A few minutes later, he bowed low, presenting her with a cup of Dippin’ Dots. “For you, fair damsel!”
That earned him a real smile and he laughed out loud. About damn time! Note to self: Ply her with sugar.
Rori took the treat and remarked with less of a smile, “You don’t have to do this.”
“On the contrary, I do. It’s my job to make sad women smile. And you, well, you should never be sad.” He kissed her knuckles, winking up at her.
She didn’t respond, but nibbled a tiny taste of the ice cream. Oh, yeah. Lost puppies were his downfall. The sun glinted off the curtain of her hair, spotlighting streaks of deep red. Unable to resist, he let it fall through his fingers. He’d thought it was black… but no, it was a blend of rich chocolate, burgundy, midnight… silky soft and straight as a blade.
“Declan, I’m scared.”
“Don’t be. I told you we’d take care of this. Killian’s an expert in occult things. He’ll know exactly what to do. Everything will be okay. I promise.”
She rested a hand on his thigh before jerking it back. “That’s not what I mean. I’m… I’m afraid to be near you.”
“And here I thought I’d finally brainwashed you into believing I’m one of the good guys.”
“I’m serious.”
He couldn’t resist. He ran his palm over her hair again. “I am too. I know you don’t know everything about me, but I’m not going to hurt you. Are you still worried about that?”
She faced him and said, “No. It’s not that.” She paused, seeming to struggle to find the right words. “My visions… everyone dies. I see them die. I’ve never been able to save anyone.” She sat the half-eaten cup of ice cream on the bench and looked out at the street again.
“And?”
An hour later, they stopped in front of one of the prettiest buildings she had ever seen. Even though she’d lived in New York most of her life, she hardly ever came to this part of Manhattan. Her foster families hadn’t been this well off. The red brick with curling cream accents was old-fashioned and elegant. The glass doors had bright brass handles that gleamed from constant polishing. Craning her neck, she searched for the roof. Gargoyles glowered down at her nosiness.
“This place is beautiful. I can’t believe you have a penthouse here. What business are you in again?” He’d never really given her a straight answer.
“Personal security. Let’s go. They’re waiting for us.”
The entire lobby was a work of art. She wished there was time to slow down to admire it. The walls were covered with stained glass artwork and deep red draperies. Elegant crystal chandeliers winked in the oversized foyer. The black and white marble floors gleamed. Pretty seating tableaus were scattered throughout the lobby, inviting guests to sit with a cup of tea and a newspaper or two.
Declan steered them towards an elevator slowing, only to smile and say hello to the concierge.
“It’s nice to see you again, Mr. Manning.”
Giving him a quick handshake, he answered, “Same here, Jacob. Have a good time at the game tonight.”
To Rori, he said, “Jacob’s been here forever. He’s a huge Mets fan. We gave him season tickets last year. He’s a good guy.”
The elevator spit them out on the 18th floor. It was just as pretty as she remembered before her hasty retreat. Black marble floors, rich blue walls, and vivid geometric paintings burst into view as soon as they left the car. Tasteful wall sconces provided dim lighting to show them the way to the penthouse door. There was a small niche next to it.
“Is this an angel?” She wanted to touch the gleaming gold but didn’t want to seem gauche.
Plucking the small statue from its resting place, he offered it to her. “It’s a cherub, technically. Think of it as our mascot. You can touch it. It’s okay.”
It was warm like human skin. A slight tingle zinged along her fingertips as she stroked the tiny, folded wings. The texture was soft, smooth, not at all what she expected. Strange. Handing it back, she took a deep breath. It was time to go in and figure out what’s wrong inside her head. Yay. This ought to be a great time.
Declan was in the process of opening the door, but hesitated. Her heart did a little flip flop and a bounce. Reaching out, he drew her into his arms and held her carefully. No passion, no tension, just warmth and comfort. Gone was the stress and fear of the unknown.
Tipping her chin back to look into her eyes, he vowed, “I promise that we’ll help you, Rori. Please trust me. Trust my family.”
She smiled and said, “I trust you, Declan.”
He pressed a kiss against her forehead and replied, “Good. I’m ridiculously famous for being trustworthy. My Twitter handle is @TrustDec. One more thing, please stop calling me Declan. Only one person still calls me Declan, and he’s not trainable.”
The first person to greet them was the gorgeous brunette from the picture frame. Dressed in a gauzy purple and white sundress with strappy, gold heels, she practically tackled Dec in a bear hug. Dec whooped once, swung her around in a circle, and kissed her on both cheeks before setting her back on her feet. For a long moment they only had eyes for each other, and Rori tried to ignore a tug in her gut. Long wavy hair, huge blue eyes, wide smile and trim, muscular body… this woman was everything she wasn’t. Damn. It figures. She wanted to sink into the floor. Staring at her ratty sandals and frayed sundress, her bravado took a nose dive. What was she doing here? These people were from a whole ‘nother planet. She didn’t belong with them. Edging back against the wall, she tried to blend into the plaster.
A deep voice rumbled quietly beside her, “Welcome, Rori.”
She jumped with a smothered squawk. How did someone his size move so silently?
He held out a paw for her to shake. “I’m Killian. Remember? The amazing woman you’re worried about is my wife, Mica. She and Dec are like brother and sister. Trust me. Dec would be dead if that wasn’t the case.”
Well, how do I take that? Looming beside her with an unreadable expression, he kept his tone nonchalant, but she got the feeling he was deadly serious. She took a step back and he sighed. So this was Killian? She vaguely remembered him from the cemetery. She tried to check him out without anyone noticing. He was much bigger than she remembered. Towering above her, he was easily 6’3”… taller than both Dec and Sean. His shoulders and chest were wider; he was more thickly muscled than Dec for sure. Dec was muscular but had a longer, leaner look to him. With his hard face and dark shadow across the jaw, Killian was attractive… in a stalking jaguar kind of way. Beautiful while capable of ripping her throat out… she backed farther away. Really big men intimidated her. Killian wasn’t an exception.
So much for no one noticing her inspection... When she bothered to look at his face again, she realized he was staring back with a hint of a grin curling his mouth. He seemed to look right into her soul. Yeah, that wasn’t a comfortable feeling at all. She shifted her gaze to Dec and admired the curve of his butt. He had a fine butt. A quick flash of their almost sex scene turned her knees to jelly. Damn, he was hot. She totally wanted to wrap her legs around him.
Killian cleared his throat. Oh, crap! She was so busted. His eyes sparkled until he broke into a laugh that drew everyone’s attention.
Great! All eyes on me!
Dec practically flew over to them, demanding, “What did you do to her?”
She blushed even more impossibly red because Killian shrugged and replied, “Don’t look at me. I didn’t touch her.”
Mica elbowed past both men, a friendly smile on her pretty face. “Hi, I’m Mica, and I’m so happy to meet you finally. Dec can’t stop talking about you. He’s been blowing up my phone for weeks.”
“Dude! You have no filter whatsoever!” To Rori, he said, “Ignore the meddling wench. She can’t help herself. So you’ve met Killian and Sean already.” He nudged her forward to meet an older man. He dipped his head in a formal gesture of respect. “This is Raphael.”
Raphael seemed to be in
his 40s or so. Handsome without prettiness, he was tall and fit just like the others. He clasped her hand between his and said, “Welcome, Rori Austin. I’m told you’re in need of some assistance. I believe you’ve come to the right place.”
Flushing at her own awkwardness, she resisted the sudden urge to curtsey. He was as poised as royalty. “It’s nice to meet you. I hope someone can help me. This is all a little creepy, but Dec’s been really insistent. He seems mostly harmless.” Did she say that out loud? Her face flamed even hotter. Dec coughed into his hand and looked away, shoulders shaking.
“Indeed he is.” He squeezed her fingers gently and said to Killian, “I don’t believe you have need of me after all.” He and Mica exchanged glances before he turned back to Killian. “Mica can see to it.”
Mica and Killian shared a long look and she finally commented, “Piece of cake. Stop worrying. The boys are fine. My dad’s probably taking them fishing today.”
Raphael smiled a little wistfully at that before touching Rori’s arm. “All will be well, child. You mustn’t fight what you don’t understand, or you will never learn what you need. Have faith in Declan; he will see it through.”
Mica pulled her husband into the back bedroom and closed the door. “Well?”
“Tell her you’re hypnotizing her. Keep it simple. We need to test my theory. We’ll wait to tell her until it’s proven out. She’s such a skeptic she won’t believe us without some real proof.”
Wrapping her arms around his waist, she rested her cheek on his chest, his medallion brushing her skin with its warmth. “I feel so sorry for her. She’s a wreck, Killian. Guilt, fear, confusion! There’s so much pain coming from her that it’s giving me a headache. Can’t you feel it?”
One of Mica’s strongest psychic powers was her ability to sense emotions in others. She was a highly sensitive Empath. This gift, courtesy of Michael--the Michael--Archangel above them all--was a dubious one. Until she’d learned to rope off her feelings from others around her, she was a target for every emotion within spitting distance. At first it had overwhelmed her, gave her splitting headaches, made her embarrassingly weepy. But then Killian taught her how to shut herself off from the constant bombardment and how to turn it on again at will. She’d turned it on the minute Rori came into the hotel. What she sensed made her stomach churn.
Killian idly rubbed her back and replied, “She doesn’t understand her visions, babe. She really believes she’s seeing premonitions that she can’t stop. The guilt of those deaths weighs on her soul. She needs to understand. You’ll help her with that. I know you will.” He tucked a lock of her hair behind an ear and kissed her, mouth lingering longer than time allowed.
She wiped a smudge of lipstick from the corner of his mouth. “And what about the other problem?”
“I’m working on it.”
Two hours later, Mica and Rori were curled at opposite ends of the couch, sipping glasses of wine. Mica mentioned it was her favorite cabernet. Rori had nothing to gauge it against since she was a wine virgin. Mica had taken charge, ordering the men around until she had everything she wanted. Dec had fetched cheese and crackers. Sean picked up the wine. Then the men had vanished. Not literally. They were shoved out the front door. It was girls’ night in.
Mica leaned over and topped off her glass for the third time. Rori buried her nose in the delicate crystal, inhaling the rich, fruity vapors. “How does something that tastes so funky smell so good?”
“Black cherry with a hint of cocoa. Mmm, and a note of smoke at the finish.” Mica laughed before lifting her glass in a toast. “To new friends who have no taste in wine!”
She giggled and tried to tap her glass to Mica’s. She swayed, and Mica’s face swam in front of her. Her new friend carefully plucked the glass from her shaky hands and set it on the coffee table.
“I think it’s time, Rori. Are you ready now?” Her voice was lovely, smooth, hypnotic.
She found herself nodding. Okay, sure, let’s do this. They sat cross-legged facing each other on the couch. Resting on the top of their knees, their fingers were loosely entwined. Mica’s touch was infinitely gentle as she carefully positioned Rori’s wrist so it wouldn’t be jostled. She gave Rori’s hands a light squeeze, nodding with encouragement when she responded by showing a tiny pained smile. Holy shit, she was about to be hypnotized! She should’ve been more freaked out about this, but somehow she just couldn’t find the energy.
Mica chided softly, “Lightweight. Sit back so you don’t fall over.”
“I feel weird.”
“I’m sure you do. Probably you didn’t need that third glass. Are you ready?”
“I think so.”
“Okay, I’m going to need you to keep your eyes open and just relax. I’ll see what’s going on with those visions. I should be able to see what you can’t remember. It won’t hurt at all, but you need to let me in. Will you let me in, Rori?” She used the same coaxing tone. It was soft, warm, compelling. The sound drew Rori to her. She actually leaned closer. Mica smoothed a stray bit of hair from her cheek.
She nodded again. “Go ahead. Do it.”
Mica studied her latest patient with satisfaction. Perfect. Rori was on her way to a bitch of a hangover, but they’d worry about that tomorrow. Right now, her tipsiness was just what the doctor ordered. They’d all agreed to leave the choice up to Rori. Sure, they had other ways to see her memories. They could’ve knocked her out and invaded her mind; or worse, just invaded her mind and ransacked it. None of them wanted to go those routes. If their suspicions were right, she had some pretty amazing psychic abilities. They wouldn’t want to lose her trust when she clearly needed their help.
Of course, all of them had already done their usual unobtrusive readings--the Primani typically read a person’s intentions through their eyes; it was a quick way of weeding out bad people right up front. It made their jobs easier to know what they were dealing with. In Rori’s case, Sean had already gotten a butt chewing for digging too deeply into her memories. In his defense, he was only trying to help. His search shouldn’t have bothered her, but it did. They suspected the demon shut her down.
Rori was struggling with more than one issue right now, and they all wanted to help her, not hurt her. Raphael was right. They didn’t need him to heal her just yet. Mica had the touch. She’d be able to peel back the layers. She was getting very good at this sort of thing.
But that didn’t mean she didn’t want back up. Smiling serenely at Rori, she sent her thoughts to Killian.
I’m ready. Are you here?
Sure, babe. Let’s do it.
To Rori, she said, “I’m going to count to ten, and you’ll be asleep. Okay?” At Rori’s wobbly nod, she started to count. Rori was under by six.
With practiced movements, she held her locket in one hand, waiting until it shone bright as a tiny sun before flaming out once more. The pale rune on the back of her hand began to glow as she allowed her sight to take control. Staring into the clear toffee irises, she breathed deeply and got to work. Each iris was a hundred different shades of brown, from the lightest of honey to the richest burnt sienna. Dec had described them as bourbon colored, but that was a one dimensional description. In Mica’s view, all irises were formed of delicate puzzle pieces that had to be carefully separated to reveal the mysteries within the human mind. The colors fascinated her every time she did this.
The tiny click of recognition announced that Killian’s mind was in synch with hers. Over the years, they’d perfected their technique. Intricately joined by their shared powers and Raphael’s blood, they were able to do what no one else could. Through their shared psychic connection, Killian could project himself into her mind at will. She would allow him access to help her with the trip through Rori’s psyche. As usual, his image, like an avatar, joined her inside the tranquil meditation room she’d created within her imagination. He gave her a nod of encouragement before she carefully peeled the last puzzle piece. True partners in every way, he’d neve
r let her do this without being her safety net.
Time to focus. She was in. Visualizing herself standing in the center of Rori’s mind, she got her bearings and began her journey. She pictured herself walking through Rori’s life, moving backwards in time, seeing the images from Rori’s perspective. Pictures, sounds, emotions, even scents, poured over her like a stream of water. Careful not to distress Rori, she let them float by as she slipped through them.
At first, they were simple images of the past few days… whoa! Making out with Dec was clearly a red letter event based on the clarity of every aspect of the memory. Her mind had captured every tiny detail in perfect preservation: the feel of his lips on her skin, the exact second his eyes went smoky with desire, and the heat of his hands cupping her. She slammed her eyes shut against the porn. Ewww! TMI, for God’s sake! Killian chuckled at her horror.
I could’ve lived my entire immortal life without seeing that. Probably I’m scarred forever.
You’ll live, Princess. It does explain some things, don’t you think?
He was right, as usual. Dec’s interest in Rori was starting to make sense. She wasn’t just a charge to him…
And Rori’s feelings were more than she let on. She seemed calm on the surface, but in here, her emotions didn’t have any place to hide. She’d gazed at Dec with lust in her eyes and panic in her heart.
Rori seemed to be handling Mica’s intrusion well enough for her to speed up the process. Walking faster caused the days to blur past. Days turned to weeks; weeks to years… It took almost no time to uncover years of memories because each day was nearly identical… Live alone, go to school, live alone, go to work, live alone, go to the library. The pattern was broken only by stops at the cemetery and rare conversations with a priest. Where was her father? Where were her friends? What about happy hour? No boyfriends? Who was this Raine guy? He’d popped up in more recent memories… Rori’s emotions fluttered around him. Not love… friendship? Attraction? Well, he did have a smokin’ body…
Broken Souls (Primani Book 4) Page 12