The Lost (Sin Hunters)

by Piñeiro, Caridad

  He groaned and the sound rumbled through her, creating an answering vibration between her legs. Making her want more.

  “Touch me, Adam,” she said, and was unprepared for his response.

  “I can’t, Bobbie. I can’t do this,” he said, and pushed away from her. The feet of the kitchen chair squeaked against the tiled floor with the motion and then he was on his feet, pacing before her.

  There was no denying he had been as affected by their encounter as she had been. The proof was right there in the strong jut of his erection against his sweats, which made her wonder about his reaction to her request.

  “Why not, Adam? If there’s one thing I know it’s that time is too short not to grab what you want before it’s too late.”

  His gaze was understanding as it met hers. “I don’t want to add to your hurt.”

  “You think you’d hurt me?” she said, and then recalled his earlier words. His response to her when she had mentioned his touch.

  Rising from her chair, she took a step toward him, but he held up his hand to keep her away and she felt it then.

  Power. Pouring off his hand and creating an almost physical barrier.

  “What is this that I’m feeling?” she asked, raising her hand and pressing against that field of energy, watching it glaze over like frost on a winter window beneath her hand. As she pushed onward, it awakened a corresponding glimmer of lighter blue along her wrist and arm.

  “It’s me, Bobbie. It’s why I can’t be with you,” he said, a wealth of hurt and loneliness evident in his gaze and voice. So much hurt and loneliness that it caused her heart to ache. She might have known hard times in her life, but she had never been alone or lacked for love.

  Pressing forward, she experienced the resistance of his energy, but didn’t let that stop her. As she muscled her way past the barrier he had tossed up, it was like being swallowed up in a vortex of power. Her body vibrated from the waves as they buffeted her, causing her to grow weak.

  She took another step toward him, but faltered, as if she were slogging through a foot of heavy mud with a full pack of gear.

  With her gaze locked on his, she realized he wouldn’t really hurt her. Whatever weird thing this was, she was safe, although each step she took became increasingly difficult.

  “Please stay away,” he said, and gave another shove, which sent her reeling backward, near collapse as the rush of energy that came with it seemed to rob her of the last of her strength. Her knees buckled then, but he was immediately there, wrapping his arms around her to hold her close.

  “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to do that,” he said.

  She looked up at him, amazed and yet puzzled. “What are you?”

  Sadness darkened the green of his eyes until they were almost black. “I wish I knew.”

  The Light Hunters’ cadre patrolled the area around Adam Bruno’s home, vigilant for any signs of danger, prepared to battle the Shadow Hunters if they arrived on the scene.

  All appeared to be quiet, although the residual ribbons of energy from the earlier flood lingered, dancing in the air, as colorful as a brilliant aurora borealis display to those who could see them.

  Pity the humans who could not perceive the energy storm’s beauty, Andres thought. The captain of the clan’s cadre strode beneath the fluttering undulations of power, vigilant. All seemed calm, he thought, as he casually walked a large brown and black dog on what appeared to be a perfectly ordinary evening stroll.

  Adam Bruno’s home took up the entire block, leaving a great deal of space between him and his neighbors. Lush, carefully tended gardens surrounded the large mansion across the street from the beachfront. White fencing enclosed most of the property, and as Andres turned the corner, he took note of the car parked at the curb in front of the home.

  From his surveillance he knew it did not belong to either Adam or the man who had stolen him and claimed him as his son, which made Andres wonder if the woman from that afternoon was already there. Had she been responsible for the release of power by draining the Quinchu? He continued his stroll past the front of the property, his pace slightly more hurried.

  The dog beside him whined and looked upward, voicing his concern. Andres dropped to one knee and pulled the dog close, scratching its ruff. “Easy, Eduardo. We must not act rashly.”

  Eduardo, who had assumed the canine shell from a German shepherd in a yard across the street, shook his head and jumped up and down on his front paws, clearly agitated.

  Andres understood the reason for his partner’s distress. “If the woman is a Shadow, we will deal with her.” If she hadn’t already drained the Quinchu of power, that is. If she had, they might have quite a battle on their hands. A fully charged Shadow Hunter possessed enormous power and was capable of great harm. An attack of such a group of Shadows was the reason they had lost their Quinchu’s son in the first place.

  Andres would not let that happen again.

  Rising to his feet, Andres jerked on the chain and urged Eduardo forward until he could see through the large glass windows of the home. Light spilled into the night.

  She was inside, sitting on the sofa, the blue of her aura strong as if she had just fed, but not so empowered that she could not be defeated. A second later a man entered the room, walked to where the woman sat and offered her a glass. Then the man plopped down on the coffee table before her, his back to the windows, but there was no doubting who it was.

  Adam Bruno, apparently alive, and from what Andres could see, uninjured.

  All around him shone a potent aura of energy, way more powerful than it had been earlier in the day. It shimmered in an intense spectrum of blues tinged with threads of silver and red. The field of energy was immensely larger than any Andres had ever seen before. Not even Kellen and Selina, the Quinchus of their clan, possessed such potency. As their son, Kikin’s power signature should have been similar, but Adam’s was not.

  How could he have misread that aura earlier in the day? And was it possible that Adam Bruno was not their missing Kikin, but a Quinchu from some other nearby clan?

  Beside him Eduardo began to whine. As Andres glanced down, he realized why. Eduardo was beginning to revert to his true form. Already the dog’s thick black and brown fur was receding, allowing glimpses of peach-colored skin beneath. His paws had softened, showing the nail beds and fingertips of a human.

  Andres scooped Eduardo up, but could not zap them to the van, since they were too visible. He rushed back to where the remaining members of their cadre waited. The side door slid open and Andres deposited Eduardo onto the bed of the vehicle. Jerking the door closed behind him, he watched as Eduardo’s body shook and heaved as the transformation raced along. The elongated snout of the shepherd slid back, flattening into familiar features as his pointed ears also shortened and rounded. The sharp teeth and canines smoothed to human bluntness and soon thereafter came the pop of bones resuming their normal positions as tendons and muscles sang with tension during their elongation. After a low, almost pitiful wail, however, the transformation stopped, leaving Eduardo’s lower half shrunken and in the form of the canine.

  Drained, Eduardo’s head lolled limply to the floor. He lacked the power to complete the transformation, and if he didn’t do so quickly, he would die. His body could not pump enough blood through the smaller dog shape to maintain his human-sized organs.

  As Andres gripped Eduardo’s hand, he realized that Eduardo’s life force was even weaker than he had thought. “Hang on, my friend.”

  Eduardo nodded, but it was a feeble motion. As his eyes rolled back into his head, Andres feared the worst and cursed the day the humans had brought their sickness to the Hunters.

  “Hurry home. The Quinchus must restore him immediately,” Andres instructed, although he feared Eduardo would not last that long.

  “We are leaving?” asked Stephan, the cadre member behind the wheel.

  “There is nothing happening right now.”

  Turning to the other cadre membe
rs in the van, he commanded, “Marcus and Lucas. Secure the perimeter in case the Shadows track the source of the power or the woman causes a problem.”

  The two soldiers left the van and then Andres returned his attention to Eduardo. His friend’s grasp was frail and Andres sensed the life force fading from him. Andres knew of Eduardo’s reluctance to accept sustenance from other Hunters like him, but it was necessary. They were not powerful energy gatherers and normally relied on the Quinchus to sustain them. Without such feedings, it might take days to recover from even a simple expenditure of energy, like that which had transformed Eduardo into the German shepherd.

  Bending close to Eduardo, he urged, “I need you with me if the Shadows attack. Accept what I offer freely.”

  With that plea to his responsibility to the clan, Eduardo finally opened his eyes and grasped Andres’s hand tighter. Opening the gateway to his life force, Eduardo allowed Andres to gift him with a portion of his own limited energy. Although it would weaken Andres, he hoped he would still be strong enough to fight if that proved necessary.

  Inside him Andres experienced the pull of power into his friend. The drain made him nearly light-headed, but as he watched, the last vestiges of the dog vanished, leaving behind a fully transformed Eduardo, his body drenched and trembling from the shapeshifting.

  Andres didn’t release his grasp, aware that Eduardo needed to continue feeding to survive. He was too weak, and it worried Andres that the transformation had taken so much of his friend’s power. It did not bode well for his continued existence.

  Within a few minutes of feeding, Eduardo was already better. His color remained pale and a fine sweat lingered on his body, but he was able to take a sip of the water that another cadre member offered him.

  It would only be a few minutes more before they were at the oceanfront compound where his clan leaders had taken residence. There the Quinchus could provide Eduardo even greater strength, so that he would be capable of resuming his duties.

  Or at least that’s what Andres hoped. Andres could ill afford to lose even one man. He would need each and every available soldier in the cadre should the Shadows emerge or if Adam Bruno turned out to be something other than what they believed.

  And if that happened…

  Lord help both the Hunters and the humans.

  CHAPTER

  12

  Bobbie accepted the fresh glass of scotch without hesitation, needing something to hold in order to still the trembling of her fingers.

  Adam plopped down on the coffee table before her, his gaze dark with emotion. “Are you okay?”

  Okay? She was attracted to a man capable of all kinds of weird things, who made her body tingle—and maybe not in a good way—and whom someone had tried to kidnap.

  “I’m okay, but I don’t understand any of this,” she admitted, shaking her head.

  He nodded, lowered his gaze, and with a shrug said, “Would it help at all if I said I didn’t understand it either?”

  “No. I’m used to order and control.”

  A harsh laugh burst from him and he gave an angry shake of his head. “That’s all I’ve ever had in my life and I still feel like I have nothing sometimes.”

  Another shrug rippled across those broad, beautiful shoulders. Despite what had happened before, she needed to touch him, and she suspected he needed the comfort also. Laying her hand on his shoulder, she ignored the rash of his power against her palm and trailed her hand up the corded muscles in his neck to cradle his cheek. Urging his face upward, she rubbed the chiseled line of his jaw, where a muscle ticked nervously. “Nothing? You have family and friends, right?”

  “Not really. My father was afraid of revealing what I could do to others, so I was home schooled until I got tired of being so alone. I insisted on going to a public high school when I was twelve.”

  “Twelve? In high school? Must have been rough.”

  That stark laugh came again. “Luckily I was a big kid. Made it easier to blend in, but I always felt out of place.”

  And not just in school, she suspected. Even now, as successful as he was, Adam still seemed to be an outsider. In some ways, she understood.

  “When my family first came here, we were different. We were determined to show we were worthy of being here. In the Marines, I had to prove myself again, so I know what it’s like,” she urged, and tracked her thumb down to the perfect cleft in his chin, circled the edges of it, and watched as that shimmer of sky blue rose again along with warmth and need.

  “So maybe we’ve got something in common.” The ghost of a smile teased his lips before he raised his hand and grasped hers, moving it away from his body. But he didn’t release her hand. A pleasant buzz of connection dallied where skin met skin as he rested their joined hands on her thigh.

  “It’s almost like the vibes from a massager,” she said.

  Adam peered down to where their hands lay. The paler blue of her aura had spread over his as if accepting the union. “I wish I knew what it was. I’ve been trying to find out for years—”

  “Years?” she jumped in. “Doesn’t your father have information about your background?”

  “I’m not really sure what my father does or doesn’t know.” He withdrew his hand from hers, severing their connection. He couldn’t explain to her about all of his father’s nasty need-to-know CIA kind of crap. Or maybe he didn’t need to, he considered. Maybe she already knew because she was a part of whatever was going on.

  “Adam?” she questioned, her gaze traveling across his features as she sensed his withdrawal. She reached for him, but he backed away and the hurt blossomed on her face.

  “Did I say something wrong?” she asked.

  “You seem to have a lot of questions all of a sudden.”

  She jerked to her feet, snagged her cane, and gave him needed distance, pacing awkwardly before she rounded on him.

  “You think I had something to do with what happened today?”

  “Two men try to grab me and suddenly there you are with an aura that I’ve never seen on anyone else before.”

  A disbelieving snort burst from her. When she spoke, her body quivered with tension as she jabbed a long, elegant finger in his direction. Each poke caused a shudder against his aura, as if she were physically touching him. “I didn’t even know who you were before today.”

  He rose from the coffee table and approached until he was almost nose to nose with her. “But now you know who I am. What I can do, especially for you,” he pressed and, for good measure, skimmed his hand down her left arm again. There was no denying the shock of power that had her jerking away from him.

  “Damn you. I didn’t ask to be brought into this. I wouldn’t ask—”

  “Because you’ve already been through enough conflict?” he asked, and grabbed hold of her waist, but his touch was soothing once again, as his concern for her and compassion for what she had suffered replaced his doubt and fear.

  “I’m sorry,” he said, but she was shoving away from him, leaning heavily on her cane as she headed for the door.

  He chased after her and stepped into her path, forcing her to stop. “I’m sorry,” he repeated, and reached for her, his touch gentle, tender, as he brushed his hands up and down her arms, only the most intense control keeping him from any seepage of his vitality.

  She tilted her head up defiantly, fire kindling in her hazel gaze. “I had nothing to do with today. I’ve never seen those men before.”

  It would take an Oscar-worthy actress to fake the earnestness in her voice or the resoluteness of her features. In that instant he knew he had only one decision to make.

  Trust her or continue to be alone.

  Dragging in a ragged breath, he held it for long moments before he expelled it shakily and said, “I believe you.”

  There was no denying what it had taken for him to reach that decision, Bobbie thought.

  It was clear from the way his shoulders sagged with frustration and the shadows in his eyes that stole th
e life from them. She stepped near and wrapped her arms around him, offering comfort, laying her face alongside his and whispering, “We’ll work together to find out what’s going on.”

  “Why would you do that?” he asked, his body still stiff in her arms, his hands hanging loosely at his sides.

  She inched back a bit and he glanced at her. So many emotions played across his face that it was impossible to take a read of him. Bringing her arms around, she rested a hand on each cheek, sensing the tingle of power once more, but pushing it away.

  “Because I don’t want you to feel so alone anymore.”

  Something broke free in him then. He finally encircled her waist and rested his forehead on hers. Long moments passed as the comfort of the embrace drove away earlier fears and upset. When peace finally overtook them, the contact slowly transformed.

  Adam nuzzled his nose along the side of her face. “Thank you for that, but I guess we should work on it tomorrow. You look a little tired.”

  She turned toward him, her lips brushing along the line of his jaw as she said, “I am. I should go.”

  “You could stay.”

  Stay.

  The word echoed in her brain over and over.

  Stay.

  Seemingly a simple action, but not. Staying meant opening up so much more of herself to him. It wasn’t just the physical wounds that were still too fresh. Her emotions were a jumble and surprisingly fragile. She had always considered herself to be strong inside and out, but the deaths of her men continued to haunt her, as did the guilt. That made it difficult for her to really feel anything else or trust in her emotions, not to mention that she had been hoping for peace in her civilian life. If today was proof of one thing it was that being with Adam might entail risk. She was unsure whether she could handle that on a daily basis.

  “It’s too soon,” she replied, and with a resigned smile, he nodded.

  “I understand. I’ll drive you home.” He dropped a quick kiss on her cheek and took a step away from her, but she snared his hand.

  “I’m a big girl. I can take care of myself.”