right,” he said. “I’m calling it in. Eli needs to know about this. Someone way more qualified than me needs to come in and collect that with the proper equipment.”
She snorted. “Proper equipment for that ?”
They’d reached the top of the stairs, but Jericho didn’t slow down as he pulled her through the remainder of the facility.
When they reached the outside, Jericho kept walking, pulling her right to the truck, where he opened the passenger door and handed her in. He felt the oppression of the building slip from his shoulders in the open air, and watched as Dahlia rolled her own shoulders and breathed a sigh of relief.
“Sorry, I just had to get you out of there,” he mumbled. “I didn’t want you anywhere close to that thing. It was bad enough looking at you standing in the middle of that room.”
Dahlia closed her eyes, her expression betraying a sense of defeat, but Jericho didn’t pause to ponder it. He pulled his cellphone from his back pocket and dialed Eli’s number. “It’s me,” he said into the phone. “The weapon is a flaming sword,” he said, still in shocked disbelief.
Eli took over with a barrage of questions that Jericho answered without thought. They arranged for pick-up in full hazmat suits.
The conversation wound down and then there was dead silence on the phone for several seconds. Finally, Eli asked, “Okay, so is there anything else? Anything to keep you from bringing her back right away?”
Time stood still. Jericho’s eyes flew to Dahlia’s again, and — just his luck — she was staring straight at him.
Jericho paused, a feeling of heavy responsibility falling on him. His eyes flicked away from Dahlia. “No, I haven’t found out anything else. But I think I could. I’d like permission to pursue further intel.”
From his peripheral vision, he saw Dahlia snap to attention, but he couldn’t focus on what she was overhearing. The sickness that swept in with his lies nearly debilitated him.
Eli said nothing for several more seconds. “I can’t promise anything,” Eli said slowly.
Jericho would take what he could get. “Okay, thanks,” he said as he hung up.
He braced himself and then looked at Dahlia, silently begging her to say nothing with his eyes.
“You lied for me,” she said in a whisper.
Jericho nodded.
“Why?” she asked.
He looked at her for several seconds, and then he shifted his eyes to the ground, studying his boots. “I don’t know,” he said in a small voice.
He continued to look at the ground, studiously avoiding her gaze. But then, her hand moved through the space that divided them from each other. He watched as her hand splayed on his chest.
His head shot up, instant heat flaring through his body, the Impulse kicking to full life.
Dahlia licked her lips, fisted her hand in his shirt, and dragged him to her.
Chapter Ten
Before he could realize what was happening, her lips were crushed against his, and she was licking at their seam.
He opened his lips automatically, without thought, and was immediately rewarded when her tongue slipped inside his mouth and swept hungrily across the roof of his mouth.
He groaned at the sensation. All of the stress of the last few hours released him from its grip, and his arms flew up and surrounded her. He jerked her to him with no finesse, sliding her across the truck’s seat, needing to feel her flush against him, needing to forget what he’d just done. One hand splayed in the small of her back, the other hand rose up through the cool waves of her hair to grab a handful and wrap it around his wrist.
He tugged gently, pulling her head further back, and he knew her neck would be arched beautifully. He pulled back from the kiss to glance at it, and then he lowered his head again to nibble down her neck from ear to collarbone.
She squirmed against him and tried to lean back on the truck bench and pull him back with her, and for some reason, this movement was enough to bring him back to
She snorted. “Proper equipment for that ?”
They’d reached the top of the stairs, but Jericho didn’t slow down as he pulled her through the remainder of the facility.
When they reached the outside, Jericho kept walking, pulling her right to the truck, where he opened the passenger door and handed her in. He felt the oppression of the building slip from his shoulders in the open air, and watched as Dahlia rolled her own shoulders and breathed a sigh of relief.
“Sorry, I just had to get you out of there,” he mumbled. “I didn’t want you anywhere close to that thing. It was bad enough looking at you standing in the middle of that room.”
Dahlia closed her eyes, her expression betraying a sense of defeat, but Jericho didn’t pause to ponder it. He pulled his cellphone from his back pocket and dialed Eli’s number. “It’s me,” he said into the phone. “The weapon is a flaming sword,” he said, still in shocked disbelief.
Eli took over with a barrage of questions that Jericho answered without thought. They arranged for pick-up in full hazmat suits.
The conversation wound down and then there was dead silence on the phone for several seconds. Finally, Eli asked, “Okay, so is there anything else? Anything to keep you from bringing her back right away?”
Time stood still. Jericho’s eyes flew to Dahlia’s again, and — just his luck — she was staring straight at him.
Jericho paused, a feeling of heavy responsibility falling on him. His eyes flicked away from Dahlia. “No, I haven’t found out anything else. But I think I could. I’d like permission to pursue further intel.”
From his peripheral vision, he saw Dahlia snap to attention, but he couldn’t focus on what she was overhearing. The sickness that swept in with his lies nearly debilitated him.
Eli said nothing for several more seconds. “I can’t promise anything,” Eli said slowly.
Jericho would take what he could get. “Okay, thanks,” he said as he hung up.
He braced himself and then looked at Dahlia, silently begging her to say nothing with his eyes.
“You lied for me,” she said in a whisper.
Jericho nodded.
“Why?” she asked.
He looked at her for several seconds, and then he shifted his eyes to the ground, studying his boots. “I don’t know,” he said in a small voice.
He continued to look at the ground, studiously avoiding her gaze. But then, her hand moved through the space that divided them from each other. He watched as her hand splayed on his chest.
His head shot up, instant heat flaring through his body, the Impulse kicking to full life.
Dahlia licked her lips, fisted her hand in his shirt, and dragged him to her.
Chapter Ten
Before he could realize what was happening, her lips were crushed against his, and she was licking at their seam.
He opened his lips automatically, without thought, and was immediately rewarded when her tongue slipped inside his mouth and swept hungrily across the roof of his mouth.
He groaned at the sensation. All of the stress of the last few hours released him from its grip, and his arms flew up and surrounded her. He jerked her to him with no finesse, sliding her across the truck’s seat, needing to feel her flush against him, needing to forget what he’d just done. One hand splayed in the small of her back, the other hand rose up through the cool waves of her hair to grab a handful and wrap it around his wrist.
He tugged gently, pulling her head further back, and he knew her neck would be arched beautifully. He pulled back from the kiss to glance at it, and then he lowered his head again to nibble down her neck from ear to collarbone.
She squirmed against him and tried to lean back on the truck bench and pull him back with her, and for some reason, this movement was enough to bring him back to
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