Little Miss Sunshine was alive. She moaned heavily when Verity began searching her for blood and broken bones. Elyssa’s eyes fluttered.
“Saranantha?” she whispered thickly.
“It’s Verity, not Saranantha. It’s all right, Elyssa. I’ll get you back to the house. Can you sit up? We’ve got to get you out of the water.” No telling how long Elyssa had been lying here with her legs in the gray, frigid water.
“Feel dizzy.” Elyssa’s voice was slurred. “Help me, Saranantha.” She made a halfhearted attempt to sit up and promptly collapsed back into Verity’s arms. Her eyes closed again.
Elyssa wasn’t going to be much help. Verity stripped off her parka, shuddering as the rain hit her head and shoulders. She removed the other woman’s soaked jacket and stuffed Elyssa into the warm down parka. Then she hooked her hands under Elyssa’s arms and started to pull her out of the water.
It was tough going. Elyssa was no lightweight, but Verity eventually got her up onto the rocky shore. She glanced at the boat, wondering where the owner was. She hurried over to peer inside. There was a small, wadded-up paper sack in one corner, a wooden paddle for emergencies, and some fishing line. Nothing useful there.
The keys were gone, but Verity discovered that a storage locker in the stern was open. Inside was a plastic tarp. It wasn’t much, but it would keep the rain off Elyssa and insulate some of her body heat. Verity dragged it out of the locker and draped it over the prone figure.
Elyssa didn’t look like Little Miss Sunshine at the moment. She didn’t look very seductive, either. Elyssa looked as if she might die if Verity didn’t get help fast.
Verity scrambled back up the short cliff and ran for the villa. There were only a few twinges from her injured ankle.
Jonas was standing in front of a narrow window on the first floor of the villa when he caught sight of the familiar red-haired figure dashing toward the house. His first thought was that Verity had no business running like that on her injured ankle. She could easily take another fall.
His second thought was that he was going to strangle her for going outside without a coat. She was wearing only a sweater over her jeans, and her hair was soaked. Obviously the little firebrand did not know the first thing about good prenatal care.
It occurred to him briefly as he turned away from the window that this pregnancy business might well change the nature of their relationship. He was rapidly developing an urge to nag. Of course it was all for her own good.
He reached the main hall at the instant that Verity came charging through the front door.
“What the hell do you think you’re doing running around without a jacket? What are you doing outside in the rain anyway, for Christ’s sake? Where’s your common sense, woman? You’re responsible for two now, you know.”
Her eyes flew to where he stood glaring at her with his arms folded and his feet braced aggressively. Relief flooded her. “Jonas! Thank goodness. It’s Elyssa. She’s fallen. She’s lying unconscious in the cove where the little boat is anchored.”
Jonas rapidly reassessed the situation. “Go get Doug and anyone else you can find.”
They got Elyssa up the side of the cliff without too much difficulty. When Doug carried her into the house and set her on a sofa in front of the fire, Verity and Oliver Crump bent anxiously over the unconscious woman. They began stripping off Elyssa’s soggy clothing. Crump issued orders for blankets and warm water. One by one, the entire group appeared.
Jonas stood back and watched Verity’s red head hovering close to Oliver’s dark one. He was aware of the same uneasy sensation he’d experienced earlier when he’d watched the two of them playing with the crystal.
It disturbed him to see Verity involved with that kind of thing. He didn’t like the way Crump seemed intent on drawing her into his silly psychic games. And he did not like the way Verity seemed to be growing increasingly fascinated with Crump and the damn crystals.
Preston Yarwood was the last person to walk into the salon. Jonas watched his face as he took in the sight of his lover stretched out unconscious.
“Elyssa! What the hell happened?” Yarwood hurried forward, looking genuinely stricken. “Is she all right? What’s wrong, dammit!”
“She must have fallen,” Crump said as he and Verity wrapped Elyssa in the blankets. “The rain has probably made the ground treacherous around the top of the cliffs. She’s alive, but unconscious.”
“But she was fine when I left her,” Yarwood said helplessly. He stopped talking as everyone glanced up at him.
Doug Warwick looked at Yarwood for a long moment before he said briskly, “As soon as you’ve got her warmed up, Oliver, I’ll take her into town. There’s a small hospital on the other island.”
Oliver nodded, his attention on his patient. “She probably has a concussion, but I don’t see any indication of other injury. I don’t think she was in the water very long. I’ll go with you in the boat.”
“Thanks,” Doug said. He looked at Verity. “And thank you too, Verity. If you hadn’t found her when you did…”
“That water’s mighty cold,” Maggie Frampton observed grimly. She had appeared a few minutes earlier and was standing stiffly in the doorway. “Person could die of exposure. Hypothermia, they call it.”
We know, Maggie,” Slade Spencer said, cutting her off. His contribution to handling the crisis was to pop another pill into his mouth.
Jonas saw Oliver, Doug, and a well-wrapped Elyssa off on the launch a half-hour later.
“Oliver and I will be back in the morning with the launch,” Doug said as Jonas tossed him the lines.
“Right. We’ll see you tomorrow.”
Doug was silent for a moment as he stood in the bobbing launch. “Elyssa and Yarwood have been arguing a lot lately,” he finally said. “Yarwood was furious about something this morning. This afternoon he came back from that walk alone.”
Jonas looked at him, feeling a wave of masculine empathy. He’d be looking for someone to punish too, if anything had happened to Verity. “I wouldn’t read too much into it, Doug,” he counseled softly. “Chances are she really did just slip and fall.”
Doug’s mouth twisted wryly. “I know. Guess I was out of line. Elyssa’s a pain in the ass, but she is my sister.”
Jonas decided privately that he’d go along with that analysis. Elyssa was indeed a pain in the ass. But he owed her. After all, if she hadn’t pulled that seduction scene in Hazelhurst’s torture chamber this morning, he would have missed one of the great erotic encounters of all time.
It wasn’t just the manacles and Verity’s technique with a velvet whip he was going to recall for the rest of his life. It was the hungry, passionate, possessive way she had made it clear that he belonged to her and her alone.
Yeah, Jonas decided. He owed Little Miss Pain in the Ass Sunshine. He stood on the floating dock until the launch was out of sight.
But as he headed back toward the ugly villa, his thoughts were on Preston Yarwood. Caitlin Evanger had said the lab report on Yarwood declared him dangerous in some vague way.
Jonas thought about his own recent experiences with jealousy. It was a powerful force. Furthermore, he knew, from the brief occasions in the psychic corridor when he’d picked up on the rage of a wronged man, that a violent reaction was not uncommon in a jealous male. He’d held rapiers that cuckolded men had once used to avenge their honor. He’d felt the shattering fury that could lead a man to commit murder.
It was possible that Yarwood had known such fury this morning.
Jonas shook off the thoughts as he walked back into the main hall. Verity was coming downstairs. She had dried her hair and changed her clothes.
“Did they get off okay?” she asked anxiously.
“They’re gone.” Jonas looked up at her and came to a decision. “Put on a coat, Verity,” he said softly. “I want to go fo
r a walk.”
She frowned. “Now?”
He nodded. “Now. It’s stopped raining.”
Verity hesitated. He thought she might ask a few more questions but she didn’t. She hurried back upstairs and came down with another parka.
“Where are we going?” she asked as he helped her into the jacket.
“Out to the cliff where Elyssa fell.”
Verity looked up at him questioningly as they went outside. “You suspect something, don’t you?”
“I just want to see if there’s anything there.”
You mean any lingering vibrations of violence? Are you thinking about the fact that she and Yarwood have been quarreling lately?”
He raised his eyebrows. “The thought crossed Doug’s mind, too. But I’m not sure what to think yet. I just want to see if I can pick up anything.”
She nodded. “I can’t see Yarwood doing anything that drastic, though, Jonas. He isn’t the type.”
“Any man is the type if he’s pushed far enough.”
Verity gave him a sharp glance, then looked away. He didn’t have to ask her what she was thinking. She was wondering if he was the type. “Any man, Verity,” Jonas said with quiet emphasis. “Even a nice, gentle soul like Oliver Crump.”
“You’re wrong,” she said with the same quiet forcefulness he had used. “A man like Oliver would never kill, except perhaps in self-defense.”
“Don’t bet on it.” He gripped her arm more tightly than was necessary, annoyed with the way she had leaped to Crump’s defense.
Neither one said another word until they reached the cliff above the cove. Verity peered over the edge.
“She was lucky it was a relatively short drop. All the bushes growing on the side of the cliff probably broke the fall.”
Jonas followed her gaze. “If she’d landed wrong, she would have broken her neck.” He felt the shudder that went through Verity and wished he’d kept his mouth shut. “Let’s see what we can turn up.”
“You’ll need something to touch, Jonas. Something that she might have touched as she went over the edge.”
“We need to find exactly where she was standing when it happened.”
“You can’t see any footprints in these pine needles,” Verity said as they started walking along the edge of the bluff.
“No, but I should be able to feel something if we find the right spot. Watch your step.” He tightened his grip on her arm.
They took another dozen steps before Jonas felt the atmosphere around him shiver with the familiar sensation of violence. Verity halted at once, watching his face intently.
“Here?” she whispered.
“Close to here,” he confirmed. “But it’s very faint. I’ll have to work to get anything at all. Are you ready?”
Verity nodded quickly and clasped her hands in front of her. “Ready.”
Jonas took a step closer to the edge of the cliff and the vibrations grew stronger. There was a heady exultation in being able to control what had once threatened to overwhelm him. He could handle his talent these days, thanks to Verity.
Reality curved around him, creating a corridor that had no end and no beginning. Jonas remained aware of his external surroundings as he entered the psychic tunnel in his head. He knew that Verity was experiencing the same disorienting feeling of dealing with two realities simultaneously. It could be done. A few months ago he’d fought a duel in real time using the fencing skills he’d “borrowed” from another dimension.
“Verity?”
“I’m here.”
He knew she was there, he could always sense her presence. She was his anchor here. He saw her out of the corner of his eye, standing a short distance away from him in the dark corridor. She was staring straight ahead at a weak image that was slowly forming in front of them. The vision was barely discernible, probably because it was so recent in time, Jonas thought. His talent was at its strongest when the vision took place in what he considered his prime time, the Renaissance. In the past few months he’d become powerful enough to pick up more recent scenes of violence. It had something to do with Verity. She had not only helped him control his talent, she had made him stronger. All the same, he couldn’t get anything this recent to come through with much clarity.
“There she is, Jonas,” Verity whispered. “You were right. Look at the ribbons.”
The hazy image of a woman toppling over the edge of the cliff hovered in front of them. It was Elyssa, a look of terror on her features as she clawed uselessly at the air. There was no way to tell who or what was behind her, but Jonas sensed a second presence in the image. Snaky tendrils of violent emotion were unraveling from the animated vision, flowing first toward him and then, as if caught by a magnet, toward Verity. The snakes were pale and weak compared to those that would have emerged from an older vision.
“It’s too damn hazy,” he muttered. “I can’t tell what’s happening.”
“Maybe it was just an accident—a violent accident,” Verity said tightly.
“No.” Jonas knew better and so did Verity. She just didn’t want to admit it. His talent wasn’t for random violence, like deaths caused by storms or accidents. The psychic ability that had nearly driven him insane was linked to the kind of violence men and women used against each other. “There’s someone else involved. I wouldn’t be picking up anything at all if there wasn’t.” He reached out to touch one of the sickly pale ribbons that coiled around Verity’s feet. The shivering tendril leaped hungrily for him, a nasty little snake that would poison him if he wasn’t very careful.
Faint traces of rage, anguish, and pain washed fleetingly through Jonas as the ribbon tried to coil weakly around his wrist. He quickly released the weak ribbon of emotion and moved back out of reach. Denied its prey, the snake rejoined the looping mass hovering around Verity.
“Are you all right?” Verity asked.
He knew she hated it when he touched one of the dangerous ribbons.
“I’m fine. Let’s get out of here.” In real time he took a step backward, away from the spot where Elyssa had been standing when she had fallen. The hazy image and the psychic corridor vanished instantly.
Verity stood rubbing her arms briskly. “Do you really think she was pushed, Jonas?”
He shrugged. “Something happened out here. Something that involved Elyssa and another person who was feeling both rage and heavy emotional pain. The vision was vague, but you know that I wouldn’t have picked up on it at all if Elyssa had fallen by accident.”
Chapter Fourteen
I suppose it must have been Yarwood,” Verity said quietly as they walked back to the villa, “although I can’t really picture it. He must have found out about Elyssa’s hobby of fooling around with every available male psychic. We heard them arguing, remember? And if he found out what she tried to do this morning he might have really gone crazy.”
“Maybe.”
Verity’s brows came together in a sharp line. “What do you mean, ‘maybe’? What other explanation is there?”
Jonas shrugged. “I don’t know. But Elyssa’s been fooling around for quite some time apparently, and Yarwood hasn’t tried to kill her until now.”
“Maybe he hadn’t realized what she’s been doing all along.”
“It doesn’t make sense. He must know what she’s like,” Jonas insisted.
“Love is blind,” Verity said philosophically.
“Bullshit. I’m in love with you and I’m not blind to all your faults, or all the trouble you cause me.”
Verity dug an elbow into his ribs.
“Ouch! Dammit that hurt.” Jonas stopped and pulled her into his arms. His eyes held a familiar glitter.
“Oh no you don’t, not out here on the cold, wet ground.” But the excitement was simmering in her veins, too. It had flooded her the instant she’d looked into his eyes. �
�You know something, Jonas Quarrel? I’ve given this matter of your getting horny every time we go into that psychic corridor a lot of thought, and I’ve come to a few conclusions.”
“I’m not the only one who gets hot after we go into the corridor,” he growled as he nuzzled her throat. “And I’ve told you, I never experienced this particular aftereffect until I met you. Never had the problem all those months I was being tested at Vincent College. Never had the problem when I authenticated artifacts for all those museums and collectors. No, ma’am, never had any problem like this at all. Until I met you, my thoughts were always as pure as the driven snow whenever I came out of a session in the corridor.”
“Don’t you dare imply that I’m the cause.” She felt the heat from his body and her insides began to turn to mush, as usual. Her knees got weak. In another few minutes she would barely be able to stand.
“You know you can’t lie to me, little tyrant,” he said with deep satisfaction. “You feel the same way I do right now.”
“Maybe, but I’ve decided that I don’t get this way because of the corridor,” Verity said, trying desperately to maintain some semblance of propriety. “It isn’t being your psychic anchor that does this to me.”
“No? Then what does it to you?” Jonas didn’t seem very interested in her answer. He was too busy nibbling on her ear.
“It’s you, dammit. Not the experience in the corridor.” She planted her palms against his chest and tried in vain to push him back a step. “You do this to me. It must be the way you look at me or something. I’m not sure, but I know it isn’t the corridor that does it because I don’t start feeling this way until you start leering at me. It’s all your fault.”
Jonas chuckled, sounding pleased. “Well then, that’s just as it should be,” he said complacently. “Let’s go upstairs and find a whip. It’s my turn.”
Gift of Fire Page 22
