His Force Of Nature
Lucas was dead, had been killed trying to save Garza, his Liber8 partisan, and Kiera, who was now on their side. Kiera, still grieving for the young tech virtuoso, was finding it extremely difficult coming to terms with his wrongful death. She wasn't letting herself off the hook. Her conscience was working her over, biting her viciously with long, sharp teeth. How Lucas had died flashed in her mind as she kept picturing him sitting before one of Alec's loaned computers. He had been such a great help, working hard along with Alec, trying to figure their common enemies' next moves. He'd been so good at piecing together the impossible, had committed himself with such verve, such determination, to rout the common foe. He'd been a bona fide boon to their cause, lending his unique talents to defeating Kellog and the time super soldiers. Fighting the good fight had become his mission as much as it was Kiera and her allies'.
She wasn't too sure about Garza being on the same side anymore. Jasmine blamed Kiera for Lucas' death and had run off as fast as she could after threatening to shoot Kiera through the head. It didn't sit well that the blond loose cannon possessed the extra CMR suit. She could run around to her heart's content being bulletproof and invisible, siding with whomever she chose at this stage. That didn't foster any nice warm fuzzy feelings. Maybe she'd gotten it into her head that she could take on Kellog and company on her own. Kiera hoped she wouldn't be that foolish. There was strength in numbers, always would be. Her emotions volatile and raw, Kiera thought back, remembering the relief she'd felt when Alec had ordered Lucas to get himself inside to bail Garza and her out. The boyish, volatile blonde, although not one to be easily overpowered, had been, and having been rendered unconscious had been absolutely no help to Kiera who'd had to battle alone.
Kiera sat stone still at her desk in the VPD office, rigidly piecing together how awful the all-out attack on them had been. In retrospect, her decision to spy on the time soldiers in the factory that housed the secret new enigma hadn't been her best idea. Marcellus had come very close to stabbing her to death, and when poor Lucas had come rushing in to save his fellow collaborators…
A brutal numbness pierced Kiera and she shut her eyes tightly, reliving the precise, horrifying moment when Brad had gunned Lucas down, savagely riddling his vulnerable body with ammo, killing him instantly.
The grief debilitating her was wearing her down, not easily shaken off. Lucas' death was senseless; he'd had no business being backup. Her zeal for knowledge of what was going on in the factory had blinded her and had infected Lucas. When they'd been in over their heads, needing Lucas to rush in to save their butts, he'd lost his. It really came as no surprise that Garza blamed Kiera. Her teaming up with Kiera and her team could conceivably never happen again. That's how Garza felt; Kiera wasn't holding how she felt against her. Cagily, Kiera peeked into Carlos' office where he sat behind his desk like a sentinel. Another wave of guilt hit her like a tsunami. Stinging, she took up a pen, then flipped it aside. She should have been straight with her partner. They still were on the same side, weren't they? He kept reminding her that they were. She stubbornly kept acting as if he couldn't be trusted. Why was she behaving as if he was against her? What made her think so? She had excluded him from the operation and it had gone so, so badly, chalking it up to its being a total fiasco. The failure had cost a brilliant, dedicated man his life, such a waste. They'd lost what they couldn't afford to lose. It was a sure bet that Lucas wouldn't get a decent burial. The time soldiers were indecent and most likely dispose of his body in some deplorable way.
Kiera thought she was doing what was best for Carlos. Her inclination to continue keeping him in the dark for his own safety goaded her. Although her betrayal of Carlos' trust, and as a result, his shaky faith in her, troubled Kiera, she felt she had no choice but to keep doing what she was doing. She told herself what she did would be for the best in the long run. When Carlos would confront her, and she saw the suspicion and mistrust well up in his penetrating eyes, she could not fault him; it saddened her. When he doubted her, but never came right out to accuse her of not being straight with him, Kiera fed him more evasion. Knee-deep in red herrings, was it any wonder then that, increasingly, Carlos treated her with suspicion?
Kiera stared into her stark white coffee cup, its contents as cold as her deep-seated feelings. The squad room was abuzz with hyperactivity, reports being filed, follow-ups being processed, apprehended criminals being documented and held in custody. Amid all this activity, Kiera felt as though she didn't belong. When she looked up from her desk, which wasn't as nearly cluttered as those of her fellow officers, she hung her head back down, wishing, just for a moment, that she had no hidden agenda.
Alec wasn't saying, in so many words, that Kiera's covert undertaking had cost Lucas his life. There had been the potential for so many things going wrong, and they certainly had. Lucas had become a good friend, rivaling Alec's intellect, minus any actual rivalry between them, except when it came to gaming. Both were the other's match. Sadly, his new friend and confidant had died. Whose fault was it? Alec had stopped playing the blame game long ago, after his stepfather's tragic death. As Alec looked back, he'd come to the conclusion that he should have come up with another way to recon the factory, not involving Lucas, who had so not been a fighting soldier by any stretch of one's imagination. Alec had convinced himself that his friend's horrific death might have been prevented. Having more manpower and firepower was never a bad thing, even if you were a crafty future girl with astounding high-tech tricks up your sleeve. The VPD should have been in on the op from the start, not after the time soldiers had gained the upper hand.
Alec had begun wondering the same thing. Why was Kiera keeping Carlos in the dark about practically everything lately? The need to know basis had turned into not giving him anything they were doing behind his back. Carlos was no dummy, but had somehow become persona non grata in her stormy eyes. Last time Alec checked, the strapping, good-looking cop was all for ridding this world, and the future one, of the self-serving Matthew Kellog and his lethal new allies too.
What had changed between the Protector and the Vancouver cop?
Alec wished he knew. Kiera wasn't sure she knew the answer to that herself. Infusing herself back into the ebb and flow of things going on around her, she took up the pen again, this time clicking it in rapid succession. The lump in her throat constricted and the heaviness in her heart just wouldn't go away. Her eyes strayed again to Carlos' imposing office, seeing him on the phone through the thin glass. By the stony look jutting from his face, he wasn't a happy man. About to get up and visit the Ladies' room, Kiera vacillated. Should she go have a quick word with Alec first before she heeded nature's call? As always, he was such a comfort, having reassured her that no matter what else happened, no matter how hard things could get, he'd always be squarely in her corner. She'd confided in Alec, regarding the counsel Travis had given her. Lucas had known the stakes and the risks bound up in this dangerous quest. Perhaps Travis' reminder had been his way of telling her she wasn't to blame, although reading Travis would always remain a challenge.
Thinking to leave the squad room quickly, Kiera stood up and away from her desk, starting on her way while ignoring a smattering of critical looks she customarily received from several on the VPD force who didn't trust her fully. She'd become an expert at ignoring any and all static they fed her. She advanced on the exit door, missing Carlos crowded into the frame of his office door. When he bellowed for her to come inside his office on the double, she flinched. One might have thought she'd participated in a massacre. Everyone in the squad room stiffened, expectant. When Carlos roared like that another colossal chewing out was in store for Kiera. Perhaps her latest dressing down was long overdue, judging from the boss' caustic facial expression. It was being whispered around the office that Kiera had Carlos wrapped around her manipulative fingers. It was about time he put his foot down. Enough was enough.
He closed the door behind her, wordlessly inviting her in. She helped herself to one of the two chairs at the front of his desk. Still indicating by hand motions only, once he had seated himself behind his desk, he motioned for Kiera to come around so she could join him. There was something she needed to see because unlike her, of late, he disliked being sneaky, only when he had no other choice. Cell-locked Travis popped up on Carlos' desktop. In a slow, deliberate manner, as though Kiera had just learned how to speak English, Fonnegra broke it to her. "He hasn't been too lonely, what with all your visits." Carlos slanted dismayed eyes at her. "You planning to break him out?"
Carlos had been spying on her. The shock came hard; a feather could have knocked her down. Visibly rocked, but holding it together, Kiera nodded as if she were on automatic pilot. Unable to tear her eyes away from the computer monitor, she observed Travis pace as she postured outside of his cell for a previous clandestine consultation. All the visits she'd made, without Carlos' knowledge, or so she had thought, ran through her mind. At length, she rushed awkwardly, "I can explain." Her tone firmer, she assured, "It's not what you think."
"What am I supposed to think?" Carlos fairly purred. Kiera, looking like the kid caught with a hand in the cookie jar, told him all he needed to know. He ended the replay and delayed the live monitoring. Though unintended, a smirk managed to show. "I can't help the feeling we're not on the same page anymore." He left her no way out, like Travis in his cage.
Before everything had gotten so out of control, perhaps they had been in better synch. The steady convergence of unknown factors had thrown much of what they'd faced prior out of whack, not the least of which was their relationship. "Despite what you may think, we're still on the same side."
"Are we?" he deadpanned, narrowing his eyes, striving to maintain his cool.
"Yes," Kiera flatly insisted.
"There's one way to prove that." He looked her squarely in her sometimes unreadable, sultry eyes, wishing that they could be anyplace else rather than here, in this difficult present, slaving away at unraveling ambiguities. The Bahamas were idyllic this time of year. How great would it be spending some down time, off with her on a serene beach awash in white sand and sparkling azure surf. Their tanned bodies laved by Bahamian waves, Kiera wearing big sunglasses and a spellbinding jet-black halter one-piece swimsuit. Just once, why couldn't they forget about all this dysfunction and disjunction? Why couldn't they be free to enjoy each other, unburdened by all the gunk? Was taking a hiatus from mishmash so wrong?
Prove herself? Kiera rankled, tired of her supposed complicity, as she folded her arms over her chest. Instead of wrangling, she deferred, "How should I prove myself?" To make the cauldron bubble a bit higher though, she needled, "Handcuff myself to you?" His eyes lit up and she smirked. "Just kidding. As it's been brought to my attention, unauthorized use of official equipment is strictly prohibited."
"Yeah, of course you are," he sarcastically grumbled, sounding glum too. "Of course it is. Policing doesn't come cheap." The affecting mental picture of her frolicking with him on the beach was still messing with his head, throwing his sense of propriety way off. "Maybe we should give it a try."
"Maybe you should trust me more," Kiera baited, with a teasing roll of her eyes, unable to readily dismiss Carlos' desirous facial expression. "I'm with you on everything, Carlos. Always have been, since day one. Doesn't my wanting you to come with me to the future prove my fidelity?"
"Maybe you should trust Brad less." All trace of amusement vanished from his face and his questioning her loyalty hung between them. "He's playing you. He killed Lucas, check."
"I told him I trust him."
"Is that still true?" He hadn't made that sound like an inquisition. "Did he try stopping Marcellus from killing you?"
Her supposed ally hadn't lifted a finger to prevent her demise. Intensity radiated from Kiera, and as she opened her mouth, it dawned on her that Carlos might be searching for something else if factoring in their personal feelings were any indication. "I'm not so sure. But what I am sure of will never change." She rose from the edge of his desk, as Carlos scratched his head, to make herself comfortable on his lap, carefully lacing her arms around his neck with a distinctly tender smile. "I trust you, Carlos. With my life, my future…with everything I have."
His curtain-free, shutter-less office was, for all intent and purposes, a public place. Nothing prevented the curious from spying extracurricular amorous activities on-site. The staff getting a huge eyeful of them snuggling under their noses wasn't the agenda for the day. The rumor mill was on point, spreading the dirt that Fonnegra was overstepping boundaries, fraternizing with the shapely maverick, though he played it close to the vest. If anyone ratted him out to their superiors, he wouldn't take it kindly. Kiera was in no hurry to vacate his lap. Under different circumstances, he would have had no objections, but they were on the clock and the setting was all wrong. Needing no further assurances from her, his mind better at ease, Carlos sighed and kissed her forehead. Contentment these days was hard to come by, but moments like these when she wasn't Kiera Cameron, time traveler, but Kiera Cameron, a real woman who needed to be believed in, and treasured, made some sense of well-being possible. Carlos helped her to her feet before anyone saw them. "I'll meet you at D'Angelo's, say about eight." Sometimes they'd have dinner at the old world bistro not far from Stanley Park.
"I'll be there. I haven't had good pasta for a while."
"Yeah, that makes two of us. And when was the last time we really talked?" As she turned to go, Carlos, sounding grateful, positive that it was the right thing to do, extended, "Kiera…Travis has you to thank for his release. Make the most of it."
"I will. Count on that." Respect and warmth permeated her voice, as devotion radiated from Kiera. "When he blinks, or sneezes, you'll know." She cast at him gratefully before she left, "Thank you, Carlos."
He grinned lopsidedly as he watched her, bound for making things, as she always did, happen.