Chapter Four

There was something not quite right about his little FBI agent.

Quinn pulled out her ID and studied the picture. The prominent cheekbones, balanced by that wide mouth. The photo didn’t show it, but she’d had dark red freckles sprinkled across the bridge of her small straight nose. He’d had to fight the urge to smooth over them with his thumb.

The ID looked legitimate, but they’d get Stefan to hack into the FBI database and check her out. Stefan was their tech wizard. He’d find out if she really worked for the FBI, but Quinn was guessing yes. He’d spent a lot of time working with agents from various government agencies. He could recognize the style and the attitude, and he’d swear she was official.

So why the hell couldn’t he get inside her head? It was like hitting a brick wall.

Was she blocking him on purpose, or was it just the way she was made?

As he entered the sitting room, Quinn pushed the worry aside and some of the tension left him. They’d succeeded. Martin was free.

Martin had vanished four years ago. They’d received a message from him at the time—he’d be travelling and would be out of touch. That was something else they hadn’t questioned until they’d broken free of their government controllers a year ago. By that time, Martin had vanished without trace, and they’d started to believe he must be dead, along with the members of the original tribe that Martin’s great-great…grandfather had discovered in the Mountains of the Moon over a century ago.

Rose and Dave were both in the room, seated on the sofa, talking quietly together. There was a closeness between them that Quinn envied. As he entered, Rose looked up and got to her feet with a smile. She crossed the room and poured him a glass of scotch from the bottle on the sideboard and handed it to him.

“Thanks.”

He glanced over to where Dave lounged on the sofa. The guy was totally unfazed by the fact that Quinn could get in his head if he wanted to. So far, he hadn’t. They’d been trained, early on, not to enter the head of anyone who wasn’t a sanctioned target. Now it was just second nature. If needed, he would do it, but good manners dictated he stay out unless he had reason. He knew Rose had read Dave’s mind—and so had Jake. They both trusted him implicitly, so Quinn would do the same.

He took a sip of scotch. “Where’s Martin?”

“Gone for a shower. I gave him some of your clothes.”

“Good.”

“And I’ve contacted Jake. They’re going to call in half an hour. He sounded happy.”

“Jake’s always goddamned happy these days.”

Jake had recently married. And Quinn liked his new wife, Christa. Really, he did. But he couldn’t forget she was the colonel’s daughter. Colonel Harry Winters was their old government controller, and Quinn held him directly responsible for Shanna’s death. The bastard might claim he was following orders, but that didn’t change things. Quinn wasn’t ready to forgive the man yet, even if he was his best friend’s father-in-law.

And also, maybe he was just the teeniest bit jealous. He’d always believed he and the rest of the Tribe would never be able to have anything approaching a normal relationship. He liked women—he’d had a whole load of one-night stands to prove it. But he’d never been with the same woman twice. Before they’d broken away, it just hadn’t been feasible. There were too many secrets. And afterward, they’d been on the run. Still, Jake had somehow found the time and the right woman to fall in love. Though Christa was hardly normal.

For Quinn, there hadn’t been anyone for a while. He’d lost the taste for one-night stands—or maybe he yearned for something more. He sipped his scotch as his mind drifted to the woman in the basement…and the instant attraction that had struck him at first sight, just as she had physically struck him moments later. She wasn’t his usual type. He liked his women a little more obvious. Blondes with long legs and soft breasts… His FBI agent was all lean muscle, though she had seemed to be soft in all the right places. He couldn’t help noticing as he’d carried her out of there.

“What are you smiling at?” Rose asked.

“Nothing.”

“Ah. You’ve got the hots for that FBI agent. Don’t lie. I’ve seen that look on your face before, lover boy.”

That had been what the girls had called him when he’d been younger. Thankfully, he’d grown out of the name and the reputation.

“She’s a hostage. We need to question her. That’s all.”

“Tell that to yourself, lover boy.”

“Actually, it’s true. We need to find out why we can’t get into her head.”

“You can’t get in her head?” Dave looked between the two of them. “Neither of you? Has that ever happened before?”

“Not that I know of,” Rose said.

At that moment, Martin appeared in the open doorway. He was dressed in a pair of Quinn’s jeans and a gray T-shirt that hung off his bony frame. His hair was damp, but he looked a little better.

“Are you hungry?” Quinn asked.

“I’m not sure. Still in shock, I think.”

Quinn nodded, but disappeared into the kitchen and opened the fridge. He’d rented this place when he’d first followed the lead that led him to Boston. It was a big old house, set in its own grounds, with a wall running around the perimeter—rare for a house in the center of the city. It was expensive, but money was no object. Their bank accounts were full, thanks to the fact that a few of their members had an affinity for poker.

He put bread, cheese, cold meats, and some fruit on a tray and carried it through to the other room.

“Thank you,” Martin said. “Now tell me what’s been happening.”

Quinn took back his seat on the sofa and thought about where to begin. What had started all this. “Sam’s dead.”

Pain flashed across Martin’s face. He’d been fond of both Kaitlin and her twin, Sam, the youngest members of their small group. Of course, things had started to go wrong before that, probably around the time of the death of Quinn’s own sister. Shanna had been the first to die. They reckoned that was when the Conclave had gotten involved.

“Tell me everything.”

“You know that control of the group was taken over by an organization called the Conclave?”

“Yes,” Martin said. “The colonel recruited me. I never believed, but I thought I’d at least be in the loop, able to protect you a little. I was wrong. As soon as it became clear that I wasn’t in agreement with some of their more radical policies, I was locked away, allowed no contact with the outside.”

“What happened to the original tribe?” Rose asked. “We couldn’t find any trace of them.”

“Luckily, I moved them not long before I was taken. I had an idea that they wouldn’t be safe. That they’d be used. These people were clearly ruthless.”

“Do you know where they are?”

“No, we thought it best. But I set up a way to get messages through. When I’m sure it’s safe, I’ll reach out to them. Go on…where’s Jake?”

“He’s in Uganda.”

Shock flared on the other man’s face. “What?”

“It appears that when the original tribe moved to Scotland, not all of them went. Four were left behind—including a four-year-old boy, Kane Revilla. They’ve been there ever since. Jake has been working with them.”

“But why? Why did they stay behind?”

Quinn hesitated. Kane had told them they’d remained in Uganda to protect a secret his people had been safeguarding for thousands of years. A secret that would help in some mission that was to take place in 2020, the details of which had been lost to history, but which would be made clear when the time was right.

And supposedly—though no one had any real proof—the thing they were guarding was a goddamn time machine. How cool was that? Quinn almost hoped it was true, even if it was totally fucked up.

But it wasn’t his secret to tell.

He was saved from answering. Across the room, the computer beeped, and the screen lit up. Quinn got up, picked up the laptop, and took it to the table where Martin sat. He hadn’t eaten much food but was sipping on a glass of scotch and looked relaxed, if tired. Quinn sat down, putting the laptop between them, as Rose came up to stand behind him. Dave remained where he was. Quinn had the idea that however close Dave felt to Rose, he believed he didn’t belong. They were a hard group to break into—the mental bonds gave them a closeness difficult to penetrate.

A second later, Jake’s face appeared on the screen, along with Kane’s.

Jake was grinning. “Martin. It’s good to see you.”

“Thank you. I thought I was in there for good.”

“I’m sorry we couldn’t get you out sooner.” He gestured to the man at his side. “This is Kane Revilla, one of the original tribe.”

“Where are the others?” Kane asked. “Are they alive?” Trust him to get straight down to business.

“I think so,” Martin replied. “But I don’t know where they are. We thought it safer that way.”

“Can you contact them?”

“Yes. But it might take time.”

Jake thought for a moment. “I think you should come back here, so we can discuss our next move. Can you contact them from here?”

“As long as you have internet access. We set up a series of codes to be placed on various websites. They all have to be triggered in a certain order or the tribe will presume it’s a trap.”

“Okay. We’ll organize a plane. You can be here tomorrow night.”

“What about the rest of us?” Rose asked.

“I think you should come as well. We can regroup and decide what to do after we locate Martin’s people.”

Quinn thought about his FBI agent cooling her heels in the cellar. They could hardly just leave her there. And he somehow didn’t think that taking her with them to Kane’s super-secret little hideaway was going to be an option.

“We have a… complication,” he said.

Behind him Rose snorted.

“What sort of complication?” Jake asked.

“When we got to Martin, he was being interviewed by an FBI agent.”

“And that was a complication? Why didn’t you just knock her out?”

“Because I couldn’t get into her head,” Rose replied. “It was like hitting a brick wall. Quinn couldn’t get in, either.”

“Reflector device?”

“Nope. Not anything we could see, anyway.”

“Have you ever come across anyone like that before?” Quinn directed the question at Kane.

He shook his head. “Never. I don’t like it.”

“And there’s something else,” Quinn said. “When we were driving away from the place, she said we were being followed. She was blindfolded in the back of a van. How could she know? But she seemed genuine. There was no reason to lie.”

“All the more reason to get the hell out of there,” Jake said. “If they found you once, they could do it again.”

“We’ll leave first thing in the morning,” Rose said. “I’ll keep watch tonight, and we’ll move if I sense anything at all.”

“Okay, just be careful.”

Jake had taken the loss of their people hard, especially Sam. He’d vowed they wouldn’t lose anyone else.

“What should we do about the agent?” Quinn asked. There was no way they could take her along, but he felt a flicker of…loss, unease…he wasn’t sure what, at the thought of leaving her. They would probably have to drop her off somewhere on their way to the airport tomorrow. If she was blindfolded, she wouldn’t know where she was, she wouldn’t know where they were going. Or they could leave her where she was and contact her people once they were well away. The place had been rented through a series of aliases. There was no way to track it to him.

“I think you should eliminate her,” Kane said.

“What?” Quinn’s hands fisted at his side. “You want me to kill a government agent?”

“Kane likes killing people,” Rose said. “It’s his go-to answer for just about everything.”

Kane’s face was blank of expression, but a tic jumped in his cheek. “She’s a risk. And she obviously knows more about us than is safe. How did she find the link to Rayleigh?”

“I don’t give a fuck,” Quinn said. “We’re not killing her.”

“I—”

“Quinn is right,” Jake interrupted. “We don’t kill people—not unless we have no choice.” He sighed and ran a hand through his already messy hair. “Your best bet is to leave her somewhere, but make sure she won’t be found until you’re all well away.”

“Interrogate her,” Kane said. “Find out what she knows. Where she got her information.”

“What? You want me to torture her?” Quinn shook his head. There was no point in letting the man rile him. “I’ll talk to her, see if she’ll tell us anything.” And that would be so much easier if he could get inside her head.

“There’s one more thing,” Jake said. “Have you heard from Kaitlin?”

“No. Should I have?”

“She’s in the States somewhere. I suggested she drop in and see you.”

Kaitlin was the youngest member of their group—only eighteen—and the strongest. She was able to steal secrets out of the most convoluted minds. She’d been used for interrogations from the time she’d turned sixteen, but she’d managed not to become bitter. When they’d escaped their government controllers, after the death of her brother, she’d gone back to work with the oversight committee who had been investigating them at the time, unwilling to give up her dream of a world with no more lies. She’d ended up imprisoned by the Conclave for six months. When she’d been freed, she’d gone off on her own, saying she needed space, and Jake had let her go, knowing it was the only way that she would ultimately come back to them. They all loved Kaitlin.

“You should have ordered her back here,” Kane said.

“I can’t order her anywhere. She’ll come when she’s ready. She has your number, Quinn. But if she contacts us again, I’ll let her know that you’re not going to be there. She can go visit the others in Vegas.”

“God forbid.”

He didn’t like to contemplate what kind of trouble Kaitlin could get up to in Vegas.

Jake grinned again. “Yeah. Anyway, great job. It’s good to see you, Martin. We’ll talk when you get in tomorrow night.”

Then the screen went blank.

Quinn turned to study the other man. Martin looked exhausted, as though all the strength had drained out of him. His shoulders were hunched, his head drooping. But as though he sensed Quinn’s regard, he looked up. His eyes were clear, and he seemed at peace.

“Thank you.”

“My pleasure. Maybe we’ll leave the catching up until tomorrow. You should get some sleep. We’ll leave early in the morning.” They’d have an eight-hour plane ride to talk.

“I’ll show you to your room,” Rose said.

“And I’m going to go for a walk outside,” Dave added. “Take a look around.”

Quinn sat back in his seat and ran a hand through his hair. It looked like he was going to Uganda after all. Going to see Kane’s time machine. Maybe that would put his doubts to rest, though he thought it unlikely.

What if the time machine was for real? What did it mean? It didn’t actually cast any light on Kane’s murky mission. It was all very well for Kane to state that all would be revealed when the time was right, but Quinn had never been one to go on faith. He liked cold hard facts.

“You know,” Rose said from the doorway. “Considering everything went down really well—Martin is out, and no one was hurt—you don’t look particularly happy.”

He rose to his feet and stretched, rolling his shoulders to ease out the kinks. He was too tense. “I’m happy.”

“Of course, you are.”

“Okay, I will be. Right now, I’m going to talk to our guest downstairs.”

“Well, don’t get too cozy. I remember what happened last time we kidnapped a woman.”

He grinned. “Yeah.” That had been Christa, and Jake had ended up marrying her. “But don’t worry. I’m not the marrying type.”

“I saw the way you looked at her. You liked her.”

“No, I didn’t.”

“You keep telling yourself that. I’m going to find Dave. I think it might be a good idea if you and I kept a look out tonight. Just in case there is anyone hunting us.”

“Okay. You do the first shift. Come and wake me at four.”

“Will do.”

He waited until the door closed behind her, then crossed the room, poured himself another scotch, and swallowed it in one go.

Time to find out what his FBI agent knew. Or at least, what she was willing to tell him.