Free Lost in Shadows by CJ Lyons Page A

hormones, fueling a biological imperative to mate, to celebrate life after nearly dying. That’s all this feeling was. 
    Still, talk about your perfect one night stand—he’d be gone, off to save the world in the morning once she got him off the mountain. She’d probably never see him again. 
    Her wicked thoughts sent a tingle through her veins. No. He was injured. She couldn’t take advantage of him. Could she? 
    Vinnie’s grin widened. She stood up straight and strode back to the cabin. For the first time since she’d met Lucky she felt like she was in control of the situation.
    Damn, it felt good.
    When she returned inside, he was immersed in the computer. 
    “This is very bad,” he said, his fingers tapping the keys with increasing agitation. He looked up at her, his forehead wrinkled in concern. “You really do think we can get off this mountain, right? Because there’s a lot at stake. Thousands, maybe millions of people could die if we can’t stop The Preacher.”
     

 
     
     
    CHAPTER 11
     
     
    “The Preacher’s tied into every fanatic group from Al Qaeda to PETA,” Lucky explained. “And he’s coordinating them in simultaneous attacks two days from now.”
    Vinnie sat the pot of snow on the fire. This wasn’t the time for hormones or biological imperatives. This was the real deal—even though it felt like something out of a bad Steven Seagal movie. “I thought The Preacher was a constitutionalist. Considers himself Thomas Jefferson’s reincarnation, here to protect and defend the Constitution, wants to reshape the government the way the founding fathers meant it to be. What would he want with Al Qaeda, much less PETA?”
    “How do you know so much about The Preacher?” he asked, an edge to his voice.
    “Relax, Cavanaugh. Even us hillbillies know how to read. I go down to Goose Creek once a week and pick up the Post and the Times, the local papers and any books the library van drops off. I’m not totally out of touch with the rest of the world. I just prefer my corner of the world to be traffic and,” she glanced pointedly at the Glock lying beside him, “gun free.”
    “Guess you’ve got a point there.” He looked back at the computer. “I’m almost finished with these. Once I do, I’m going to give you the hard drive to carry. In case we get separated.”
    She looked up at that. “In case? Never play poker, Cavanaugh, you’re a bad liar. What’s your plan?”
    “Busted.” He grinned at her like a schoolboy. “You said we had two options, cross the gorge to your cabin or go down the mountain. I thought we’d have twice the chance to get this information out if we split up. I’ll go to your cabin, you head down the mountain.”
    “Bad idea.”
    “Why? You can move faster than I can, you know the terrain, it would be easy for you to avoid The Preacher’s men, get down to Goose Creek. I can create several diversions up here to keep them busy, give me time to cross the gorge, get to your place.”
    She placed the steaming pot of oatmeal and raisins between them, offered him the spoon first while she took the topo map out, spread it on the bench beside him, kneeling in front of him so that they could both see. 
    “We’re here.” She indicated the shelter on the map. “This red line is the trail.” She traced her finger along the circuitous route of the steep and winding Lost River Trail. “My cabin is here.” She moved her finger west, across the gorge.
    “So close? Why didn’t we go there tonight?”
    “This blue line between us and my cabin is the Lost River. All those tiny lines stacked one on top of each other on either side of it represent the vertical drop.” 
    Vinnie waited as he glanced at the map scale, counted the lines and did the math. A yawn came over her, and she was tempted to close her eyes for one second, rest her head on his lap. Just for minute or two, let him deal with the outside world and all the craziness that came with it. She could