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  “Damn it, Doc, we’ve been in here too long. The guards are coming.”

  Finally she realized what he was talking about. Someone—no, several someones—were moving around in the lab outside the door. She fought down panic. If they caught her with her blouse unbuttoned and her pants unzipped, her reputation would be ruined and Devlin would have a new Handler by nightfall. That’s when she noticed the flashing light on the console.

  This was the one room in the lab that had no security cameras—thank goodness!—or microphones, because their electronic impulses interfered with the sensitive scanning equipment. To compensate, the Handler was expected to periodically send a coded message to the guards that all was well. The code was changed daily to prevent a rogue Paladin from discovering it and making use of it.

  Missing her last check-in had triggered the alarm.

  And unless she managed to defuse the situation, Sergeant Purefoy and his men were going to come charging through that door, ready to put down a rogue Paladin. She hit the button that was blinking to reset the alarm and quickly entered the code. It wouldn’t call off the guards, because their assumption could very well be that Devlin now had the code and was using it, but at least they wouldn’t be quite so quick to pull the trigger.

  She managed to refasten her bra on the second attempt and swiftly rebuttoned her blouse. Patting her hair, she hoped she didn’t look as rumpled as she felt. At least her lab coat would cover up some of the damage. Devlin had settled himself back on the bed after reattaching most of the electrodes. Just that quickly, his eyes were closed as if he’d drifted off to sleep counting the seconds until the test was over.

  • • •

  Laurel’s hands were still shaking but her voice sounded calm when she spoke over the intercom. “Sergeant Purefoy, this is Dr. Young speaking. Code Alpha Zulu Beta. Repeat, Alpha Zulu Beta. This is not an emergency.”

  Dr. Neal answered, adding to her embarrassment. “Dr. Young, what is going on in there?” At least he sounded more exasperated than angry.

  “Nothing, sir.” At least not anymore. “If I may open the door, I can explain.”

  She hoped.

  Devlin reached up to squeeze her hand before she reached for the doorknob. “Give ’em hell.”

  Just that small reassurance was enough to stiffen her spine. When the door swung open, she stepped through to face a room full of armed men and her boss without blinking.

  A few minutes later, the room had been cleared of everyone but herself and Dr. Neal. Devlin still slept on, the muted sound of snoring giving wordless support to her shaky explanation.

  “I am sorry, sir. I don’t know how I managed to miss the check-in. I must have dozed off.” She shook her head and shrugged, hoping her boss would attribute her reluctance to look him straight in the eye to embarrassment.

  He looked past her toward where Devlin lay sprawled on the bed. “Then I would suggest you take off early today and get some rest. Falling asleep on the job, especially with a Paladin of Mr. Bane’s advanced age, is foolish to say the least. Luckily for all concerned, no harm was done.”

  “Yes, sir. I’ll leave as soon as Mr. Bane wakes up. That will give me time to finish my report.”

  “Are you sure you wouldn’t like me to do that for you?”

  She couldn’t risk letting him discover the haphazard way that the electrodes were stuck to Devlin; there’d be no explaining that away.

  “No, thank you. But if Mr. Bane hasn’t awakened when I’m ready to leave, I’ll call you.”

  Dr. Neal reluctantly left the room. Since there was every chance he might drop back in unexpectedly to check on her, she forced herself to wait a few minutes before approaching Devlin. The cluster of electrodes dangled down to the floor and her patient was propped up on the pillow, his expression unreadable and closed.

  “You can leave whenever you want. Sergeant Purefoy will escort you out.” She dropped his clothes on the bed and turned away to reset the machine.

  Devlin’s gaze weighed heavily on her back as he dressed. What was he thinking? If he had regrets, were they because they hadn’t finished what they’d started, or because it happened at all?

  The sheets rustled as Devlin got up and then she felt the warmth of his body close behind her.

  “Do you want a new Handler?” She held her breath, praying he wouldn’t say yes.

  “No, I don’t. But this can’t happen again.”

  That was true. Still, her eyes stung from the threat of tears as she nodded in agreement.

  “Not here, anyway.” He leaned so close that his warm breath tickled her skin. “When you and I do go to bed, Laurel—and we will—it’ll be someplace a hell of a lot more private than this. Because nothing is going to stop us from finishing what we started today.”

  Then he was gone.

  • • •

  Despite the near disaster at the lab, Devlin was in the best mood he’d been in for days. The delectable Dr. Young had proven quite a surprise. Behind that lab coat and clipboard lurked an amazingly passionate woman.

  He couldn’t wait to have her in his bed, naked and underneath him. They’d have to arrange it carefully, of course, but battle tactics were his specialty. Arranging a secret tryst wasn’t that much different from planning an ambush.

  He turned down First Avenue toward Pioneer Square, a popular tourist spot. Below the streets lay a network of passageways known as the Seattle Underground. Tours offered limited access to out-of-towners and locals, and none of them realized that the tumbledown brick walls from the past masked the high-tech control center of the Paladins.

  D.J. and the others got a kick out of watching the tourists as they were shepherded through the few parts of the Underground that were declared safe enough for the public. Devlin just considered them to be an inconvenience.

  Habit had him checking to make sure he wasn’t being tailed before ducking into the alley that offered the closest access to the Center. He nodded at the guard stationed near the entrance. Dressed as a down-on-his-luck drunk, complete with all the usual stains and smells, Penn’s appearance was enough to ward off most intruders. If that didn’t work, he had an impressive array of weapons hidden in his broken-down shopping cart.

  Penn was even more disreputable looking than he had been the last time; the man obviously took perverse pride in his job.

  “Cullen said for you to find him if you came in.”

  “Thanks, I’ll track him down.”

  Devlin trotted down the staircase and keyed in the code to open the door. Once inside, his normal wariness eased. If he was safe anywhere, it was here. Maybe Cullen had found out something about how Dev’s sword came to be stuck in the barrier.

  On the way to his office, Devlin stopped to chat with Lonzo and D.J. Neither of them had seen Cullen recently, but promised to let him know that Devlin was looking for him.

  The stack of reports sitting on his desk was almost enough to make him turn around and march right back out again. He wasn’t in the mood to read all those dry-as-dust statements about the current condition of the barrier. Hell, all he had to do was turn on the news to know that Mount St. Helens was spitting out steam and building a new lava dome.

  If the unstable mountain decided to blow her top again, Devlin and the others would be on the front lines, fighting to keep the Others out of this world. He brought up a map of the area on his computer, one programmed to show the hot spots along the barrier. Sure enough, where it came close to the irritable mountain, the barrier was being tested from the other side.

  He reached for the phone. “Lonzo, have we beefed up the coverage down near the mountain?”

  “We doubled it last night when the first rumblings were reported. Ordnance okayed another squad to be on call if needed.”

  “Send them now, because I’m not sure even that will be enough. The activity on the other side is increasing steadily.”

  He wanted to get down there himself, but he hadn’t been released back to active duty yet. If
he’d stuck around the lab long enough to finish up the rest of the tests, he might have been free and clear. Still, he couldn’t bring himself to regret anything that had happened—except for the alarm that brought the guards pouring into the lab.

  Although maybe it had been a good thing they had. A quick tumble on that uncomfortable, narrow bed might have taken the edge off his needs, but not for long, not the way his body reacted whenever he was within sniffing distance of his Handler. Laurel deserved to be treated with more respect than that.

  Normally he made sure a woman understood the transitory nature of their relationship, then they slipped off somewhere private and scratched a mutual itch. After he made sure his partner for the night was well satisfied, they parted company with no strings attached.

  Laurel came loaded with complications. She might know intellectually that Paladins gradually lost their basic human emotions, becoming more unpredictable and violent right up until they crossed that final line and had to be destroyed. But what would become of her the first time she was forced to put down one of her assigned cases like a rabid dog?

  What if it were him, especially when they became lovers? The man he was right now cared about that. The Other he was slowly becoming wouldn’t. So how could he protect her from himself?

  A light started flashing on his monitor, one that sent him running for the control room. Cullen and Lonzo, their faces grim, stared at the readings on their computers.

  “What just happened? And where?”

  “It looks like the mountain just sent up a plume of steam and ash. It’s too early to know how bad it was.”

  He should have gone, with or without a clean bill of health from Research. “Has the backup squad gotten there?”

  Lonzo tore his eyes away from the screen to check the time. “Not yet. Their ETA is in about fifteen minutes.”

  Devlin’s gut knotted up solid. “And the barrier? How are the readings?”

  Cullen answered, “It flickered on and off a couple of times. Right now it’s up, but if the mountain decides to throw her weight around some more, there’s no telling.”

  “Who’s got the lead?”

  “Trahern.”

  The knots loosened a bit. Blake Trahern was a coldblooded killing machine when it came to the enemy. If anyone could hold off a major onslaught with limited men and resources, he’d be the one. By all indications, the Others had been poised for invasion on the far side of the barrier, their numbers increasing daily as the pressure inside the mountain had grown. It would take more than a squad to hold them back. But if the barrier had indeed just flickered a bit, the Others would have come through in bursts instead of one overwhelming surge of hatred and weapons.

  Devlin dragged a chair over by Lonzo and Cullen and settled back to wait for the casualty reports to start rolling in.

  “Send a copy of any incoming injury reports directly to Dr. Neal to give him a heads-up. Hopefully he won’t need it, but it will make their job easier if they know who’s coming in and what shape they’re in.”

  He thought about calling Laurel directly, but decided against it. It wasn’t part of the normal routine to call individual Handlers. If one of her Paladins were injured—or worse, dead—she’d be called in time to prepare. Once again, she’d face long hours and no sleep. She’d give as much as it took to save one of hers.

  And she did it because she cared, not just because it was her job. That dedication made her much like the Paladins themselves.

  “The second squad has landed and is moving in.” Lonzo’s was the voice of calm reason. No matter how bad things got, he never panicked. After it was all over he was likely to explode in a fit of violent rage, depending on the outcome of the battle. They’d learned to shuffle him away from the expensive equipment before that happened. There was a room down the hall outfitted with punching bags so he could let off steam in a burst of flying fists and vicious kicks, not unlike the fickle mountain to the south.

  It would be awhile before any more reports came in. While they could still enjoy the lull, he returned to his office to send a second e-mail to Dr. Neal, asking for clearance to return to the trenches. The answer wasn’t long in coming.

  Devlin read it once and then again as he strung together the most vile curses he could think of. What could the man be thinking? The barrier was flickering, his friends were fighting and perhaps dying, and all that idiot doctor could think of was leeching a few more vials of blood out of his arm.

  Well, he’d be parked on the good doctor’s doorstep first thing in the morning, because come hell or high water, he was going to be on the next available transport down to the barrier.

  Those who carried the makeup of a Paladin in their DNA were hardwired to fight when the barrier was damaged. Each and every one of them could feel it on some level when the safety of their world was threatened by a breach in the fragile barrier that separated their reality from the bleak one on the other side. The tension built until they had a target for their aggression, suitable or otherwise.

  The Others were a constant threat to the stability of Earth’s fragile ecosystems. Thanks to earthquakes and volcanic eruptions, enough Others had successfully made the crossing to jeopardize the balance between their dark world and the light of Earth. The damage to the ozone layer alone was enough to cause major trouble in the years to come.

  Conditions on the other side must have worsened again for such sheer numbers to be trying to cross in one suicidal charge. Earth could absorb a certain number of the Others, and indeed had numerous times in the past. Based on recent strides in DNA mapping, it seemed that the addition of Others to mankind’s already diverse gene pool had given rise over time to the Paladins themselves.

  The scientists who worked for Research felt that explained the warriors’ sensitivity to the barrier. That was the good news. The opposite side of the coin was a Paladin’s tendency to become more and more like the Others as time went on. Now the organization was working on finding ways to prolong and strengthen a Paladin’s hold on all that made him human.

  Which brought him right back to Laurel Young, and her specific interest in him. Were her attempts to delve into his past more professional than personal? Or had the unmistakable attraction between them simply made her curious about her future lover?

  He wished he could have seen her face when he had bluntly announced his intention to bed her. Had those dark eyes of hers been shocked or intrigued? Only time would tell. For now, he had a battle to monitor and friends to worry about.

  He sat down at his desk and prepared to wait.

  • • •

  “Yes, Mom, I’m fine. My job is going great. And no, they aren’t working me too hard.” Except when she was on duty twenty-four hours a day to bring one of her patients back from death, but that was one of the many secrets she kept from her family.

  Laurel closed her eyes and curled up in the corner of her sofa. She loved her mother dearly, but she wasn’t in the mood for this particular conversation. Lately her mother had been on a mission to help her daughter find a nice man and settle down to the business of making her some more grandchildren, just as both of Laurel’s siblings had done.

  “Yes, Mom, I do know my birthday is coming up. If I can get away for a few days, I’ll let you know.”

  She was still two years short of thirty and was proud of all that she’d accomplished. If only her parents could share that pride, as well. They meant well, of course, but they’d never understood quite what to do with a daughter whose test scores were off the charts and whose interests were science and medicine, not prom dates and homecoming games like the other girls in their small town.

  High school had been a nightmare until the day a letter had mysteriously arrived from a group calling themselves the Regents, offering her a full scholarship to start college at the age of fifteen. There had been tears and arguments, but she’d packed her bags and caught the next plane to Seattle. Except for the occasional visit home, she hadn’t looked back.

&nb
sp; The Regents had saved her from the life her parents had planned for her, one for which she was particularly ill-suited. She loved her family and her hometown dearly; they were great. She was the one who didn’t fit in.

  Suddenly, Laurel realized that she’d missed something in the conversation. “What did you just say, Mom?”

  “I was telling you that he’ll be glad to show you around. It’s been so long since you’ve lived here, I know you’d enjoy having someone point out all the changes.”

  A sick feeling settled in her stomach. “Who could show me around?”

  “I swear, Laurel, you just don’t listen unless the conversation is revolving around some disease.” Her mother’s long-suffering sigh came across the phone line, loud and clear. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean that. It’s just that…I want you to be happy.”

  Her definition of happy, not Laurel’s. “Who is going to show me around, Mom?”

  “Why, your brother’s new business partner, Carl. Who did you think I meant?”

  Her parents sometimes forgot Laurel’s excellent memory for details. “Is that the same Carl who has an ex-wife, a pot-belly, and no hair to speak of?”

  “Well, yes, although you shouldn’t judge a person on looks alone. I know he’s had some problems in the past, but that’s all over now. He’s looking for a nice wife to settle down with.”

  “I wish Carl luck, Mother, but that nice little wife isn’t going to be me. For one thing, he needs to be near his business, and my job is here.”

  Her mom’s voice brightened right up. “But that’s just it, Laurel. Like I’ve been telling you, the whole area is growing so fast. I was talking to Dr. Watson the other day, and he says he has more patients than he can handle alone. I know he’d be glad for your help, even if you wanted to just work part-time. You know, if you were to get married and all.”

  Laurel didn’t want to hurt her mother, but neither could she let her go on thinking that Laurel’s career was just something she did to earn a living, rather than an integral part of who she was.

  “Mother, I’m sorry if this upsets you, but I’m not moving back home. My work here is too important.” Lives depended on her particular expertise and training. “Besides, I’m not a general practitioner like Dr. Watson. My interest is in research, and I need specialized facilities for that.”