Page 4 of Bryce

2

“It’s good to see you again.” I clasped arms with Gate, then Miles. “You look as though you’ve been doing well.”

“So do you.” Gate waved Martina to his side.

She hurried over to us, smiling wide.

“First thing’s first.” I shot her mate an apologetic look before delivering a chaste peck to her cheek. “From your mother.”

“How is she, really?” Martina searched my face, and if she wasn’t the spitting image of her mother, right down to the intensity in her blue eyes.

“She’s well.”

“You wouldn’t lie to me?” Hands on her hips now. The lady meant business.

“I would never dream of such a thing.” I smiled at Gate over the top of her head.

“I learned a long time ago the futility of lying to this one.” He looped an arm about her waist, while she merely rolled her eyes.

I carried a pack on my back, as did Jorge and Logan. They, too, were familiar with the clan, having met up with them after their rescue in St. Lucia. We’d spent a good deal of time together at the resort, before the massacre, at any rate, when Savannah’s would-be husband had come for her, along with the thugs in his employment.

She joined Miles, looking radiant. A far cry from the girl who’d thrown herself from a cliff to avoid marrying a man she knew would be the end of her. “It’s good to see all of you again!” she gushed. “I guess Mary’s been keeping you busy all this time?”

I could only chuckle, rubbing a hand over my two-day beard. “We’re coming straight from another mission, now that you mention it. I know we could all use a shower and your washing machine.”

“I believe we can accommodate you.” Miles waved me on. “Come along, guys. I’ll show you the rooms we prepared.”

“I wish we had service like this on every mission,” Logan joked. “I wouldn’t mind running around the world if I knew there was a hot shower waiting when I arrived.”

“Oh, you wanted a hot shower?” Savannah joked.

I managed a chuckle along with the others, but my heart was far from being in it.

My heart was too involved in other matters, such as demanding my eyes scan the area for any signs of… her.

“Where are you coming from, then?” Miles asked, glancing over his shoulder as we walked down a long passage dotted on both sides by doors. Plenty of doors. She might be behind any one of them.

When I didn’t reply, Logan jumped in for me. “Venezuela.” Nothing more than that, as the nature of our work made it necessary to exercise a degree of discretion.

“Quite a bit colder up here at the moment, I would imagine.”

“Yes,” I confirmed, hardly listening. “A refreshing change.” Were we truly discussing the weather? I supposed there was little more to say until we’d bathed and rested a bit. I could hardly think straight and chose to blame distraction on fatigue.

That was it. I was exhausted, sore down to my bones, and hadn’t eaten a decent meal in two weeks. I’d gone between two sets of clothing in that time, washing them in a sink at the end of the day. The shower we’d used had been little more than a thin trickle of water, when the water worked, which was never guaranteed.

That had to be why I could barely hold a thought in my head. Why I could only pick up bits and pieces of conversations. Why blood rushed in my ears, all but deafening me to the rest of what went on around me.

Why my lion refused to be still and silent in my mind.

It had nothing to do with her.

“This is you.”

I nearly crashed into Miles when he came to a sudden stop, at least, that was how it seemed to me. Out of the blue. Because I hadn’t been paying attention.

He didn’t notice, busy showing the other lions to their rooms a bit further down. I glanced over one shoulder, the very image of casual curiosity. While I found several pairs of curious eyes, none of them belonged to Isla.

Several members of the Scottish clan are currently in residence there, having accompanied members of the Blood Moon Coven. I could hear Mary’s succinct rundown of what we were to expect as clearly as I’d heard it when she delivered information on our latest mission.