Shadow Woman Read online

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  They stopped to gas up the Harley, and while Xavier stayed outside to pump the gas, Lizzy went inside to prepay and also to use the bathroom. The pump was activated, and he began filling the tank. The task was fairly mindless, so he began thinking about the situation they were heading into, whether or not they’d be facing both Al and Felice or just Felice. He’d worked with Al a long time, respected him, but if he was involved, Xavier would take him out without hesitation. He needed to start formulating a plan, so he wouldn’t be caught unprepared no matter what happened.

  No one had called his cell phone, but then they wouldn’t, even though it was secure, bouncing off satellites, through encryption programs, and with every other safeguard he’d been able to access. If any of his people needed to get a message to him, they’d leave it on the number in the secure room of J.P.’s condo. Good old J.P.; she’d come in handy over the years. When he’d checked his messages the day before, there had been nothing, which was reassuring in a way but also worrisome. The situation in D.C. hadn’t been static while he’d been chasing Lizzy down. Something was happening, but evidently nothing with his people, so none of their identities had been discovered yet.

  He got out his phone and dialed the number, then input the code that let him access his messages. A robotic voice informed him that he had one new message.

  His head lifted slightly, like a wolf’s scenting the wind, when he heard Al’s voice.

  “There’s a specialist waiting for you at our mutual friend’s house. She expects you to come calling.”

  Xavier deleted the message, then cut off the pump.

  The immediate message was simple: Felice had hired an assassin to watch her house and ambush him, because she knew he’d be coming for her. That part was easy. He really wouldn’t have expected anything else, but knowing for certain gave him an edge.

  The part that got tricky was whether or not Al had called him to make him think Al was on his side and not Felice’s. Giving up the specialist was nothing; Al would do that without a qualm if it would buy him an extra second, a moment of hesitation or distraction, in which he could take care of Xavier himself.

  The coming night was going to be interesting.

  Chapter Twenty-eight

  If she’d been heading back into D.C. on her own, Lizzy would have been terrified, but because Xavier was with her everything was different. She was different from the woman she’d been last week—hell, from the one she’d been the day before. She knew things about herself now, things that horrified her, but she was already beginning to feel as if there was a distance widening between what she knew and who she was. It had been a mere six and a half days, almost to the minute, since she’d awakened and seen a stranger in the mirror, and in those six and a half days she’d become someone who, instead of continuing to run away, was now racing back into danger.

  Most specifically, Xavier was racing toward danger—danger, and, if he was right, a possible end to running, for both of them.

  He’d told her about checking his messages while they were stopped for gas, but he hadn’t told her anything else. Whatever message he’d received had disturbed him. No, not disturbed—that was the wrong word. Preoccupied. He’d gotten a familiar and grim look in his eyes, and the set of his mouth had become even more determined. He was going to war, and he was planning his moves. She knew he wanted to end this for both of them; she understood that running was not an option, unless they were prepared to run forever.

  The blessed helmets they wore were the perfect disguise. Lizzy felt completely free as they roared down the interstate and into D.C. Even with all the cops, all the cameras, all the people looking for her, she and Xavier were virtually invisible. She liked that feeling. She wished it could last forever.

  Twilight was fading into true night when he wheeled the Harley into the parking lot of a garage. The concrete was cracked, with weeds growing through the cracks. They weren’t in the nicest part of town, but then … it was a garage, the kind where mechanics worked on mechanical stuff.

  Older trucks and cars filled the small parking lot. Xavier balanced the Harley on its kickstand near the door to a small office. They both stretched, arching their backs to relieve muscles cramped from the long ride, but left their helmets on as they went inside. No one was in the waiting room to greet them, but she’d noticed several cameras in the parking lot and another mounted in the corner.

  Xavier took his helmet off and placed it on the front counter. Urgently, Lizzy pointed at the camera. “It’s okay,” he said. “Closed circuit—for our use only.”

  Our use? That said a lot. She eased her own helmet off, shook her hair free, and set her helmet beside his.

  “This is where you’re going to stay,” he said.

  “What?” It wasn’t quite a screech, but … close. Damn it, she’d known he was going to pull something like this. That didn’t mean she’d give up without another argument, though.

  “There’s something I need to do, and I can do it only if I know you’re safe.”

  She’d been right about that “going to war” look. “No matter what it is, you’ll need backup.”

  “Not this time.” He took her arm and led her through a side door, into a windowless garage that smelled of oil and gas.

  Three men were there. One had greasy hands and stained overalls with the name “Rick” embroidered on the pocket; another was middle-aged, with a Marine-like haircut, who stood behind a waist-high table at the back of the room and was in the midst of taking a rifle apart and cleaning it. The third man was the poor guy she’d carjacked two days ago. She nodded in his direction. “Uh, sorry.”

  The other two laughed, though not long and not very hard. The victim just put a hand to his throat and kind of growled, “At least I got my car back.”

  On one wall a television had been mounted. It showed four camera views of the exterior and the office; their arrival had not been unexpected.

  Lizzy looked up at Xavier. “Maybe this isn’t such a good idea.” She not only didn’t know these men, but one of them had good reason to hold a grudge against her. Her lack-of-trust issue at the moment was perfectly reasonable, from her standpoint.

  “It’s the only idea.” He led her past the three men—who continued to work as if they hadn’t been interrupted—to another office in the back of the garage. Glass windows overlooked the work area, so it wasn’t private, but there was a coffee machine, a couple of swivel chairs, a desk and computer.

  “When are you leaving?” she asked, leaning against the desk and crossing her arms over her midsection.

  “Not for a couple of hours.”

  She looked through the office window; she could see all three men from here. “And you trust these guys?”

  “Completely. I wouldn’t even consider leaving you here if I didn’t. They’ve been helping me look out for you for the past three years. They’re good at what they do.”

  Lizzy lifted her chin slightly, straightened her spine, and faced her biggest fear. “What if you don’t come back?” She couldn’t lose Xavier, find him, and then lose him again. It would be incredibly unfair, incredibly painful. After all this, she wasn’t certain she’d even want to go on.

  Of course, odds were without him she didn’t stand much of a chance anyway.

  “We’ll get something to eat, you can get acquainted with them, and by the time I leave you’ll be more comfortable—”

  “Wait a minute. Stop trying to distract me, okay? You said you didn’t need backup, but you were just talking about me, right? You’re taking one of them with you, at least. Aren’t you?” Surely he wasn’t going to face the people who were trying to kill her—them—alone.

  “No. I need to do this on my own.”

  Exasperated, infuriated, Lizzy threw her hands in the air as she paced around the small office. “What good does it do to have people who can help if you won’t use them? Why go up against those people alone when it’s not necessary?”

  Xavi