Night Demons

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Night Demons Page 3

by D. L. O'Neal


  She stood and walked around the desk, to the back. Kalesia stared at the pile of manilla folders for a long moment, her mind blank. It couldn't be. She touched the folders with the tips of her fingers in disbelief. Such a small thing. A tiny detail that under normal circumstances a person wouldn't notice.

  A slow anger began to simmer. Someone had invaded her home, rummaged through her files, had actually had the nerve to poke into her business.

  Dammit, they had no right. It had taken her years to build her business, scraping each dollar until she had a viable clientele. She had earned her reputation for dependability and discretion the hard way. Businesses trusted her. Kalesia felt violated and outraged...and a growing terror.

  They could have been waiting for her to walk in the door.

  Still looking at the files, she reached for the business card tucked under her desk calendar, and dialed the phone. The phone on the other end was ringing before Kalesia realized what she had done.

  She had dialed Gabriel Steele.

  "Hello?" The voice was as dark and compelling as she remembered.

  "Mr. Steele?" She wasn't sure he heard her, so she repeated his name.

  There was a long pause. "Ms. Brannigan? Kalesia? What is it? What's wrong?"

  She gripped the phone harder. "I--I'm so sorry for bothering you, but I don't know who else to call."

  "Don't worry about it." His voice was brisk. "Tell me what's wrong."

  "Someone broke into my home."

  "Are you hurt? Have you called the police?"

  "No. No, I'm not hurt. They'd left by the time I returned home." She looked around vaguely. Police. She hadn't thought to call the police. "I haven't called the police. I'll do that now."

  "Wait. Don't hang up!" There was a pause, and Kalesia heard an audible intake of breath. "Are you positive no one is in the house?"

  "Yes. I checked." She clutched the card Harley had given her as if it were a talisman.

  "Listen to me. I need directions to your house."

  His voice rang distantly in her ear. Kalesia forced herself to pay attention. "I'm listening." She gave him directions.

  "Okay. Now stay put. I'm coming right over."

  Chapter 3

  GABRIEL WAS barely inside the door before Kalesia threw herself into his arms. He closed them around her without thought, pressing her against him as relief poured through his body.

  "I was so scared," she whispered.

  So was I, Gabriel thought, grimly displeased with the realization. The woman had refused to quit haunting his memory. And the harder he had shoved her uncooperative image away, the more she had crept in, taking up residence in his thoughts like an unwanted guest; the elegant line of her throat, the hint of feminine arrogance in her gently rounded chin, the small charm circling her ankle that had winked mockingly at him as the door closed behind her.

  Resting his chin on the silky top of her head, Gabriel breathed in her light, evocative scent before gently pushing her away. "I need to check the house," he explained.

  A frown slowly grew as he made a short, thorough search. Gabriel turned to Kalesia. "Tell me exactly what happened."

  She drew a deep breath, hugging her arms around her midsection. "I did some grocery shopping after going to the mall. When I came home, I thought it odd that my cats--I have two--didn't meet me at the door. I didn't give it too much thought until all the groceries were put away and I still hadn't seen them. I searched the house and found them under my desk," she whispered starkly. "I always keep that door closed."

  "Was there anything else to indicate an intrusion?"

  "Someone has moved my files."

  "Are you sure?" he glanced around at the comfortable clutter of her home and lifted one brow.

  "My home may not be pin neat," she informed him, her tone defensive, "but where my work is concerned, I'm very particular. I always keep the files I'm currently working on to the right of my keyboard. It's a habit, something I do without thought."

  Gabriel could concede to the force of habit. "Okay, I'll buy that. That leaves several questions, however. What would someone want with your files? And, is tonight's break-in connected in any way to your vision?"

  "I don't know." She rubbed her arms. Nerves, he concluded. "I analyze markets for businesses. Most of my clients are in the central part of the state, but just recently a few firms from North and South Florida--even a couple from Georgia--have contracted for my services. It's taken me three years to build my clientele to the point where I feel secure. Three years, and not once in that time has something like this ever occurred."

  "I can't believe this is happening." She drummed her fingers on her arms. "If word leaks out that someone was rifling through my files, it's bound to affect relations with my clients."

  "You'll recover."

  "You don't understand." She walked the length of the room. "They have to have absolute faith in my services. Business decisions are based on the accuracy of the information I give them. Whether it is my fault or not, doubt is bound to be planted. It isn't fair that someone can just break in and casually destroy years of hard work!"

  Gabriel watched her restless pacing. She was wound as tight as a tripwire. Gabriel modulated his voice, mentally balanced for an explosion. "What about corporate spying?"

  Kalesia swung around, startled. "I hadn't thought about that." She gnawed on the tip of one slender finger while she considered the possibility. "Offhand, I have to say I don't think so. I just can't see a connection between this and any of the firms I've consulted for lately."

  "Do you mind?" Gabriel tilted his head in the direction of the office.

  "Be my guest."

  He spared a glance at the cats still under her desk, then headed for the slender pile of folders. He quickly flipped through them. Next he went to her filing cabinet, taking careful note of the three misfiled.

  "Well?"

  "It's very little to go on."

  "I thought you said you believed me?" She stared at the floor before squaring her shoulders. "I guess I can't blame you for changing your mind. It must seem that I'm overreacting."

  "I do." Whoever had tossed Kalesia's house had been good, but not perfect. He left behind signs of his passage.

  All of Gabriel's instincts screamed to life. Already, he could feel his muscles knotting up.

  Dammit, he was out of this line of work. Had been for damn near a year. He didn't want to feel the rush of adrenaline that danger brought. He was a businessman now, owned a nursery for crying out loud. And that's exactly the way he wanted it to stay.

  Gabriel shut the drawer with a quick gesture that reflected his mood. "Pack whatever you need and be ready to leave in ten minutes." He began disconnecting the computer monitor.

  "Leave?" she repeated.

  Gabriel spared her a look that asked if she were simple. "You're staying with me."

  "But...you refused to help me," Kalesia reminded him. If he hadn't been so irritated at the necessity of inviting her into his home, her stunned reaction might have amused him.

  "I've changed my mind."

  "I just can't leave," she objected weakly. "It's my home, and I have a business to run."

  Gabriel closed the space separating them with a slow, deliberate stride. It went against his instincts to take this woman into his home. She was dangerous to his peace of mind.

  Against his will, Gabriel felt himself responding to the confusion in her eyes, to the subtle sensual pull that reached and beckoned him to her warmth. Furious at Kalesia for needing his help and at himself for being unable to refuse, he deliberately let his anger spill over knowing that as soft and vulnerable as Kalesia was, she'd wilt like an English rose beneath a fierce midday sun.

  Taking her chin in his hand, Gabriel leaned closer. "I suggest you pack what you will need because, come hell or high water, in ten minutes you are leaving this house if I have to carry you out with just the clothes on your back." He lifted her chin a fraction higher. "Bring all your client records. I
'll want to study them more thoroughly later." He noted with satisfaction the wariness that darkened her eyes.

  She licked her lips and he was sure she would now give into his demands without further argument.

  "My records are confidential and I prefer not to remove them from my home."

  Furious, he tightened his fingers, stopping just short of the point of pain. "Look, I can't protect you here. You're too open and too far away from me. If I can't protect you, then it's a sure bet I can't protect your precious files, either. And the authorities cannot and will not offer their protection at this point in the game. You came to me for help and, like it or not, you are now getting it. That makes everything in your life my business and that includes your clients."

  Her chin shot up. "How do I know I'll be any safer at your home?"

  Gabriel grabbed for his patience which was hanging by the slenderest thread. "My house is secure. I give you my guarantee," he gritted from between locked teeth. The woman had the knack for sending him ballistic quicker than anyone he had ever met.

  To his intense irritation, she stopped and considered his words. At last she conceded, "Okay, I'll bring my files, but only so I can work. My customers value confidentiality."

  For a moment, Gabriel's vision was blurred by a curtain of red. The woman had the nerve to saunter into his life, ask for his help, and then question his decisions. He should leave. If he had any sense that is exactly what he would do. Let her go to Harley. But even as the thought crossed his mind, Gabriel knew he wouldn't walk out. He had to see the matter through. He refused to delve any deeper into his reasons than that.

  "The subject is not closed," he warned. She didn't argue, just walked out of the office at a sedate pace.

  Gabriel watched her leave, an extra swing to her hips. Damn. The woman obviously figured she had won a major battle. He shook his head in disbelief. It had taken guts to stand up to him. Flake or not, Kalesia Brannigan had gumption.

  He shrugged, concentrating on the matter at hand. He'd worry about bringing her into line later. Ignoring the furious hiss from under the desk, Gabriel began breaking down the office.

  KALESIA FOLLOWED Gabriel into his living room. He had a pad of paper in one hand. She sighed inwardly. It was going to be a long night. She sank down in a wing back chair.

  "I want everything you can remember, no matter how insignificant it seems. I'll decide if it's important. What we're going to do is go over every detail and see if a pattern emerges." He was all business.

  "What do you want first?"

  "Tell me about your dream."

  "Vision. They're not dreams, dreams I could handle." An annoying hint of something just out of reach, of something dark and deadly, something evil, teased her mind. Kalesia shook off the irritating feeling. She must be more tired than she thought.

  Drawing her knees up to her chest, Kalesia began. "There was a body lying near a pond. I didn't want to look at the face."

  "Why?"

  "I never do." She shivered. "It's hard to explain. Seeing the face makes the body into a person. A person that lived and breathed. That loved and maybe was loved."

  "Go on," he instructed. She threw a questioning glance in his direction at the odd note in his voice. When he didn't say anything else, she shrugged and continued.

  "Her blouse had a hole in it. There was an exit wound in the back." Kalesia closed her eyes, remembering. "Her skirt was up above her thighs."

  "Was she sexually assaulted?" Kalesia was thankful that Gabriel kept the reference to the third person. She didn't think she could bear to acknowledge herself as the woman she saw in the vision, dead from an act of violence.

  "No." She chewed on her bottom lip. "I didn't get that impression. But she did struggle. Maybe that's why her skirt was rucked up like it was." Kalesia turned her gaze inward. "I started to feel uneasy, but in a different way than I usually feel. I didn't want to look at the body anymore, so I studied the surroundings."

  "Tracks milled around the edge of the pond, but I couldn't make out if they were human. The scrub oaks were bare and so were the hyacinths. Everything was shaded like a monochromatic painting. It was when I noticed a stand of live oak and a lightning-blasted pine that I realized I knew the area. That's when I looked at the woman's face. I saw my own." Just saying it aloud had the power to make her nauseous. She swallowed hard and concentrated on Gabriel's next question.

  "What color were the blouse and skirt?"

  "Amber and black. I recognized the outfit. It's one of my favorites." Kalesia leaned her head back against the cushion, drained emotionally and physically from both her earlier fright and, now, having to relive her vision.

  "You said there was an exit wound. What did it look like?"

  "About the size of a silver dollar and ragged, I think. I'm not sure. I didn't actually see it," she told him, picking her words with undue care.

  "If you didn't see the exit wound, how do you know the bullet wasn't still inside?" Like a hunter closing in on prey, he probed for weaknesses.

  Kalesia struggled for words that would make sense. "It's not like watching television or a movie where every detail is spelled out. It's more a matter of knowing. Damn, how can I make you understand?" Kalesia groaned at the futility of explaining what even she didn't understand. Picking up a throw pillow, she hugged it to her chest.

  "Sometimes the images I see are very clear and stark. Other times they come at me in a collage of information and intuitive knowledge that defy order and logic. I know but I don't understand how I know. The knowledge of a gaping hole in her back was just there, in my mind."

  "Then why do you have such precise details of her clothing and the surroundings?"

  "Because I saw those details!" She threw her hands up in the air. "I knew you wouldn't understand." Kalesia took a deep breath to regain control before she continued. Somehow she had to make Gabriel willing to accept the unacceptable. It was going to be hard. Gabriel Steele was obviously a man who preferred to operate with facts, not with dreams come to life. She made another effort to explain. "Some details in my visions rely on instinctive knowledge, not physical."

  "I'll accept that for a moment." Kalesia sighed, knowing without the slightest doubt he would return to the subject later. "What was the weather like?"

  The question startled her. It seemed rather odd to her, but she answered without hesitation. "It was foggy. A heavy dew coated the dead grass. Grey. Everything was grey--the sky, the water, the trees. Moisture beaded on her face." Kalesia shuddered, burying her face in her hands momentarily. "Even her skin was grey."

  "Do you remember seeing a car?"

  "What?" Kalesia lifted her head. She had to stop and think. "No, I don't think so. The pond is too far from the track to see a vehicle, though."

  "Was the body placed at the site?" he prodded.

  "No," she said after a long moment, not sure where he was going with this line of questioning. "The woman, I, was killed there."

  "Is this something else you just `know'?" He slid the question in with skillful precision.

  Her mind went blank, then what he said registered. "Why do you insist on baiting me?" she demanded, her chest tight. "You're supposed to be helping me. I'm not up to it tonight," Kalesia warned him, feeling ready to come apart at any second.

  Gabriel surged to his feet. Crossing the space separating them in one stride, he planted both hands on the arms of her chair. Pushing his face into hers, he growled, "Lady, you'd better be `up to it', because this is kindergarten compared to how it's going to get. You came to me for help and protection because you believe someone is going to kill you. I'm the one with the skill and ability to keep you alive. If you don't like my methods, there's the door. If you want my help then, by damn, you'll do it my way. Understand?"

  Kalesia froze in her chair, her gaze locked on the man in front of her. The deadly, dangerous gleam in the grey eyes stilled the protest unformed in her throat. An aura of barely suppressed violence thrummed in his still form.
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  Take it or leave it. Accept his methods and cooperate, or walk out the door. This was no alley cat open to coaxing, but a full-fledged jungle cat on the prowl.

  "I know because I saw scuffle marks in the mud." At her words she saw him relax subtly. An inner tension inside Kalesia eased in response. "And because I sensed violence at the scene. Part of it is physical and part is like being certain someone is watching you without turning around."

  Both of them knew that by her compliance she had ceded control to Gabriel. Kalesia was surprised to find that didn't bother her as much as it should. She didn't have time to ponder that revelation, though, because Gabriel settled back into his chair and began probing about her previous visions.

  THREE HOURS later Kalesia's temper was fraying.

  "Was there any similarity between that murder and this one?"

  Kalesia drummed her fingers on the arms of the chair. "I told you, Gabriel, that happened years ago. Nothing ever came of it. No one believed me when I reported that woman's murder five years ago. Just as no one believed me when I reported a child's murder two years before that one. I could go on. That's why I'm hesitant to report my visions anymore."

  Kalesia's throat ached with the effort not to scream in frustration. She itched to toss something, preferably something heavy, at his hard head. The man refused to let go. She couldn't make him understand that this was how it always was. She'd see a murder and then would have to live with the knowledge that no one believed her. That maybe, just maybe, she could have helped to hold someone accountable if only people were willing to listen--and believe.

  "Tell me again," he ordered, ignoring her outburst.

  "Tell me again. Tell me again," she mimicked. "I feel like a suspect in a police interrogation. What were you? A cop or something?" she threw at him, not really expecting a reply. She was sick and tired having to defend what she saw. Once, just once, why couldn't someone believe her unconditionally?

  "Or something," Gabriel agreed in neutral tone.

 

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