She was having his babyâ¦
Even in the darkness he could see that. He took her arm and looked her over. âAre you all right? Did they hurt you?â
She didnât answer. Instead she spat out, âThere are men out there with guns who want to kill me and I have no idea why!â
âIâm not going to let anyone hurt you, Lily.â
âWhy is it that things never change with you? Thereâs always danger.â
âWe donât have time for this now.â Taking her hand, he tugged her deeper into the dark hall. âWe have to get out of here.â
She resisted. Sheâd had enough of the lifestyle Chase craved. Her baby came first now, and it needed stability. Something sheâd never get from Chase, no matter how much she loved him. âIâm not going anywhere with you.â
Hearing noises down the corridor, Chase pulled her against him, his breath hot and moist on her neck. His hand slid around to splay across her belly, reminding Lily of their child.
âLike it or not,â he breathed, âIâm your best hope of making it through the night.â
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Linda Castillo knew at a very young age that she wanted to be a writer â and penned her first novel at the age of thirteen. She is the winner of numerous writing awards, including a Holt Medallion, a Golden Heart Award, a Daphne du Maurier and a nomination for the prestigious RITA® Award.
Linda loves writing edgy romantic suspense novels that push the envelope and that take her readers on a roller-coaster ride of breathtaking romance and thrilling suspense. She resides in Texas with her husband, four loveable dogs and a horse named George. For a complete list of her books, check out her website at www.lindacastillo. com. Contact her at [email protected]. Or write to her at PO Box 577, Bushland, Texas 79012, USA.
Chapter One
4:00 a.m., August 27 hours since the blackout began
It was going to be a long night.
Chase Vickers should have been accustomed to waiting. In his line of work he did enough of it. But heâd never developed much in the way of patience. He liked to move. More to the point, he liked speed. Lots of it. Tonight, however, parked in the looming shadow of Bostonâs Hancock Tower with the city in the midst of a blackout, he passed the minutes pacing as he waited for his passenger. Curbside, the sleek limo he drove part-timeâand affectionately called Irmaâpurred like a big black cat.
Around him, plunged into darkness, the usually unflappable city of Boston was in a state of panic. Even at this hour the tower bustled with city police, Secret Service personnel and the occasional frightened civilian dressed to the nines. From the look of things, something big had gone down inside.
Chase had received the call for a client pickup just before 9:00 p.m. He was supposed to drive a foreign dignitary from Hancock Tower to Logan Airport. A simple enough assignment under most circumstances, anyway. Until the blackout hit en route. Traffic had crashed to a halt, and for the next three hours heâd maneuvered the big limo through spaces more suited to a Volkswagen. Heâd dealt with an army of frightened motorists and angry cabbies, and dodged dozens of accidents caused by inoperative traffic lights.
Chase was comfortable in the dark and chaos. When he wasnât driving dignitaries and high- ranking government officials to various destinationsâ most requiring a driver with a high-security clearanceâhe spent his days on mercenary missions for Eclipse, a secret organization he and three other of his Special Forces buddies had formed years ago. For a price, the band of brothers took on assignments the CIA, FBI and other elite military forces couldnât get done. The kinds of covert operations that never made the newspapers.
Lately, those missions were the only time Chase felt truly alive.
He stood at the rear of the limo, taking in the chaos, wondering about its source. This was more than just a blackout situation. The arrival of additional Secret Service told him something significant had transpired. Was it related to the black-tie affair atop the tower? Heâd read about the event. Something to do with a trade agreementâ¦
Pulling out his cell phone, he was about to make some calls to see if he could get some answers when a chirp alerted him to an incoming text message. He hit Receive and watched the words scroll across the display.
Are you afraid of the dark?
The jagged scar above his left eye throbbed as the meaning of the words registered. Four years in the Special Forces and numerous missions for Eclipse had taught him to take every threat seriously, regardless of its source or how vague. The truth of the matter was, heâd made some enemies over the years. Heâd ticked off some very dangerous people who would probably like nothing more than to pay him back in spades.
Chase knew whom to call. As much as Chase didnât want to turn to his older brotherâhalf brother, he corrected with a sneerâShane Peters did seem to have his finger on the pulse. He punched in Shaneâs number from memory. Five rings and his call went to voice mail. Another oddityâhis half brother almost always answered his phone. What the hell was going on?