Protecting Medusa Read online

  Aristotle remained at his desk after Elek left the room. He’d chosen well. Elek reminded him of himself at the same age--just uncertain enough to stay humble despite the trust placed in him, but determined to do the task they’d been chosen for by the Goddess.

  For the first time in several years, Aristotle felt more confident in the outcome of their current hunt.

  This Medusa would not escape them again.

  Chapter Six

  Philomena fidgeted in her seat as they neared Philadelphia. After so long in the cabin, she’d been more than ready to get out, even if it meant Ryder did some work.

  She touched the dagger hilt beneath her skirt, almost absently, as she watched the other cars on the highway. They’d missed rush hour, but residual heavy traffic on the expressway heading into the city slowed them down.

  She tapped her fingers on the armrest.

  “Mena.”

  When she glanced over, she found Ryder wearing a lopsided grin. “What?”

  “We’re nearly there.”

  She stopped tapping.

  “Give me your hand.” He held his out.

  She shifted her gaze from his palm to his face, trying to read his expression. Finally, sighing, she lifted her hand to his. “Talk to me.”

  Warm fingers curled around hers, and he set their joined hands on his hard thigh. “What do you want to know?”

  Philomena swallowed. “Tell me about your family.”

  “Ugly story. Mom eventually hated the idea of staying a military housewife, so she bailed when I was eight, then died of a particularly nasty cancer when I was eleven. By then, Dad was out of the service, so he drank himself stupid every night. I’m sure he felt guilty for not being there when she needed him, and then it was too late.”

  She’d wanted a distraction, but this wasn’t exactly what she’d imagined. She tightened her fingers on his reflexively.

  He shot her a half-smile. “I started doing odd jobs a couple years later so I had food to eat and clothes to wear. When Dad lost his job because he went in drunk one day, he found my stash of money and drank it all. I had to keep finding new places to hide it. When I hit high school, I had a teacher who helped me open a bank account so Dad couldn’t drink my money away anymore.”

  “I’m sorry, Ryder,” she murmured, horror and pity tightening her chest.

  “Don’t be. That very messy upbringing sent me into the military, gave me the order I needed to function.” He squeezed her hand. “I never wanted a family, though.”

  She blinked, thinking of her first call to him about Jason. “Then why--”

  He grinned at her across the small space in the cab of the truck, warming her from head to toe. “How could I not, after you demanded I take responsibility? Just because I never intended to have a family didn’t mean I would relegate a child of mine to an even worse life than I had. Clearly Desi had no intention of parenting, and I had no idea what to expect from you.”

  Philomena blushed, recalling that first phone call. “You must have thought I was insane.”

  He lifted her hand to brush his lips along the back of her fingers. “I thought you were right. I should be responsible for my child. Every man should take responsibility for his child.”

  She shut her eyes, wishing she’d kept her mouth shut. Her own father hadn’t felt that way.

  He rubbed his thumb along the side of hers, making warmth slide up her arm, distracting her. “What do you want to do first?”

  She dragged her mind away from his warm fingers and what they did to her, and back to their trip. “Lunch.”

  He nodded. “Then what? Sightsee?”

  She considered for a moment. “I’ve never seen the Liberty Bell,” she said at last.

  “Okay. We’ll go there after lunch.” He squeezed her fingers. “Anything else?”

  “Then the office.”

  He frowned, as if he’d expected something different, but nodded. “All right.”

  She wouldn’t admit it to him, but she was curious about his work space. What kind of place would it be? Utilitarian? With three men running it, it might just be a rented room with a couple of desks. But she was curious. And seeing it would help her to figure out the best website design for them.

  Might even give her a few more clues to the man himself. Aside from the terrific dad, the sexy bad boy, the bossy ex-military man who still thought he was the commander.

  She relaxed over lunch. He took her to a little hole in the wall place downtown with the best pizza she’d ever eaten. They lingered over the gooey cheese and greasy pepperoni for nearly forty-five minutes. Then they walked the few blocks to the Liberty Bell. Because of the enduring cold weather, there weren’t many tourists, so they strolled slowly through the building, checking out each of the exhibits. They sat through a movie, too, before they finally got to the bell, which she decided was both more and less impressive than she’d expected, and far smaller than she’d thought it would be.

  When he suggested walking up the hill, she opted to skip the Constitution Center, so he swung their joined hands between them as they strode back toward the restaurant and truck. About two blocks from there, he steered her into a sleek, modern-looking building.

  The office.

  Her attention piqued, Philomena studied their surroundings. A security desk dominated the main lobby, with a burly, uniformed young man behind the desk. He nodded at Ryder when they passed by.

  He whisked her into a shiny, silent elevator, and they rode to the third floor. The door opened onto a bright lobby where a grey-suited young woman with sleek blond hair sat behind a curved desk.

  “Good afternoon, Mr. Ware,” she said, looking up from whatever she was doing on a computer. “I didn’t realize you were stopping in today.”

  He stopped at the desk. “I brought Ms. Gregory in to see the office. She’ll be designing our website. Mena, this is Carys.” He failed to mention that Philomena hadn’t yet agreed to do the website. Arrogance, or confidence? she wondered.

  The young woman stood and offered her right hand. Philomena shook it, then realized Carys had noticed Ryder was holding Philomena’s other hand. She blushed as the young woman’s lips quirked.

  “I’ve been nagging these guys for months about getting a website up and running. I’m glad to see you’ve been more successful than I have.” Carys turned her attention to Ryder. “And Ken’s in his office, in case you wanted to talk to him.”

  Ryder nodded and turned, pulling Philomena along. “Thanks, Carys.”

  She strode along at his side, willing the heat to fade from her cheeks. “She thinks we’re dating.”

  He lifted one eyebrow.

  She raised their joined hands.

  His other eyebrow winged up. “Baby, in case you hadn’t noticed, we’re way beyond dating,” he said in a low, sexy rumble that made her pulse race faster.

  She bit her lip, wanting to point out their relationship wasn’t permanent, something most dating couples usually considered a future goal. But she didn’t speak. Not here.

  Ryder stepped in her path to stop her. “Mena, I don’t care if the whole world knows we’re together.” He dipped down to catch her gaze. “If it weren’t for our pesky Harvester problem, I would rent a billboard and tell all of Philadelphia.”

  She frowned at him, a flutter of nervousness in her middle. “Why would you do that?”

  Something flickered in his dark eyes, gone so quickly she couldn’t decipher it. “Because I somehow think small gestures might not be enough to convince you.”

  Her mouth dropped open. “Convince me of what?” she managed, though her mouth had gone dry and a little voice in her head shrieked ‘don’t ask!’.

  Ryder swallowed, his gaze sliding over her face. “This isn’t the time or place for this discussion,” he said at last. “Come on.” He turned and towed her along the hall.

  Philomena’s stomach churned. He was serious. The conversation over dinner their first night away... Dear Gods, what was she supp
osed to do with that?

  She tried to refocus her attention when he stopped in an open doorway midway along the hall.

  “Mena, this is Ken Robards. He does some surveillance work for us. Ken, this is Mena.”

  She shook the tall man’s hand when he came out to greet them. “Nice to meet you.” Work mode. Think about the website.

  Ken’s gaze slid from her to Ryder. “Keep this guy on his toes, all right?” he said at last.

  She blinked.

  He winked at her, and she blushed, averting her gaze. “So, boss man, I didn’t know you were in town today.”

  The two men chatted for a few minutes about work. She looked around, trying not to pay too much attention to their conversation, in case there was anything she shouldn’t hear. The office was bright, as the lobby had been, with a nice, functional space, the desk perpendicular to the window, a low bookcase and filing cabinet behind it, and a pair of comfortable-looking chairs in front of it. No artwork hung on the walls, but with nearly an entire wall of windows overlooking the city, there was no need.

  Ken wore a shirt and tie, his sleeves rolled nearly to his elbows, a dark blazer draped across the back of his chair. Like Ryder, he was a big man, tall and broad, his curly black hair close-cropped, though Ken wore a wide gold wedding band on his left hand.

  She turned to study the hallway, where there were a few frames hanging on the walls, prints of local sites, it appeared.

  Her overall impression so far was of a friendly office, with a competent staff.

  And secure, judging by the small cameras at either end of the hallway, another in the middle, all sweeping back and forth silently. She looked around Ken’s office and found another at the ceiling on the window side of the room, so it could catch everything in its arc.

  She imagined every office was arranged similarly. She didn’t know how to work the notion into a web design yet, or even if she would, but she’d figure it out. Something about keeping watch, maybe.

  Her brain was so busy considering possibilities, that when Ryder gave her fingers a squeeze, she jumped.

  “I said, are you ready to see the rest?” he said, giving her a grin that let her know he was aware of her wandering attention.

  She nodded. “Just thinking about the website.”

  “I know, smart girl,” he murmured as they walked away from Ken’s office, “I could see the wheels turning.” He shifted nearer so their arms brushed.

  Philomena focused on her surroundings to distract herself from the warmth of his hand on hers, but it was a difficult task, especially when he stepped into a large, dark office at the end of the hallway, pulling her inside as he flipped on the lights. He nudged the door with his foot so it closed soundlessly behind them.

  “My office.” He swept out his free arm and gave a half-bow.

  She shook her head and pulled away. “The corner office, of course,” she teased, moving to the windows with blinds between the panes, only halfway down, to study the bustling street below.

  He stepped up behind her. “Of course.” His hands settled on her shoulders. “What do you think?”

  “Nice place.” She swallowed when he massaged her shoulders a little through her coat.

  “And you’ll notice my office doesn’t have one of those security cameras.” His warm breath brushed her ear.

  “Don’t even think about it,” she said, turning to face him, as warmth rose in her cheeks.

  He laughed. “Can’t blame a guy for trying, can you?”

  “Has anyone ever told you you’re insatiable?” she asked when he wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her loosely against him.

  His smile faded. “I never have been before.” One of his hands stroked up the middle of her back.

  Philomena’s heart beat faster. How on earth could she possibly respond?

  He studied her face for a long moment, making her pulse quicken even more. “Why don’t you look around?” He released her and went to sit in the big chair behind the glossy wooden desk, picking up a small remote and adjusting the blinds so they slid up further.

  She watched him, her fingers curling into her palms to keep from reaching out for him. Ryder was temporary. She couldn’t have permanent. Clearing her throat, she forced her gaze away from him, sliding it around the room. His office had a second door, and she moved toward it.

  It opened into an office almost exactly the same as Ryder’s though not on a corner.

  “That’s Danny’s. The door on the other side of his opens into Joel’s office, and his is another corner room,” Ryder said from behind her.

  She nodded, closing the door. “Why doesn’t Danny have a corner office?”

  He grinned when she turned around. “He’s afraid of heights. Getting him to take any of the outside wall offices was a real battle.”

  She smiled reluctantly. “Why not let him have an office without windows?”

  “He’s a partner, he’s got to have a big office.”

  She shook her head. “Men are so dumb sometimes,” she muttered, sliding her fingers over an empty shelf on the bookcase in his corner.

  “I heard that.”

  She didn’t reply, her mind turning possibilities. She sat in a chair facing his desk and crossed one leg over the other. “Nice place.”

  He folded his forearms on the edge of the desk. “Are you coming up with ideas?”

  She nodded. “Yes. I’ll have to think about it for a while, though. And you’ll have to let me know what kind of style you prefer, what sort of info you want on the site.”

  Ryder’s dark eyes studied her for a few moments. “Okay. Have you seen enough?”

  “Yes.” She pushed to her feet, pausing when all the fine hairs at her nape stood on end.

  Someone was out there watching her.

  She shifted her gaze to the two walls of windows, her heart beating up into her throat.

  “What’s wrong?”

  She shook her head. “I’m probably being stupid, but I feel like someone’s watching.” A dangerous someone. There were far too many windows.

  Ryder rose in a flash, his sharpened gaze shifting from one nearby building to another. “I don’t see anyone.”

  Neither did she. But that didn’t mean there wasn’t a Harvester out there watching her. Waiting.

  He grabbed the remote from his desk and closed the blinds completely. “Let’s go.” He moved around the desk, taking her arm to steer her from the office.

  Philomena’s breath wanted to come faster, and she had to force herself to inhale slowly, evenly, then release the air. Repeat.

  Downstairs, they paused at the security desk just long enough for Ryder to murmur something to the guard, and then they hit the sidewalk, walking quickly.

  “If I tell you to run, can you find your way back to the truck?” he asked, his gaze darting around.

  She tried to think. “Maybe.” Gods, how could they have found her?

  He pressed a key into her hand. “Good. If I tell you to run, you go. Get to the cabin and I’ll meet you there.”

  “What about you?” She felt an irrational urge to run now. To get as far away from here as possible.

  “I’ll get there. But if I have to stay behind to deal with anything, I don’t want you to wait around.” His fingers tightened on her arm. “Your first priority is to get to safety.”

  She swallowed as she nodded. Fear tried to squeeze her lungs tight.

  They were within sight of the truck when he swore under his breath. “We need to move, baby.” He started to run, and she quickened her own pace, her boots thumping faster on the sidewalk.

  From behind them, she heard people shouting. “Hey, watch where you’re going, buddy!” and “Yo, asshole, that was my foot!”

  A Harvester. And apparently, he didn’t care they were on the street in a very big city with an audience.

  Philomena sucked in a quick breath and ignored the stitch in her side, moving faster when Ryder did. He unlocked the truck with his remot
e and pushed her in through the driver’s door.

  “Get down.” He slid into his seat, almost on her heels, and started the truck.

  She wedged herself into the space between the seat and the dashboard, closing her eyes for a second. Gods, please don’t let me die.

  Ryder stomped on the gas pedal, whipping out into traffic to the sound of honking horns. He drove too quickly, and she saw his mouth tighten when he glanced in the rearview mirror. “Son of a bitch,” he muttered, pressing harder on the accelerator.

  Philomena closed her eyes again, chest aching. She so wanted to see Jason one more time.

  “It’s Ryder.”

  She opened her eyes and found him with his cell to his ear.

  “I need a rental car waiting when we get back...No, I don’t care what kind...Thanks.” He tossed the phone onto the seat.

  “How did he find me?”

  “Lucky timing for him, I think.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Kallan told me there are usually one or two Harvesters in the big cities along the east coast. I figured Philly is big enough we wouldn’t run into one or two people. My mistake.” His jaw tightened. “I’m sorry, baby. My fault.”

  “What are you, psychic?” She shook her head. “Just drive, Ryder. I don’t want to die today.”

  “I won’t let you.” He flashed her a cocky grin and whipped the truck around a sharp corner, tires squealing.

  Philomena put her head on her knees, hoping his assurance was justifiable.

  He sped around a few more turns, still muttering curses under his breath, then she felt the truck gain a lot more speed. Highway.

  She lifted her head far enough to see the close-set buildings dropping away as he merged onto the interstate. “How many red lights did you run?”

  “Just a couple.” Strain bracketed his eyes even though he smiled.

  She put her head back down. “If I die today, make sure Jason knows I love him.”

  “You’re not dying, Mena,” he snapped, “today or any other day for a long, long time.” Then he looked into the mirror. “Bastard.”