set. Killers didn’t slip through your house, killing people you loved, leaving them lying in their own blood like forgotten dolls. Outside the house, media vans were already parked. Didn’t take long for news to travel. Not when every television station and newspaper in town was hooked into the police radio frequency. For now, all of the reporters were being stalled at the base of the driveway, held back not by their own moral codes, but by the string of police officers standing guard. In a few hours, there would be no one to keep them at bay. And she knew her fellow reporters well enough to know that they wouldn’t give her a moment’s peace. But what could she tell them? That she had one dead friend, one injured friend and that she had no idea why she had survived unscathed?
They wouldn’t accept that. Hell, she was having a hard time accepting it herself.
Because she had a very good idea why she’d escaped injury. Not for the first time since this awful morning had dawned, she thought of Kieran MacIntyre. Only the night before, he’d stood in her kitchen and warned her that she was in danger. Told her to lock her door. To protect herself.
How had he known?
And if she had been the one in danger, why was Alicia the one who was dead? Why was Kate on her way to a hospital?
And would things have been different if she’d told Alicia about Kieran’s warning? Would it have mattered at all? Those questions would be haunting her for a long time to come.
“All clear here,” a deep voice said from the patio and Julie spun around to stare through the open French doors.
Two men wearing uniforms that read Medical Examiner, gently lifted Alicia’s body and Julie had to close her eyes. Just like every other American with a television set, she knew all too well what was coming next. The somber-eyed men would lift Alicia’s body, lay her down on a sheet of heavy black plastic and then they would zip that body bag closed. Alicia would then be taken to a morgue and closed up in a refrigerated drawer. And she would be no more than a numbered statistic in a town where violent death was the norm, not the exception.
“Ms. Carpenter?”
“Yes.” She opened her eyes and looked up—way up—at Detective Coleman. At least six foot five, he had thick black hair, sharp brown eyes and a permanent frown etched into his fortyish features.
He closed his notebook and tucked it into the inside pocket of his jacket.
“We’ve finished here for the time being.” Glancing around at the crime scene techs, he added, “They’re still processing the scene, and I don’t think it’s a good idea for you to stay here.”
“No, I don’t think so, either.” She shivered again and folded her arms around her waist. She didn’t want to be here.
“One of the officers can take you to a hotel,” he offered.
“No.” Shaking her head she added, “Thanks, but no. I’m not sure where I’m going yet and…”
“It’s okay,” he said, not unkindly. “I understand. This is a hard thing.” He took a business card from his wallet and handed it over. “This is my number. If you think of anything else, call me. Once you know where you’re going to be, call me. I’ll stay in touch.”
She stared at the card, barely seeing it through the haze of tears still blurring her vision. “Thank you.”
When he walked away, Julie simply stood there for a long minute or two. She felt lost. Scared.
Alone.
Kieran only half listened to the police officers moving around the small patio. He wasn’t interested in their speculation. He didn’t need to guess what kind of monster had killed Julie Carpenter’s friend and grievously wounded another.
He already had the answer to that question.
Guilt pinged inside him like an unfamiliar echo and he fought to ignore it. Centuries he’d lived, moving through the mortal world like a shadow. He did his job and never indulged in futile, self-serving waves of guilt for not being able to save the victims who fell beneath a demon’s glee. He wasn’t the savior of the universe. He was only a warrior. He could only track and kill a demon after it had made its first move.
He couldn’t save those who were destined to die.
Irritably he reminded himself that he’d warned Julie of the dangers lurking near her. He’d followed the demon’s scent half the night. He’d had no way of knowing the damn thing would double back and make its kill in this house.
But, if he hadn’t been distracted by Julie in the first place, he might have caught the demon before it had a chance to kill again. If he’d been doing his job instead of kissing a woman he had no business being around, there might have been two fewer victims.
“Vicious bastard,” one of the cops muttered and Kieran had to agree. And the demon was just getting started.
He walked past the officer, now bent double to search the flagstone patio for evidence he wouldn’t find. The cop never noticed him. Guardians had the ability to obfuscate themselves at will, becoming no more substantial than the shadows that crouched on the edges of sunlight. Stepping into the house, Kieran let his gaze sweep the room, looking past the crime scene people as he searched for the woman who had survived. Why?
Why had she lived? Had the demon been so bent on enjoying itself with its first victim it hadn’t even bothered to look for more? Movement at the corner of his eye caught his attention and Kieran turned his head to see Julie taking small, uneven steps toward the kitchen. Instinctively he followed her, while maintaining the aura that kept him from being seen.
He kept pace with her through the kitchen and down the long hall that led to what he assumed would be her bedroom. He heard the soft hitch of her breath as her stifled sobs shuddered through her and a long dormant corner of his heart ached to comfort her.
But what comfort was there to offer?
She slipped into her room and closed the door with a quiet snick of sound. Sunlight poured in through a window where the drapes had been tossed open wide. He glanced around her room, then focused on her again as she folded in on herself, dropping to the edge of her bed and covering her face in her hands.
Pain, as unfamiliar to Kieran as guilt, washed over him in thick, black waves. He hadn’t even attempted to comfort a living soul in centuries. No doubt he would be terrible at it, so he didn’t even try. “Julie.”
Her head whipped up and tear-filled green eyes fixed on his face. Shock rippled across her features for a blinding half second and then fury took its place. Leaping off the bed, she charged him. Hands flailing, she slapped and clawed at him in a fit of panic and hurt and anger. Those eyes of hers flashed as she whispered brokenly, “It’s your fault. You did this. You brought this here.”
He caught her hands in his and held them in tight fists. Kieran felt her pain as surely as if it were his own. The connection between them hummed in the air, drawing him in even as he fought the urge to step back and away from her.
“Stop this,” he ordered. “It’s not helping.”
“Helping?” Julie struggled in his grip, yanking and pulling at her hands until finally he released her, more for his own peace of mind than hers.
“Nothing can help,” she said hotly. “Don’t you understand? Alicia’s dead. Kate’s in the hospital and the paramedics looked as though they were already burying her even while they were pumping medication into her body.”
“I know,” he said.
“You know.” She nodded and paced in short, staccato steps, back and forth across her room, pausing only long enough to glare at him. “Of course you know. You told me last night that something was here. Something dangerous.” She stopped short in front of him, whipped her hair out of her eyes and narrowed them in suspicion. “How do I know it wasn’t you? How do I know you didn’t attack them?”
Irritated again, with both her and himself, he pushed one hand through his hair and snapped, “You know. You feel it.”
“What I feel,” she countered, suddenly rubbing her hands up and down her arms, “is sick and scared and—Oh God. Alicia’s dead.”
Her fury was easier to
deal with than her misery. Kieran blew out a breath, gritted his teeth and said, “You can’t stay here.”
“I know that. Don’t you think I know that?” She turned away from him, walked to the window and stared out at the tree just beyond the glass. Sunlight shone around her as if she’d been dipped in gold. “I’ll never be able to stay here again. I couldn’t. Couldn’t be here and not see…” She drew a shaky breath and shook her head. “Even if I could, the cops want me out of here. They’re sealing the house for the investigation.”
“They won’t find anything.”
She turned her head and the sunlight illuminated one half of her face, leaving the other in shadow. “How do you know?”
“Because I know what killed your friend.”
She took a step toward him then stopped. “If you know who did this, you have to tell the police.”
“I said what,” he corrected. “Not who.”
“What’re you talking about?”
“Nothing.” He shouldn’t have said anything. She wouldn’t believe him and it would only make things harder than they already were. “Get your things. I’m taking you to my house. You’ll be safe there.”
“You’re not taking me anywhere.” She lifted her chin, stiffened her spine and gave him a look that probably quelled any mortal male she wanted to freeze out.
Didn’t bother him a bit.
Ignoring her, he walked to the closet, threw open the door and grabbed an armful of clothing, not giving a damn what he took.
“Stop!” Her voice lifting, she rushed at him again, pulling her clothes out of his grip. Bracing herself in front of her open closet like a castle guard standing between her queen and an enemy. “Just, get out. Get out now. I’m not going anywhere with you.”
“I can’t leave you on your own.”
She shot him another death glare. “I don’t remember giving you a vote. I’m going to a hotel.” She stepped past him to toss her clothes onto the bed.
“Damn you, woman, do you think this is over?” Kieran grabbed her arm and spun her around to face him. He yanked her close until she was forced to tip her head back to stare up at him. When he gave her a hard shake, the topknot her hair was in tumbled loose and her dark red hair fell around her shoulders.
Despite the sense of urgency clawing at his insides, Kieran felt the sharp stab of desire. The need to take her, taste her. To feed the connection between them. To see for himself if all the old Guardian legends about Mates were real.
His fingers on her arms tightened. Her gaze met his and just for an instant, Kieran forgot about his demon prey. Just for an instant, he lost himself in her eyes, and a part of him responded even more strongly to the fury glinting up at him.
“I have no time for you,” he muttered, his gaze moving over her face.
“Then let me go,” she demanded and gave his chest an ineffectual shove with both hands.
“No.”
Lifting her to him, he covered her mouth with his, his own frustration and fury feeding the kiss until he felt as though he were drowning in the taste of her.
Threads of something strong, something ethereal whipped from her to him and back again, stringing them together, binding them in a moment torn from time itself.
The world dropped away.
He held her closer, taking her mouth in a kiss that dragged him to the edge of an abyss he hadn’t even been aware of. Her breath mingled with his and Kieran felt the pounding of her heart thrum through his system like a chorus of drumbeats. Releasing her only long enough to scoop his hands up and into the mass of her hair, he took her harder, stronger, needing more.
His tongue caressed hers, his mouth devoured hers. She shifted in his grasp, instinctively moving closer, burrowing into him, surrendering herself with an eagerness that stole his breath.
Julie’s body lit up inside with the crashing burn of a sky full of fireworks. From the top of her head to her toes, her skin tingled and buzzed. His mouth on hers was both torment and delight. She knew damn well she should be shoving him away. She didn’t know him. Didn’t know anything about him except for the fact that he had been there in her house the night Alicia was killed. That he’d warned her of danger. For all she knew he was the source of the danger.
Sanity would demand that she keep clear of him. But who needed sanity when she could experience the amazing sensations flashing through her body?
Her breasts pressed to his chest and her nipples felt like pinpoints of flame. She ached to have him touch her. To feel his hands on her skin. To see how big these feelings could be.
He groaned and caught her up tightly to him, his arms coming around her like a vise. And her mind suddenly raced with thoughts that weren’t her own. As he dazzled her senses with a hunger she’d never known before, she tried to understand the images that rose up in her mind with such rapid intensity she could hardly separate one from another. Castles, standing proud on cliffs overlooking wild ocean waves. Knights on horseback, armor glittering in the sunlight. Forests stretching out for miles. A giant of a man in a leather vest swinging a broad sword at her. Julie gasped, broke the kiss and opened her eyes, half expecting to see that man. To feel the whistle of wind as the sword swept past her. But there was only her and Kieran MacIntyre in the room. Everything—
and nothing—was the same. God. Her body was still burning and her mind still filled with memories she knew didn’t belong to her.
“What the hell was that?” she whispered, taking a step back from him. He scrubbed one hand across his face, pulled in a long, deep breath and then blew it out again. His pale eyes met hers then shifted away. “Doesn’t matter.”
The nonanswer did nothing for her equilibrium.
When he looked back at her, his eyes were guarded, his features schooled into a stoic expression. “Get your things. We’re leaving.”
“I’m not going anywhere with you,” she said, taking another step back.
“I can’t protect you unless you’re with me.”
“Uh-huh. And what if it’s you I need protecting from?”
“Damn it, you know that is not true.”
“All I know is, you show up and my world goes to hell. Plus,” she added, shaking her head, trying to dislodge the images still burned on her brain,
“you’re some kind of wacko hypnotist or something. Making me see things. Slipping into my mind…”
“I’m tele—”
“—pathic,” she finished for him. “Yeah. So you said.”
“This…connection between us is not my idea,” he blurted, looking no more happy about the situation than she was.
“Fine. Great.” She threw both hands high, then let them slap down to her sides again. “Whatever. I’m not interested in a connection of any kind with you.” Liar, her brain whispered. “What I am interested in, is that you said earlier you knew who killed Alicia.”
Just saying those words made her body sway as if she’d taken a punch to the stomach. Alicia. Dead. Dear God.
“You have to talk to the police.”
“I can’t.”
“What do you mean you can’t?” she demanded. “You have to!”
“It wouldn’t do any good. They can’t stop it.”
“It?” This nightmare just got weirder by the minute.
“Never mind. It doesn’t matter. Doesn’t concern you.”
“Of course it concerns me. My friend is dead. For all I know, Kate is, too.”
“The police can’t find it. Can’t fight it. Only I can. Besides,” he added dismissively, “they wouldn’t believe me even if I told them the truth.”
“If you won’t tell them, I will,” Julie said, disgusted with him. With herself. For God’s sake, her friends had been attacked in their own home and she was kissing a man who at the very least was suspicious as hell. He caught her as she stormed toward the door. “You can’t.”
“Watch me.”
“This killer isn’t something you’re used to dealing with.”
�
�Meaning what? Until you barged into my life I never had any dealings with a killer.”
“The one who did this to your friends isn’t human.”
“I agree. He’s an evil, vicious bastard.”
“No.” His mouth worked as if he were chewing on words trying to decide whether or not to say them. “That’s not what I meant. I mean, it’s not human.”
“What?” Julie shook her head again. This just kept getting stranger and stranger. She took a half step toward her bedroom door, a vague plan taking shape in her mind. Run to the police. They were still crawling over the living room. Help was only a few steps or one scream away. Don’t stay here with a man who’s obviously crazy.
But on the other hand, she thought in the next moment, when he kissed her, she’d experienced memories and feelings that weren’t even hers. So really, which one of them was the crazy one?
Kieran’s pale blue eyes locked with hers, willing her to believe. To trust. His voice came low, soft, insistent. “This killer isn’t a man at all. It’s a demon.”
“A demon.”
“That’s right.”
“The Hell kind.”
“Yes.”
“Okay then,” she said nodding. “Question answered. You’re the crazy one.”
5
“I ’m not crazy,” Kieran told her, “but God help me, much more time with you and I may be.”
“Very flattering, thanks,” she said and walked a wide berth around him, headed toward the closet.
“I’m not trying to win your heart, woman,” Kieran said, turning slowly to follow her movements. “I’m trying to keep you alive.”
“Uh-huh.” She grabbed a dark green suitcase, walked with it to the bed, then swung it up onto the mattress. Once it was there, she unzipped it, tipped the lid open and headed for a tall, mahogany chest of drawers. She pulled the first drawer wide, scooped in one hand and came out with a pile of panties and bras.
Kieran didn’t even watch as she tossed them into the waiting suitcase. He didn’t want to know that she wore pink or black or red underwear. He didn’t need any more imagery for his already fevered brain to fixate on. This hunt was not going as it was supposed to. As he stood here in the presence of a woman who threatened his equilibrium, the demon was most likely out selecting its next victim. He should be on its trail even now. And yet, he couldn’t leave Julie Carpenter to fend for herself. She had no idea just how dangerous this killer was. No clue that the world she existed in was only a portion of the story. If he told her about the different dimensions that lay alongside this one, each with its own versions of reality, she would think him more insane than she already did. Not that he gave a damn what she thought of him. It was only that the more dangerous she thought he was, the less chance he would have of protecting her from the demon.
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