For Her Eyes Only

by Cait London

  Poor Alex. He never should have tripped over that carpenter’s plastic. The newest faked injury was just another stress on Leona, a little nudge to weaken the cracks in her psychic gifts. Before Janice, she’d only revealed that deeply hidden nurturing streak with Sue Ann and with Alex.

  Alex’s faked injury would be a physical drain on Leona, a weakness to siphon Leona’s energies and make her more vulnerable. There were always pinpoints, weaknesses in all the people Rolf chose, even Leona’s sisters.

  By water, they’d been more susceptible, and by using fog as an extension, he’d been able to reach them easily. But Neil Olafson and Marcus Greystone had bonded with the sisters and he couldn’t get to them as easily.

  Rolf crushed the scarf in his fist, then twisted it with his other hand. Now only Leona was left unprotected.

  Weaken one, weaken them all. Then humiliate and destroy Greer, and take the brooch that would give him everything, power and revenge.

  He wrapped the scarf around his fists and drew it tight; it would make a perfect garrote. The colors suited Leona, but her choices had probably been based on her heritage, an affinity for the earth’s green and the water’s power. According to the information Rolf had inherited from his ancestors, Aisling descendants with their red hair and green eyes usually had that water affinity and were usually stronger by the water.

  But the triplets’ sailing accident had linked them with the water and each other in a different way. Water, large bodies, and now fog, weakened their psychic protections. Rolf’s father had passed down many interesting facts about the Aisling-Bartel triplets, derived from his time with Stella Mornay.

  Rolf had been infuriated when Shaw had stopped Leona from looking over that cliff. He’d been furious when their bodies moved in sensual harmony. Shaw and Leona had stood in that powerful triangle of the pond, the stream, and the Kentucky River—and Shaw had protected Leona at her weakest. After five years, Leona had finally taken a lover, and no ordinary one, either. Through contact with Janice, Rolf had caught traces of an unidentifiable ancient psychic power.

  Before Leona bonded with Janice’s brother, Shaw had to be removed from the equation.

  Rolf could not fail, not after studying the Aislings for so many years. Not after all the practice on others and his success. Not after Greer had made such a fool of him. He turned to the mirror and spoke to his reflection. “Damn Shaw. I’ve gotten a strong link with Leona’s energy. Without Shaw’s interference, I’d have had her bouncing down that rocky cliff and into that water. It wouldn’t have been a hands-on death, but it would have served. Shaw is more powerful than Janice. I’ve known that all along, but I needed him to transport Janice to Lexington. Now I’ll have to take him out of the picture. I made the mistake of letting Leona’s sisters’ lovers live…Shaw won’t.”

  Rolf preened just a little in the privacy of his underground workshop. He admired his undisguised lean, angular face, his compelling eyes and crooned, using the same tone he’d used to mesmerize those with weaker minds, including Janice’s. Once his psychic tentacles captured a vulnerable person, he could make them do anything. “Leona…Leona…you are mine.”

  His fury almost rebounded, burning him, as he thought of Greer Aisling.

  Greer had caused his peers to laugh at him, as if he were nothing—he, Rolf Erling, Borg’s descendant, in a line as old and strong as hers.

  Greer really shouldn’t have done that.

  “Janice?”

  In his hurry to ready Janice for the next morning’s flight, Owen had left his laptop case on his bed. Now his laptop was missing.

  He’d tossed his key ring onto the dresser, and it was gone, too. In its place was the wolf’s-head brooch Leona had given Janice. Owen grabbed it. Panic raced through him, and he called Janice again. But the house remained quiet.

  Earlier, Robyn hadn’t left easily. She’d alternately pleaded, then argued furiously. “Janice will be alone, without me, without her medications. You can’t just take her into an environment where she doesn’t know anyone, doesn’t have me! Don’t you love your sister?”

  Owen had explained to Robyn that he had talked with Greer Aisling and believed that Janice would be well treated.

  In the end, Robyn had grabbed his shirt and pleaded, “Don’t do this to your sister. Don’t do this to me. You don’t know what you’re doing, Owen. Take me with you.”

  Her desperation and fear had startled him. Owen suspected she feared losing her income and assured Robyn that she’d be kept on retainer. He wanted her to consider the time away as a little vacation.

  “I don’t need a vacation, you fool!” Robyn had screamed. “I need to be with Janice.”

  “We’ll talk when I get back,” he’d stated firmly. In the end, Robyn had asked to say a private good-bye. She wanted to reassure Janice that they’d see each other again. When she returned to Owen, Robyn was set to argue again. He’d been forced to leave Janice momentarily alone and usher Robyn to her small, economy car.

  Her last words had burned him, “Oh, I hate you for this. You’ve killed me.”

  Owen had no time to deal with Robyn’s sudden, dramatic change; he’d hurried back into the house to pack. Now Janice was missing.

  Fearing his sister had returned to the pond, Owen hurried out into the evening. The sunset sent a scarlet ribbon trailing across the top of the hills.

  Moon Shadow stood at the fence near the barn, staring at it as he always did when Janice was inside.

  “Good boy,” Owen murmured as he ran toward the barn.

  When he found the barn unlocked, Owen’s heart raced. How could he have been so careless as to leave his keys where Janice could find them? As he searched the shadows, he eased around the sawhorses and standing saw that the carpenter had been using.

  Janice stood in a far corner. As he walked slowly toward her, Owen didn’t like the dull gleam in her hand. As he came closer, the handgun aimed at his heart. The revolver had been a gift from his father, one of the few family treasures he’d been able to keep. How could she have found the handgun? He’d carefully pried open a weathered board in the loft and laid its case inside; he’d even covered the board with a bale of hay. The barn had been locked, the carpenter instructed carefully on safety issues. “Hi, Janice,” Owen said lightly, as the revolver raised and pointed at him.

  Her expression was blank, just as it had been when she’d tried to drown herself.

  “You won’t let me talk to him.”

  “Who, Janice?”

  “You know who. I miss him. And you kept me from talking to him.” Her speech pattern was robotic, stripped of emotion, the pace almost mechanical. She’d sounded that way after her computer sessions.

  “You mean someone you know through the computer? The man you drew?”

  “Yes. You’re evil, Owen. And you have to die. I found the cartridges. The gun is loaded.”

  He edged closer. He’d deliberately hidden the cartridges in a location separate from the handgun. How could she possibly have found both the revolver and the cartridges? He had to distract Janice for just one instant, then he’d have the gun….

  “Where’s my laptop, Janice?”

  “I threw it in the pond. If I can’t have it, you can’t either.”

  “That’s fair,” Owen soothed. As Janice’s thumb drew back the hammer, the deadly clicks echoed in the shadows. “Let me have the gun, Janice.”

  “You hid Dad’s gun from me. It’s mine, too. I don’t like how you keep things from me. You don’t love me anymore. You had sex with Leona. Now you’re hers, not mine anymore. I’m alone, and I don’t want to leave here. I want to stay here, with him. But you want her here, not me. You’re planning to put me away again. That’s why we’re leaving in the morning. But we’re not. I’m going to stay here forever.”

  Owen fought his fear, trying to focus on moving closer and disarming Janice.

  “Stay where you are,” Janice ordered quietly.

  “You forgot something.” Owen held o
ut the brooch. If Janice took it, the distraction might be enough for him to act. “Leona gave it to you this morning, remember? It’s her good-luck piece, and she gave it to you.”

  “It’s evil. I won’t wear it. It’s a part of her, and she’s evil, too. She lied. She said she’d come back tonight, and she didn’t. She broke her promise.”

  Owen didn’t turn when the barn door creaked slightly. Light, feminine footsteps sounded, now. Bits of straw snapped and Owen’s hunter senses detected she was coming straight to him. As a cool fresh scent curled around him, Owen quietly ordered, “Leona, get out of here.”

  Even as he spoke, Owen knew Leona wouldn’t back away in fear. Her footsteps came closer, until she stood at his side. Her hand opened on his back. A steady, warm, reasurring pulse flowed from her.

  “Hello, Janice,” Leona murmured quietly. “I said I’d come back to cut your hair. I brought my hair-cutting shears and some new traveling clothes for you. My mother will take you shopping on the coast. They have lovely stores there, and she’ll know how to help you. She’ll protect you better than I can.”

  Janice’s eyes flickered toward Leona, and the revolver moved slightly, aimed at her. “You promised. I waited and you didn’t come.”

  “One of my friends had an accident. I took dinner to him and saw that he was comfortable. I came as soon as I could. The new clothes I brought are from my shop. Didn’t you like the brooch I gave you?”

  Owen suddenly remembered the brooch now clenched in his fist. He’d been gripping it and had to force his fingers to open. He had to draw Janice’s aim from Leona. He held the brooch out to Janice. “Trade you.”

  Trade you. It had been a game they’d often played, a bargaining game to get Janice to respond in the worst of times. Janice’s eyes flickered to the brooch. “It has a wolf on it…a wolf is a hunter…like your name, Owen.”

  At his side, Leona inhaled suddenly, her fingers gripping his shirt. “Like Owen? What do you mean, Janice?”

  “His name is Wolf…Owen Wolf Shaw. It comes from the old ones. He wants to forget those things the old ones told around the campfires, but he can’t. Neither can I.”

  Within the shadows, Owen sensed Leona’s pulse as if it were his own—frantic, panicked, uncertain. She moved just a few inches closer to Janice. Leona took the brooch from Owen, looking into his eyes as if seeing him as another person. Her tone was a little breathless, but soothing. “Yes, of course. I should have known by his light eyes. Wolf is a good name for a man, isn’t it?”

  Owen frowned slightly. Why should Leona have known?

  When Leona moved slightly in front of him, Owen realized that she was protecting him. He reached for the waistband of her slacks and held tight. If he had to, he would push Leona aside and take that slug himself.

  Since Leona had begun talking, Janice’s eyes changed slightly. Her hollow look shifted more into lifelike. Still, the revolver’s hammer remained cocked and dangerous. Owen had to protect Leona. “Let me have the gun, Janice. You can have the brooch. You want it, don’t you? Trade you.”

  One wrong move, and that hammer would set a deadly slug spiraling through that barrel….

  “My brother is sending me away, so he can have you.” Janice’s monotone had wavered and slid into uncertainty.

  Leona took the brooch from Owen, her eyes meeting his. We can do this. Don’t frighten her.

  When he nodded slightly, Leona looked at Janice, her voice smooth and flowing. “He’s taking you to my mother’s home by the ocean. She’s waiting to meet you, and you’ll love it there. Just for a time, and then you can come back. I grew up there.”

  “With your sisters…you’re one of triplets.” Janice spoke as if trying to grasp a thread she remembered from another time.

  Leona smoothly supplied an anchor for Janice to grasp. “Yes. We were born three minutes apart, and I’m the oldest. There’s Tempest and Claire. They both just got married this year.”

  “And they’re both going to have babies. Not soon, but sometime. And you’re terribly afraid for them.” Fear suddenly leaped in Janice’s eyes, and the slender hands holding the gun trembled. “Owen, I don’t know what to do with this. Help me. I can’t let go.”

  Owen moved quickly to his sister’s side. Placing his hands over hers, he turned the revolver from Leona. “Let me do it, Janice.”

  He slowly released the cocked hammer and eased the revolver from Janice’s hands.

  “There now,” Leona soothed as she pinned the brooch on Janice’s blouse. Leona’s eyes held Janice’s as she touched and smoothed the girl’s hair, face, and arms. Owen held his breath as Leona smiled and spoke softly of Janice’s new haircut and of Janice’s upcoming visit to Greer Aisling, of how it was only for a short time. “You’ll have to ask my mother, but she has a very special computer. It’s been…adjusted. She might let you use it, too. You’ll feel very—calm and very strong when you’re with her. She’ll never leave you alone, and she’ll know how to help you.”

  “Like you. That’s how you make me feel—calm and strong. You’ll take care of my horses when I’m gone, won’t you?”

  “I will see them every day. I promise. And I’ll tell you how they are.”

  “And Owen, too? You’ll care for him?”

  Leona hesitated just that fraction of a heartbeat. “Yes, him, too. You’ll do what my mother says, won’t you?”

  Janice nodded. “I’ll see the real brooch, won’t I? The one with the old writing on it? And you’ll wear this one?”

  Puzzled by Janice’s phrase, “old writing,” Owen glanced at Leona. What “old writing?” What did his sister mean? Apparently, the phrase meant something to Leona because for a moment, she looked stunned. Then she said smoothly, “I will. But I want you to wear it on your trip and think of me. My sister, Tempest, is making one for you now, so you’ll be our sister.”

  “She is?” Janice’s childlike excitement caused Owen to relax slightly.

  “Tempest is an artist, like you. You’ll like her. Let’s go back to the house now, shall we? I can help you with your hair. I want to see what you’ve packed.” Leona continued speaking in that same calm tone. She glanced warily at Owen, and he thought of the two-way connection. He’d said nothing to Janice about the Aisling triplets’ births. He hadn’t even known there was a genuine brooch. Yet Janice seemed to know everything. While Leona could obviously communicate and calm Janice, his sister was obviously picking up tidbits from Leona.

  “Your mother knows the man I drew, doesn’t she?”

  Janice’s question obviously startled Leona. She glanced at Owen again before answering curtly. “In a way—she knows him.”

  Every muscle in Owen’s body tensed. Greer Aisling knew that bastard? How?

  Instantly, Leona looked at Owen again, her slight frown warning him. Not now.

  She’d understood his emotions and thoughts instantly. She’d just warned him against disturbing the link she’d made with Janice. Then Leona turned slowly to look at Janice as though willing the girl to understand. “You remember how I said that you are mine now, Janice? You’re not that man’s any longer. You belong to my family, like a sister.”

  When Janice smiled timidly, Owen let out a shuddered breath, a release of tension in the aftermath of his terror. If Greer Aisling was anything like Leona, he had no reservations about taking his sister to her.

  Familiar with the revolver’s wooden grip, Owen wrapped his hand around it. He expertly removed the six deadly cartridges from the cylinder. They gleamed in his hand, and he remembered how Janice had looked—one wrong move, and he could have been killed. His death would have also resulted in his sister’s, one way or another.

  Or Leona could have died. The thought terrified him. Ignoring his attempts to keep her out of the line of fire, she’d deliberately used her body as a shield for his. Now that was real irritating. A man liked to know his woman listened to him.

  The lady wasn’t afraid of much. But maybe she should be.

  Sh
aken by Janice’s latest episode, Owen was relieved to see how his sister continued responding to Leona. Janice seemed like she was back to normal. She was delighted with the short haircut that Leona gave her, which Leona described as almost like Tempest’s. Now, with Janice settled in for the night, Leona sat with Owen on the front porch steps. The early September night was soft and fragrant around them, scented of the approaching fall.

  “I shouldn’t have left my laptop or my keys where she could get them,” Owen said. “I was trying to get ahead of a stock split and some investments at the last minute. I didn’t think she’d go into my room.” He looked at her. “Thank you for helping my sister.”

  Owen was still amazed at how gentle and normal Janice had seemed with Leona. But now it was close to eleven o’clock and after two hours of soothing Janice, Leona appeared drained.

  “Owen, make certain that she doesn’t take any of her usual jewelry or clothing with her. She’s got to be ‘clean’ of any of this guy’s creepy residue. On the other hand, her braids were a part of her. It’s important that they are not left where anyone can get them. If you still have them, they should go with her. She’ll be safe. Just keep her from any electronics on the way. If someone lights up a laptop or anything that transmits, get her to focus on that brooch. Don’t leave her alone for a minute.”

  “It’s going to be hard to watch her in the ladies’ room.”

  His grumble sounded so male and disgusted that Leona couldn’t help smiling. “You’ll manage.” Glancing at her watch, she said, “I have to go check on my friend yet tonight.”

  “Alex.” Owen’s tone bit into the night air, sharper than he would have liked.

  “Yes. I’m worried about him. He’s a retired widower and not used to taking care of himself quite yet. Today he fell and got bruised quite badly. I just want to check to see if he’s better. I thought he should go to the emergency room, but he wouldn’t. If you need me, call my cell phone.” Leona looped her arms around her knees and rested her forehead on them.