by Marie Harte
“Sure thing. But are you sure you don’t need to see a doctor or something?” He looked over at Jane as if seeking support. “You could have a concussion.”
Fallon waved her hand, trying to ignore the way Jackson’s body had become transparent. “Nah. I just need to sit down for a bit and re-hydrate myself. But I’d love the company, if you don’t mind babysitting me for a while.”
Jackson chuckled and gave her a sweeping bow. “It would be my pleasure,” he replied. “You go ahead to the bathroom, and I’ll save a patio chair for you.”
Fallon smiled and pushed past him, hoping her feet would carry her far enough away before the full force of the vision hit. She made for the doorway off the living room, knowing it led down a short hall to the bathroom.
The ground shifted and she stumbled, landing hard against the wall. Half of the room had faded away, leaving only a few feet ahead of her still solid. She lunged forward, grabbing the cold handle as she flung herself inside the room. She had just enough strength to close the door behind her, before her world disappeared and she fell to the ground in a crumpled heap.
* * * *
Gil stood on the corner of the deck, stunned. He’d done his best to leave Fallon to her new friend, but when she’d finally ditched the guy and made for the kitchen, he’d been unable to stop himself from following her. He’d lagged behind just long enough to give her a sense of freedom before weaving his way to the far door. What he’d heard had caught him completely off guard. She’d been arguing with Jane over her attraction—or should he say, lack of—for Jackson. Relief washed over him and he’d planned to walk away, when Jane had said his name. He’d stopped and listened, his chest tight, his pulse racing, as Fallon had admitted, first her sexual relationship with him, and then her love.
Now he was standing on the deck, shaking. Though he’d assured himself she still wanted him, to hear her say it was more than he’d hoped for. Now he just had to find a way to get her to say it to him.
You’re an idiot if you think she’ll admit anything to you.
He snarled and pounded his fist on the railing. The voice was right. Fallon would keep her feelings a secret unless she had no doubts about his. And he didn’t know how to tell her how he felt. How do you tell someone you love them, when you’ve spent the past six months hiding from them, from the truth?
Carefully.
He smiled at the thought and turned just as Jackson walked out of the door and headed over to one of the tables Brad had set up around the deck. He watched as the man set two drinks down on the table and pulled another chair over to his side. He was obviously expecting company.
Gil turned away and headed for the other door. The last thing he needed was for Fallon to catch him spying on her, even if he had ventured to the deck first. Knowing the kind of mood she was in, she’d only see it one way…her way. He wove his way into the dining room when Jane stomped to a halt in front of him.
“What the hell’s going on?”
Gil looked the woman up and down, but it didn’t look like she was drunk. “I’m sorry, but I have absolutely no idea what you’re talking about.”
Jane sneered at him and palmed her hips. “I’m talking about Fallon. What is this case doing to her?”
The first inkling of fear prickled his skin as he quickly scanned the room. Fallon wasn’t there. “Why? Did something happen?”
Jane flipped her head up and gave him one hell of a cold glare. “You mean besides you fucking her?” She sighed and motioned towards the kitchen. “We were talking in the kitchen and she completely zoned out on me. Like she was somewhere else. I’m worried. She’s acting strange.”
“Did she say anything, or tell you what was wrong?”
“No. She gave some lame ass excuse about hitting her head while she was riding and then scurried off to the washroom like some frightened mouse.” Jane shook her head. “I can understand her trying to ditch Jackson, but…she’s never lied to me before.”
Gil nodded and grabbed her arm. “Where is she now?”
Jane shrugged. “I don’t know. I suppose either in the bathroom, or out on the deck with Jackson. Unless she decided to sneak away.”
Gil shook his head and dropped his hand. “I just came from the deck and she knows better than to go out alone. Where’s your closest washroom?”
Jane pointed to the hallway off to her left. “Through there, down the hall on the right.” She stepped in front of him as he tried to walk by her. “Wait! What’s wrong with her? Is it something to do with the case?”
Gil placed his hands on her shoulders and gently eased her out of the way. “Just do me a favour. Keep everyone away from here until I figure it out.”
Jane nodded as Gil moved past her and down the hall. The door to the washroom was closed, but he could hear someone inside. He inched closer and pressed his back against the wall as he leaned over and listened. The noise was muffled, like someone breathing through a cloth over the phone. He reached under his arm and touched the grip of his gun, wanting to know it was close if he needed it.
“Fallon?” He tapped lightly on the door, hoping she’d answer it. But nothing inside the room seemed to change. “Fallon? Are you in there, baby?”
Gil cursed the silence that answered his plea and bolted over to the other side of the door. He waited just long enough to grab his Glock, before twisting the knob open and swinging the door aside.
* * * *
Fallon stumbled across the pavement, finally slamming into a parked car. The images faded in and out of focus, making it hard to keep her balance. She glanced down at her hands, not surprised to see the glare of the road through them. She was trapped in the vision, but just barely.
“Sorry, Sue, but I’m going out with Steve tonight.”
Fallon jumped at the sudden voice, the sound harsh and loud in her head. She looked across the road, only to realise it was a parking lot. Rows of cars were stacked across the pavement, spreading out in a kaleidoscope of colour. The rain was still light, making small dark circles on the asphalt. But like her vision, it was only beginning.
“I know Steve’s still legally married. But he’s promised me it’s over.”
The woman laughed and Fallon looked over to her right. The girl was young and blonde, and if not for the fatigue darkening her eyes, she could have been mistaken for a model. She was wearing a dull blue nursing uniform with plain white sneakers and a dark shoulder purse. Her hair was pulled back in a ponytail, and the makeup she’d applied this morning was smudged on her face.
“Don’t worry, Sue. I’ll double check everything. You know me better than that. Look, I gotta run. I’m a mess and I need to stop by the apartment before I meet Steve.”
The woman clicked her phone shut and headed for a vehicle further up the lot. It was a small red hatchback, but Fallon was too far away to see the make. The woman stopped at the back and slipped her purse off her shoulder.
“Damn it, where are you!”
Fallon watched the girl dig through her purse, tossing item after item back inside. She was obviously looking for something, but Fallon’s head was too fuzzy to figure anything out. The rain was getting heavier, and a sudden gust of wind made the hairs on her arms and neck prickle.
“Salvation. Soon, it will be yours.”
The eerie voice whispered in her head just as a dark shadow moved across her. She turned as The Priest stepped in front of her, his long black jacket blowing in the breeze. She caught his scent on the wind. A heady pine musk mixed with a hint of cigar. There was another aroma mixed in as well. A sickly sweet scent that made her stomach turn and her head spin. He was standing too far ahead to see his face, but she’d come to recognise his silhouette. How he held his arrogance in the line of his back, and the way he cocked his head to one side as if listening to some hidden voice.
“Finally!”
The woman held up a set of keys and shook them once in victory, still oblivious to the man flowing towards her. The Priest didn’t make a
sound as he covered the wet pavement, stopping a breath away from the woman’s back. Even as the girl stepped forward, he moved with her, slipping one hand over her mouth as another snaked around her waist. The girl’s body stiffened in surprise, before slumping against The Priest’s chest. She tried to call out, but her voice was smothered by the distant sound of thunder. All she could do was watch the bastard lift the limp woman in his arms and carry her back to his car.
“Your altar awaits. Soon, your soul will be saved.”
He was laying her in the back and covering her beneath a blanket, smoothing his hands along her side. Fallon cringed at the sensual way he touched her, like he was her lover, not her captor.
She pushed off the car and moved towards him, fighting the constant pitching of the scenery. Her name echoed off in the distance, but she kept moving, needing to see more, to memorise every detail. She stopped a few feet behind him, wondering what would happen if she reached out and touched his jacket. The Priest reached up for the hatch, but froze as his fingers grazed the metal. He dipped his head slightly and twisted his shoulders. A chill ran down her spine as he stood poised behind his car, waiting. Then in one smooth movement he turned.
* * * *
Gil slipped into the room, sweeping the small space with his gun. Fallon was sprawled on the floor, her hair covering her face. He took two steps in before toeing the door closed and clearing the space behind. As much as he wanted to go to her, he needed to make sure she was safe first.
He inched past her, peeking into the shower stall and closet before holstering his gun and kneeling down beside her. She was panting, gasping, her body twitching. She moaned and he wasn’t sure if touching her would hurt her or bring her out of whatever she was going through.
“Look out! Behind you. Run!”
Her words were pushed out with a groan as she rolled on the floor. Gil reached out and gently brushed the hair back from her face. Sweat beaded her brow and her eyes were open, but dull. She looked scared, but didn’t react when he waved his hand in front of her.
“Fallon?”
“No. Don’t. Stop.”
Gil pulled his hand back when she flinched and gasped, breaking free from her trance as she bolted up with a soundless scream. He grabbed her shoulders, catching her before she fell back to the floor, her face white, her body shaking. Gil cradled her against his chest, smoothing her hair with his hands as she collapsed against him, her eyes drifting shut.
“Fallon?” She mumbled a reply, whispering his name as she drifted off again. Gil clenched his jaw to stave off a curse. He had no idea what to do next. “Fallon? Can you hear me?”
Her eyes fluttered and she rolled her head back, swiping her lips with her tongue. “Help. Gil.”
Gil nodded, though he knew she wasn’t watching him. “Sure, baby. Just tell me how to help you,”
Fallon coughed and whimpered. She shook her head. “No. Her.”
Gil fought the helpless feeling surging through him. He hadn’t felt this out of control since Charlie had died. “Fallon. You’re not making any sense. Who’s ‘her’?”
She moaned again and slowly opened her eyes. “The woman…in the parking lot.” She grimaced and grabbed her head. “Oh, God.”
“What woman?” He gave her a small shake when she started to fade again. “Fallon. What woman?”
She squinted up at him and he cringed. She looked so weak he wondered how she managed to stay conscious. “A nurse…Harborview…he took her…black SUV…Mercedes I think.” She pressed her palm against her head, but he could tell it wasn’t helping. “I tried to warn her…” She shook her head and sighed. “Couldn’t help her…never…”
Her voice faded off as she slumped against his chest. Even unconscious she looked as if the images and pain were still with her. Gil hugged her close and reached for his phone. Wade answered on the third ring.
“What’s wrong, Gil? Fallon decide I was her dream man after all?”
“He’s struck again.” Gil grunted as he tucked the phone under his chin and scooped Fallon off the floor. “Fallon says he took a nurse from the parking lot at Harborview and put her in the back of a black SUV. She thinks it was a Mercedes.” He moved over to the door and nudged it open with his foot. “He’s only got ten minutes on us. We need to move.”
He heard Wade swear and a chair screech across the floor. “I’m on it…hey? What do you mean ‘Fallon says’? How does she know The Priest took another woman?”
“I don’t have time to explain right now. Besides, I’m not sure I understand it all myself. Just get dispatch on it. We need a list of all the churches around the hospital.” He stepped into the hall and cursed when he saw Jane peek around the corner.
“Do you have any idea how many churches there are in this town?”
“Lots. But he’ll be going to one that’s vacant. And since it’s Sunday, that must narrow things down a little.” He rolled his eyes as Jane stormed down the hall, Brad at her heels. “Do the best you can, and call me as soon as you’ve got anything.”
“You’re not coming in?”
He could hear the uncertainty in Wade’s voice, but he didn’t have time to give a damn right now. Jane looked ready to tear more than a strip off him and Fallon’s limp weight was a constant reminder of all he had to lose. “I need to take care of Fallon. I’ll call you as soon as she’s safe.”
Gil balanced Fallon’s body with one leg as he snapped the phone shut and shoved it in his pocket, Wade’s voice still chattering on the other end. There wasn’t time to explain. He needed to get Fallon out before he ended up fighting the entire house.
“Fallon! Damn it, Gil, what the hell have you done to her?”
Gil bit back a curse and turned to face Jane. “Fallon’s fine. She just needs to rest. Now if you’ll just calm down and lower your voice…”
“Calm down? She’s unconscious! How the hell is that ‘fine’?” Jane reached out and brushed a finger down Fallon’s cheek. “What’s wrong with her?”
“It’s hard to explain. Let’s just say she’s having a few side-effects from the case.” He looked up at Brad and nodded towards the man’s wife. “I’m sure Fallon can fill you in on everything once she’s regained her strength. But for now, I need to get her home.”
With that he brushed past the couple, pleased to see Brad settle his hands on Jane’s shoulders when the woman went to follow him. Now if he could just get out the side door before anyone else showed up.
“Hey, Jane? Have you seen Fallon? She hasn’t…” Jackson’s voice wavered into a strangled growl as he rounded the doorway and nearly collided with Gil. Gil snorted and tried to push past the man, but Jackson stepped forward and blocked his way. “What the hell’s going on?” he demanded.
Gil all but stomped his foot on the floor as he sighed out his frustration and shifted Fallon in his arms. “I’m taking Fallon home. In case you haven’t noticed, she’s suffering from exhaustion and the sooner I can put her to bed, the better.”
Jackson sneered at him and took another step forward, forcing Gil back a step. “She was fine just a few minutes ago.” He gave Gil the once over. “I don’t suppose you had anything to do with her sudden illness?”
“You know, I’m getting awfully tired of being the scapegoat.” Gil moved forward, this time forcing Jackson to backup. “Now as I see it, we can play this two ways. Either you get out of my way, and I walk out of here with Fallon, or I can put her down and we can take our differences outside.” He drew himself up. “But either way, she’s leaving here with me.”
Jackson glanced over Gil’s shoulder at Brad, but didn’t get out of the way. “And who are you to make decisions for Fallon?”
“I’m the guy she’s going to be spending the rest of her life with,” he bit out, making Jackson flinch. “So do us both a favour and get the hell out of my way.”
Jackson looked at Fallon before stepping aside, his lips pulled into a thin line. Gil nodded as he walked out the door and headed for his tru
ck.
Chapter Eighteen
Gil sat in the chair, watching Fallon twist and turn on the bed. She’d been unconscious since Jane’s house, and he’d made the twenty minute drive in ten, placing her on the bed while he paced the floor waiting for the men Trevor had agreed to send over. They’d pulled up fifteen minutes later and had stayed parked on the other side of the road ever since. And while that had eased some of the tension, Gil still couldn’t seem to relax. Not until Fallon woke up and explained exactly what the hell was going on.
A jingle of music shattered his concentration.
“Talk to me, Wade.”
“How’s Fallon?”
“Unconscious. Any leads on our man?”
Wade sighed and Gil knew the answer before the man spoke. “It’s harder than trying to find a virgin at a frat party. Do you have any idea the numbers we’re up against?”
“There can’t be that many once you eliminate all the churches having mass or Sunday school today,” countered Gil.
“Apparently you’re not up on all the various religious sects in our fine city. Over half of them don’t hold traditional services, not to mention the ones that don’t associate anything with Sunday.” Wade paused and Gil felt a shiver run down his spine.
“What?” he demanded.
“You know how much I like your girl, Gil…”
“But,” he interrupted.
“We need more if we’re going to stop this guy before he kills the woman.” Wade sighed into the phone again. “I don’t suppose she can connect or materialise or whatever she does again and tell us where the bastard is now?”
“She’s fucking passed out on the bed. Exactly how do you expect me to get more information out of her?” He raked a shaky hand through his hair as he tried to calm his nerves. Shouting at Wade wasn’t going to help anything. “I’m sorry. I just don’t know what to do. I’ve never…let me see if I can wake her up. I’ll call you back.”