Caress of Darkness

by Julie Kenner

  “Broadway comes to mind,” I tease. “But I’m glad you’re such an easy date.”

  “So long as I’m with you, you’ll find I’m very easy.”

  I see Mal and Dante exchange looks and have to laugh. “Your friends are going to think I have you wrapped around my little finger.”

  “That’s okay,” Raine says, standing and offering me a hand. “You do.”

  The hospital is a short walk from Number 36, but Dad is sleeping when we get there.

  “When he’s awake, I read to him or just talk,” I tell Raine. “But I don’t want to wake him.”

  “We’ll come back tomorrow.”

  I glance at him, grateful this is an outing he’s willing to repeat. “Thanks. I’d like that.”

  Once we’re back on the sidewalk, I glance sideways at him. “So you’re home during the afternoon and tomorrow you have time to go with me to the hospital. You drive around in a limo and live in the penthouse apartment of one of the nicest brownstones I have had the pleasure of visiting. Forgive me, Mr. Engel, but what kind of a company is Phoenix Security? Or are you simply one of the glorious elite who lives off piles of money gathered by the family over the last gazillion centuries?”

  “As a matter of fact, I do have those piles of money gathered over centuries. They provide a nice cushion and allow me to buy roses from street vendors without breaking my budget.” He stops at a street vendor and does exactly that.

  “Thank you, kind sir,” I say, taking the rose he hands me.

  “But Phoenix also provides a nice income.”

  “So what does the company do? By security, you don’t mean stocks and bonds, right? You’re talking about stuff like wiring people’s houses? Motion detectors and video surveillance?”

  He looks amused. “Not stocks, correct. But as for the other, I’d say that we’re more…specialized. The company’s been around a very long time. We provide exclusive services on an international scale.”

  “Sounds exotic.”

  “It can be.”

  “Dangerous?”

  “That too.”

  “Well, what do you know?”

  His brow furrows. “What?”

  “Turns out I’m falling for James Bond.”

  “Is that right?” He’s laced his voice with a British accent and I laugh, delighted.

  “Do you mean is that right that you’re really like James Bond?” I ask. “I couldn’t say. You haven’t given me enough details of your missions.”

  He lifts our twined hands to his lips and kisses my fingers. “I mean, is it right that you’re falling for me.”

  “Oh.” I bite my lower lip, then tilt my head up to smile at him. “Yeah. That’s right.”

  “That’s very interesting information.”

  “I’m very glad you think so.” I can’t seem to banish the grin that is determined to spread across my face.

  “I think it’s fair to say the feeling is mutual.”

  I ease up next to him as he hooks his arm around my shoulders. “I like this,” I say. “It’s been ages since I’ve just walked around the city, and even when I was living here, I never seemed to come to the park enough.”

  “Nor do I.”

  “I have a radical idea,” I say. “Let’s blow off inventory and just continue what we’re doing.”

  “I love your radical idea.”

  “I’m glad. I forget how nice it is to just look around sometimes.”

  He nods. “Funny that I have all the time in the world and yet I never seem to find the time to enjoy it.”

  His words hit me like a sting, and I tug him to a stop. “What do you mean, all the time in the world?” I know he can’t be speaking literally. And yet for some reason I don’t understand, his words have shaken me.

  His brow furrows, and I think that he must be as confused by my reaction as I am. “I just mean that I’ve filled my days with work when I should be filling them with this. The park. A stroll. A beautiful woman by my side.”

  He presses a kiss to my temple and I squeeze his hand in response, feeling just a little bit foolish about the direction my thoughts were going.

  “And you? Do young, brilliant assistant district attorneys manage to fit love and leisure into their lives?”

  “Very little leisure, even less love.” I tilt my head so that I am looking at him, knowing that my next words are probably inexcusably bold. “Before now, love was never on my radar.”

  His smile is slow and easy and full of both heat and understanding. “Is that so?”

  “It is.” And because now I’m starting to feel a little too exposed, I take his hand and urge him further into the park, aiming us along the trails toward Central Park South.

  “Thanks again for coming with me to see my dad.” It’s my best effort to change the subject. “What about your parents? Where do they live?”

  “They’re gone.” I hear the loss clearly in his voice. “It’s been a very long time.”

  “I’m so sorry.” We have arrived at the end of the park, and now we step out onto the sidewalk. I glance around, then smile. “Your parents, my dad. I think we could both use some cheering up. Come on.”

  I lead him to Fifth Avenue and FAO Schwarz, then wave my finger in an ah-ah gesture when he starts to protest. “Haven’t you seen Big? The big piano is an instant mood enhancer.”

  “Better than sex?” he deadpans.

  “No, but we can do it in public without getting arrested.” I tug his hand. “Come on.”

  As it turns out, we have to wait in line for ten minutes behind a gaggle of seven- and eight-year-olds. We are, by about two decades, the oldest people in line.

  Frankly, I don’t care. And after I start out doing a truly crappy job of playing Mary Had a Little Lamb by hopping from one note to the next, Raine joins me and, as expected, completely shows me up by playing the opening riff of The Entertainer. And getting a standing ovation from everyone in the store.

  Honestly, it’s pretty cool.

  And as we step back outside and start up Fifth Avenue toward 63rd Street and Number 36, I can’t help but think that this is the most fun I’ve ever had with a man. For that matter, it’s the most fun I’ve had with anyone in a very, very long time, and I’m quite sure that my grin makes that very, very clear.

  “Home?” Raine asks, and I nod automatically.

  It’s only when we have reached Number 36 and are back in the penthouse that I realize that this is where I expected we were going. And yet this isn’t home. Not for me.

  But still…

  “What is it?” Raine asks, seeing me pause by the window.

  “Nothing,” I say. “It’s just—you came here, and that felt right to me. And I—”

  “You feel it, too.” He moves closer to me, and that heat that always seems to be bubbling beneath the surface with us seems to crackle and pop. “That tug. That connection.”

  I nod slowly. I know exactly what he means. “It should scare me. But it doesn’t.”

  “Maybe it would with someone else. Maybe it doesn’t scare you because it’s right with me.”

  “I think it is,” I say. “Right, I mean.” I press my hand to the glass. “This is moving so fast, Raine, but it doesn’t feel strange. It feels as though I’ve known you forever. As if—I don’t know. As if we’re picking up where we left off somehow.”

  He is staring at me, his expression managing to be both earnest and astounded.

  I shake my head and hold up my hand. “I’m sorry. That was way too much. I shouldn’t have said anything. I don’t want you to feel weird or think that I’m moving too fast.” I’m rambling, but I don’t care. “I just wanted to tell you that, and now I’m thinking that maybe I should have just stayed quiet, because I really don’t know where that came from.”

  “Livia,” he says.

  “What?” I have no idea what that means.

  “Where it came from. It came from Livia.”

  I lick my lips, an odd sensation twisting ins
ide me, almost like fear. As if I do understand—but I just don’t want to.

  “What are you talking about?”

  He shakes his head. “No, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said anything.”

  “Why not? If you understand what’s happening between us, why we’re moving so fast, why it feels so right, then please tell me. I want to know.”

  I can see the debate play out on his face, but I don’t understand it. Or, at least, I don’t understand it until he finally speaks.

  “She was my mate,” he says, and I stand completely frozen. “My wife. Many years ago. She died, Callie. But part of her lives inside you.”

  I force myself to breathe in and out. Is this a joke? Because I pushed him to tell me something before he was ready?

  “You’re saying your dead wife was what? Reincarnated inside me? That the reason you’re attracted to me is because I’m walking around with your dead wife hitching a ride?”

  “Reach inside, Callie.” His voice doesn’t waver in the least, and I realize that this isn’t a joke. He believes this bullshit. And I’m not sure if I should sit down and cry or run away in terror. “Search for the core of our connection, and you’ll know I’m telling you the truth. It’s why this feels so right.”

  I shake my head, not quite sure I can manage words right now.

  “Please,” he presses. “Don’t you see? It explains why it feels to you as if we’re picking up where we left off.”

  “No.” The word is ripped out of me. “All this explains is why I was so scared of finding a man I connected with in the first place. Because all that does is open me up to nut jobs. Fuck.” I slam my palm against the window so hard I’m surprised the glass doesn’t break.

  “Shit.” He runs his fingers over his scalp. “Dammit, Callie, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said anything yet. But I thought…I know you feel it as profoundly as I do. I thought you would understand it, too. And it’s so damn easy to talk to you that I forget that your perspective is so much different than mine.”

  “Perspective?” I repeat. “You mean the view from sanity?” I am blinking madly, trying to hold back tears. I’m destroyed. That’s the bottom line. Everything I wanted. Everything I let myself believe, and it’s all gone in one puff. Like pulling back the wizard’s curtain to reveal the truth.

  I force myself to draw a deep breath and keep my voice from shaking. “I’m sorry, Raine. Whatever you feel, it isn’t real, and I’m not going to ride along just to be part of your game. Because I can tell you right now, there’s no way that I can win.”

  Chapter 9

  My head is swimming as I stumble out of the service entrance off of Raine’s kitchen. I find myself in a whitewashed corridor, and I turn frantically, looking for an elevator. It is at the end of the hall on my left, and I race that direction, then jab the button. I press my forehead to the wall next to the elevator and will myself not to cry. And I pray that Raine doesn’t come after me, because right now, I don’t know what I would do.

  His mate? He’d thought he’d lost me? Her? I carry her essence inside me?

  It was insane.

  In a rush, I remember my fear that first night in the limo. That my desire for him was only an illusion.

  It turns out that wasn’t what I should have feared—my desire is real.

  It is Raine’s desire for me that is an illusion.

  And this is all some sort of horrible psychological mind-fuck wherein he thinks I’m his dead wife or something.

  It breaks my heart. And, yeah, it scares me, too. Because I’d thought what he felt was real.

  And because he so obviously believes that what he said is true.

  Oh god, oh god, oh god, how could I have been so stupid? How could I have let myself get so close because now it feels like he’s taken a knife and sliced me in two?

  The elevator doors open and I hurry inside, then jab the button to make the doors close.

  But it is not even the knowledge that I allowed this to happen that eats at me the most. That I broke my own rules and allowed myself to get burned.

  No, the worst is something I can barely admit, even to myself. And that is the tiny, buried, lingering feeling that he’s telling the truth. That he believes it not because he went over the deep end in grief, but because it is true.

  Damn me, he’s gotten so under my skin—he’s managed to twist me up so completely and thoroughly—that I am actually tempted to buy into his psychosis. I can almost even convince myself that I feel it, too, some deep primal connection that extends back to even before he walked into my father’s shop.

  But that’s absurd. And despite my childhood searches for fairies and angels, I know better than to think that such things truly happen.

  Don’t I?

  I’m still lost in my confused and swirling thoughts when I hit the street. It’s dark, but not terribly late. Still, the street seems strangely empty, as if everything has shifted and I’m now living in some sort of netherworld that traps people whose dreams have died.

  I don’t like it, and all I want is to get to the shop, go upstairs, and sleep for a year.

  I hurry that way, intent on my goal.

  So intent, in fact, that I let my guard down. Which is why I have only myself to blame when the burly man in a windbreaker jumps out from the small passage between the shop and the next building.

  I barely have time to make a sound before he has a hand over my mouth and has yanked me into the shadow-filled corridor. A cold sweat breaks out over my skin and my heart is pounding so hard I can hear nothing other than my own blood thrumming through my veins. In fact, I only realize that he is talking to me when he shakes me and I see his mouth moving.

  “The amulet, bitch. Where the fuck is the amulet?”

  “I—I have no idea.” I have always had the illusion that I would be strong in a fight. But I’m not strong now. I’m terrified and it is all that I can do to focus and breathe so that the world doesn’t turn to gray and I pass out right now.

  I pray that someone passing by will see or hear us. The passage is filled with trash bins, and because of that, we are only a few feet off the lit sidewalk. But the night is quiet, and as far as I know, we are all alone.

  “You don’t know? You don’t know? Well, maybe this will remind you.” He pulls a knife from his pocket and thrusts the blade toward me. But he doesn’t even make it an inch before something that looks like a thin strip of flat red light lashes out in front of me, slicing not only through his chest, but right through the metal blade as well.

  The scream that I’d been holding in erupts, and I whip around to find Raine holding something that would be a sword if the blade didn’t appear to be made out of…what? Light? Flame? Heat?

  I don’t know. Frankly, I don’t care. I’m just grateful that he’s there, and I take an unsteady step toward him. As I do, I hear the sharp report of a gunshot, then see the shock on Raine’s gorgeous face.

  He steps forward as if drunk, then turns. As he does, I see a second man, standing less than a foot away.

  “Stay…the fuck away…from her.” Raine’s words sound like they are being forced out through water, and I run toward him even as he manages a burst of strength and spins, thrusting that strange sword right into the gunman’s heart before yanking the blade free and collapsing onto the ground, blood gushing out of the bullet wound that has opened his back.

  The gunman falls, too, but I am not concerned about him. I only care about Raine.

  But though I try to get to him, it is as if I have hit a wall of air, and I can’t move forward. Shock, I think. I’m in shock.

  And then, when his body begins to rise and spin and burn, I am certain that it is shock and that I am hallucinating.

  And the last thing I remember before the world goes gray is Raine’s body, black and charred as it writhes in dancing tongues of fire.

  * * * *

  “So you just told her?” It’s Mal’s voice, but it seems as if it’s floating in a cloud above me. “
What? You had her in bed and that was your idea of pillow talk? You tell her she’s got the essence of your dead mate inside her? No wonder she bolted.”

  “Boys…” Jessica’s voice now, stern yet hushed.

  “An error in judgment, I admit,” Raine says, his voice soft. He’s alive. Dear god, he’s alive. “She said she felt the connection, that it seemed to her as if we were picking up where we left off. And I just couldn’t—”

  “What?” Liam asks. “Couldn’t wait to terrify the girl?”

  I try to open my eyes, to see Raine. To touch him. To tell them all that I’m in here, but I can’t seem to get any part of me to function properly. I’m trapped inside myself, and I want so desperately to come back.

  “Stop it, you two. When was the last time you saw Raine so happy? And she’s the reason for it. Of course he wants her to understand. And you,” she continues. “Do you love me?”

  “You know I do,” Liam says.

  “So you’ll share your crazy-shit beliefs and ideas with me and expect me not to bolt, right?”

  Liam says nothing.

  “That’s what I thought. Of course you will. So cut him some slack. Both of you. The man’s in love, and love makes men fools. And as for you,” Jessica continues, and from her softening tone, I am sure she has turned her attention back to Raine. “She may have felt it, but she doesn’t really get it. You, Rainer Engel, have been alive for thousands of years, but you’ve forgotten how to be subtle. So go easy on her, okay? And just keep reminding yourself that she doesn’t understand any of this yet.”

  She’s right, I think. I don’t understand. But I want to. Because unless everyone at Number 36 is as crazy as I thought Raine was, then it’s me who is missing the bigger pictures, and not them.

  I saw Raine burn and yet he is alive. And now Jessica is saying he’s been alive for thousands of years.

  So yeah, it’s fair to say I don’t get it. But I very much want to.

  “Thanks, Jessica,” Raine says.

  “You’re welcome. And now, gentlemen, I think we should leave.”

  “It’s okay. You don’t have to.”