She needed him. That much was crystal clear. So he sat. He held and protected her. He helped her heal. That was his job, right?
When her sobs had petered off to occasional sniffs, he let go long enough to fish a crumpled napkin from his pocket. Passing it to her, he kissed the top of her forehead as she mopped at her face and blew her nose. Grimacing at the wet sounds, he handed her the rest of the wad of napkins hidden under the hotdog wrappers. She coughed and laughed at the same time. It was a weepy sort of laugh, but a laugh just the same. It was a start.
“Ugh. My head’s killing me now! I hate crying.” She rubbed her temples and winced.
“Let me do that for you.” Making tiny circles around her temples, he very carefully healed her aching head. His hands tingled as the healing energy seeped from his thumbs to her forehead. She closed her eyes in obvious bliss and sighed. Her lips were red and swollen from crying, her cheeks flushed bright. Suddenly those hypnotic cat’s eyes caught his. Each gleamed with tears that accentuated the glorious bourbon irises. Beautiful eyes. Beautiful woman. They pulled at something inside of him, drew him in until he wanted to drown in them. With a mind of their own, his fingers drifted over her brow bone, circling her eyes, the tender flesh underneath them, the delicate skin of her lids until they both held their breaths at the spark flowing between them.
“Dec… I--”
He cut her off by kissing her. She opened her mouth in surprise and he took advantage, deepening the kiss, wrapping both hands in her hair and pulling her closer. He couldn’t seem to help himself. Later, he’d probably regret this, but right now he needed to taste her, to feel her respond--respond to him. Rori moaned against his mouth, breasts pressing into him, hands tangled in his hair. He was breathing hard when he had the sense to end the kiss.
He sat back, shaken to the bone, surprised he wasn’t on fire. His saol raced close to the surface, striving to be closer to her. His fingers tingled. He glanced at the tips of his fingers. They lit up with the force of the current. Ah, hell. This was not good. She licked her lip, eyeing him with surprise and more than a little hunger. Her pupils were dilated; she couldn’t catch her breath. Yes! She wanted him. Too bad he couldn’t get up now.
Sick old ladies. Baseball. Liver. Liver and onions. Raw sewage.
She watched Dec with more than a little wariness. Electricity still crackled between them. He’d just rocked her to the core on the steps of the Metropolitan Museum of Art. She’d never be able to come here again. People were still gawking. She peeked around his shoulder to check. Yep, the hotdog guy caught her glance and adjusted the package in his pants. Ewwww. Great. On the corner, a teenaged girl gave her a thumbs up while tucking her cell back into her pocket. Yay. Well, that’s one video that’ll go viral. Awesome. I’ll be famous.
Dec’s eyes were closed. He looked like he was in serious pain. She nudged him in the ribs, and his eyes flew open. “Did you just say ‘raw sewage’? What are you doing?”
His dimples exploded with a flush of pink. “I had to think of something gross. We can’t sit here all day.”
What was he talking about? She started to ask when the light bulb went off. Oh! Now she turned bright red and mumbled, “Sorry.”
Now he laughed out loud and said, “I should be the one apologizing to you. I don’t know what I was thinking mauling you in the middle of broad daylight. I’m an animal.” Springing up, he reached down to give her a hand. “Do you still want to go inside? There’s time before they close for the day.”
The Met was one of her favorite places. She’d been coming here, haunting the place really, for as long as she could remember. The Met and the library were the only two places she could go for peace and quiet. It was her day off, but the man refused to let her sleep in. She’d been sleeping at the penthouse for the past two days and dreaded telling him she wanted to leave. He and his friends were trying to help her. She got that. It wasn’t like she didn’t appreciate their intentions. But she’d been alone for so long, and they didn’t really know her. She was overdue for another blackout and every second seemed to be a warning. She’d been filled with an unfamiliar dread since waking up this morning. Something wasn’t quite right, but she couldn’t put her finger on it. She’d slept okay… but woke with a lingering impression of fear, of a rage with its sights set on her. It was like a red laser beam settled between her shoulder blades the minute they’d walked out of the hotel’s front doors. Something was watching her. She just didn’t know what. Whatever it was, it didn’t have anything to do with her retrocognition abilities. Dec’s explanation made sense to her; she was relieved that she wasn’t responsible for those people she’d seen. It was a huge weight lifted from her shoulders. Yet now she knew for sure this had nothing to do with the other bad shit going down in her life.
A sharp movement drew her attention to the corner across the street. The storefronts were in heavy shadow, crowds of busy people filling the sidewalks. She recognized the swish of black cloth as the man whipped around and stalked the other direction.
What was he doing here?
Dec followed Rori’s eyes to the priest across the street. The good father spun about before melting into the throng of NYC-ers making their way to wherever they went at 4:00 on a Thursday. Rori had stiffened with fear when she’d seen him. Sighing mentally, he wondered, again, what she was still hiding.
“Friend of yours?” he probed, his arm automatically circling her tiny waist.
Clearly not feeling it, she forced a tight smile for him before answering, “Uh, no. Not really. I know him from St. Anne’s. He works there.”
The priest was long gone, but she stared at the spot where he’d been, her mind a million miles away. Okay. So she thinks I’m stupid.
Facing her, he asked, “How about you tell me the truth this time? Who is the priest, and why do you look like you’re going to puke?”
She flinched and snapped, “You’re pushing again. We had a deal, remember? Spilling my guts isn’t part of it.”
He spoke against her ear so she couldn’t miss his next words. “You’re right, sweetheart, we do have an agreement. I agreed to keep your pretty little butt alive. You agreed to tell me about your visions and dreams. Has it occurred to you that a priest would have the knowledge to summon demons?”
Resisting the urge to duck, he waited for the explosion. It couldn’t be helped. There was no point in sugarcoating it. Facts were facts. The priest would be in a perfect position to summon the demon that was stalking her. He took a good look at her face and rolled his eyes at her stubbornness. All he’d managed to do was piss her off again. Her cheeks erupted into the most flattering shade of pink… uh-oh, they were bordering on magenta now.
“Demons again? Where is your proof? You’ve shown me nothing that changes my mind on that.” Snatching her hand away, she grumbled, “Father Joseph isn’t my favorite person, but that doesn’t have anything to do with demons. He… he and I…” She stopped speaking and stared at her feet, indecision etched across her face.
His chest tightened as he put two and two together. No, no, no. Please don’t be a creepy child molester priest… he didn’t want to have to execute a priest. Probably it wasn’t allowed, him being a man of God and all that. But if he’d touched this woman, if he’d hurt this woman… well, all bets were off. He hated, hated, child molesters. His list was filled with these monsters and one by one, he was hunting them down. It was the least he could do.
Sucking in a deep breath, he shoved his feelings into the back of his head. He’d dealt with his own demons a long time ago. Thanks to Raphael, he was able to move forward. That didn’t mean he hadn’t taken some side trips along the way. Vengeance might not be politically correct today, but the angels had been exacting it since creation. It was time to help Rori with her demons and maybe get a little payback of his own. Toning down his attitude, he asked softly, “Did he hurt you?”
The sounds of traffic and cooing pigeons seemed amplified in the silence that followed.
“It’s not what you think. Just drop it, okay? I don’t want to talk about it.”
Those weren’t the words she’d intended to say, but that’s what came out when she opened her mouth. With a mental head shake, she tried again. “It’s complicated.”
Dec searched her face for clues. She wasn’t lying, but she was leaving out the truth. He could force it from her, but that would be a shitty thing to do. He was trying to gain her trust and messing around inside of her memories would just piss her off. Soooo...
He hugged her. Just a simple, uncomplicated, friendly, non-sexual hug. She stiffened at first contact, but then let herself melt against his chest.
Breathing in the scent of her hair as it floated across his face, he fought the urge to laugh at this whole situation. ‘It’s complicated’, she says. Oh, hell yeah, it was. More than she knew! The woman was beyond stubborn. Until she believed him, she was a target for the demon with a hard-on for her. She had no psychic armor against him and refused to listen to Mica’s instructions on how to shield. This priest was a new twist to the story of Rori. Guess he had some detective work to do after all.
The sun was long gone when Rori came to a decision. With her heart like a brick in her chest, she picked up her bag and let the music lead her to the man who was making her crazy. She listened from the hallway. The haunting music sent a chill down her spine, but she wouldn’t dream of asking him to stop. His music was part of him, a beautiful part that she loved. The ‘L’ word slipped out before she could stop the thought. Sure, she said it. She loved to hear him play. That didn’t mean she loved him. Music. Man. Big difference.
Not wanting to disturb him, she hovered in the doorway. His eyes were half closed as his fingers danced over the strings, foot tapping ever so slightly to the beat of his own drum. Damn. He was something. Caught in the music, he tipped his head forward so those messy bangs fell across his forehead, hiding his gorgeous eyes. In the past month, she’d seen those eyes twinkle with laughter, crease with worry, and darken with want. He’d watched her sometimes with an intensity that made her jumpy, made her bold… made her want things from him that she knew would just complicate things. She knew he was attracted to her, but he’d been hands off until today when he’d kissed on the steps of the Met. She’d followed his lead, keeping her distance, even if she was more drawn to him every minute she was in his presence. Today’s raw passion affected her more than she wanted to admit. She was left yearning for more, yearning for his touch, his heartbeat. That path would surely lead to madness.
“Are you going to stand there all day?” His soft accent sent a shiver of pleasure down her neck even if the words weren’t sexy.
She swallowed an unnatural spear of jealousy of that guitar. The shiny, white instrument got to sit on his lap; it got to feel his fingers plucking at its strings. Man, she wanted Dec to pluck her. She’d trade places with the Gibson in a New York minute.
Her brain jumped in before her lady parts could make any decisions. He wasn’t good for her. She knew it. He didn’t want to be involved that way. He was protecting her while they figured out her problems. She knew that too. But her head and her body were in violent disagreement at the moment. She wanted him in ways that she was ashamed of.
Thank you, Father Joseph.
“I’m going out.”
His smile faltered, but he slid the pick between the strings and started to rise. “Okay. Where are we going?”
She stopped him before he could stand up. “With Raine.” She ignored the sharp glance and the twinge of guilt that almost made her change her mind. “I’ll be spending the night at my apartment.”
The smile vanished altogether.
Sean’s eyes dimmed to a pale blue glow as his molecules settled into place. After flicking his eyes to clear the haze, he studied his surroundings in a 360 as he’d done for millennia. Noting nothing more threatening than a family of skunks eating bugs behind him, he re-sheathed the 10-inch utility knife he carried in the city. He was armed with his usual arsenal---you just didn’t know when shit would go sideways--and ready to hunt. Dec materialized a nanosecond after him. Eyes blazing hot, he was more pissed than he’d seen him in decades. He’d started to screw with him, but there were just some things even he left alone.
“This is the place, huh?” He was underwhelmed. The cemetery was small and not kept up well. They’d come in next to a brick building and pressed themselves against its wall. He let his sight roam, picking up nothing more than a few restless spirits. Nothing demonic had been here in a while.
Moving like a wraith towards the back door, Dec jimmied the lock with a wave of the hand. Using a small flashlight, he went directly to the files in the tiny rear office. There were two rows of ancient metal file cabinets along one wall, a rickety-looking bookcase filled with binders on the other. A broken metal desk completed the furniture. The only upgrade since the 1960s seemed to be the fully ergonomic leather office chair. Sean dropped his ass into it and gave it a spin.
Grinning at Dec, he said, “Looks like the good father’s got hemorrhoids. The pad on this thing’s as thick as a mattress.” He gave it a bounce and added, “We need one of these.”
Dec cocked his head. “Something you want to tell me?”
He barked a laugh and started searching the desk drawers. “Hurry up. I’ve got plans for later.”
Dec kept his attention on the files he was skimming, but asked, “You got a date?”
“Yeah, something like that. You want to come? She’s got hot friends.”
He leafed through the calendar, making mental notes about nothing since there wasn’t shit written on it. The desk drawers were also a bust. Looking around for something else to search, he thought about Declan. The dude really needed to get out, really needed to get laid. For God’s sake, how long had it been? Years? His testosterone was going to poison his dumb ass…
“Come with me tonight. Seriously, man, I’m worried about you. It’ll be fun. Just fun. No strings. No guilt.”
Dec put down the file folder and sighed. Rori was out God only knew where with that Raine guy doing God only knew what. He didn’t like it. Not one bit. But… She didn’t owe him an explanation. She didn’t owe him anything at all. They weren’t a couple. They weren’t even dating. He’d done what he could to keep them from getting close, and she hadn’t put up much of a fight. She had no idea what he was, but she sensed it wasn’t a good idea. She’d stopped giving in to the chemistry between them and kept her distance. That distance bothered him on a lot of levels, but he’d shoved those urges to the back of his brain. He was there to help her, not sleep with her. Today’s kiss was a huge mistake. He still ached from the hormones raging through his blood.
“Why the fuck not?” he finally asked. “Before we go, take a look at this.” He handed Sean a file. “Do you recognize the name?”
Sean exhaled through his nose and slowly laid the folder on the desk. “Tammy Carmichael. Deceased mother of little Gary Carmichael, missing since August, 1969.”
“And the plot thickens.”
Dump hadn’t changed much over the years. True to its name, the crappy dive bar was one rat hair away from going out of business. Buried underneath an ancient brick apartment building, it had the atmosphere of a rat hole. The bullet damage had been mostly patched, though not much effort went into matching the paint colors. The result was an ugly patchwork of beige and not-quite beige. All of the furniture had been replaced since they’d blown the place to hell a few years back. Luckily, the old bartender was gone. Dead, from what Dec had heard. There was no way he’d have let them in. The new one, Julie, was just desperate enough for customers that sh
e waved them inside without bothering to look twice. Clearly she didn’t know about Primani. You couldn’t miss the energy.
The music had changed since their last visit. Whatever happened to RockHard!? He’d given them some cash to replace all of their band equipment after the brawl. Even though he and his brothers hadn’t started the fight, they felt bad about the band getting stuck in the middle. Well, he’d felt bad. Killian and Sean didn’t give a shit about a few smashed speakers and one broken guitar. Tonight the music was just what he needed. Heavy, loud, guaranteed to juice him up--Disturbed and Five Finger Death Punch blasted from the speakers. It was shaping up to be a pretty good night. The beers were cold and going down too smoothly. The two women draped over him were neither heavy nor cold. Sinuous, lean, hot… their ‘dates’ for the night were also excellent pool players and had just won their third game. As he flipped out another Jackson, he couldn’t help grinning. Sean was leaning against the bar, his date, Sara, was whispering in his ear. Supernatural hearing was cool. Dec shamelessly eavesdropped.
She whispered, “Why don’t we go back to my place? Winning makes me horny.” She ran her palm between his legs and purred, “I’m a very generous winner.”
Sean stopped her hand right where it was and growled low in his throat, “I’m a sore loser, so you better be ready. Dec, let’s go.”
He choked on his beer. Busted. Flashing his best sexy smile at Haley, the blonde leaning at his side, he asked, “Are you up for this, darlin’?”
He couldn’t resist stroking the silky skin of her bare shoulder. Her muscles were tight, curvy, and warm. She took care of herself. From the glimpses he’d gotten when she bent over to take a shot, she had beautiful abs as well. It had been a while since he’d seen such a sweet, tight package of woman. He wanted more than anything to peel her tank top off and bite his way up her six-pack. He just hoped she was game.
“Oh, I don’t know, Irish. Let me think… stay here and play pool or spread you naked on my sheets?” She tapped at her chin in thought. “Hmm, are you as good as you look?”
Broken Souls (Primani Book 4) Page 14