It had to have been Harper. She’d escaped and was using her powers somehow. She had been learning to control it, and if she had focused hard enough, like he knew she could, she most likely was the source of this. But why? When he’d seen her release Jeff, he’d hoped she’d chosen justice over revenge. Righteousness over killing.
But the force of that staggering storm was so mortally strong. If Harper was the eye of the storm, how on earth could she endure it? Endure the raging force of the rain, wind, and lightning? Bobby’s notes had said the subjects burned from the inside when they’d used their power to its fullest.
Then he remembered. Her brother’s notes hadn’t accounted for the fact that her powers were the real thing. The pure serum, not like the others. So, she’d have survived it. Right? Plus her powers were able to regenerate.
But Jeff had captured her. The bastard had thrown her in a crate, in the dark, where her powers couldn’t thrive.
He had to find her.
Skidding with every soggy step, he made his way as fast as he could past the dripping trees that stood within the compound. Rome recalled the map of the courtyard and tried to follow it in his mind. Though dangerously hard to orient himself through the incessant fog, he kept up his swift pace, desperate to find Harper.
Until he found himself flat on his face in the waterlogged grass. Pushing up on his knees, he looked over his shoulder to see what he’d tripped on.
A body. Lying facedown, as he’d just been. Rome recognized the dark camouflaged fatigues from all the men who had surrounded Harper in the courtyard. Was he destined to find her unmoving body like this, stuck in the crate?
No, Harper was alive. He had to believe that.
Rome stood and looked around to regain his bearings. His gaze didn’t cut very far through the mist and rain, but he began to walk in the direction he hoped he’d been heading. It was like walking through a perpetual fog machine.
Not ten feet later, he stumbled over another fatigueclad body lying faceup on the grass. Damn it all.
Rome moved on at a slower pace, his impeded gaze darting from the thick haze ahead to the ground. Disorientation kept him from calling out to her. Who knew what he might run into? Though he imagined that anyone he found would want to kill her.
Pulling his gun from his shoulder holster, Rome readied it just in case.
A soggy squish broke through the eerily quiet murkiness. Someone was coming. Through the dense mist and rain, he couldn’t see but could almost feel the air stirring as someone moved closer to his position. He stilled into a crouch and waited.
The stirring air swarmed into a brisk breeze. The breeze grew to a damp gust. The gust grew to a roar, deep and rumbling. Driven to his knees, Rome lifted his arm to shield his eyes as he struggled to see through the blustery onslaught.
Then it all ceased.
A ghostly silence befell the still, misty air that enveloped him. Rome wiped his eyes with his wet sleeve, trying desperately to see anything, gun raised and ready.
Steady rain continued to pour mutely, but the gray haze began to scatter like fireflies. A dark form materialized, forcing the mist to dissipate as it moved toward him.
Harper.
It was Harper. Seductive and powerful. Coming into clearer focus the closer she came. Her arms were slightly spread, palms out, radiating gentle translucent waves of energy, clearing the haze until it was simply gone, leaving only the rain behind.
Her unsteady movement seemed to grow stronger with every step. She came to stand directly in front of him. In the streaming rain. Mere inches away.
Rome’s heart stopped and then pounded faster than the rainfall coming down. She held out a shaky dripping hand. He took it, squeezing gently, causing little mud bubbles to percolate where their palms joined. She gave his hand a slight tug and he rose slowly, just staring at her, an ethereal vision of wild beauty and untamed nature.
Her blonde hair was plastered to her head. Her sopping clothes were blotched with blood and mud, and she smelled like muck. Her endless green eyes were as clear as looking through dew on grass. She was everything he would ever want. Ever need. Taking a step forward, he reached for her other hand and leaned into her. Harper did the same, resting her wet forehead against his. He closed his eyes and savored this one perfect moment, wishing it could last forever.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
The spattering rain continued to trickle down around them. After a long, languid moment of simply being with Rome, Harper opened her eyes and gazed at the man she’d somehow grown to love. The blue in his eyes was an infinite stormy sky, churning and wild.
But he was alive. And so was she.
“I thought you were dead.” Her husky voice sounded strained to her own ears as she just looked at him, reveling in his living warmth and the landslide of emotion that threatened to overtake her.
“I thought we had a plan.” Rome’s eyes narrowed, his voice hoarse as he tilted his head just a tad, his sharp gaze piercing hers. His tone was questioning, challenging.
“I got tired of waiting.” She crooked her lips into a sheepish smile, injecting the hope in each word that he would somehow forgive her. That he would somehow love her in spite of everything.
Then she leaned forward and used her lips for something else. Harper kissed him fiercely, willing him to experience just how much she loved him.
In the pouring-down rain, with Rome’s love surrounding her, Harper began to believe life would indeed go on. Even if it would go on without her. She could hardly believe she’d survived up to this point. She felt drained but oddly steady as her strength started to return with every breath of fresh air. That much power should’ve killed her.
His arms wrapped around her, crushing her hard against his chest as he deepened the kiss. She lost herself in the intoxicating moment.
Rome broke the intense connection with a gravelly chuckle against her lips and turned to glance around the courtyard area. “What a mess.” He shook his head sadly.
Harper followed his gaze through the teeming rain, the blustery haze now all but gone. Bodies littered the squared area, some stirring, some not. She searched for Jeff and saw him still breathing.
She bowed her head in regret over all the lives she’d taken. Her need for revenge had stained her hands with blood she knew she’d never be able to wash away.
But then she raised her head, contentment overshadowing the remorse by the simple knowledge of the lives she’d saved by stopping Jeff and his faction. And by keeping Bobby’s work safe, maybe the bloodstains could be honored with the good his formula could do.
As if reading her mind, Rome brought her hand up to his lips for a quick kiss, breaking through her heavy thoughts. He rested a hand on her wet shoulder and fished out a cell phone from his back pocket. It dripped as he pressed a button, making a call.
“Area secure,” he said into the mouthpiece. “Proceed with caution. Lock down the facility and hold any survivors.” She watched him end the call and tuck the phone away.
Barely a moment later, Rome ’s hidden backup team of black-clad men and women filed into the quad, splashing through the grass and mud, checking the prone bodies, securing the living members of the faction, passing by the others. Some saw to their stirring comrades while others filtered into the facility, guns ready.
“Harper, these are the good guys.” Rome’s somber tone drew her attention away from the surreal scene, something she’d seen only in action movies. “My guys.”
Harper nodded her head sadly, her mind swirling with muddled emotions.
“I wish I’d gotten to Bobby’s data sooner,” he continued, grasping her hand, clearly wanting to tell her something. “Or at least known what he found out about-”