FBI Psychics: The Missing Part 18

She didn't know what to say. Hel , what was there to say?

"Can you tell me about it?"

Woodenly, she said, "There's not much to tel . The tube ruptured. The baby never had a chance."

"And you? How were you?"

Alone. But she kept that to herself. "I'm still around, aren't I?" There was really no point in explaining that she'd nearly died. What good would that do either of them?

He cupped her chin and forced her to look at him. "You're not going to talk about it yet, are you?"

Taige averted her eyes. "There really isn't that much to talk about, Cullen."

"Yeah, there is." He shifted, moving around so that he stood behind her, keeping one arm wrapped around her waist. The other hand he pressed to her belly. "I'm no doctor, but I remember anatomy well enough. There are two tubes; only one is gone."

Reaching down, she caught his hand. "Yes. One is gone." She guided his hand lower and laid it down flat against the scar low on her belly. That bullet had ripped through her abdomen, damaging the other ovary beyond repair. "On the other side, there's no ovary, Cullen. A bullet saw to that. So it looks like you lucked out all around. You don't need to worry about me getting knocked up, even if we spend the next ten years f.u.c.king like rabbits."

Then she jerked away from him and stormed down the hallway.

LOOKS like you lucked out all around.

Cullen sat on the beach, feeling like he'd been wrung dry.

Going from an emotional high to an all-time low in the matter of minutes was h.e.l.l. He thought that maybe he could have done the Iron Man triathlon and still not feel this worked over.

Taige had been pregnant. Nineteen years old, alone, and pregnant. He didn't know jack s.h.i.t about tubal pregnancies, but something about the way her face had looked when she talked about it made his gut knot inside. Then there were the tears that had rolled down her cheeks and the way she pressed a hand protectively to her belly as she murmured, The baby never had a chance. She'd wanted the baby. He knew that as well as he knew his own name.

Fury gnawed nasty, ugly holes inside him. That faded, puckered scar low on her belly: he'd thought of the pain she must have gone through, and he thought of how easily she could have died, but he hadn't known that whoever had shot her had robbed her. Robbed her of the chance to get pregnant.

And how much of this was his fault?

If he hadn't thrown her out of his life that last day, he could have been there with her when she lost the baby. He wasn't so impressed with himself to think that maybe if he'd been with her as he should have been, it never would have happened. But she'd been alone, and pregnant, because he was a selfish b.a.s.t.a.r.d.

It had been his words that pushed her into the career she chose. He didn't give a d.a.m.n what she said to the contrary, and he knew she had saved lives, done a lot of good for others. Because of what he'd said and done, because of how he'd acted, Taige had gone into a career that broke her heart regularly, that was dangerous, and that had taken away her chance at having a child.

He thought of Jillian, how she regularly broke his heart and how she regularly made him so d.a.m.n proud, how he loved her so much it felt like his heart would explode from it. Then he thought of Taige, how protective she was, how fierce and how she loved with everything she had inside her. She would have been the kind of mother every child should have, and that had been stolen from her.

The sand m.u.f.fled her footsteps, and Cullen didn't realize she was standing behind him until she said, "Are you going to sit out here all afternoon and all night?"

Slanting a look at her over his shoulder, he shrugged. "Occurred to me."

"Going to be hard to help me if you plan on spending the time counting the waves."

"I'm sorry, Taige."

Her eyes met his for a split second, and then she looked away. "For what? Counting waves?"

"You know what."

Blowing out a ragged breath, Taige moved closer and sank gracefully to the ground.

She kept a good two feet between them. "Don't, Cullen. Okay? Just don't. All of it is over and done with, and for the most part, I'm okay with it. I've got a lot of bad s.h.i.t inside of me, and maybe this is G.o.d's way of making sure I don't pa.s.s it on."

"That's a load of c.r.a.p," Cullen said in a flat voice. "You don't have a d.a.m.n thing bad inside of you."

"We'll just have to disagree on that one." She shrugged. "It's something I've mostly dealt with, so just let it go."

He could tel by the way she held herself that she wanted some distance, might have even needed it. But he needed to touch her. Rolling to his knees, Cul en crawled across the sand until he could kneel in front of her. Her hands felt cold under his. "I don't know that I can let this go, Taige." Cullen still couldn't believe she'd been pregnant and that now she'd never be able to conceive a baby again. It just didn't seem fair.

"Try," she said grimly. Her eyes were stark and cool, the dull, leaden gray of a winter sky. Everything about her had gone cold and distant.

Apprehension gnawed at him, but then she twined her fingers with his. "Things are moving a little too fast for me right now, Cullen," she murmured. Her gaze lowered, and her lashes shielded her eyes from him. "I know I threw a lot at you, but none of it is easy for me to talk about. I just can't do it right now. I don't even know which way is up. I need some time to level out."

A sigh escaped him. Reaching up, he cupped her chin and lifted it so he could see her eyes. "This isn't done, Taige." Cullen stroked her lower lip with his thumb. He bent his head and pressed a kiss to the corner of her mouth. "We got enough going on right now, that's for certain. But this isn't done. And while you're leveling out, there's something you need to keep in mind. I meant every word I said before, when I told you that I still love you and that I want you back in my life."

Cullen slanted his mouth over hers, cupping his hand over the back of her skul and holding her still. Under his mouth, she was soft and sweet. She sighed into his mouth, and when he slid a hand up her side and cupped her breast, she arched into him with a moan.

Urging her backward, he covered her body with his. Her hands slid under his shirt, her fingers cool and agile, stroking over the sensitive skin of his lower back and then dipping under the waistband of his jeans. "You certain you want to do this out here?" she murmured against his lips. "We're going to get sand everywhere."

"Is that your subtle way of tel ing me no?" Unconcerned about her answer, or the sand, he kissed his way down her throat, pausing at her pulse and licking the soft, satiny skin.

She laughed. It was a low, husky sound, and it warmed him inside. "If I was going to tel you no, I wouldn't mess with being subtle."

"So is that a yes?"

With gentle but insistent hands, she pushed against his shoulders. Reluctant, he pushed up onto his hands and knees and then slowly settled back on his haunches, staring at her.

A small smile danced on her lips. Her hands went to the hem of her shirt, and Cullen felt his mouth go dry as she stripped her shirt away. Under it, she wore another plain bra of white cotton. The sight of that simple white against the golden glow of her skin was d.a.m.ned erotic. Her blue jeans shorts rode low on her hips. The bra and the shorts did little to conceal the scars on her body: the puckered, faded scar from where she'd been shot; a thin, shallow scar on the upper curve of her left breast. Her body was long, lean, and strong, thinner than it should be, and the sight of her was enough to lay him low. His s.e.xy warrior. No, she wasn't just a warrior, she was a warrior queen, and he felt like he should be on his hands and knees in worship.

Hmmmm . . . not a bad idea. As she stood up in front of him, he reached for the waistband of her shorts, but before he could strip them away, she stiffened. From head to toe, her body tensed, and she pulled away.

"Taige-"

Shaking her head, she flung up a hand and rasped, "Stay back. Oh, G.o.d . . ." It was a harsh, tormented moan. Slowly, she sank to her knees and doubled over, her arms wrapped around her middle like she'd been punched right in the gut.

Frustrated, helpless, Cullen stood by watching until she fell over in the sand, and then he couldn't hold stil anymore. A weak whimper escaped her throat as he scooped her into his arms and sat there, holding her in his lap. Stroking a hand up and down her back, he murmured to her and brooded. Prayed. He kissed her temple and rocked her back and forth, and all the while, she curled into him. She didn't speak. Occasionally, there was a soft little mewling sound, but that was it.

Cullen didn't know how much time pa.s.sed. He lost count of the waves that crashed into the sand. The tide moved out, and water that had been lapping just inches away from his feet was a good five or six feet away. The clear, flawless blue sky slowly started to deepen and darken, the moon making its ascent while the sun still burned, sinking closer and closer to the horizon.

The setting sun had started to paint the sky with a palette of orange, gold, and pink when Taige finally moved. Deep in her throat, she made a harsh, guttural moan, and her spine bowed, her neck arching back. For the first time, he saw her face.

An icy chil ran through him when he saw her eyes. They were black. The pupil was so huge, it had all but eclipsed the iris, and he couldn't see the soft gray at all. In a matter of heartbeats, her icy skin started to warm, and by the time the sun had completely set, she was burning hot in his arms. Her skin was dry, although he had broken out into a sweat from the heat she was throwing off.

Terrified no longer described what he felt. There was only one time in his life he'd felt like this, and that had been in the hours after he'd learned that Jillian had been abducted.

His fingers trembled minutely as he went to push her hair back. Fisting his hand in her soft thick curls, he said, "Taige. Come on, baby. Talk to me."

"It's him." Her lashes drooped low over her eyes. Her voice was dreamy and oddly disconnected. "He's there. Burning . . ."

Cullen didn't waste his breath asking who. He knew in his gut. The pad of his thumb stroked across her cheekbone. "Look at me, Taige."

It was as though she hadn't heard him. Lids hanging low over her eyes, she whispered, "There's gas. I smell it. d.a.m.n, it's hot."

A fine sweat broke out over her skin. For a second, the air stopped smelling of the heat, the sand, and the Gulf, and the sickly sweet stink of gasoline fil ed the air. A hot breeze kicked up over the water, and the smell faded. Or maybe he hadn't really smelled the gas to begin with. At that point, Cullen didn't know. She shivered, and Cullen rubbed a hand up and down her back, trying to warm her. Cuddling into him, Taige rubbed her cheek against his chest.

He kept talking to her, but nothing he said got through. Finally, he just wrapped his arms around her and held her as close as he could. One hand rubbed up and down her naked back. Her b.r.e.a.s.t.s were bare against his chest, but Cullen could honestly say he didn't have one lascivious thought. Amazing how terror could wipe out an all-consuming l.u.s.t so easily.

It ended as suddenly as it came on. One moment, Taige was cuddling into him and holding on like he was some teddy bear warding off the boogeyman, and in the next, she was stiff in his arms and sucking in air like a drowning woman. Her body shuddered, and then she pushed against his arms. "You're going to crush me, Cul en."

He pressed a kiss to her forehead. "d.a.m.n it, you keep scaring me like that, I'm going to die of a heart attack before I turn forty." But he did let go, slowly, reluctantly. She tried to stand up, but her legs wobbled, and Cul en had a feeling she wouldn't make it ten feet without hitting the sand. Pushing to his feet, he gathered up her clothes. After tucking them into her arms, he lifted her. "You need to lie down," he said softly.

But Taige had other plans. "No. We need to leave. He's at the cabin, or he's going there." Her mouth twisted in a grimace. "At least what's left of the cabin-no telling how much of it Jones has torn down to get to the bodies."

The need for vengeance warred with the need to take care of Taige. Her hands shoved against his chest, but it was pitiful how weak she was. Under normal circ.u.mstances, if Taige wanted to be put down, he'd have a fight on his hands, and chances were, he could easily lose that fight. At the moment, she'd have a hard time holding her own against a kitten.

Physically.

The look in her eyes was one of sheer stubbornness, and Cullen knew that if he let her, she'd take off on her own and keep going until she collapsed. She was just that determined. If he wasn't so d.a.m.ned worried she'd end up pa.s.sing out on him and scaring him to death, he'd go along with her just fine.

But . . .

Her eyes, once more that soft, misty gray, narrowed, and her pretty mouth flattened out into a tight, thin line. "d.a.m.n it, Cullen. You're wasting time. We don't have much as it is."

Fisting a hand in his shirt, she gave him a fierce stare and said, "I am fine. Okay?"

"You're not fine," Cullen argued. The last rays of sunlight were fading fast, but he could stil see how pale and wan she'd become. "You're almost as pale as I am. h.e.l.l, you probably can't even walk to the house on your own two feet."

Her lids flickered. "I don't need to walk to the cabin. And it's a good three hours north.

By the time we get there, I'll be steady."

"And if you're not?"

"If we don't go now, it's not going to matter. Because he isn't going to be there."

Cullen gave in. He guessed there hadn't ever been doubt on that. Between the need for blood and the innate desire to do whatever Taige asked of him, Cullen didn't even have a fighting chance. They were out of the house before another twenty minutes had pa.s.sed.

She'd insisted on changing, and Cullen watched over her protectively, ready to catch her if she looked the least bit unsteady.

Never happened. Although he'd carried her to the house, by the time they walked out the front door, her color had improved, and she moved with that easy, confident grace that he remembered from years before.

Steady, she'd said.

Hel . She was going to be steadier than he was, that was for d.a.m.n certain.

TEN.

Too late.

They were still a good twenty miles away when the skin on Taige's spine went tight. Too late. He was gone. She couldn't explain how she knew, but by the time they got to the cabin, he would be long gone.

And there would probably be no trace left behind. Again. Somehow this guy managed to wipe the slate clean, psychically speaking, and she'd get nothing. None of those intangible little vibes that she couldn't see or feel, but which existed nonetheless.

Useless- She blocked that out. If she started swimming in guilt or self-doubt, she'd be of no use to anybody. So, instead of dwel ing on that old bulls.h.i.t, she closed her eyes and reached out. It didn't come so easily this time.

Sometimes the gray came on her like a summer storm, quick, violent, and all-encompa.s.sing. Other times, it was like a heat mirage, wavering and unclear. Right now, it was like trying to push her way through quicksand. It came, but there was a reluctance to it, and the vision that had been so clear just a few hours ago was now murky.

There was nothing definitive this time. Reaching out, she tried to connect with her prey, and there was, for just a second, a brief connection. Tenuous at best and too weak to sustain contact. Even as she tried to strengthen the connection, it faltered and faded.

It left her with the impression of a deep rage and a conviction that could only come from the mind of the truly insane. Her mind tried to hold on to that little bit of knowledge. There was something important there-something very important. But she couldn't focus.

Couldn't see. Smoke obscured her vision, and heat stung her skin. She tried to take a breath, and it choked her. The underlying stink of gasoline filled her nostrils, and she gagged.

"Taige."

The sound of Cul en's voice was the sweetest d.a.m.n thing, and she turned toward it, tried to reach out. Reached out-and he touched her. She felt his hand land on her shoulder, and he shook her. Feeling a little bewildered, Taige opened her eyes and rubbed them. Still the smoke burned.

d.a.m.n, am I still under? she thought. She breathed in and tasted the acrid bite of smoke in her throat.

But it wasn't the remnants of a vision. Smoke hung in the air, and the direction of the wind carried it to them as Cullen pulled to the side of the road. Off to the left was the pitted, sorry excuse for a road that led to the cabin. The road no longer looked abandoned, and Taige couldn't even begin to guess how many agents had been out here, how many forensics teams had gone over every inch of land.

Right now, though, it wasn't the FBI trekking over the rough road. It was a line of fire trucks, ambulances, and several black and tan county sheriff cruisers. Up on the mountain, just barely visible above the tree line, was a flickering orange glow.

Just as she'd seen in her vision, the b.a.s.t.a.r.d had set the cabin on fire.

He'd been here not long ago.

Part of her wanted to hope that maybe he'd been caught.

But Taige was a realist. He wasn't here.

Her Bureau ID got her and Cul en past the line of officials. There weren't a lot of gawkers, not this far out of the way. A few questions revealed that a father and son had been hunting and seen the flames. Dry as the summer had been, if they hadn't called it in when they did, the fire would have presented a serious hazard. Even now, it looked like the firefighters were going to have one h.e.l.l of battle keeping the fire from spreading.

Sirens split the air again. As one, Taige and Cullen turned to watch another truck come screeching up. "We need to go," she said softly. "We're just in the way here."

"But . . ."

Taige glanced at Cullen and shook her head. "There's nothing here for me, Cullen. If there was, I'd know."

Somehow, her man had slid right past her, and just as before, he'd left behind nothing of himself.