"Aphrodite's_Secret_013" - читать интересную книгу автора (Kenner _Julie_-_[Protector_03]_-_Aphrodite's_Secret_(V1.0)_[lit](multi-file...)

Chapter Nine

He wasn’t answering her page.
Lane sucked in four deep breaths and told herself to be calm. He was probably just occupied. Busy. Right in the middle of rescuing her son. Surely he wasn’t flat on some concrete slab with a buzz saw about to slice and dice him.
She glanced at her watch. Thirteen minutes since they’d left.
Dammit, he should be answering!
She tried again. Waited. Still no answer.
Visions of snarling, drooling hellhounds filled her thoughts. Mad scientists, performing experiments on the captured Jason and Boreas. Davy, kicking and screaming as Hieronymous burst through a glass ceiling a la The Poseidon Adventure, and then flew away, his maniacal cackle echoing over the waves.
Sharp pain shot through her hands and she realized she’d dug her fingernails into her palms, drawing blood.
This time she took five deep breaths. They didn’t help. She tried another page. Still no answer.
Okay, then. Apparently it was up to her to rescue her son, her former lover, and a freshman Protector. No problem. Except for the swimming-to-shore part, no problem at all.
With one more deep breath for courage, she slipped off her shorts, revealing the bathing suit Jason had provided her, and peered over the edge of the boat. The water looked deep and black. If there were sharks down there, were they going to think she was lunch?
And what if the boat had drifted? She thought the invisible island had been to the left, but maybe it was now to the right. Should she jump in and just start paddling? She might reach Australia before she reached Davy.
Not that that would happen, of course. She’d be fish food long before she made it to Australia.
Still, what choice did she have? Her son was in danger, and so was Jason. By God, she was going to help!
Carefully, Lane stood and placed one foot on the edge of the boat, then the other, until she was balanced on the side. Quickly, before she had time to think about it, she held her nose and jumped.
Warm water enveloped her, but her head didn’t go under thanks to her life jacket. She started paddling, hoping like heck she was headed in the right direction.
After a bit, the air shimmered in front of her. She blinked, wondering if her serious lack of food was going to her head. The air shimmered again, only this time, Lane thought she saw the faint outline of rocks and palm trees. Wishful thinking? Or the island?
She paddled faster, this time adding a kick for good measure. Her toes hit something solid and she recoiled, fearing she’d just smacked a hungry shark in the head. But when she looked down, she didn’t see a shark, but sand.
She’d made it! And the island was closer than she’d realized. Looking up, she saw its wide expanse: a sandy beach ending in dense foliage.
Something moved in the foliage, and Lane twisted, futilely searching for a hiding place. She tried to duck under the water, but her life vest kept her up, so she just held her breath, staving very, very still, and hoped that whoever was coming wouldn’t look in her direction.
More movement, more rustling of leaves. Just past the beach the branches shook, something emerging from the shadows. There was a flash of skin, and then—
“Davy!” With her heart about to explode, Lane sloshed forward. Her life jacket was wet and heavy, so she yanked it off, tossing it over her head.
“Mommy!” Her son’s eyes widened and he ran to her, his little legs splashing through the surf.
They met at the top of the beach, and Lane scooped Davy into her arms, dropping to her knees and smothering him with kisses. “Oh, my sweet baby!” she gasped. She gripped his shoulders and pushed him back to look him over. “Are you okay? Did Hieronymous hurt you?” She lifted his shirt and started to look for bruises.
“Mommy,” he protested, smoothing the shirt back down. “I’m okay.” He pressed closer, his arms tight around her neck.
Lane’s legs turned to rubber and she sank down, sitting fully on the sand with Davy in her lap. She didn’t want him to see her crying, so she pulled him close, pressing his head against her chest as she fought tears. They were inevitable, she knew that; but maybe if she tried hard enough she could hold off until she was home, curled up on the sofa, with a pillow pressed tight to her face.
With effort, she pulled herself together, then leaned back, needing to look at him one more time. She stroked her boy’s hair, laughing with delight at the way he squirmed, his protests of “Mommy,” falling on deaf ears.
Thank God he was safe. She just kept repeating that over and over in her mind, like a mantra. Thank God, and thank Jason.
She frowned, looking around, but there was no sign of him. Had he stayed behind? Had he been caught by Hieronymous? Did he need her help?
“Where’s Jason?” she asked, tilting Davy’s head up. She held her breath, half-expecting to hear that he was trussed like a turkey above a vat of boiling oil. She didn’t expect the answer she got.
“Who?” Davy asked.
“Jason,” she repeated. “Your ... uh ... the man who rescued you.”
He shook his head, his eyes wide. “Nobody rescued me, Mommy. I rescued myself.”



Jason’s stomach twisted as he and Boreas crept through the tunnels searching for Davy. The boy’s cell was empty, which meant Hieronymous must have taken him somewhere else. Jason didn’t know where, but he damn sure would find out.
His pager vibrated, and Jason cupped his hand over it, just about to answer when they reached the end of the corridor. A cavern loomed ahead, huge and foreboding. Inside, Hieronymous stood before a massive structure covered with midnight-black cloth.
Davy was under that cloth; somehow, Jason just knew. He had to get his son free.
In a flash, Jason pressed his back against the wall, slamming Boreas back as well. His heart pounded in his chest, so loud he feared his Outcast father could hear. His pager vibrated again, but Jason couldn’t do anything but stand stock still. He wanted to answer, to tell Lane that he was all right and that he’d find Davy, but Hieronymous was too close. He couldn’t risk the man overhearing him.
“Well, well, well.” His father’s deep voice echoed through the chamber.
Jason cringed. Too late. Hieronymous was walking toward them.
Passing Boreas the vibrating pager, Jason signaled for him to get back. Then he took a deep breath, drew himself to his full height, and stepped into the center of the corridor—and into Hieronymous’s clutches.
“Look, Clyde,” Hieronymous said to the Outcast standing beside him. “The prodigal son returns.” He lifted his hand, revealing a silver orb resting in his palm. Returning his full attention to Jason, he asked, “Are you coming to accept my invitation at last? Or to meet your doom?”
“Neither,” Jason answered. He clenched his fists, fighting the urge to once and for all go mano a mano with his father. Time enough for that later. Right now, he had to help Davy. He met Hieronymous’s icy gaze. “I’m here to rescue my son.”
“Pity,” Hieronymous said. “I had so hoped to have a son—an heir—who was worthy of inheriting my empire.”
“You don’t have an empire,” Jason snapped. “You have a delusion.”
A dangerous smile touched Hieronymous’s lips. “Ah, but I will have one.” He extended his hand, the silver orb balanced on his palm. “And you can be part of it. Or you can die.”
“I’m gonna go with none of the above,” Jason said. He moved with lightning speed, retrieving the knife from his utility belt and taking deadly aim. But just before the blade left his hand, Hieronymous’s orb hummed with power and emitted a flash of light.
Jason howled, recoiling, as pain seared his arm. He glanced down to see an angry red welt where his wetsuit was sliced below the shoulder.
“Bastard,” he snarled.
“Next time, the beam will find your heart.” Hieronymous took another step forward. “Perhaps you would like to reconsider my most generous offer?”
Jason gave him the finger.
“How very eloquent,” Hieronymous replied. He looked sideways toward Clyde.
Jason took advantage of the moment to rush forward. It was foolhardy, maybe, but dammit, he wanted to get his hands around his father’s neck. As he moved, Clyde called out.
Hieronymous turned back, and immediately hurled his orb at the ground in front of Jason. The impact released a burst of white fog, sickly sweet, like apples simmering in brown sugar.
Jason tried to continue on, tried to get to Hieronymous, but his muscles wouldn’t work. His legs couldn’t support him; he fell backward against the cavern wall, hanging on to a rocky outcropping for dear life.
“Dear boy,” Hieronymous asked, striding toward him over Clyde’s crumpled form. “Did you really think you could defeat me? With my intellect? With my resources?” He shook his head. “How silly.”
He bent over to retrieve Jason’s knife. “It pains me to do this, of course. I get no pleasure in disposing of one of my own blood.”
“Davy,” Jason said, forcing out the word as his fingers dug into the wall behind him in an attempt to stay upright.
“The boy will survive my procedure, I assure you.” Hieronymous’s shoulder lifted just slightly. “He will, of course, have a somewhat altered brain, but that simply can’t be helped. You, however . ..” He trailed off, hatred kindling in his eyes. “You could have been everything to me, and yet you chose to slap me in the face. You, son, will not survive.”
Jason tried to will his muscles to move, but they would not. Hieronymous threw the knife. As the deadly blade headed straight for Jason’s heart, a dozen regrets danced through his head. He closed his eyes, thoughts of Lane and Davy filling his last moments. And then—
Nothing.
He opened his eyes, his brow furrowed.
The knife clattered to the floor across the room, and Boreas’s arm—long and elastic—was snapping back. The young Protector had shot his arm out, slingshot style, and knocked the blade clear. Now, on his hand’s return journey, Boreas grabbed the back of Jason’s wetsuit and pulled him back into the tunnel.
As Hieronymous looked on, dumbfounded, Boreas took Jason in his arms and bounced both of them across the chamber toward the water in its center.
“Davy,” Jason said, his voice a weak protest.
“Lane has him!” Boreas whispered. “I answered her page.”
Relief flooded Jason. Davy was safe.
No thanks to him, of course.
With the bitter taste of failure still clinging to Jason’s tongue, Boreas dove them into the water. The last thing Jason saw before the current took him, was Hieronymous’s dumbstruck face—and the vow of vengeance burning in his eyes.



Mordichai stared at the monitor, his mouth slightly agape. Son? Hieronymous had called Jason son?
All these years, he’d thought he was the only one, the heir-apparent to Hieronymous’s definite fortune and dubious fame. Now, to find out that he had a brother, and a full Protector at that...
A twinge of jealousy prickled him, tempered by an odd sense of melancholy. Mordi stared, transfixed, at the monitor. Only moments before it had revealed his sibling, the man Hieronymous wanted for his heir. Not Mordi. Never Mordi.
Or maybe ...
Now that Jason was so clearly out of the picture, perhaps Mordi’s stock had gone up. In Hieronymous’s eyes, maybe a loyal halfling son was better than a traitorous pureblood. Interesting.
He tapped his lip, wondering. What had he lost by not knowing of Jason’s existence? More important, what might he gain in the future?



Lane couldn’t stop hugging Davy. Couldn’t stop looking in his eyes. Couldn’t stop running her fingers through his baby-fine hair.
He was back. She’d gotten her baby back!
She was so wrapped up in Davy that she didn’t notice the tripwire she’d scooted backward against and managed to pull taut. Davy’s shriek alerted her, but by then, of course, it was too late; she and he were dangling upside down from a palm tree, caught in an old-fashioned hunter’s net.
Not a great situation, to say the least. Even worse, from her new vantage point she could clearly see a camera mounted among the palm tree’s coconuts.
Hieronymous was watching. Which meant he’d be coming soon.
“Mommy!”
“I know, sweetie. We need to get out of here.” Lane tugged at the ropes with her hands, but they held fast. She needed something to cut them with, but she didn’t have anything. She’d jumped into the water wearing only her bathing suit, a T-shirt, and a tiny waist pack with her keys, driver’s license, a tube of Blistex, a pair of fingernail clippers, and some Coppertone. The pager had been clipped to the waist pack’s strap, but now she could see it on the ground below her, half buried in the soft sand.
Great. This didn’t leave her a whole lot of options.
She cocked her head, running the inventory through her mind one more time. Was there anything to cut with? Yes. “Davy, honey, can you reach my pack?”
She was half-sitting on him, probably squashing him, but she could feel him nod, then felt his little hands searching her. After a second, she heard her pack’s zipper. “You want the clippers, Mommy?”
“That’s right.” She reached down blindly. “Can you hand them to me?”
He couldn’t. His arms were too short. And he certainly couldn’t throw them. Lane couldn’t catch on her best days, and she wasn’t about to try while hanging upside down and backward.
“Want me to start clipping, Mom?”
“You better believe it,” she said. Then, while her son clipped, Lane did the only thing she could do. She waited.



By the time Jason emerged in the shallow water of an island lagoon, Hieronymous’s drug had worn off, and Jason’s body was his own again. He was half-tempted to turn right back around, to take his father on again, but then he caught sight of the beach. Upon it, Lane and Davy were suspended from a coconut tree.
“Jason!” she called. “There’s a camera! Hieronymous! Is he coming? Do you see him?”
Jason didn’t, but that didn’t mean the man wasn’t right behind him. Under the circumstances, Hieronymous was probably starting to comb the whole island for him—and now probably his son.
Familiar fear rose in his throat. They were all in danger now. And though he’d wanted his family back, he sure as hell hadn’t wanted them all trapped together in a fishbowl.
With Boreas at his heels he raced forward, thrilling at the way his muscles again responded to his commands. His mind sorted through the fastest way to get his family down.
As it turned out, that wasn’t a problem. Right as he approached the net split, and Lane and Davy tumbled to the ground. Davy immediately broke out in peals of laughter, but Lane just lay there. Jason was pretty sure his heart stopped the second she hit the ground.
“Lane?” he asked.
She groaned, rolling onto her side. “Ouch,” she said.
He was next to her in an instant. “Are you okay?”
She nodded. “I’m fine. Soft sand.”
Davy watched Jason through narrowed eyes for a moment, then scooted closer to his mother. It didn’t trouble Jason. There’d be time enough for father-son bonding later. Right now, he was too relieved that everyone was safe to think about anything else.
Clutching her arm, he pulled Lane to her feet. The urge to throttle her was almost as strong as the urge to kiss her, to hold her tight—to never, ever, let her out of his sight again.
He pushed back, still holding her, but needing to see Lane’s eyes. What would he have done if Hieronymous had captured her? Or worse? “What the hell are you doing here? Do you know how stupid—” The words were out of his mouth before he had time to think.
The expression on her face shifted from one of relief to one of irritation, even anger. Automatically he stepped back, increasing the space between them even as he continued to hold her arms.
No use. She jerked free, then took Davy’s arm and led the boy to Boreas. “Get him to the boat,” she said. The young Protector nodded, led Davy to the edge of the water.
The kid didn’t look too happy. He kept looking back at Jason and Lane. “Mommy? Are you coming?”
“I’m right behind you, sweetie.”
Davy aimed a glare at Jason. “With him?”
“That’s right. It’s okay. Trust me.” She turned to Jason. “But as for you, where the hell do you get off? Did you really expect me to just twiddle my thumbs while you rushed off to rescue my son?”
He urged her toward the water. “I expected you to follow the plan,” he explained, his voice less harsh. She was safe, and his initial wave of fear had crested.
“The plan where you answered my pages and told me what was going on?” she asked. She looked ready to explode; then she sighed. “Okay, maybe it was stupid of me to come ... but I was all alone, Jason. I thought Davy needed help. Hell, I thought you needed help.”
They were in the water now. He cut through the waves with ease, one arm on Lane’s elbow as he towed her forward. She glared at him, but didn’t resist.
“You swam to shore?” he asked, surprised.
She nodded.
“That was brave,” he said. It wasn’t exactly an apology, but it was the best he could manage under the circumstances.
“Damn straight it was.”
There was a pause; then he grinned, and she grinned back.
“I am sorry,” she said. “I had to get Davy. I didn’t know what had happened to you. I never meant to get caught.”
“No one ever does,” he agreed, thinking about his past And then there was this time. Boreas had done good.
“Yes, but he’s my son, and I wasn’t going to stand by when I could do something to help. He needed his mother.”
Jason tugged her closer. “He’s my son, too.”
“By blood, maybe, but you didn’t raise him. You didn’t change his diapers. You didn’t watch ‘Barney’ over and over until you swore you were going to take out a contract on that dinosaur’s life.”
“Don’t you think I wanted to? Don’t you think I spent every day that I was trapped in that aquarium dying inside?”
Tears began to stream down her face, mingling with the water of the ocean, and Jason’s insides crumpled. He didn’t want to see Lane cry. He hated feeling helpless, but he didn’t have any idea how to stop the flood.
“I’m sorry I got Davy and me trapped,” she said between sniffles. “But I had to come. I had to get Davy.”
Jason sighed, her words cutting a hole in his heart. He understood. “No, it’s my fault. I shouldn’t have expected you to stay put. And, all things considered, I definitely shouldn’t have expected you to trust me to find him.”
She tilted her head back as he pulled her through the water, her eyes wide with surprise. “Don’t say that. I did trust you.”
He shook his head. “Well, it’s a moot point, since the boy rescued himself.”
“He’s a smart kid,” Lane agreed. She licked her lips. “A lot smarter than me. I guess I didn’t do much of anything except almost get us caught.”
She twisted around in his arms to point back at the tree with the camera. “Why didn’t we get caught?” she continued. “Not that I’m complaining, but Davy and I were in that net for a while.” She frowned, floating alongside Jason as he continued to tug her toward the boat.
He shook his head. “I don’t know. Maybe that camera was turned off. Maybe Hieronymous was too busy licking his wounds after he tangled with me and Boreas. Maybe Jupiter is aligned with Mars.”
At that, Lane actually laughed. “That must be it.”
Jason found himself pondering her earlier words, how she’d been hard on herself. “You’ve done a great job, you know.” He nodded toward his boat, where Davy was climbing up the ladder. “Of being a mom, I mean.”
A new tear slid down her cheek, and Lane stopped him from swimming. She pulled close to kiss him on the cheek.
The gesture was simple, but the effect on him was not. Heat spread through his body, and he was overwhelmed with a desire to kiss away her worries and her fears. Hell, he wanted her to kiss away his own.
“Thank you for that,” she said. “And thank you for bringing me here.”
He brushed his lips across her hair. “You’re welcome,” he said; then he pulled her close. And as they hung there, suspended in the warm water, their legs rubbing as he slowly treaded water, he realized that he couldn’t live the lie she wanted.
He loved this woman. Dammit all, he always would. Whether she wanted him to or not. He didn’t want to pretend to be her friend—not if it meant he could never be her lover again. He didn’t want to be a part-time daddy, and he didn’t want to work his way slowly back up the ladder into her good graces. He wanted his family back. He wanted Lane.
And one way or another, he was going to get her.

Chapter Nine

He wasn’t answering her page.
Lane sucked in four deep breaths and told herself to be calm. He was probably just occupied. Busy. Right in the middle of rescuing her son. Surely he wasn’t flat on some concrete slab with a buzz saw about to slice and dice him.
She glanced at her watch. Thirteen minutes since they’d left.
Dammit, he should be answering!
She tried again. Waited. Still no answer.
Visions of snarling, drooling hellhounds filled her thoughts. Mad scientists, performing experiments on the captured Jason and Boreas. Davy, kicking and screaming as Hieronymous burst through a glass ceiling a la The Poseidon Adventure, and then flew away, his maniacal cackle echoing over the waves.
Sharp pain shot through her hands and she realized she’d dug her fingernails into her palms, drawing blood.
This time she took five deep breaths. They didn’t help. She tried another page. Still no answer.
Okay, then. Apparently it was up to her to rescue her son, her former lover, and a freshman Protector. No problem. Except for the swimming-to-shore part, no problem at all.
With one more deep breath for courage, she slipped off her shorts, revealing the bathing suit Jason had provided her, and peered over the edge of the boat. The water looked deep and black. If there were sharks down there, were they going to think she was lunch?
And what if the boat had drifted? She thought the invisible island had been to the left, but maybe it was now to the right. Should she jump in and just start paddling? She might reach Australia before she reached Davy.
Not that that would happen, of course. She’d be fish food long before she made it to Australia.
Still, what choice did she have? Her son was in danger, and so was Jason. By God, she was going to help!
Carefully, Lane stood and placed one foot on the edge of the boat, then the other, until she was balanced on the side. Quickly, before she had time to think about it, she held her nose and jumped.
Warm water enveloped her, but her head didn’t go under thanks to her life jacket. She started paddling, hoping like heck she was headed in the right direction.
After a bit, the air shimmered in front of her. She blinked, wondering if her serious lack of food was going to her head. The air shimmered again, only this time, Lane thought she saw the faint outline of rocks and palm trees. Wishful thinking? Or the island?
She paddled faster, this time adding a kick for good measure. Her toes hit something solid and she recoiled, fearing she’d just smacked a hungry shark in the head. But when she looked down, she didn’t see a shark, but sand.
She’d made it! And the island was closer than she’d realized. Looking up, she saw its wide expanse: a sandy beach ending in dense foliage.
Something moved in the foliage, and Lane twisted, futilely searching for a hiding place. She tried to duck under the water, but her life vest kept her up, so she just held her breath, staving very, very still, and hoped that whoever was coming wouldn’t look in her direction.
More movement, more rustling of leaves. Just past the beach the branches shook, something emerging from the shadows. There was a flash of skin, and then—
“Davy!” With her heart about to explode, Lane sloshed forward. Her life jacket was wet and heavy, so she yanked it off, tossing it over her head.
“Mommy!” Her son’s eyes widened and he ran to her, his little legs splashing through the surf.
They met at the top of the beach, and Lane scooped Davy into her arms, dropping to her knees and smothering him with kisses. “Oh, my sweet baby!” she gasped. She gripped his shoulders and pushed him back to look him over. “Are you okay? Did Hieronymous hurt you?” She lifted his shirt and started to look for bruises.
“Mommy,” he protested, smoothing the shirt back down. “I’m okay.” He pressed closer, his arms tight around her neck.
Lane’s legs turned to rubber and she sank down, sitting fully on the sand with Davy in her lap. She didn’t want him to see her crying, so she pulled him close, pressing his head against her chest as she fought tears. They were inevitable, she knew that; but maybe if she tried hard enough she could hold off until she was home, curled up on the sofa, with a pillow pressed tight to her face.
With effort, she pulled herself together, then leaned back, needing to look at him one more time. She stroked her boy’s hair, laughing with delight at the way he squirmed, his protests of “Mommy,” falling on deaf ears.
Thank God he was safe. She just kept repeating that over and over in her mind, like a mantra. Thank God, and thank Jason.
She frowned, looking around, but there was no sign of him. Had he stayed behind? Had he been caught by Hieronymous? Did he need her help?
“Where’s Jason?” she asked, tilting Davy’s head up. She held her breath, half-expecting to hear that he was trussed like a turkey above a vat of boiling oil. She didn’t expect the answer she got.
“Who?” Davy asked.
“Jason,” she repeated. “Your ... uh ... the man who rescued you.”
He shook his head, his eyes wide. “Nobody rescued me, Mommy. I rescued myself.”



Jason’s stomach twisted as he and Boreas crept through the tunnels searching for Davy. The boy’s cell was empty, which meant Hieronymous must have taken him somewhere else. Jason didn’t know where, but he damn sure would find out.
His pager vibrated, and Jason cupped his hand over it, just about to answer when they reached the end of the corridor. A cavern loomed ahead, huge and foreboding. Inside, Hieronymous stood before a massive structure covered with midnight-black cloth.
Davy was under that cloth; somehow, Jason just knew. He had to get his son free.
In a flash, Jason pressed his back against the wall, slamming Boreas back as well. His heart pounded in his chest, so loud he feared his Outcast father could hear. His pager vibrated again, but Jason couldn’t do anything but stand stock still. He wanted to answer, to tell Lane that he was all right and that he’d find Davy, but Hieronymous was too close. He couldn’t risk the man overhearing him.
“Well, well, well.” His father’s deep voice echoed through the chamber.
Jason cringed. Too late. Hieronymous was walking toward them.
Passing Boreas the vibrating pager, Jason signaled for him to get back. Then he took a deep breath, drew himself to his full height, and stepped into the center of the corridor—and into Hieronymous’s clutches.
“Look, Clyde,” Hieronymous said to the Outcast standing beside him. “The prodigal son returns.” He lifted his hand, revealing a silver orb resting in his palm. Returning his full attention to Jason, he asked, “Are you coming to accept my invitation at last? Or to meet your doom?”
“Neither,” Jason answered. He clenched his fists, fighting the urge to once and for all go mano a mano with his father. Time enough for that later. Right now, he had to help Davy. He met Hieronymous’s icy gaze. “I’m here to rescue my son.”
“Pity,” Hieronymous said. “I had so hoped to have a son—an heir—who was worthy of inheriting my empire.”
“You don’t have an empire,” Jason snapped. “You have a delusion.”
A dangerous smile touched Hieronymous’s lips. “Ah, but I will have one.” He extended his hand, the silver orb balanced on his palm. “And you can be part of it. Or you can die.”
“I’m gonna go with none of the above,” Jason said. He moved with lightning speed, retrieving the knife from his utility belt and taking deadly aim. But just before the blade left his hand, Hieronymous’s orb hummed with power and emitted a flash of light.
Jason howled, recoiling, as pain seared his arm. He glanced down to see an angry red welt where his wetsuit was sliced below the shoulder.
“Bastard,” he snarled.
“Next time, the beam will find your heart.” Hieronymous took another step forward. “Perhaps you would like to reconsider my most generous offer?”
Jason gave him the finger.
“How very eloquent,” Hieronymous replied. He looked sideways toward Clyde.
Jason took advantage of the moment to rush forward. It was foolhardy, maybe, but dammit, he wanted to get his hands around his father’s neck. As he moved, Clyde called out.
Hieronymous turned back, and immediately hurled his orb at the ground in front of Jason. The impact released a burst of white fog, sickly sweet, like apples simmering in brown sugar.
Jason tried to continue on, tried to get to Hieronymous, but his muscles wouldn’t work. His legs couldn’t support him; he fell backward against the cavern wall, hanging on to a rocky outcropping for dear life.
“Dear boy,” Hieronymous asked, striding toward him over Clyde’s crumpled form. “Did you really think you could defeat me? With my intellect? With my resources?” He shook his head. “How silly.”
He bent over to retrieve Jason’s knife. “It pains me to do this, of course. I get no pleasure in disposing of one of my own blood.”
“Davy,” Jason said, forcing out the word as his fingers dug into the wall behind him in an attempt to stay upright.
“The boy will survive my procedure, I assure you.” Hieronymous’s shoulder lifted just slightly. “He will, of course, have a somewhat altered brain, but that simply can’t be helped. You, however . ..” He trailed off, hatred kindling in his eyes. “You could have been everything to me, and yet you chose to slap me in the face. You, son, will not survive.”
Jason tried to will his muscles to move, but they would not. Hieronymous threw the knife. As the deadly blade headed straight for Jason’s heart, a dozen regrets danced through his head. He closed his eyes, thoughts of Lane and Davy filling his last moments. And then—
Nothing.
He opened his eyes, his brow furrowed.
The knife clattered to the floor across the room, and Boreas’s arm—long and elastic—was snapping back. The young Protector had shot his arm out, slingshot style, and knocked the blade clear. Now, on his hand’s return journey, Boreas grabbed the back of Jason’s wetsuit and pulled him back into the tunnel.
As Hieronymous looked on, dumbfounded, Boreas took Jason in his arms and bounced both of them across the chamber toward the water in its center.
“Davy,” Jason said, his voice a weak protest.
“Lane has him!” Boreas whispered. “I answered her page.”
Relief flooded Jason. Davy was safe.
No thanks to him, of course.
With the bitter taste of failure still clinging to Jason’s tongue, Boreas dove them into the water. The last thing Jason saw before the current took him, was Hieronymous’s dumbstruck face—and the vow of vengeance burning in his eyes.



Mordichai stared at the monitor, his mouth slightly agape. Son? Hieronymous had called Jason son?
All these years, he’d thought he was the only one, the heir-apparent to Hieronymous’s definite fortune and dubious fame. Now, to find out that he had a brother, and a full Protector at that...
A twinge of jealousy prickled him, tempered by an odd sense of melancholy. Mordi stared, transfixed, at the monitor. Only moments before it had revealed his sibling, the man Hieronymous wanted for his heir. Not Mordi. Never Mordi.
Or maybe ...
Now that Jason was so clearly out of the picture, perhaps Mordi’s stock had gone up. In Hieronymous’s eyes, maybe a loyal halfling son was better than a traitorous pureblood. Interesting.
He tapped his lip, wondering. What had he lost by not knowing of Jason’s existence? More important, what might he gain in the future?



Lane couldn’t stop hugging Davy. Couldn’t stop looking in his eyes. Couldn’t stop running her fingers through his baby-fine hair.
He was back. She’d gotten her baby back!
She was so wrapped up in Davy that she didn’t notice the tripwire she’d scooted backward against and managed to pull taut. Davy’s shriek alerted her, but by then, of course, it was too late; she and he were dangling upside down from a palm tree, caught in an old-fashioned hunter’s net.
Not a great situation, to say the least. Even worse, from her new vantage point she could clearly see a camera mounted among the palm tree’s coconuts.
Hieronymous was watching. Which meant he’d be coming soon.
“Mommy!”
“I know, sweetie. We need to get out of here.” Lane tugged at the ropes with her hands, but they held fast. She needed something to cut them with, but she didn’t have anything. She’d jumped into the water wearing only her bathing suit, a T-shirt, and a tiny waist pack with her keys, driver’s license, a tube of Blistex, a pair of fingernail clippers, and some Coppertone. The pager had been clipped to the waist pack’s strap, but now she could see it on the ground below her, half buried in the soft sand.
Great. This didn’t leave her a whole lot of options.
She cocked her head, running the inventory through her mind one more time. Was there anything to cut with? Yes. “Davy, honey, can you reach my pack?”
She was half-sitting on him, probably squashing him, but she could feel him nod, then felt his little hands searching her. After a second, she heard her pack’s zipper. “You want the clippers, Mommy?”
“That’s right.” She reached down blindly. “Can you hand them to me?”
He couldn’t. His arms were too short. And he certainly couldn’t throw them. Lane couldn’t catch on her best days, and she wasn’t about to try while hanging upside down and backward.
“Want me to start clipping, Mom?”
“You better believe it,” she said. Then, while her son clipped, Lane did the only thing she could do. She waited.



By the time Jason emerged in the shallow water of an island lagoon, Hieronymous’s drug had worn off, and Jason’s body was his own again. He was half-tempted to turn right back around, to take his father on again, but then he caught sight of the beach. Upon it, Lane and Davy were suspended from a coconut tree.
“Jason!” she called. “There’s a camera! Hieronymous! Is he coming? Do you see him?”
Jason didn’t, but that didn’t mean the man wasn’t right behind him. Under the circumstances, Hieronymous was probably starting to comb the whole island for him—and now probably his son.
Familiar fear rose in his throat. They were all in danger now. And though he’d wanted his family back, he sure as hell hadn’t wanted them all trapped together in a fishbowl.
With Boreas at his heels he raced forward, thrilling at the way his muscles again responded to his commands. His mind sorted through the fastest way to get his family down.
As it turned out, that wasn’t a problem. Right as he approached the net split, and Lane and Davy tumbled to the ground. Davy immediately broke out in peals of laughter, but Lane just lay there. Jason was pretty sure his heart stopped the second she hit the ground.
“Lane?” he asked.
She groaned, rolling onto her side. “Ouch,” she said.
He was next to her in an instant. “Are you okay?”
She nodded. “I’m fine. Soft sand.”
Davy watched Jason through narrowed eyes for a moment, then scooted closer to his mother. It didn’t trouble Jason. There’d be time enough for father-son bonding later. Right now, he was too relieved that everyone was safe to think about anything else.
Clutching her arm, he pulled Lane to her feet. The urge to throttle her was almost as strong as the urge to kiss her, to hold her tight—to never, ever, let her out of his sight again.
He pushed back, still holding her, but needing to see Lane’s eyes. What would he have done if Hieronymous had captured her? Or worse? “What the hell are you doing here? Do you know how stupid—” The words were out of his mouth before he had time to think.
The expression on her face shifted from one of relief to one of irritation, even anger. Automatically he stepped back, increasing the space between them even as he continued to hold her arms.
No use. She jerked free, then took Davy’s arm and led the boy to Boreas. “Get him to the boat,” she said. The young Protector nodded, led Davy to the edge of the water.
The kid didn’t look too happy. He kept looking back at Jason and Lane. “Mommy? Are you coming?”
“I’m right behind you, sweetie.”
Davy aimed a glare at Jason. “With him?”
“That’s right. It’s okay. Trust me.” She turned to Jason. “But as for you, where the hell do you get off? Did you really expect me to just twiddle my thumbs while you rushed off to rescue my son?”
He urged her toward the water. “I expected you to follow the plan,” he explained, his voice less harsh. She was safe, and his initial wave of fear had crested.
“The plan where you answered my pages and told me what was going on?” she asked. She looked ready to explode; then she sighed. “Okay, maybe it was stupid of me to come ... but I was all alone, Jason. I thought Davy needed help. Hell, I thought you needed help.”
They were in the water now. He cut through the waves with ease, one arm on Lane’s elbow as he towed her forward. She glared at him, but didn’t resist.
“You swam to shore?” he asked, surprised.
She nodded.
“That was brave,” he said. It wasn’t exactly an apology, but it was the best he could manage under the circumstances.
“Damn straight it was.”
There was a pause; then he grinned, and she grinned back.
“I am sorry,” she said. “I had to get Davy. I didn’t know what had happened to you. I never meant to get caught.”
“No one ever does,” he agreed, thinking about his past And then there was this time. Boreas had done good.
“Yes, but he’s my son, and I wasn’t going to stand by when I could do something to help. He needed his mother.”
Jason tugged her closer. “He’s my son, too.”
“By blood, maybe, but you didn’t raise him. You didn’t change his diapers. You didn’t watch ‘Barney’ over and over until you swore you were going to take out a contract on that dinosaur’s life.”
“Don’t you think I wanted to? Don’t you think I spent every day that I was trapped in that aquarium dying inside?”
Tears began to stream down her face, mingling with the water of the ocean, and Jason’s insides crumpled. He didn’t want to see Lane cry. He hated feeling helpless, but he didn’t have any idea how to stop the flood.
“I’m sorry I got Davy and me trapped,” she said between sniffles. “But I had to come. I had to get Davy.”
Jason sighed, her words cutting a hole in his heart. He understood. “No, it’s my fault. I shouldn’t have expected you to stay put. And, all things considered, I definitely shouldn’t have expected you to trust me to find him.”
She tilted her head back as he pulled her through the water, her eyes wide with surprise. “Don’t say that. I did trust you.”
He shook his head. “Well, it’s a moot point, since the boy rescued himself.”
“He’s a smart kid,” Lane agreed. She licked her lips. “A lot smarter than me. I guess I didn’t do much of anything except almost get us caught.”
She twisted around in his arms to point back at the tree with the camera. “Why didn’t we get caught?” she continued. “Not that I’m complaining, but Davy and I were in that net for a while.” She frowned, floating alongside Jason as he continued to tug her toward the boat.
He shook his head. “I don’t know. Maybe that camera was turned off. Maybe Hieronymous was too busy licking his wounds after he tangled with me and Boreas. Maybe Jupiter is aligned with Mars.”
At that, Lane actually laughed. “That must be it.”
Jason found himself pondering her earlier words, how she’d been hard on herself. “You’ve done a great job, you know.” He nodded toward his boat, where Davy was climbing up the ladder. “Of being a mom, I mean.”
A new tear slid down her cheek, and Lane stopped him from swimming. She pulled close to kiss him on the cheek.
The gesture was simple, but the effect on him was not. Heat spread through his body, and he was overwhelmed with a desire to kiss away her worries and her fears. Hell, he wanted her to kiss away his own.
“Thank you for that,” she said. “And thank you for bringing me here.”
He brushed his lips across her hair. “You’re welcome,” he said; then he pulled her close. And as they hung there, suspended in the warm water, their legs rubbing as he slowly treaded water, he realized that he couldn’t live the lie she wanted.
He loved this woman. Dammit all, he always would. Whether she wanted him to or not. He didn’t want to pretend to be her friend—not if it meant he could never be her lover again. He didn’t want to be a part-time daddy, and he didn’t want to work his way slowly back up the ladder into her good graces. He wanted his family back. He wanted Lane.
And one way or another, he was going to get her.