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Esperance: (New Adult Paranormal Romance) (Heart Lines Series Book 3)

Page 12

by Heather Hildenbrand


  He smiled, his full lips curving upward in a brilliant show of teeth. “I am well, thank you. You did it.”

  I nodded and tried to sit up, grimacing as my head swam a bit with dizziness. “Can I have some water?” I asked.

  A bottle of water was pressed into my hands almost immediately. I caught sight of bodies hovering in the doorway but the conference table and chairs I sat behind obscured their faces. I recognized RJ’s boots and Brittany’s—no, my—moccasins—but the rest were foreign to me. I concentrated on the water, drinking half the bottle before I felt stable enough to try and stand.

  The moment I tried to move, Koby grabbed me and propped my elbow, hauling me up under his weight.

  “Your feet don’t hurt anymore?” I asked when we were eye to eye.

  “Not at all,” he confirmed, smiling again. His eyes shone with pride, and I felt a similar sort of excitement spear through me.

  I’d done it. I’d found the source of his pain and removed it. I knew because my feet ached now that I was standing on them.

  But I didn’t mention that to Koby.

  Even so, ever so slowly, I felt the ache lessening. I eyed him suspiciously, remembering what he’d said about taking one’s pain and sort of sharing it. He gave a small nod and then turned away, confirming my suspicions.

  I scowled. “That’s cheating.” I said quietly.

  “Sam?”

  The female I’d heard a moment ago came forward. Koby moved aside to let her approach, his hand slipping out from under my elbow, and I looked up at the most gorgeous blond I’d ever seen. Her hair was cut in a harsh bob that was angled toward her face. Feminine and sexy—but combined with her intense gaze I knew instinctively she wasn’t someone to mess with.

  I’d heard enough stories from RJ and Brittany—mostly second-hand gossip from other hunters they knew—that the director didn’t screw around. Thus, the nerves that were currently catapulting against the inside of my stomach.

  “Sam, hi. I’m Cordelia Steppe, the director of CHAS.” She offered her hand and gave it a firm shake that probably would have left Simon Brooks III with a broken bone. “You can call me Cord,” she added, her icy blue eyes sizing me up.

  She wasn’t unfriendly. Just intense.

  “Sam Knight,” I said as she let go of me—and then mentally kicked myself as I realized she clearly already knew my name.

  “Thank you for meeting with me today,” she said. “Are you well enough to continue or do you need to rest a bit first?”

  “I’m fine,” I assured her and felt my cheeks flushing at the realization that the director of CHAS had walked in to find me passed out on the floor of the conference room. So much for first impressions.

  Cord flicked a quick glance at Koby as if she might be asking his input. Whatever she found there seemed to satisfy her and she turned back to me, holding her hand out toward the door. “Shall we take a walk then? I’d like to show you something.”

  I led the way and stopped short in front of the door still blocked by RJ with Brittany hovering behind him. He didn’t move aside and instead studied me carefully with arms crossed over his chest. “You good?” he asked quietly.

  I nodded. “I’m fine,” I assured him.

  He didn’t seem entirely sold but he finally stepped aside. “I’ll be out here when you’re done,” he said. Brittany poked him and he jumped, amending, “We’ll be out here. But if you need us, just yell.”

  “Got it,” I told him and then fell into step behind Cord as she led the way down the hall, her black boots heavy against the thin, industrial carpet.

  At the end of the hallway, she turned left and I followed, wishing Koby or RJ had come with me. Or that Brittany hadn’t told me so many stories about the infamous Cordelia Steppe, daughter of the villain who tried to kill werewolves and criminalize peace with them just a few short years ago.

  We passed through a set of doors and then made a few turns before ending up in a cold room made entirely of concrete floors and stainless steel surfaces. The flooring was slanted toward a large drain in the center of the room. Every surface gleamed in the harsh lighting and I couldn’t breathe without almost overdosing on the scent of bleach.

  I hugged my arms to my chest and huddled there, trying not to think about why Cord would have brought me to a room like this one. Or why such a fancy—and human-run—office building in downtown San Francisco contained a morgue right in the middle of it.

  “Thanks for coming down here with me,” Cord said.

  She went to the far wall that looked to be a bank of storage units of some kind and pulled on one of the steel handles. The door opened to reveal a hollow space and she pulled on a platform that slid out length-wise from the hole. I gasped when I saw what lay on the platform.

  A werewolf, withered and unmoving, lay on the stainless steel gurney that fed out of the hole in the wall. I didn’t need to ask to know it was dead. Its eyes were lifeless. Yellowed but without the glow that always shone as they attacked. Its massive paws were curled in on its body as if it was sleeping.

  I wish it were.

  But I knew this werewolf. He wasn’t going to wake up. I knew because I’d been the one to kill him.

  “This is Abel Turner. You met him in Guam,” Cord said quietly.

  She stood beside the gurney, her hand coming to rest on the fur on Abel’s neck.

  I shivered from the cold—and from the tender way Cord looked at the dead werewolf. The werewolf I’d killed.

  “You knew him,” I said.

  Cord nodded. “We met several years ago when I was a member of an activist group called the Cause. We fought for peace between hunters and werewolves. Abel came to a meeting we held for packs of the north. He lived in Washington then. He was sixteen.”

  “I’m very sorry,” I began, my heart wrenching into my stomach and my insides churning. I’d killed her friend. She’d brought me here to avenge him, probably.

  The stories were true. Cord was—

  “You did what you had to do,” she said. When she looked up at me, her eyes were shining with unshed tears that gave her blue eyes an ethereal glow. “It’s the mark of a leader, you know.”

  That rendered me silent.

  Cord cocked her head, watching me knowingly. “You don’t think you’re a leader?” she asked.

  I shrugged and shook my head. “I’m just trying to do the right thing,” I said finally. “This magic inside me. This voice…”

  “The moon goddess,” she offered and I shrugged again.

  “I guess, although it feels like a part of me and not some ancient moon witch like everyone says. Anyway, it’s been confusing but the one thing I know for sure is that I was meant to heal them.” I gestured at Abel and grimaced with the obvious failure I’d just admitted to.

  “Well, then, you’re already light years ahead of me.”

  I looked up to find Cord smiling wryly, again giving the opposite reaction than what I’d expected. In fact, she didn’t seem to see this as a failure at all.

  “What do you mean?” I asked.

  “You already know what you are. Where you’re headed. Purpose,” she said simply.

  “You didn’t always know you were going to be the director?” I asked.

  She laughed, a harsh sound although it fit her and I smiled too. “Not quite. I was content to slay the bad guys. I liked being in the field. Getting my hands dirty. Making a difference, sure, but I never saw myself as… this,” she said, gesturing down to the tailored jacket over slacks and boots.

  “Your father was the previous director?” I asked softly—in case the question ended with my head being ordered cut off like the stories all claimed.

  But Cord just sighed. “Gordon Steppe stopped being my father a long time ago. I knew he was evil but I hadn’t imagined everything he was capable of. Nor did I want any part of his legacy. Which is why with the directorship… I didn’t see it coming, but then I couldn’t say no either.” She snorted. “So I can understand your s
truggle with this.”

  “You seem to fit right into it now,” I said.

  She shrugged, one shoulder lifting and falling in a jerky move. “I’ve made compromises to fit into this role. I don’t regret it but it wasn’t easy. In case you couldn’t tell, I’m not a board room kind of girl,” she said wryly.

  I laughed. “No, you’re not,” I said.

  She grinned and I knew right then the stories had it wrong. Cord was scary as hell and I damn sure wouldn’t want to be her enemy but she and I had a lot in common. And I was suddenly very glad for this chance to meet her and find out about her for myself.

  “Thank you,” I said. “For everything you just told me. I needed to hear it.”

  She waved a careless hand. “It’s the least I can do. We really do want you to know we’re with you. You’re not alone.”

  “That’s good to hear. I could use the company right about now,” I said, hating that I was thinking of Alex yet again and his absence.

  “I’ve read the reports,” she said. “I don’t much care for data, though. I needed to see you for myself. Your ability to heal is remarkable. They showed me pictures of RJ’s leg before and now…” She shook her head. “It’s unbelievable. It’s…

  “Magic?” I asked.

  She gave a half-smile. “Exactly.”

  “I am sorry about Abel. I didn’t want to hurt him, but at the time, I didn’t have another way.”

  “I know about what Wes did to your memory,” she said. “That must have been hard, getting it all back suddenly and coping with the news that you were a witch with all this power inside you.”

  “It hasn’t been easy.”

  “I want you to know that we have faith in you,” she said and now it was my turn to blink back tears.

  I ducked my head and dug my fingernails into my arms. “I hope that faith isn’t misplaced,” I said.

  “You healed RJ. And just now, with Koby,” Cord said. “I’ve seen the ancestry research and the results from your blood work. You are who they say you are.”

  “I’m not arguing that,” I said. “I just don’t know if I can do what they say I can do.”

  “You’ll figure it out,” she said and I marveled at her confidence. How easily she seemed to just accept that I would come through. It only made me more scared of failure.

  “I’ve been thinking,” I said slowly. “If I can’t figure this out in time, my friend Indra should be contacted. She can heal like I can but I think she’s using it for—”

  “Indra is not your friend,” Cord said and her gentleness was gone, replaced by a hard-edged tone that left me stunned. I’d thought CHAS didn’t know or care about what Indra did or what she was.

  “What? How do you know?” I asked.

  “The team that we sent to her store after that break-in discovered some things,” she said. “Animal blood, bones of sea creatures, and some items that we’re still waiting on an analysis to identify.”

  “Why would she have bones?” I asked almost to myself. Or, more importantly, where would she get them? I’d never delivered anything like that for Mirabelle.

  “I don’t have answers for that yet. We have a team on her for information-gathering,” Cord said.

  “You’re watching her?”

  She nodded and her expression was hard. “She’s not like you, Sam. She’s something else. Something older. She doesn’t just have the energy inside of her like you do. I have a feeling whatever is inside her, it’s not interested in healing anything.”

  “Don’t get me wrong. I appreciate your attention to it. I don’t like Indra’s methods either and I don’t trust her. But you make it sound like she’s not human,” I said.

  “One of our men sent to gather evidence from her break-in procured a strand of her hair for testing. She’s not human,” Cord confirmed. “She is an evil brought to life for the sole purpose of death and destruction.”

  “But the break-in—?” I began.

  “Was staged.”

  “What about the one at my aunt’s house?” I asked.

  “We’re looking into it,” she assured me. “We’ll know more soon. But I suspect it was Indra’s doing. Looking for you.”

  “Me? But she already knew where to find me.”

  “You were out of the country. She probably didn’t know where. Sam… I don’t know how to tell you this, but she’s the one sending these werewolves to kill you.”

  “What? How do you know?”

  “Our team intercepted one outside your house two nights ago. RJ put him down and called it in. According to the report, the werewolf died screaming about killing you and eating your heart.”

  I grabbed at the corner of the sliding ledge that held Abel’s body, using the cold steel to ground me as I struggled to get my bearings. “RJ didn’t tell me,” I said in a wispy voice. At least I wasn’t crying. Too shocked for that.

  “He probably wanted to protect you.”

  “Simon said… I asked him to look into her but he said Alex had to ask for help first. He said Indra wasn’t a concern for CHAS right now…” I was rambling and somewhere in there was an “I told you so” that I couldn’t help. But mostly, it was rambling. I’d already come to realize Indra wasn’t one of the good guys but ordering werewolves to kill me? That was going one farther than I’d counted on.

  Cord hesitated and then seemed to decide something. “I know this is a lot to take on at once. It’s become obvious to us Indra knows what you are. But we don’t know what she is and until we do, we cannot engage her. No matter what, you are to stay away from her until further notice. RJ and Brittany have orders to do whatever is necessary to keep you from her or anyone she’s working with, do you understand?”

  A lump formed in my chest and I pressed on it with my fist, trying to ease the ache. “Alex is working for her now,” I said, the words as raw coming out of me as they felt inside.

  Cord sighed. “I know.”

  There was a moment of silence. I stared at a spot on the floor, numb. I hadn’t wanted to believe Indra was bad. Something had told me she wasn’t right, but I’d never guessed she was trying to have me killed. I’d wanted Alex healed so badly that I’d pretended she wasn’t evil. Or powerful enough to do something like this—

  “I know this is a lot to ask. You clearly care for Alex,” Cord said. “And he’s a friend of mine… sort of.” Her expression darkened and she blinked until it cleared, leaving me to wonder how loosely she was using the term “friend” when it came to Alex.

  “I have to help him,” I said, needing to let her know where I stood on it.

  “Right now, we’re doing all we can for him. But in light of what we’re learning about Indra, it has to be his choice to come in. I know it’s a lot, but I’m asking you put that aside and focus on the wolves. Alex isn’t… You can’t help him right now. But these wolves—” She nodded at Abel. “—you can help them.”

  “I’m doing everything I can,” I said hoarsely, doing my best to shove aside my worries like she’d asked but it was nearly impossible with what she’d told me about Indra. All I could think about was the danger Alex was in working for her.

  I forced that aside for now and thought of the wolves I could help. Of Mason. “After RJ, I think I know what to do to heal them,” I said. “But I need to be careful. I don’t want to do it wrong and hurt someone again.”

  Cord nodded. “That’s all we can ask. In fact, we’d like to invite you to use this space as a place to practice.”

  Here?” I asked, looking around bleakly. It was a morgue; that much was clear to me now. “But how can I help them if they’re already…?”

  “The soul of a werewolf, its life force, is not like that of a human. Koby says even after death there is a lingering energy force with the wolves. Sometimes the aura remains for a few days. If there is anything here, maybe it can help you understand what’s been done to them and how to fix it.”

  “Okay,” I said even though I really didn’t like the idea of be
ing left alone in a room full of werewolves. Dead or not. “What about the hospital? My friend Mason is there in a coma. I think I might be able to help him. And he trusts me.”

  “You have our full permission to do whatever you think might help him or the others. Koby has offered to stay close. He has a room in Half Moon and he’s available to you for whatever you need. His experience with healing is extensive so don’t be afraid to utilize his knowledge.”

  “That would be great, thanks,” I said.

  “We are happy to offer anything we can. I know it’s a lot to have on your shoulders.”

  I blew out a breath and finally gave voice to my fear. “It’s a lot for one person,” I agreed.

  Cord cocked her head. “The moon goddess is with you. Don’t forget that, Sam. It’s important that you work with her. If she decides we have failed…”

  “I know,” I said with another shudder. I didn’t really want to say it out loud. Not here. In a morgue. “I’m going to do everything I can,” I added.

  “That’s all we can ask. Simon will get anything you need. You have his number?”

  I nodded.

  She pressed a button on the wall and a chime sounded, echoing through the hollow space, before the door opened and the receptionist appeared.

  “Priscilla, please escort Sam back to her friends.”

  “Yes, ma’am,” Priscilla said quickly. She held out an arm toward the open door, and I gave Cord a final glance before following the receptionist out.

  “And Sam?” Cord called.

  I turned back. “Yes?”

  “You might be only one person, but you aren’t alone. RJ and Brittany have your back. The way they talked about you in debrief… I’ve only ever seen that kind of loyalty in my own family. Don’t doubt their commitment to you or what we’re trying to do.”

  “I know. Thanks for assigning them.”

  She shook her head. “It’s more than an assignment. They would protect you now no matter what.”

  I winced, thinking of Alex’s broken promise to do exactly the same thing, but forced a smile and said, “You’re right. I’m really lucky.”

  Where RJ and Brittany were concerned, I meant it too.

 

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