoulder. The relief inside her was overwhelming, as was her need to be close to him. “I’m a fugitive,” she whispered.
“I know. I may be, too, because Aislin will know I had something to do with it. She’s going to be furious.”
“Why would you risk that?”
He stroked her hair away from her forehead. “Because I couldn’t stand to think of you being scared and alone.”
And for that, h
e’d
risked
everything
. Galena tilted her head up to his, her lips brushing his jaw. “I’m not either of those things now. Because you’re with me.”
His gaze dropped to her mouth, and his scrutiny made her tongue dart out to nervously wet her lips. His pupils dilated. And then his mouth claimed hers with a barely restrained ferocity that she met with passion of her own. Her hands found his hair, anchoring him to her as his arms coiled around her. His stubble scraped at her chin, and she surged onto her tiptoes, desire rising inside her.
Galena nipped at his bottom lip, and Dec groaned. His tongue invaded her mouth, gentle but questing, tasting and teasing. Her chest was pressed to his, every part of her pulling tight. She felt the need, low in her belly, pure and strong and heady. For Dec. Only him. Her fingers closed over the collar of his jacket, tugging it away, and a moment later he let her push it off his arms, revealing a long-sleeved T-shirt pulling tight against the muscles of his chest.
Galena closed the distance between them quickly, eager to feel his mouth on hers again. But Dec caught her hips, holding her body away from him. “This,” he said, taking a few breaths as he leaned his forehead against hers, his eyes closed. “This is where we hit trouble last time.”
She glanced down to see his erection pressed against the front of his jeans. With the way she was feeling right now, she was willing to give it a try, but then she remembered how last time had made
him
feel.
Like a rapist,
h
e’d
said. A pang of frustration and sadness stabbed through her, pushing the truth from her mouth. “I know. But I need you to touch me. Please.”
His eyes opened. Slowly, his fingertips trailed up her arm, across her injured shoulder, his touch so light that it left only pleasure in its wake. He traced his way up the column of her neck, and Galena trembled, feeling her nipples turn pearl-hard. Dec’s gaze dropped to them like he could sense it. He kissed her again, unhurried and sensual. “Then show me what you want,” he murmured, tilting his head and brushing a soft kiss on the underside of her jaw.
He hadn’t said it like a challenge, but that was what it was. Galena swallowed hard.
You can do this. You have a right to it.
“I guess you can’t read my mind, then,” she whispered.
“I’m working on it.” He drew his tongue along her throat, and she arched back with the pleasure of it, making her wonder if he was a
very
quick study. But she wasn’t about to make him figure it out alone—she needed to own this. She reached up and took his hand, and placing her palm lightly over his, slowly began to move it. His skin was the most sensitive of instruments, completely attuned to her. She guided his fingers down her neck, and he followed with his mouth, tiny kisses tracing the path. Her breath caught in her throat as she kept moving his hand lower, as it crossed over the neckline of her silk blouse.
She watched the motion of their joined hands with wonder as they slid over a breast, but when his thumb stroked her taut nipple, her eyes closed. Slick warmth throbbed between her legs, which nearly buckled. Dec’s thumb kept moving in a slow circle as her body pulsed with need. His head was bowed, their cheeks touching, while he kindled the fire inside her. It was the most amazing feeling, frantic but isometric, fraught but completely still. Like she was pushing against some giant unseen force, every muscle in her body desperate to break through.
Full of curiosity and hope, Galena nudged Dec’s hand even lower, across her ribs, over her stomach, which quivered at its warmth. Her body was calling for what it needed, and so far, it had been easy to hold back the memories inside her head. But as his hand reached her waist, she realized they had a problem. Her pencil skirt was not going to make things easy. Dec was watching her as she looked up at him, unsure. His angular jaw was hard with tension, but the kiss he planted on her forehead was utterly gentle. “Do you trust me?” he whispered.
“Yes.” It came easily. And it was completely true.
“Tell me to stop if you need me to.” His hands skimmed down her sides and came to rest on her waist. “Can you do that? One word. ‘Stop.’ That’s all you need to say.”
She nodded, tilting her head up to touch her lips to his again. As his tongue slid along hers, his fingers slipped behind her and unzipped her skirt, tooth by tooth, inch by inch, so slowly that it didn’t make a noise. It was like he was waiting for her to call it off. But her desire for his touch had pulled her over that edge, and she wanted to feel his hands on her. She silently promised him she wouldn’t freak out, wouldn’t lose her grip.
You want this. You need this.
And she did. So much that when her skirt slid off her hips and landed on the floor around her feet, her shiver was mostly from the cool air.
Mostly. She couldn’t help the tiny snake of fear slithering in her belly, just below the scars. She still didn’t want him to see them, worried how he might react. Would her shirt hide them?
She broke their kiss and looked down at herself, the expensive skirt pooled around her high heels, her simple white panties, and the pink blouse that was just long enough to cover all the things she wished she could conceal forever.
“You okay?” Dec’s palm was on the small of her back, warm and heavy.
She nodded. “I-I jus
t . . .
I’m going to keep my shirt on, if that’s all right?”
He nudged her chin up. “Your call.” His kiss was unbearably sweet. Hypnotic and hot. Same as his hands, one of which had slipped over her ass and was gently kneading her flesh. His other hand was flattened on her belly, his fingertips caressing the silk of her blouse. He wouldn’t feel the scars through it, would he? She put her hand over his again and moved it until his fingertips reached the boundary of her panties. Her body clenched, begging for satisfaction. But as she pushed him lower, as his fingers sank beneath the white silky material and slid over her vulnerable skin, brushing the curls of hair below, a shudder ran through her.