Forbidden Instinct

by Cassandra Chandler

  And then the fog. That damned fog. Was it going to take everyone she cared about? Was that the companionship she felt on the other side?

  Her mom would be there, and soon Eden. Apparently, Darren was joining them, too.

  There was no way she was leaving him to this fate. He deserved a chance at a normal life. At any kind of life. Miranda sucked in a breath, ready to tell him not to go to that place, to avoid driving at night, to stay in his car if he hit an animal.

  The vision shifted into something that felt more like a waking dream. That had never happened before. The fog dissipated, leaving her standing in a church. She walked between the pews, heading toward a casket.

  Was this Eden’s funeral? Her own? Miranda peered inside.

  It was Jack.

  Her heart felt ready to pound out of her chest. She could barely breathe.

  How was Darren’s future tied in with Jack’s? That didn’t make any sense. She blinked and shook her head, but the vision remained. She looked around at the church, then back to the casket.

  Instead of Jack, Eden rested on the satin that lined the coffin. Her features were smooth in a way Miranda had never seen before. Her heart sank as she realized she had never seen Eden free from pain.

  Miranda willed her eyes to shut. She didn’t want to see any more. She felt Darren squeeze her hands in reality, and wondered how much time was passing as the vision took over her mind. She opened her eyes again, expecting to see him. And she did—inside the coffin.

  His long lashes were dark against bloodless cheeks. There was no ease in his expression. He looked worn, his cheeks sunken, as if whatever would happen between the present and this future had hollowed him out.

  Miranda pushed away from the vision, but she was trapped. She turned from the casket and ran toward the doors that led from the church, throwing them open and stumbling into the darkness outside. Her chest worked like a bellows. Cold air laced with ash burned its way into her lungs.

  She looked up at the sky, stars blazing bright—too bright—overhead. She saw a constellation she felt she should recognize, but then the lights jumbled and fell through the sky. Each place they landed erupted into fire. The wind carried the screams of the dying to her ears.

  “Miranda? Miranda, are you okay?”

  She blinked, the restaurant suddenly appearing around her. Her limbs felt leaden. Darren was clutching her arms, holding her upright. He had broken the connection—dropped her hands. That’s what had freed her from the vision. The vision of an apocalypse.

  An apocalypse.

  How could warning him affect the lives of so many? How could letting him suffer save others from so much pain?

  “This is the curse that comes along with your gift,” her mother had told her more than once. “Sacrifices must be made. Sometimes the only choice you’ll have is the lesser of two evils.”

  The fear and uncertainty Miranda had been feeling stopped. All of her emotions shut down. She was cold inside—numbed beyond feeling. Once again, she was sending someone she cared about to their death. Only this time, she was doing it intentionally.

  She couldn’t warn Darren. Too much was at stake. And no matter which path she chose, he was going to die.

  “I’m fine,” she lied.

  She expected fresh tears to spring to her eyes, but none came. She felt disconnected. Glancing around the restaurant, everything seemed surreal. The greens on the walls, the horseshoes and Celtic crosses. She felt like she might float up out of her body, leaving everything behind.

  “I’m taking you back to the hospital,” Darren said.

  “Why?”

  “Because you’re obviously still in shock.”

  “I don’t need a doctor,” she said.

  “Like hell you don’t.” He had risen from his chair at some point and was now squatting down in front of her.

  “I can’t afford more hospital visits.”

  “Then I’ll pay for it. I’m not going to let you—”

  He cut himself off so abruptly that it helped to bring her attention back into focus. He looked terrified. As frightened as she would feel later when all of this finally registered as real.

  “My mom died of a heart attack.” Darren’s face had grown pale and his lips were bloodless. A muscle in his jaw was started to twitch. “She didn’t listen when I told her she needed to go to the hospital. She downplayed it and said she didn’t want to cost the family money. If she’d gone in sooner…”

  Now Miranda knew what it was about the situation that was triggering him so badly. She brought a hand up to his face and trailed her fingertips along the stubble covering his cheek. Déjà vu once again assaulted her senses, making her feel even less tethered to her body.

  “I swear to you, I’m okay,” she said.

  The glower didn’t leave his expression.

  She could kiss him. Just once. What did it matter now that she knew they would both be gone so soon?

  As she started to lean forward, a strong hand clamped onto her shoulder, pushing her back to earth. She felt like she’d slammed herself down into her chair, but knew she hadn’t moved. The room stopped swirling as the scent of eucalyptus stung her nose.

  She looked up into Jack’s dark gaze. He was smiling, but the lines around his eyes were deeper than ever.

  “Everything okay out here?” he asked.

  “Yes,” she said.

  Darren spoke at the same time. “No.”

  She glared at him. The last thing she needed was the pair of them ganging up on her.

  “I think Miranda’s in shock.” Darren stood, but didn’t move away. “She should go back to the hospital.”

  Jack’s grip on her shoulder tightened and loosened a few times.

  “Bring your awareness to the bottoms of your feet,” Jack said.

  He moved his grip to the back of her neck and she closed her eyes, focusing on his touch. There was nothing sensual about it. It was just comforting and…grounding. Especially when she did as he suggested and thought about her feet. He worked on her other shoulder for a few seconds, then rested his hand there.

  “Better?” he asked.

  “Yeah,” she said. “How did you do that?”

  He shrugged. “I’ve been around a while. Picked up a few things.”

  He set a paper bag on the table and turned his attention to Darren.

  “What’s that?” Darren asked.

  “Your dinner,” Jack said. “It’s on the house today, though I am going to ask you for a favor.”

  Darren arched an eyebrow. “Which is?”

  “Miranda needs to rest. I can finish out the night shift, but I’d like you to take her home.”

  “I can work,” she said.

  “I’ll swing by your place at six-thirty tomorrow night,” Jack said. “You can work the tail end of the dinner rush before your shift to make up the time you lose tonight.”

  The dinner rush… Tips would be good. Even an hour of that shift would more than make up for her leaving the night shift a few hours early. It would be crowded, though. She’d have to be extra-careful not to touch anyone…

  But she’d be sticking Jack with working the front and back of the place and asking Darren for a favor at the same time.

  “I can’t—” she began.

  “Miranda.” Jack squeezed her shoulder again. “We just went over this. You’re not the only one who likes to help people out. Right, Mr. Calverton?”

  “Yeah, I—” Darren stiffened, then slowly stood. “How do you know my name?”

  Jack shook his head and smiled. “Let’s just say, I was in a similar line of work before I retired and opened up this place. You come in here every night carrying a piece. That caught my attention, so I did some digging.”

  Darren’s hands flexed and his arms seemed to loosen at his sides. Far from appearing more relaxed, it made him look ready for anything.

  He’d said he wasn’t a cop, but Miranda had seen his gun herself. He didn’t seem military, so that lef
t…private security?

  She remembered what his friend Scott had said about the package they were delivering. It made sense. She’d seen movies and TV shows that talked about that.

  Jack used to do something similar?

  “What do you say?” Jack asked. “Can you see Miranda safely home?”

  “Yeah,” Darren said.

  “Great.” Jack patted Miranda’s shoulder before heading back to the kitchen. He turned toward them one last time and said, “Oh, and Mr. Calverton? I am holding you responsible for her safety. Your name isn’t the only thing I know about you.”

  He winked before walking through the swinging door.

  “Wow, that was kind of cool,” she said.

  “That’s one word for it. I might have gone with ‘extremely intimidating’.”

  “That, too.”

  She did need to go home, but not to rest. This new vision was bigger than any other she’d ever had. Something huge was on the horizon.

  She couldn’t think about it now—not in front of Darren. It was too terrifying, and she didn’t want him to sense her fear. There was no way she could explain it to him.

  “Then shall we?” Darren offered her his hand.

  After what she’d seen, she was afraid to take it. She didn’t want to see anything else. Her visions were escalating too quickly.

  Instead, she rose on her own and hooked her elbow through his. They stared into each other’s eyes for a few moments.

  He was so beautiful. She wanted to take the time to commit every feature to memory. The little divot in his chin, the straightness of his nose. She wanted to run her fingers through his hair so that she knew what it felt like before…

  Before the fog came for him. Before he had to deal with the consequences of her choice—the death she had selected.

  She couldn’t let the world burn. Not even for him.

  Chapter Six

  Twenty-four hours after he’d been fired, Darren was driving through one of the worst sections of town. He cruised around slowly, keeping his eyes peeled for anything out of the ordinary.

  Every once in a while, he would let himself glance over at the empty passenger’s seat, remembering Miranda sitting there the night before.

  She’d never been in his car before. They’d never spent time together outside of the diner. Even with everything else going on in his life, knowing that he’d been able to help her—to take care of her—made his chest flood with warmth.

  As soon as this was over and his name was cleared, he was asking her out for real.

  His car pinged to let him know a call was incoming. He checked the caller ID before answering.

  “Hey, Scott.”

  “You won’t fucking believe this.” Scott sounded livid.

  “What did you find?” Darren asked.

  “You were right. The accident was staged.”

  Darren wanted to slam his fist on the steering wheel. He took a deep breath and held it for a second instead.

  As calmly as he could manage, he said, “Did the traffic cameras give you anything to go on for us to track down the driver who abandoned the vehicle?” The stolen vehicle, as they’d discovered.

  Scott was quiet for a moment before speaking. “Morrison. The guy driving the car—it was Morrison.”

  Darren’s stomach clenched. Possibilities started to take shape. Darren tried to straighten them out while keeping his mind open so he didn’t fixate on any single theory before he had more information.

  “How sure are you?” Darren asked.

  “One-hundred percent. Morrison isn’t easy to mistake for someone else, even though he was trying. I used camera footage on side streets and followed him for several blocks before he took off his hat and got into his car.”

  Even thinking the theft was an inside job, Darren hadn’t expected this.

  “Is this as bad as I think it is?” Scott said. “I mean, my mom trusts him. If he set us up, there’s no telling what else he’d do.”

  “Give me a minute.” Darren parsed through the scenarios in his head.

  Maybe Morrison wanted the company. He might think if he discredited Scott, Mrs. Ford would eventually put Morrison in charge.

  That was unlikely. She would run the company from the grave before she’d see it in someone else’s hands. Everyone knew she thought of Ford Security as a family business. She would make sure it stayed that way.

  Morrison could have been corrupted by an outside offer. Someone wanted those coins, and could have paid him to work with the hypnotist to get them.

  That scenario was more likely, but Morrison had always struck Darren as loyal to Mrs. Ford. Smitten, even. He remembered Morrison mentioning that he liked strong women and shutting others down when they said anything about her “holding up well”.

  Which reminded Darren of the work she’d had done. That was strange, too. She was already gorgeous by pretty much any standards. Why would she change her appearance? Unless she was trying to look closer to Morrison’s age.

  A new theory wormed its way into Darren’s mind. One that made his stomach twist even more.

  What if Morrison and Mrs. Ford were in it together? What if she’d been approached by someone who wanted the coins and knew their best bet was to get them in transit?

  No. No way.

  Even if she was the type to be swayed by money—which Darren was pretty sure she wasn’t—she wouldn’t risk torpedoing her company for a short-term gain. She always looked to the future.

  Still, the theory was sticking in his head. Especially with what Darren had discovered while Scott was doing his digging.

  “I’m going to confront him,” Scott said. “Let everyone know it was him and not you that’s responsible for this mess. I saved copies of the footage I used. I’ll show it to my mom and—”

  “We don’t know if Morrison’s working alone yet. We need to do more investigating.”

  “Shit. Well, shouldn’t I at least send these to my mom?”

  “No.” Darren wasn’t ready to explain that Mrs. Ford was one of his prime suspects. “Make backups and hide them, like I showed you. Don’t send anything even hinting about this through email. Don’t call your mom, don’t act weird around Morrison. Can you do that?”

  “Yeah.” He was quiet for a moment, then said, “Listen, I want you to know that I’m all-in with this case. I’m not going to let this slide.”

  “I know. And I appreciate it.”

  “What do I do after I make the backups?” Scott asked.

  “Hang tight. I’m tracking down a lead of my own. I’ll call you later and catch you up on what I find.”

  “Okay. Watch your back.”

  “You, too.” Darren ended the call.

  He couldn’t tell Scott about the lead just yet. When they’d met up earlier, Darren had been able to use Scott’s account to check on the tracking records for the company’s cars. The one trip that struck him as odd was one of the “meet-and-greet” vehicles being driven through the Old River district two days ago.

  The car was used for the lowest risk activities the company was involved in. It didn’t have bullet-proof windows or reinforced doors. The thing was probably more fiberglass than metal. Given the state of the neighborhood, it seemed an odd choice.

  Even stranger, no driver, passenger, or contract had been logged. From the GPS records, the car had pulled over to a curb and stopped briefly, then cruised around for an hour before stopping for a moment again, and heading back to company headquarters. Darren had memorized the route and was tracing it to see if he could figure out exactly where the person had been and what they had done.

  His hands clenched on the steering wheel as he scanned the buildings for… He didn’t even know what he was looking for.

  He had already driven the entire route twice. All he had seen were abandoned buildings, empty lots, and a small park. There weren’t even any vagrants around. Not so much as a stray cat.

  Which…was weird. There should have been movement. So
me signs of life, even in the middle of the night. A possum. A raccoon. A stray d—

  Something huge ran in front of his car. Darren swore and turned the wheel, slamming on his brakes. Whatever it was, it was moving too fast to avoid.

  His car lurched as they collided, metal crashing into flesh with a sickening wet thunk. His entire windshield was covered in fur for a moment as the thing rolled up his hood and over the roof of his car. Darren looked in the rearview mirror as it tumbled down to the street behind him.

  “Shit!”

  He pulled his car to the curb and jumped out, running back to see what he had hit. Instinct and habit made him draw his gun. He held it pointed at the ground as he approached where the animal should have been. All he found was a pool of blood. A large pool of blood. Paw prints led away from it toward the nearest abandoned building.

  Darren’s arms dropped to his sides. He couldn’t keep himself from saying, “Seriously?”

  What’s next?

  He walked back to his car and grabbed his keys from the ignition, then slammed the door shut and armed the alarm. He stood there for a moment, wondering if he was really doing this. Following an unknown animal that would probably bite him as soon as look at him, on the off chance that he could help it.

  Yeah, he was doing this. He had hurt it, and he would help it if he could. He pulled out his flashlight and held it above his weapon, just in case.

  The trail of red led up some steps and into what had once been a grocery store. The front windows were boarded up, but the door had been knocked off its hinges. Fresh red was smeared on the doorknob.

  Also weird.

  Darren had seen videos of animals who’d been trained to open doors. But they’d had homes with people. Opportunities to observe and practice. Which meant he had probably just hit someone’s pet.

  He imagined a little kid crying because their dog had run off. Wondering if it was okay.

  Dammit.

  He was going to find Fido and drag it to the nearest animal hospital. As soon as he figured out where that was. He just hoped he didn’t have to shoot it to get it to go along with him.

  Soft whimpering and intermittent grunts greeted his ears as Darren stepped inside. He glanced down and saw a line of red blotches on the dusty floor. Large paw prints staggered alongside the blood trail. Their shape was a little strange, but then the dog was hurt and probably having trouble walking.