Fields of Thunder Read online

  “Not going to let this go?”

  “I’m a lawyer, I ask questions all the time. So no, not unless you tell me directly right now to drop it. Then I will let it go.”

  He stared at the woman in his home. The fact he normally hid that from view for company but hadn’t this time was a sign in his mind. Then there was the connection he felt with her. He reached past her and lifted the display. He had his flag hidden away with another set of his medals and ribbons.

  “This phrase here on this part means, The Guardians of Israel do not slumber or sleep and it’s the Mossad logo.”

  “You were Mossad? Or are?”

  “Were.”

  An understanding of sorts filtered into her expression. “What’s this one mean? This LOTAR?”

  “LOTAR is the abbreviation for LoHama BaTerror, which is counter terrorism. All elite units of the IDF—Israel Defense Forces—train here. It’s also the world’s leading instruction center for Middle East counter terrorism, guerilla warfare, special weapons and desert survival, as well as the hand-to-hand combat Krav Maga.”

  “And you worked there.”

  “Once I left Mossad, yes. For a while.”

  “Impressive.” She pushed up on her toes and kissed him lightly. “Thank you for sharing that with me.”

  That was it? Nothing more? Altair set the frame back and watched her. Her focus had landed on a statue he’d brought with him from Israel. Kind of an odd-shaped thing with a pudgy belly, one hand by his shoulder, palm up to the sky with the fingers slightly curved as if they were supposed to be securing something. On its back was a space for a circular thing to be placed. He wasn’t sure what—he didn’t have it. There was a semicircular slot at the base and whatever was to fit there, he also didn’t have. But it intrigued him, so he kept it.

  “This is unique,” she commented.

  He reached by her and lifted it. “My grandfather gave it to me. Said it would change my life.” He chuckled. “Not sure how, but I’ve always kept it with me.”

  “May I?” she asked.

  “Of course.” He held it out to her.

  Roz reached out her hand to take it and the moment she touched it, lightning shot out from it.

  “Shit!” she cried, leaping back.

  He tightened his hold on the statue so it wouldn’t fall but added a curse of his own. This wasn’t like those other times—now the bolts were large and brightly colored.

  “So you did see it this time, right?”

  She slashed her gaze to him. “This time? You mean you’ve seen this before?”

  “When I touched you. I thought it was a figment of my imagination. This is telling me it most definitely was not.”

  Her laughter was resigned. “Well, your grandfather was right about one thing.”

  “Which was?”

  “This will change your life.”

  Unease slithered up his spine. “How so?”

  “I think sex will have to wait because right now, I need to explain some things to you.” She walked to the couch and sat with a grunt.

  He took in her body language. More resignation, uncertainty and a bit of excitement. He joined her, placed the statue on the coffee table and put his focus on her.

  “What do you need to explain to me?”

  Chapter Four

  Roz wiped her hands down her skirt, suddenly nervous. The enormity of everything hit her at once. Not only had she found her artifact but she’d also found her mate—a man she had connected with on a purely physical level.

  The fact he has seen the bolts previously is something I will save for later to dwell on and try to figure out.

  She stared at the man on the handcrafted couch with her. Mossad. Instructor. Mossad. Israeli Defense Force. Mossad. Yes, she kept returning to that one fact. He watched her in return, giving away nothing in his expression. Nothing at all.

  His dark eyes remained on hers, his thick eyebrows adding a serious and slightly dangerous aura to his persona. She wasn’t afraid of him—not that she had ever been. But… Mossad.

  “Are you going to talk or is this a quiet exchange of information?”

  She took a deep breath. “I’m trying to figure out how to put this without sounding like I am a woman who needs to be put into a padded room with an I-love-myself jacket.”

  “Sure it is not because you now know I am prior Mossad?”

  She gave him a wry smile. “I will admit that has thrown me a bit but I am more than confident in my own abilities, Altair Sagal.”

  A grin cracked his stern visage. “I am confident in yours as well.”

  Heat flushed through her with the force of a raging river. Damn him for being so appealing to her on a sexual level. The focus now had to be to explain this situation, not getting her endless craving for him sated—or attempted to be sated.

  “What is wrong, little one?”

  Just hearing Lian’s voice in her head brought her the calmness she’d craved. “I believe I’ve just found my artifact. And the man who had it is my mate.”

  “Would this be the man that Tiarnán disapproves of?”

  “Yes.”

  “Bring the artifact as soon as you can. If you know then so will They and They will be after your young man. I look forward to meeting him.”

  “What the heck was that?”

  “Was what?”

  “The hazy smoke rising from your shoulders?”

  Crap, she’d forgotten that happened when they communicated. “All part of the explanation.”

  “For which I am still waiting.”

  “Yes, you are.” She pressed her lips together, took another breath, and clasped her hands upon her lap. “I don’t know the best way to say this other than just spitting it out.”

  He arched one of those eyebrows. “A lawyer at a loss for words?”

  “In this situation, I have shit.” She pinched the bridge of her nose and prayed that this would work. “Okay, in essence it boils down to this. That thing there, the statue, is an artifact that I have been searching for, for many years. I’m one of six Guardians who will be called upon to save the world from Them at some point when the battle commences. And since the bolts arrived when we both touched the statue it means that you are my mate. That’s the nutshell version.” She coughed. “Oh, and the shit around my shoulders you saw? Well, that happens when I communicate telepathically with my brethren or our teacher.”

  His expression was beyond skeptical. “And the entire version?” He sat toward her a bit. “Because I damn sure have questions.”

  “Ask them and I will answer each one.”

  “Let’s start with this. What is a Guardian? And how did you become one?”

  She reached for her glass of wine only to find it empty so she took his and drained it. Then she explained it to him.

  He rose to get the rest of the bottle before filling both their glasses. “What is the artifact for?”

  “I wish we knew. Each of us has one to find—and a mate. But more than knowing they are important in that they will, supposedly, wake the world’s hope, I haven’t a clue.”

  “How did you know it was the artifact for you? I saw those damn lightning strikes before, in your office.”

  Why she hadn’t seen them, she hadn’t any clue. “Do you see the gold dust around it?” She reached out her fingers and dipped into the faint trail.

  “Yes.”

  His voice did funny things to her insides, derailing her thoughts and replacing them with visions of their entwined bodies, sweaty from sex. Their hearts pounded as he took her over and over again. A small noise escaped her and she coughed to cover it up.

  He put his gaze on her but never commented on her obvious disguise attempt. She wiped her palms down her skirt again.

  “That gold is noticeable to the Guardian it belongs to—I think, or maybe it is for all of us. Or, rather, the one who needs to find and protect it. Problem is, the gold’s also noticeable to Them and They will give the ability to members of The New
Order who are stupid enough to fall for Their empty promises.”

  “So had I not invited you for dinner, you never would have found it?”

  She drank some more. “Correct. Although supposedly, the nearer we are to the battle the stronger the signal becomes so it would have led me to it.”

  “But you have no idea how that would have happened.”

  “Not a fucking clue.”

  “And the lightning?” He swirled the wine in his glass, not drinking, observing her with clarity.

  She pursed her lips for a brief second. “Like I said, it happens when two mated souls touch the artifact. And apparently when they touch one another after that during times of passion.”

  “Apparently?”

  “I’ve not had a mate before, so I’m only going on what Cale and Billy have said.”

  He leaned back and draped his arm along the top of the couch, the wine glass dangling from two fingers. “Cale and Billy?”

  “Two foster brothers who are each mated.”

  “I see. And where do they live?”

  “At the vineyard. Like everyone else.”

  “Except you?”

  “No,” she replied. “I have a room there. Sometimes my caseload is such that it’s just easier for me to sleep in town and avoid the commute. So I have an apartment here.”

  “You have a very cavalier way of speaking of a mate, which, according to you and those lightning bolts, is me. I am assuming this is a lifelong commitment and not a flash in the pan.”

  “Not so much as it’s cavalier as I’m in uncharted waters here. I’ve never had one so I don’t know proper protocol.”

  “Yet you sit here cool as anything.”

  “I’m an attorney. It does me no good to flip out and lose my shit. Trust me when I say I am shaking like a leaf on the inside where you can’t see.”

  He moved his glass to the coffee table and reached out to touch her curls. “I will not lie and say there is not a strong connection between us—and not just physically. I can usually control anything physical. What you create within me is so different. But what does your statement mean for me?”

  She’d already leaned into his touch before she caught herself. When she pulled back, he tugged on her hair, alerting her to the fact he knew what she’d done and was doing.

  “Honestly, I haven’t a clue. I do know you are now going to be a target for those from The New Order. Taylor and Mal moved to the vineyard but I hardly think it’s fair for me to demand the same when I am not even there all the time. Granted, they moved for protection, and something tells me you don’t necessarily need it from hired goons.”

  “I can take care of myself, true, but I am not so foolish as to assume I am invincible.”

  She rubbed her temples and exhaled sharply. I have no clue what to do.

  Altair turned her and laid her so her head rested upon his strong thigh. Then his fingers took over the rubbing of her temple. Lord, it felt divine.

  “Why don’t you come out to the vineyard with me and meet the others? Perhaps that will make it all a bit clearer to both of us.”

  He skimmed her lips with his finger and she looked up to find him watching her. “I think you just changed my life, Roz Hill.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “Do not apologize. I think this will be another adventure.”

  Her laugh was a sharp bark. “Look, the one thing I can say it won’t be is that. These assholes mean business. They have been getting bolder with the attacks, and Mal’s best friend was killed not too long ago.”

  “Death is a part of life, Roz. It is inevitable.”

  “Doesn’t make the losses any easier to deal with.”

  “Is it supposed to? The pain of loss allows us to know we still live.”

  She closed her eyes. “I have to take your statue.”

  “Why?”

  “It needs to be locked in the safe with the others.”

  “I think we need to continue this discussion.”

  He had the right of it. Personally, she was good with staying just like this, where he was being amiable about the entire thing. “Okay,” she muttered, sitting up once more.

  * * * *

  Altair rested his forehead against the smooth wood of his front door. His mind swam with the overload of information he’d just spent the past four hours talking to Roz about. Right now, she was going back to her place, his statue in her possession.

  “Can any of this truly be real?”

  Logically speaking, he doubted it. However, he had seen it—at least the smoke from her shoulders and the lightning. His clock chimed midnight and he pushed away from the door with a groan.

  So much for settling down into a calm and quiet life. He’d picked Oregon for a reason—he’d heard about the lovely scenery and how things just flowed around here. He hadn’t wanted to live in a large metropolis with the hectic pace so he’d settled for here, in the smaller town—on the outskirts, if he wanted to be specific—and had gotten into construction while he built up a few more pieces to open his own custom furniture store.

  Now, according to Roz, his mate, he would be in danger. He laughed as he made his way to the kitchen and grabbed a beer. His entire life had been submerged in danger, except for the three years he’d lived here.

  In that time, he had just begun to not suspect something behind every tree and bush. Not worry about bombs being planted in his vehicle.

  I suppose all that can start again now as well. He popped the top off using the edge of the counter and took a long drink.

  “I must be insane to believe all this is happening.” Still, he couldn’t deny what he had witnessed with his own eyes.

  A knock on his door had him tensing. Roz was supposed to be going home. He placed the bottle down on his counter and strode to the door. Peering through the peephole, he frowned at the sight of a back.

  Stepping to the side, he reached to the hiding place for his sidearm. “Who is it?”

  “Police.”

  “What do you need?”

  “Can you open the door, please?”

  “Hold your badge up to the hole so I can call in your number.” He released the safety and held the weapon behind his back.

  The door handle rattled and he realized the trouble she’d been talking about had just found him. “Sir, let us in.”

  “Badges first,” he said backing away, well aware they would be kicking the door in.

  The first kick sounded weak and far off. The successive three were louder and his door banged against the wall when it gave way. He remained where he was, hidden and waiting for his opportunity.

  Two men in ill-fitting uniforms stumbled down his hallway, calling for him. He studied them before he made his move. Only once he was confident they were truly impersonating cops did he act.

  When they split up, he took out the first one. Jumping from his position, he covered the intruder’s mouth with his left hand and used his right arm to choke him out. The moment he fell unconscious, Altair used tape to secure him then tossed him in the closet he’d been in.

  Tracking the second man up the stairs, he leaned in the doorway and watched him root through his personal items. The gun lay on the bed, out of reach.

  “Can I help you find something? It is, after all, my room.”

  The man whirled around, his bronze skin paling a bit. His dark eyes darted between Altair and the bed.

  “Do not even make the attempt,” he said, bringing out his own pistol and aiming it at the intruder. “You will not get there. I have every legal right to shoot you for breaking into my home, armed. Why do you not tell me what it is you are after and I will decide if I will call the cops or shoot you and call an ambulance?”

  “You are too stupid to understand. We are at the dawn of a new era. Time to pick your side.”

  Altair raised an eyebrow. “And this dawn is hiding in my bedroom?”

  “I need the piece.” He pulled a knife from his gear. “I am willing to die for my cause.�
��

  “Do you know the phrase Bring a knife to a gunfight? I think that is what you have just done.”

  “The man behind you will take your gun now.”

  “If you are trying to bluff me by using your partner, he is not going anywhere, certainly not here to help you.”

  More paling.

  “How did you come to think that whatever you are after is here?” Altair moved closer.

  “I just follow orders.” He dropped the knife.

  “Mr. Sagal?” a man called from downstairs.

  “Up here, straight back down the hallway.” He smiled. “Looks like your ride is here,” he said, moving to the weapon on the bed. He shoved his own in the back of his waistband and covered it with his shirt then picked up the assault rifle, holding it on the intruder.

  The cops came and took them and the guns away. He got the case number then went to finish his beer when he was again alone. This one had gone easily but if this was going to be happening more often, he needed to up his security. For the moment, he jimmy-rigged the door.

  “Right now, I need bed.”

  That was where he went.

  * * * *

  He rode in the elevator up to her floor. With a nod to the woman who’d ridden up with him, Altair stepped out and headed for the door of the law offices where Roz worked. It was much busier this time than when he’d been there previously.

  “Can I help you, sir?” a woman questioned him as she paused in her walking, adjusting her headset and the red curl that tried poking her in the eye.

  “I need to see Ms. Hill, please. I’m Mr. Sagal.”

  “I’ll see if she’s available. Take a seat, please.”

  “Thank you.” He sat on a flowered cushion and glanced around the office. He’d not taken the time to look around. Other things had been taking precedence at that time, such as the woman he was here to see. Roz.

  “Sir, if you’ll follow me.” The redhead beckoned to him.

  He got to his feet and trailed after her, despite knowing the way to Roz’s office. Altair stepped through her door and waited for Roz to look at him. She did and a smile turned up her lips.

  “What are you doing here?” she asked, closing the file on her desk and clasping her hands on top of it.