His eyes darkened even more, and the whites turned gray. More memories flashed in my head, but I ignored them. Fuck him. Fuck him straight to helheim.
Rick’s eyes turned back to human brown. “The memories aren’t affecting you.”
I didn’t respond.
“Why?” he said. “Why aren’t they working?”
“A new trick.” I grinned, knowing that it looked much like Mr. Bradley’s smile did.
“You’ll tell me eventually.” He tested the blade’s sharpness with his thumb.
I stayed where I was. I knew I couldn’t make the first move. I didn’t have the knowledge or the training. I just needed to wait, to hold on, to endure. I’d find a moment and I had to be ready to take it. Ready to hurt him. Ready to kill him.
But he wasn’t coming at me.
Fuck this. Maybe I could put a spell on him like I’d put on Mr. Wesley, but a spell to keep him from taking anything wouldn’t do me much good. A plethora of gory retaliations ran through my mind. He inhaled through his nose, and the corners of his mouth turned down.
“Anger is much less satisfying than fear,” he said. “You’ve gained control of it faster than I expected.”
“I’m not tied to a bed this time,” I snapped.
“That can be changed.” He took a step toward me and raised his knife. About time.
Before I knew what had happened, he had grasped my wrist and turned my own knife toward me. His other arm wrapped around my upper body, the point of his knife pressed into my neck. Nearly in the same moment, the door crashed open, and Daniel rolled through it like he’d done in my bedroom when Dian Cecht visited me. Like then, he held a gun out. “Drop the knife and get on the floor.”
“Shit, shit, shit,” Rick whispered through his teeth.
“Drop the knife and get down on the floor,” Daniel said again.
“I’m not leaving empty-handed this time,” Rick said. “First Michael, now you. Neither of you can have her. She’s mine.”
“You’re not getting out of here,” Daniel said.
“I’ll cut her. Get out of the way.”
“I don’t think so,” Daniel said.
The point of the knife got sharper, and I inhaled through clenched teeth. Then I felt the blade puncture my skin. I hissed as blood trickled down my neck.
I stumbled abruptly, the ground suddenly becoming softer. I stood at the Well of Destiny, looking wildly around.
“You brought us here,” I said aloud to Urd, momentarily confused.
That was the plan. He hurt us.
Oh, yeah, that’s right. Thank you. My body started to shake. I doubled over and wretched a few times, but nothing came up. I stood that way, shaking and nauseous for only a minute or two, but it felt like much longer. I had to get back.
Can you bring us back but away from Rick, maybe behind Daniel?
Yes.
Do it.
Daniel appeared in front of me. He whirled and pointed the gun at me and then lowered it. He blew out a breath through pursed lips, his voice clipped and tense. “Don’t do that again. It’s a good way to get shot.”
I nodded, and he turned back toward Rick, who lay faceup on the floor, a hole in his forehead and a pool of blood growing around him. Blood and flecks of bone painted the wall.
And then a dark cloud rose out of his aura, stretching tendrils upwards and toward Rick and me. I took a few steps back, reaching forward, grabbing Daniel’s shirt, and pulling him with me.
“What?” Daniel said, glancing at me.
“There’s something coming out of him.”
“I don’t see anything.”
“It’s in the psychic realm. I’ve only seen it in Mr. Bradley.”
The tendrils slowed, stopped, and snapped back, before fading away to nothing.
“Well?”
“It’s gone.”
“What was it?”
“I have no idea.”
Daniel turned to face me, his perplexed look quickly replaced by concern. “You’re bleeding.”
I nodded.
He found a kitchen towel, taking care to not get too close to the body, and pressed it to my neck. He took my hand and moved it to the towel. “Hold this. Put some pressure on it.”
I’d started shaking again, but followed his orders, staring at the pool of blood.
Daniel moved me close to a chair and sat me down. “Stay here.”
He went to the other room. Then I heard him pick up the phone and dial.
“This is Daniel Geist in room 457 at the Marriott Suites. I just shot an intruder.” He paused and then continued. “Yes, a woman, Amanda Byrne, is hurt.” Another pause. “No. I believe the man I shot is dead, but send one anyway.” He told the woman he’d leave the phone off the hook, set it down on the table, and then knelt in front of me. He took my free hand in his. “How are you doing?”
I looked into his eyes, but I couldn’t bring his face into focus. He’d just asked me something, but I couldn’t remember what it was. He pulled the washcloth away from my neck and pushed on the skin. I felt more blood.
“Good,” he said. “It’s not too serious.”
I studied his face. Then I nodded.
“What was the disappearing act? I thought you could only travel in spirit.”
“Urd, a goddess of sorts, pulled me to another realm.”
“How did you work that out?”
“She’s inside me.”
“What?”
“She’s experiencing life as me for a while.”
“You’ve got a goddess living inside you.”
“Yes.”
“Couldn’t she protect you?”
“She did. Rick’s psychic attack didn’t disorient us. And she pulled me away when Rick hurt us.”
“Why can’t she protect you all the time?”
“She doesn’t have her powers while she’s with me unless I expressly give them to her.”
He nodded, as if to say he’d make the same decision in my shoes.
Chapter Forty-two
My teeth chattered. An EMT wrapped a blanket around me and finished dressing my wound. The officer on the couch next to me had introduced himself as Detective Landry. He wore wrinkled black slacks and a button-down shirt with the sleeves rolled up past his elbows. It looked like he hadn’t shaved in two days, and he smelled like he’d bathed in English Leather. He asked me to walk through what happened for the third time.
“How did he get into the room?”
“I don’t know.”
“You knew this man?”
“Yes.”
“How did you know him?”
“He kidnapped me the last time I was in Las Vegas.”
“And you didn’t report it.”
“Correct.”
“Why not?”
“Because I’d passed out and came to at the hospital. I assumed the police took him away, but they didn’t. No one remembered seeing him. He must have left through the back door.”
“And he came here today to kidnap you again?”
“I think so.”
“Why?”
“I think he wanted to cut me. I don’t know what else he wanted to do.” My shivers increased, and I pulled the blanket tighter around my shoulders.
“Why you?”
I had been answering his questions quickly with the same or near-same answers as I used the first two times around. This was a new question and my mouth answered before my brain engaged. “Maybe because I’d gotten away. Maybe because Mr. Bradley promised me to him. I don’t know.”
“Michael Bradley?”
I closed my eyes. I shouldn’t have brought up Mr. Bradley. I sighed. “Yes.”
“Why would Mr. Bradley have promised you to this man?”
“I prefer not to say.”
“Why not?”
“Because you already think I’m crazy.”
Detective Landry had the good grace to blush. I liked him better for it. “Tell me anyway.”
“Mr. Bradley wanted to give me a drug to increase my psychic abilities and then steal them for as long as he could. He got Rick to kidnap me and promised me to Rick when he was done with me.”
“And what happened?”
“I was rescued before Rick could kill me.”
“And now Rick is dead.”
“Yes.”
“Mr. Geist killed him.”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
I moved my chin up and pointed at the bandage that covered my wound. “Because Rick had a knife to my throat.”
That time through the questions must have been enough, because Detective Landry snapped his notebook closed and put his pen back in his shirt pocket. Thank the gods. I was tired, and I wanted to go to bed. I didn’t want to reheat our cold dinner. I didn’t even want a shower anymore. I just wanted to crawl into bed and sleep.
With clearance from the police, we packed up the things that weren’t evidence and moved into a room at the other end of the hotel. I closed the door, bolted it, and attached the chain.
“Should I put a chair against the door?” I tried to laugh, but it stuck in my throat. I started to shiver again.
Daniel took my shoulders and walked me to the bathroom. He handed me my toiletry bag and wrapped his arms around me. I stood there, separated somehow from my body, feeling the bag between us, pressing uncomfortably, but not unreasonably so, into my sternum.
“Get ready for bed.” His voice was low and soft.
I nodded. I looked at my face in the mirror. I tried to see Urd but only saw myself.
Why aren’t we feeling normal? We are no longer in danger.
I shook my head. I didn’t know the answer.
When Daniel took his turn in the bathroom, I changed into a nightgown. Then I sat down on the bed and looked at my hands. I didn’t realize I was crying until Daniel knelt in front of me, took my hands in one of his, and wiped my tears with the other. He sat on the bed next to me and pulled me against him, rubbing my back while I cried more.
“I’m sorry.” I didn’t know why I apologized.
“He can’t hurt you. You’re safe now.”
I nodded.
He sat back, looking carefully into my eyes, and cupped my face in his palm. I reached up, laid my hand atop his, closed my eyes, and pressed my face against his palm. He smelled clean, like soap and a freshly oiled saddle.
He gently extracted himself and took my hands in his. He looked, briefly, as if he wanted to say something, but seemed to dismiss it with a gentle shake of his head.
I stared at him. He tried to smile, but just looked sad. Then he lay down on top of the covers and pulled me close to him. I rested my head on his shoulder and curled around him, snuggling close to his warmth. His jeans were rough against my leg, but that was a small price to pay. I slid softly into sleep.
* * * * * * *
The light on the nightstand was still on. I tried to look at it, but it was too bright, so I closed my eyes. I had to be dreaming. I was pressed against someone warm and I felt . . . safe. It had been so long since I’d felt this peace. Every day was a fight. Get up, do what needs to be done, help people, figure things out, make sure the kids are okay, go to bed. Do it all over again. None of that existed here. Here was warm. Here a strong arm held me against a stronger body. Here I didn’t have to be the strong one anymore. I sighed and fell further into the dream, wiggling closer and putting my hand on the warm skin under his shirt. I was rewarded with a sigh and his arm tightening around me. He turned toward me, and my hand smoothed the skin on his back. My pulse quickened when his hand dipped lower and cupped my backside. Then he pulled me hard against him, his other hand curling into the hair at the nape of my neck. He tilted my head upward and caught my lips with his. I sighed into his mouth. He moved his mouth down to my neck and scraped his teeth lightly against it. The sensation sent a shock through me. This wasn’t a dream. Nothing in dreamland ever felt that intense. I came fully awake.
For a few long moments, I had no idea where I was or what had happened. My brain simply turned question over question in my head long before it started providing me answers. As I was putting the events of the evening together in my head, he pulled my nightgown up and his hand moved to my lower back. My thoughts scattered, and my eyelids fluttered. Gods, I didn’t want to stop. But something was wrong. This couldn’t happen. I couldn’t remember why this couldn’t happen, but I knew it was true. And then I remembered. Rick. The knife. The gun. Daniel. His soft voice. His arms around me.
“Daniel,” I said softly.
He reached into my panties and cupped my naked behind. I inhaled sharply and caught the moan before it escaped my lips. I fought against the pleasure and regained my wits. Barely.
“Daniel,” I said a bit louder. I pulled my hand from under his T-shirt and buried my hand into the hair on the back of his head to pull him away from the glorious things he was doing to my neck. His hand tightened on my hair again, and before I could think, we were kissing. We pressed into each other and instead of pulling away, I held his mouth to me as much as he was holding mine to his.
Gods, how could I stop now? I made a frustrated noise and pulled his hair, hard. He broke off the kiss and opened his eyes. They were glassy.
“Daniel,” I said again.
I watched his eyes focus, widen, and then he pulled his hand from me as if I’d burned him.
“Don’t do it again,” I said.
“Do what?”
“Shut down,” I said. “Like you did in my bedroom when you shot Dian Cecht. If you don’t want to, you don’t want to, but tell me, don’t just disappear.”
He growled and then said, “I’m your bodyguard.”
“There’s no one to protect me from anymore.”
He digested that bit of news. I could almost see him replaying the events in his head and coming to the same conclusion I had. I hadn’t fired him, but the reason he’d been my bodyguard was no longer valid.
“You’re in shock.”
I paused. It was my turn to think through the events of the evening again. Boy did that make sense. My blurting out everything to the cop. The blandness of the end of the evening. The strange feeling Urd couldn’t identify and I couldn’t explain. And then the other events of the day landed on me. I virtually shuddered under their weight. Gods, how selfish could I be? What mother in her rightful mind could even think of— I clambered out of bed.
“My phone. Where’s my phone?!”
Daniel reached over and pulled it off the nightstand on the other side of the bed. He looked at the screen. “No messages.”
“Dammit.”
He looked at me more closely. “You’re not in shock.”
“I know. But it makes sense that I was.” I started pacing, wishing that I knew where the boys were. Someone should have found out by now. Gods, something must have gone wrong. I started dialing Miriam.
Daniel must have been getting good at reading me because he reached out and grasped my hand, stilling it.
“Don’t.”
“But I should have heard by now.”
“Do you really think they are doing anything else?”
I blushed and dropped my head. “No.”
Still holding my hand, he tilted my head up, pressing his fingers beneath my chin. “I know it’s hard.”
“I just don’t know what else to do.”
“There’s nothing to do but wait.”
“I suck at waiting.”
His mouth quirked into that sideways smirk. “I noticed.”
I couldn’t help but smile back. I reached up and cupped his face in my free hand. The hair on his face was soft, not the scratchy stubble that most men had.
The phone pinged.
Chapter Forty-three
I paced the suite. Violently. Anxiety twisted itself in my gut.
Miriam had found them. The extraction team had been initiated. I’d texted Sean. There was nothing to do but wait. Wait and pace. Wait, pace, and
pray. Which really was just me whispering “please, please, please.”
I’d tried the TV. That was a joke. Reading was completely out.
Will this have a physical impact on us?
What are you talking about?
Our heart. It’s . . . and our breathing. How can you stand this? It’s like we need to crawl out of our skin. And what is wrong with our stomach? What’s the impact on our physical form? Will it last long?
It’s called anxiety. Long-term, yes, it could cause issues. Some people have short-term physical issues as a result. I don’t fucking care.
We should stop feeling this.
I barked a laugh, and Daniel looked at me. I turned for another pace and waved my hand at him as if to say it was nothing.
We don’t choose what to feel.
But there must be some way to stop this.
There isn’t.
We must try.
Why?
We can’t take it.
I know. That’s why I’m pacing.
It’s not helping.
Well, if you have any other brilliant ideas, let me know.
You’re the expert on emotions.
And I still have no idea how to deal with this.
“What’s going on?” Daniel said.
I shook my head. “I think I might actually go crazy. Or throw up. Maybe both.”
“Puke first, of course.”
I stopped, my brain stuttering over his words, trying to make sense of them. “Was that . . . was that a joke?”
He quirked that damned adorable smile at me.
“You do have a sense of humor.”
“Occasionally.”
I burst out laughing, throwing my head back, but it immediately turned to sobs. And then I couldn’t stop. I hitched in a breath between fits, tears streaming down my face. I bent over, putting my hands on bent knees, trying to balance. I sank to the floor and put my face in my hands. I’m not sure how long I cried. Or when Daniel sat next to me, handed me some tissue, and then wiped my face with a cool, wet washcloth.
Power Play (Amanda Byrne Book 1) Page 26
