Tall, Dark and Paranormal: 10 Thrilling Tales of Sexy Alpha Bad Boys

by Opal Carew

“I didn’t spill the beans,” Liliana confirmed to him, miming that she was zipping her lips.

  “I’m on a job, Mom.”

  “And you involve your sister!” his mother complained, rising up on tiptoe and wagging a finger in his face.

  He snagged that digit before it took out an eye and as he did so, he noticed Caterina’s amused face. Before he could do anything else, Liliana jumped back into the fray.

  “I asked Mick if I could stay here. I broke off my engagement with Harrison.”

  His mother immediately launched into action. She pressed the bag of food into Caterina’s hands and embraced Liliana.

  “Ay, niña. La virgencita has answered my prayers,” she said. Then she released his sister and wrapped her arms around him, pressed her head against the middle of his chest, which was the only spot her petite stature permitted her to reach.

  “Why didn’t you say you were helping your sister?” The grip of her arms was tight, but there was a doughy softness to them and her bosom which reminded him of his youth and the comfort of that embrace.

  He hugged her back hard, bent, and dropped a kiss against the side of her face. “I’m glad you’re here. I was hungry.”

  In answer to the enticing smells from the bag that had wafted into his vicinity, his stomach growled loudly.

  The three women all laughed in unison, although their laughs couldn’t have been more different. His mother’s loud and slightly hoarse. Liliana’s like a short burst of gunfire.

  Cat’s was almost melodic, with a freedom he suspected she hadn’t experienced in quite a long time. The smile on her face confirmed that impression, as did the deep blue of her eyes.

  When he took the bag from her hands, their fingers brushed, kindling the need he had tempered last night. Bringing a spark of awareness in her as well, he realized.

  * * *

  Caterina quickly withdrew her hands from the bag, ignoring the sensation jumping alive within her at the simple and innocent touch of their fingers.

  Mick rushed away with the bag, leaving her to follow Liliana and Mariel as the two women walked arm-in-arm toward the kitchen.

  The resemblance between the two was strong, much like that of Mick and Liliana, only Mariel’s eyes were neither green nor brown, but a light-colored hazel.

  Their mother was petite like Liliana, but with a stout figure which said she had clearly enjoyed a lot of her own cooking.

  The sight of them – mother and daughter, clearly friends – roused memories of her own childhood. Of strolling beside her mother in the park or sitting beside her on the piano bench as her mother played, the notes from the piano resonating through the space of their small apartment.

  An apartment similar to this home with its rich colors, artisanal furniture, and collectibles that spoke of a love for culture and tradition.

  Interesting for a man who she might have said spent little time in one place. Someone had definitely used some loving care in building this home, although there were things which also hinted that he neglected it.

  Like the candles that had lost their fragrance.

  In the kitchen they gathered at the table. Mick was quick to empty the bag of the aluminum pans filled with an assortment of foods while Liliana retrieved beverages for everyone.

  Anyone looking in on the picture would say it was just another family gathering. Only she wasn’t family. She had no family, just a circle of friends who now might believe that she wasn’t a murderess.

  She swiped at her eye, brushing away a tear, and motherly Mariel immediately noted her upset.

  Patting her hand as it rested on the tabletop, Mariel said, “Do not worry, niña. If Miguelito is helping you, all will turn out well.”

  She met Mick’s gaze from across the width of table, almost daring him to admit that when it came to her there would be no happy ending, but he remained silent.

  Maybe it was better that way. Mariel didn’t need to know that the son she seemed to adore was holding her captive. That he had taken money to return her to a man who had engineered her into some kind of genetic freak.

  When Liliana placed a plate laden with a sampling of Mexican foods before her, she had little appetite, upset as she was by the current state of her life. But it was difficult to ignore the enticing and earthy smells of the food which resuscitated happy memories in her brain and had her mouth watering as if she were one of Pavlov’s dogs.

  “I remember some chef saying that as long as you kept your food, your culture would stay with you,” she said, carefully forking up pieces of a tomato-laced meat that had been stewed until tender.

  “Did your mom cook Mexican food for you?” Liliana asked.

  “Your mami was Mexican? Que bueno.” Mariel clapped her hands together and riveted her gaze on Mick. “She’s a Mexicana, mi’jito. Isn’t that wonderful?”

  “Her father was American. Irish, right?”

  “Of Irish descent,” she replied after swallowing the delicious meat.

  “Irish and Mexican. Two cultures rich in the arts. That must explain your love of music,” his mother said before daintily digging into her own plate of food.

  “Mom was a pianist. A very good one, but my father didn’t approve of her performing. He wanted her home and taking care of him while he built his business.” Mention of her father diminished her hunger, so she pushed around a bit of enchilada on her plate.

  “He didn’t approve of your choice of career either, did he?” Mick asked, a tenderness in his voice that made her jerk her head up in surprise and meet his gaze.

  Understanding was developing there. More than she had expected to see based on his actions which said he had to keep his distance, emotionally and physically.

  “No, he didn’t approve.”

  “His loss, Cat. You’re an amazing musician and your mother must have been as well to instill such passion in you,” he said.

  All three women turned to peer at him. Caterina in surprise, Liliana with a knowing grin, and his mother with pride and hopefulness.

  “Thank you,” Caterina replied, pleased by the support she had not expected. In the little time they had spent together, Mick had been controlling and determined. She had even come to accept what he was – a man who would take on a dangerous and possibly illegal job for money.

  But this was just another of those fragile moments where he also showed her he was capable of tenderness and caring, confusing her.

  Caterina couldn’t wrap her head around what the real Mick was like.

  “Nice to know you’re finally liberated, Mick,” Liliana teased, dispelling the growing seriousness of the discussion.

  Mick chuckled at her comment and resumed eating, and so did Caterina. The food had been prepared with care and loving, adding a special essence to it that filled more than just their bellies.

  By the time they had finished eating and sharing a few stories about Liliana, Mick, and their other two siblings, she felt relaxed, but also tired and achy. There was a growing heat in her body and pain in her joints. Caterina understood it was a reaction to the replication inhibitor Liliana had injected her with the night before. She wondered when she would be due for another shot and whether her body could handle it.

  As Mick was ushering his mother out the door, insisting that Caterina had to rest and he had work to do, Mariel trailed her motherly eye over the sweats swimming on her body.

  “Surely you have something else for Caterina to wear, Miguel?”

  Mick released an exasperated sigh and said, “There hasn’t been time to get her anything.”

  Mariel slashed her hand through the air and eyeballed her before facing Liliana. “Caterina seems close to Roberta’s size, don’t you think?”

  Liliana examined her, appearing like a younger version of Mariel before she confirmed the assessment with a determined tilt of her head. “About the same as Bobbie. She left some clothes at home, didn’t she?”

  “Sí, just like Roberta. She won’t be home on leave for a couple of month
s, so she won’t miss them. Liliana can come get them later.”

  Before Mick could argue, Mariel was bustling out the door, leaving the three of them standing there in her wake.

  Mick was quick to say, “I’m sorry, Cat. I know she can be a handful.”

  Caterina thought about Mariel’s food, concern, and highhandedness. She could find nothing for which Mick should apologize.

  With a smile, she said, “She reminds me of my mother. I like her.”

  Caterina expected both the siblings to argue with her as siblings sometimes did when it came to their parents, but they didn’t. Instead, Mick said, “You’re looking a little pale.”

  “Tired. A little sore,” she confessed and rubbed the top of her bowing arm, which was always the one to give her the most trouble. She’d battled with some bursitis there for years.

  Liliana frowned. “You’re not due for another shot until tomorrow, but if the aches and fever haven’t subsided by then I’m not sure we should give you another shot.”

  “I’m with you, Liliana. I don’t like feeling like this,” she said.

  Mick jammed his hands into his pockets and inclined his head in the direction of the stairs. “Why don’t you go get some rest?”

  Caterina thought about the rest. Thought about an old saying she’d heard from her father more than once.

  “I’d rather find a way to help the two of you. There’ll be time enough to rest when I’m dead,” she said.

  Somehow his immediate nod of agreement brought little comfort.

  Chapter 26

  The three of them sat around the table for the bulk of the afternoon until both Caterina and Liliana were close to dropping off from a lack of sleep.

  Mick, damn him, was like an automaton, able to function on little rest. Caterina assumed that during his time in the Army he had likely gone days without anything more than short naps.

  When he urged both her and Liliana to go rest, Liliana protested, determined to walk the few blocks to their parents’ home in order to get the clothes for Caterina. Since she wasn’t due back at the hospital until the next day, she assured both of them that she would be able to get all the sleep she needed after that short errand.

  Mick indicated that he would accompany her, clearly fearful that Liliana would encounter Harrison once again.

  As much as she wanted not to display her weakness, Caterina’s eyes were heavy-lidded. All she could think about was sinking into the comfort of the bed.

  She started up the stairs, but tripped on a step.

  Mick was immediately there to help her, sliding an arm around her waist, and walking beside her to the guest room. She eased beneath the covers and he tucked her in, pulling a sleepy smile to her face.

  “You’re not such a hard nut after all,” Caterina whispered before closing her eyes.

  * * *

  Not such a hard nut, Mick thought, a wistful smile on his face as he considered a sleeping Caterina.

  She was on her side, her face resting against the pillow. One hand tucked beneath her cheek. There was a rosy hue to her skin, but it wasn’t a healthy blush.

  He placed the back of his hand on her forehead and measured the heat there. Still lower than it had been the night before, but based on the papers in the medical file they had reviewed yet again that afternoon, each dose of the inhibitor might bring ever higher temperatures as the drug attacked the replication going in her body. That attack unfortunately produced an immune response in the patients, leading to the fever, and sometimes muscular and skeletal pain.

  The only treatment was the plasmapheresis to remove the antibodies and debris left behind by the inhibitor. If a patient’s blood wasn’t cleansed in time, they could die.

  There was no time to rest if they were to keep her alive, he thought.

  Which meant that it was time to pay Edwards a visit. Rattle the cage and see how he reacted when pressed.

  Gently passing a hand across her hair, he vowed to make sure that whoever had done this to Caterina would get their just rewards.

  For now, he would take a short break by walking Liliana home and then he had to figure out the best plan of attack against Edwards.

  * * *

  It had been a toss-up between confronting Edwards at his offices at Wardwell or his home in nearby Marlton.

  The home won out.

  Edwards probably had less security there than he had at the Wardwell facility, thinking that his castle was a safe place.

  Mick had dressed for the mission, black on black on black. In his satchel he had the equipment he would need to break into the home. He was well-armed, his Glock in a holster secured at the small of his back. A smaller pistol tucked into an ankle holster beneath the hem of his black jeans. For good measure, he had a knife in a sheath strapped to his left arm for easy access.

  He would not let Mad Dog get the upper hand tonight if he was there.

  As he walked from his office to the guest room to check in on Caterina before leaving, he found her awake and easing a black sweater over her head. The action provided him a quick glimpse of the slender lines of her body which were already looking fuller than they had a few days ago. Her skin was creamy against the ebony of the shirt and the black jeans she wore.

  Black on black on black. Not a good omen.

  Mick leaned a hand against the frame of the door and coughed to let her know he was there.

  She whirled to face him and finished pulling down the sweater. As she did so, the midnight-colored curls of her hair spilled down over her shoulders.

  “What do you think you’re doing?” he asked.

  “I’m going with you.” She dug her fingers into her hair, pulling it back and securing it with some kind of band. It exposed the fine lines of her face and the paleness of it, made more severe by all the darkness surrounding her.

  At his perusal, a slight blush came to her cheeks.

  “You’re staying here. Where you’ll be safe.”

  Hands outstretched, she pleaded her case. “I need answers. I need to face that son-of-a-bitch and know why he did this to me.”

  Mick understood what she needed. He just wasn’t sure that it was wise for her to be with him when he confronted Edwards. He shook his head. “It’s too risky with the way you are.”

  “The way I am?” she asked and took a step toward him. “You mean like this?”

  Before his eyes, her skin darkened in color, becoming almost as black as her clothing. The only remaining sign of color, the compelling blue of her irises and whites of her eyes.

  “You’ve been practicing?” he said and quirked an eyebrow to emphasize his point.

  “Not really,” she said with a shrug. “It just kind of happens.”

  Before his eyes, she returned to normal, and once again pleaded her case. “I need to be face-to-face with him.”

  “So you can skewer him like you did Wells?” he challenged and as he expected, he roused her anger and the fight response erupted, transforming her skin once more.

  She glanced down at the condemning color on her skin and then carefully and precisely enunciated each word as she marshaled her anger and the color faded.

  “I did not kill Wells.”

  “You know this because of a memory?” he attacked yet again, needing to push her. Needing to test her control.

  Caterina dropped her hands to her side and clenched them. The color change became visible at her wrists and near the neckline of the sweater, but then receded as she released a harsh breath.

  “Memories are all I have left right now.” Intense sadness colored her words, striking a stronger blow than any violence might have.

  He thought about what he had to do that night. Considered what role, if any, she might play in the mission.

  A risky business, taking her along and yet he understood she needed to control her own fate. He also realized that giving Edwards a show of what he had created might help them get more information.

  He stalked to her and kneeled before her.
“Bring your leg here,” he said and tapped his left thigh.

  She did as he asked, stepping onto his thigh.

  He pulled down the sock she wore and deftly removed the electronic monitoring device. Tossing it on the bed, he said, “I hope I don’t live to regret this.”

  “You won’t,” she urged and removed her foot so that he might rise.

  “We’ll see,” he said.

  * * *

  Google Street View had accurately depicted Edwards’ home and the surrounding residences.

  He would not be able to park the Jeep on the street without attracting attention, Mick thought as he drove to the end of the court before circling around and back off the block.

  Thanks to suburban sprawl, however, the next block down to the enclave of McMansions was an everyday middle class street of medium-sized plots and one-car driveways. A number of vehicles were parked along the street, including another black Jeep Liberty much like his, even down to the American flag cover on the spare wheel.

  He pulled into an empty driveway and did a K-turn. Returned to an open space at the mouth of the street and abutting a wooded corner plot that belonged to one of the McMansions. He parked the car and cut the ignition.

  He removed the keys, tucked them into his jeans pocket, and stared past Caterina as she sat beside him. She had been dozing off and on during the nearly hour long drive to the area, her strength clearly still not back to normal. As she woke and glanced in his direction, the bright flush of her fever was visible even in the dark.

  It roused concern about her role tonight, but he couldn’t have left her at home after her plea.

  He motioned to the wooded area as she gazed out the window.

  “We’ll cut through that stand of trees until we reach the back of Edwards’ home. You’ll stay in the woods until I find a way to get inside. Is that understood?”

  A curt nod of her head confirmed his instructions.