Dark Protector Read online

  Dr. Neal flipped through the chart, his eyes quickly scanning her notes. When he’d read the last page, he handed her the clipboard. “I’d like him to return here every other day to repeat these tests until he reports back to the field.” He made a couple of notes and then signed off on the chart.

  Devlin looked up from his dinner glaring at both of them. “Like hell I will. Use someone else for a lab rat; not me.”

  Laurel’s boss was a short, balding cherub of a man, but that didn’t mean he was a pushover. “I’ll remind you, Mr. Bane, that your orders are to cooperate with my staff at all times. Now, we can do this one of two ways. You can promise to return when you’re told to or we can just keep you here. Which would you prefer?”

  The doctor got a string of obscenities in reply. He calmly nodded. “I thought you’d see it my way. Now if the two of you will excuse me, I believe I have kept Colonel Kincade waiting long enough.” He peered over the top of his glasses at Laurel. “He seemed upset when he called. Is there anything I should know about beforehand?”

  Laurel sensed Devlin’s interest in her answer even though he didn’t look in her direction. “He was here just before Mr. Bane woke up. He expressed his desire to see my patient released for immediate return to duty.”

  “And you said?”

  “I simply reminded him that it wasn’t his decision to declare Mr. Bane fit for duty; it was mine. I told Colonel Kincade that I will not sign any releases until I am satisfied that Mr. Bane has no lingering effects from his latest battle.”

  “And when do you expect to make that decision?”

  The stress of the past few days, when her patient had hovered between this world and the next, had taken a toll on her temper. She glared at both men. “I’d like to know why everyone is suddenly in such a hurry!”

  Dr. Neal frowned slightly. “I’m sorry, Laurel, but Ordnance will be demanding to know when they can expect Mr. Bane to report back.”

  “I won’t know for certain until I complete the follow-up examination in two days.” Three, if she could stretch it that far.

  “Thank you, that’s better. I will pass that information along.” He gave her a smile that was meant to be reassuring. “Mr. Bane, I hope I don’t have to see you again for quite some time.”

  “Me, too, Doc.” Devlin turned his attention back to his food.

  When the doors swished shut behind Dr. Neal, Laurel sat down and stared at her computer screen. Her eyes burned with near exhaustion.

  “How much sleep have you gotten since they brought me in?” he asked.

  She rolled her shoulders, trying to ease the stiffness, then shrugged without looking in his direction. “I’d tell you that it was none of your business, but that has never stopped you before. Dr. Neal relieved me for about four hours each day.” She leaned forward to rest her forehead on her arms and closed her eyes.

  As he absorbed the meaning behind her answer, Devlin attacked the last of his meal. Judging from the dark smudges under her eyes, Lauren was close to collapsing.

  “Dr. Young?”

  No answer.

  “Laurel?” He rarely allowed himself the privilege of using her first name.

  No answer.

  Finally, he picked her up in his arms and carried her to the cot she kept handy for when she had a critical patient. She stirred only long enough to find a comfortable spot on the pillow. He picked up the blanket that he’d dropped earlier and draped it over her, resisting the urge to press a kiss to her forehead. When he tucked a lock of her dark hair behind her ear, she smiled in her sleep. He felt it just as if she’d reached out to touch him.

  He backed away. Damn, he needed to get the hell away from her. Even if she’d die before admitting it, her interest in him obviously went beyond that of a doctor for her patient. As long as he only saw her when he was chained down to her table, he could deal with it. He had to. She was the only thing that kept him anchored in this world, a lifeline who fought long and hard to drag him back from the abyss that he lived and fought in. He had a horrible suspicion that anyone else would have set him adrift years ago.

  It was time to get out of there. He pressed the button that would summon the guards.

  “Yes, Dr. Young?” The disembodied voice was a familiar one.

  “No, it’s Devlin Bane. Sergeant Purefoy, is that you?”

  “Yes, sir, Mr. Bane. What do you need?”

  “Dr. Young is resting right now, but she’s signed my release.” At least, he hoped she had. He wasn’t about to wait around for her to wake up.

  “I’ll be right in.”

  No doubt armed to the teeth, with two or three others as backup. Devlin positioned himself in the middle of the room, doing his best to look harmless. It never worked; his reputation as one of the Paladins was too firmly entrenched for that.

  The doors slid open and Sergeant Purefoy entered, his men right behind him. They fanned out, their weapons powered up and ready, until the sergeant checked to make sure Laurel was indeed sleeping and safe.

  “Welcome back, sir.” The man’s smile seemed genuine. “I’ll just verify the signature and then we’ll see you safely out of the building.”

  “I’m in no hurry.” Like hell. In here, he felt trapped and exposed.

  The sergeant rifled through the clipboard, pausing every so often to read something. “Everything seems to be in order, sir.”

  “Good. Let’s go.”

  Devlin walked between the men and out the door, relieved to leave the lab and the delectable Laurel behind. The last thing he needed right now was to break in a new Handler. There was too much at stake for that: the hands on the sword that had brought him down hadn’t been those of an Other.

  He closed his eyes to remember every detail he could of those last few minutes. The smell of blood and fear-tainted sweat. Grunts and groans as weapons were swung and made contact. The flash of a sword as it slid all too easily into his side. The shock had driven him to his knees as the blood splashed out of his body and onto the ground.

  He never saw his attacker’s face, but he had seen the hands gripping the sword as it was shoved through him and then twisted. Those hands had definitely been human. His last thought as he’d bled out onto the ground was the knowledge that one of his own people had tried to kill him.

  Chapter 2

  He’s out.”

  The whispered message made his skin crawl.

  “I warned you that they were difficult to kill. That should come as no surprise.” Everyone with half a brain knew that Paladins died all the time. Getting them to stay that way was the hard part.

  “When will you try again?”

  The voice, dust dry and scratchy, grated on his nerves. He wished he had the balls to tell the bastard to go straight to hell, but that would be signing his own death warrant. Whoever wanted Devlin Bane permanently dead and buried was willing to pay big money to get the job done. It wouldn’t cost a fraction of that amount to have someone come after him.

  “I’m waiting.” And none too patiently.

  “Soon. Reports are coming in from all over the area that the pressure is building again. I’m guessing that Ordnance will be sending out the Paladins within the next few days. Bane will lead the charge. He always does.”

  “We can’t risk him near the barrier for much longer. He’s bound to notice something.”

  Like the botched attempt on his life wouldn’t already have put him on alert? He’d known this hit was stupid from the start, but all that money had drowned out the warnings his common sense had been shouting. “I know.”

  “The Paladins look to him for leadership. His death will distract the others, weakening their cause. We need them in chaos if we are to succeed.” The voice stopped to draw a raspy breath. “There will be a bonus in it for you if he doesn’t live to see the next shift in the plates.” There was an audible click as the mysterious caller disconnected the call.

  He slammed the phone down. “Fuck you, you bastard. If you wanted Bane dead so ba
dly, you should have gone after him yourself.”

  He cursed himself as a fool for letting himself get caught between two of the scariest people in this world or any other one. It was one thing to be promised a bonus for killing Bane; living long enough to collect it was quite another.

  Even if he succeeded, he’d spend the rest of his days looking over his shoulder. Paladins didn’t take kindly to losing one of their number at the best of times. If they found out they’d been betrayed, they would be relentless in their pursuit of revenge. But he had no choice now. If he destroyed Bane, the Paladins might kill him. If he failed, the voice would for sure.

  • • •

  “Look who’s back.”

  Another voice chimed in. “I’ve always figured him to be teacher’s pet. None of us get to take five days off when the mountain is letting off steam.”

  “Both of you go to hell.” Devlin said it because it was expected. If he’d failed to respond to his men’s taunts, they would’ve been worried about him. He disappeared into his office and sat down. Despite his earlier assurances to Laurel, his leg ached and his head was pounding. But he’d had worse and survived—a bit of grim humor that made him smile.

  D.J. followed him into his office and made himself comfortable on the corner of Dev’s desk. “So how is the lovely Dr. Young? Does she miss me?”

  “Not so you’d notice. She did hang up your posters, though, if that means anything to you.” Devlin turned his attention to his computer and began working his way through the e-mails that had piled up since his death earlier in the week. Even after eliminating all the tongue-in-cheek condolences from his Paladin friends, there was a depressing amount of information left to deal with.

  “Really? She actually put them up? I thought she’d come after me with a dull syringe.” D.J. looked disappointed.

  “I doubt she’ll leave them up long. She still prefers puppies and kittens.” Devlin scanned the first few entries, absorbing the most recent reports of increased pressure along the fault lines. “Any word from Ordnance when they want to send us out?”

  D.J. shook his head. “No, but Colonel Kincade has been in several times throwing his weight around.”

  “He was at the lab checking on me, too.”

  D.J. frowned. “Why would he show up there? He knows that it’s up to Dr. Neal and the others to notify him when we’re ready to return to duty.”

  “I wish I knew.” His mouth quirked up in a reluctant smile. “Dr. Young ran him off.”

  “Wish I could have been there to see that. Imagine, the big, bad colonel being chased by our favorite Handler.” D.J. laughed, then dropped his voice to a tense whisper. “Think he’ll retaliate for her standing up to him?”

  “If he can without getting caught. He’s a vindictive son of a bitch.”

  They all despised the colonel for his arrogance and casual disregard for the lives of those who served under his orders. He couldn’t hurt the Paladins as easily as he could others, but over time, even they paid a high price for his carelessness.

  “Did you warn her?”

  Devlin shook his head. “Not yet, but I have to go back the day after tomorrow. We’ll talk then.”

  And he’d give her an earful about a lot of things. He didn’t want her interfering again in Paladin business. Her responsibility began when a Paladin was carried into her lab dead, and ended when he walked out alive again. It had always been that way and with good reason. Eventually she would have to make a decision to permanently end a Paladin’s life. She had much too soft a heart already. If she made friends with her charges, it would destroy her when she had to put one of them down.

  The door opened and Lonzo Jones poked his head in. “D.J., we need you to come look at something.”

  D.J. pushed himself back up to his feet with a long-suffering sigh. “What did you idiots do to the system this time? I swear, I walk away and you start pushing buttons and twisting dials just to watch the pretty lights flash.”

  Devlin was just as glad to have his office to himself for a while. D.J. was one of his closest friends, which meant he could see past the badass personality Devlin had spent decades perfecting. If someone was willing to kill him, anyone close to him might be in danger, as well. D.J. and the others could take care of themselves, but there was the little problem of Dr. Laurel Young.

  He leaned back in his chair and closed his eyes, trying to relax for a few minutes. Under normal circumstances, he would have gone to his quarters and slept for a shift or two, but he couldn’t allow himself that luxury until he caught up on everything that had happened while he’d been gone.

  Five damn days lost, gone forever. No wonder Laurel had been muttering about how long it had taken him to come back. Normally it took two to three days to reclaim their lives. Four days wasn’t unheard of, depending on the severity and number of injuries that their bodies had to repair. But five? Either his body was losing its inborn ability to recover or he’d been in worse shape than usual.

  That thought brought a bitter smile to his lips. No one but a Paladin would understand the irony of knowing there were degrees of dead. He doubted his Handler would find the idea amusing, but then, she was the one who had to put them all back together again.

  The scientists and physicians who made up the Research Department of the Regents had spent decades studying the physiology of the Paladins, seeking to understand how it was possible for them to be revived over and over again, their lives lasting decades beyond normal life expectancy.

  Was one of the scientists behind the attack on him? He rolled the idea around in his mind, finally deciding that it didn’t make sense. There was no real gain for anyone in Research if he died for good.

  He rubbed his leg to ease the bone-deep ache. Eventually the pain and the scars would fade, but the memory of the ax shattering the bone and the blood that he’d lost would remain sharp and clear—until something worse took its place.

  No, there was little reason to covet a life that consisted of waiting to fight, fighting until you could bleed no more, then being revived to start the cycle all over again. Not that he felt sorry for himself. The Paladins had a clear purpose in life, which was more than most folks could claim. The traits that they carried hardwired into their genes made them the perfect warriors: strength, skill with weapons, and a total commitment to a worthy cause. Their loyalty, once given, was unshakable.

  Devlin stared at the array of swords and axes that hung on the wall opposite his desk. Razor sharp and maintained in perfect condition, they were the tools of his trade, used to drive back the darkness that seeped into his world every time fault lines slipped or a volcano belched fire and smoke and ash into the sky.

  Devlin crossed to the wall and, using both hands, lifted his favorite sword down off the wall. He should have known one of the others would have retrieved it from the battle. The edge of the blade was nicked in several places, which didn’t surprise him. The blackened scorch mark across the blade near the hilt did. Tomorrow he would carry it down to the armory to restore it to prime fighting condition. He had other swords, but none that fit his hand like this one did.

  The carpet didn’t quite muffle the sound of someone crossing his threshold. Before acknowledging his colleague’s presence, he returned the sword to its place on the wall. Cullen Finley leaned against the doorframe and waited with his usual quiet patience before speaking.

  “We almost didn’t find it.” He came the rest of the way into the room without waiting for a formal invitation. He knew that if Devlin didn’t want company, the door would have been closed and locked.

  Devlin returned to his seat behind his desk and motioned for his friend to sit down, as well. “I’m glad you did, Cullen. I would have missed it. Where was it?” He vaguely remembered dropping it on the ground, but he’d been too busy dying to care at that point.

  His friend looked toward the sword and frowned. “It was stuck in the barrier. We had the devil’s own time getting it out without causing further damage to it,
or the barrier itself.”

  Alarm bells sounded again in Devlin’s mind. “I was nowhere near the barrier when I went down. I’d gone down a side passage after a couple of strays.” He should have realized then that something was wrong. It was rare for the Others to travel in pairs, but those two had stayed together even when the path had split. It was as if they’d known exactly where they were going, leading him straight into a trap.

  Another piece of the puzzle that didn’t fit.

  “Is there anything else I should know about?”

  Cullen took his time in answering; the others had nicknamed him “the Professor” for his tendency to deliberate carefully before giving an answer. And other than Devlin himself, the man had accumulated the most knowledge about the Paladins and their lot in life.

  Cullen shook his head. “I can’t figure out how the sword came to be where it was, but I’d give anything to know. It almost looked as if someone was trying to do serious damage to the barrier with it.” He grinned, his smile wide and feral. “I bet whoever it was is nursing some serious burns on his hands. If the barrier was at full strength, he would have gotten quite a jolt running up the blade.”

  That thought cheered Devlin. “If you figure out any more about what happened, let me know.” He raised his arms over his head and stretched. The little burst of energy he’d gotten from returning to his office was wearing off. If he didn’t get home to his bed, he might just end up spending the night on his office floor.

  “Did D.J. get the system straightened out again?”

  None of them liked to call for assistance from the IT Department. They always acted as if the Paladins were a bunch of ignorant thugs who didn’t know the first thing about running a computer, even though the organization ran on software designed and maintained by D.J. and Cullen.

  Cullen smiled again. “It’s fine. Sometimes I think Lonzo and the others like to mess with the system just enough to drive D.J. crazy. It always works.”