The two of them had been cooling their heels all afternoon until Sean declared he needed some cow. Sometimes room service was a beautiful thing. He pushed his empty plate across the marble bar and tossed a napkin basketball into the sink. He’d killed his steak, fries, and a beer in record time. Saving damsels gave him an appetite.
“Yes and no. She woke up totally freaking out and didn’t even recognize me. I caught some of her thoughts but nothing that made sense. She seemed confused about the date. No idea what that was about. I put her back to sleep.”
Sean sat his fork down and leaned back. His mouth turned up at one corner. “Exactly why would you do that? You know the protocol. You’re supposed to get her up, get her talking, and get her out of here. You can’t keep knocking her out. You’ll scramble her brains.”
He chuckled. “Stop nagging, grandma. Unlike you, I can always heal her brains if I break them. She just seemed so upset… I thought more rest would help. Why don’t you go check out her place--see if you can find that demon. I’ll stay here and keep her company until she wakes up.”
Giving him the hairy eyeball, Sean stood and stretched. “Uh-huh, sure. ‘Cuz demons always leave traces behind when they appear in someone’s dreams. But sure, why not? This could be the first time.” He picked up his cellphone and added more seriously, “Be careful, okay? You don’t know this woman, and there’s a demon involved. She could be bait.”
That thought had already occurred to him, so he just shrugged and said, “I know what I’m doing. It’s all good.”
The second Sean left, he bolted back to the spare bedroom. As he approached the door, a low keening sound stopped him in his tracks. The mournful cry made his skin crawl. Rori! He ripped open the door to find her right where he left her except the sheets and pillow were scattered across the floor. Suddenly she clutched at her head, the same keening cry coming from deep inside her chest. Tears rolled down her cheeks.
The tears did it.
“Ah, hell, woman.”
Folding her in his arms, he rocked her, crooning words of comfort. Her pain was like a knife to his chest. What nightmares haunted this woman? What did she see when she closed her eyes?
“Shh. It’s okay.” He smoothed the hair away from her eyes until she settled. Carefully stroking, soothing her, he kissed her temple, resting his lips against her damp skin. She mumbled in her sleep, and he held her closer. The words terrified him. She was in some serious trouble. Trouble she couldn’t handle alone.
When her tears slowed and her breathing steadied, he ran his hands over her back. Didn’t she eat? Didn’t she have food? She was so slight she was nothing against his strength. Lifting her up and down once, he realized her bottom fit perfectly against his lap. He wasn’t the biggest guy on the planet, but he overwhelmed her, covering her like a blanket. He flashed a grin at his helpful imagination. Probably that wasn’t the best analogy. It made him think of beds… and beds were made for more than nightmares. But that was a thought for another day, another female.
She was calm now, her breath coming in deep, even measures; her heart beating normally. He tipped her back to look down at her face. Her eyelids were closed and still. The nightmare was probably gone. Her lips parted just a bit. One last tear trickled into her hair.
“No more tears, sweetheart.” He caught the drop with a stroke of his bottom lip. That tiny drop of liquid unleashed a flood of sensations inside of him. His mouth watered. A hot flash lit him up just as his vision went white. He was paralyzed to resist the images ricocheting through his mind. Bracing himself against a killer wave of dizziness, he held on for the ride.
Flickering flashes of color… reds… oranges… yellows bombarded his inner vision, drawing his eye, blinding him. Shifting walls in every nuance of black and grey… obsidian, charcoal, cold silver… gleaming, shimmering, knifed through the schizophrenic colors. The walls rose up like mountains through lava. Flickering and shifting, blinding light and sucking blackness, drew him deeper, pushed him to the edge. Just as he thought he was lost, the images coalesced to reveal leaping flames and shadows.
Shadows and flames… very slowly the focus of the vision zoomed in to reveal a woman standing in the center of a cavernous space. Its inky blackness was broken only by the glow of orange and red flames. Insubstantial as a wraith, she drifted towards a massive, arched window in the front of the room. As she moved, the fire dogged her steps, licking at the walls, undulating and swirling into the shadows, but never touching her. It nudged her forward.
Within the darker recesses, something moved. It slipped in and out of the shadows, faster than his eyes could track until suddenly the entire vision vanished into an empty void… then as abruptly as it disappeared, it burst back into view.
They were in front of the window… just out of focus… black as night… sleek, powerful, inviting. Eerily beautiful, seductive. The woman was mesmerized. She tilted her face to rub it against their softness. They unfolded into a graceful arc across the window. She reached to touch them and…
“Rori! Wake up!” He tried to shake her awake. When she didn’t respond fast enough for his jangled nerves, he shot her with a hard jolt of his soal. Unused to the force of the current, she yelped in surprise and sat straight up. Sorry about that.
Her eyes went huge when she saw where she was sitting. Scrambling to get up, she slid straight towards the carpet even as he grabbed her arm. Instinctively latching on, she tumbled backwards with him in tow.
He landed sprawled atop her, his hands just catching the weight of his body. Laughing out loud, Dec grinned into her shocked face.
“Get off me!”
Totally enjoying the humor of the situation, he scolded, “That’s not very romantic. You can do better than that, right?”
Apparently not. She panicked, pushing at him, her pupils unfocused with sudden terror. “I have to write it down! I have to write it down!”
Too stunned to react, he gaped, trying to make sense of her words.
She went berserk. Shoving at his arms, kicking at his legs, she went into full wildcat mode. “Get off! Get off! I need to write it down,” she sobbed. “Please! I’m going to forget it!”
Hauling her upright, he yanked open the nightstand and tossed her a pad of paper and an old pen. With wild eyes, she flung herself down and started to write. Focusing entirely on the words, she seemed to forget he was there.
After ten minutes, she slowly sat the pen aside and lifted the pad. Growling in obvious frustration, she crumpled the page and threw it against the wall.
Watching her from the corner of his eye, he carefully unfolded the paper. What’s this mean? He was more confused than before. There were only two words. Written over and over again, they covered the page from front to back.
“We should talk. Are you okay now?”
“Yeah. Let’s talk. Why don’t we start with who you are and where I’m at?”
Her tone was most unhappy. Bowing with a flourish, he said, “My name is Declan Manning. We’ve met before. I’m a little insulted that you don’t remember me. You’re in my company’s penthouse near Gramercy Park. Don’t freak out; we’re not alone. My brother, Sean, is staying here. We didn’t know what to do with you when we found you passed out in the flower shop, so we brought you here.”
“Haven’t you ever heard of a hospital? The last thing I remember is going to work… Wait a minute... You were at my building, weren’t you? Did you follow me to the store? Why would you do that?” Her eyes drifted to the bed, narrowing as she tried to put the pieces together. “This is a little creepy for me.”
“No doubt. But seriously, we weren’t trying to kidnap you. We thought it was a good idea to check on you after what happened. I swear we were just making sure you were okay!” Gesturing towards the door, he suggested, “You’d probably be more comfortable in the living room. Let’s go sit in there.” He couldn’t help smiling at the suspicion on her face. Didn’t he look trustworthy? Unable to resist messing with her, he jabbed a thum
b at the warzone on the bed, adding, “I promise you made that disaster all by yourself.”
She flushed nearly purple at the implication and shoved him out of the way. He followed behind not looking at her ass… Once they were settled in the open space of the living room, he took a deep breath and hoped his mouth got the words right for a change.
“I know you don’t have any reason to believe me, but I might be able to help you with some of your problems.” There. Ball’s in her court.
Sitting cross-legged on an overstuffed armchair, Rori gave him a top-to-bottom inspection. Help her? With what exactly? Who was this guy? What was in it for him? He’d saved her butt this morning. The timing had been perfect, but she’d assumed he and his friend were just walking by. A right place, right time sort of thing. But then he showed up at Angela’s. Coincidence? Maybe he was telling the truth; they were only making sure she was all right. It sounded reasonable.
Even though she didn’t know him from Adam, he didn’t give her a creepy vibe. Probably she was crazy, but he just seemed trustworthy, kind. There was a strange sort of serenity about him that relaxed her. It could be his laid back attitude rubbing off. As she checked him out, he sat on the arm of the couch with one bare foot on the cushion, the other one on the floor for balance. He wore a pair of loose navy and white board shorts with a faded Hang Ten t-shirt. The shirt hugged his shoulders like he’d owned it forever. She noticed he had the same tan from his toes to his forehead. Surf, much?
The man in question was patiently waiting for her to respond, with an adorably sincere gleam in his eyes. His mouth curled into the barest hint of a smile while he studied a guitar pick he’d been toying with. Cute or not, it was probably time to go.
“I appreciate your help today. I really do. But other than beating up more gangbangers, what kind of help are you offering? I don’t need anything else except maybe a ride home, if that’s not a problem.”
“Sure, love, I’ll be glad to take you home whenever you’re ready, but I think you should rest a minute first. Passing out isn’t something to just blow off.” With that, he tucked the pick into his pocket, slid from the arm to the cushion, kicked that smile to the curb, and got down to business. “You had a nightmare earlier. Do you want to talk about it?”
“Whoa! No foreplay first?” Her heart jumped a beat at the sudden flash of heat in his eyes.
Instead of making a sexy comment back, he covered his mouth to hide his grin and said, “This is important, Rori.”
“Apparently so. Why do you want to know?”
He hesitated as if unsure how to answer that. After a second, he clasped her hands between his own, squeezing tightly. A soft tingle floated up her arms… Mmm, nice… her muscles relaxed, her eyes drooped… she caught herself swaying in the chair and stiffened before she fell on her face.
He smiled slow and easy as if she was doing exactly what he wanted. He squeezed her fingers and prodded, “The dream, Rori? Will you tell me about it, please? It might make you feel better if you tell someone.”
“Sure. Okay.”
Rori started to tell him about the fire and the wings, but the words wouldn’t make it past her lips. Stuttering, she said, “Th… th… there’s fire… and…”
Nodding with encouragement, he asked, “Fire? Okay, good. And then what?”
“Fire… and…” Damn it. She couldn’t get the words out. Clearing her throat, she tried again. “Fire… fire…” She closed her eyes and the shadows and wings returned. She saw them clearly in her mind.
He searched her face and finally sighed long and hard with a groan tacked onto the end. Clearly he was irritated with her. Not that she could blame him! Why couldn’t she just answer the question? The vision was right there! She saw the familiar traces of it lingering clear as day. But when she tried to tell him about it, the words wouldn’t come. Why the hell not? It didn’t seem like a big deal.
“Don’t stress. I’m not in a hurry.” Dec captured her chin between his fingertips. “Let’s try something else.”
He gave her jaw one last playful tap with his fingertip before leaning away. Smothering a yawn, she listed to the side, giggling softly as he caught her by the shoulders.
“Steady, darlin’. No need to fall at my feet now.” The teasing tone was smooth as silk.
Silk? That’s an odd description. True though… his voice was soft, silky, soothing… she wanted to tell him everything, tell him anything he wanted. She had a vague thought to laugh but didn’t have the energy. Instead, she smiled, thinking she probably looked ridiculous. He murmured something encouraging before a faint woodsy fragrance tickled her nose.
“Okay, angel, you’re really relaxed now. Your mind is open to you. Look deep inside and see if you can find that vision. Take your time and let it come to you. Can you see anything besides fire? Impressions?” The slight lilt in his voice relaxed her. Not Australian. Irish?
Was there anything else? She racked her brain but only the fuzzy image of fire remained. Everything else was just gone. This was part of her problem though, wasn’t it?
“I’m sorry. I can’t remember anything else. That’s why I have to write them down. I forget them if I don’t.”
“Write them down? Why do you feel like you have to remember them? They’re just dreams, aren’t they?”
She shook her head, chasing away the lingering feeling of drowsiness. She could never explain this nightmare to him. How would he ever understand? Dreams, visions, nightmares--it didn’t matter what you called them. They still came to her, out of the blue, startling with symbolism she didn’t quite comprehend. Then there were the other visions… they were clearly real people, people who existed. Shuddering that old nightmare aside, she tried for a more sarcastic tone. She was finished with this crying bullshit. She had to get her emotions under some kind of control again. It was embarrassing.
“Sure, they’re just dreams. Just like the Rangers is just another hockey team. Yeah, just a dream.”
She wished to God they were only strange dreams. She’d begged God for them to be dreams. Begged, pled, prayed… whatever. She’d given up trying months ago. No one was listening to anything she said.
He frowned. “Okay, call me confused. Aren’t the Rangers just a hockey team? Nothing special? Did I miss something last year? They didn’t win the cup.”
Rolling her eyes, she scoffed at his naiveté. “Whatever, man. You’re not a true New Yorker if you aren’t a Rangers fan. Anyhow, I don’t know if they’re just dreams. That’s the problem. I… I don’t remember enough and then…” She stopped, biting down on her lip to keep from saying the damning words out loud.
With his palm smoothing across her clenched fist, he prompted, “What happens? Tell me, Rori. Please.”
She uncurled her fist and exhaled through her nose. “People die.”
The pain came so suddenly she didn’t have time to cry out before sliding to the floor. Clutching at her temples, she screamed, “No!”
Everything went black.
“Sonofabitch!” Shoving himself away from Rori’s body, he sent a frantic call out to Raphael.
What the hell was happening with this woman? She’d collapsed again! He was at a loss. He’d even checked her for a brain tumor. There was some weird shit going on. He could use some help.
He paced the length of the island until the subtle shift in air pressure warned him that he had angelic company. Storming into the foyer, he practically hugged his maker for coming so fast.
“Thank God! I’m so glad to see you! I don’t know what to do with her.” He pointed to Rori who was lying on the couch. He’d taken her pain away and dropped her into a deep sleep.
Raphael simply raised his eyebrows and said, “I’m always here for you, Declan. Though I must admit I’m a little surprised at you. You have a woman on the couch.” He actually cracked a smile. “And you’re calling me for help?”
“Is everyone worried about my sex life? Seriously? Rori’s not just a woman. She’s a psychic. I k
now it.”
“Ah. I see. No need to get snippy with me. What do you need from me? Is she ill?”
He paused to find the right words. “I believe her mind is under attack. I think she’s got a demon on her tail. She’s been having visions and unexplainable episodes of unconsciousness. She’s just blacking out without any reason I can see. I caught a glimpse of one of her visions and it’s not good. If this demon is sniffing around like I think he is, he’s working his way into possessing her. The vision is a huge clue, but I don’t know what it means yet. I was trying to get to the bottom of it when she grabbed her head and collapsed. I tried to heal her… but there’s no injury.”
The archangel listened while studying Rori’s face. Squatting by her side, he rested a lean hand on her forehead before closing his eyes in concentration. After a moment, he said, “I’m not sensing wounds of any kind. You’re certain she was in pain?”
“Absolutely. She scared the shit out of me. One second we were talking about hockey, the next she screamed and dropped like a rock.” He lowered his eyes to the lady in question and asked, “Do you think it’s demonic? It feels that way to me.”
Raphael gave Rori’s arm a light pat and stood. “It’s possible, though I’m not sure why they’d target her. She seems ordinary enough. But there is something unusual about her. I’m sensing a restlessness in her soul that shouldn’t be there. Let me do some digging. Perhaps there’s more to your Sleeping Beauty than meets the eye.”
He glanced at the clock and suggested, “You know it’s still early. Perhaps you and your lady friend should go dancing. It’s a beautiful night.” With that, he dematerialized.
Et tu, Raphael?
“Declan? Hello?” Rori hesitated at the entrance to the roof top garden. Wow.
The sun had just slipped over the western horizon, leaving the sky a rich sapphire blue. A few misty mare tales raced across the sky, backlit pink by the last few rays of sunlight. She watched until the pink faded. Beautiful. As if it were waiting for a signal, the city burst into life around her. With 18 floors, their hotel was one of the taller buildings on the block. High-rise apartments loomed in the distance, their modern glass structures glowing with life as people settled in for the night. She was standing in a penthouse! It was crazy. How did she end up in this place? Apartments were astronomical anywhere around Manhattan, let alone a sweet penthouse overlooking Gramercy Park. This gorgeous place must’ve cost a fortune! Who were these people?
Broken Souls (Primani Book 4) Page 8