The Sunday night two weeks before when he’d lured her over to his house with the promise of pizza and videos was a perfect example. He’d poured wine, turned on soft music, dimmed the lights and asked her to dance with him as the moon rose over the Pacific—but he hadn’t made one single solitary attempt to even kiss her.
Which, of course, was exactly the way she wanted it, she told herself, cutting past the children’s playground to a path offering some shade. Adam was being a perfect gentleman, and wasn’t that what she wanted from him?
He’d looked at her with that absorbed, intense green gaze that told her in more than words exactly what he wanted to be doing with her, and she’d dropped, spilled, broken, tripped over everything in sight and completely bungled whatever it was she was doing all evening long. She’d stepped all over his feet when they danced, far too aware of his muscular arms holding her a few enticing inches away from his body. She’d dropped pizza down the front of her silk shirt and then knocked a plate flying.
Adam wanted her, and he made sure it showed, but he stuck to the letter of their agreement that they would only be friends. She paused at a water fountain to take a few long gulps before she ran again, her mind still on Adam. Who would have believed that having him want her could be so seductive? She understood now all too well how he’d become as arrogant as he was about his sex appeal. It was getting harder and harder to be around him without succumbing to his wordless campaign.
“Sameh. Sameh, hey, Sameh, stop.” An arm suddenly snaked out and grabbed her, almost pulling her off balance. It took her only a moment to recognize the thin figure in the tattered cutoffs. It was Troy, the young street boy she’d brought home weeks ago, the boy Violet had chased away.
Sameh had worried about him, watched for him every morning. Relief at seeing him again rushed over her, and she reached out and took his grubby hand in hers, twining her fingers through his. He looked even thinner than he had when she’d last seen him, and she noticed an ugly bruise on the side of his face. He wore round, rimless glasses, and the nosepiece was taped together. He kept shoving at the glasses with one finger.
“Troy, I’m so happy to see you again. How are you? Where have you been?”
“Around.” His eyes flitted past her, and he tensed as a figure appeared farther down the path, relaxing only when he realized it was just an old man leading a small dog on a leash. In an urgent voice he said, “Sameh, you got any money on ya?”
“Very little.” She dug into the inside pocket of her running shorts and produced the four quarters that Adam insisted she always carry when she went jogging—enough to make phone calls in case of an emergency. “Only this.” She held the coins out on her palm.
Troy’s thin shoulders sagged and he jabbed at his glasses again. Under the smudged lenses she could see dark circles under his eyes. “Jeez, a lousy buck. It’s not enough. My buddy’s sick. I need money to get him some stuff.”
Sameh remembered Adam’s warnings. Was Troy talking about drugs? She studied him, trying to decipher the truths that lay behind the anxiety swirling around him in a murky cloud. He was hiding something, was frightened and desperate, but she couldn’t sense any menace in the boy. Instead she detected an appeal for help and the pervasive feeling of hopelessness that had so bothered her the first time she’d met him.
“Where is your friend? What’s his name?”
“Cougar. He’s over there, behind those buildings. We’re, like, kinda camped out over there.” Troy gestured toward the park’s concrete-block washrooms a few hundred feet away.
“Take me to him and maybe I can help.”
“Promise you won’t call the cops? Cougar’s major scared of cops.”
“I promise.”
He set off at a trot, and Sameh followed close behind. There was a depression in the ground just behind the buildings where shrubs and a few trees grew. Troy shouldered his way through the foliage to where an emaciated figure with a shaven head lay huddled on the ground, partially covered with a jean jacket. He looked even younger than Troy, who’d told Sameh he was fourteen.
Sameh knelt beside the boy, appalled at the foul smell that came from the youngster’s body. She touched his cheek with her hand. He was running a high fever. He opened his eyes and looked up at her, his eyes bloodshot and sunken in his skull. His breathing was fast and shallow, and he was shivering. “I need a drink,” he croaked.
“I’ll get him some more water.” Troy pulled a small backpack out of the bushes, rummaged inside until he’d found a plastic cup, and headed off to the washrooms.
“It’s awful cold.” Cougar curled his body into an even tighter ball and closed his eyes. It was obvious he was too miserable to care who Sameh was or what she was doing there.
The park was quiet at this hour, and Sameh could hear the birds heralding the morning. This boy was sick. She tried to recall the exact pattern of healing the Hospice Adepts had used in the rare cases of fever she’d been allowed to observe. They’d worked from the head. She moved around until she was kneeling at the top of Cougar’s head, and she cupped her hands in the particular fashion she remembered them using, trying hard to draw energy through the boy’s body.
Time passed, but nothing happened. Her hands began to tremble, and all the old feelings of inadequacy and failure came back to haunt her. Feeling dejected and the worst kind of bungling idiot, she lowered her hands and slumped back onto her haunches. It was no use. She couldn’t manage the technique here any more than she’d been able to do in her own time.
“I got you some cold water, Coug. Wake up.” In slow motion, trying not to spill, Troy knelt beside Cougar, balancing the brimming cup. With painful effort, Cougar rolled onto his back, and with Sameh’s help, struggled to a sitting position so he could drink. He rested his back against Troy’s legs, tremors shuddering through his body.
“Throat’s awful sore,” he said in a gravelly voice. He took a few tiny sips and grimaced as he tried to swallow. After a few attempts, he handed Troy the cup and shook his head. “Can’t,” he said in a weak voice.
Sameh got to her feet and stood over him. He looked small and infinitely sad, huddled there on the ground, and she was suddenly furious all over again at a society that would treat its children in this heartless manner.
Troy was looking at her, and she could see the desperation in his eyes. “I don’t know what to do, Sameh. I tried to get him into a shelter. I tried a couple, but they wouldn’t take him. They’re scared what he’s got is contagious and then the whole place would get sick. I barely got him here—he’s pretty heavy to carry.”
Sameh nodded, not really listening as much as feeling Troy’s despair. But he had something else as well. Troy had a great deal of energy. Maybe she could harness some of it to help.
“Let’s try something, Troy. Give me your hands.”
He hesitated and then placed his dirty palms on her outstretched fingers. She closed her hands around his and moved until the two of them stood palm to palm, with Cougar’s slouched form between their legs.
“I want you to think of somewhere you’d like to be right now, Troy. A place where you’d be safe and warm, a place where nothing can harm you.”
He gave her a wary glance. “Like where? I dunno any place like that.”
Her heart contracted with pity as she realized the enormity of her mistake. How could he know anything of safety and warmth? Tears smarted in her eyes, and she had to pause a moment before she could continue.
“Imagine a beach then, on a desert island far away from here.” She made her voice compelling, searching for the soul note, the phenomonic, that would resonate inside him. “You’re the only person there, Troy.” Her voice was rhythmic now, luring him into the fantasy. “There are all kinds of fresh fruit and fish to eat, the sun’s wonderfully warm and the water’s great for surfing. You’re lying on that beach, half-asleep. Warm, safe, full of food, happy.”
His eyelids relaxed and a wistful half smile tilted his mouth. She had the so
und right. Now, if she could just utilize his energy in conjunction with her own…. She visualized a shining bubble encircling the three of them, and suddenly it was there, all around them.
Success surprised her so much it made her jump and almost lose her concentration, but she managed to recover in time to retain the glowing sphere of raw, healing energy. Cougar moaned, and she turned the bubble green, a deep emerald green, the universal color of healing.
Time stood still. Heat spilled from her palms to Troy’s and back to her again in a circuit that encompassed their bodies and surrounded Cougar. She turned the bubble a warm, pulsing orange, and she visualized Cougar free of fever, his body healed.
The sound of voices interrupted. The park attendants were beginning their day’s work, and one of them came through the underbrush toward Sameh and the boys. He shoved his duck-billed cap to the back of his head and stared at them. “What’s going on here? These kids bothering you, lady?”
Slowly, reluctant to let it go, Sameh released the spell. She turned a dazzling smile on the attendant. “These boys are my friends. We’re just visiting.”
“Yeah, huh? Well.” He gave Sameh a suspicious look and turned his attention to the boys. “I thought I told you two hooligans you weren’t to hang around back here no more. You listen up and get movin’ or I’ll call the cops. This is a decent park, for decent folk. Don’t need no trash hangin’ out ’round here, scarin’ people off.” He shot them all a malevolent look before he turned and walked away.
Cougar was no longer slumping against Troy’s legs. He was sitting up on his own, reaching for the cup of water Troy had set down in the grass earlier. He downed the entire contents in one long, thirsty draft and struggled to his knees, then to his feet. He staggered a little and had to grab Troy’s arm for support.
“Hey, man, I feel a lot better.” He tried for a grin, and Sameh could see that two of his front teeth were missing. He wasn’t as tall as Troy, and his thinness was alarming. His eyes were no longer glazed and bloodshot, and she could see now that they were deep, soft brown, singularly attractive eyes in an acne-pitted face.
Troy wasn’t paying any attention to Cougar. Instead he was gaping at Sameh, his expression a mixture of awe and fear and suspicion. “What…what the hell are you, lady, some kind of witch?” A tremor ran through him, and he gulped. “I never felt anything like that before. I mean, like I been on some heavy trips, but never nothing like that. What did you do to us?”
Cougar looked from one to the other. “Hey, Troy, my man, I’m better, dint ya hear me?” He stumbled and had to sit down on the grass. “Whew, I’m still sorta weak, though. We got any money for some food, Troy? I’m runnin’ on empty, man.”
“Troy.” Sameh reached out and touched his face with the palm of her hand, smiling at him. “It’s just a sort of trick, a healing trick I learned. Don’t be frightened. Almost anyone could learn it. It’s—” she struggled for the proper slang “—it’s no big deal, okay? And Cougar’s better. Isn’t that all that really matters?” The warmth and reassuring energy of her hand calmed Troy. He looked at Cougar, and a smile slowly spread across his face.
“Hey, man. We gonna eat, or what?” Cougar persisted.
Sameh had been trying to figure out what to do. There was no guarantee that Cougar’s fever was gone for good—she’d never tried this exact technique before, and her healing abilities were questionable at best. She couldn’t just run off and leave them here hungry, with no money, no shelter. She didn’t dare take them home to Delilah’s; the older woman was still asleep, and anyway, Delilah hadn’t been herself the past few weeks. She’d been short-tempered and distracted, snapping at everyone and then apologizing.
Violet was up, of course. The moment Sameh brought these kids in the house, Violet would call the police and have the boys taken away. No, taking them home with her was out of the question, and she had the feeling that if she left them here and ran home to get money, they’d be gone by the time she returned. There was only one other solution.
“I’m calling a friend of mine, and we’re taking you both out for a huge breakfast,” she promised. She spotted a phone booth not far away. “Stay right here and I’ll get my friend to come pick us up in his car.”
“She callin’ the cops on us?” Sameh heard Cougar’s frightened whisper as she loped off toward the phone.
“Nope,” Troy said in a positive tone. “She’s weird like I never saw before in my life, but she won’t call no cops on us, I’m sure of that. She’s okay.”
THE PHONE RANG at seven-fifteen. Adam had just stepped out of the shower. He cursed under his breath, rubbed his hair with a towel and then wrapped it around his waist and made his way to the bedroom. Water dripped in a puddle at his feet as he lifted the receiver and said a terse hello.
“Sameh?” He tensed, listened, then frowned. “I thought I told you these kids could be dangerous. Where the hell are you?” He listened again. “Okay, just stay put. I’ll be there as soon as I can.” He slammed the phone down, dried himself off and then dressed as fast as he could.
She was in some park, for God’s sake, alone with a couple of young punks who might or might not be high on who knew what. She’d said one of them wasn’t feeling well. She wanted—he shook his head, unable to believe he’d heard right—she wanted him to come and take the three of them out for breakfast. She had no money with her but she’d pay him back, she’d promised in that husky, earnest voice that made him think of bedrooms and lascivious things.
Pay him back. Goddamn it, money wasn’t the issue here at all. Sanity, rational behavior—that was the issue. She was driving him berserk. What in blazes was he going to do with this woman? She was constantly getting him into situations he didn’t want to be in, and he went right on letting her.
Hell, nobody in his right mind would want to take two street kids out to breakfast at seven-fifteen on a Tuesday morning. Nobody but Sameh. And there was still a big question mark about the state of her mind, as far as he was concerned.
He stuffed his keys and his wallet into his pants pocket, ran a brush through his wet hair, rubbed his unshaven jaw and headed out the door.
THEY WERE ALL SITTING on a park bench, just where she’d said they’d be. The boys were clutching small backpacks. One of them was shaved bald and had a ring in his nose, and the other one, the one with broken glasses, had tattoos and a head of dark hair that stood out from his head as if he’d suffered a severe electrical shock.
Sameh smiled and waved. She was wearing abbreviated pink running shorts and a matching singlet, with a white headband holding back her mass of golden curls. She looked only slightly older than the two skinny kids she was with. She was a damn sight prettier, though, but at the moment that didn’t make him feel any better about the situation.
He pulled the car over to the curb. Before he could get out, Sameh came trotting over, all long tanned legs and delectable curves. God, if she was his, he’d never let her out on the streets in that getup. The boys followed at a slower pace.
“Are you sure he’s not a cop, Sameh?” The kid with all the hair gave Adam a suspicious stare through his smudged lenses, and the other boy, the one with the nose ring, looked poised to run.
“He’s not a policeman, I assure you,” Sameh told them. “He’s my friend and he’s just going to take us all out for breakfast, aren’t you, Adam?”
She flashed that brilliant smile. Damn it, why couldn’t he resist Sameh’s smiles? “I’m just going to take you all out for breakfast,” he parroted. His sarcasm was lost on Sameh, but it registered on the boys. They took several wary steps back, so he added in an exasperated tone, “Would you all get in this damned car? I’m not a cop and I haven’t the slightest interest in busting either of you—I’ve got better things to do with my time. I haven’t had a cup of coffee yet this morning, and if you don’t climb in right now, I’m driving away by myself to find one. Got it?”
For some peculiar reason, his irritability reassured them. They open
ed the door and squeezed into the small back seat.
“Thank you for coming, Adam.” Sameh flashed him a look that might have made up for the whole thing if only the boys weren’t there, or even if they were cleaner. His silver gray upholstery was going to take a severe beating.
“Cool car,” Troy said after Sameh had made introductions. “You must be like major rich, mister, driving a number like this.”
“I’m gonna expire if I don’t get somethin’ to eat soon,” Cougar moaned.
“Where to?” Adam raised a questioning brow at Sameh.
“There’s a pancake house not far from here,” she suggested. “Would that do?”
Affirmatives erupted from the back seat.
The hostess at the restaurant didn’t turn a hair at the sight of Adam, unshaven, Sameh in jogging gear, and the two scruffy-looking, tattooed teens. Thank God for Hollywood, Adam thought. She probably figured they were extras from some movie set.
He noticed several burly men who might have been truck drivers ogle Sameh as she passed. Adam was behind her, and the look he gave them made their heads whip back to their breakfast plates as if they were on springs.
A wide-bottomed hostess conducted them to a large booth. A waitress soon appeared, poured coffee, slammed down menus, rhymed off specials and left them to consider choices.
“Pancakes, eggs and bacon,” both boys recited. They looked at Adam and added tentatively, “Toast? Cereal?” It was obvious they were testing him, finding out how far his largess extended.
Adam nodded and asked for large glasses of juice, home fries and doubles on the pancakes, as well. He was remembering all of a sudden how hungry a teenage boy could get and wondering with an uncomfortable feeling in his own gut how long it had been since these two had had full stomachs.
Not Quite an Angel (Harlequin Superromance No. 595) Page 14