Come Hell or High Desire

by Misty Dietz

  Bondage. She wasn’t helping to ease his lust haze at all. “Oh great, vision virgins.”

  “Not anymore.” Her laughter bubbled up again. He leaned back against the sofa and laced his fingers behind his head, resigning himself to a permanent hard-on. “So what did you see?”

  She bit her lip, and he nearly lost his no-touching resolve at the quiet appeal in her eyes.

  So she feels it, too.

  Somehow that calmed the beast in him. A paradox, but he was grateful. He smiled at her. She blushed and paced the length of the living room, relaying the details of the vision. By the time she recounted Ann’s attack and then her voluntary departure, Zack was wearing his own path in front of the picture window, emotions—different ones this time—running hot and hard through his blood.

  The tomcat strolled into the room like he owned it. Sloane bent to stroke him. “So, do you have any idea who the man might be? Someone like him certainly sticks out,” she said.

  He wanted to pound his fist into the wall. “What type of man is savage enough to knock a woman around like that? I’ll find him and kill him. A person like that’s a menace to society.”

  She walked into his personal space. “Let’s relax and make a plan, okay? Going ape-shit isn’t going to help right now.”

  “If you think this is going ape-shit, you’ve led a pretty sheltered life, princess.”

  “Don’t be a jerk, Zack.”

  They glared at each other until he sat down heavily on the edge of the sofa. “What could he have wanted her to get rid of—”

  Oh.

  Oh, God. The baby. The rushing in his ears, the sick feeling in his gut, told him it had to be. He cursed wildly.

  Her clapping hands finally got his attention. “Take it easy! Lordy, what is it?” she asked.

  “The baby! He was talking about Ann’s baby, the roadkill motherf—” He spun away and pulled on his scalp so hard he was surprised he didn’t come away with chunks of hair.

  Her eyebrows drew together. “Baby? What baby?”

  “Ann’s knocked up!”

  “Don’t be so crass!”

  He advanced on her until they were nearly nose to nose. “Fine, fine! Sorry to insult your refined sensibilities, but I’m beyond bent right now, headed full steam toward ape-shit.”

  “Yep.”

  He made a sound of disgust and walked away from her to glare out the front window. Ann was having a baby, and the sperm donor not only wanted nothing to do with it, he wanted it gone. The man had obviously cut her on so many levels. How could she have gotten tangled up with the likes of someone so heartless? And how could he have been so blind to it all? He turned around to see if Sloane was still there.

  Only then did she speak. “I’m sorry. I wish I would have seen more. Seen what is happening now, instead of what already happened.”

  “Did she leave with him later?”

  She hesitated. “I don’t know. I didn’t see out the doorway. I only saw her.”

  He wanted to start swearing again, but bit the inside of his cheek instead. “Okay, but what’s your gut say? I won’t hold it against you if you’re wrong.”

  “I don’t think she left with him later on.”

  “Why?”

  “She had freshened up, but wasn’t wearing any lipstick.” At his confused look, she continued. “Her man wears expensive clothes, and his hands and nails look like they’ve never seen an honest day’s work.” She looked pointedly at his disheveled appearance, and he couldn’t help but appreciate her comparison. “If she’s pregnant with his baby and unsure of his intentions, she’s always going to try to look her best for him. That’s my guess, anyway.” Fear edged into her eyes. She pursed her lips and held out her hand. “Okay. Give me that stupid note.”

  The woman was a warrior. Truly.

  He walked over to the sofa. “You’re gonna sit when you do it this time.” When she complied, he sat next to her, grabbed her left hand, and put the note in her right one. The minute her fingers clasped the paper, she swayed on the cushions. Zack shot up and knelt between her legs. Her eyes rolled back.

  Not knowing what she was experiencing sucked. All he had to go on was her facial expressions and utterances. And that was bad enough. How could she stand it?

  “Zack?”

  She can talk to me this time? He curled his other hand around her fist holding the paper. “I’m here.”

  He could feel some of the tension drain out of her fingers. “I can…I’m starting to… I guess, feel myself on both sides this time. Oh, wow. Here, with you, and…he…he’s writing on a small table. Coffee smells and birds. Feels like morning. Nice, groomed hands. Oh!”

  He was probably bruising her, but he couldn’t make himself loosen his grip. She moaned. He was ready to burn that fucking paper. Burn it and stomp on the ashes like an Aborigine with face paint and a loin cloth.

  “He’s tearing off duct tape and affixing the note to a door. He strikes the door with his fist and laughs.” Her mouth worked silently as though trying to talk and listen at the same time, but only managing to listen. “His aura is so black. I can’t see him. Only his hands. Nice hands. Ann. It’s her. The note is about her.”

  The confirmation was a blow to the solar plexus. He dropped her hands. The note slipped, floating, twirling like a whirligig to the floor. Sloane blinked awake, then sank back against the cushions.

  He shouldn’t be surprised that the note was indeed about Ann.

  People say the not knowing is harder.

  Not always.

  He exhaled so strongly her hair stirred. She smiled weakly, and he shook his head before going to the kitchen and returning with a glass of water. He handed it to her. After a large swallow, she set the glass down and looked at him. He couldn’t read her expression, and he wasn’t sure his voice wouldn’t crack, so he kept silent.

  “I’m sorry—so sorry—I couldn’t see who it was. I’m…even more afraid for Ann and her baby. And now you. The note writer’s malice is…rather overwhelming. Terrifying, actually.” She shuddered. He stood, gave in to the emotion driving him, and kissed her hair as he pulled her into his arms.

  Who would want to treat Ann that badly?

  Or was the hatred for him? That he could accept a lot more readily than someone despising Ann.

  He leaned back to look at Sloane. “So you saw note-man’s hands. And you saw the hands of the cretin who hit Ann. Same guy?”

  She pressed her fingertips against her cheekbones. Pressed them so hard her fingers left white marks when they lifted. “Maybe. They seemed very similar.”

  He was hoping it would be a slam dunk. But life almost never worked that way. He walked to the picture window once more. Now what?

  “All I can say is they weren’t hands like yours. They didn’t have any scars or calluses or…”

  He turned back to her. She pressed her fingers over her lips, then let them drop. “I didn’t mean that in a bad way.”

  “I am what I am. I appreciate your efforts.”

  She bowed her head and didn’t say anything as they walked to the foyer and then outside. She put on a brave smile. He frowned and opened the door of her SUV. She slid into the plush interior, her vanilla scent tempting him to…what?

  Ask her to stay?

  But she had to go. His head was seriously messed up right now. The note. A baby. ESP. Kidnapping. The day seemed to have ripped a page from one of the thrillers Ann loved so much.

  She slid onto the seat. “Have you contacted the police yet? I have a connection in the Fargo PD’s intelligence unit who might be able to help.”

  “Since it’s been less than a day, the cops won’t do much more than file a report unless there are suspicious circumstances. Adults can go missing if they choose. But…I’ll tell them what I can.” Clearly, none of this stuff.

  Her soft smile reached her eyes this time, and he felt like a hero. Stupid.

  “Then at least we know all the bases are covered. Would you please call me w
hen you hear anything?”

  She could have told him to have Ann call her. She didn’t. It pleased him. And the fact that it did, didn’t please him. “Sure.”

  “The cat?”

  “I’ll look after the stray until she gets back,” he said.

  “And if you come across the crystal rhino—”

  “I’ll hang onto it and let you know. Sorry you didn’t find it.” He hit the automatic locks on her door and slowly backed away from the vehicle. She started the engine and rolled down the window.

  “Well…bye then?” She didn’t put the car in gear.

  What more did she expect him to say? I don’t really know you, but you’re amazing? She’d think he was a head case. Yet those gray-brown eyes worked to storm his fortress. He moved toward the SUV again and brushed the back his fingers across her cheek before he could think better of it. “You okay? What happened in there…”

  Her eyes grew luminous. “I need some time to think about all of it, too. I’ve never been able to simultaneously stand in both realities—my life and the visions. It…helps. Rather a lot. So thank you for that. Really.”

  He shrugged. “I’m sure it wasn’t me. Maybe you’re just growing into your powers or something.”

  She smiled slightly. “I don’t think so. Anyway, I wish I could have been more help, but if anything else comes to me I can call you if you want to give me your number.”

  Giving her his card felt a lot more personal that it should have.

  She tucked it in her purse on the passenger seat and turned back to him. “Be careful, okay?”

  Her softness made him ache. He scraped his hands into his front pockets. “I have a lot more to go on than before. I’ll stop by a few of the other neighbors around here. Someone else is bound to have seen something. Thanks for everything you’ve done.” Then he backed away from her vehicle and turned toward his truck before his fool self asked her to stay.

  Ann was gone and in a hell of a lot of trouble. He’d find her. He had to.

  Behind him he heard Sloane pull out of Ann’s driveway. And suddenly he felt very alone.

  Chapter Nine

  Blinded in the storeroom after the dazzling sunshine outside, Sloane bumped into a ladder, shattering a glass jar. Tori flew into the room, her voluminous turquoise skirts continuing to move for several seconds after she’d come to a standstill. “What the heck?”

  “Sorry. Bright outside, dark in here.” Sloane grabbed the broom to clean up the glass. Why did she come back here, of all places? She should’ve gone home after her pit stop at McDonalds. She didn’t want to face Tori’s questions. But then, if she’d gone home, she’d probably think about the way Zack’s eyes had all but stripped her bare. It made her breathless remembering the way he’d—

  Tori snapped her fingers in Sloane’s face. “Wake up! Benjamin’s guy was here hours ago. I tried your phone like twelve times. Where’ve you been all this time?”

  “What?” Sloane set the broom against the wall and dug in her purse for her phone. Sure enough, the sucker was dead. But that didn’t make sense. “How the—” It had been fully charged when she’d left her apartment this morning. Then she remembered her mother complaining about technology sometimes acting up when she “worked.”

  One more “con” to add to the whole I’m psychic and I’m pretty sure this blows list.

  “Sloane!”

  She started, hugging her purse to her chest like she was about to be mugged. “Sorry, what did you say?”

  “Did you get the rhino?” Tori asked.

  Sloane’s shoulders fell. She tossed the purse on her desk. “Couldn’t find it.”

  “No!”

  Sloane nodded. “What did you tell Benjamin?”

  “It wasn’t him. He sent a stick-up-the-ass assistant. I told him the rhino was in the safe, but you had a personal emergency and were the only one who knew the code.”

  “And?”

  “His face got all blotchy and gross. He demanded that I call you to get the code. Seriously, the guy’s ten pounds of shit in a five pound bag.”

  Sloane smiled in spite of her churning stomach. “How did it end?”

  “He told me Benjamin wants the rhino by tomorrow or he’s withdrawing his support for the foundation. God, I’m so sorry!”

  Benjamin’s ultimatum settled over her. She sank into her desk chair.

  Tori spun her chair around to face her. “Maybe this is for the best. If he was Broken Wing’s sponsor, he’d always have first dibs on making you miserable.”

  “I knew that going in, but I guess I thought it was worth it.” This was exactly what she’d been afraid of. No Ann, no crystal rhino. No rhino, no sponsor. No sponsor, no foundation.

  Her dream dead in the water.

  She hung her head. The gray concrete floor blurred when Tori’s fingers touched her shoulder. A ripple of energy flashed diagonally through her torso, scorching her hip. Tori was talking, but Sloane couldn’t make sense of the words. A hazy figure rose up in her field of vision, the lower edges wavering like its legs were on fire. Blue flames tinged orange. Scents of burning hair and something else really awful polluted the air. Melting skin? Oh. She was gonna be sick. The figure’s arms reached for her.

  No!

  Contact with her shoulder was gone. She reared away from Tori, tumbling backward in the chair, banging her head on the desk. When she looked up from the floor, her eyes refocused to find Tori staring at her as if she’d sprouted horns and a tail.

  “What the devil was that?” Tori knelt beside her. “Seriously. You went somewhere else when I touched you. I’ve never seen you do that before. Did I bring it on?”

  Sloane pressed the heels of her hands to her eyes. This psychic freak show stuff seemed to go hand in hand with the tear factory. “Please, Tori. Can I— I need a moment to myself.”

  “Forget it, Sloane. I know you’re wigging out right now, but I want to help.” Her eyes looked concerned, determined. Excited. “Here, get up off the floor, you don’t want a trip to the doctor’s office to remove slivers of glass out of your badonkadonk. Now sit here.” She patted the cushy zebra-print chair until Sloane obeyed, then handed her a can of Red Bull. Extra caffeine might not be such a good idea right now. But by the time the first sip slid down her throat, she had it a bit more together. Tori sat silently in the swivel chair across from her. Waiting.

  Sloane took another drink. “Sorry. Don’t know what that was all about.”

  “Yes you do. Tell me.”

  “Stop being so pushy.”

  “I know you’ve got powers. In all these years, have I ever told another soul?”

  Sloane squeezed the blue and silver can. How to explain? “When you touched me, I saw a figure…on, well…oh, it was on fire.”

  “On fire? Like burning? A person?”

  She nodded.

  Tori hesitated, blinked. “That’s scary stuff. Maybe you’re having a breakdown because you’ve been denying your gift too long.”

  Sloane pushed back in her chair. “That’s ridiculous. I’ve known how to control it for years. I simply avoid situations that instigate the visions.” Which has worked quite well until a certain tall, dark, and melt-my-panties walking hunk of testosterone stormed into my world this morning.

  Goddamn.

  Tori leaned forward in the chair. “Yeah? And how’s that working for you? Natural impulses can only be under lock and key for so long before there are repercussions.”

  Sloane snorted. “There is nothing natural about this.”

  “You’re wrong, Sloane. It’s part of who you are, but you refuse to acknowledge it.”

  She was on the verge of contradicting Tori when Carmen poked her head around the showroom door. “Sorry to interrupt, chicas, but I need some help out yonder. Everyone and their gramma’s shoppin’ today, and one old lady with nothing but sailboat fuel between her ears won’t leave me be.”

  “Be there in a sec.” Tori looked at Sloane after Carmen returned to the floor.
“I’m not usually superstitious, but I have a bad feeling about all of this. I don’t know if it’s any help, but Ann keeps a diary. She told me a few weeks ago when I was whining about Teddy.”

  “Why would she tell you that?”

  “She said it was cathartic to write about things you can’t tell anyone else. I thought it was sad at the time. She obviously doesn’t have any of the if you’re in jail I’m in jail type of friends. I didn’t say much at the time because I thought maybe we’d become that for her.”

  A diary? When would she ever find the time to write in it? Maybe she should tell Zack. Maybe they should go back to the condo to look for it.

  No. No way. I’ve fulfilled my obligations. Zack said so himself.

  “…and I think your instincts are telling you to be careful, too. Maybe your mom’s gone through something like this. You know, when she was your age? Maybe if you talked to her—”

  “Whoa. Don’t even go there. Mom’s got the talent to go with the gift. I don’t. Besides, this is about Ann. Not Zack, and certainly not me.” Sloane stood and walked to the mess at her desk where she shuffled a bunch of papers without really seeing them. “Thanks for telling me about the diary. And for your concern. Be sure to let me know if you guys need help. I’ll be around till we close.” Figuring out how to plug the holes in my dream.

  She sensed Tori’s eyes boring into her back for another moment before the door shut on a soft swish. She collapsed into the chair and dropped her head in her hands.

  She was under attack. In the last twenty-four hours she’d experienced more psychic energy than she’d allowed herself in the last six years. Add to that the fact that Benjamin had surely already dropped her like third period French. He’d probably bad-mouth her all over town, too.

  Horrors all around.

  She should call Benjamin. But what could she say? There was no rhino in her safe.

  She caught herself chewing a fingernail, staring blindly at an invoice on the desk. Instead of seeing numbers, she imagined intense green eyes so old with their secrets. What kind of life had Zack led? There was an edge under his practiced nonchalance.