Lover Beware

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Lover Beware Page 10

by Christine Feehan


  Jonas’s gaze didn’t leave Hannah’s face. “You do that, Sarah.” He knotted his fists on his hips. “Did any of you consider Sarah might have been killed? Or how I might feel if I found her dead body? Or if I had to go up to your house and tell you she was dead? Because I thought a lot about that last night.”

  “I thought about it,” Damon said. “At least about Sarah being killed on my account.” He reached out to settle his fingers possessively around the nape of her neck. “It scared the hell out of me.”

  Kate and Abbey exchanged looks with Hannah. “I didn’t think of that,” Kate admitted. “Not once.”

  “Thanks a lot, Jonas,” Sarah said. “Now they’re all going to be making me crazy, wanting me to change my profession. I’m a security expert.”

  “It may beat being a Barbie doll, but I think you went overboard, Sarah,” Jonas replied. “A librarian sounds nice to me.”

  Hannah clenched her teeth but remained silent. The wind rushed through the street, sweeping the sheriff’s hat toward a storm drain. It landed in a dark puddle of water and disappeared from sight.

  Harrington swore under his breath and stalked back to his car, his shoulders stiff with outrage.

  “Hannah,” Kate scolded gently, “that wasn’t nice.”

  “I didn’t do it,” Hannah protested. “I would have had the oak tree come down and drive him underground feet first.”

  Abbey and Kate looked at Sarah. She merely raised her eyebrow. “I believe Irene and Drew are waiting.”

  Damon burst out laughing. “I can see I’m going to have to watch you all the time.” Why did it seem perfectly normal that the Drake sisters could command the wind? Even Harrington treated it as a normal phenomenon.

  They stopped in front of Irene’s house. Damon could see all the women squaring their shoulders as if going into battle. “Sarah, what do you think you can do for Drew? Surely you can’t cure what’s wrong with him.”

  Sadness crept into her eyes. “No, I wish I had that gift. Libby is the only one with a real gift for healing. I’ve seen her work miracles. But it drains her and we don’t like her doing it. There’s always a cost, Damon, when you use a gift.”

  “So you aren’t conjuring up spells with toads and dragon livers?” He was half-serious. He could easily picture them on broomsticks, flying across the night sky.

  “Well…” Abbey drew the word out, looking mischievously from one sister to the other. “We can and do if the situation calls for it. Drakes have been leaving each other recipes and spells for hundreds of years. We prefer to use the power within us, but conjuring is within the rules.”

  “You never let me,” Hannah groused.

  “No, and we’re not going to either,” Sarah said firmly. “Actually, Damon, to answer your question, we hope to assess the situation and maybe buy Drew a little more time. If the quality of his life is really bad, we prefer not to interfere. What would be the point of his lingering in pain? In that case, we’ll ease his suffering as best we can and leave everything to nature.”

  “Does Irene think you can cure him?” Damon asked, suddenly worried. He realized what a terrible responsibility the Drakes had. The townspeople were used to their eccentricities and believed they were miracle workers.

  “She wants to believe it. If Libby and my other sisters were here, all of us together might really be of some help, but the most we can do is slow things down to buy him time. We’ll find out from Drew what he wants. You’ll have to distract Irene for us. Have her go into the kitchen and make us lemonade and her famous cookies. She’ll be anxious, Damon, so you’ll really have to work at it. We’ll need time with Drew.”

  His gaze narrowed as he studied Sarah’s serious face. “What about you and your sisters? Are you going to be ill like you were last time?”

  “Only if we work on him,” Sarah said. “Then I don’t know how you’ll get us all home. You’ll have to ask Irene to drive us back.”

  “We should have thought to bring the car,” Kate agreed. “Do you think that’s a bad omen? Maybe there’s nothing we can do.”

  “Don’t go thinking that way, Kate,” Abbey reprimanded. “We all love to walk and it’s fun to be together. We can do this. If we’re lucky we can buy Drew enough time to allow Libby to come home.”

  “Is Libby coming back?” Damon asked.

  “I don’t know, Damon,” Hannah said, her eyebrow raising,

  “that’s rather up to you, now, isn’t it?”

  “Why would it be up to me?”

  “I thought you said he was one of the smartest men on the planet,” Kate teased. “Didn’t you design some top-secret defense system?”

  Damon glared at the women, at Sarah. “If I did and it was top secret, no one would know, now would they?”

  Hannah laughed. “Don’t be angry, Damon, Sarah didn’t tell us. We share knowledge, sort of like a collective pool. I can’t tell you how it works, only that we all have it. She would never give out that kind of information, even to us. It just happens. None of us would say anything, well,” she hedged, “except to tease you.”

  “So why is it up to me whether or not Libby comes home?”

  “She’ll come home if there’s a wedding,” Kate pointed out with a grin.

  Chapter 11

  DAMON LOOKED AROUND him at the four pale faces. Each of the Drake sisters was lying on a couch or draped over a chair, exhaustion written into the lines of her face. For a moment he felt helpless in the midst of their weariness, not knowing what to do for them. They had sat in Irene’s car, not speaking, with their white faces and trembling bodies. He had barely managed to help them into the cliff house.

  The phone rang, the sound shrill in the complete stillness of the house. The women didn’t move or turn toward the sound so Damon picked up the receiver. “Yes?”

  There was a long pause. “You must be Damon.” The voice was like a caress of velvet. “What’s wrong with them? I can feel them all the way here.” The voice didn’t say where “here” was.

  “You’re a sister?”

  “Of course.” Impatience now. “Elle. What’s wrong with them?”

  “They went to Irene’s to see Drew.” Damon could hear the sheer relief in the small sigh on the other end.

  “Make them sweet tea. There’s a canister in the cupboard right above the stove, marked MAGIC.” Damon carried the phone with him into the kitchen. “Drop a couple of teaspoons of the powder into the teapot and let the tea steep. That will help. Is the house warm? If not, get it warm: build a fire and use the furnace, whatever it takes. When’s the wedding?”

  “How soon can you and your sisters get back home?” Damon asked.

  “You know I should be angry with you. Not that burner, use the back burner. That’s the right canister.”

  “I don’t see what difference a burner makes, but okay and why should you be upset with me?” He didn’t even wonder how she knew what he was doing or what burner he was using. He took it as a matter of course.

  “Because I’m concentrating on it, the burner I mean. As for being upset, I think you started something we have no control over. I have no intention of finding a man for a long while. I have things to do with my life and a man doesn’t come into it, thank you very much. The infuser is in the very bottom drawer to the left of the sink.” She spoke as if she could see him going through the drawers looking for the little infuser to put the tea in.

  The house shuddered. Stilled. A ripple of alarm went through Damon.

  “What was that?” Elle sounded anxious again.

  “An earthquake maybe. A minor one. I’ve got the kettle on, the teapot is ready with the powder, two teaspoons of this stuff? Have you smelled it lately?” Damon was tempted to taste it. “It isn’t a dragon’s liver, is it?”

  Elle laughed. “We save those for Harrington. When he drops by we put it in his coffee.”

  “I really feel sorry for that man.” To his astonishment the teakettle shrilled loudly almost immediately. He poured th
e water into the little teapot and tossed a tea towel over it for added warmth. “Are you really going to have seven daughters?” he asked curiously, amazed that anyone would even consider it. Amazed that he was talking comfortably to a virtual stranger.

  The house shuddered a second time. A branch scraped along an outside wall with an eerie sound. The wind moaned and rattled the windows.

  “So the prophecy says,” Elle replied with a small sigh of resignation. “Damon, is something else wrong there?”

  “No, they’re just very tired.” Damon poured the tea into four cups and set the cups on a tray. “And the house keeps shaking.”

  “Hang up and call the sheriff’s office,” Elle said urgently. “Do it now.”

  He caught the sudden alarm in her voice and a chill went down his spine. Damn them all for their psychic nonsense. There wasn’t really anything wrong, was there?

  The dogs roared a vicious challenge. The animals were in the front yard, inside the fence, yet they were hurling their bodies against the front door so hard the wood threatened to splinter. Damon did as Elle commanded and phoned the sheriff’s office for help.

  No one screamed. Most women might have screamed under the circumstances but none of them did. When he carried the tray into the living room, all four of the Drake sisters were sitting quietly in their chairs. He ignored the two men standing in the middle of the room with guns drawn. Where before, when confronted with guns and violence, he had panicked, this time he remained quite calm.

  He knew they were killers. He knew what to expect. And this time, he knew he wouldn’t allow them to hurt the Drake sisters. It was very simple to him. It didn’t matter to him if he died, he needed the women to survive and live in the world. They were the ones who mattered, all that mattered. The women would remain alive.

  Damon set the tray on the coffee table and handed each of the sisters a cup of tea before turning to face the two men. He remembered them in vivid detail. The man with the swollen jaw had taken pleasure in torturing him. Damon was glad he had swung his cane hard enough to fracture the jaw.

  Damon straightened slowly. These men had murdered for the knowledge Damon carried in his brain. They had crippled him permanently and changed his entire life. Now they stood in Sarah’s home, sheer blasphemy on their part. They had entered through the sliding-glass door and had left it open behind them.

  Outside, the sea appeared calm, but he could see, in the distance, small frothy waves gathering and rolling with a building boom on the open water. He felt power moving him, a connection with the women through Sarah. Beloved, mysterious Sarah. He waited while the women sipped their tea. Stalling for time, knowing exactly what he would do.

  “You two seem to keep turning up,” Damon finally greeted. He took two steps to his right, closer to Sarah, turning slightly sideways so she could see the small gun he had taken from the hidden drawer where Elle had said he would find it. “Do you not have homes and families to go to?”

  “Shut up, Wilder. You know what we want. This time we have someone you care about. When I put a gun to her head I think you’re going to tell me what I want to know.”

  Damon looked past the man to the rolling sea. The wind was gusting, chopping the surface into white foam. The waves crested higher. The dogs continued roaring with fury and shaking the foundations of the living room door. Damon calmly raked his fingers through his hair, his gaze on a distant point beyond the men. The sisters drank the hot sweet revitalizing tea. And the power moved through Damon stronger than ever. Around each man a strange shadow flitted back and forth. A black circle that seemed to surround first one, then the other. At times the shadow appeared to have a human form. Most of the time it was insubstantial.

  “Would you care for a cup of tea?” Sarah asked politely. “We have plenty.”

  “Do sit down,” Kate invited. She shifted position, a subtle movement hardly noticeable, but it put her body slightly between the guns and Hannah.

  “This gun is real,” the man with the swollen jaw snapped. “This isn’t a party.” He grinned evilly at his partner. “Although when it’s over we might take one or two of the women with us for the road.”

  Sarah looked bored. “It’s very obvious neither of you is the brains in this venture. I can’t imagine that the man in jail is, either. Who in the world would hire such comedians to go looking for national secrets? It’s almost ludicrous. Are you in trouble with your boss and he’s looking to get rid of you?”

  “You have a smart mouth, lady; it won’t be so hard to shoot you.”

  “Do have some tea, at least we can be civil,” Abbey said sweetly. There was a strange cadence to her voice, a singsong quality that pulled at the listeners, drew them into her suggestions. “If you’re going to be with us for some time, we may as well enjoy ourselves with a fine cup of tea first and get to know one another.”

  The air in the room was fresh, almost perfumed, yet smelled of the sea, crisp and clean and salty. The two men looked confused, blinking rapidly, and exchanged a long bewildered frown. The man with the swollen jaw actually lowered his gun and took a step toward the tray with the little teapot.

  Kate stared intently at the locks on the front door, and the knob itself. Sarah never took her eyes from the two men. Waiting. Watching. The huntress. Damon thought of her that way. Listening, he thought he heard music, far out over the sea. Music in the wind. A soft melodious song calling to the elements. All the while the dark shadow edged around the two intruders.

  Hannah lifted her arms to the back of the couch, a graceful, elegant motion. The wind rose to a shriek, burst into the room with the force of a freight train. The men staggered under the assault, the wind ripping at their clothing. The bolt on the door turned and the door burst open under the heavy weight of the dogs. The animals leapt inside, teeth bared. Damon blinked as the crouching shadow leapt onto the back of one of the men and remained there.

  Sarah was already in motion, diving at the two men, going in low to catch the first man in a scissor kick, rolling to bring him down. He toppled into his partner, knocking him down so that his head slammed against the base of a chair. Sarah caught the gun Damon threw to her.

  The man with the swollen jaw rose up, throwing the chair as he drew a second gun. Damon attempted a kick with his one good leg. Sarah fired off three rounds, the bullets driving the man backward and away from Damon. She calmly pressed the hot barrel against the temple of the intruder on the floor. “I suggest you don’t move.” But she was looking at the man she shot, watching Hannah and Abbey trying to revive him. Watching the dark shadow steal away, dragging with it something heavy. Knowing her sisters could not undo what she had done. Sarah wiped her forehead with her palm and blinked back tears.

  Kate collected the guns. Abbey held back the dogs by simply placing her hand in warning on their heads.

  “I’m sorry, Sarah,” Damon said.

  “It was necessary.” She felt sick. It didn’t matter that he’d intended to kill them all, or that Death had been satisfied. She had taken a life.

  The wind moved through the room again, a soft breeze this time, bringing music with it. Touching Sarah. She looked at her sisters and smiled tiredly. “Hannah, the cavalry is coming up the drive. Do let them in and don’t do anything you’ll regret later.”

  Hannah rolled her eyes, stomped across the room, landing a frustrated kick to the shins on the man Sarah was holding. “Thanks a lot, I have to see that giant skunk two times in one day. That’s more than any lady should have to deal with.”

  Abigail leaned down, her face level with Sarah’s prisoner. “You’d really like to tell me who you’re working for, wouldn’t you?” Her tone was sweet, hypnotic, compelling. She looked directly into his eyes, holding him captive there. Waiting for the name. Waiting for the truth.

  At the doorway, Hannah called out a greeting to Jonas Harrington. “As usual, you’re just a bit on the late side. Still haven’t quite gotten over that bad habit of being late you set in school. You always d
id like to make your entrance at least ten minutes after the bell.” She had her hand on her hip and she tossed the silky mass of wavy hair tumbling around her shoulders. “It was juvenile then and it’s criminal now.”

  Deliberately he stepped in close to her, crowding her with his much larger body. “Someone should have turned you over their knee a long time ago.” The words were too low for anyone else to hear and he was sweeping past her to enter the room. Just for a moment his glittering eyes slashed at her, burned her.

  Every woman in the room reacted, eyes glaring at Jonas. Hannah held up her hand in silent admission she’d provoked him. She allowed the rest of the officers into the room before she took the dogs into the bedroom. Damon noticed she didn’t return.

  All the women were exhausted. Damon wanted everyone else gone. It seemed more important to push more tea into the Drake sisters’ hands, to tuck blankets around them, to shield them from prying eyes when they were obviously so vulnerable. He stayed close to Sarah while she was questioned repeatedly. The medical examiner removed the body and the crime scene team went over the room.

  Each of the sisters gave a separate report so it seemed an eternity until Damon had the house back in his control. “Thanks, Abbey, I don’t know how you managed to get that name, but hopefully they’ll be able to stop anyone else from coming after me.”

  Abbey closed her eyes and laid her head against the backrest of the chair. “It was my pleasure. Will you answer the phone? Tell Elle we’re too tired to talk but have her tell the others we’re all right.”

  “The phone isn’t ringing.” But he was already walking into the kitchen to answer it. Of course it wasn’t ringing. Yet. But it would. And it did. And he reassured Elle he wouldn’t leave her sisters and all was well in their world.

  It seemed hours before he was alone with Sarah. His Sarah. Before he could frame her face in his hands and lower his head to kiss her with every bit of tenderness he had in him. “There was something I saw, a shadow, dark and grim. I felt it had been on me, with me, and now it’s gone. That sounds ridiculous, Sarah, but I feel lighter, as if a great burden is off of me. You know what I’m talking about, don’t you?”

 

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