by Keri Arthur
She lowered her gaze and got down to the business of making coffee and setting out breakfast. “Gran, are you coming over to the table, or would you prefer to remain where you are?”
“I’ll stay here.” She patted Ethan’s hands. “Thanks, pet. That feels much better.”
Kat tossed him a hand towel, then brought over Gwen’s coffee and cinnamon rolls. “So what’s the plan today, beside rest?”
“I’ll try to do another reading this afternoon. I’ve got a feeling this thing is not going to hang around for much longer.”
“Because the police are closing in?” Ethan asked.
Gwen gave him a wry look. “The police haven’t a clue. Present company included.”
He raised an eyebrow. “So you don’t believe we’ll catch the psycho behind this?”
“No, because none of you truly know what you’re up against.” She glanced at Kat. “Why don’t you explain it to the man?”
Kat sighed and cupped her hands around her coffee mug. “The thing that’s killing these kids is what we’ve termed a soul-sucker. It’s a vampire of sorts, but instead of blood, it feeds on souls.”
His expression was blank, but she could feel his disbelief as easily as she’d felt his desire only moments before. “Vampires don’t exist.”
“Much as werewolves don’t exist? Get real, Detective.”
“Ethan,” he said automatically, then added, “That kid last night was torn apart. And the first kid was discovered drained of blood.”
Kat nodded. “Neither of which was the actual cause of death.”
“The coroner says otherwise.”
“The coroner can’t see the gaping hole this thing created when it ripped their souls from their bodies.”
“How can you even see something like that?”
She shrugged. “I told you before, I’m empathic. I see and feel emotions. A soul being torn free is a pretty emotional event, believe me.”
He stared at her for several minutes, then shook his head. “I can’t. Sorry.”
“Then believe this,” Gwen said. “That thing is not working alone. At the very least, it still has a werewolf working with it, and I suspect there are others. It saw Kat last night, and it now knows we’re on its trail. That puts us in great danger.”
He glanced at Kat. “You want me to arrange police protection?”
“No,” Gwen answered. “Their attempts to protect us would mean as little as their attempts to find this thing.”
He flexed his fingers, then picked up his coffee. He didn’t like being told his department was useless. “Then what do you want?” His voice held an edge of harshness.
“You want to find this killer fast, and you’re not particularly fussy about how you do it. We need additional protection. Two very compatible needs, I should think.”
His gaze flicked from Gwen to Kat, then back again, but in that brief moment Kat saw the surge of triumph. He’d had no intention of leaving anyway, she realized. He would have done all that he could—even using what was flaring between them—to keep close. It should have annoyed her, but it didn’t, simply because she understood his motives.
She just had to hope she was one of the more pleasurable stones in his path.
“If Benton sees me anywhere near the two of you, I’m history.”
“Then make sure you’re not seen.”
“Easier said than done. The captain’s got a nose for this sort of stuff.” He scratched his chin, the sound harsh in the silence. “If I step into this, I expect to be made a full partner. No secrets.”
“Don’t worry, Detective—you’re going to learn a whole lot more than you bargained for on this one.”
Gwen’s voice was dry, and Kat shot her a quick look. If her amused expression was anything to go by, she wasn’t talking about the case, but something else. Something more personal.
A thought she didn’t like one bit. When it came to matchmaking, her grandmother was almost as bad as Seline, the Circle’s head honcho. Both had been pushing Kat for years to find a man who could be a true partner—in work and out of it. Insinuating, in Kat’s opinion, that the men she’d been with over the years either weren’t manly enough or hadn’t a hope in hell of being able to work with her, let alone live with her. And if she was being honest, the latter was certainly a half-truth. She wasn’t the easiest person in the world to get along with. As Ethan would undoubtedly find out if she didn’t get her regular fix of chocolate soon.
He took another pastry, then stood. “I’ll go home and collect some clothes. I trust you ladies won’t run off while I’m gone?”
“We’ll be here,” Gwen said. “You can trust that, if nothing else.”
His gaze very much indicated he didn’t trust either of them. But he didn’t say anything, just headed out the door.
Kat looked at her grandmother. “Why?”
Gwen sighed. “I had a vision while you were gone. He’s in as much danger as we are.”
“Because he was part of the task force?”
“Because he was closer than he knew. Remember, he was at that warehouse before you or the soul-sucker or the vampire. I wouldn’t be surprised if he has latent precognition skills.”
“And the soul-sucker was heading after him because of that?”
“Yes.” Gwen rubbed her eyes. “It’s also after us, for much the same reason. We all stand a better chance if we stay together.”
“Did you see when they’ll attack?”
“You know my visions are never that specific.”
Unfortunately, she did. But occasionally she hoped for a miracle. “Was that all?”
“I did see one other thing. And it’s the reason I waited until Ethan left to tell you all this.”
A lump settled in her stomach. There could be only one reason to wait until Ethan had left. She gulped down her coffee to ease the dryness in her throat, but it didn’t seem to help much. “What?”
“His niece is still alive.”
KAT BLINKED. “WHAT?”
“She’s alive. She’s not dead yet.”
“Then why …?”
The question hung in the air, and Gwen sighed. “Can you imagine his reaction if I told him that? I don’t know where she is, or what condition she’s in. I just know that at this point in time, that little girl lives. It might be a different story in a few hours’ time.”
“And you got no image at all that could help us find her?”
Gwen shook her head. “It’s not a warehouse, though. It’s somewhere different.”
“Why?” What sick game was the soul-sucker playing now?
“I don’t know. But she seems to be working in six-day cycles, and she doesn’t kill one kid until she’s snatched another.”
“If that’s the case, then Ethan’s niece has three days left.”
“Maybe. Maybe not. As I said, I just don’t know.”
There was entirely too much on this case they just didn’t know, and kids were dying because of it. She noted the slump in her grandmother’s shoulders and rose. “Why don’t you get some sleep?”
“I might just do that.”
Kat offered a hand, then carefully pulled her grandmother upright. Gwen cursed as bones cracked, and worry stirred through Kat. The arthritis was definitely getting worse, and despite what she’d said to Ethan earlier, Gran did have a choice. Seline had recently found a way to mute both the visions and her scrying ability, so walking away was, for the first time in fifty years, a true option for her grandmother.
They had a beautiful house in San Francisco with a garden far too neglected. Over the past few months, she’d tried suggesting that maybe Gwen should stay home every other mission, but her grandmother wasn’t having a bit of it. And the reason was her. They’d been together for close to thirty years—all her life, basically. Gwen wasn’t only her grandmother, but mother, confidante, and best friend. They were so close, it always felt wrong when they were apart for more than a few days.
But that wasn’t t
he problem. The truth was, Kat didn’t have anyone else to protect her, and Gwen had no other reason for life. It was an impasse they’d obviously have to resolve soon, before the arthritis totally destroyed Gwen’s quality of life.
After helping her grandmother into her nightie and then into bed, she checked the windows and locked the shutters. By that time, Gwen was asleep. Kat quietly cleaned up the breakfast mess, munching on the last cinnamon roll as she did so.
A shower and change of clothes followed. She needed sleep as well, but that wasn’t an option until Ethan got back. She wasn’t about to leave the door open, and she could hardly expect him to wait outside while she and Gran snoozed. She ignored the imp slyly suggesting that wasn’t her only reason and grabbed a cushion off one of the sofas.
The day outside was cool, but the sun caressed the porch with warmth. She sat on the cushion and leaned back against the wall. The view wasn’t all that inspiring. Beyond her old Mustang there was only a thin expanse of concrete, then more connecting motel units—most of which were empty, which was strange, because it was awfully pretty here in winter. But maybe the news of the kidnappings was keeping the tourists away.
She closed her eyes.
She wasn’t sure how long she’d slept, or how long he’d sat there, watching her. The awareness of him surfaced slowly—a tingle that rose from her toes and spread gently through every fiber, until her breath caught in her throat.
Like her, he sat on the porch, leaning back against one of the posts supporting the porch railing, his long legs stretched out in front of him. His dark hair was damp, his jaw freshly shaved, and he looked damn fine in black jeans and a dark teal shirt.
“A Christmas present from your mother, huh?” she said, eyeing the shirt with a smile.
He raised an eyebrow. “That psychic intuition?”
His voice flowed over her, as warm as cocoa on a cold night. “I don’t know many men who’d walk into a store and buy a teal shirt. If you discount moms, Christmas, and birthdays, the only other options are wives or girlfriends.”
“Of which I have none.”
For which she was fiercely glad. “Because you’re a cop, or because you haven’t found the right woman?”
“Partially both, and partially neither.”
“In other words, you’re not saying?”
He shrugged. “What about yourself? No one waiting back in San Francisco?”
“You’ve been checking up on me.”
“I’m a cop. It’s what I do.”
Yeah, right. As if the Springfield police department had the time to check the background details of everyone they came in contact with.
“I’m still waiting for a man who likes chocolate as much as I do.” She hesitated, then added impishly, “So where do you stand on the chocolate debate?”
“Can’t stand the stuff.”
She sighed dramatically. “Another dream crumbles to dust.”
Amusement touched the nut-brown depths of his eyes. “That mean we can’t have sex?”
“Hell, no.”
“Good.”
Their gazes locked. Her heart began to beat in triple time, and desire burned through her veins. She wanted this man; there was no denying that. But right here and now was hardly practical—on a porch or in a motel room with her grandmother sleeping in the next bed. Gran probably wouldn’t mind the noise, but the mere thought embarrassed the hell out of Kat.
“I need to sleep.”
“That’s a damn shame.”
She wasn’t exactly sure what he meant and was reluctant to ask, simply because the line between common sense and lust was thin enough. Too much more, and common sense hadn’t a hope.
She stood, gathering the cushion as she did. He rose with her, and suddenly the porch seemed far too small. She licked her lips, saw his gaze drop to her mouth, and her throat went dry. He took the step that separated them, and all she could smell was freshly soaped skin and raw masculinity.
Her whole body tingled, as if brought to life by this man’s presence. She’d never felt anything as powerful as this, and she so desperately wanted to make love to him. To feel his hands on her skin, his body on hers. In hers. Save for Gran being in the next bed …
“Gran’s asleep.” Her voice came out husky.
“I know.”
Their bodies barely brushed, yet she was intensely aware of every part of him. From the fire burning in his eyes to the rapid rise and fall of his chest pressing against her aching nipples to the heated hardness of his erection.
“We can’t. Not here.”
“I know.”
But he didn’t retreat, and neither did she. He brushed a hand down her side to her hip, then moved his fingers across her bare stomach, searing her skin with the heat. Then his touch moved up under her T-shirt, and her breath caught in anticipation. When his thumb rubbed one aching nipple, she almost groaned in ecstasy.
She swallowed hard and tried to stay sane. “What you’re doing could get us arrested.”
“Sure could.”
His attention moved to her other breast, and her legs quivered. Even if she’d wanted to retreat, she very much doubted if her legs would support such an action. His other hand cupped her cheek and his thumb outlined her lips. Her heart stuttered to a stop as he slipped his hand around the back of her head, holding her still as he lowered his mouth to hers.
His kiss was like nothing she’d ever felt before. A gentle, erotic possession that gave so much and yet left her hungering for more.
“You’d better go inside,” he whispered, his breath hot and unsteady against her lips. “Because I want you so bad I’m tempted to finish this right here and now.”
She stepped back and suddenly remembered how to breathe again. “Thank you.”
“For what?”
“For not pushing when you knew you could.”
His smile was a little wry. “Trust me when I say it’s little more than self-interest.”
“Meaning?”
He brushed his fingers down her cheek, and she had to check the urge to step right back into his arms.
“Meaning I have every intention of making love to you as often as I can over these next few days, and if I pushed now, that wouldn’t be likely to happen.”
His words did little to ease her heart’s unsteady pounding. “Self-preservation indeed.”
He shrugged. “I’m a werewolf caught in moon fever. I need sex. But it’s you I want this phase, no one else.”
Then she had to thank the moon’s presence, because without it she might not be standing here with this man. Might not have the promise of mind-blowing sex to warm her dreams.
“Will you be able to sleep on the sofa, or would you prefer to take the bed?”
“I’m not going to be able to sleep anywhere.” His voice was ironic. “Not for a while yet.”
Her gaze flicked down. “Oh. Sorry.”
“I’m not.” He leaned forward and brushed a kiss across her lips. “Pleasant dreams.”
She had a feeling they would be beyond pleasant. As she headed inside, she thought she heard a sigh of disappointment coming from her grandmother’s bed.
WARMTH CARESSED HER FACE, WARMING HER SENSES. KAT yawned and stretched, then opened her eyes. Her watch showed it was just past twelve. She hadn’t slept long enough, but it was all the time she could afford.
She found a clean shirt, dug up a skirt, then headed into the bathroom. By the time she’d showered and dressed, her grandmother was awake and sitting at the table reading the paper. Ethan had come inside and was on the sofa, talking into a cell phone. But his gaze met hers and the arousal was instant. The sooner they got down and dirty, the better off they’d both be.
She turned on the kettle, then crossed her arms and leaned a hip against the small counter. “The aches better?”
Gwen grinned and said softly, “Better than yours, I’d wager.”
“Don’t start on me. It’s likely to get unpleasant.”
“This i
s exactly what I was talking about. Totally disagreeable when unsatisfied.”
“Gran—”
Gwen held up her hand. “All I’m saying is these old ears are deafer than you think.”
“Yeah, right.” The woman had the hearing of an elephant. She just didn’t have the floppy ears to go with it.
The kettle whistled shrilly. Kat made them all a cup of coffee, handing one each to Gwen and Ethan before sitting down at the table with her own.
“So, have you tried to do a reading yet?”
“Briefly. You know how difficult it is when I’ve just woken.”
Kat nodded. “See anything of use?”
“One interesting point. It seems this thing knows about you and Ethan, but not yet about me, which is definitely in our favor.”
“But it doesn’t mean we don’t have to worry about your safety any less than our own.”
Gwen reached across the table and briefly squeezed Kat’s hand. “But if I’m not seen with you, then its thoughts will be concentrated on you rather than me, and perhaps give me a clear field in which to see its mind and know its intentions.”
They could only hope. “Even so, I want you to start using warding stones whenever we’re not here.”
Gwen nodded, then gave Ethan a smile as he sat down with them. “I also got a call from Seline. She thinks this thing is called a mara. It’s an ancient spirit who enters houses either as a cat or as vapor to seduce men in their sleep, then steal their souls.”
“It’s stealing souls, but it’s certainly not seducing men to do it.”
“Not that we are currently aware of, anyway. But Seline’s still digging around, so she might find a reason for the deviation in known behavior.”
“Seline being the head of this Damask Circle you work for?” Ethan queried.
“He’s a cop,” Kat said with a smile. “They tend to dig.”
“They do indeed.” Gwen’s gaze was amused as she looked at Ethan. “And yes, she is.”
“Did she give you any idea how to stop this thing?”
“Not yet, but if it’s some sort of vampire, then we could try all the traditional methods of killing a vampire.”