by D. L. O'Neal
Outside of the guestroom, Kalesia hesitated. She really didn't want to be alone, she thought, chewing her bottom lip. She stared at his closed door. Then again, after that kiss this afternoon, maybe it would be better if she just went downstairs and fixed herself something hot to drink.
Would Gabriel believe her anyway? He had reservations. That was obvious despite his willingness to help. Could she bear it if she saw that look of disbelief in his eyes?
Kalesia shook her head and pulled her robe tighter. No, she couldn't, not with Gabriel. Once before a man had nearly destroyed her with his disbelief. Instinct warned her it would be infinitely worse if Gabriel was to now deny her ability.
She didn't dare chance it.
Her mind made up, she crept downstairs, taking care to make as little noise as possible.
Unfamiliar with his kitchen, she had to search for the ingredients for hot chocolate. Kalesia winced at the overloud sound of the cabinet door closing. At this rate, she'd wake him.
A cup of cocoa in her hand, Kalesia turned from the counter and nearly dropped the mug of steaming liquid. Gabriel stood in the darkened doorway, his shirt half-buttoned, one shoulder propped on the doorjamb.
"Couldn't sleep?"
His voice was low and raspy from sleep. Kalesia wished he wouldn't sound so concerned. She wished even more that she didn't remember the hot and intense taste of him earlier, when he'd kissed her.
She cleared her throat and tried for a nonchalant tone. "Just restless. I thought something hot might cal--relax me." Kalesia groaned inwardly. So much for sounding casual, the tremor in her voice revealed just how tight her emotions were wound. More than anything, she wanted to walk into Gabriel's arms and have them close about her. She wanted to forget what she had seen.
His eyes went to her hands. Kalesia became aware she was holding the mug as if it were a lifeline. She forced her fingers to relax. He straightened away from the doorway.
"Got enough of that cocoa for two?" He went to the cupboard and took down a cup without waiting for her answer. He poured the last of the hot drink and set the pan in the sink. "Since we're both awake, we might as well keep each other company," he said, snapping off the light and leading the way into the living room.
He didn't bother turning the light on and Kalesia was thankful. Gabriel was too observant and she felt too fragile to keep up the pretense that there was nothing was wrong. Curled up on the sofa, she'd just taken a fortifying sip when he spoke.
"Why do you need to calm down?"
Kalesia choked on the mouthful of hot chocolate. "W-- what?" she sputtered.
"I asked why you needed to calm down." He sat there in the shadows, staring at her over the rim of the cup, with the infinite patience of a hunter.
Kalesia thought about lying and then decided he would see through the attempt. "I had another vision," she stated baldly.
"About your murder?" he asked in a noncommittal tone.
"No." Her teeth chattered against the side of the mug as she took another sip. Kalesia hastily lowered it. "No," she repeated, "It wasn't my death I saw."
"Tell me," he ordered.
Kalesia shot a glance in his direction, straining to make out his features. "Why?"
"I need to know."
"Why?" she again asked.
"Because to help you, I have to understand what it is you see."
"You believe me, then? When I say I have visions of other people's murder? I was under the impression you had doubts."
"I don't disbelieve you," Gabriel qualified.
Her mouth twisted. Leave it to the man to be brutally honest. At least he was willing to listen. Kalesia set the cooling liquid aside.
"It was so strange," she began slowly. "I could almost swear my vision was about two different incidences. I don't see how that can be, though."
"What do you mean?"
"Well, at first I had the impression of a man tied on a table. He was being tortured. There was blood, lots of it. On the man, on the table, on the floor. I clearly saw a knife." She frowned, lost in thought. "No, that's not right. I saw a blade, but I don't think it was a knife. Oh, I don't know. It's so hard to explain. The images were smudged, seen from a distance, like a grainy tintype which has sat neglected in a closet for years."
Gabriel set the mug down on the small table beside his chair with great care. "That's different from what you normally see?"
"Oh, yes. While what I see often makes little sense, the images are crystal clear. It's like looking at photographs taken out of time. Sometimes they're in motion, sometimes they're stills. But they are always very crisp." She often wished they weren't so clear.
"You said it seemed like there were two different visions?" he asked, leaning forward, propping his elbows on his spread knees and clasping his hands between them.
A fine tremor sliced through her. "Yes." She moistened her lips. "I tried to wake up when I realized what was happening. I almost succeeded," she whispered. Kalesia shook herself abruptly and continued. "The second time I could swear I was looking at a different man. Though," she admitted, "I didn't actually see the first man's--the one on the table--face."
She pleated her brow. "It's weird. The first time I got the definite impression of a room but the second, it was of a forest. I don't know. Maybe the room was in a nearby cabin."
"But you don't think so."
"No, I don't think so."
"Tell me what you remember of the second man."
"Pain. He was in so much pain. His hands were tied behind his back. So tight," she swallowed the lump in her throat, "I could feel the muscles in his chest ripping from the tension of his bonds. He was kneeling in the dirt. The man holding the gun made him put his face on the ground. Then he shot him." She stopped, the sheer horror of the act robbing her of voice.
"It's okay, Kalesia. You're here, with me. I won't let anyone hurt you."
She became aware of the soothing cadence of Gabriel's voice murmuring in her ear, of his arms wrapped around her as if he'd never let her go. His hand stroked over her hair, his touch soft as the brush of a dragonfly's wing. She felt safer than she had since a child, since before the visions began. Kalesia closed her eyes and absorbed the heat and strength of his body. At last she moved, tilting her head back so she could look into his eyes.
"What are we going to do?"
"We're going to see Harley first thing in the morning." His palm shaped the back of her head, and exerted just enough pressure to snuggle her face back in the hollow of his throat.
"He won't believe me," she told him flatly.
"He will this time."
"How can you be so sure?" She tried to move so she could see his face. Gabriel tightened his hold. Kalesia quit fighting and relaxed.
"I can be very persuasive when I want to be."
That was an understatement, she thought, with a spurt of weak humor.
"Gabriel?"
"Hmm?"
"I wish they were just dreams. Nightmares. It would be so much easier. Dreams I could handle."
Chapter 5
SOMETHING tightened inside Gabriel at the fervent wish. Keep your mouth shut, he told himself. Never let another person see inside you. Remember the code that kept you alive? The smart move would be to keep quiet.
"Don't bet on it," he stated harshly, unable to stop himself. "Dreams gnaw at a man." Stop before you say something that can't be taken back. Before you make her too curious, have her asking questions you are unwilling to answer. "They probe for fine fault lines in the nether regions of the mind so they can slip in faces, places, and events better forgotten."
Despair filled him. Why now? Why lose control now? Was it because he knew intimately the fine thread sanity hung by in dreams that were more than dreams? Knew that the tapestry of the past walked the night to haunt the present and make a mockery of the future?
A fine sheen of sweat popped out on his brow. His hand tangled in her hair until the knuckles shone white.
Able to handle dre
ams? A bitter smile shaped his mouth.
He was an expert on dreams. Dreams that slipped into a man's mind the way a blade slid into flesh...easily and without resistance. A man wouldn't even know he was bleeding until he looked down and saw the blood pooling at his feet.
Maybe he'd be doing her a service if he disabused her of the notion that dreams were better than visions.
"Dreams aren't easier to handle. Sometimes, they're infinitely harder. They play the past over and over, so vividly that a man would do anything rather than fall asleep."
"Is that what they do to you?"
Gabriel refused to answer. Instead he asked a question of his own. "Why do you think dreams would be easier?"
"Because then I wouldn't have to worry whether this time someone will believe me. Because dreams wouldn't chase away someone I..." her words trailed away, leaving a fraught silence.
Someone I love, he finished silently. It left a sour taste in his mouth. "Who did you chase away?"
Kalesia stirred. "I--I'd rather not talk about this."
"Who did you chase away?" he pressed, the hard knot in the pit of his stomach beginning to burn.
Kalesia pulled out of his arms and got to her feet. Her arms went around her waist in a protective gesture. "I said I don't want to talk about it. And don't push. You don't have the right," she said, her voice tight.
"The hell I don't. I'm trying to save your life."
"What does that have to do with any previous relationships?" she demanded.
"Haven't you ever considered the possibility that he might be behind the threat on your life?" There had been a man. Gabriel tried to tell himself that Kalesia was a grown woman. That it was only natural she had loved before. He knew the idea shouldn't bother him, but it did.
"Why should he?" She rounded on him. "He walked out on me!"
"Why?"
"Because I was naive enough to share one of my visions, that's why. Satisfied? Believe me, once I confided in him he couldn't get out of the relationship fast enough. Last I heard," she said with strained casualness, "he had married. A nice, normal woman."
She made for the stairs. "Look, it's getting late. Since we have to get up early to see Major Harley, I think I'll go to bed."
What had he expected? he thought as she disappeared upstairs. Kalesia had very high fences around the issue of her ability. Still, he hadn't been able to resist, needing to know everything about this woman.
It sank in that her lover was married. The idiot had actually left the sweet witch for another woman. Instant, fierce satisfaction welled.
Only to have a cold chill doused it. Not once had she said what she felt toward her ex-lover. Did she still care for the man? Did Kalesia lay in bed at night remembering past kisses and caresses?
Gabriel slammed the door on that line of thought. Her feelings for the other man mattered little. What mattered was she was under his roof now, responding to his kisses.
Everything had seemed so clear and simple while he held her in his arms and comforted her. Desire had stirred at her nearness. The ache in his lower body intensified, mocking half-formed plans to seduce his redheaded witch with sweet words. Hell, he'd never been any good with sweet words anyway. A knife, a pistol, a rifle, his hands, but not with the hot, sweet words needed to lower a witch's guard enough to let a man crawl in beside her and warm himself at her fire.
He snapped out the light and climbed the stairs. Once in his room, he crossed to the French window and stepped out onto the veranda.
It was a safe bet he had another long night ahead of him. He sank down in the white rattan chair. Propping his feet on the rail, he stared at the stars.
"I HATE police stations." Kalesia dragged on Gabriel's arm, trying to slow him.
"It's not a police station. It's a sheriff's office," he returned. "Quit stalling. You have more excuses than Carter has little liver pills." He gripped her arm more firmly and pulled her along with implacable intent.
"That's splitting hairs. You know perfectly well what I mean," she grumbled, nearly running to keep up with his longer stride.
He slanted her an amused glance, but didn't slow until he stopped at a desk and leaned a hip against it. "Harley in?"
Deputy Gary Parker looked up from the report he was typing. A wide grin split his face. "Gabriel! Where the hell have you been, man? It's been months."
"Working."
Gary shook his head. "When you gonna learn that all work and no play makes Gabe a hermit?"
"Figured out the difference between English ivy and poison ivy, yet?"
A bright red flush stained the young man's face. Kalesia was fascinated.
"Ah, hell. Ain't you ever gonna let me live that down?" The young deputy squirmed under her interested stare.
Kalesia turned to Gabriel, one brow raised in question. "Poison ivy?"
Gabriel just smiled slightly and settled more securely on the edge of the desk.
She turned to Deputy Parker. "Well? Is someone going to tell me?"
Parker ran a finger under the edge of his buttoned down collar. He cleared his throat. "Uh, well. The department needed three people to go undercover in a nursery. I, uh, I volunteered." Deputy Parker began to look uncomfortable.
"What he means is that he wanted to get close to Deputy Bailey. Deputy Janet Bailey."
"Yeah, well. As I was saying, I volunteered. Major Harley sent me, Janet, and Pompano out to Gabe's for enough training to pass muster." He shot Gabriel an aggrieved glance. "How the hell was I supposed to know it was poison ivy?"
"How the hell was I supposed to know you were trying to impress Bailey with your nonexistent knowledge of plants?" Gabriel shot back.
Kalesia began laughing. "I think I'm beginning to get the picture. Was it very bad?" she asked sympathetically.
"He waded into a patch, waist deep, and began pulling it out by the handfuls." Gabriel lifted one sardonic brow. "He landed in the hospital."
Swallowing her laughter, Kalesia managed to keep her face straight. "And Deputy Bailey? Did you manage to impress her?"
Gary shook his head ruefully, but mischief twinkled in his eyes. "Not exactly. I think she was afraid to let me loose on my own. According to her, she agreed to marry me just to keep me out of trouble."
Gabriel toyed with a pencil on the desk. "So. Is Harley in?"
Gary Parker grimaced. "Yeah, he's in, but he's not going to be in a very good mood. He's got a bigwig in his office now."
"Trouble?"
"Nah. Senator Morne's out stompin' again, and he wants local law endorsement. Looks good to the voters when you're trying to promote yourself as big on crime. If you ask me, the man's got bigger plans than Florida on his agenda."
"How long before they finish?"
"Reckon anytime now." Parker turned as Harley's door opened.
"Thank you for your time, Major. I'm sure you understand that I need all the support I can gather when that bill goes to the floor."
Tall, with a stern, distinguished face, Senator Morne shook hands with Tom Harley, a practiced smile on his face. He practically exuded power, from the heavy gold watch on his wrist to the gold cufflinks peeking from beneath the custom-tailored cashmere jacket. Kalesia watched as he patted Major Harley on the shoulder then, looking neither left nor right, swept down the hallway, giving the impression of an important man on his way to important places.
Harley spotted Gabriel and Kalesia and motioned them inside his office. Seated behind his desk, Harley leaned back and released an exasperated sigh.
"Politicians. They all seemed to think the world revolves around them." He propped an ankle over his knee, his intelligent brown eyes going first to Kalesia and then to Gabriel. "So, what can I do for you?"
"I need you to institute a search for a murder victim."
"Gabe, I haven't had time to search down the identities of the three you gave me. Hell, man, you just called me yesterday."
"You got time to search for a body?" Gabriel asked, eyeing his friend sar
donically.
Harley's foot crashed to the floor. "On what evidence?" he asked ominously.
"Kalesia."
"Dammit, Gabe. You know I can't do that. If word got out that I wasted man hours searching for a body on the say-so of a dream, my ass would be out the door before you could whistle Dixie."
"I believe her."
That stopped Harley mid-protest. He stared at Gabriel. "You can't be serious." He turned to Kalesia. "Look, I don't mean to sound harsh, Miss Brannigan, but I can't turn men out just because you have a dream."
"You owe me, Harley."
"Don't pull that on me, Gabe. We're friends, but the department doesn't need the publicity it'll get when word gets out."
"How about when word gets out the department sat on the information of a murder?"
"You wouldn't." Harley held up a hand. "Forget I asked. Of course you would."
"Gabriel!" Kalesia protested, aware of Harley's anger.
"One way or the other, I'm going to check out Kalesia's vision. I'd prefer to have your help."
"You can really be a cold SOB when you want to be," Harley said, a slight quirk at the corner of his mouth. "Okay. I'll go along with you. Give me everything you've got."
When Harley finished questioning Kalesia, he tapped the pencil against the yellow legal pad. Abruptly, he shoved to his feet. "Wait here. I'll go arrange for the manpower."
As soon as the door shut behind Harley, Kalesia rounded on Gabriel. "I can't believe you blackmailed an officer of the law," she said, outraged.
"Remember that old saying `careful what you wish for, you might get it'?" Gabriel grinned lazily. "You got it."
"Well, I certainly didn't want to break the law to get someone to check out my visions!" Kalesia fretted, darting a black look in his direction.
"You didn't," he pointed out, much too sanguine for Kalesia's liking. "I did."
"WHAT DO YOU mean, I can't go?"
Harley glanced at Gabriel for help, before turning back to the woman with her hands planted firmly on her hips.
"This is official business. I can't take you."
"You won't find the murder victim unless I go along." She started tapping her toe. First they wouldn't believe her, and now they seemed determined not to let her help.