Dare took the man’s hand—and accepted the offer to touch and increase his reading. He flinched, not because of the relief still searing into Liam Brooks, but because of the intensity of it.
The reason for it.
Dare was dimly aware of Liam releasing his hand. It didn’t matter—he was still feeling it. All of it. He knew why Liam had wanted that DNA—his DNA. Not because Agent Brooks suspected him of murder, but because Liam Brooks shared a connection—the most intimate of connections—with a woman who had also shared the same womb as Dare. So much made sense now. The gnawing void he’d felt his entire life. The inexplicable knowledge that it wasn’t supposed to be. That he wasn’t supposed to be alone. That cry in the night months before.
His tattoo most of all.
“I have a sister.”
Liam nodded. “Danielle Caldwell, now Brooks. We were recently married. I’m sorry you couldn’t be there. And I’m sorry I was such a hard-ass. Now that you know, I think you’ll understand why I needed to be certain what kind of a man you were before I told you about Dani. We’ll have to get you two together once it’s safe.”
Safe.
Son of a bitch. “Titan.” That cry. Something else he’d felt inside Liam made sense. “Dani has a son. A son who was taken from her. I heard the cry in my sleep, woke up in a cold sweat, but the impression was gone by then. The boy, he’s okay now, right?” He had to be. His initial reading of Liam Brooks might have been short-lived, but it had been thorough. Brooks was not the sort of man to shun the child of the woman he loved, even if that child was not of his own blood. Nor was he the sort of man who could be this content with his home life if that child was still missing. Liam’s nod confirmed it.
“His name is Alex. And yes, Titan kidnapped him. Dani, too. But they’re both safe now. Titan’s moved on. He’s had to. It’s you I’m worried about now.”
“What about the other triplet?”
Dare felt Liam’s shock even before it snapped up the man’s spine, stiffening it. “Triplet?”
“Of course. Isn’t that how you knew to look for me?”
Liam shook his head. “No. I found you because I was following Titan’s trail. I wouldn’t even be in New York if it wasn’t for Van Heusen and that drug. When I showed up to talk to Pike, he had your juvie record out on his desk. The man’s convinced you’re up to no good, by the way. Hate to defend the ass, but you can’t really blame him.”
“I know.” He didn’t.
How many times had he passed a detective on the street consumed by the perp that got away? A detective who’d labored for years over a cold case, sometimes even knowing the rapist or murderer, but unable to touch the bastard due to lack of evidence, or worse, a perp who got off on a technicality? No, he didn’t blame Pike. Pike might be a bastard and a half, but he was also a decent cop with scars of his own. It was the only reason Dare had never pushed it. “So that’s how you found me? He showed you my picture and it reminded you of Dani?”
Brooks nodded. “Alex especially. You were older in the picture than the boy, but you’re a ringer for him. The DNA I took from that glass confirmed it. Dani is your sister and she is a triplet. But Dare, she has another brother and a sister, as well. They’re all older than you by three years.”
Good Lord. Dare swallowed his shock. The budding hope. “Just how many siblings do I have?”
“I don’t know. Until I saw your mug shot, I thought Dani had just the two. What about you? Dani mentioned once that she heard an infant cry when she was young, but the memory’s fuzzy. She has no idea exactly what she heard, much less who it was. Are you sure you’re a triplet? Did your parents tell you? Someone who knew you before you were adopted?”
“No.” Far from it. “I told myself. When I was seventeen, I visited a tattoo parlor to commemorate climbing that mountain you had in your hands. I ended up with this.” Dare peeled his T-shirt off so the agent could get a better look. From the confusion on the man’s face, Dare could tell Liam didn’t know any more about the trinity symbol than Dare had when he’d first seen it—despite the driving need to brand it into his chest, directly over his heart.
“What is it?”
“A triquetra. It means trinity. Three-in-one. Deep down, I always suspected I was a triplet. But if Dani’s my sister and she’s a triplet, perhaps it’s meant to represent them.”
Liam nodded. “Perhaps.”
But they were thinking the same thing. What if it wasn’t? What if there was another set of triplets? Where did it end?
“How about your folks? Have they ever shed any light on your adoption?”
Dare shook his head. “No. And they won’t. My father knows nothing. He never wanted to, much less wanted me. He still doesn’t. As for my mother, all I know is that she purchased me. I have no idea from whom or even where. She must have paid the seller well because there’s no trail. Whatever she knew, she took to her grave.”
“I’m sorry.”
Dare shrugged. There were only two people capable of easing that particular pain, and one was dead. The other might have decided not to flee the penthouse after all, but she was only marking time inside his bedroom, trying to absorb the shock and the violation as she waited for Liam to leave so she could question him more about her brother, about what he’d done to Brian and how she might be able to reverse it. After that, Abby had every intention of leaving, too.
He couldn’t blame her.
He had violated her. Over and over. Without her knowledge, let alone her permission. He could feel her questioning her feelings for him even now. Wondering if they truly were her feelings. They were. But damned if he knew how to prove it.
Brooks cleared his throat. “I, uh, apologize for that, too. Didn’t mean to catch you by the short hairs in front of your, uh, neighbor.”
Dare didn’t correct the term. This morning he would have. This evening he didn’t know what he and Abby were anymore. Or if they had a chance of getting back to where they’d been. But the blame wasn’t Liam’s. “It’s not your fault. I should have told her. I intended to. But I didn’t know how to say it.”
The man nodded sagely. “It’s a conversation stopper, I’ll give you that.”
“Then Dani’s an empath, too?”
“No. She has the gift of intuition. Her sister, Elizabeth, is telekinetic. According to Dani, their brother, Anthony, can manipulate electrical energy. As far as I know, your gift is unique.”
“Gift.” Dare shook his head. “Try curse.”
Liam fell silent. Dare didn’t even bother trying to convince him otherwise. How could he? Liam had read that police report. How could knowing something like that was about to happen and not being able to prevent it ever be anything but a curse?
“Liam, I—” Dare cut himself off as the man’s cell phone shrilled. He waited as the guy reached beneath his suit jacket and withdrew the phone from his waist.
Liam frowned as he noted the number, then returned the phone to his belt unanswered. “It’s Pike. I’m late for a meeting with the guy.”
“You need to go.”
“Yeah. It’s probably a good thing, though. I imagine you’ve got some explaining to do.”
That he did.
“For what it’s worth, good luck. I hope it works out.” Liam turned to head for the door.
“Wait.”
Dare pulled his T-shirt back on, then reached up to unhook the picture of Mauna Loa from the wall, turning the frame and placing the picture on the floor before he set about retrieving the two plastic bags he’d secreted beneath a razor slit in the picture’s backing. He met Liam at the door and held out the bag containing a card. “This may have come from the guy you’re after. It was sent to the symphony the evening of the attack along with a bunch of calla lilies from Flowers by Delilah. Unfortunately, the lilies were ordered over the phone. Cash and the note were delivered by a kid. I’ve got a streetwise associate on it, but he hasn’t had any luck tracking the kid down. Maybe you’ll have more.”
/> Liam took the bag. He flipped it over and studied the oddly compelling pastoral scene on the reverse. “It’s Titan’s. It’s his twisted idea of a calling card. Dani got one. Senator Gregory, as well. I got one. There’ve been a few others.”
Damn. “Despite the plastic, you probably won’t have luck with prints. It’s been handled quite a bit.”
Liam shook his head. “It won’t matter. We’ll try, but Titan hasn’t left any yet. Bastard’s too smart.” Liam tipped his head toward the second bag. “What’s in there?”
“A note I received. The envelope, too. One line, typed. But this one’s on our side. He or she has to be.”
“What’s it say?”
“‘He who seeks to destroy your heart also seeks you.’” Dare flipped the bag over, displaying the triquetra on the reverse. “It matches my tattoo right down to the size. A tattoo I’ve never advertised, by the way. And, as you pointed out so succinctly, I have few friends. Certainly none close enough to reproduce it.”
Again interest flared within the man.
“What’s it mean?” But Dare knew. Everything Liam Brooks had revealed tonight confirmed his initial suspicions. Someone had been trying to warn him that he and Abby were in danger. Someone who knew what Abby meant to him, perhaps before he’d first felt Abby’s essence. Whoever sent the warning had probably included the tattoo to ensure his attention.
Liam nodded his agreement.
Dare passed the second bag over, as well. “Do you know who sent it?”
This time Liam shook his head. “No. Dani received a similar warning, though. Hers came from a fortune-teller who warned her that ‘Those who walk alone are the first to fall.’ But I haven’t been able to locate the fortune-teller to question her, much less confirm—” The guy’s phone shrilled again. Liam retrieved it, checked the number and cursed. “Pike. Man’s worse than a pit bull with a bone.”
“Or an empath’s leg.”
Liam grinned. “I think I like you. Good thing. For a while there, I was afraid I was going to have to beat the crap out of you or arrest you. Think of the reception I’d get at home after that.” His grin faded as he held up the plastic bags. “May I?”
Dare nodded. “Just keep me posted.”
“Will do.” The guy tucked the bags inside his suit jacket and turned to the door once more, then stopped. He turned back and reached into his trouser pocket, this time surfacing with his wallet. He pulled out a card and passed it over. Only it wasn’t a card. It was a picture of a woman and a boy around five or six. Unlike that sketch, both faces were hauntingly familiar…and yet not.
His sister. His nephew.
Liam was right. The kid was a ringer for him at that age.
A knot lodged in the middle of Dare’s throat. His hand actually shook. He memorized their faces and passed the photo back before he embarrassed himself.
Liam waved him off. “Keep it. I can get another. Hang on to it until I can arrange a visit. Oh—” He retrieved the sketch of Titan. “I’ve got another copy of this, too. Show it to Abby for me, will you? If she recognizes the guy, you’ve got my number. If not, I’ll be calling you soon enough.”
Dare took the sketch, shifting it and the photo of his new-found sister to his left hand. He held out his right.
As before, the true nature of Liam Brooks flooded him as they shook. But this time Dare was able to feel more than his sister and her son. Curious, he delved deeper until he felt another woman in this man’s life. Another child. He also felt the keening loss that still surrounded their memories. The guilt. Guilt that belonged not to the man standing in front of him, but to Titan.
Dare tightened his grip momentarily and did what he should have done with Abby. He asked.
Liam agreed.
It took several more moments, and he couldn’t quite get it all, but eventually he was able to ease the worst of Liam’s pain and loss, leaving the good behind. He absorbed the guilt next, but left the ironclad determination. Not only was the man clinging to it fiercely, they’d all need it.
Liam withdrew his hand, thanked him quietly and left.
Dare was still standing at the open door, attempting to realign his equilibrium, when Abby gathered up her nerve and left his bedroom. He opened his eyes as she reached the center of his living room and forced himself to see her through them, and only them. Sometimes it worked if there were but one or two others in the room, at most a handful. But with her, the attempt failed. Miserably. He could still feel her heart breaking along with his.
It gave him hope.
Like him, she desperately wanted to go back to last night. To this morning. To them. But she was scared. And as usual, he stunk at words. One touch, and he could show her. But he couldn’t risk it. He wouldn’t. She had been serious earlier.
She didn’t want him inside her.
Though it nearly killed him to remain apart from her essence, he honored the request. That just left the physical need. His own body’s reaction to the damp streaks still staining her reddened cheeks. The tears still clinging to her lashes. The single plump drop that spilled over and slid to a halt just shy of the corner of her quivering lips.
“You heard. You saw.”
“I—” She stopped, then drew her breath in deep and started again. “I don’t know what I saw. What to think. If I’m even sane. And if I am…I don’t know what I feel. If it’s really me, you know?”
He nodded. “I know. Abby, I know this is a shock. And God knows I could have handled it better.”
“Then why didn’t you?”
“Because you get to me, affect me, in ways no one else ever has. In ways I don’t understand. Ways I can’t control. When we’re together, when we touch, I can’t see past you. I can’t feel past you. If you’re not happy, I’m not happy. If you feel excitement, passion or joy, then I feel it. It’s…”
“Frightening?”
“Yeah.” Terrifying.
“I know.”
She did. He’d felt that inside her all along. It was why she too had been fighting what was happening between them. She’d been scared to fall for him and find out he was just like Van Heusen. Only, what she got was worse.
“Honey, I know there’s nothing I can—”
Terror slammed in. Hard. Deep. He stiffened as he tried to absorb it. Jesus, Mary and Joseph. What the hell was that? Who was that? He opened his mouth, but nothing came out. It was as if the words themselves had been torn from his tongue before he could form them. All he could do was feel the stark, roiling horror. Before he could recover, Abby had vaulted across the remaining yard of carpet and grabbed his arm.
“What is it? What’s wrong?”
The second she touched him, the terror exploded within every receptor in his body. The horror consumed him. Somewhere amid the fiery depths he finally found his voice—only to have it rip free on a base curse along with half the carefully constructed mental defenses it had taken him years to erect.
There was only one explanation.
Abby was acting as an emotional conduit. And that meant the source was—
“Brian.”
“What?”
“Your brother. He’s in danger.”
He felt her own terror skyrocket, even as she tried to convince herself that, empath or not, he couldn’t possibly know what he was talking about from halfway across the city. Part of him wanted to take the time to convince her, to soothe her fear. But he didn’t have time. Brian didn’t have time. He did the next best thing. Dare asked the one question he knew she’d answer. “Honey, I know you’re furious with me, but you believe me. You trust me, right?”
“Absolutely.”
“Then let’s go.” With that, he grabbed her hand and hauled her out of the apartment with him.
Chapter 11
She’d always wondered how she was going to die.
Earlier in the day, clinging to that cliff as that boulder had come crashing down, Abby was certain she’d been about to meet her maker. She’d been wrong. She wa
s going to die right now—on the back of a souped-up motorcycle from Dare’s racing days with her aching arms clamped about the man’s waist, her eyes squeezed shut and her face pressed into the iron muscles of his back as they roared through the darkened streets of New York City, cutting in and out of bumper-to-bumper traffic with hair-whitening precision. If the next car didn’t get her, her skyrocketing terror would.
Because Brian wasn’t the only one in danger. Marlena and Stephen were in trouble, too.
Dare had figured that out, too—after he’d tossed her his cell phone and ordered her to call her friend’s house as they tore out of the Tristan’s stairwell and into the garage, her lungs still blistering and her legs quaking from a trip that would have taken a quarter of the time if an elevator had been available when she’d called for it. But it hadn’t been. Neither had Marlena. Confused when she couldn’t get her friend’s number to ring, she’d passed the phone to Dare, only to receive the worst pronouncement possible as he fired up his bike.
Marlena’s line had been cut.
A split second later Dare had jammed the phone into his pocket and swung her up onto the motorcycle behind him. A fishtailing trip through the garage, and they were on the street, sucking in the city’s nauseating exhaust along with half the Upper West Side. Ten seconds later they’d come within kissing distance of their first city bus. She’d slammed her eyelids down then and shoved her face deep into the security of Dare’s back, determined to suffer the remaining honking horns, whiplashing twists and turns and stomach-lurching bumps in ignorant darkness.
Dare had saved her brother twice already. Once she’d recovered from the shock of discovering that not only did empaths exist, but that the man she’d fallen for was one, she’d realized that Dare had done more than save her brother from that monster. Dare had saved Brian from himself. She still didn’t understand it yet, but she would. For now, she squeezed her lids harder, held on tighter as she prayed Dare would pull off another miracle.
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