Devotion Calls

by Caridad Piñeiro

  Not normal society. It had failed all those people. But Ricardo and Samantha hadn’t failed them.

  “The answer isn’t easy, is it?” she said.

  Melissa cupped her cheek and said, “On the contrary. It’s very easy.”

  Sara shook her head, certain her friend had lost it until Melissa said, “Trust your heart, amiga.”

  Trust her heart? Her heart was telling her that if Ricardo devoted even a small part of himself to her, she would be a very lucky lady. Only there was so much else in the way. Monsters and vampires and, hardest of all, her own mistrust of what he was and what he could do.

  “Don’t run, Sara. Not now.”

  Her friend was right about one thing. In her entire life Sara had never let adversity get the better of her.

  She wasn’t about to start now.

  Chapter 21

  T he barred wooden door rattled against its hinges, shook with the force of whatever was imprisoned within. The clanging reverberated in the night, growing louder with each echo.

  Curious, he approached the door, laid his hand on one of the thick iron bars.

  Sharp teeth sank deep into his hand, latching on and not letting go. He cried out in pain.

  Ricardo bolted upright in bed, shaking uncontrollably. He checked his hand, which seemed to throb from the bite he’d imagined. It was only a dream, he told himself. A nightmare. It had come to him every night since the chupacabra had touched him. Contaminated him with its hurtful thoughts and negative energies.

  He had been meditating twice daily in the hope of containing those energies and driving them from his psyche. So far, it had been a difficult battle. Like the bite in the dream, it seemed as if the chupacabra had sunk its fangs deep into his soul.

  Ricardo rose and shook his body, visualizing that as he did so he was shaking off the lingering remnants of the beast.

  But still the sensation remained, tenaciously maintaining its hold on him.

  After his shower and enough coffee to fuel the space shuttle, he went down to his shop, and as he had done for years, replaced the offerings on the altar. After, for good measure, he lit a special candle before one of the saints’ statues. His grandmother and mother did the same regularly before one of Nuestra Señora de Guadeloupe. He offered thanks and prayer to the virgencita, asked for guidance as to what he might do, and relief from the dreams plaguing him.

  Afterward, he stood and gazed at the statue, laid his hands against the altar and dug deep within himself. He searched for all that he believed in. Reminded himself that he had the strength to survive this. He had survived so much already, from his time in the migrant worker camps to those days in the marines when the suffering all around had nearly undone him.

  He would find the strength to deal with this, as well.

  He had his beliefs. He had his friends.

  At the tentative knock on the door, he turned.

  Sara stood there, her body enveloped in her down jacket.

  His gut tightened, his heart skipped a beat, but he tamped down his inclination to rush to the door, uncertain of the reception that awaited him.

  She’s here, idiot! the voice in his head chastised. Would she be here if she didn’t want to see you?

  But then reality reared its ugly head, reminding him that there was another possibility why Sara was here.

  Fear for her mother forced him to nearly race to the door. “Is everything okay?”

  She shook her head and chuckled harshly, much as she had a few nights ago on the phone. “Let’s see.” She picked up a gloved hand and counted down each item as it rushed out of her mouth. “One, there’s a crazy-ass chupacabra on the loose. Two, there are actually vampires. Three, it seems as if I’ve become part of the Fang Gang Fan Club, and finally, number four—” A shiver ran through her then, distracting her from her countdown.

  She rubbed her arms through her jacket, and the action sent Ricardo’s attention to the carefully stitched repairs of the damage done a few nights ago. “I owe you a new coat,” he said.

  “That’s not why I’m here.” She shoved past him and into the shop. He shut the door, flipped the sign to Closed and stood before her.

  “Why are you here?”

  She raised her gloved hand once again, held up three fingers before raising the fourth. “Number four, I think I care enough for you to not want you to go this alone.”

  In his mind he had pictured hundreds of scenarios for the next time he saw her. Some of them had included a confession such as this one. Of course, the probability for this scenario was the lowest. Now that it had happened…

  “I think I care for you, as well,” he replied.

  “Sucks for us, doesn’t it?”

  He chuckled, because it was painfully true. “It does suck, because we both know that it’s wrong on so many levels.”

  “Right. Totally wrong.” She patted her hands against her jacket. From one of the repaired tears, an errant feather poked out, and he used that as an excuse to step close to her. He plucked the feather free, held it in his fingers. Then he met Sara’s gaze once again.

  She looked strong and confident when she said, “I’m not afraid of the chupacabra.”

  “Well, that makes one of us, then.” He feared not the physical damage the beast could inflict, but the danger to his psyche if it took control of him once again.

  She removed her gloves and laid her hand on his face. Her palm was soft, but chilled. He relished it nevertheless.

  “We won’t let it get at you again,” she said.

  “We? Is that the royal we, as in you and—”

  “The Fang Gang. And Diana, whatever she is, besides one competent FBI agent.”

  “So you’ve gotten her vibes, as well.” Craving contact, he cradled Sara’s face with his hands. It had been too many days since he had touched her.

  “She’s scary strong, but I guess you need to be in her world.”

  Her world. The way Sara said it seemed to imply that she didn’t consider herself a part of that world. She might not be in law enforcement, but she’d certainly gotten mixed up in another scary world.

  “You’re strong, too, amor.”

  She nodded. “I am, but maybe not strong enough to deal with all this every day. Besides, even if I was, and even though I care for you, I’m still not sure I can trust you.”

  He dropped his hands and looked down at the floor, fearful of what he would see on her face. “Because I lied.”

  “In part.” She swept back a lock of his hair that had fallen forward over his face. “I don’t know what you are. What you do. It frightens me.”

  She couldn’t have hurt him more if she had struck him.

  He stepped away from her, dragged his hands through his hair before whirling to face her. He wasn’t about to plead with her or to make excuses.

  “What I am is a good man who did what he had to.” He emphasized each point with an angry jab of his finger. “What I do is help people. That’s my calling in life and I couldn’t imagine not doing it.”

  In one quick stride he closed the gap between them once more, looming over her petite body. Someone else might have been afraid, of both the size of him and the obvious outrage vibrating through his body. But not Sara.

  Instead, she pulled back her shoulders like a bantam rooster fluffing its feathers to appear bigger. She laid her palm on the taut line of his jaw. “How do you do it?”

  Her
response tempered his, and with a tired sigh, he began to explain. “I’ve learned all kinds of techniques to help me boost my power. To let me store it and direct it to another person.”

  “Like you did the other night with my mami?”

  “Like that, only…” He hesitated before finally saying, “It’s hard to explain.”

  “Then show me.”

  She hadn’t just said that! Sara thought. But she had. Not that it mattered. There was absolutely no way that he would ever show her.

  “Come upstairs, then. I don’t want to do it here.”

  “Do it?” she repeated, hating the little squeak in her voice that gave away her discomfort. She looked around the shop. “Don’t you do it here all the time?”

  He shoved his hands in the pockets of his jeans and shrugged. The gesture pulled his sweater tight against those incredibly broad shoulders. “I normally do. I center myself here and gather what I need to. Only the other night, when you and I—”

  “Don’t bring that up now. It’s not about sex.”

  “You’re right. It isn’t. I was referring to what happened when we helped your mom. Something different occurred, and if it were to happen again…”

  Sara remembered the sensation the other night when she had helped him with her mother. The feel of his being within her, sharing his force with her mom, while taking some of hers to use, as well. And then there had come that moment when he’d severed himself from the two of them. More than anything she remembered her need for more. Her need to join with him again.

  If they connected once more…

  Sara now understood why he wanted it to be somewhere more private. “I’ll go with you.”

  He nodded and gestured for her to head up the stairs. Much as she had the first time, she felt as if this was another giant step into his world and further away from her own. But she went, needing to understand him and what he did.

  She prayed she could make sense of everything. Of what she wanted from him. With him.

  When they got to his living room, he moved past her to the coffee table and shifted it away from the couch. With the space clear, he sat cross-legged on the rug, his back resting against the couch.

  She stood before him for a moment, her determination faltering, but not for long. She slipped off her jacket and shoes, plopped down and likewise assumed a cross-legged position.

  He shifted so that their knees brushed and his hands, palms up, were within her reach. “Hold my hands.”

  She slipped hers into his. His palms were just the tiniest bit rough, hinting that he worked with his hands on occasion. They were warm, but unlike hers, not damp from nerves.

  “Close your eyes and relax,” he said.

  Doing as he asked, she shut her eyes, took a deep breath to calm her nerves.

  “That’s it. Deep breaths. In and out,” he instructed, the tone of his voice low and gentle.

  “Now I’m going to try and center myself. You may feel something while I do it. You may not. Just relax and go—”

  “With the flow,” she replied, as she sneaked a peek at him.

  He had risked a peek, as well, and was grinning at her. “No fair. Close your eyes.”

  She did so and let her breathing match the cadence of his. In a few moments her mind and body relaxed.

  A pleasant warmth began where their hands were joined. It drove away the nip of the early spring day and worked its way up her arms. Since it felt good, she didn’t fight the sensation, imagining how it would keep on moving up her body until it filled all of her. Made her as warm as she would be on a sunny beach.

  Behind her closed lids, the picture came to her almost as if she was there. Aqua-blue waters lapping against white sand. Her toes digging into that fine sand, which also sifted through her fingers as she lay on a soft towel. Sun warming her body, much like the warmth that now pooled in her center.

  Ricardo’s warmth.

  She didn’t know how she knew that. Only that it was like the caress of his hand on her skin. Gentle. Sure.

  Safe.

  Then suddenly, darkness skimmed along the periphery of her inner sight, bringing cold within her. She heard a voice in her head. “Help me get rid of it.”

  A vision came of the two of them, pushing at the darkness, forcing it away, and suddenly, they thrust it from them, bringing forth the sun and warmth once again. She felt secure.

  Something inside told her that she would always be safe with him beside her. The sensation was wondrous. Liberating. A sudden surge of power raced into the core of her, filling her with brilliance. It connected her to him, only, as she had expected earlier, she needed more.

  Daring to open her eyes, she realized he was sharing everything with her. He needed what she needed, which was to be closer to him.

  She eased into his lap and wrapped her legs around him, bringing them together intimately. At every point their bodies touched, the warmth she had felt earlier blazed ever higher, until she realized that every atom of their bodies seemed to be in sync. Each breath and heartbeat. The tension between them built, until the pressure was almost unbearable.

  Somehow she asked, “What is this?”

  “Tantric position. It’s the chakra points, the energy centers of the body…” His explanation faded as his voice grew rough, strained. “Sara.”

  At her name, she locked her gaze with his. She knew what he wanted—release. She nodded and he raised his hand, placed it directly above her heart. She did the same to him.

  That touch emancipated the power stored within them. His. Hers. The energy floating all around them. With a blinding blast of light, everything came together, and then like the tide, ebbed back. Again it shifted outward, then returned until it settled within her comfortably. Balanced and centered.

  “Dios mio,” she said when she could breathe once again.

  “That was amazing.”

  “This isn’t what you feel every time, is it?” she asked, and sank against him, the muscles and bones of her body feeling like jelly.

  He braced his hands on her spine and stroked her in a soothing gesture. “Not like this. The energy this time was unlike anything else I’ve ever experienced.”

  “Well, cosmic virgin that I am, I can only say, ‘Wow!’”

  “Yeah. Wow!”

  She sat there with him, recovering from the episode, but as the sensation from one thing ebbed, another rose up. Quite admirably, she thought. Between her legs, his erection nestled against her. In response, she became wet.

  “I’m sorry,” he said, and went to move away, but she gripped his shoulder to keep him in place.

  “Don’t apologize for what you feel. Especially since I’m feeling it, as well.”

  He traced the line of her cheek with one strong finger. “So what do we do?”

  Chapter 22

  I n answer, she reached down and unzipped his jeans. She dragged them down, exposing the length of him. As she stroked him, she watched his face, saw the way his eyes darkened and grew heavy-lidded. He licked his lips and she kissed him, running her tongue along his lips afterward.

  “Sara, this is crazy. I don’t know what I want.”

  “Liar,” she said, and took him into her mouth.

  He jerked as she sucked him, moaned when she circled the head of his penis with her tongue.

  Ricardo closed his eyes, nearly overwhelmed by the sensations she was creating. His hands were fisted on his thighs, resisting the urg
e to touch her, because if he did, he wouldn’t be able to stop. He wouldn’t be able to let her walk out the door again.

  But then suddenly, she moved away, kicked off her jeans. She was naked beneath, and when she straddled his lap again, he couldn’t resist.

  As she stroked him, her hands slipping up and down with the wetness from her earlier kiss, he found the center of her, easing first one finger inside her and then a second.

  Each caress brought them ever higher, until there was only one thing he wanted. That she wanted. And he gave it to her. He pulled her forward the last inch and settled her above the tip of his penis.

  Sanity came back for a moment and Ricardo reached for his wallet and a condom while Sara stroked him. A second later, she helped him sheathe himself.

  She eased the tip of him into her warmth and plunged downward, taking them both over the edge.

  He had no appointments for the rest of the day.

  She didn’t have to go back to work until later that night.

  It made perfect sense to them that they spend the time together.

  After they took a leisurely shower to clean up, and shared yet another session of lovemaking, Ricardo loaned Sara a robe, slipped one on himself and prepared breakfast. They sat side by side at the table, knees brushing. They couldn’t bear to be apart.

  She forked up some of the scrambled eggs and ate them. “Mmm. These are good,” she said.

  Spooning some hot salsa out of a jar, he generously covered his eggs with it. “Tasty,” he said, although the eggs, even with the spice of the salsa, tasted wooden in his mouth. Nothing could taste as good as the warm, wet tips of her breasts when he had sampled them in the shower.

  Because they couldn’t spend the rest of their lives having sex—not that he didn’t want to try—he forced his mind to other things.

  “What made you decide to be a nurse?” he asked, curious because they seemed to share so many things in common.