Supernova (Supernova Saga)

by Parker, C. L.

  Dominic was tuning his guitar when she reached the top of the steps.

  “You know, I think you just might be obsessed with that thing.”

  He looked toward her, and his concentrated expression fell when he saw her in his shirt. He was awestruck and couldn’t even force words out of his mouth in response. He was held in a trance by the vision of the woman in front of him. And she was all woman.

  Kerrigan bit her bottom lip and went to sit next to him on the futon. “Play something for me?”

  He had no intention of embarrassing himself by playing, but when she placed her hand on his knee and gave it a squeeze, all bets were off. She was sitting there with her wet hair thrown over her shoulder, adorned in his very thin shirt that left nothing to the imagination. She couldn’t have been sexier if she tried.

  “We need to talk, Kerrigan.” Dominic’s voice was deep and husky.

  She arched her back and pressed her chest against his arm as her fingertips ghosted through the hair on the back of his neck. “Just one song,” she purred into his ear. Her warm breath spilled over his skin, causing his sensitive flesh to pebble and a chill to run down his spine.

  Dominic reached beside him and turned the stereo off before settling his guitar in a comfortable position. He strummed it a couple of times, thinking about what to play.

  “I’m really not very good, but there is this one song that just keeps playing over and over again in my head,” he said with an uncomfortable chuckle. “It kind of reminds me of someone special.”

  Kerrigan gave him an encouraging smile and crossed her legs with her hands cupped together between them.

  Dominic cleared his throat and began moving his fingers along the neck of the guitar with each chord change while picking the strings with purpose. When he started singing, Kerrigan recognized the song right off as Jason Manns’ Crazy Love. His voice was bluesy. Soulful with a raw, raspy edge. Lust, as it turned out, was the perfect description of his sound. Kerrigan found the need to sit on her hands to keep herself from launching a savage attack and ripping his clothes to shreds.

  He stuck his chin out and sang with closed eyes. He felt every word he sang like they were a map to his soul. Kerrigan wanted to touch his jaw and feel the muscles moving under her fingertips. She wanted to lick the defined lines of the flexing tendons in his forearms. But most of all, she wanted to let her lips hover over his to feel them moving to form the words, inhale the breath of each lyric he sang, and taste the lust that spilled forth from the cavern of sin.

  She was in a weird sort of hypnotic trance by the time Dominic strummed the last chord and looked into her eyes. His shockingly pale green orbs were overshadowed by raw emotion. His gaze, intense and penetrating and it shook her foundation.

  Kerrigan didn’t know what to say. How does one follow up such an awesome spectacle as Dominic had just put on with mere words?

  “You…take my breath away.” It was the truth.

  Dominic gave her a sexy smirk and stuck his pearl-blue pick behind the strings on the neck of the guitar. He perched it against the stereo stand with care before turning the music back on. When he turned around to face her, Kerrigan gave him a gentle smile and rose to her feet. Dominic thought she meant to walk away, so he reached out for her, not wanting her to leave. They had things to discuss, and he wanted to get it over with, rip the Band-Aid off in one quick motion.

  But she wasn’t leaving. She turned around and stood between his legs instead, smiling down at him. The glow of the overhead light shined down on her, reflecting off her mahogany tendrils and creating a halo effect.

  “Whatever it is that you have to tell me, it won’t change the way I feel about you.” She reached her hand out and slowly ran the back of her fingers over his beard. “I’m pretty crazy about you, too, ya’ know.”

  Because it might have been his last opportunity to do so, Dominic wrapped his arms around her waist and hugged her to him. The side of his face rested sensually against her stomach, and he inhaled her scent. Kerrigan placed one hand to the back of his head and held him to her while raking the fingers of the other hand through his thick, jet-black waves. The action was so soothing, loving. Dominic may have even teared up a little on the inside. But he would never let her see that. No one had ever seen him cry. No one.

  Dominic turned his lips toward her stomach and placed a kiss to her bare skin. The top of her birthmark peeked out from the top of her little blue shorts, and he slowly lowered them to reveal it more fully. It was uncanny how similar their marks were. Where his was raised like a scar, hers was smooth as a freckle. He didn’t know how it was possible, but it was something they shared. That had to mean something. Dominic parted his lips and kissed her mark. He wanted to see if it would have the same effect on her as it did on him when she did the same.

  A sound like that of a contented kitten’s purr escaped Kerrigan’s chest, and she grasped his hair tightly between her fingers. Dominic smiled, having gotten an answer to his unspoken question. He would have to remember that for later. If there was indeed a later after he told her what he needed her to know.

  With a great deal of reluctance, he pulled away. “We have to talk.” He patted her place beside him on the futon. “Sit.”

  Kerrigan took her seat, and Dominic stood, grabbing a cigarette from the pack that lay on top of his stereo. “Do you mind?” he asked out of common courtesy.

  She shook her head.

  Dominic walked over to the open window and perched his foot on the windowsill, lighting his cigarette. Looking out into the star-filled night, he inhaled the nicotine deeply to steady his nerves before exhaling the smoke through his nose. He was stalling, trying to find the words to tell her.

  Sensing his hesitation, Kerrigan stood and walked over to him. She traced the pattern of the tribal tattoo over his neck and placed a kiss to his shoulder. “Just say it, Dominic.”

  He turned his head to the side and looked down at her before giving her an uneasy smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. He was nervous. Kerrigan could see it written all over his face and feel it in his taut muscles. He may have even been shaking.

  “What are you afraid of? That I’ll go running and screaming from the room?” she asked with a light chuckle.

  “That’s exactly what I’m afraid of.” He took another long draw off his cigarette and flicked the ashes out the window.

  “Yeah, well, I don’t scare that easily.”

  A loud crash sounded from the lower floor, causing Kerrigan to jump a little, startled. Dominic chuckled minutely, her claim having been proved false.

  She sighed. “It’s Millie. You finish your cigarette, and I’ll go get him before he destroys something.”

  Dominic nodded and turned back toward the window.

  Once she made it to the bottom of the stairs, Kerrigan called out for Millie. She heard a faint scratching noise and then a whimper, but it sounded more like it was coming from her room instead. That was odd because she could have sworn the crash came from the lower floor.

  She heard a creak behind her and she turned, expecting to see Gabe. But it wasn’t Gabe.

  A figure, dressed all in black with a ski mask over his face, emerged from the shadows and lunged at her. His hand covered her mouth, muting the scream she attempted to sound to alert Dominic. The figure picked her up, so she couldn’t run, and backed up with her. She tried to kick and swing to get out of his grasp, but his hold was too tight. He was already moving toward the front door with her in tow. She was dragged from of the house and out to the street before she was shoved into the backseat of a car.

  Kerrigan heard Millie’s barks from her balcony, and she hoped it would be enough to get Dominic’s attention. One glimpse at his bedroom window, and she knew it had. There stood Dominic, leaning dangerously over the edge of his balcony with a panicked expression on his face. The car sped off. She pressed her hand to the window to reach out to him just as a piercing pain shot from the back of her head and radiated forward. She sank
into darkness, helpless to do anything but watch Dominic fade from view.

  A terror stricken Dominic flew down the stairs and through the house until he found himself standing in the middle of the front yard staring after red taillights. Instinct kicked in. He ran after it, his bare feet smacking the asphalt as fast as they could, but the car faded from sight. It may have been too fast for him to keep up with on bare feet, but it didn’t matter. He knew where they were going.

  His heart pounded in his chest, and he felt winded. Not because of the physical exertion. It was because they had his girl, his world.

  A raven swooped down and screeched its warning caw as it took off after the vehicle. He didn’t need to see that telltale sign to know who was in that car. Sinclair was behind Kerrigan’s kidnapping. He swore to God that when he caught up to them, he was going to kill her. Once and for all.

  Gabe ran out onto the porch in his sleepwear. “What in the name of Ricky-Martin-finally-coming-out-of-the-closet is going on!?” he screeched.

  “They took her.” Dominic’s reply was short. He stormed past him and back into the house.

  “Wait, what? Who took her?” Gabe asked, scurrying behind him. Dominic took two steps at a time back to his room, ignoring him.

  “Dominic, stop!” he yelled.

  Dominic turned to face him. His chest heaved in anger. The look on his face made Gabe take a couple of steps back from him in fear. He didn’t mean to take his anger and frustration out on him, but he needed to get to her, and Gabe was only slowing him down.

  “First of all, don’t you look at me in that tone of voice,” Gabe said, waving his finger in the air as he rolled his head on his shoulders. He walked back toward Dominic and put his hands on his hips. “And secondly, who took my Kerr Bear?”

  “Don’t worry, I’m going to bring her back,” he said without answering his question.

  Dominic grabbed his Doc Martins and slipped them on, not even bothering with a shirt. He scribbled something down on the notepad from his dresser and ripped the top sheet off, giving it to Gabe. “If Kerrigan isn’t back by tomorrow morning, call this number and ask to speak to Ricardo. He’ll know what to do.”

  He grabbed his keys and Kerrigan’s cell phone and ran back down the stairs. Gabe ran after him with his limp wrists flailing in the air and Millie jumping at his feet.

  “Tell me where you’re going, and I’ll rally the troops and meet you there!” Gabe called after Dominic as he headed toward the garage. He was a man on a mission.

  “I’ve got this, Gabe. Just wait here, and I’ll bring her back,” he called back and then disappeared into the garage.

  A moment later, the roar of an engine echoed through the night air. The Barracuda pulled out of the garage, peeled out of the driveway, and shot like a bullet down the street. Once on the road, Dominic pulled out Kerrigan’s cell phone and dialed a number he knew by heart even though it had been over a year since he had done so.

  “Who is this, and how did you get my number?” the thick Latin accent answered.

  “Ricardo, it’s me, Dominic. I know it’s been a while, but I need your help.”

  “Dom! Dios mio, I thought you were muerto,” Ricardo chuckled.

  “I know. I’m sorry, but some pretty heavy shit has been going down, and I’ve had to lay low for a while,” Dominic said, hoping the pleasantries would end soon so they could get down to business.

  “No worries, socio. You’ve always been very loyal to me. So tell me. How can I help?”

  Dominic exhaled, relieved that he could depend on his mentor. He was probably the only person, outside of Availia and Kerrigan, he felt like he could trust. He gave Ricardo the short version of what happened, leaving out the details he knew would be hard to swallow, even for a superstitious fool like him. Ricardo had always had his eye on Dominic’s Colt 1911, so he offered it in exchange for his guarantee that he if he received a phone call from Gabe saying that Kerrigan hadn’t shown up, he would take care of Sinclair and her entire coven.

  “I will unleash a fury such as they have never known. Every one of them, muerto by nightfall. You have my word, consorte,” Ricardo assured him.

  Dominic gave him instructions on where he could find the gun and bid his acquaintance farewell. He had very little time before the stroke of midnight, and although he was sure he would still be able to drive the car, he didn’t really want to risk his baby. Not to mention, anyone passing him on the street at that late hour would surely think they had lost their mind.

  Kerrigan was trapped. Her mind, once opened to worlds where inexplicable and extraordinary things could and had happened, had become her prison. There was no Light to be found, only darkness. There were no miracles, no magic, no fantasies, but most frightening of all, there was no Dominic. Mentally, she pushed and strained against the confines of the darkness, hoping to find some light, struggling to find him.

  She had no idea how long she had been in that state, but it felt like forever. She could hear muffled voices in the distance, but none of them were the deep, sultry voice she depended on to lead her to him, the source of her inner Light. The voices were talking about her. She could clearly hear her name. One female and one male. She thought she recognized the man’s voice, but she wasn’t coherent enough to be sure.

  She couldn’t see, she could only barely hear, but her other senses were heightened. Her skin was coated in a light sheen of wetness. She had lived in Chicago long enough to recognize the feeling. It was like walking through a low-lying cloud, a dense fog.

  A hand brushed the hair off of her neck before a warm breath blew across the shell of her ear. “Wake up, my little piggy bank.” Kerrigan nearly puked in her mouth at the odor that assaulted her olfactory sense. If she dove headfirst into a dumpster full of fish heads and chum, the stench wouldn’t be as torturous.

  She didn’t have to see him to know who it was. She would know that stench anywhere.

  “Jackson, you must have one hell of a death wish. Dominic is going to kill you when he gets his hands on you.”

  “Oh, I don’t think so,” the female voice sang. “I mean, I’m definitely hoping he’ll try, because that means he’d have to be here to attempt it. But, I’m pretty sure I can handle him.”

  Every muscle in Kerrigan’s body tensed as she struggled against the restraints that were holding her in place. She knew that voice almost as well as she knew the stench of Jackson’s breath. It had been embedded in her mind since the night of the bonfire. The question was: What were they doing there together?

  “You can take the stupid blindfold off. It’s not like I don’t know who you are.”

  She felt fine hairs pulling at the back of her neck while clumsy fingers worked on the knot of the blindfold until it fell away. Kerrigan blinked her eyes a few times to adjust to the sparse light. Jackson was in her face, breathing on her with his mouth partially opened, his own face hideously swollen and bruised.

  “Don’t worry, Kerri, baby.” He smiled at her. “It’s not as bad as it looks. I’ll be back to my handsome self in no time. Did you have a nice nap?”

  “What are you doing here, Jackson?” She yanked her head back in a fruitless effort to avoid his putrid breath. Her hands and feet were tied together in front of her, or she would have kicked him in his fake face and maybe cause a little more damage.

  Jackson backed away, allowing her to take a much needed breath of fresh air. She looked around, finding she was surrounded by headstones of different sizes and shapes. She was sitting on the ground, the grass not quite wet, but she could feel the dampness of the mist that had settled on it seep through the thin material of her shorts. Her back was pressed against a tree, the bark scraping her skin through Dominic’s wife beater. There was a platform grave marker in front of her with candles stationed at each corner like an altar. The name Drake D’Mon was carved sharply into the hard granite. She knew that name, yet she couldn’t quite place where she knew it from.

  “A graveyard, Jackson? You brought me
to a graveyard?” She snorted. “You couldn’t have been any more cliché if you took me to an abandoned warehouse. Untie me.”

  “The graveyard was my idea.” Sinclair slinked up next to Jackson and ran her black nails through the hair on the top of his head as if he were her child. “Actually, it was pretty much a requirement for the deal Jackson and I made.”

  “What deal? Jackson, what the hell is she talking about?”

  “I came for you,” Jackson said, leaning into Sinclair’s touch. “I came to get you back. I lost everything when I went back to Chicago. My job, my car…everything. And it was all your fault! You owe me. I put way too much time and effort into you to let you leave me empty-handed!”

  “There, there, Jackson,” Sinclair cooed. She turned back to Kerrigan. “I found Jackson, beaten and bruised, on your front lawn. He looked like he could use a friend, and I felt sorry for him. When I asked him what happened, he told me all about how you discarded him and left him without a penny to his name. Then, to add insult to injury, you got your new lover to beat him within an inch of his life.”

  Sinclair clicked her tongue at Kerrigan in a chastising manner. “That wasn’t very nice of you. You Cruz women act all high and mighty, like you can do no wrong, yet here you are, breaking this poor man’s heart and inflicting physical pain on him. Violence is never the answer, Kerrigan.”

  “You would’ve come back to me if it wasn’t for that asshole!” Jackson spat, his face twisted in disgust. “I was willing to take you back and forget any of this ever happened between us. Instead of minding his own business, that freak seduced you and turned you against me. I’m not leaving here without you.”

  Kerrigan tried to reason with him. “Jackson, even if Dominic wasn’t in the picture, I still wouldn’t leave. I don’t want to be with you. Why can’t you understand that and just move on?”

  “Because you owe me!” he yelled at the top of his lungs. Kerrigan jumped, startled. “When we’re done here, you’re leaving with me. First thing in the morning, we’re going to go by your bank, you’re going to withdraw everything, and then you and I are going to elope and disappear forever.”