“Get away!”
Melinda’s sister had described the terrible dreams to him. They usually included chasing or torturing by gruesome, relentless beasts. Sometimes both. Looked as if Holly was getting the full treatment tonight.
After a few moments, she settled down, a few shudders rippling through her body. Keane wished he could take the nightmares away from her. Take himself away so her life could return to normal. It would happen soon enough once she did something important.
Keane took in a breath and sifted it out. Quietly, like a shadow, he turned back to the open front door and slipped into the night. Only the sound of his boots crunching over the gravel driveway and the end-of-summer song of some night birds echoed through the trees. Though the days were still warm, the nights were getting cooler. Summer was definitely over and surrendering to autumn. Keane wished he could smell that seasonal change in the air, but as usual, he couldn’t enjoy even that small pleasure.
He walked his motorcycle to the end of the gravel driveway and hopped on. He started her and hoped from this distance he wouldn’t disturb Holly. Not any more than the nightmares were at least. After pulling out onto the dirt path that led to the main road, he maneuvered around holes and muddy spots created during a rainy spell earlier in the week. When he emerged onto the main road, he picked up speed and asked the wind to blow his cares away.
Under the watchful eye of the moon, he zipped around tight corners, flew down long stretches of abandoned road, and spun out on patches of sand. Juvenile, but when you can’t die, you may as well enjoy some daredevil antics when no one is looking.
Finally the hours passed and a thin line of hot pink appeared on the eastern horizon. He turned around in a parking lot and raced home.
To Holly’s home. That’s all it could ever be.
He pulled onto the driveway and cut the engine right away. Still sitting on the bike, he walked it down to where he usually parked it beside Holly’s car. He got off and decided to sit on the back porch until she left for work. Quietly, he walked around the house to the backyard. His boots kicked up demon ash from his latest kill.
On the porch swing, he was sheltered from the rising sun. He stared out over the backyard at two cardinals perched on the fence by the shed. A male and a female. The bright red male whistled a melody while the female preened her much duller feathers. The male hopped closer to the female and angled his head as he let loose another tune. The female chirped a response, and the two of them took off toward the feeder Holly maintained in the yard. As simple and ordinary as it was, a spark of jealousy ignited in him.
You’re envious of birds now? He bent forward, rested his elbow on his knees, and supported his chin in his hands.
He snapped his head up when the porch door opened.
“Oh, sorry.” Holly started to close the door.
“No,” Keane said. “I’ll go. It’s your porch.” He stood, but didn’t want to walk past her at the door. Didn’t want to get that close. He hesitated and looked to the porch steps. Sunlight beamed in full force on the wooden steps now. Going down them and around to the front door of the house was out of the question. He glanced back to the porch door.
“Stay, Keane. I don’t need to come out here. I heard the cardinals singing and…” Holly’s voice dropped off. She shrugged, backed into the house, and let the door close a bit.
“Wait.”
He gave in and walked toward her. She stepped onto the porch with a mug of tea in her hand. The long green dress she wore made her eyes a shade of green deeper than a forest in summer. One side of her hair had been gathered in a comb with a mother-of-pearl design that shimmered in the morning light. She smelled like lilacs, and Keane furrowed his brows.
“What?” Holly said. “You look confused.”
“You smell like lilacs.” He dared to take a step closer and inhaled.
“My perfume. So what?” She sipped her tea and turned to face the backyard where the male cardinal had started his singing again.
“I don’t smell things, Holly. I can see, hear, and feel, but taste and smell have been gone for centuries. The last thing I remember smelling is the burned seaweed, mead, and ginger root that the witch mixed up when she gave me the abra cadaver curse.”
“You haven’t smelled anything since then?” She leaned her backside against the porch railing and looked up at him.
He shook his head.
“What about this tea?” She held the mug out to him. “Do you smell it?”
Keane took the mug careful not to make contact with Holly’s fingers. He held the tea beneath his nose and sniffed several times. “Nothing. What kind is it?”
“Cinnamon apple. Pretty strong scent on it too.” She took the mug back and set it down on the porch railing. She took two steps closer to him and moved her hair away from her neck.
Keane took the invitation and lowered to inhale. The lilac fragrance exploded and he closed his eyes. Clenching his hands into his fists at his sides to keep from touching her, Keane let out a sigh. Holly turned her head so her lips were inches from his cheek. Heat bounced between them in a silent, lilac-filled moment.
A moment Keane didn’t want to end.
Chapter Fourteen
Holly was tired as hell. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d slept deeply. Those damn dreams never quit, and now that she was back at work, she realized just how much sleep she’d lost. She felt as if she were sleepwalking through her days.
Except for right now. Right now she felt quite awake.
Her skin tingled as Keane’s breath played along her neck. She never imagined that when she woke up this morning she’d end up standing this close to him again. All she had to do was lean forward a fraction of an inch, and her lips would be on his cheek. It wouldn’t be a far trip from there to his mouth. His full, soft lips that had once brought her great pleasure were right there. Waiting.
Before she could overanalyze the situation, she closed the distance and pressed her lips to Keane’s flesh just above where his slight beard started. His skin was hot, feverishly so, and when he shifted to touch his lips to hers, she felt that heat inside of her. His hands came to her hips, and he pulled her against him while pushing her into the porch railing. His body was a long, muscled line against hers, and Holly longed to see all of him. To touch him without clothing in her way.
Keane pulled lightly on her bottom lip, and her hands snaked up to his shoulders. She needed something to hold on to. Something to keep her from flying away on the sensations Keane’s kiss created. Between nightmares, she’d been dreaming every night about his kiss, his touch, and somehow the reality lived up to the fantasy.
Would his lovemaking be as magical?
Holly knew it would. Still kissing, she moved them toward the porch door. When her fingers closed around the doorknob, however, the phone rang inside the house. The noise was so abrupt, so loud, that Keane immediately straightened to his full height and dropped his hands from her waist. She instantly felt lost.
The phone rang again, and she was prepared to not answer it.
“Go ahead,” Keane said. He’d taken several steps back now, his eyes hardening to blue ice.
“The machine can get it.” She made a move to slide her hands up his chest, but he caught her wrists.
“Please get the phone, Holly. We can’t do this.” He set her hands by her sides and walked to the porch swing. He sat, his body facing away slightly.
“Why can’t we? I want you, Keane. Don’t you want me?” Holly didn’t like the begging in her voice.
Keane didn’t say anything as the phone rang inside. When he swiveled around to face her, his eyes were glacial.
“No.” His voice was nothing but a rasp. He cleared his throat. “No, I don’t want you.”
Holly yanked open the door and ran into the house before the tears spilled. Her mother’s voice on the answering machine filled the kitchen. She was saying something about wanting to meet Holly and Keane for dinner.
Dinner. Keane doesn’t eat dinner. He doesn’t eat, drink, or want to make love to me. That about covered it.
She stopped in her bathroom to brush her teeth and fix her tear-destroyed makeup. She gathered her papers and books from the coffee table where she had been working last night and jammed it all into her school bag. She marched out the front door without so much as a glance to the back porch. He was still out there and as far as she was concerned he could stay out there forever.
In her car, she took a few deep breaths while her fingers strangled the steering wheel. A little kissing and some general groping had totally unraveled her control.
Sweet Mary, you’re desperate. Holly slapped her cheek as if to wake herself from such stupidity. Poking the ignition with her key, she started her car and backed out of the driveway like a lunatic. Her tires churned up dirt as the car reversed. Throwing the car into drive, she wasn’t sure what she was so mad about. Kissing Keane was foolish. He’d made it clear at the beach that he didn’t want her and now he’d said the words.
Why did his kiss make it seem otherwise?
As soon as his lips had found hers, everything had been…right. As if the pieces of a puzzle had suddenly fallen into place. As if the empty places inside Holly’s soul had been filled to overflowing. Why hadn’t Keane felt the same magic? Why was she the only one?
She pulled onto the main road and drove the ten minutes to her school in total silence. Usually she blared the radio to wake her up on the ride into work, but she didn’t need that today. After having Keane’s lips on hers, she had trouble imagining ever being tired again.
Turning into the parking lot behind the school, she was surprised to find it empty. Most mornings she had to struggle for a spot that wouldn’t block the delivery trucks that used the back door of the school to unload. She glanced to the clock on her dashboard and understood the availability of parking spaces. 7:00 a.m. School didn’t officially start until 8:20 a.m. In her haste to get the hell away from Keane, Holly had left an entire hour earlier than usual.
“Well, you’re here now, moron. May as well make use of the time.”
She hauled her bag out of the passenger seat and, key in hand, approached the side door all the teachers used. As she unlocked the door, a rustling in the woods behind the school caught her attention. She stepped back and peered into the dense trees. A streak of neon yellow whizzed by, a child’s howl following it.
Holly dropped her schoolbag by the door and ran toward the sound. About fifty yards into the woods, she found a little boy, probably about second grade, who was crying and holding his knee.
“What happened?” she kneeled beside the boy.
He snapped his head up and skittered away from her.
“Don’t be afraid. Do you go to this school?” She pointed over her shoulder where the dim outline of the school could still be seen. The boy nodded. “Okay, okay. I’m Miss Brimmer. I teach fifth grade. You’ve seen me before, right?”
The boy squinted his eyes and nodded again.
“What’s your name?”
“Logan Saphy.”
“What happened that made you scream, Logan? Did you hurt yourself?” Holly motioned to his hands still clutching at his knee.
“Someone was chasing me and I fell.” Logan let her pull his hands from his knee. A small gouge, nothing major.
“Who was chasing you? A friend?” She scanned the woods. Something thrashed through the brush in the distance to her right.
Logan shook his head. “No, it was a man.”
Warning bells blared in her skull as an image of the wanted Alan Hendrick flashed in HD clarity in her mind. “Do you live around here?” She dug her cell phone out of her pocket and turned it on.
“Down the street with Gran.”
“Can you walk?”
Logan got to his feet and nodded.
“C’mon. I’ll take you home.”
Holly held out her hand, but Logan just stared at it. “But it’s almost time for school, and Miss Pinni promised I could use the tambourine today in music class.”
She smiled. “Is that why you’re at school so early, Logan?
“Yep. I couldn’t wait to play the tambourine. Gran didn’t even see me leave the house.”
“I see. Well, I’m sure the tambourine will be waiting for you. I think you need to make a quick stop home first and get that knee cleaned up.”
With a glance at the spot of dripping blood on his knee, Logan took Holly’s hand. As they walked, she dialed 911 and reported the description of the man Logan had given her. A description matching the wanted poster of Hendrick.
After delivering Logan to his grandmother and explaining the situation, Holly walked back to school. The parking lot was littered with police cars and as soon as she approached, a uniformed officer walked over to her.
“Are you Miss Holly Brimmer?” he asked, glancing down at the notebook in his hand.
“Yes.” She sent a wary glance to the woods. About ten police officers wearing bulletproof vests trampled through the leaves, and those were just the ones she could see. Judging from the number of cars in the lot, she guessed at least ten more officers were searching deeper in the woods. A full body shudder rippled through her, and the officer put a hand on her arm.
“If Hendrick is still in there, they’ll find him,” he said.
Holly nodded, but had an overwhelming urge to drive home and…drive home and what? Ask Keane to protect her? Ask him to hold her?
Fat chance.
She let out a huff, annoyed for thinking of Keane when she was a bit scared. She couldn’t depend on him. He wanted nothing to do with her. He’d be gone the moment she did something important. He didn’t care what happened to her.
“I’m Officer Jensen McDonahue. Is the boy home now?”
Holly focused on the officer’s face. He was about her age with red hair almost the same color as hers. His blue eyes were surrounded by freckles and though he had an innocent look, Holly was sure he’d seen some action. Something in the set of his mouth told her he’d been hot on the trail of bastards like Hendrick many times before.
“Yes, I took Logan home to his grandmother. She was going to bandage his scraped knee and, on Logan’s insistence, drop him off here so he wouldn’t miss music class.”
Officer McDonahue laughed. “Music class used to be my favorite too. It’s where I fell in love with the piano.” He shrugged and wiggled his notebook. “Can I have a number where I can reach you if we need to ask further questions?”
She gave him her cell phone, school, and home numbers. As he walked away, the principal pulled into the lot. She marched over to Holly.
“Holly, did you see him?” Mrs. Veraca threw a death glare toward the woods. The police should let the principal loose in there. Holly had seen Mrs. Veraca handle students who made poor choices in school. Hendrick wouldn’t stand a chance in her office.
“No, I didn’t see him,” Holly said. “Logan Saphy did.”
“Oh, the poor dear.” Mrs. Veraca rubbed her temples.
Holly laid a hand on the principal’s shoulder. “The important thing is that Hendrick didn’t get his hands on Logan. The boy screamed and ran like the wind. We’ll have to thank Mr. Jarmon for whipping these kids into shape in gym class.”
Mrs. Veraca’s lips turned up for a brief moment, and Holly was happy to have lightened the mood a little. “It’s a good thing you were here. What a disaster this could have been.” The principal tossed one more glance to the woods. “C’mon. It’s too late to cancel school so the superintendent asked for a police guard until Hendrick is caught. I assume many parents are going to have something to say about this.” She rubbed her temples again.
“Remember when all we had to do was teach the children?” Holly said.
“I know. I taught in poor cities where conditions were bad,” Mrs. Veraca said. “I moved here because it seemed like utopia. I guess there is no such thing anymore.” Her shoulders lowered slightly as she walked toward the
school.
Holly followed, but a part of her hoped utopia did exist. Maybe not for her, but for someone.
Chapter Fifteen
Keane finally got up from the porch swing and went into the house. Holly’s tires had peeled out of the driveway at least an hour ago, but he hadn’t had the energy to move.
Why am I so tired all of a sudden? He was never tired. Never had the urge to crawl into bed and sleep, but today he felt like doing exactly that. He never got sick so it couldn’t be that he was coming down with something. He never ate so he wasn’t weak from lack of nutrition.
What the hell is my problem?
Inside the house, the scent of lilacs hit him again, and he stopped in the kitchen. Something was terribly wrong, and yet, at the same time, a wave of hope crashed over him. If he could suddenly smell, if he were actually experiencing some form of fatigue, what other purely human abilities might come back to him? And did he want them to?
Pushing the smell of lilacs—of Holly—out of his mind, he headed for the couch in the living room. Some mindless television watching would keep him from thinking too much.
He settled into the cushions, and the first thing to pop into his mind was Holly. How she had been sleeping in the spot where he now sat. How she’d looked so soft and angelic in her slumber.
“Pull it together, man.” He shook his head and turned on the television. He bolted upright when the very person he was trying to purge himself of appeared on the screen.
“I’m here live with Miss Holly Brimmer, fifth grade teacher at Apple Hill Elementary School,” a reporter said. “You rescued a child being pursued by a man fitting the description of Alan Hendrick, known pedophile. Is that right, Miss Brimmer?”
The camera zoomed in on Holly’s beautiful face. Something hot stirred inside him at the sight of her.
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