“Okay.”
“You did what you had to do. Get over it and have breakfast with Grace.”
Luther closed the phone and looked at Grace.
“Petra says I should get over it and have breakfast with you.”
She smiled. “Sounds like a plan.”
THIRTY-FIVE
Grace scooped the tiny black seeds out of the papaya half and set the fruit on a plate.
Luther watched her while he made coffee, his expression bleak. He was still recovering from the trauma of what had happened in the garage, she thought. He needed time.
“This isn’t the kind of place you’re used to, is it?” he said.
Startled, she paused in the act of carrying the plates to the small kitchen table. “What?”
“This apartment.” He angled his head to indicate the cramped kitchen-living area and the small bedroom beyond. “It’s not exactly your style. I could tell that first day when we checked into the hotel suite on Maui. You didn’t even blink.”
She set the plates down very carefully, unsure of where the conversation was going.
“Should I have blinked?” she asked, wary.
“No, because you’re accustomed to that kind of first-class travel.”
“Ah,” she said. She smiled.
“What the hell is that supposed to mean?”
“It means I now know where you’re going with this conversation. Yes, I did spend more than a decade traveling first-class. Martin Crocker knew how to make money and he paid me well. But before I met Martin I was living in an apartment that was about this size and buying my clothes in thrift shops. My cottage in Eclipse Bay is not much bigger than this place.”
He gave her a head-to-toe glance, silently underlining the fact that her shirt and trousers had not come from a thrift shop.
“J&J pays me a very good salary,” she said drily. “I’m sure the agency pays you well, too.”
He turned back to the coffeemaker. “I’ve had a lot of expenses in the past few years.”
“I’m told that divorce is never cheap. Guess that’s what you get for being such a romantic. Is that coffee ready?”
He glared at the coffeemaker. “Yes.”
She finally lost her patience. “Let’s get something straight. I’ve lived high and I’ve lived on the streets. Living high is definitely more comfortable but neither place felt like home. My cottage in Eclipse Bay hasn’t ever felt like home, either. This apartment and the Dark Rainbow, they feel like home. Now why don’t you follow Petra’s advice? Get over it and pour us both a cup of coffee?”
He didn’t move for a few seconds. He just stood there, looking at her. Then he smiled slightly. His eyes warmed. He picked up the pot.
“I can do that,” he said.
She watched him fill two mugs. “And while you’re doing it, why don’t you tell me about your accident?”
He handed her one of the mugs. “I got shot on my last J&J case.”
“Shot?” Horrified, she stared at him. “I thought you said it was an accident.”
“It was.” He picked up his own mug, grabbed his cane, hiked around the counter and sat down at the table. “Someone pulled the trigger of a gun. I happened to be standing in front of said gun. Wrong place, wrong time. Pretty much the working definition of an accident.”
“Good grief.”
“I got what you might call a split-second warning,” he said around a mouthful of papaya. “Time enough to dodge, at any rate. The shooter was aiming for my back. Hit my thigh instead.”
“What happened?” she demanded.
“It was a routine referral from J&J. One of the low-rent private jobs. The client told me she wanted me to protect her from her ex-husband. Claimed he was stalking her.”
“Claimed?”
“She thought she could sucker me into killing him for her.”
“What made her think she could convince you to do that?”
“She was a level-seven strat talent. You know strats. They think they can manipulate and outmaneuver anyone. They always figure they’re the smartest person in the room.”
“Well, they do tend to make good chess players,” Grace said. “Didn’t she know that aura talents are darn hard to manipulate because we can usually see it coming?”
“Like a lot of sensitives, she didn’t think much of our kind of talent. Thought the only thing we could do was perceive a little radiation. She assumed that when we look at folks, all we see are human lightbulbs.”
Grace made a face. “Typical.”
“When she contacted J&J, she specified that she did not want to pay for a high-grade talent. In fact, she specifically asked for an aura.”
“She didn’t want to take any chances, is that it?”
“Right. She would have preferred to use a nonsensitive, a P.I. with no psychic ability at all, but she didn’t have much choice. She had told everyone, including her family, that she was deathly afraid of her ex. They were all registered members of the Society and they all insisted she get a bodyguard from J&J. She had to make it look good.”
“Bet she wasn’t expecting a powerful aura talent.”
“She didn’t know how strong I was,” Luther said. “But she wouldn’t have cared. So long as I was an aura, she felt safe. Fallon was a tad suspicious.”
“Fallon is always suspicious.”
“True. I shared his suspicions but neither of us could figure out what to be suspicious about, and I needed the money.”
“So you took the job.”
“The client assumed that I was just so much dumb muscle on the hoof.”
“Bless her heart.”
“I regret to report that she was not too far off in her assumption,” Luther said. “She damn near got me killed.”
“How?”
“The ex wasn’t stalking her. He didn’t want anything to do with her. When it finally dawned on me that she wanted me to get rid of him, I informed her I wasn’t in that line of work. Like I said, she was a strat. She realized immediately that I wasn’t just walking away from the job. She knew I’d probably warn her ex.”
“What happened?”
“She lost it.” Luther took a bite of his scrambled eggs and swallowed. “Flew into a rage and started screaming that I had ruined everything. Told me the whole story. That’s when I found out why she wanted her ex dead.”
“Can I assume you tweaked her aura a tad to prod her into losing her temper and spilling her guts?”
He shrugged. “Figured by that time I had a right to know what she was up to. Turned out the reason that she wanted her ex dead was because she stood to inherit his share of the business they had founded together.”
“That’s when she shot you?”
“No. While she was screaming at me and I was concentrating on manipulating her aura, her lover walked out of the hallway behind me and shot me.”
“There was a lover involved?”
“It was a complicated situation.”
“How did you get your one-second warning?”
“I was facing away from the hall. But the client was looking straight at it while she yelled at me. When she saw her lover with the gun, I saw her aura spike. I knew something had changed in the situation. Cop instinct took over from there. Caught the bullet in my thigh. Before the lover could line up another shot, I put him to sleep.”
Grace shuddered. “Close call. What happened to your client and her lover?”
“They’re both sitting in prison at the moment. Probably be out on an early-release program. The family has a lot of money and more than one talented lawyer on the tree.”
She nodded and ate the papaya very slowly, trying to make the moment last as long as possible. It was all so perfect, she thought. The sun-warmed room, the light, floral breeze off the lanai; Luther sitting there with her. Life didn’t get any better than this. But such moments could not last forever. She knew that better than most. After a while she put down her spoon.
“We need to talk,” s
he said.
“Oh, shit.”
She frowned. “What now?”
“I hate conversations that start with ‘We need to talk.’ ”
“Sorry.” She sat a little straighter in the chair. “But this is important.”
“Uh-huh.” He picked up a slice of toast. “Okay, let’s have it.”
“Fallon Jones keeps saying that this situation, at least as far as you and I are concerned, is under control. But last night you were almost killed. Because of me.”
He put the uneaten portion of toast on his plate. His eyes narrowed slightly. “Last night is over. If the situation wasn’t under control before, it is now.”
“I don’t think so. Last night was a wake-up call for me. I don’t care what Mr. Jones says, I saw the Siren’s aura. My intuition tells me that she is obsessing over what happened on Maui. She’s powerful and she’s lethal and I don’t want you or Petra and Wayne to get killed trying to protect me.”
“Protecting people is what I do, remember? I’m a bodyguard.”
“You proved that last night. I don’t want you to take any more chances on my behalf.”
“Let me worry about the chances I take.”
“What about Petra and Wayne? They have nothing to do with this but she might target them to get to me. I don’t want to be responsible for putting any of you in more danger.”
“Planning to disappear again?”
She stiffened. “It worked well the last time.”
“You’ve built a new life for yourself. You can’t be serious about leaving it behind to fire up another one.”
“I’ve always been able to handle my own problems. I’ll deal with this.”
“Not alone. Not this time. J&J got you into this mess. J&J has a responsibility to protect you. And since I’m the nearest J&J bodyguard on the scene, you’ve got me, whether you like it or not.”
“Petra and Wayne don’t work for J&J,” she said, desperate now.
“Remember what you said about the Society being the closest thing you’ve got to a family?”
“What about it?”
“Petra and Wayne are my family. As long as you and I are together, they see you as family, too. You couldn’t make them walk away from this if you tried.” He grinned. “Besides, they’d be crushed if you refused their help.”
“I’d rather have them crushed than dead because of me.”
“Trust me, Petra and Wayne don’t see it that way. They may be getting on in years, but they’re warriors, Grace—warriors to the bone.”
She tried and failed to blink back the tears. “I was afraid of this.”
“What, exactly, were you afraid of?”
She wiped one cheek with the back of her hand. “I was afraid that I wouldn’t have the courage to turn down your offer.”
“It’s not an offer,” he said softly. “It’s just the way things are. I couldn’t let you walk away now, even if you tried.”
“Luther—”
“Hush.”
She felt herself grow unnaturally calm and serene.
“Stop that.” She glowered. “I’ll let you know if I want my aura manipulated.”
The artificial serenity vanished.
He grinned. “I love it when you do that. Gets me hot.”
She glowered harder. “How can you talk about sex at a time like this?”
“You’re right. When it comes to sex, talking isn’t nearly as much fun as doing.”
He got to his feet, made his way around the table and hauled her up out of the chair. His mouth closed over hers before she could think of a good reason to stop him.
She tried to resist for all of two seconds. Then, with a sigh, she put her hands on his shoulders and kissed him back.
She sensed the passion unfurling between them. He kissed her until she shimmered with need, until she trembled with it; until she could no longer even think about getting on a plane, let alone starting a new life.
He captured her face between his hands.
“I won’t let you disappear on me,” he said. “If you try to leave, I will come after you. Never forget that. And I will find you.”
She went very still, her fingers clenched around his shoulders. She could not identify the tangle of emotions cascading through her. Fear? Hope? Love?
“What makes you so certain that you could find me?” she asked.
It wasn’t a challenge. It was a question, an urgent one. She needed an answer badly.
“Because you and I are linked,” he said. “Don’t try to tell me that you don’t sense the bond between us.”
He covered her mouth with his own again, not waiting for an answer. Her hands tightened on him. With a small, urgent little cry, she kissed him back, holding him captive, just as he held her.
Somehow they ended up on the ancient sofa. He eased her onto her back. In the short time they had been together, he had learned a lot about what made her hot in bed and he applied the knowledge ruthlessly. The energy of passion—light and dark—flared high.
But the bond worked both ways. She knew him now as well as he knew her and she was just as ruthless.
He drove himself deep inside her. Her senses flared, fusing with his in the moment of release. And then they both fell off the edge of the world.
THIRTY-SIX
The monster did not come from under the bed, he came down the unlit hall. She heard him unlock the door that she had locked so carefully. Frozen with panic, she watched his terrifying aura as he moved stealthily into her room.
She had just turned fourteen. She had been in the foster care system for only a few months but her survival instincts were already razor sharp. She had gone to bed fully clothed every night because she sensed that sooner or later the husband would come to her room.
In the dense shadows she could not see him but his energy field blazed with the darkness of perverted lust. He came to stand beside the bed.
“Are you awake, sweetie?” he crooned. “I came to kiss you good night.”
She did not answer. She did not move. She did not think she could move. Perhaps if she pretended to be asleep, the monster would go away.
He sat down on the edge of the bed and put one hand on her leg. She trembled, instinctively shrinking from him.
“So you are awake,” he whispered. “I thought so. You’re a sexy young lady. All grown up. I’ll bet you’ve had a couple of boyfriends already, haven’t you?” He drew his hand up her thigh. “But you probably haven’t had a real man yet.”
“Please, don’t.” Her throat was so tight she could hardly get the words out.
“I’m going to teach you how to please a man. By the time you’ve had some lessons from me, you’ll be able to get any guy you want.”
“No.”
“Don’t worry, with an ass like yours, you’ll be a natural.”
His hand moved up the blanket, over her hip, heading toward her breast. She saw the sick pulsations in his aura. She struggled to a sitting position.
“No,” she said.
It should have come out as a scream but fear partially gagged her.
“Stop it,” he ordered angrily. “Stop it right now. This is how it’s going to be. You’re going to learn that tonight. I’m going to make a woman out of you. Believe me, in the end you’ll be grateful to me.”
She wanted to run but he had her trapped against the headboard. She was shivering violently to the beat of her own pulse. She struggled but he was far too strong. He forced her back down onto the pillows and yanked aside the sheet and blanket.
“Wore your jeans to bed, I see.” He chuckled. “You are a nervous little filly, aren’t you? But we’ll get you past that, don’t you worry.”
He started to unfasten her jeans.
She flattened her hands against his upper chest. Her palms touched his rough, hairy skin. She realized he was wearing the grimy tank-style shirt that he’d had on earlier.
“Go ahead and struggle,” he said. “It’ll make things more fun.”
He tugged at her jeans.
“No,” she repeated. Her voice was still half strangled.
She knew a terrible sense of helplessness. She had no chance against him physically. He was too big and too strong and too aroused. Frantic, she pushed back at him with her hands and with her fully jacked aura.
As though it had been triggered by the threat, her new, rapidly developing talent flared higher than it ever had before. She felt the leap and pulse and flash of the invisible energy. She could not see the fierce veil that surrounded her—she had learned early on that individuals could not view their own auras, not even aura readers—but power could always be sensed. The effects were immediate and devastating to her attacker.
He jerked wildly, as though he had touched a live electrical wire. The scream of rage and fear was trapped in his throat. Seconds later he collapsed on top of her, a dead weight.
Her hands burned.
“Grace.”
Luther’s voice, laced with solid, reassuring command, brought her out of the dream. She awoke with a start, shivering. He pulled her against him, comforting her with his body and a gentling hand.
“Sorry,” she said.
“It’s okay.” He stroked the length of her spine. “I was tempted to calm your aura but the last time I tried that you didn’t appreciate it.”
“No.” She hesitated. “I’d rather deal with the nightmares than feel that someone else is controlling me.”
“Understood.”
She huddled close. After a while she stopped trembling. Her breathing returned to normal. She exhaled slowly, sat up on the side of the bed and wrapped her arms around herself.
“In case you haven’t figured it out by now, I’m pretty screwed up, Luther. Are you sure you want to get involved with me?”
“In case you haven’t figured it out, we’re already involved.” He grabbed his cane and made his way around the foot of the bed to sit beside her. Close but not quite touching. “And you aren’t the only one in this relationship who is a little screwed up. So what? How bad was the dream?”
“You don’t want to know.”
“Yes,” he said, “I do.”
He had a right to know, she thought.
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