by L. J. Smith
What a wonderful place. The trees cut off the lights
of the house, and not even U2 could penetrate this far. She felt quite alone.
She sat on a concrete curb with her sketch pad on her knees.
Although the moonlight was beautiful, the coolest kind of light imaginable, there wasn't really enough of it to draw properly. Oh, well, Kaitlyn thought, Joyce wants me to learn how to draw blind. With loose, fluid motions, she sketched in the shapes of some redwoods across the streambed. It was interesting to get only the shape and no detail.
What a peaceful place. She added a bush.
She was feeling much better already. She added a dark, sinuous line for the stream.
A night like this made you believe in magic. She started to add a few rocks-and then she heard a sound.
A thump. Like, Kaitlyn thought, freezing, someone falling out of a tree.
Or jumping.
Strange, how she knew right away it was human. Not an animal sound, and certainly nothing natural.
Someone was out here with her.
She looked around, moving only her head, keeping her body still. She had good eyes, artist's eyes, and when she'd walked down here she'd noticed the shape of the trees and bushes. She ought to be able to spot anything different.
But she couldn't. She couldn't see anything new, and she couldn't hear anything, either. Whoever was out there wasn't speaking.
That made it not funny. Not a joke. When somebody hides at night and doesn't let you know who they are-when you can feel eyes on you, but you don't know whose-that wasn't funny. Kaitlyn's hands felt cold and her throat felt very tight.
Just get up. Leave. Now, she thought.
She managed two steps up the hill and saw movement among the trees. It was a person, moving out from the cover of the redwoods.
Kaitlyn's body prepared to fight or flee-but not until she saw who it was. She had to see the face before she could be released from paralysis.
The person came closer, feet crunching on dead leaves. Moonlight shone on his face, on slanting eyes and softly curling brown hair. It was the man who'd grabbed her in the airport.
He was wearing regular clothes now, not the red robe he'd worn before. And he was coming straight at her, very quickly.
CHAPTER 7
Fight, Kait decided. Or rather, her body decided it for her, seeming to feel instinctively that she'd never make it up that hill.
Her sketchbook was spiral-bound with heavy wire, and one end was slightly uncoiled-it had been poking her for weeks. Now she dropped the charcoal sticks and brought the book up, poised for attack.
Aim for the eyes, she thought.
She knew she should be screaming, but her throat was too constricted.
All this passed through her mind in the few seconds it took the stranger to reach her. Kaitlyn hadn't been in a fight since elementary school, but now her body seemed to know what to do. The stranger grabbed for her arm-Kaitlyn jerked it away.
Now, she thought, and lashed out with the sketchbook. And it worked-the heavy wire caught him in the cheek, tearing a long bloody scratch.
Fierce triumph surged up in Kait. But the next
instant the stranger had her wrist and was twisting it, trying to make her let go of the sketch pad. It hurt, and the pain freed her voice.
"Let go of me," she gasped. "Let go!"
He twisted harder. Blood was running down his cheek, black in the moonlight. Kaitlyn tried to kick, but he turned his body and her kicks glanced off harmlessly. He had both her arms now. He was pushing her down onto the sloping ground of the hill. He was winning.
Scream, her mind told her.
Kaitlyn sucked in a deep breath and screamed. But it was cut off almost before it started, by the stranger's hand.
"Shut up!" he said, in a furious whisper.
Kaitlyn stared up at him over his smothering hand, knowing her eyes were wide with fear. He was so strong, and so much heavier than she was-she couldn't move at all.
"You're so reckless-you never think, "the stranger hissed. The moon was behind him, so his face was in shadow-but she could feel his anger.
He's going to kill me. And I'll never even know why, a small, clear part of her mind said. The rest of her was engulfed in sheer black terror as his hand stayed over her mouth. It was getting very hard to breathe.. ..
Something reared up behind the stranger.
Kaitlyn's dazed mind couldn't tell at first what it was. Just a shape silhouetted against the moonlit sky.
Then she saw it was a human shape, with something shining in its hand.
There was a movement quicker than Kait's eyes could follow, and the stranger on top of her was jerked backward slightly. The moonlight reflected off a knife blade.
"Let go of her," a clipped, harsh voice said, "or I'll cut your throat."
Gabriel? Kaitlyn thought in disbelief. But it was true, and now her panicked senses could interpret the scene in front of her. Gabriel was holding the stranger at knifepoint.
The stranger's hands lifted away from Kaitlyn. She drew in a gasping, wheezing breath.
"Now get up," Gabriel said. "Nice and easy. I'm in a bad mood tonight."
The stranger rose in one slow, coordinated motion, like a dancer. The knife stayed at his throat the whole time.
As soon as his weight was removed, Kaitlyn got her feet under her and took two scrambling steps up the hill. Adrenaline was still flooding over her in painful, useless waves. Her hands were shaking.
I should help Gabriel, she thought. No matter how tough he is, he's a kid, and that stranger's a man. A strong man.
"Want me to go back to the house and tell them?" she gasped, trying to make herself sound hard and competent.
"Why?" Gabriel said briefly. He made some movement and the stranger went spinning, landing on his back on the ground.
"Now get out," he said, looking down at the supine figure. "And don't come back unless you're tired of living. If I see you around again, I'll forget I just did two years for murder."
A shock went through Kait. But she didn't have time to think-Gabriel was speaking again.
"I said, get out. Run. Show me a four-minute mile."
The stranger got up, not nearly as smoothly and gracefully as before. From what Kait could see of his expression, he was both furious and frightened.
"You're both so stupid-" he began.
"Run," Gabriel suggested, holding the knife as if ready to throw it.
The stranger turned and went, half running, half angrily stalking.
When the crunch of his footsteps had died, Kaitlyn looked at Gabriel, who was folding up the knife and putting it in his back pocket all in one practiced gesture.
Murder, she thought. He was in jail for murder.
What she said, rather unsteadily, was, "Thank you."
He glanced up at her briefly, and she could swear he was amused, as if he knew the difference between her thoughts and her words. "Who was he? An old boyfriend?" he asked.
"Don't be ridiculous," Kait snapped, and then wished she hadn't. One ought to be more polite to a murderer, especially when one was alone with him in the dark. "I don't know who he is," she added. "But he was at the airport when I came yesterday. He must have followed Joyce and me home."
Gabriel looked at her skeptically, then shrugged. "I don't think he'll come back." He started toward the house without turning to see if Kait was following.
Kaitlyn picked up her sketchbook and went after him.
"What happened?" Rob said, vaulting to his feet. He and Lewis and Anna were in the study-as was Joyce. Kaitlyn had looked for her on the first floor, then come up here.
Rob was staring from Kaitlyn, who was just realizing that she had bits of dead leaves and grass in her hair, to Gabriel, who was behind her. "What happened?" he repeated, in a more controlled but more frightening voice.
"What does it look like?" Gabriel taunted, at his very nastiest.
Rob started toward him, golden eyes blazin
g.
'Wo, "Kaitlyn said. "Rob, don't. He didn't hurt me; he saved me."
She felt a surge of dizzy excitement-Rob was angry for her, protective. But she couldn't let him fight Gabriel.
"He saved you?" Rob said, with open scorn. He was on one side of the doorway, staring at Gabriel as if trying to bore holes in him. Gabriel was on the other side, almost lounging against the wall and looking devastatingly handsome. Kait was caught in between them.
She appealed to Joyce, who was rising from the study couch.
"It was that guy, the guy from the airport," she said. "He was out back." She explained what had happened, watching the alarm grow on Joyce's face.
"Jeez, we'd better call the police," Lewis said when she was done. He sounded more impressed than scared.
"He's right," Anna said, her dark eyes sober.
"Oh, sure, call them," Gabriel sneered. "I only just got paroled. They love to see people like me with switchblades."
Joyce grimaced. She squeezed her eyes shut and did some stretching exercises with her shoulders.
Kaitlyn's heart sank. Gabriel would be in trouble- he might even get sent back to jail. His part of the experiment would be ruined, and he might never learn to control his powers. All because he'd helped her.
Rob was suddenly looking quite cheerful. "Well, we've got to report it."
"Fine. Just give me ten minutes' start," Gabriel said through his teeth.
"Stop it, both of you," Kaitlyn said. Then she sighed. Being in love wasn't easy. She didn't want to make Rob unhappy, but she had no choice.
"I have an idea," she said hesitantly. "We could call the police, but not tell them Gabriel was involved. I'll just say I got away from the guy out there. Then nobody would get in trouble, but the police could do whatever they need to."
Rob's smile faded. Gabriel was still glaring. But Joyce opened her aquamarine eyes and beamed.
"Trust you, Kait," she said. "Now, where's a phone?"
Gabriel didn't stay to hear the call.
He went into his room and shut the door behind him. And then, tired but too restless to even sit down, he began to pace.
Images kept floating through his mind. Kaitlyn lying in the moonlight-with some maniac on top of her.
What if he hadn't come along just then?
The maniac had been right about one thing-she was reckless. She shouldn't be allowed out alone at night.
She didn't have the right instincts for danger, she wasn't tough enough to protect herself....
So ... what? his mind asked. So you're going to protect her?
Gabriel flashed one of his best disturbing smiles at nothing. Hardly.
He was going to keep away from her, was what he was going to do. She was a nuisance-and she was stuck on Kessler. Gabriel could see that, even if Kessler was too stupid.
Keep away from her. Yes. And he'd bet-he smiled again-that after what she'd seen tonight, she'd keep away from him.
Two hours later Kait was lying in bed, trying to calm down enough to go to sleep.
There had been a lot of fuss with the police, who'd gone down into the backyard but had found nothing.
They'd promised to have a cruiser patrol the area, and Joyce had told the kids to check the door locks and keep a dose lookout for strangers from now on.
"And I don't want you going anywhere alone," she told Kait firmly. "Especially at night." Kait was happy to agree.
But now she couldn't sleep. It had all been too weird, too disturbing. Why would some cult guy from the airport follow her home? Was he some cult guy? If not, why had he been wearing the robes? A disguise?
A stupid one.
What did he want?
And beneath all her other thoughts ran a continuous whispering thread....
Gabriel was a murderer.
The others didn't know. Except Rob-Kaitlyn felt sure Rob knew. But even not knowing, they'd treated him pretty badly tonight. No one had said anything complimentary about him saving Kait. Lewis and Anna had kept their distance, as if they expected him to pull a switchblade on them at any minute, and Rob had watched him with steady, smoldering fury.
Rob-she wouldn't think about Rob now. She couldn't take the agitation.
Anna was breathing peacefully on the other side of the bedroom. Kaitlyn glanced at her, a motionless shape in the darkness, then very carefully and quietly got out of bed.
She shouldered into her robe and slipped noiselessly out the door.
The study was dim. Kait sat on the window seat in the alcove, her chin on her knees. Outside, a few lights shone through waving tree branches. Then she noticed that light was also shining through the curtains in Gabriel's room.
What she did then was born of sheer impulse. If she'd thought about it, she never would have gone through with it. But she didn't give herself time to think.
She jumped off the window seat and went to knock on his door.
A very quiet knocking, in case he was asleep with the light on. But after only an instant the door opened.
He was wearing a rather sleepy scowl.
"What?" he said ungallantly.
"Come into the study," Kaitlyn whispered.
The scowl disappeared, changing into a dazzling bared-teeth smile. "No, you come in here."
He was daring her, Kaitlyn realized. All right; great. She'd prove she trusted him.
Head very high, back straight, she swept by him. She sat down on the desk chair. She glanced around unobtrusively-the room was as nice as Lewis had said. Huge bed, matching furniture, acres of space. It seemed bare of personal possessions, though. Maybe Gabriel didn't have any.
Slowly, watching her, Gabriel sat down on the bed. He'd left the door a little ajar. Kaitlyn, motivated by she didn't know what, got up and closed it.
"You're crazy, you know," Gabriel said unemotionally, as she resumed her seat.
"I wanted to say thank you," Kaitlyn said. And that I'm not afraid of you, she added silently. She still couldn't figure out what she felt about Gabriel-even whether she liked him or hated him.
But he had saved her from a very bad situation.
Gabriel didn't look gratified by the thanks. "And that's all?" he said mockingly.
"Of course."
"You're not just a little curious?" When Kaitlyn blinked at him, he leaned forward. His teeth were bared again. "You don't even want to know?"
Kaitlyn felt distaste pinching her features. "You mean ... about. . ."
"The murder," Gabriel said, his dazzling grin getting nastier by the minute.
Fear uncoiled in Kaitlyn's stomach. He was right-
she was crazy. What was she doing sitting here in his bedroom? Two days ago she wouldn't have sat in any guy's bedroom, and now she was chatting with a killer.
But Joyce wouldn't have brought him to the Institute if he was really dangerous, she thought. Joyce wouldn't take that risk.
Kaitlyn said slowly, "Was it really murder?" Then she looked straight up at Gabriel.
His expression changed as he met her eyes-as if she'd startled him. Then he seemed to regain his balance.
"I called it self-defense, but the judge didn't agree," he said. His eyes were now cold as ice.
Something inside Kaitlyn relaxed. "Self-defense," she said.
Gabriel looked at her for a long moment, then away. "Of course, the other one wasn't self-defense. The first one."
He's trying to shock you, Kaitlyn told herself.
He's succeeding, her mind whispered back.
"I'd better go," she said.
He was very fast. She was closer to the door, but before she could reach it, he was in front of her, blocking it.
"Oh, no," he said. "Don't you want to hear all about it?"
Those dark gray eyes were strange-almost fixed, as if he were looking through her. His expression was strange, too. As if he were covering unbearable tension with mockery and derision. Kaitlyn could see the glint of clenched teeth between his parted lips.
"Stop it, Gabriel," she
said. "I'm going."
"Don't be shy."
"I'm not shy, you jerk," she snapped. "I'm just sick of you." She tried to push past him and he wouldn't let her. They tussled.
Kaitlyn found out very quickly how much stronger he was.
Stupid, stupid, she thought, trying to get a hand free to hit him. How had she gotten herself into this mess?
Her heart was going like a trip-hammer, and her chest felt as if it would burst. She was going to have to scream-unless he stopped her. Choked her, maybe. Was that what he'd done to the others?
Maybe he'd used a knife. Maybe he cut them. Or maybe it had been something even worse.. ..
She and Gabriel had been struggling silently, their faces inches apart. Kaitlyn's mind was dark with imaginings of how he might have killed before.
And then...
And then it all stopped. Kaitlyn's fantasies were cut off as if somebody had slammed down a window in her mind. And all because of the look in Gabriel's eyes.
Grief. Guilt, too, plenty of that, but mainly grief. A kind Kaitlyn recognized, the kind that makes you nearly bite through your lip so you won't make a noise. The kind Kaitlyn could remember from when she was eight years old, when her mother died.
Gabriel, with his handsome, arrogant face, and his savage bared teeth, was trying to make the tears go away.
Kaitlyn stopped struggling with him, realizing in the moment she did that he hadn't hurt her. He'd been blocking her, restraining her, but he hadn't bruised her.
"Okay," she said, her voice loud in the silence. "So tell me, then."
It caught him off guard. Actually rocked him backward. For a moment he looked shocked-and vulnerable.
Then his face hardened. He was taking it as a challenge.
"I will," he snarled back. He let go of her and stepped away-a hunted, constrained movement. His chest was rising and falling quickly.
"You've all been wondering what I do," he said. "Haven't you?"
"Yes," Kait said. She moved cautiously away from the door. "Is that so surprising?"
"No." He laughed-a very bitter laugh. "It's what everyone wants to know. But when they find out, they don't like it." He turned and looked at her with mock bewilderment. "For some reason, they seem to be scared of me."