Touched by Darkness – An Urban Fantasy Romance (Book 1, The Sentinel Series)
Page 6
A target…Oh, God…
The Belian/trooper and Richard rolled around on the bloody street. The Belian was larger, and Richard was weakened from blood loss. Kara saw the sudden flash of a knife in the Belian’s hand, saw him plunge it into Richard’s chest. Saw her beloved jerk from the shock. Saw the knife go in again and again…
Pain slashed like a physical blow. She felt her knees go weak, reached out blindly to keep from falling.
“Kara! Are you all right?” A strong arm grasping her elbow steadied her and jolted her back to the present.
But the images lingered on the edges of her consciousness, like a nightmare in the darkest hours of the night. Only it hadn’t been a dream. It was real—the reality she’d faced seven years ago, and a powerful reminder she couldn’t allow Alex to be discovered. He would never become a statistic as Richard had, not while she had a breath in her body.
Playing ostrich hadn’t worked, and she could no longer selfishly avoid her personal pain. A new wave of emotion barreled through her—steel determination that she would do whatever it took to protect Alex. Anything—including accepting the help of a Sentinel, as much as she hated to.
“I want my son safe,” she demanded fiercely, staring up at Damien. “And I want your word on that, Sentinel.”
“You know there are no guarantees—”
“No!” she practically screamed. She dug her fingers into his sweater, pushed against him. “My son will be safe! Do you hear me?”
He clamped his hands over her wrists, pulled her hands to the side. “I will do everything in my power to protect Alex. That’s all I can promise.”
She hated his calmness in the midst of her mental chaos, hated the cool logic and total lack of emotions he displayed. But he was a Sentinel, trained to hunt and destroy evil, a killing machine. He wasn’t human, despite the mortal body he inhabited. Yet Richard had been different.
Richard was gone. And this man was Alex’s best chance for survival—at least for the time being.
She pulled her wrists free. “What are you proposing?”
“That you allow me to act as his mentor, providing basic instruction, until the Sanctioned can appoint a permanent one.”
“Leave the Sanctioned out of this,” she said sharply, a new concern wedging in with all the others. “I don’t want them involved. They might try to take Alex away from me.”
The resultant silence sent off warning bells and she looked at Damien in alarm. “Don’t tell me you’ve already told them.”
“I contacted my superior, Adam Masters, on Saturday, after I left your house. It was my duty to do so.”
Her body went rigid. She knew how the Sanctioned operated, knew they were merciless in their quest to defeat Belians, with no compunctions about sacrificing their own for what they considered the ‘higher cause’. And that would include Alex, if it suited them. “Why did you do that?”
“It was my sworn duty,” he repeated. “It had to be done.”
Of course it did, in his mind. Sentinels fulfilled their purpose of tracking Belians, and kept compete secrecy and order by adhering to a strict code of duty and honor. There was no gray in the Sentinel world—only black and white. Kara felt a sense of inevitability, like the moon’s pull on the tides.
The fight left her body. She turned and stared at the dissipating sunset. “You know, when Richard first told me he was a Sentinel, I thought he was joking. Up until then, he’d been so serious and down-to-earth.”
Except in bed. The sex had been amazing, electrifying, incredible bursts carrying them to the stars. Multiple orgasms that should have left her utterly exhausted, rather than burning to have Richard inside her again. It had been exhilarating—until he blew away her concept of reality.
They were in bed after a marathon lovemaking session, him on his back, with her curled against his side, when he dropped proverbial bomb. “Kara, there’s something I have to tell you. I’m …different. I’m not really human.”
“Hmmm, you can say that again. You’re definitely superhuman in some areas.”
“No, I’m serious. I’m a Sentinel. My soul originated in Atlantis. I came into this life to track Belians, other Atlantian souls, but very evil.”
Still seeing the moment as clearly as if it were yesterday, Kara pulled herself back from the memory. “Then, when I realized he was totally serious, I thought he was crazy.”
Damien shifted behind her. She was hyperaware of the heat and strength of his big body. Oddly enough, his presence was comforting. “I’m sure it’s a shock to realize the world is not as you envisioned it,” he said.
That was an understatement. She let out a ragged breath. “Yeah, it was a shock, all right.” She turned to face him. “There’s so much Richard didn’t tell me, like the fact that Sentinels are born to other Sentinels, although that’s a logical assumption. He also didn’t tell me that sometimes the good guys lose.” She pushed away the sharp rise of pain. “I guess he wanted to protect me from your world.”
“Just like you want to protect your son.” Understanding softened Damien’s harsh voice. “The best way to do that is to educate him.”
She hated it that he was so damn right. “That doesn’t mean the Sanctioned need to come anywhere near Alex. You’re the only one I want working with him.”
His face remained impassive. “I will suggest they let me handle this without interference, at least for the time being. That’s the best I can do.”
Kara didn’t like it, but it was better than nothing. A Sentinel’s word was pure gold. She turned and walked to the opposite side of the porch, letting the cool air wash over her like a blast of chilling reality. “I want you to show Alex only how to control his powers. I think we should hold off giving him information about the Sentinels.”
“He already knows he’s a Sentinel.”
Damien’s voice was right behind her. Startled, she whirled and found herself facing his chest. She kept forgetting how quickly and quietly they moved. But it was impossible to forget the ever-present chemistry that sizzled between Sentinel and conductor.
She took a step back, angled her chin to meet his gaze. “He’s not ready for this. And neither am I. I’m asking you to hold off for a while. And I want to be present whenever you’re with him.
He stared at her a long moment, his features hard. Finally he nodded. “All right. We’ll work on Alex controlling his powers and shielding himself. For now.”
Kara blew out a sigh of relief. She’d won this battle, but knew she faced an entire war. A war against beings who had been a part of Earth, off and on, for thousands of years.
But go to war she would, if it would keep Alex from the abyss.
* * * *
“Who is that man?” Luz demanded the minute Kara came inside and closed the door, bolting it for good measure—although as Damien had already demonstrated, locks were no defense against a Sentinel—or a Belian. “I have never seen him around before. ¿Quién es él?”
Kara held up a hand to stop Luz’s tirade as she waited to be sure Damien was gone. When she heard the sound of a car starting and driving away, she slumped against the door, feeling as if she’d just run a marathon.
“Who is that man?” Luz asked again. “And why was he talking to Alex?”
Kara mentally scrambled for an explanation that would sound plausible. “Damien Morgan is a writer for a magazine. He— He was an associate of Alex’s father.”
Luz sniffed. “He’s very arrogant. I didn’t like the way he just barged in here, and then refused to leave.”
“I don’t want him here, or anywhere near Alex, unless I’m around,” Kara said firmly. “If he shows up again when I’m not home, don’t let him in, and call me immediately.”
Luz nodded her agreement. “There’s something about him,” she mused. “Not quite evil, but dangerous…and powerful. Muy machisto.”
“He’s interested in Alex, partly because of his association with Richard,” Kara said, hoping to distr
act Luz from her musings. As a curandera, a folk healer, Luz moved in a culture that often dealt in superstitions and believed in evil spirits. She was highly intuitive, and Kara didn’t want her sensing anything unusual about Damien. “He might be spending some time with us,” she added.
“He could be a threat to you personally,” Luz said, “You need to stay away from him.”
“I’m not worried about that,” Kara said, although that was only a half truth. She turned toward the kitchen and the enticing smells of food cooking, but she didn’t think she could eat anything. “Where’s Alex?”
“I sent him to his room to watch TV.” Luz leaned the baseball bat in the corner beside the front door. “I did not want him to hear you arguing with that man. He is very sensitive.”
“I’m glad you thought to do that.” For the hundredth time, Kara wondered how much Luz had discerned about Alex.
It was probably unwise to have an intuitive curandera taking care of him after school, but Luz loved children, and she was great with Alex. Kara preferred that arrangement over daycare, because Alex was so sensitive to the emotions of the other children. And it was heavenly to come home to a clean house and a cooked meal on weekdays.
She sighed, questioning the wisdom of many of her decisions over the years. But there would two things she could never regret: the love she and Richard had shared, and having Alex.
“Your dinner is ready,” Luz announced, getting her red leather coat and matching purse off the wall rack. “My sister has my truck, but I called her five minutes ago, so she should be here.” She looked at her watch. “I have a…an appointment.”
Kara suddenly realized that her working late and then the altercation with Damien had kept Luz past her usual departure time. “I’m sorry I delayed you. Would your appointment happen to be a hot date with a certain rancher by the name of Matt Brown?”
Luz smiled her Mona Lisa smile. “Perhaps.”
Luz and Matt had been dating off and on for a number of years. They’d met when she was seventeen and had gone to work as a housekeeper at his family’s luxurious home. Kara suspected that Luz had stronger feelings for Matt than he had for her.
There was a soft knocking on the door, and Luz opened it. Her sister Serafina stood there. Although younger than Luz, she was taller and larger boned, with less refined features that made her look older. But she had the same vivid coloring and beautiful skin. She was a waitress at a Hispanic bar on the outskirts of town, and had a reputation for going out with a lot of men.
Kara didn’t know her very well, but had always liked her. She was quiet and polite, and talked to Alex whenever she saw him. She and Luz came from a large family, and they both seemed to adore children.
“Hello, Serafina,” Kara said. “How are you?”
“Hola. I am well.”
“She is working too many hours.” Luz slipped on her coat, pulling her long, shimmering hair free. The coat’s red hue enhanced her stunning dark hair and eyes. “Hasta mañana.” She turned toward the hallway, raised her voice. “Alex, I am leaving. Adiós, hijo.”
“Bye Luz,” came a faint, little-boy voice.
“You watch out for that man,” Luz told Kara, then with a swirl of her coat, she was gone, trailing a scent of cinnamon and something rich and provocative. Serafina nodded good-bye and followed.
Luz must have a really hot date with Matt, Kara thought, closing the door behind her. For a moment, she rested her head against the wood, feeling drained and exhausted. But an entire evening stretched ahead of her, filled with the mundane and comforting rituals that made up the fabric of their lives—dinner, homework, talking about their day. And she had to tell Alex that Damien would be coming tomorrow night. With a sigh, she straightened and turned, calling out, “Alex, it’s time for dinner. Wash your hands and come on.”
His bedroom door opened a crack. “Ah, Mom, Home Improvement is on.”
He loved television, perhaps too much, but then he didn’t have many friends outside those on his soccer team. In addition to science fiction, he really liked shows about families—those with a father, a mother, and kids (especially the ones where there were siblings). Kara felt the familiar regret that Alex had never had a normal family life.
Her mother and stepfather lived in northern Alabama, a fifteen-hour drive from Zorro, and he only saw them two or three times a year. Her only sibling, her brother Dan, lived in Oregon with his family; they were lucky to see him once a year. Kara had never met any of Richard’s family, didn’t even know how to contact them. So she and Alex were pretty much on their own.
“It’s already late, and I need to talk to you,” she answered. “So cut it off and get out here.”
“All right,” he said, managing to sound grievously put upon.
He shuffled into the kitchen a few moments later as she was putting their food on the table and pouring his milk.
“Mom, why was that man here again?”
She turned to answer, but could only stare at her son. Had he ever been a child? He was always so intent, so serious, seemed so far beyond his years. Standing there, watching her solemnly, he looked just like Richard. God, so much like Richard.
She went to him, dropped to her knees and hugged him against her tightly.
“Mom!” he protested, his voice muffled against her chest.
She loved him so much. He was her heart, her soul, her world, and all she had left of Richard.
“Mom! You’re hugging me too hard!”
“Sorry.” She loosened her hold a little. “Have I told you today that I love you?”
Most six-year-old boys would have been embarrassed, but Alex seemed to sense her angst. “I love you, too, Mom.”
“You’d better.” Reluctantly, she released him. “Let’s eat.”
“Yeah!” he said enthusiastically. “Luz made an apple pie for dessert.”
Kara forced herself to smile. “Yum. I guess we’ll have to have some ice cream with that.”
“All right!” Alex crowed and headed for the table.
For the moment, Kara thought, they were back in an ordinary, comforting routine. But the sense of normalcy and safety was now a facade. While she was determined to hang on to the life she and Alex had as long as possible, and to keep him safe, she knew they were teetering precariously…
Near the touch of darkness.
CHAPTER FIVE
At six o’clock the next evening, Damien pulled into the gravel driveway, behind Kara’s truck. He sat there a few moments, staring at the white frame house, elevated on the pier-and-beam foundation so common in this part of Texas. Wide cement steps leading up the wraparound porch were painted country blue, as were the shutters. Neatly trimmed shrubs lined the front. Like Kara’s office, the house was well kept and homey. He climbed out of the car and shut the door.
The dog appeared at the chain-link gate at the end of the driveway and went into his frenzied barking routine. Damien didn’t bother with silencing him. He would see that the animal remained outside during the session with Alex.
He went up the walkway. Purple and yellow pansies lined both sides of the last third and skirted gaily around the steps to the porch. The plant beds were weed-free and covered with shredded bark. Sudden memories of his childhood home surged into his mind. His father had been an avid handy man, puttering around their duplex in central New York, keeping both home and yard immaculate.
As a young boy, Damien had loved hanging out with his dad, watching him work on some weekend project. Dad often let him help, showing him how to dig flower beds and fertilize plants, how to hammer nails, and even letting him paint things. Although reserved with everyone else, Damien had talked to his father about everything. His father had known and accepted what he was, and he didn’t have to hide his abilities when he was with his dad. It had been an uncomplicated, blissful time in his life, free of the worries of the world.
But those idyllic times had ended abruptly with the destructive violence inherent to Se
ntinel existence.
Taken aback at this emotional slippage, Damien shook off his thoughts, forcing them behind a self-imposed barrier. He couldn’t think about the past, couldn’t afford to indulge in memories or emotional sentiments. He would not entertain thoughts that might distract him in any way from his life’s mission. Nor would he ever allow emotional attachments. They led to mistakes, errors in judgment—and ultimately, tragedy and pain.
As Damien reached the top of the steps, the attractive Hispanic housekeeper came out the front door. She was wearing a red leather coat and carrying a purse, so he assumed she was leaving.
Her gaze narrowed when she saw him, and she leaned back inside. “Kara, that man is here. Do you want me to call the policía?”
She obviously didn’t like Kara’s answer; she frowned and whirled from the door, leaving it open. Glaring at Damien, she stalked past him. “Good evening to you, too,” he murmured, but got only a spate of rapid Spanish that didn’t sound friendly.
He pondered her strange reaction as he entered the house. Most women didn’t have that response to him. Usually he was the one who had to maintain his distance. Not only that, but he sensed a different sort of energy from the young woman, one that was unfamiliar and intriguing. He didn’t think it was shielded Belian energy, but decided it might be well to keep a close eye on her.
Kara met him in the living room. She was wearing a soft sweater in a shade of blue that brought out the color of her eyes, and a pair of worn jeans that hugged her gently curving hips. Damien might have self-imposed mental barriers and preternatural abilities, but he was still a flesh and blood man, and not immune to the allure of an attractive woman.
Especially not to the allure of a woman who was also a precisely matched conductor, as evidenced by the strong sexual rush he felt when Kara reached him. But he had years of experience in controlling his reactions and ruthlessly forced his responding body into submission.
Kara obviously felt the spark, too, but didn’t have the practice he’d had in controlling his body, as evidenced by the puckering of her nipples through the sweater. Damn, the woman wasn’t wearing a bra. Not that it mattered, he told himself firmly. The energy snapping between them was a good thing, one that would help him track the Belian in Zorro.