NightWind 1st Book: HellWind Trilogy

by Charlotte Boyett-Compo

  Lauren tucked her lower lip between her teeth. “Yes. Have you ever thought about it?”

  “No,” he was quick to respond, wishing his answer hadn’t been so firm for he saw the wistful expression disappear from her face to be replaced with a look of hurt. “I mean,” he just as quickly added, “it hasn’t been something high on my list of priorities.”

  She studied his face. “And now?”

  He felt trapped. He looked away from the expectant look on her face. “We haven’t been married all that long, Lauren. Why would you want to start a family so soon?”

  She pushed away from his shoulder and turned so she could face him. “Is there some reason you don’t want to have children?”

  He shook his head. “No.” He couldn’t give her a child of his own and didn’t want another man’s seed in her belly.

  “Do you dislike children?” she asked in a voice that said she hoped that wasn’t the case.

  He shook his head again. “No, that’s not it.”

  “Then what is?” she probed.

  Syntian shrugged. “I don’t know. We haven’t been married long enough to think about having kids.” He stood up and shoved his hands into the pockets of his jeans. “We’ve got time.”

  “I don’t,” she said.

  He looked back at her. “What?”

  “The old biological clock,” she laughed nervously, standing up beside him. “Time’s running out for me to start a family.” She slipped her arm around his waist and leaned against him. “Will you at least think about it?”

  The trap had sprung and he was caught. If he told her he couldn’t father a child by her, she would want to know why. She might even insist they go to a doctor, which he damned sure couldn’t allow. If he told her they needed to wait, she would wonder if he just didn’t want to share her with a child. If he tried to talk her out of having a baby, she would no doubt think he didn’t want one of the burdensome little brats, which he didn’t. Any way he went, he was destined to run up against the stone wall of her hurt.

  “Syntian?”

  He exhaled a long breath. “Is that what you want, Lauren? A baby?” He felt her arms tighten around him.

  “More every time I see little boys like that.” she pointed to a toddler throwing sand into the air, chuckling hilariously as it cascaded down on his head.

  “Preston!” the little boy’s mother cried out. “Stop that!”

  Lauren laughed. “Boys will be boys,” she said wistfully.

  He enfolded her in his arms and peered across the park at the laughing, playing child. He felt a constriction in his chest and knew there was only one way to give her the child she wanted and it was a way he found utterly loathsome.

  “I’m sorry,” she said, sensing his reluctance. When she would have pulled away, she found herself even more tightly in his embrace.

  “If you want a baby,” he said, his voice and face set and grim, “then we’ll have a baby.”

  She looked up at him. “Are you sure?”

  He watched keen pleasure flit across her upturned face; happiness put a gleam in her eyes. He drew in a long breath, held it then exhaled slowly. “Aye, Sweeting. I’m sure.”

  They were getting into the car at Wal-Mart when Ben Hurlbert hailed them. Syntian turned, an annoyed frown on his face as the newly elected Sheriff came hurrying over to them.

  “Syntian,” Hurlbert acknowledged as he skirted the front of the Porsche and reached out to open Lauren’s door before her husband could. “How you been, Lauren?”

  “Good and you?” she asked, a little embarrassed by the effusive way in which she had been greeted.

  “Can’t complain,” Ben answered, grinning. He looked over Lauren’s head to Syntian. “Found that office yet?”

  “Not yet,” Syntian replied. He helped Lauren into the sports car and then looked at the Sheriff over the door rim. “Is there something we can do for you?”

  A faint tug of dislike crossed Ben’s face then slipped away as he shrugged. “I was just wondering if you two would like to come to a little shindig I’m having out at my place this Sunday.”

  “That’s the day of the raft race, isn’t it?” Lauren asked, glancing up at her husband and wondering why he looked so angry.

  “Yep, it sure is,” Ben agreed. “I’m gonna set the grill up and burn some steaks; throw some bottles of Coors in the river and watch the tubes go by.”

  “I believe we have a prior engagement,” Syntian answered, firmly shutting his wife’s door. He looked down at her and something in his expression demanded that Lauren not correct him. He watched the puzzlement begin to form on Lauren’s face then turned away, locking his stare with Ben’s. “Thanks for asking, though.”

  Ben looked down at Lauren and saw the guilt on her face. He glanced up at the woman’s husband and tried to get past the hostile look on Cree’s face. “That’s a shame,” he finally said, knowing he was being told a lie and thinking he knew why.

  “Maybe some other time,” Syntian told him.

  There was a current running from one man to the other as Lauren looked up at them through the open window of the car. Their faces were set, and she thought with a fleeting sense of the ridiculous, had they been dogs, she was sure their hackles would have been standing. She had to look away from them before she started laughing.

  “Tell me, Sheriff,” Syntian said as he walked around the rear of the car and opened his door. “Have you ever found any trace of who killed Beth Janacek?”

  Ben’s face flamed and he glared at his tormentor over the top of the car. “No. If I had, it would have been in the paper.”

  Syntian’s smile was slow and malicious. “I don’t have time to read the paper.” He lifted one thick dark brow. “Lauren keeps me busy doing...” His smile widened. “...Other things.”

  The red glow intensified in Ben’s cheeks and the man tore his gaze from the deadly insincere smile that was aimed at his jugular. He looked down at Lauren then told her he hoped to see her soon. With one last angry look at Syntian he headed toward the store.

  Syntian stood where he was, one foot in the car, the other on the pavement of the parking lot, his right arm on the top of the car, and stared at Ben Hurlbert. The man was handsome, as mortal men went. He had dark hair and eyes and he was tall, although somewhat lanky. His face held just a touch of squareness and his jaw was firm.

  “That was rude,” Lauren said.

  Getting into the car, Syntian glanced over at his wife. “He’s in love with you.”

  Lauren stared at him as he bent forward to crank the car. “You’re not serious.”

  He eased up on the clutch and backed the Porsche out of the parking slot. “And he knows I know it.”

  There didn’t seem anything she could say as he nosed the sports car out of the parking lot. She simply stared at his profile, seeing the anger in the way he kept his jaw clenched. “The thing is,” he said, “he knows I’m not going to let him do anything about it.” He looked at his wife. “You want an ice cream cone?”

  Lauren’s mouth dropped open. “An ice cream cone?”

  “At Micky D’s,” he answered, shifting lanes.

  “No, I don’t want an ice cream cone,” she snapped. “I want to know why you told Benny we couldn’t go up to his place this Sunday.”

  “I just told you.”

  “No, you didn’t.”

  “You weren’t listening then.”

  They were silent all the way down Highway 90. He pulled into the fast food restaurant’s parking lot and headed for the drive-thru. When he spoke again—as though there had been no silence between them—his voice was firm.

  “I said he was in love with you and I wasn’t going to let him do anything about it.” He rolled down his window at the order kiosk.

  “May I take your order, please?” came the hollow, girlish voice.

  “A chocolate swirl and a glass of water,” he ordered.

  “I don’t believe you,” Lauren said with exasperation as
he rolled his window up and pulled in behind the car ahead of them.

  “What don’t you believe? The ice cream or the water?”

  “Syntian,” she warned in that long, drawn out way a woman has of reprimanding her mate.

  “I’m not taking you out to that bastard’s place so he can flirt with you, Lauren,” he announced as he dug into his pocket for the change to pay for the cone. “And that’s all there is to it.”

  A fierce pride went through Lauren’s heart, along with a hint of laughter at his stony face as he turned to let her know he meant what he said. “You’re jealous.”

  “No, I’m not,” he denied, lowering his window down to pay the girl. He took the cone and wrapped it in a napkin before handing it to his wife.

  “Yes, you are.” Lauren grinned.

  “No, I’m not!” he hissed from between clenched teeth. He took his cup of water then rolled the window back up.

  “As jealous as you can be.”

  He glared at her. “Whatever you say.”

  She bit into her ice cream cone. “And I think I like it.”

  He grunted, took a sip of his water, and pulled out of the parking lot into the traffic.

  Ben said hello to the bartender at McGuire’s Irish Pub. He ordered a draft and nodded at the two young Navy fly boys who were sitting at the bar. “You guys at Mainside or Whiting?” he asked as the frosty beer was placed in front of him.

  “Whiting,” one of them answered.

  “Just got assigned here.”

  “Where you from?” Ben asked as he wiped the foam from his upper lip.

  “Pete’s from Tampa and I’m from Columbia, South Carolina,” the taller of the two said. He finished off his beer and ordered another. “Name’s Mike.” He held out his hand.

  “Southern boys,” Ben grinned, shaking hands with both young men. “That’s the best there are.” He took a long gulp of his brew.

  “What do you do?” the one called Pete asked.

  “He turns a girl’s head is what he does.”

  Ben jumped, hearing the voice almost in his ear. He looked around and saw a beautiful blond-haired woman giving him an appraising grin. He smiled at her.

  “I’m Raja,” the woman told him, running her hand up his back and onto his shoulder. “What’s your name, darlin’?”

  Ben swallowed the beer in his mouth. “Ben,” he answered. “Ben Hurlbert.”

  The woman’s blue eyes glowed. “And what do you do Ben-Ben Hurlbert?” She ran her finger down his arm.

  “C...cop,” he stammered, feeling the path of her finger as it moved down to the back of his hand.

  “That’s nice,” she said in a low, throaty voice. “I’ve always wondered what it was like to do it with an officer of the law.”

  The two Navy men chuckled, eyeing one another with knowing looks. The shorter of the two, the one named Pete, slapped Ben on the back. “I think she wants to show you a little southern hospitality, dude!”

  Raja sidled closer to Ben. She fused her gaze with his surprised one. “That’s not all I’d like to show him.”

  Ben stared at her, the bulge in his trousers becoming harder and harder as the woman’s blue gaze traveled down his frame then settled with heat on his face.

  “How about it, Ben-Ben Hurlbert?” she challenged, coming so close to him the tips of her lush breasts poked into his khaki safari shirt. “Wanna play cop and hooker?”

  Ben felt a shooting spark of pure lust travel through his belly and he stepped back, downed the rest of his beer, slammed the stein down on the bar, and took the woman’s slim arm in his hand.

  “Lady,” he said on a throaty grunt, “I’m placing you under arrest!”

  “Place me under you, baby,” Raja said, “and I’ll show you what a real woman can do!”

  The two Navy flyers nudged one another as they watched Hurlbert leaving the pub with the tall, willowy woman in tow.

  “I think he felt the need for speed.” The taller of them chuckled.

  “He definitely ain’t lost that loving feeling!” his brother-in-arms replied dryly.

  It hadn’t been all that hard, Syntian thought, as he drove recklessly back to Milton from Pensacola. Actually, it had been easier than he would have expected. Getting out of the house, lying to Lauren about where he was going, had been harder than the rest of it. That was something he didn’t like to do: Lie to Lauren.

  By his calculations, he had a little less than an hour in which to do what had to be done. Less than that if he got caught speeding down Highway 90. He eased his foot off the accelerator as he drove through Pace. It wouldn’t do to attract attention to the black car and himself.

  He’d done it only once before, he thought with a grimace of distaste. A long, long time ago. What had been her name? He tried to remember. Theresa? Bridget? Siobann? He couldn’t remember. It didn’t matter. She’d wanted a baby and he had provided her with one.

  “And will ye be giving me one with bonny blue eyes and bright red hair, my lover?” she’d asked him.

  “I will give you whatever you want, milady,” he’d told her.

  The little girl had been born with her father’s flaming red hair and piercing blue eyes. Although he couldn’t remember the woman’s name, he had never forgotten the man’s: Seamus.

  Syntian shuddered, his gorge rising in his throat. No, he hadn’t forgotten the producer of the seed that had given the Irish woman her wee bairn with flaming red hair and blue, blue eyes. And he knew he’d never forget Ben Hurlbert, either.

  Or the man’s mouth.

  Or his hands.

  Or his sickening thrusts.

  Syntian’s hands tightened on the steering wheel. He still smelled the musky, cheap scent of Hurlbert’s Avon cologne. It had invaded his nostrils like the scent of putrefying flesh. He imagined it clung to his own flesh and he reached out to open the car window to get rid of the smell.

  The only thing difficult about the entire business had been making sure Hurlbert had not used the condom he had insisted on using. There had been a moment when the Sheriff’s notion of safe sex and Syntian’s own needs had come at loggerheads. Syntian had won out and the stupid bastard’s sperm was wiggling around inside a body that was disgusted by it.

  “Shit,” Syntian hissed, running his hand over his sweaty face. He stopped at the traffic light by the Pace High school turn off and lowered his head to the steering wheel, overcome with nausea and loathing. He squeezed his eyes shut, wanting to puke, wanting to rid himself of the smell and the feel and the seed of Benjamin Hurlbert.

  That he would have to inject that seed into his own wife filled Syntian with a disgust that bordered on insanity. That Lauren would bear Ben Hurlbert’s child, was a torment that came close to the pain he had felt when Tsahan had been murdered.

  “It’s what she wants,” he mumbled to himself, unaware that the light had turned green. “She wants a baby.”

  A horn blared at him and Syntian jerked his head up, staring with anger at the car behind him. He stuck his hand out the window and acknowledged the driver behind with a stiff finger. The horn blasted again and Syntian just sat there, hoping the driver would get out and come at him.

  Realizing he might have started something he couldn’t finish, the driver of the blue BMW behind Syntian backed up, came around the Porsche with a long triumphant blare of his horn. The driver shot his hand out the window of his automobile and repeated Syntian’s greeting before peeling off.

  “Die, you bastard,” Syntian growled, narrowing his gaze. He watched as the driver lost control of the car and the vehicle spun crazily around in the road before flipping end over end into the ditch. It landed on its top and burst into flames. He drove past the crackling fire, ignoring it. His mind was on Lauren and what he had to do.

  It was almost dawn. He sat on the long back porch of his home and stared off into the dark pine thicket that was becoming alive with birds and scavenging animals. In the master bedroom above him, Lauren was sound asleep, her body a
lready seeded with the child she wanted.

  He hung his head, bloody tears dripping down his cheeks.

  “Syntian.”

  He shook his head. “No.”

  “Syntian, come to me...”

  He slapped his hands over his ears to blot out the insistent sound of Angeline’s voice. “Go away!”

  “Don’t make me send Del after you, Syntian.”

  He lowered his hands, brought them around to press his fingertips over his eyes. His entire body seemed to sag with defeat. “Leave me alone, Angeline.”

  “Come, Syntian,” was the demand. “I command you, demon.”

  “Why are you tormenting me like this?” he whimpered, his heart breaking .

  “If I call you again,” came the fierce reply, “you will pay dearly for your defiance.”

  He looked behind him, to the place where he knew Lauren was sleeping, then he got up and melted into the ripening light.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Lauren missed Onyx the most in the move she had made from her little house to the sprawling mansion that was her husband’s home. The cat had not been seen since she came back from her honeymoon and she hoped nothing had happened to the little fellow.

  “He found another home,” Syntian had assured her.

  But Lauren had agonized over her pet’s disappearance, wishing they had searched harder for him when they’d called him the day before the wedding. Lauren had meant to put him in the vet’s although Syntian had argued against it.

  “He’s a creature of nature, Lauren. He wouldn’t want to be locked up in a cage.” He’d kissed her. “He can fend for himself. Just leave some food with Agnes and Anna. They’ll feed him.”

  Padding down the stairs to fix breakfast for herself since Syntian never seemed to eat anything but canned tuna and salmon salads and globs of raw hamburger that made her stomach lurch.

  “How can you eat that stuff?” she’d asked him.

  “I like it.”

  His eating habits worried her, but he seemed healthy enough. At least he wasn’t filling up on red meat and demanding elaborate dishes she couldn’t cook.