She shook her head numbly. “Tellie Hawley still doesn’t know
anything?”
Adam shook his head. “They’ve been studying all the security
cameras all over the damned hospital, and they’ve spotted some
men who might be possibles. I told him that didn’t make sense.
Track down the little old ladies, track the folk on the cameras who
no one in their right mind would take for Krimakov.” He moved
away from the door and walked to the side of her bed. He leaned
over and lightly touched his fingers to her cheek. “I came to check
on you. I imagined you would be blaming yourself, and I was
right. Stop it, Becca, just stop it. It was a good plan, a solid plan.
Any fault for its failure comes right to my door, not yours.”
She turned her face into the palm of his hand. She whispered
against his skin, “He doesn’t seem human, does he?”
“Oh, he’s human enough. I want him very badly, Becca. I want
to kill him with my bare hands.”
“So does my father. I’ve never seen anyone so enraged, and yet
his voice remained calm and controlled. But it was so cold, so
deadly. I wanted to shriek and yell and put my fist through a wall,
but he didn’t.”
“Control is very important to your father. It’s saved his life on
several occasions and other people’s lives as well. He’s learned not
to let emotion cloud his thinking.” He cupped her face in his hand.
“I haven’t learned it yet, but I’m trying. A terrible thing happened,
Becca, but please believe me, it wasn’t your fault. We’ll catch him.
We have to catch him. We’ve both got to get some sleep.” He kissed
her mouth, then immediately straightened. It was hard because he
wanted to kiss her again, and not stop. He wanted to ease her back
down and pull up that virginal nightgown of hers and get his
mouth on every bit of her he could get naked. He wanted to make
both of them forget the horror, for just a little while. But he knew
he couldn’t. He took a step away from the bed. “Good night,
Becca. Try to get some sleep, all right?”
She nodded mutely. The pain in her eyes, the god-awful guilt
that was still burrowed deep inside her–he just couldn’t stand it.
He kissed her again, hard and fast, and before he lost his head, he
was out of her bedroom in a flash.
In the hallway, he was frowning, wondering how the hell to do
that when he was supposed to protect her, rage at Krimakov roiling
away in his belly, when he walked straight into Thomas, who
was just standing there, watching him, a thick dark brow arched.
Adam came to a dead stop. “Dammit, I didn’t touch her.”
“No, of course not. I never thought you did. You were in there
to ease her guilt, weren’t you?”
“Yes, but I doubt I was successful.”
“There’s enough guilt for all of us to wallow in,” Thomas said.
“I’m going downstairs for a while. I’ve got some more thinking to
do.”
“There isn’t any more thinking to do, there’s just worrying and
second-guessing, all sorts of worthless shit like that. Wait a second
–it just occurred to me that he’s got to be pissed, rattled. After
all, he was expecting to find both you and Becca in that hospital
room, but you weren’t there. He has to doubt himself now, his
judgment, his take on things. He’s been meticulous up until now,
but this time he wasn’t able to be thorough enough. He screwed up
big-time. He was wrong. I don’t know what he’s going to do next,
but whatever it is, he might make another mistake. He’s also got to
contend with the fallout of his cold-blooded murder of four federal
agents. They’ll mount the biggest manhunt in a decade. He
can’t believe he’s so good he can just walk away from this, that he’s
somehow immune from capture. We’re not alone in this anymore.
Everyone and his aunt knows about him and what he is.”
“I know that, Adam.” Thomas shoved his long fingers through his