The boy’s grin widened. “Nothing. I was just playing with these marbles, and then I was going to bat a few balls, but I had no one to play with. Perhaps you could throw me some, seeing that you’re here.”
“Go to your room,” Cain said. “I’ll deal with you later.”
The boy shrugged. With a hateful glance at Ivan, he climbed the stairs.
Maya and Ivan hurried to Cain’s side.
Cain smoothed his hands over Olivia’s body, checking for injuries. “Nothing seems to be broken.” He was careful not to move her until he was certain she had no fractures. “She may have concussion.”
“Shall I call Eve?” Ivan asked, his brow furrowed.
“Yes.” Cain lifted Olivia in his arms. Instead of carrying her upstairs, he laid her down on the sofa. He didn’t trust Godfrey’s child near her.
Maya lifted her eyes to the landing. “What the hell was that?”
“That’s Godfrey’s clone,” Cain said tightly.
“Not the child,” she said, “the aggressive behavior.”
“Attempted murder.”
Maya gaped at him. “Thank God Ivan offered to drive me here. I don’t think you would’ve reached the brat in time to stop him.”
His sentiment exactly.
Ivan returned from the kitchen where he’d made the call. “Eve is on her way.”
His words were scarcely cold when a chorus of alarms rang shrill through the house. Bells, chimes, and whistles of every kind sounded from up and downstairs.
“What the––?” Ivan covered his ears, turning in a circle.
The television screen flickered on. The laptop booted up. From every monitor, a single message flashed.
I’m watching you.
“Holy fuck.” Ivan flinched. “Is this what happened last night?”
“Maya, can you shut it down?” Cain said over the noise.
“I’m getting there.” Maya had activated her wrist pad and was typing in something.
A few seconds later, the noise stopped. Only the words still screamed at them.
“It’s a good thing I linked all the devices to a central operating system I can control from my wrist pad last night,” Maya said.
Cain clenched his hands at his sides. “Find out where the message is coming from. I want to know who’s behind this.”
“I’ll see if I can trace a source that can give us a hint,” Maya said.
Ivan’s shoulders rose and fell with a deep breath. “That won’t be necessary. I know who it’s from.”
Maya looked at him with a raised brow. “You do?”
“It’s from a spirit.”
“Who?” Cain asked.
“Angelique.”
“As in Godfrey’s late wife?” Maya asked.
Ivan gave a solemn nod. “Yes.”
“Why would she threaten Olivia?” Maya glanced at Cain. “Or is it a joke because you stalked her?”
“It’s hardly a joke.” Cain walked to the window and looked out over the ocean. Taxi boats sped across the sea, drawing crisscrossing lines over the flat surface of the water. “Can you find out, Ivan?”
“I can try. I need someplace tranquil,” Ivan said. “I’ll use the kitchen.”
“Take as long as you need.” Cain turned to Maya. “Will you watch over Olivia until Eve gets here? I’m going to talk to the boy.”
“Sure.” Maya took the chair next to the sofa. “What’s the plan? He’s only a child, but he’s dangerous.”
The weight of the decision pushed down on him. “I’m going to have to lock him up.”
“Like juvenile prison?”
“I need him closer to me.”
Understanding flickered across Maya’s face. They’d have to monitor the child.
“This is a shit situation,” she mused.
“You have no idea.”
He reset the devices to clear the message as far as he went. The last thing Olivia needed was to wake up to this. When he got to the boy’s room, he knocked.
No answer.
He knocked again. “We have to talk.” This thing about being nameless had to end. He had to call the child something. “If you don’t open the door, I’m coming in.”
Nothing.
Fine. He turned the knob, expecting the door to be locked, but it swung open. An empty room greeted him. For a heartbeat, he stood rooted to the spot. The doors opening onto the balcony were open. He rushed outside and peered down. There was a creeper growing on a lattice and a gutter pipe. It would’ve been easy to climb down. He glanced up and down the street, but there was no movement, no one running on the curb or dashing behind a tree. No thoughts lashed at him. Cursing under his breath, he ran from the room and yanked open every door on the upper level until he was certain the child wasn’t hiding elsewhere.
“Maya,” he called, sprinting down the stairs, “activate every free satellite and alert the team on watch. The boy’s gone.”
Ivan exited from the kitchen, shaking his head. “I’m sorry, but I couldn’t connect with Angelique.”
“Try again,” Cain gritted out.
“You know how it works. A spirit won’t let itself be forced.”
A message pinged on Ivan’s wrist pad. He lifted it to his face. “Eve’s here.”
Cain walked to the door to let her in. “Ivan, get back to Alice and Clara. I don’t know what’s going on and until I do we’ll assume the threat isn’t over. Maya, you can return with Ivan. I’ll reset the devices. Focus on tracking the boy.”
Maya got to her feet. “Got it.”
Eve entered as Ivan and Maya left.
“Where is she?”
“Through here.” Cain let the way.
“What happened?”
“She fell down the stairs. It looks as if she knocked her head on a step.”
Eve flipped open a doctor’s case. “I’ll take care of her.”
While Eve was examining Olivia, he reset the devices on the ground level and secured all the windows and doors. After he’d done a full round of the house, he returned to the lounge to find Eve closing her doctor’s bag.
“She’ll be fine,” Eve said. “She may have a few bruises and light concussion, but nothing’s broken.” She left a bottle of pills on the table. “Here’s a painkiller if her head or body hurts.”
He exhaled in relief. Damn that child. Olivia could’ve broken her neck. “I’ll walk you out.”
At the door, she paused. “Clara is developing at an astounding rate.”
“I’ve noticed.” He couldn’t help the worry from slipping into his voice. He made an effort at humor. “At least I’ll see her graduate before I die.”
“I’ll be honest,” the lines around her eyes softened, “I didn’t think I’d ever see you again. It’s good to have you back.” She patted him on the shoulder before making her way to the car.
Back in the lounge, he found Olivia awake. She looked at him, her features awash with confusion, and tried to lift onto her elbows.
He moved to her side and gently pushed her down. “Easy. You took a big fall.”
At the word fall the frown on her brow smoothed out and her eyes grew round. “Oh, God, Cain. I think he did it on purpose.”
Sitting down on the edge of the sofa, he took her hand. “I know he did.”
She blinked twice, but it didn’t stop the tears from swimming in her eyes. “He’s just a child.”
“Not any child.”
“Where is he?” she asked softly.
He took a deep breath. “He ran away.”
“What?” She jackknifed into a sitting position. “Ouch.” Wincing, she placed a hand on her forehead.
“Easy. You may have concussion.” He reached for the tablets and put two in her hand. “I’ll get you some water.”
He fetched a bottle from the fridge and removed the cap before holding it to her lips.
“Thank you,” she said when she’d swallowed the pills, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand.
&nbs
p; “You’re welcome.”
“What do you mean he ran away?”
He tried to be gentle, but his voice was harsh. “I caught him hovering over you with a cricket bat.” There was no easy way to say this. “I knew his intention. I could read it in his mind.” He shook thinking of what could’ve happened had Ivan not arrived. “I told him to put down the bat.”
She bit her lip, giving him a sad look. “He didn’t.”
“No, he didn’t. Ivan had to manipulate his spirit. I asked him to wait in his room, and when I got there he was gone.”
“We have to find him.”
“My team is on the lookout. If anyone will find him, they will.” He paused, choosing his words carefully. “He’s unstable and dangerous. You do understand that he can’t live here with you, not after what happened.”
Pinching her eyes shut, she wiped her fingers over her brow. When she opened them again, the tears were back. “Yes, I understand.” She gripped his fingers. “He needs help, Cain.”
“I’ll give him all the help I can get.”
“What are you suggesting?” Fear crept into her expression. “You’re not going to send him to juvenile prison, are you?”
He brushed a hand over her hair. “Don’t worry. I’ll keep him close to me.”
Her body melted back into the sofa, some of the tenseness leaving her shoulders. “He must hate me.”
“Why do you say that?”
“He left those beads on the stairs, hoping I’d fall.” She hesitated.
He sensed there was more than what she was telling him. “What happened before you fell?”
“I walked out of the shower, naked, and he was standing there. I have no idea how long he’d been watching me. When I confronted him, he told me he’d chosen a name.” Her big, cornflower-colored eyes were filled with sadness when she lifted them to his face. “He wants me to call him Adam.”
“Olivia.” He sat down and pulled her into his lap. “I’m sorry.” He knew she’d had her heart set on raising the child.
She rested her cheek against his chest. “I don’t understand why he hates me.”
“I don’t think it’s got anything to do with hate.”
“Then why would he do something like this? Why would he deliberately hurt me?”
“Cruelty.”
She pushed away to look at him. “Do you honestly believe that?”
“How can you still have a doubt after this morning?”
She remained quiet.
“There’s something else you should know,” he said carefully. “We figured out who sent the message from last night.” In her fragile state, it was better to omit that it had happened again this morning. He weighed his words, worried about the effect they’d have on her.
“Who?” she prompted.
“Angelique.”
Her breath caught. “Godfrey’s late wife? That Angelique?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“I don’t know.”
Her beautiful features were carved into a painful expression. One by one, her facial muscles relaxed. He could almost see her take back control of the situation. Slowly, she pushed to her feet, her narrow back straight.
Just in case she wasn’t strong enough not to fall over, he held onto her hand. “How do you feel?”
“Much better, thank you.” She made a weak attempt at smiling. “I don’t often take allopathic medicine, so whatever you gave me has a strong effect on my nervous system.”
“I think you should sit down.”
“I’m done sitting on my ass.”
“Where are you going?” he asked when she turned for the door.
“To build a fire.”
Olivia watched as flames fed by combustible paint, oil, canvas, and wood leapt into the air. She sat on the beach at the bottom of the cliff next to Cain. Instead of deriving pleasure from burning painting after painting, she only felt a sense of finality as each of Godfrey’s faces turned to ash.
The sun was setting over the sea. To be honest, she was glad this day was almost over. Cain had insisted on cooking her lunch and that she took a nap in the afternoon before allowing her to come out to make her fire. With his team’s help, he’d carried all the paintings from her studio down to the beach and left her to strike the match. He’d watched her throw portrait after portrait into the flames. All the while, he’d said nothing. She appreciated the silence. It was something she’d needed.
As the last frame glowed red in the coals, he pulled her head down on his shoulder. “Did it give you closure?”
“Yes.”
His arm came around her, pulling her tighter to his side. “There’s something I have to tell you.”
She turned her face to him.
“I broke into your studio,” he said.
“Why?” she gasped. “You said you wouldn’t.”
“I regret it, but I didn’t know where your loyalty lay, and I desperately wanted insight into your mind.”
“So you thought my paintings would give you that insight.”
“Yes. I have to admit, I was confused when I saw what you were working on. It made me think that, more than loving Godfrey, you were obsessed with him.”
She chuckled. “I can see why you’d think that.”
“Why did you paint so many of the same portrait?”
She leaned into his heat, allowing his warmth to thaw the coldness that refused to leave her body. “When Godfrey and I first got married, I offered him a portrait. It was a painting of how I saw him at the time, before he showed me his true colors. It was the face of a good and gentle man. He wanted me to replicate it, but I couldn’t. Once I’d learned the truth about who he really was, I couldn’t paint him with that same adoring light. Every time I finished the portrait, he’d come and take it away, and make me start another one.” She gave a wry laugh. “He always said he’d let me go if I got it right.”
He rubbed her arm. “Why did he want another portrait if he already had one that was perfect?”
It was the very question she’d posed countless times. “Vanity? Proof that I could love him again? That he was worth loving?” She sighed in frustration. “I don’t know.”
“It’s over,” he whispered in her hair, planting a kiss on her temple. “Will you forgive me for compromising your privacy?”
She nudged him playfully. “As if you haven’t compromised it in every other way possible.”
“Still,” his face remained serious, “can you forgive me?”
“I don’t mind you snooping around in my studio.” She stared into the flames. “I just didn’t want you or anyone else to see what I was forced to do.”
“Thank you. I promise to never do that again.” He leaned his head against hers. “I know your life has changed drastically and it’s not the best moment to ask, but I have to go back to New York soon.”
“Ask what?”
He gripped her chin and turned her face toward him. “I want you to come with me.”
“To New York?”
“Yes.”
She looked back over her shoulder at the house that had been both her haven and prison for the last few years. It was difficult to explain how she felt. Parting with it, leaving Brazil, would be both hard and a relief.
“We’ll start over,” he said. “We’ll sell my apartment and your house and find something we both like. Even better, we’ll build from scratch, a new place without ghosts or memories, a place that’s just us.”
She liked the sound of that.
“You can open a gallery,” he continued, “or continue painting in your studio. I’ll cook and you’ll pack the dishwasher while you tell me about your day.”
“Tell me more,” she said, buying into the fantasy.
“We’ll get up at sunrise and work out in the gym. I’ll drag your sweaty body to the shower and make love to you in ten different ways. We’ll have breakfast together, and then we’ll go our separate ways to start our day. I’ll go to the office and
miss you like crazy. So much so that I’ll make a lunch reservation just to see you for another hour. One hour will slip into two, because touching you under the table at lunch would get out of control and we’d have to get a room at the hotel next door. I’d drive you back to your studio and leave you with a passionate kiss. We’d meet at home after work and have a swim to cool down. I’d pour you a Caipirinha because it’s your favorite cocktail and you’ll put on a red dress for me. I’d take you dancing just because I like feeling you in my arms. I’ll go to your art events and you’ll come to my team weekends. We’ll spend summer in Paris and winter in Morocco. You’ll tie my tie and take off your panties under your dress because I like you naked.” His fingers trailed up the inside of her thigh, accentuating the vision his words evoked. “Will that work for you?”
God, yes. She loved the picture he was painting.
“I think I may need more,” she whispered.
He brushed his thumb over the silk that covered the juncture of her legs. “Like this more?”
“You may have to be a bit more persuasive.”
The pressure he put on her clit made her moan.
“If my words aren’t convincing enough, I could make an impression with my actions.” He flipped her down in the sand, his strong body covering hers. His gaze ran over her face, his expression serious. “I only want to make you happy, but I’ll admit to having selfish motivations. I want you all to myself.” His mouth lowered to hers, his breath tickling her skin. “I want to share your joy, sadness, and fears. I want you to be you. I want you to change and grow however you need, knowing I’ll love you for who you are now and whoever you’ll become. I want you to chase your dreams and live your life, knowing I’ll always be there for you. I want you to come with me so you can be free. I want you to have everything, and I want everything that’s you. Will you give me a chance?”
She snaked her arms around his neck. “Those are pretty convincing words.” The most beautiful a man had ever said to her.
“Is that a yes?”
“I never stood a chance, Cain Jones. Not with you.”
He crushed their lips together, taking her mouth with a brutal kiss. There was a chance that his team would be watching, keeping them safe, but Cain read her mind when he pulled the blanket she’d brought for later when it would be cooler over their bodies. His actions were feverish as he loosened his belt and pulled down his zipper. Keeping his weight on one hand, he caressed her breast with the other, never breaking the kiss. His hand moved down their bodies, gripping the hem of her dress and working it up over her hips.
Man (Seven Forbidden Arts Book 9) Page 24