Firestorm

by Iris Johansen

  “Us?”

  “I want my sister, Rosa, with me.” Her hands clenched on the sheet. “I promised her.”

  “And how old is Rosa?”

  “Twelve.”

  “Then she's a minor just as you are,” Kerry said. “The courts aren't going to let her leave your mother. They'll probably insist on you returning.”

  “No!” She drew a deep breath. “I'm not going back.”

  “Why not?”

  “I don't have to tell you anything. I just don't want to.”

  “That's not an acceptable reason.”

  “She won't want me back. I was in the way.” She moistened her lips. “Rosa's in the way too. She's better off with me.”

  “Why is she in the way?”

  “She just is.” She gazed at Kerry defiantly. “Now, you find out if you can get that money out of that warehouse owner. But don't tell my mother.”

  “Because she'd take it?” Silver asked.

  “I didn't say that,” Carmela said. “Don't you try to get my mother in trouble. None of this is her fault.”

  “Then whose fault is it?” Kerry asked.

  “The boyfriend,” Silver said suddenly. “What's his name? Don . . . Harvey?”

  Carmela eyes widened. “How the hell do you know about Don?”

  Kerry glanced at Silver.

  He shrugged. “The police had to go to the apartment to inform your mother about what happened to you. Harvey lives with your mother. Right?”

  She hesitated. “Yes.”

  “And that's the reason you left home.”

  “It's not her fault. She needs someone and she can't help—She's lonely. We're not enough for her.”

  “You don't like him?”

  She glared at him. “I don't want to answer any questions about Mom and Don.”

  “Your mother's not here. She's had plenty of time to make the trip after she was told you were injured.”

  “She's got a job. They probably wouldn't let her off work.”

  Kerry was beginning to actively dislike Carmela's mother. “I'm sure you're right.”

  “I don't want to talk anymore.” Carmela closed her eyes. “If you want to help, you just see if you can get me that money.”

  “We do want to help,” Kerry said gently. “You rest and do what the staff tells you and we'll see what we can do.” She gestured to Silver as she started for the door. “Maybe there's a way out for Rosa.”

  “You don't have to find a way out. I found it. I'll take care of my sister. If you can't get her out, I will.” Carmela's eyes opened as the door started to close behind them. “Now, you find me money to support her.”

  “What happened with her mother?” Kerry asked Silver as they walked down the hall. “I assume you didn't find out about her boyfriend from George or Ledbruk?”

  He shook his head. “It's all she can think about right now. She's worried about her sister.”

  “Let me guess. Her mother's boyfriend raped Carmela?”

  He nodded. “And her mother wouldn't believe her when she told her. She didn't want her relationship jeopardized by an uncomfortable truth. Carmela took off two days later, but she's afraid for her younger sister.”

  Kerry felt sick. “She's only twelve.”

  “And Carmela is fifteen. Not much difference.”

  Kerry shook her head. “But refusing to face facts and rejecting a daughter who's been hurt are two different things. I can't believe she didn't come when the authorities told her that Carmela was here.”

  “Believe it. She made her choice. In her eyes, Carmela was trying to destroy her relationship with Harvey. She's probably built up an entire scenario for herself why she was better off without Carmela. I'd bet in her mind Carmela is a liar and a threat and deserves to be cast out.”

  “Some mother.”

  He smiled. “Some women aren't as maternal as you are, Kerry.”

  “Then some women should be tarred and feathered. It's common decency to do the—” She stopped. There was no use giving in to anger. “You know, children are so vulnerable. And they hate believing their parents are scum. I'll bet Carmela will fight to protect her mother to the last breath.”

  “No bet. She's very loyal.”

  “We're getting Rosa out of that house.”

  “Yes.”

  “And we're finding a place for Carmela where she'll be safe.”

  “Yes.”

  She grimaced. “You were going to do it anyway, weren't you?”

  “Was I?”

  “Yes, you feel a certain . . . closeness with her. For all your claims of keeping detached, you weren't able to do it with her. I wonder how often you manage it.”

  “Ah, you've found me out. Busted.”

  “You're joking, but I'm not.” She met his gaze directly. “I found out tonight that this thing between us isn't one-sided. It couldn't stay that way when you're so attuned to me that I can't take a breath without you knowing how deep. I doubt if you'll ever let me take that peek you promised, but it may not be necessary.”

  His smile faded. “No?”

  “No. I'm beginning to read you.” She pressed the elevator button. “But this isn't the time to explore the situation. We have Carmela and her sister to worry about, and I'm not even sure Trask won't try to kill her again when he finds out that she's still alive.”

  “I'm not either. I've called and asked Ledbruk to put a guard in front of her room. He said he was on his way.” He stepped aside to let her go first as the elevator doors opened. “Is that good enough?”

  “Do you mean is Trask anywhere around?” She shook her head. “Nowhere near. I don't know how far out this psychic radar goes, but he's not in the hospital.”

  “You're very sure.” His brows lifted. “Do I detect confidence at last?”

  “It's about time.” She leaned wearily back against the wall of the elevator as it started down. “Trask practically drowned me in his filth tonight. I either had to survive and deal with it or go bananas. Hell, yes, I'm confident. I may not be able to jump into anyone else's mind like you do, but I'm getting to be an expert on Trask.”

  “That's good. That's all that's important.” He pressed her shoulder. “Now forget about him for a while—if he'll let you.”

  “He'll let me. Until he finds out Carmela's alive. He won't like losing status in my eyes by not completing what he promised. Carmela was the challenge and he failed.”

  “Then on the whole, the night's not been a total wash.”

  She shook her head. “No, because I found out something else while I was wading in that muck he calls a mind.”

  “What?”

  “The name of the legman he uses to set up his kills is Dickens.”

  Dickens,” George repeated. “What a fine literary name for a piece of crap. It hardly seems fair, does it?”

  “I'm not concerned about fairness,” Kerry said as she took the leash off Sam. “Certainly not in the abstract. All I want you to do is find out what you can about him. You haven't done very well with this Helen.”

  “You're accusing me of inefficiency? You stab me to the heart. But I'll forgive you since you've obviously been under a great strain. By the way, how is our young Carmela?”

  “She was sleeping when we left the hospital,” Silver said. “I'm sure she'll be fine.”

  “I'll take your word for it.” George turned and headed for the library. “And I'll give this bit of information on Dickens to Ledbruk right away. You wouldn't like to tell me where you got it, would you?”

  “No.”

  “I didn't think so. I'll tell Ledbruk it was a trusted but anonymous informant. He won't like it, but he hasn't liked much about this assignment.” He disappeared into the library.

  Kerry made a face. “Well, this trusted and anonymous informant is going up to bed.” She looked around the foyer. “Where did Sam go?”

  “He was heading for the kitchen.” Silver smiled. “I think you can assume he'll take care of himself.”

>   “That's a given.” She started slowly up the stairs. Lord, she was tired. “I just wanted to make sure he wouldn't be in anyone's way.”

  “He won't be. Sam knows he's got a home here.”

  “Does he?” She yawned. “Yeah, Sam thinks he's welcome anywhere. You'll let me know if George finds anything about Dickens?”

  “Of course. Good night, Kerry.”

  She glanced back at him. He looked exhausted. He'd gone through just as much stress as she had. Perhaps more. She had no idea what kind of tension he'd undergone trying to get Carmela to jump off that roof. “Aren't you going to bed?”

  “Soon. I have to call Gillen.”

  “Can't it wait until tomorrow?”

  “Could Carmela have waited until tomorrow?”

  “You can't heal the entire world, Silver.”

  “No, but I can put on a Band-Aid or two.” He turned away. “I'll see you in the morning.”

  A Band-Aid.

  Not likely. There was no question he'd saved Carmela's life. And maybe by calling Gillen, he might save the man's sanity. She'd never thought about the awesome responsibility Silver faced every time he stepped in to “fix” someone. It must be a little like playing God with no divine safety net to fall back on. He was just a man trying to come to terms with a talent he'd never asked for and didn't want.

  She felt an overwhelming sadness as she started up the stairs again. Christ, stop thinking about him. Waking or sleeping, he was occupying too much of her thoughts. She didn't need the burden of feeling herself bleed for him at a time when she was so weary she could barely function.

  Rest. Sleep. And, for God's sake, don't dream of Silver.

  Jagged teeth tearing, mutilating.

  Swirling blackness.

  Agony.

  Silver. She had to get to Silver.

  Kerry threw the covers back and ran for the door.

  In less than a minute she was down the hall and throwing open his bedroom door. He was still fully dressed, sitting on the side of the bed, staring down at the telephone. “Silver, what's the—”

  And then she knew. “Gillen?” she whispered.

  He didn't glance up. “I couldn't get in touch with him. I've been trying all night. I finally reached his father. Gillen hanged himself last night.”

  “Dear God.” She walked slowly toward him. “I'm so sorry, Silver.”

  “Me too.” He cleared his throat. “I thought I had a chance with him. But it's not as if it's the first time I've lost someone. It goes with the territory. You win some, you lose some. I got used to—”

  “Shut up.” She knelt down on the floor in front of him, her arms sliding around his waist. “Stop mouthing all that philosophic nonsense. Do you think I don't know what you're feeling?” She pressed her cheek to his chest. “And you've got to stop hurting. I don't think I can take much more. You're not to blame for Gillen's death. Why would you believe that?”

  “I knew he was spiraling downward,” he said dully. “I should have gone to see him. I should have kept in closer contact.”

  “Jesus, every time I turned around you were on the phone with Gillen. It's not as if you abandoned him.”

  “No.” His hand was stroking the back of her head. “But I did make a choice. I thought Carmela's problem was more urgent. Or maybe I thought my revenge was more important. Who the hell knows?”

  “I know.” She sat back on her heels to look up at him. “Who should know better? It seems I know you better than I do myself.” She tried to smile. “You saw to that.”

  “I did, didn't I?” His mouth tightened. “I didn't have too much control there either.”

  “Oh, for God's sake. I didn't mean—”

  “I know.” He was silent a moment and then shrugged. “Sorry. If I remember correctly, I told you that self-pity wasn't allowed, and I seem to be drowning in it. I guess it's a case of do what I say, not what I do. But it's over now, so you can go back to bed and try to—”

  “Bullshit.” She jumped to her feet. “It's not over.” She went around the bed, pulled down the sheet, and lay down. “And I'm not leaving you. So turn out the light and lie down.”

  He went still. “I beg your pardon?”

  “Lie down.”

  “Why? Is this some kind of bizarre sexual therapy?”

  “Trust a man's mind to go straight to sex. At the moment I don't believe you're in any mood to screw anyone, even Gwyneth Paltrow. You're sad and tired and maybe want to hold on to someone.” She met his gaze for a long moment before holding out her hand. “I could use someone to hold on to too.”

  He hesitated and then took her hand. “And your maternal protectiveness is flying banner high.”

  She smiled. “Or maybe I don't want to have to bother to come back here if you have another emotional jag. You woke me out of a sound sleep.”

  “Now you know how I feel.” He turned off the lamp and lay down beside her. “And I refuse to feel sorry for you.”

  “Aren't you going to take off your clothes?”

  “No.” He pulled her close so that her head tucked into his shoulder. “This is fine. This is good.”

  Yes, it was. She felt warm and safe and sheltered against him. She'd wanted to give comfort but found herself taking it. Or sharing it? They were as close mentally as they were now physically, and it was difficult to define the emotion. “It's all right with me, you know. Living in a firehouse gets rid of any prudery.”

  “I'll keep my clothes on, thank you. Though it's more of a reminder than a barrier.” His lips brushed her forehead. “Because you were right.”

  “About what?”

  “That a man's mind goes straight to sex.” His hand stroked her hair as he whispered, “And you can never tell when his mood might change.”

  Crystal blue lake.

  Soft breeze blowing through the high grass.

  “What the hell?” Silver stood up and moved away from her. “I don't know what happened. God, I swear I never meant to do this, Kerry.”

  “I know you didn't.” She smiled. “But I did.”

  His gaze shifted back to her. “What?”

  “Oh, I haven't discovered a new talent. There's no way I could build a scenario like this. But I'm close enough to you now to be able to tap into your memory bank. I wasn't sure I could, but a little exploration and there I was. . . .” She looked out at the lake. “Here. Where I wanted to be. Where I wanted you to be.”

  “Good God, I've created a monster.”

  “No such thing. But you should have expected me to grab hold and run with it.”

  “I suppose I should have.” He smiled. “But why? Why did you want to come here?”

  “Because this is the place you brought me to to take away pain. I thought it might help. You wouldn't do it for yourself. It would have been too much like self-indulgence. Heaven forbid you give yourself a break.”

  “Oh? And where did you get the idea I was that self-sacrificing? I assure you I can be as selfish as they come given the right circumstances.”

  “Then be selfish, dammit. Where can you find more ideal circumstances?”

  “I can think of a few.”

  She inhaled sharply as a wave of heat shocked through her. He was looking at her as he had that other day, and she became acutely aware of the tension of his muscles, the movement of his chest as he breathed in and out, his eyes . . .

  “You shouldn't have brought me here,” he said thickly. “You didn't think far enough ahead. You blunt the pain and you remove the distraction. Believe me, I needed the distraction.”

  She wasn't about to pretend she didn't know what he meant. Sex. Raw, hot, urgent. All the more powerful for the bond they shared. She wanted to touch him. She wanted to move her hands on his back and feel him tense against her. How would it be to have him sink—

  “Don't even think about it,” Silver said harshly. “I'm trying to keep this thing between us on an even keel. Do you think this is easy for me?”

  “I don't care about
your even keel.” She got to her feet and moved toward him. “You know what I want.”

  “Hell, yes. And I don't know whether I purposely caused it to happen.” His hands reached out and grasped her shoulders. “I tried not to do it. But I wanted you and I might have made sure you wanted me.”

  “Don't be so conceited. I believe I'd be able to know whether or not you'd manipulated me when it came to sex.”

  “But you can't be sure.”

  “I learned when I was fighting fires that there comes a time when you just have to trust your instincts.”

  “Listen, you're feeling all warm and soft because you're sorry for me. But unless you back off now, I'm not going to give a damn about the whys or wherefores.”

  “Good. Because no matter how this started, it's pretty clear to me that I don't want to go to bed with you because I pity you.” She grimaced. “Maybe I'm just using it as an excuse. Take a peek and you tell me.”

  He muttered a curse. “I'm not getting any closer to you than I have to, either mentally or physically. It's not fair to you. In spite of what you say about your wonderful firefighter instincts.”

  “Screw being fair to me.” Her fingers touched his lips. They were warm and firm, and a tiny shock of sensation rippled through her. “My instinct tells me that I want this because I find you sexy as hell and that I'd want you if I was blind to that damn talent of yours.”

  “What if your instinct is—” A shudder ran through him as she stepped closer and pressed against him. “Shit.” His arms closed around her. “You definitely know how to clinch an argument.” His head bent until their lips were only a breath apart. “Okay, but I have only one qualification. No buffer. No dream-lake scenario.”

  Darkness.

  Swirling heat.

  Skin against skin.

  She opened her eyes to see him above her on the bed. It took her a moment to come to full wakefulness. “You took your clothes off. . . .”

  “You bet I did.” He pulled her sleep shirt over her head and threw it aside. “I don't want anything between us. Not a piece of material, not a—” He broke off as his chest touched her breasts. “Jesus.”

  She knew how he felt. Her skin was flushed, burning, taut, and ready. “I can't— Come here.” Her legs curled around his hips and drew him toward her. “I need you to—” She arched with a cry as she felt him move against her.