by Alisha Rai
“Next time, I’ll cook for you.”
Genevieve smiled and spread some egg yolk on her toast. The man couldn’t resist his caretaking streak. “I don’t mind you cooking as long as it’s not in my kitchen. With my pans.”
He pursed his lips. “Well, it’ll probably be safer on your stomach if I order out. I guess I may have stretched the truth a little when I called myself a decent cook. I can do cereal and oatmeal okay, but my brother swears the mac and cheese I made for his birthday picnic made him sick for a week. I’ll put the food on the plates for you, though. Or if you’re good, I’ll volunteer to be the plate.” He bobbed his eyebrows comically.
She chuckled, feeling more lighthearted than she could remember. She tucked away the thought that this could be their last meal together here. In his company, the simple food tasted gourmet, and between the frequent kisses and caresses, it took a while to empty their plates. He started to help her when she picked up their dishes, but she brushed his hands away. “I’ll just soak these and wash them later.”
He relaxed, the happy light still in his eyes. “So I guess next time I’ll be doing the dishes too.”
Genevieve snorted. “Frankly, I don’t mind if you do the dishes every time.”
She realized what she had said when the silence stretched out. She looked over her shoulder. Alex studied her with a small, knowing smile.
“I didn’t mean to imply…I mean, that we’d be together…”
“I know exactly what you meant, baby. No pressure, remember?”
She returned to her small sink, almost near tears at his gentle understanding. How easy it would be to fall into this routine, to imagine them together, eating meals and doing dishes. But how would she fit into his life when they were in his world?
She looked at the window, where dawn’s light had seeped around the edges of the curtain. She needed some time to compose herself and come to grips with whatever this was between them. She walked over to her bureau, grabbed her clothes and dressed.
“Where are you going?” he asked, scowling as he sat up.
“I know it’s weird, but most people wear clothes even if they’re inside the house, Alex.”
“If you lived with me, that would be the first rule to go.”
She forced a smile. “But you’re right, I’m going outside. It’s morning. We should see about finding that car and getting that…you know, the man taken care of.” Ugh, in all of the upheaval, she’d practically forgotten about the killer on her land. She was glad she didn’t have to deal with his death, but man, she wanted him locked away and gone.
She grabbed her coat from the door. “I’m going to go feed Barney first. Poor guy’s probably starving by now. Why don’t you stay here?”
“What? No way. We stick together until the cops come collect Leonie and fully search the woods. I’m sorry, honey.” He held up his hands, no doubt in response to the irritation on her face. She so was not used to someone telling her what to do. “Look, I think I’ve pretty much proven what an accommodating guy I am. Hell, I’m sure most people are going to call me henpecked. But when it comes to your continued good health, I’m afraid I’m going to be a bit of an ass. You might be a crack shot, but you aren’t going out there again without me. Period.”
Genevieve gave a gusty sigh. The obstinate set of his jaw told her this was one battle she wouldn’t be winning. “Fine.”
He dressed in another ancient pair of sweatpants he must have found in her storage closet, and she found him a huge men’s T-shirt she sometimes used in the summer to sleep in. Despite the ridiculousness of the outfit, Genevieve felt a pang of sadness. She’d gotten used to her naked hunk wandering around, or when he was in the sheet, her gentle gladiator. Genevieve shook off the poetic thought. “You can’t walk around in the snow with no shoes.”
“Way ahead of you.” He picked up a huge pair of tattered sneakers next to the chair. “I don’t know why you had these in your home. They’re too big for me, but I’ll take them.”
“I don’t know either. I’m a packrat. I’m impressed you found them. Now tell me you found a coat somewhere.”
“Nope.” He picked up her handgun, tucked it in the waistband of his sweatpants and wrapped a blanket around himself. “This’ll have to do. I’m used to much colder weather. This is really nothing to me.”
She grabbed her rifle and opened the door. The cold was nowhere near as freezing as it had been over the past couple of days. Good for the roads, bad for her heart. She tried to sound light. “Tough guy.”
“I have to be, or you’ll walk all over me.”
They checked the shed first, Alex going in ahead of her with his gun cocked. Leonie was still out cold. The place was freezing, but when she mentioned that fact to Alex, he just gave her an incredulous look. “He’s lucky he’s alive and not in the snow. I’ll be damned if I let you give him so much as a blanket.”
She hid a smile. “I think you misinterpreted my tone. I didn’t mean, ‘Awww. His wittle toes must be cold!’ I meant, ‘Sweet, he must be cold.’”
“I’m glad to hear that. You had me wondering where my tough woman had gone to.”
They continued to banter as they walked to the barn. He stopped as they reached the barn, his expression dissolving into bliss as he inhaled deeply of the smoke and apple scent in the air. He looked out into the distance and Genevieve followed his gaze, trying to see her home as he saw it, a dot of civilization wrestled from the tangled wilderness around it. Tall and mighty, the trees stood like sentinels guarding her little clearing—she knew each of them, had played within their shelter as they grew with her. The sun was just starting to rise above the horizon, splashing fingers of crimson and burnt umber over the woods, colors so bright they almost hurt the eye. “It’s beautiful, Genevieve.”
She nodded and swung open the door to her little ramshackle barn. “See? There are upsides to living here. That right there makes up for a lot of problems.”
“I don’t think I’ve ever seen a sunrise like that.”
“Yeah, you can almost feel it, can’t you?” Genevieve walked into the barn, sensing Alex behind her. “Come meet Barney,” she said over her shoulder. The old horse, hearing his name and her voice, poked his brown head over the stall door, ears pricked.
“Uh, I can just wait here while you do…whatever you need to do.”
She turned to look at him standing just inside the barn door. “Don’t tell me you’re scared of my old horse?”
He fidgeted and then scowled. “Of course not. I’m just enough of a city boy to appreciate that you shouldn’t be too close to something that could crush you just by lifting a foot.”
Genevieve laughed and entered the stall. Barney nudged her and then tossed his head in displeasure. “I’m sorry, baby. That man outside has me so turned inside out I forgot to bring you a treat. Next time, okay?”
Barney whinnied. She buried her face in his soft brown coat and gave him a hug to make up for her forgetfulness before starting to clean up, humming under her breath.
Had Barney not been so quiet, she would have missed the thud from outside the stall. She frowned and looked up. “Alex?” she called out. “Did you knock something over?”
Almost as an afterthought, she grabbed the rifle propped against the stall door before she walked out, the remnants of sun sending rays of light through the many cracks and holes in the barn’s roof. A crimson shaft haloed Alex where he sprawled on the ground, mixing with the blood pooling under his head.
For a second, she felt her head spin with déjà vu. “Alex?” she whispered.
“Well now, sugar, this is quite a surprise.”
14
Adrenaline mingled with shock as their intruder stepped out from the shadows to her left. It had been over four years since Genevieve had last seen him, and time had not been kind to Deputy Tom Reynolds. His face was bloated and red, his body soft and straining at the seams of his dirty and torn uniform.
She had been prepared for even
tually confronting the man and dealing with her demons, but she wasn’t ready for the ugly-looking gun he pointed at her chest.
“Drop the gun.”
She wasn’t about to argue, and she tossed it to the ground. She looked in Alex’s direction, frantic at his stillness and the amount of blood under his head. Under the blanket, she couldn’t even tell if he was breathing.
Reynolds licked his fat lips, making them shiny and wet. “You’re all grown up now, aren’t you, girl?” he whispered hoarsely. She could see the perverted lust in the beady eyes that roved over her body. He gave an ugly sneer. “I should have had you a long time ago, witch. Would have, too, if Bainsworth hadn’t gone all crazy and threatened to shoot my dick off if I came out here. It’s like God’s looking out for me now, though. You and this bastard”—he spit at Alex’s body—“all at the same time, like a nice little present. Yessiree, it’s certainly fated.”
Genevieve struggled to keep her calm while her mind raced. The deputy might be older, but he held the gun competently on both of them, his attention split equally.
Okay, Alex. Your turn to be the hero. I’ll just stall him. Please wake up. “Why did you hurt him? What are you doing here now?”
He shrugged, the look in his eyes not quite sane. “I was supposed to get Bainsworth’s job. He promised me. Kept waiting and waiting for it, and the power. And then that goddamned council had the nerve to pass me over for some goddamned outsider.” He snickered. “But I took good care of that prick, yes, I did.”
Genevieve swallowed. “Alex? Were you the one who shot him?”
Confusion clouded his gaze. “He was supposed to be dead. I thought I was so lucky when I saw him stop his car on that deserted stretch. I had already called the guy in New York, Leonie, to tell him I would help him kill the guy who put his brother away. But he hadn’t showed up yet. Thought maybe I could get rid of Rivera, and maybe even get more money for killing him than I had got just for agreeing to work with the guy to trap him alone.” Reynolds shook his head. “But I couldn’t find his body and then Leonie showed up and yelled at me. Said he’d find him on his own. Said he wouldn’t pay me nothing. I’ve been following him. Have you seen him?” he asked in the most polite tone, as if he were asking if she’d seen an old classmate.
Genevieve shook her head.
Reynolds mulled that over and shrugged. “Oh well. I’d rather have the job than the money. I need to take Rivera’s body so the council will know he’s dead. I’ll say Leonie killed him, and they can make me chief.” He stepped closer to her menacingly, the gun never wavering in his hand. “You’re my perk.” Reynolds gestured with the gun. “Let’s go, you’re coming with me.”
“What?”
“Did you really think I would let you walk away? I’ve been ready to fuck you since you were twelve. We’re gonna make sure this son of a bitch is good and dead and then I’ll take you to my cabin by the lake and keep you there. Who’s gonna report you missing?” His high-pitched giggle emerged again.
She lifted her chin, despite the ice-cold fear in her veins. “You do remember what happened to Bainsworth and Carlyle, don’t you?”
“Those idiots weren’t really cursed. It was just a coincidence.” Yet Genevieve spotted a hint of uncertainty in his eyes that she capitalized on ruthlessly.
“Are you sure you want to risk that? Are you willing to bet your life on it?”
Reynolds was sweating now. “You’re lying.”
Genevieve shook her head with mock regret. “You know, this negative energy amplifies my powers,” she bluffed. “You’d best leave now while you’re still safe.”
For a second, she thought maybe he’d actually do it, just walk away. Instead, his lips firmed, and he took a step toward her.
She felt a sinking sensation in her stomach. Though Reynolds was older, he was still a huge man. She would be no match for him physically.
Her eyes shot to Alex. She almost whooped with glee when she realized his right hand no longer lay on the floor by his head; it had disappeared under the blanket. Oh God, oh God, the man was awake. Bless his heart.
She looked back at Reynolds and tried not to give her excitement away. The deputy was still too close to Alex, and he had both of them in his sights. She had to work out some sort of distraction. She had no idea what, if anything, Alex had planned, but he’d had a gun on him, and anyway, wasn’t the damsel in distress’s best option always a distraction?
Without another second of consideration, she concentrated until Reynolds’s body no longer existed as flesh and blood, but as a miasma of colors. Brushing past the layers she didn’t care for, she found the one she sought and attacked the weakest part of it.
Reynolds’s brow furrowed. “What are you doing?”
She remained silent as he coughed.
“Stop it, bitch,” he gasped. The aura flared a dark, pulsing purple. Not the gentle color of healing, but the rich, complicated hue of death. Part of her brain acknowledged the way his eyes bulged in panic.
The power; God, the power was so heady. It sucked on her, the seductive call of destruction.
Stop it. Stop it. Going too far.
Can’t.
Her consciousness struggled against the excitement of knowing she had her enemy in her grasp, hers to do with whatever she pleased.
Alex.
The darkness within her receded at the thought of him, and she grasped on to it like a lifeline. She couldn’t get sucked in here. Alex would be devastated if she succumbed.
The sharp crack of a gun brought her out of her spell, and she instinctively dropped to the floor.
She lay on the ground, trying to figure out where she had been shot.
And then she realized that other than the dull pain on her hip where she had landed, she felt remarkably healthy.
A loud groan prompted her to open her eyes a crack.
“Angel? Genevieve, are you okay?”
Reynolds lay in a heap on the concrete floor, blood seeping out from under his fingers where they clutched his shoulder. Alex stood some feet away from her, his face ashen, blood trickling from his head, and holding her handgun. He walked to her, stooping along the way to scoop up the deputy’s fallen weapon.
He grasped her arms. “Did he hurt you?”
She shook her head. “No. Oh, Alex, he was the one who shot you.”
“I heard. I knew he was a little bastard, but who knew so many people wanted me dead?”
Assured of her safety, he turned back to the fallen man. “Can you fetch me some rope, sweetheart?”
She scurried to the tack room, bringing back coils of heavy rope. She stopped when she realized that the deputy was unconscious, and there was a hell of a lot of blood covering his face that hadn’t existed before she’d left the room. Alex stood over him with a very bland expression. “He was resisting arrest.”
“Um, sure.”
Alex grinned and made quick work of hog-tying the man, wrenching harder than necessary on his arms. When he had tied him to his satisfaction, he patted him down, removing two knives and some crushed mints. “Damn it, why is no one carrying car keys in their pockets?”
“Maybe he rode a horse.”
“Can you honestly see this ass on a horse?” Alex stood and endured Genevieve’s fussing over his head with a stoic expression. “It’s not that bad. You know how head wounds bleed. I’m almost ashamed he got the drop on me.”
Genevieve snorted and rested her fingertips against his injured temple. “Yeah, when I get smacked in the head, my first emotion is shame too. Hold still.” She concentrated. He held completely rigid, though she noticed his eyes flick upwards when her fingers started to glow purple. After a few minutes, she released him and transferred her hand to her own temple and rubbed. “Whew. I think I need some sugar. I’m getting too old for this stuff.”
Alex reached up and tentatively felt the wound, which had stopped bleeding and subsided to an angry red bump. “You’re amazing. Like my own walking Tylenol. You okay?�
��
She dropped her hand. “Yeah. It takes a bit out of you is all.”
Alex pressed a kiss against her forehead, a tender motion. He drew back and eyed her in admiration. “By the way, thanks.”
“For what?”
“For letting me feel like a man and save you for once.”
“Oh. Yeah, I was hoping you had something up your sleeve.”
“Or tucked into my sweatpants, as it were.”
“I saw you move your hand. I had complete trust in your ability to save us,” she added, in case he might have some doubts on that front. It must be tough to reconcile a weakness with that natural machismo.
She thought maybe he stood a little taller. “Thanks. I was just waiting for the guy to get distracted.”
She puffed out her chest. “You know, distractions are totally the heroine’s job.”
“That tops the list as one of the best ever acts. How did you make yourself glow purple on command like that?”
“Acts? Oh. It was, you know. Just something I can do.” Genevieve glanced away, scuffed her toe along the ground.
“Oh hell, no.”
“Hmm?”
“Please tell me that was just an act. Please tell me you weren’t going to do to him what you did to Bainsworth.”
“Of course not.” She hadn’t had any intention of giving the guy cancer. That would have taken too long.
“You were going to fucking kill him! I can’t believe that, Genevieve.”
Her skin turned icy cold. “I’m sorry. I was trying to help. I realize that seeing what I can do in action might be a bit distasteful to you…”
“You think I’m mad because you have the ability to kill him?” Genevieve had no idea Alex could look so outraged. “I’m pissed because, according to the fucked-up rules of your universe, you’d be sacrificing yourself if you hurt him. You said it was a distraction, but what if you hadn’t been able to control it? You’ve been out of practice with your powers for a while. Jesus Christ, I can’t believe you. Dear God, Genevieve, I don’t ever want to see you in this kind of situation again.”
