by D. L. O'Neal
The quiet admission stopped Kalesia cold. She sat frozen unable to move, unable to look away. Gabriel met her eyes squarely, the grey gaze shuttered. Kalesia was shockingly aware of having stumbled onto something dark and forbidden. Something intrinsically dangerous. Something that was better left alone.
Her mouth went dry.
All at once the lateness of the hour, the intimacy of the warm glow of the single lamp, spelled danger of a different sort. The swirling hunger in the crystalline eyes caught her by surprise.
Gabriel wanted her.
Tension, shimmering all evening on the outer edge of consciousness, erupted into sensual awareness.
Still holding her gaze, he got up from his chair. He didn't stop until he was right in front of her. Placing his hands on the arms of her chair, he leaned down. This was totally different from earlier, when he was intimidating her into cooperating, but Kalesia felt threatened in a way that had nothing to do with her safety.
She licked her lips.
His gazed flickered to her mouth, and settled there. He slowly lowered his head, giving her plenty of time to move, to say no.
She couldn't.
She'd been wanting this from almost the first moment she'd met him, she realized dimly. Wanted to touch his hair, run her fingers through it...she wanted to stroke him and see if she could make him purr.
His lips touched hers. The tip of his tongue slid along her bottom lip. Kalesia's breath caught. He captured the small sound, drinking it in.
She lifted her hands. His hair was just as soft as she'd thought it would be. She buried her fingers in it and stroked his scalp, shaping the firm bones of his head. He arched his head back and a deep rumbled escaped from the back of his throat.
Kalesia smiled. He sounded just like Hannibal.
His lips touched the side of her neck. A shiver chased all the way down her spine. She wound her arms around his neck with a small sigh. Not quite sure how it happened, Kalesia found herself on his lap. Not that it mattered, she thought hazily, not when his mouth was doing such wonderful things.
She ran her hands over his chest, feeling his muscles bunch and swell under the featherlight caress. He was so hot, she marveled. And hard. He shuddered as she found a small, masculine nipple beneath the cotton shirt, and brushed the pad of her thumb over it. It pebbled instantly. His hands tightened on her back and she felt the edge of his teeth on the vulnerable nape of her neck. "Oh." She searched blindly for his mouth. Beneath her thigh, she felt the hard ridge of his arousal.
My God, what was she doing? She didn't even know the man and she was making out like a teenager in the backseat of a car. Kalesia put her hands on his shoulders and pushed.
She couldn't meet his eyes. Staring at his throat, she sought words to explain. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have allowed this to go so far."
"I see." His hands slid from her back to rest on the chair. If not for the rapid pulse in the hollow of his throat, Kalesia would have thought him unaffected.
She slipped from his lap, straightening her shirt. She forced herself to meet his eyes. The opaque silver mirror was back, hiding his thoughts from her. Kalesia wished it weren't. "Look, I'd better go. It's getting late." At the base of the stairs, she hesitated. "I really am sorry."
Gabriel watched Kalesia leave. A minute later, he heard the door to her room close. Slowly, he flattened the palm of his right hand, stiffened the fingers, and then closed it. First the index, lastly the thumb, until he had a fist.
Getting to his feet, he made his nightly round, the habit too deeply ingrained to ignore. After carefully checking the doors and windows, he set the alarm. Only when satisfied all was secured, did he shut off the lights.
With an ease Kalesia would have found mystifying, Gabriel became one more shadow in a room full of shadows. It was, he mused, a useful ability. Yet, now, he found it vaguely disquieting.
Pausing momentarily at the bottom of the stairs, one hand resting on the smooth wood, he gazed at the ceiling.
What would it be like to live in the light?
Chapter 4
KALESIA EYED Gabriel warily as she entered the kitchen and sat at the table. Last night had been close. Too close. If he had chosen to exert the full force of his personality, she might not have been able to resist. Only too late had she realized that this attraction had been hovering on the fringes ever since she had met grey eyes filled with ghosts--and loneliness. A loneliness that called to a similar need deep inside her. So she'd fled.
Like a child unwilling to face the consequences of her actions, she thought in disgust, toying with the scrambled eggs on her plate. A basket of gently steaming biscuits were placed in front of her. Startled, Kalesia glanced up.
"We're going to go over your visions this morning, then tonight I'll start searching your files for any possible connection. This time I want every single detail you can remember. There has to be a reason for someone to want you dead, a tie between you and the killer. Your business and past visions are the obvious places to start."
Kalesia couldn't tell what he was thinking. Was he remembering last night? She took a biscuit and buttered it, avoiding his gaze. "I cannot allow you to go through my client records." Inside, she tensed, waiting for his condemnation.
"If you weren't prepared to trust me, you shouldn't have come to me for help."
Guilt ate at Kalesia. He was right. She had come to him, but she couldn't ignore her obligation to her clients. "It isn't a matter of not trusting you," she began carefully.
"Yes, it is," he said, interrupting her. "It is exactly a matter of trust."
"But I don't know you." She looked up, taken aback at the intensity in his eyes. "How can I trust you with my files?"
"You are trusting me with your life," he pointed out with inexorable logic.
"That's different," she defended, all too aware of the flaw in her argument. "Major Harley said you could help."
Gabriel didn't say anything, just looked at her.
"Well, he's a sheriff's officer! He wouldn't have sent me here if he had doubts about your ability."
He lifted a brow.
Outmaneuvered, Kalesia grumbled, "All right, you can see them, but I want to be there when you go through the files."
He pulled a yellow legal pad closer. "You said this is your first precognitive vision?"
Her appetite abruptly gone, Kalesia dropped the half-eaten biscuit and pushed her plate away. "Yes." She folded her arms on the table. "Never before has that happened."
Gabriel made a note on his pad. "Any idea why?"
Kalesia shook her head, at a loss to explain. Always she got a vision of the murder after the fact. The visions were disturbing enough, but if her ability was growing, was beginning to latch onto the violence before the event occurred, Kalesia truly thought she might go insane.
"None. I can't even begin to explain why I have these visions."
"According to what you told me last night, there have been seven men, six women, and two children. We'll start with the children. Tell me about those visions."
Kalesia winced. After the visions of the children's violent deaths, she'd been physically ill for several days. The unfairness of their deaths, the fact that a child's life could be quenched without a second thought, haunted her. She rubbed sweaty palms on the thighs of her jeans, wishing she could rub the guilt away as easily. Although she knew the children were already beyond help, she couldn't rid herself of the notion she had not done enough. Kalesia drew a deep, bracing breath, and began.
By late afternoon, she was ready to drop. After moving to the living room, Gabriel made her go over each vision, dug for details that she'd thought impossible to remember after so many years. By the time evening was throwing long shadows on the immaculate lawn, Kalesia was certain Gabriel Steele was the most insensitive, unfeeling man she'd ever had the misfortune to meet.
"Did you keep track of the outcome of the murders?"
A serrated edge of anguish knifed through her. "Yes, I did," s
he managed. "All but three were solved."
Gabriel sat forward, suddenly alert. "Which three?"
Something in his voice made her sit up straighter. "The little boy, the woman I saw in a limestone quarry and the man two years ago. Why? Do you really think one of them might have a bearing on the vision of my death?" She was unable to prevent a quiver of hope.
Gabriel hesitated before nodding. "It's a possibility. At this stage of the game anything is possible. There is a very real chance it will turn out to be a blind alley," he warned. "I'll give Tom a call and see what he can find out about your unsolved visions. I need to call anyway, to see if he found out anything about the break in."
"When did you call Major Harley?" Kalesia asked, surprised.
"Last night, while you were settling in. I didn't see much point in him getting an officer over there. I doubt the intruder was sloppy enough to leave prints. Besides, there was very little evidence to point to unlawful entry." He shrugged.
Kalesia had no trouble getting his meaning. "You mean you doubt the cops would believe anything had occurred." She couldn't help the bitterness in her words.
"As I said, the perp left very little evidence. Don't take it so personally."
"What do you mean, don't take it personally? It's not your life being threatened!"
"Neither is yours. Yet." He stood, stretched, then walked toward the doorway.
"Thank you for the word of encouragement, Mr. Steele. I feel much better," she said tartly.
Gabriel grinned over his shoulder. "You're welcome."
Struck by the sight of his smile, Kalesia forgot to follow right away.
"I HAVE another favor to ask." Gabriel took a sip of coffee that nearly scalded his mouth. He set the mug down on the kitchen counter. He really needed to cut back on the stuff.
"Before this is through, you're gonna owe me big time, Gabe. I don't usually go around making inquiries for a crime that hasn't even been officially reported."
"Quit complaining. It's your own fault." Gabriel felt a flash of amusement as the other man's sigh came through loud and clear on the phone.
"Yeah, so you've already told me. Sending her your way seemed like such a good idea at the time. But you're the one that needs a little chaos in your life, not me."
"Tough." Gabriel had no sympathy. "Turn up anything on the break in?"
Harley became all business. "Not even her next door neighbor, Mrs. Carstairs, saw anything. And I can guarantee that old lady doesn't miss the smallest detail. Sharp. Are you sure it happened? That Ms. Brannigan didn't imagine it?"
"She says it happened, and I believe her. That's why I brought her back with me. Even if her vision was nothing more than a dream, she's safer here than at her house. At least until I can discover what the guy was after."
"So what's the favor you need?"
"I need you to see what you can dig up on three homicides." There was a long silence at the other end of the phone.
"More visions?" Harley sounded resigned.
"More visions," Gabriel tried another sip of coffee. "I really doubt they're connected to the vision of Kalesia's death, but I don't want to take any chances." Gabriel rattled off all the details he had, which, when you came down to it, didn't amount to much.
"That all you got?"
Gabriel heard the swinging door to the kitchen open. Kalesia came to a stop beside him and tapped him on the shoulder. "That's it. I'll let you know if I find out more." She punched him again, harder this time. Gabriel turned his head and glared.
"Tell him they should have reports on their murders," she hissed.
He ignored her. "Okay, I appreciate it, Tom." Gabriel hung up.
"Well? What did he have to say? And why didn't you tell him that an officer took a report each time?"
He shrugged. "Tom said he'll look into the matter. And I did tell him."
"He had to say more than that."
"He said no one went near your house last night or today," he told her, knowing his short answers were frustrating her.
"And?" Kalesia planted her fists on her hips. Gabriel hid a smile. In the bright yellow shirt and matching jeans, she looked like an infuriated butterfly. Gabriel discovered an unsuspected partiality toward butterflies. She began tapping her toe on the white tile of the floor.
"He said he'd get back to me when he had something."
"Listen here, Gabriel Steele, I have a right to..." She trailed off as a faint smile tugged at the corner of his mouth.
"Who would have thought you had a sense of humor," she grumbled.
Certainly not him, Gabriel thought as he felt a small shaft of sunlight enter his soul. He bathed in the sensation as he stared down into her eyes. The woman who had entered his life and turned it upside down was a kaleidoscope: vivid, ever changing, vibrant with passion and life. He heard the small catch as Kalesia caught her breath. His humor stilled. Gabriel lowered his head, closing the small distance between them.
He traced the outline of her lips, just barely touching them with the tip of his tongue. She rose on tiptoe, her arms going around his neck, pulling his head down. Her mouth opened, a silent command to deepen the light caress.
Gabriel obeyed. Her low, incoherent murmur when he slipped inside to taste her thoroughly shot straight through him. The sound was as intoxicating as any drug. He groaned.
Time and again, he drank from her lips. The more he had, the more he craved. Bit by bit, his control started eroding. Kalesia's eyes were heavy-lidded and languid, her lips rosy and damp by the time he lifted his head.
"If that's an apology for teasing me, I accept," she said, breathless.
Gabriel nudged her head to one side, dropping a tiny kiss under her jaw. "I never apologize," he stated against the warm silk of her skin. Her hair was wound in a thick braid. The style exposed the delicate nape of her neck. Unable to resist, Gabriel traced an intricate pattern, smiling when she shivered.
"So," she murmured, leaning her head back, her green eyes deep and mysterious, "you never apologize, do you?" She slid her fingers through his hair. The small, surprisingly sensual gesture sent a chill chasing across his skin.
"Never." Gabriel was aware of her gentle amusement, but found he didn't mind. She was laughing with him. The experience was unique and somehow intimate.
"So arrogant," she breathed, brushing her lips across his.
"We're going to have to talk about your clients." She stiffened in his arms. Gabriel resisted the urge to curse. No one could ever accuse him of great timing. She pulled away. With some reluctance, he let her go.
"I'll get the files." Kalesia hurried from the kitchen and up the stairs.
Gabriel watched her go, wishing he knew what she was thinking. He rubbed his chest, hoping to soothe the odd ache there.
"HERE." KALESIA dropped the large box onto the white wooden table the minute she returned. She sat and stared at her laced fingers.
"Kalesia, I know how hard it was--"
She held up a hand. "Don't. You haven't the faintest clue what those files represent to me." She twisted her lips. "I understand why you feel you must go through them and appreciate your efforts. Really. But I still resent the necessity." She made a slashing motion with her hand. "Just leave it alone. You'd never understand. I'm not even sure I do."
"Your clients rely on you. When you say you'll deliver, they don't doubt it for a minute. They trust you whereas no one else has."
Shock jolted Kalesia at the quiet observation. For a moment, she couldn't form a cohesive thought.
"I'm not insisting on looking at the files because I don't trust your word that your clients are not involved, but as a matter of being thorough, of checking all the angles."
When Gabriel held out his hand, she passed him the first folder, dazed. Even her parents didn't understand her insistence on being taken on her word alone.
But Gabriel did.
A man with shadows and ghosts haunting his eyes, he understood what she had never quite put into words.
<
br /> PAIN.
Screams.
Excitement.
Blood dripped onto the floor, rippling the surface of the dark, ever-spreading pool.
Light glittered and flashed on the thin blade as it was slowly lowered.
Pain. Sudden, shocking, consuming.
Kalesia moaned, and stirred in her sleep.
Nylon circled his wrists, laced up his forearms, pulled his arms tightly behind his back.
Excruciating pain lanced his chest at the intolerable tension on his shoulders. Wave after wave washed over him.
He screamed.
Over and over, his ragged voice bounced amongst the trees, startling a Florida panther, causing a mule deer to twitch its ears in fright before bounding deeper into the forest.
He was on his knees.
Moonlight filtered down through the pine. The clean, crisp resin fragrance hung heavy in the moist, night air. Inhaling deeply, his starved lungs flooded with the dark peaty scent of a bog.
An ant crawled up his thigh. Sweat trickled down his breastbone.
Hot.
Humid.
Fear.
It permeated the night, hung motionlessly on the still air, soaked him as he squinted up at his captor.
Dirt filled his mouth as he was forced, face down, in the loose soil.
Beneath his cheek, he felt the tiny tickle of another ant, then a sudden sharp sting.
Shrouded by shadows, a man knelt and slowly slid his forefinger over the bound man's cheek. First the left, then the right.
The small caliber bullet exploded in his brain.
The man smiled, and picked up a shovel.
Kalesia gasped for air, unable to breathe for the dirt filling her mouth. Scrambling to her knees, arms wrapped tightly around her stomach, she forced herself to take slow, controlled breaths. Her heart was pounding so hard, it was making her sick to her stomach. She reached up and touched her temple, her hand shaking. The phantom pain nearly blinded her.
Dear God, not another one.
The dark closed in on her. It seemed to Kalesia that she could smell the man's terror and fear in the room with her. All of a sudden she had to get out. Out of bed. Out of the room.