Book Read Free

In Destiny’s Shadow

Page 12

by Ingrid Weaver


  Anthony’s energy. His psychic energy.

  “Melina,” he said. His voice was hoarse. “Are you okay?”

  She pressed her face to his hair. She could smell the dust that had showered them when he’d been lying on top of her. Her cheek brushed a chip of rock that was held by a tangle at the back of his neck. This was the second time he had saved her life. “I’m fine, you made sure of that. What about you?”

  “I’m all right.”

  “What do you think happened to the helicopter? It sounded as if they had engine trouble.”

  “It was their fuel pump. It’s electronic.” He paused. He sounded out of breath. “I couldn’t disable it, only disrupted the circuit, but it bought us some time.”

  The helicopter was a faint, sputtering buzz in the distance now. It was definitely going away. Whatever Anthony had done had worked.

  Whatever he had done?

  But that was impossible, right? He had no tools or weapons. He couldn’t have affected anything on that aircraft from here. There must be some other explanation. Maybe the dust the rotor blades had stirred up had been sucked into the engine. Or maybe they had run low on fuel.

  Then why had Anthony told her to wait? He had known something would happen. And what about that wave of…power she had felt?

  When did skepticism cross the line to denial?

  Anthony rolled away, then glanced at the rock overhead. A film of moisture gleamed on his forehead. He clenched his jaw and reached back to catch her hands. “We don’t have much time,” he said, tugging her out from beneath the overhang. “I wasn’t able to short out the radio.”

  She moved on her knees toward him. Short out the radio. Of course. That would have been another option for someone with the psychic power to manipulate energy fields. Had he used up all his strength wrecking the helicopter’s fuel pump? Was that why his hands were cold and his forehead was sweating?

  “Benedict’s going to send reinforcements.” Anthony rocked back on his heels and cupped her elbow. “We have to get to the Jeep and get out of here.”

  She nodded as he helped her to stand. Right. Benedict would be nearby. Less than two miles to the northwest, according to Anthony’s psychic ability. The energy source that he had traced probably powered Benedict’s new stronghold. It would be prudent for her and Anthony to retreat before someone else found them.

  Melina looked at the bullet-scarred rock and started to tremble. She clenched her hands, trying to stop the cascade of thoughts. She couldn’t. They all fit. The truth was right in front of her.

  Anthony hadn’t lied to her. On some level, she had known that all along. That was the source of those gut feelings she’d been having right from the start. That was why she didn’t fear him, and why she had believed all the other things he had told her. His energy, his power, his difference…all of it had been obvious for days. She hadn’t wanted to admit it. Why not?

  Because she liked being able to verify facts. She liked translating everything into black and white. It was the best way to deal with the illogical, irrational, unreasonable feelings that she had managed to avoid for years.

  It was so much safer to love her job than to trust her heart.

  Things were going well, Anthony told himself as he fisted the towel to swipe the haze off the mirror. He flung the towel over the shower curtain rod, clattering the rings. He should be grateful that Melina was handling his revelations as well as she was. It looked as if she had taken his advice and was thinking like a reporter. She was demonstrating the strength and intelligence he had come to admire. Despite the shocks she had been through, she had managed to regain control of herself and her emotions before they had been halfway back to Antelope Ridge. With her hands clenched tightly in her lap and her jaw set, she had looked just like she had on the night they had met.

  He yanked his hair back from his face. The elastic band he used pulled out a dozen wet strands. He clenched his teeth and picked up his can of shaving cream. Yes, Melina had taken the news of his psychic abilities—and their side effects—better than he could have hoped.

  Once she had set aside her initial skepticism, she had turned all business. She completely ignored the sexual pull between them and didn’t refer once to the intimacy they had shared. He was certain she wasn’t as calm inside as she appeared on the surface, yet she hadn’t spoken of anything personal for the rest of the day. Instead, she had stuck to the only issue that mattered to her—her story about Benedict.

  He should be pleased, he reminded himself as he slapped shaving cream on his cheeks. This was what he wanted. This was why they were together in the first place. It could have become a lot more complicated if Melina hadn’t calmed down enough to regard things logically. In fact, she was as focused on her priorities as he was.

  Right. Fine. So he was pleased.

  He picked up his razor and yanked it along his jaw, hard enough to nick his skin. Blood welled up in a neat triangle and dripped down his chin.

  Anthony threw the razor into the sink and met his gaze in the mirror. He wasn’t pleased. He was annoyed as hell. He knew he shouldn’t be, and that only made it worse.

  Now, more than ever, he felt cheated. He still wanted her. How could he make civilized conversation when he’d felt her climax in his arms? How could he look at her speak when he remembered the taste of her mouth and wanted to kiss her until their passion stirred again?

  But that wasn’t what he was here for, what either of them was here for. He’d had his chance. He’d let it pass. He should be preparing for the next step. His own desires were immaterial. He was too close to success to risk letting anything interfere with what he had to do.

  Anthony blotted his chin, finished shaving and put on his work clothes. He gathered the equipment he would need for the night ahead and stored it in a backpack, then went to look for Melina.

  She was alone on the patio behind the guest dining room. She stood near the wrought-iron fence, her back to the doors, her face lifted to the setting sun and her hair streaming over her shoulders like molten bronze. Anthony paused with his hand on the knob of the terrace door to look at her, and he was jolted by a wave of longing so strong it stole his breath.

  It was the connection, that was all. Now that it had been opened, it was damn hard to close. It was impossible to pretend it wasn’t there.

  But he wasn’t going to let it stop him again.

  The breeze was turning cool. Shadows were creeping over the patio. Melina curled her fingers around the fence and pressed the phone to her ear. If she gave herself more time, she would probably be able to come up with a gentler way to do this, but she had waited long enough. This had to be done. It should have been done sooner. “My answer is no, Neil.”

  “You don’t sound like yourself, Melina. Are you sure you’re all right?”

  No, she wasn’t all right. She probably wouldn’t feel the same again. Her whole view of reality was undergoing a fundamental shift. The paranormal was real. Psychic powers were possible. Her rational beliefs of a lifetime had been blown apart.

  What else had she been wrong about?

  Now, more than ever, she needed to regain control somehow. “Please, don’t change the subject. I’m trying to do the decent thing here.”

  The phone crackled. “If I’ve been pressuring you, I’m sorry. If you need more time to think—”

  “I’ve already taken more time than I should have, Neil. It wasn’t fair to keep you on hold for so long.”

  “I wasn’t going anywhere.”

  Neither were we, she thought. She closed her eyes and pinched the bridge of her nose, trying to stem the tears. She didn’t know why she felt like crying. She had been wrong to consider Neil’s proposal. She had never been emotionally committed to him. For eight years she hadn’t committed herself to anyone. She hadn’t allowed herself to get close enough to anyone to release her passion.

  Not willingly, anyway.

  It was the storm. The energy in the lightning. That’s what you felt.
It was out of your control.

  “I’m sorry, Neil,” she said. “You were partly right, you know. I have been using this story as an excuse to keep traveling.”

  “What happened, Melina?”

  That wasn’t a simple question to answer. She was still trying to sort through it all herself. “I had to straighten out my priorities, decide what I really wanted.”

  “And did you?”

  “Yes. That’s why my answer is no.”

  “Melina…”

  “Neil, I respect you as my editor, and we get along well as friends. Let’s not lose that, okay?”

  A burst of static drowned out his reply.

  Melina moved a few feet to her left, trying to find better reception. She had come outside because of the static in her room. Now it was starting up here. “Neil?”

  “I feel as if I should be getting angry or something, but I’m not,” he said. “I must be getting used to you turning me down.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “Is it really no this time?” His voice tangled with more static.

  She wiped her cheek. “It’s really no.”

  “Okay.”

  Her chin trembled, whether from a laugh or a sob she didn’t know. His calm acceptance of her rejection was exactly in character. It was why she liked him. It was why this was the right thing to do.

  He didn’t love her. He had never claimed to. His proposal had grown out of their friendship, and his realization that he had reached middle age and had been so focused on his career that he had neglected to have a family.

  He was a nice man, a good man. Now that she had set him free, he was bound to find someone else.

  There was a series of loud crackles.

  She put her finger over her ear. “Neil? I can hardly hear you.”

  “Does this…finished with…Titan story?”

  “Titan? Not yet. I’m too close to—” She paused. “Neil?”

  A loud hiss came through the receiver. A second later the signal went dead. She looked at her phone. The battery indicator wasn’t low. Why would it cut out that way? The back of her neck prickled. She turned around.

  Anthony was standing beside the patio doors, his arms crossed, his legs braced apart. He was dressed in a body-hugging black turtleneck and black pants that made him look wickedly dangerous. His hair was damp and slicked tight to his head, accentuating the lean angles of his face. The skin on his jaw gleamed from a fresh shave. His green gaze was so vivid, she could feel it touch her across the distance between them.

  Awareness tingled down her spine, quick and carnal. Her breasts tightened, her lips parted. She swayed, her phone slipping from her fingers.

  The noise of the phone hitting the brick patio snapped her out of the haze before it could deepen. Wait. That awareness. Had it been enhanced? Had it been a side effect of Anthony’s power? She grabbed the fence behind her for support and looked from her phone to Anthony. She thought of the static. The dropped signal. Cell phones used electromagnetic waves. “Did you do that?” she demanded.

  He uncrossed his arms and walked toward her. A black backpack dangled by one strap from his hand. He hitched the strap over his shoulder, then picked up her phone, checked to see if it still worked and switched it off. “Do what?”

  “You cut off my phone.”

  “Yes.”

  She caught a whiff of his soap. She thought of the way his neck smelled, and her pulse tripped. She told herself to ignore it. This was probably due to some stray energy. “Why? You have no right—”

  “I told you already, Melina. I’ll do whatever is necessary to make sure you’re safe.” He turned, giving the area around the patio a thorough survey. There was a small nick on his jaw where he had likely cut himself shaving. “You can’t let anyone know we’re close to Benedict.”

  “I was talking to my editor.”

  “I figured that. Your conversation looked intense. Are you okay?”

  “I’m always intense about my work.”

  He held out her phone. “You can’t tell him anything.”

  She took her phone and slid it into her jacket pocket. “I wasn’t planning to. Not until I finish my story and call in the FBI. What’s in your pack?”

  “Just some supplies.”

  “You’re going back to that valley to look for Benedict’s stronghold, aren’t you?”

  He hesitated for a beat. “Yes.”

  “Not without me.”

  “Melina, it could be dangerous. Benedict’s people spotted us this morning and are going to be on the alert.”

  “It’s even more dangerous for you. You told me Benedict’s after your entire family because of your powers. If he discovered you’re nearby, you would be handing yourself to him on a platter.”

  “If he learned who I am, the worst he would do is capture me. He would kill you.”

  “Don’t ask me to stay behind, Anthony. Especially not now. I need my work.” Now that she had broken up with Neil, she thought, it was all she had left.

  “I’ll take the Jeep as close as I can, but I’ll be hiking the rest of the way on foot. It’s going to be rough.”

  “If you try to leave without me, I’ll rent a truck and follow you, anyway. You know I will.”

  “Yes, I figured that, too. You haven’t taken my advice yet.”

  I warned you. Remember that…. Melina pressed her lips together. There was no chance of her forgetting.

  He tilted his head, continuing to watch her, then lifted his hand to her face. He rubbed her cheek with his knuckle. “Why were you crying, Melina?”

  The change of topic took her off guard. She had hoped he hadn’t noticed, but she should have known nothing would get by him. “The breeze is cold.”

  He dried her other cheek and smoothed her hair behind her ear. “Did your editor say something to upset you?”

  It was hard to keep her mind on the conversation when all she wanted to do was lean into his touch. She wanted to soothe her fingers over that nick in his jaw. He had gentle hands for a large man. Wonderful hands and clever fingers that had worked such magic.

  No. It had been a reaction to the lightning, she reminded herself. Anthony had made that perfectly clear. “It was the other way around. He’s the one who should have been upset.”

  “Why?”

  “I turned down his marriage proposal.”

  Anthony caught her chin. “He asked you to marry him? When?”

  “Months ago. Considering everything that’s happened, I owed him an answer.”

  He stared at her, an odd, almost eager expression on his face. “Did you turn him down because of me, Melina?”

  What could she say? That she couldn’t contemplate the prospect of letting anyone else touch her after what she had experienced with Anthony? Should she tell him that those few hours from the night before had probably ruined her for any kind of intimacy with an ordinary man? His hand on her chin was sending tingles through her body. Just the scent of his soap made her knees weak.

  Or should she tell him the rest of the truth? That she was scared, confused, and more determined than ever to keep her feelings under control.

  She tipped her head away from his hand. “I had already made my decision before we got caught in the storm.”

  He grasped the top of the fence, beside her waist. “I remember now. That must have been what you were thinking about in the Jeep when you talked about your heart’s desire.”

  “That’s right. I realized then that it’s my work that I love. I don’t want to marry anyone.”

  “Did you love him?”

  She started to ease to the side. “I liked him as a friend.”

  He put his other hand on the fence, pinning her between his arms. “Then why did you take months to say no?”

  Why? Because she had been deluding herself. She had thought that after eight years she might have healed enough to take another risk, and it was safe to take a chance with Neil because he didn’t have her heart.

  “Are
you sure this has nothing to do with our connection?”

  With Anthony’s arms on either side of her, she felt enveloped by his strength. Protected. But not safe. No, this man was anything but safe. Tears threatened again. “Why should it? You explained that what happened between us was only a physiological side effect of your talent.”

  “Yes, that’s what I said.”

  “You told me I wasn’t responsible. You said it was out of my control.”

  His leg nudged hers. “Right.”

  She counted to ten as she tried not to sway into him. “It must be inconvenient.”

  “What?”

  “Triggering a reaction like that with any woman who’s nearby whenever you use your talent.”

  “It doesn’t happen every time. And it doesn’t happen with every woman.”

  She looked at his mouth. Her lips tingled. “No?”

  “No, Melina.” His knee brushed her thigh. “And it has never been as strong as what happened last night.”

  “Why…” She had to clear her throat. “Why do you think that is?”

  “I don’t know.” He lowered his head, stopping with his mouth a breath from hers. “I wish we had the time to figure it out.”

  Was he going to kiss her? Did she want him to? No! Yes! Damn, she didn’t know what she felt. Was this real?

  And did she want it to be?

  He pushed away from the fence and stepped back. “But we don’t have time, Melina. I plan to be back at that canyon before moonrise. If you want to come with me, you have twenty minutes to get ready.”

  The conference room in Benedict’s headquarters was modeled on the one he had studied years ago at his sister’s complex in Oregon. The walls were bare steel that was riveted to layers of concrete and lead sheeting to guard against electronic eavesdropping. The lighting was dim, save for the pools of illumination over each chair that flanked the oval table. The only way in or out was through a private elevator that was keyed by Benedict’s thumbprint.

  Agnes had been a conceited bitch, but she had understood about power. Yes, she knew how lighting could be used to dramatic effect, and she realized how the echo from the steel walls would lend extra impact to her words. She was smart, no question about that, but not smart enough to stay alive. The law had caught up with her.

 

‹ Prev