Midnight Fever (Men of Midnight #5)(40)

Wondering if she was next.

Kay slowly took off her clothes. They smelled used, unclean. She wondered if evil had a stench and if this was it. Whatever had reached out to smash Mike was definitely evil.

She was so glad to have a change of clothes because she knew she could never put this outfit back on. Maybe she'd burn it. The pantsuit was pretty-a light turquoise that the saleslady said brought out the color of her eyes. She'd enjoyed buying it and she'd liked wearing it, and now it had an association that hurt her heart.

Kay had other clothes in the suitcase that was now with the police, but she was happy with the casual yoga outfit that evoked no memories. She'd thought when she'd crept out of the hotel room this morning-was it only this morning? God! It felt like days, weeks had gone by-that her life was changing forever in one direction. Well, it had changed profoundly and forever, only in an entirely different direction.

Though Mike hadn't given specifics while they were arranging the meet-up, she knew that she'd be going underground, at least for a time. Some whistleblowers stayed underground all their lives, and she'd been prepared for that.

Mike had warned her not to pack a suitcase so large it would raise suspicions. Just what she'd normally pack for a four-day conference in another city. That had made it almost easier. No special mementos, no family heirlooms. Just outfits for four business days plus casual travel wear. Her one indulgence had been a small hard drive with all her family photos scanned and stored. That was it, what she'd be carrying into an unimaginable future.



       
         
       
        

This morning, she thought that she'd be spending the night in some kind of safe house Mike and his magazine would have arranged. No idea where.

Instead, here she was in some kind of deluxe hideout with every comfort known to man, built to survive the end of the world.

This was to be her place for the next little while, with Nick.

But first, oh man, first she needed to wash all of this off her.

Kay winced as she shrugged off her jacket. What had been a dull ache down her right side turned into sharp pain when she lifted her arms. Her entire body hurt but the pain was most focused on her right arm and shoulder.

Kay flashed again on that horrible moment this morning. The drone with its soft buzz, so alien-looking, swooping down on them. So far from anything she could recognize that for a frightening moment, she'd thought it was a huge mutant insect. It was coming so fast her lizard brain knew it would crash into them. Mike, pushing her out of the way so hard she bounced off the wall. She hadn't even felt the pain at the time, she'd been so terrified.

It had all been in the slow motion of adrenaline overload-the hormone speeding up the frames the eye saw so that it felt as if it were happening slowly. That big black … thing swooping down, the light of recognition in Mike's eyes, his body swiveling to push her away hard. Falling against the concrete wall, bouncing off it with her shoulder.

Her body felt every ache and pain, but there was no serious damage. She'd dislocated her shoulder once as a kid so she knew what something like that felt like. That wasn't this. It was painful but without the deep hurt of serious bodily harm.

Still, taking off her pants hurt, bending down to slip off her flats, take off her socks-pure pain. Thank God her bra had a front clasp.

She stepped into the shower, face up to the huge showerhead, and closed her eyes, basking in the hot stream of water. Oh God, that felt so good. Turning slowly around, arms out, giving herself up to the moment.

The hot water and steam penetrated her muscles down to the bone. She emptied her mind of all thought, drifted up and away from her body like when she did her meditation practice. Time floated, carrying her on waves. She bent her head forward now, to feel the heavy stream at the base of her neck and the tops of her shoulders.

Without thinking, she reached for the shampoo, groaning as her hand grabbed the bottle. Pain shot through her, a lightning bolt from hell. Her right arm was useless; she'd have to do this one-handed with her off hand. Even opening the bottle was hard. In trying to unscrew the cap, it fell to the tile floor.

"Here," a deep voice said in her ear, "let me help."

Nick stepped forward against her back, taking the shampoo bottle from her hand. His hard, naked body against her increased the heat. A cold dribble on the top of her head from the shampoo, then the feel of his strong hands washing her hair. Her head fell back against his shoulder as he massaged her scalp. Amazing. Those strong fingers were scrubbing the day away. 

He angled her under the showerhead, rinsed her hair and poured more shampoo on. This time the massage was long, so long she drifted in space for a little, feeling but not thinking, her body utterly happy from the top of her head down to the bottom of her feet.