by Maya Banks
shielding her from view. He pressed his lips to the top of her hair. His arms were strong around her. Implacable.
She stood silently, absorbing his strength, preparing for the onslaught ahead. Steeling herself, she stepped away from Caleb and then turned her focus on the two detectives.
“Not here,” she said in a low voice. “Give it to Caleb. I’ll do it upstairs.”
Detective Ramirez exchanged looks with the other detective and then cleared his throat. “This is evidence. I’d prefer not to let it out of my sight.”
“Do you want to find her?” Ramie interjected bluntly.
Beau and Quinn had identical looks of distaste on their faces, but she wouldn’t let them shame her. She had to be strong. Ruthless. Or she’d never get through this.
“Everyone out,” Caleb said tersely.
Eliza hesitated, glancing at Caleb. “Do you want me to stay?”
“No,” Ramie said quietly. “Just Caleb. He’s seen it before. He knows what it’s like.”
Caleb flinched, regret simmering in his dark eyes. “Go,” he said in a low voice. “I’ll take care of her.”
“I’d like to tape her,” Detective Briggs spoke up.
“Absolutely not,” Caleb said before Ramie could launch her own protest. She was horrified and appalled. The very last thing she wanted was her vulnerability broadcast far and wide. All it would take is one leak to the media and the video would go viral all over YouTube and Facebook.
A chill descended, like it had upstairs in the bedroom she had no desire to go back to. She clenched her jaw to keep her teeth from chattering. They’d all think she was crazy or ill. It had to be ninety degrees outside. In October. How did anyone bear the heat for so long?
Caleb noticed though, his gaze sweeping up her arm where chill bumps dotted her skin. He frowned and gestured for the others to leave the room as he’d instructed.
“Are you all right?” Caleb murmured. “Perhaps you shouldn’t do this.”
“I just want to get it over with,” she said through her clenched jaw.
Her head was starting to ache fiercely. Nausea welled in her stomach and she hadn’t even established a link yet.
“Hurry, please,” she whispered.
Caleb barked orders at the occupants of the room. Ramie broke away from him and sank onto the couch, bending over to stare at the floor. His hand slid over her shoulder and to her nape, gathering her hair between his fingers, tangling and then soothing.
She turned her gaze upward, seeing the small purse in his grasp. She stared at it, holding her breath, wondering what horrors it hid.
Caleb lowered himself to one knee in front of her, not extending the bag yet. She ran her hands up and down her legs, feeling the rasp of the worn denim beneath the pads of her fingers.
Sucking in a deep breath, she tentatively reached for the bag and blackness consumed her. Dizzyingly, she spiraled down, screams so loud in her ears that she was nearly deafened.
The scent of blood was overpowering. Metallic and acrid. It burned her nose, assaulted her senses. She knew with certainty that it was too late for this victim. She’d never had a chance.
There was a gasp of awareness in Ramie’s mind. The victim thought she was already dead and that the sudden burst of warmth in her mind was an angel. Ramie didn’t dissuade her. Instead she tried to comfort the dying woman the only way she could.
“I won’t let him get away with this,” she whispered to the victim. “Justice will be served.”
“Thank you,” the woman whispered.
Ramie’s head exploded, darkness engulfing her. Evil so strong, so radiant it was like a black hole sucking her inward.
“I’ve been waiting for you,” he murmured. “Amusing myself until you arrived. Now that you’re here . . .”
“No!” Ramie screamed just as the woman’s eyes went glassy with death.
His laughter echoed in her tormented mind. Where was she? Why hadn’t she come back? The victim was dead, no longer holding the link alive through Ramie.
“I’ll keep collecting them,” he whispered silkily. “You can’t stop me. But you can give yourself to me. You for them. You would keep me entertained, Ramie. They can’t. They’re too weak. They give up too easily.”
“I’ll kill you,” she said in a savage whisper.
He laughed again and she felt the brush of his fingertips on her skin. Repulsed, she tried to withdraw, tried to sever the connection he was holding to her. Blood pumped through her head, pulsing violently at her neck as she fought back.
Pain assaulted her. She couldn’t breathe. Blood, there was so much blood. Everywhere, covering her hands, her clothing. She glanced down at the woman, at all the blood seeping from the still-warm body.
“Ramie! Ramie! Goddamn it, come back to me!”
So far away. Someone calling her name. It was a jolt to her system and she realized that she’d quit fighting. That she was slowly being sucked away from Caleb, dying inexplicably.
She was being shaken. Caleb was shouting at her not to go. Cold. She was so very cold.
She floated, buoyant, so light. Her eyes fluttered open and she stared into the face of death. He was strangely beautiful, not at all like the demon she imagined. He looked benign, his features sculpted like art.
His teeth flashed. Perfectly straight, impossibly white. This was not a man who blended in. He would draw notice wherever he went. How could he have escaped capture for so long?
“People see what they want to see, Ramie,” he murmured, his breath hot on her face. He tilted his head this way and that, sliding his finger gracefully down her jawline. His smile was gentle, a caress. Satisfaction . . . victory, shone back at her. She blinked and then closed her eyes, searching within herself for the power to fight back.
She opened her eyes, staring into his, mesmerized by the startling blue orbs.
“Fuck you,” she said coldly.
Rage clouded his face as he stumbled back. She was suddenly free, the oppressive weight gone. It was as though she’d been sucked down into water and suddenly turned loose. She shot upward, swimming back to consciousness. And Caleb.
Her eyelids fluttered open and she saw Caleb nearly nose to nose with her, his hands framing her face as he shouted hoarsely for her to come back and not let that bastard win.
“Ramie?”
Her breath escaped her noisily. She sagged, slipping from his grasp, hitting the floor. She lay gasping, weak and vulnerable, huddled there in a ball, shaking convulsively.
The others pounded into the room, their heavy footsteps vibrating the floor as they rushed toward her. Caleb leaned down, his own eyes closed, relief pouring from him in waves.
“Oh God, Ramie. I thought I’d lost you,” he whispered.
“Is this what you did to her before?”
The shocked exclamation yanked Ramie’s gaze up, Tori’s face going into and out of focus. She stood between her brothers, looking terrified and appalled, apology in her eyes.
“Did you do that to her when she told you where to find me?” Tori demanded.
Caleb slid shaking hands over Ramie’s shoulders, pulling her from the floor, into his arms. He pressed her face into his chest, heaving in exertion. His fingers flexed in her hair and then smoothed the tangles as he kissed the strands.
“Yes, I did this to her,” Caleb said wearily. “God help me, but I did.”
Ramie lay limply against him. She lacked the strength to even sit up on her own. She couldn’t force herself to open her eyes. Tears slipped endlessly down her cheeks. A sob welled in her throat and stuttered out against his chest.
“Do you know where she is?” Detective Briggs demanded. “Were you able to locate her?”
“Don’t cry, Ramie,” Caleb whispered. “Please don’t cry. I’ve got you. You’re safe.”
“She’s dead,” Ramie choked out. “He killed her as soon as I established the link. It’s what he was waiting for.”
Detective Ramirez swore. Eli
za knelt down beside Ramie and Caleb, her face drawn in sympathy.
“Where, Ramie? Can you tell us where she is? Don’t let her die in vain. If you can tell us where to find her, they may catch him.”
Dully, Ramie gave the location in a monotone, all the life sucked out as surely as the victim’s life had been.
Beau’s gaze flickered over Ramie, something that resembled remorse in his eyes. Quinn wrapped an arm around Tori, who was shaking, crying, as was Ramie, silently. The two women locked gazes, a moment of kinship before Tori glanced away, distress radiating from her. She ran from the room and Quinn swore violently.
“How could you have done this to her?” he said, raising his voice to Caleb. “The very last thing Tori needs is this, in her home.”
Ramie dropped her head, looking away from Caleb’s brothers. Exhaustion took hold and she drifted, uncaring, into the black void. There was peace in the silence. She reached for it, allowing it to suck her into its firm embrace. She was tired and there was too much pain for her in the present.
So she simply let go and let it swallow her whole.
Caleb felt Ramie go completely limp against him. Fear seized him, made him irrational.
“She deserves better from you,” Caleb hissed. “No matter what you think she’s done, she doesn’t deserve your judgment. I sent her to hell to save Tori. That will always be between us. And now she’s gone back because she’s the only person who can stop a cold-blooded monster. What is wrong with you that you would treat a woman this poorly? What the hell has she done but try to survive with her sanity intact?”
Quinn’s eyes widened at Caleb’s vehemence. Beau frowned, guilt tugging at his implacable features.
“Is she . . . alive?” Beau asked uneasily.
The two detectives looked alarmed and immediately started toward Ramie. Caleb wrapped his arms around her, shielding her from everyone.
“What the hell happened in here?” Detective Briggs demanded.
“I damn near lost her. That’s what happened,” Caleb said fiercely. “Go. Find the victim. Call it in. Find him so she’s safe. Don’t let her have suffered this for nothing.”
Detective Ramirez was already on his phone, barking out orders to dispatch.
“Let me look at her, Caleb,” Dane said grimly. “Is she breathing?”
Caleb’s hand twisted in her hair. He pressed his lips to her temple so he could feel the reassuring puff of her breath against his neck.
“She’s alive,” Caleb said tersely. “I’m taking her upstairs.”
Caleb slowly got to his feet, mindful of jostling his precious burden. He scooped her into his arms and strode for the stairs, her pale face still buried against his chest. His heart thumped rapidly, fear still a living, breathing entity inside him.
He’d lived without fear for most of his life. Only in the last year had he been made vulnerable, realizing what it truly meant to be afraid every minute of every day. He hated fear. It was a paralyzing quality that he had no use for. And yet with allowing himself to care about someone came the knowledge that he’d live with fear the rest of his life because there were simply some things out of his control.
He carried Ramie into his bedroom, easing her down onto his mattress. Her hands and feet were blocks of ice, her skin so chilled she seemed tinged with blue. He pulled the covers back and then crawled into bed with her, pulling her body into his, offering his warmth to her.
She never even stirred, her breathing so light that he continually sought reassurance that she was breathing at all.
What the hell was he going to do? He’d never felt so goddamn helpless in his life. There was no amount of money he could throw at this problem to make it go away. Money had long since lost any intrinsic value to him. It was simply a tool like any other that made life more comfortable. It certainly didn’t solve all of life’s problems and it didn’t make him immune to hardship and pain.
He inhaled the scent of her hair, closed his eyes and wondered what the hell he was going to do to make her pain go away.
She murmured something unintelligible and burrowed more firmly into his embrace. The small gesture gave him a measure of comfort. He relaxed, allowing the brief spurt of pleasure at having her molded against his body to surge hotly through his veins.
He would be here when she woke, so she didn’t wake alone and frightened. No matter how long she slept, he’d be here, holding her when she came back.
NINETEEN
IT was nearly two in the morning before Ramie finally stirred. Caleb had lain tensely beside her all afternoon and evening, worrying over the fact she’d been out for so long. The moment he felt her move, he tensed and glanced at the clock beside his bed. He’d only just fallen into a light sleep.
A low whimper of distress escaped her lips. His hand immediately cupped her cheek and he tilted his head so his lips covered hers. She went utterly still against him. He could practically hear her working it all out in her mind. Remembering the torment she’d endured and her sudden awareness of where she was now.
Her body shook with silent sobs. It broke his heart to hear how defeated and hopeless she sounded.
“You aren’t alone, Ramie,” he whispered against her ear.
“He killed her. Oh God, Caleb, he killed her. He used her to bait me.”
“Shhh, baby. It’s not your fault.”
Her fingers curled into his chest and her lips turned up against his neck. He felt the dampness on her cheeks and he kissed one of the tear trails away.
“Make me forget,” she said brokenly. “Please. I can’t bear it. She’s all I can see. And all I know is that I failed her.”
Caleb shook her a little, placing himself on eye level with her as he stared fiercely at her. “You did not fail her, Ramie. If you want to start assigning blame, then blame the right person. That sick bastard out there stalking you.”
He rubbed his hand up and down her back, underneath the hem of her T-shirt, up her bare spine to her nape. He trailed his fingers around to her stomach and then up, molding her breast in his palm.
His lips stuttered over hers, sucking in her sob, her breath, and returning it in a heated rush. His thumb rasped over her nipple, teasing it to a puckered, rigid peak. Her arm slid around his waist, anchoring herself against him. Her hand splayed wide over his back just as he rolled her underneath him, pushing her shirt upward with his right hand.
His skin was on fire, wanting, needing to touch her, to caress her. He’d never been so patient and gentle before. He wasn’t sure she even knew what she’d asked him, and he’d never take advantage of her. He gave her time to tell him no, to change her mind, and then he wondered if he should say no for her, if she would hate him for making love to her.
“Ramie, baby.”
Her lips whispered over his neck, up to his ear, where she nipped the lobe, sending a cascade of chills spilling over his skin.
“Tell me you want this,” he rasped. “Be sure. I’ve already done enough to make you hate me.”
“I don’t hate you,” she whispered back. “I understand. You don’t have to keep explaining, Caleb. I’m so cold. Keep me warm.”
His knee nudged her legs apart, rubbing over the thin material of her underwear. She shivered when his fingers dipped below the band and into her plush folds. She was damp, but not wet enough to take him yet.
He pulled her shirt up over her head then wrestled with his own as her hands tangled, trying to take it off him. There was a sense of urgency even as he tried to slow the pace down. He didn’t want to overwhelm her. He didn’t want her to do something she’d regret. But at the same time he wanted her with a desperation he’d never felt for a woman before.
It was hard to temper his urges. He wasn’t used to denying himself anything. He’d never had to.
But Ramie was special. So fragile. He touched her like she was precious and breakable, his mouth glancing over her satiny skin. Her taste was sweet on his tongue. His tongue swirled around her nipples, his mouth suc
king them to hard points. She gasped frantically, bucking upward, pushing herself farther into his mouth.
“Please, Caleb,” she pleaded.
The hell she’d ever have to beg him for anything he could provide.
“Be sure, Ramie. Before I get inside you. Be very sure this is what you want. I’ll stop now. All you have to do is tell me no.”
She put her fingers to his lips, suddenly going still beneath him.
“I need you.”
The simple elegance of her statement unraveled him. There was stark vulnerability in her words. He was achingly hard and yet he’d deny himself for her, to protect her. In order not to hurt her. He’d hurt her already. Enough for two lifetimes. He could never forget that even if she could.
He kissed a line down the center of her chest, his hands skating down her sides to pull at her panties. She arched, bowing up off the bed to allow him to slide her underwear down her legs. Her thighs fell open. He inhaled her scent, his body throbbing with heavy need.
Dying to taste her, he licked from her opening to her clit, his body tightening when she gasped in pleasure. Her fingers dove into his hair, flexing into his scalp. She held him in place as he sucked and licked, tasting her from inside out.
He had to have her. He was perilously close to coming and he wasn’t even inside her yet. His cock was slick already, the head coated with precum. He wedged inside her opening, stretching her to accommodate his width.
He should give her more time. Prepare her more fully, and yet he still found himself pushing inward, sucking her surprised gasp into his mouth.
The sound of discovery she made, the sudden burst of moisture that coated his dick nearly made him come on the spot. Gritting his teeth, he forced himself back, holding himself rigidly just inside her opening.
“Now,” she choked out. “Now, Caleb. Please.”
He surged forward, planting himself hard and deep. She cried out and he fused his mouth to hers, remaining still inside her as she spasmed softly around him. Slick and hot she gripped him like a velvet fist. She clutched greedily at him, pulling him deeper.
He surrendered to her pull, the roaring in his ears growing louder. He closed his eyes as color burst around him, sharp, explosive, his entire body drawn tight. He began thrusting hard and fast, the friction almost unbearable. So intensely pleasurable that he made a sound of agony through clenched teeth.
She went soft around him, her body molding sweetly to his. She let out a small hiccup into his mouth and then gasped, her breath hitching. Her fingers dug into his shoulders and she bucked upward, her cry sharp in the silence.
He pulled at her hair, tipped her head back while he devoured her mouth, consuming her like an addict in need of a fix. There was a violent need that consumed him, ricocheting up his spine and through his veins like a potent drug.
He surged forward, planting himself deep, holding there, his hips pressed hard into hers, their pelvises locked and undulating wildly. He dimly registered that he wasn’t wearing a condom. That he hadn’t even considered wearing a condom, and it was too late. His orgasm was unleashed like a wildfire, a furious storm that held him powerless in its grip.
She buried her face in his neck and held on tightly, her body shuddering wildly as her release broke over them in waves.
He’d never felt anything so beautiful in his life. Never held something so precious in his hands before. He whispered her name over and over, overcome by the power of their coming together.
His body slowed, riding hers like ocean waves. He couldn’t get enough of her. He was still hard and aching even after his release and reveling in the aftershocks. He gathered her tightly in his arms, rolling and bringing her on top of him.
She lay sprawled over him, her hair spilling like a curtain over his chest. He cupped her face in his palms, held her still for his kiss. Their tongues mated just as their bodies had. Twisting, turning, hot and wet.
Slowly her head lowered, her forehead touching his chest, the top of her head brushing his chin. He was still buried deeply within her. She pulsed around him, tugging rhythmically, pulling the last drops of his semen inside her body.
He’d never felt so complete in his life, and he had no idea how she felt.
He bunched up her hair in his fist and then relaxed his grip, stroking the soft curls against her head. Her chest heaved up and down, her entire body draped across his like a limp towel. She was warm and soft, so very feminine and delicate. He couldn’t resist touching her, gliding his fingers over her pale skin.