Rogue's Passion(20)

He couldn’t imagine how hard that must’ve been. The army was very good at tearing loved ones apart and destroying lives. “Where did they take him?”
She shrugged. “To a top-secret training facility, but we never heard where.”
“Wasn’t there anything your mother and father could do?”
“My father?” The small noise in her throat was either a stifled laugh or a choke. “There wasn’t anything he could do. They killed him the night my brother was taken.”
***
As soon as they got to the grey Mustang parked on Olive Street, they checked the news stations and heard that the HOT was going to be closed for a few days. Olivia wasn’t getting back to her apartment any time soon.
“Good.” Asher groaned as he carefully shifted his bruised body. “Guess that means you can drive me around to look for my dog.”
“I don’t mind healing you, Ash. Really. It’s no trouble.”
“No.” He’d seen how much it had taken out of her to help the woman from the club. He’d heal fine on his own.
For several hours, they drove down every street and into every neighborhood within a five-mile radius of the explosion and still didn’t find Conry. Asher was trying not to lose hope, but things weren’t looking good. He hadn’t wanted to consider it before, but maybe something had happened to Conry in the blast.
“We’re stopping?” He looked over at Olivia as she pulled the grey Mustang to the side of the road near the circular entrance to Volunteer Park.
She turned in the driver’s seat to face him. Was she planning to give him a reality check? Turning away, he braced himself to hear her say they should stop searching.
Of course she couldn’t know what that dog meant to him. Not only had Conry saved his life a few times on this side of the portal, but he was there for Asher on the other side when no one else was. No, he would not give up. Ever. That dog was his best friend and meant more to him than most people.
“Do you mind if I say a little prayer?” she asked softly.
His head snapped up. “A prayer?”
“I didn’t know if that would make you uncomfortable. That’s why I’m asking.”
He wasn’t a religious man, but it didn’t bother him. “Yeah, that’s fine.”
Folding her hands in her lap, she bowed her head. “Dear Saint Anthony, please come ’round. Conry’s been lost and can’t be found. He’s a very special dog, so please return him to us.” She opened her eyes.
Asher snorted. “That’s a prayer?”
She raised an eyebrow. “I know it had some rhyming issues, but I think my point was clear. Trust me.”
He liked how her mismatched eyes lit up when he teased her. “So who is this Saint Anthony?”
“He’s the patron saint of lost things,” she explained. “When you ask for his help, he’s supposed to find what’s lost. Or at least that’s what my Catholic mom always says. Can’t find your keys, your cell phone, your glasses? You ask him for help.” She reached behind her neck, unclasped a necklace he hadn’t noticed she’d been wearing and held it up. A small, round medallion swung from the thin gold chain. “This is my Saint Anthony pendant. I want you to have it till we find him.”#p#分页标题#e#
What if he didn’t find Conry right away? How would he get it back to her? “But—”
“No arguing,” she said, as if she had been expecting this. “I insist.” She leaned over the console and held it out. The pendant dangled from her hand like a hypnotist’s necklace, flashing in the light from a nearby streetlamp. He was struck by the fact that by accepting it, he was crossing an unseen threshold with her. No longer would she be a beautiful stranger who had briefly helped him. He would have something of hers that he’d need to return, thus ensuring they’d see each other again.
With his good hand, he reached for it, but she shook her head. “No, let me.”
“Okay.”
Her lips were parted and her breath fluttered over his jaw as she put the chain around his neck. It was all he could do to keep from kissing her, to cup the back of her head and pull her mouth to his. He held back. There was a vulnerability about her that made him want to protect her. But the last time he’d brought a woman into his life for more than just a quick roll in the sack, it had ended in disaster. He’d vowed never to let it happen again.
“Sorry,” she said. “This lobster clasp is really small.”
“No problem,” he said as he stared at the tiny pulse at the base of her throat. “Where did you get it?”