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Out of Body

Page 17

by Stella Cameron


  Gray didn’t laugh, although he knew she was being outrageously brave to even think of storming the Fournier house. “Never mind,” he said, sinking to kneel beside her. “Are you okay?”

  She slid her hands around his neck and he couldn’t look away from her green eyes. He got lost in those eyes. “I’m not okay,” she said, sounding breathless. “It’s…Are you okay? There’s no…Are you in pain anywhere?” Her voice faded to nothing.

  He nodded and pulled her hard against him. The next stab into his belly took his breath away, but he didn’t want it to stop.

  “Oh, Gray. I never thought about this happening. I didn’t expect it. We’ll have to talk. No, we mustn’t talk. Leave me now. Don’t ask any questions, just go and forget about me.”

  Gray swung to sit down and lifted her effortlessly onto his lap. Dark and light colors—red, green, purple, orange, a rim of silver—spun and he couldn’t tell if it was really out there or just in his mind. He didn’t care.

  She pushed her fingers into his hair and he kissed her.

  Their gasps mingled. Their mouths explored, testing one angle and another, their teeth nibbling at each other’s lips, their tongues reaching to steal away sensation.

  Gray’s whole body ached.

  He covered her breast and cried out. She was like fire and ice and he felt as if their naked bodies were layered together. Sweat broke out along his spine.

  “Don’t stop,” he whispered. “Never stop.”

  A voice faintly penetrated his mind: “Get a room,” followed by a chuckle. While he pulsed and grew closer to a climax, Gray raised his head to see a boy of about fifteen.

  The kid stood there, moving gum from one side of his mouth to the other and grinning. “I’m savin’ you from yourself, man,” he said. “You can thank me later.” And he took off, laughing loudly.

  21

  Marley looked through the cab window, but didn’t see anything but a passing blur. The episode with Gray on the sidewalk meant that even if she never saw him again, she was forever changed.

  She couldn’t talk to Uncle Pascal about this.

  Although she must have been told about it, Willow would only pretend she had never heard of the Bonding. The relationship she had with Benedict Fortune ended abruptly and Marley’s assumption had been that they simply hadn’t Bonded. Although Benedict had left New Orleans immediately after the two separated and relationships between the two families had become strained…One day she would try to ask Willow what had happened.

  Marley absolutely would not discuss Bonding with Sykes.

  She growled inwardly. Where were her other sisters when she needed them? She was sure one of them had gotten at least a hint of the amazing experience Marley had just had.

  In accordance with tradition, on her twelfth birthday—and to her awful embarrassment—her mother told her about the Bonding, or what it meant to find the perfect partner.

  Marley sneaked a glance across the backseat of the cab at Gray, but started to feel pink and looked away again.

  When a Millet met a suitable partner, their physical reactions to each other were exquisitely heightened. And the first time they made love was a test involving pain before explosive consummation.

  She sank lower in the seat. She refused to let herself consider it all deeply, not now.

  One thing she couldn’t ignore was that although the Millets were not casual, they were eager lovers. She already knew that when they fell for someone only to discover the ultimate chemistry wasn’t there, the disappointment was crushing.

  She did question if exactly the same circumstances applied to male Millets as to female.

  The sensations she’d had just looking at Gray coming toward her on that sidewalk, then touching him and having him touch her—their kiss—didn’t point to disappointment in any department.

  She shivered.

  Gray had paranormal powers, she was certain of that now. There had been too many episodes of mind-meeting to ignore. What did it mean? Should she help him develop his potential? Would he want that? Would he even accept there was anything “abnormal” about him, as Willow would say?

  “It’s going to be okay,” Gray said. “Relax. I got a bit carried away back there, is all. Probably because I was tense, then I was relieved to see you were there and okay.”

  He didn’t get it that the connection he felt to her was unusual when they’d only known each other for such a short time? She kept her distance, leaning against the door.

  “You don’t understand,” she told him.

  “I understand we’re attracted to each other.” He snorted. “That’s a bit weak, isn’t it? In the short time I’ve known you, you’ve taken me from thinking you’re interesting and sexy, to needing you so badly, I hurt.”

  “That’s a bit weak, too,” she said. “You didn’t just hurt, did you? You were in real pain.” She should not have said that to him and she wouldn’t admit to feeling sensations too wild and raw for her to have contained them if there hadn’t been an interruption.

  “Why don’t you want me to know what you felt?” he said.

  Marley didn’t trust herself to say anything.

  “I want you,” he said. In his need he looked haunted. “I’ve got to know if we’re—Are we going to do something about this?”

  You’re the one who will have the control. “Let’s slow down. We’re only together because we’ve got a common problem.” You’ll have to be sure you want me enough to accept everything that goes with me.

  “Yeah,” he said, trying to hold her hand. “Much more than a problem and we both know what that is.”

  He had taken his first shot of the vaunted Millet Sexual Compatibility Potential Assessment like a man. She smiled very faintly. Anything less from him would have been a surprise. He was virile, incredibly strong and currently distracted from what should be his main purpose. Whether they liked it or not, they were tied into a crime wave.

  “You haven’t told me what went on inside that house,” she said.

  “It can wait.”

  “No, it can’t. Time is something we don’t have, Gray. Do you have any idea how helpless it feels not to be able to find Liza and Amber when I’ve seen both of them? It feels as if I’m treading very deep water and I can’t move. It’s desperate!”

  “I know, I know. We’re doing the best we can.”

  He ran a forefinger along the side of her hand where it rested on the seat. They both sucked in a sharp breath.

  “We can’t get into our feelings now,” Marley said. “Why are we going to the Faubourg Marigny?”

  “I live there. And work there.”

  She stiffened. “No, Gray. I know what you’re thinking and this isn’t the time.” There might never be a time for them, but he couldn’t even guess the energy it would cost him to make love to her—if he was what she suspected him to be: her predestined Bond Partner. If she tried to explain the danger she could be to him, he wouldn’t believe her.

  Neither of them were ready.

  “Relax,” he said and she could see muscles jerking in his cheek. “If it’s okay with you I need to check in on my father before we do anything else. He isn’t in great shape.”

  “I’m sorry,” she said. Until now she hadn’t thought about his family or even where he might live. “You live with your dad?”

  “My dad lives in part of the house. He’s in a wheelchair. He can get out into the sunroom at the back, but that’s about it. He’s quite a guy. Never complains. I’ve never heard him say, ‘why me?’ even once.”

  She didn’t need to remark on seeing how much Gray loved his father. “What’s wrong with him?” she asked. “If it’s okay for me to ask?”

  “It’s complicated. His bones are deteriorating. It started ten years ago. We thought he’d just live with it and do fine, but he’s in a wheelchair now.” He sucked in a corner of his mouth. “I think seeing him looking so much smaller is the hardest, and what an effort it is for him to do even the little things.�


  “You’ll want to be with him on your own,” she said. “Why don’t I carry straight on once you get out at your place?”

  “I’d like you to meet Gus.”

  Marley took in a breath. “Okay.” She couldn’t refuse to see his sick father.

  You should be putting distance between the two of you as fast as you can. She hadn’t asked for any of this to happen. But it wasn’t as simple as running away now that the connection had been made, even if only in its beginning stages.

  By last night she had almost convinced herself that Gray couldn’t have been the man she saw on the second journey, the one when she had encountered Amber. But why did he appear to have a facial scar outside the shop when she could see no trace of it now?

  She didn’t have the luxury of blaming her mind for playing tricks….

  “I think we should—”

  “Here we are,” Gray said. He hopped out of the cab and ran around to her side.

  Once she was on the sidewalk, he paid off the taxi driver and turned her toward a classic Creole cottage. Faced with red brick, shutters beside the door and windows were dark green. Arched dormer windows in the roof flanked a single chimney. Although the front of the house was flush with the sidewalk, overflowing window boxes and hanging baskets softened the facade. These cottages usually had a garden at the back.

  “This is so pretty,” she said. “I’ve always liked these cottages. This is one of the later ones, isn’t it?”

  “We’ve done a lot of work on it,” Gray said. He looked the place over. “The second story was added, and the sunroom. I grew up here. It was a great place for that. Come on in.”

  They found Gus Fisher in the sunroom Gray had mentioned, leaning forward in his wheelchair to water plants along a windowsill. He turned as soon as they stepped down from a small kitchen onto the red tiled floor in a glass-enclosed area where pots lined most surfaces.

  “Hey, what do we have here?” he said to Gray with a huge grin on his too-thin face. “Who have you dared to bring me? I’m tough, you know, ma’am, don’t take to strangers easily.”

  Gray laughed and so did his father.

  Marley looked from one to the other, searching for family likenesses. She didn’t find any. Gus’s hair was still more sandy than gray and he had nothing of Gray’s dark blond elegance. From the set of the man’s frame, Gus must have been a big man before the flesh fell away, but Marley visualized him more as a workhorse than a racehorse. His big-knuckled hands dwarfed a long-spouted green plastic watering can.

  “This is Marley, Dad,” Gray said. “A friend of mine.”

  Gus’s bushy brows shot up. He had bright blue eyes. “Hats off to your taste, son. She’s a pretty thing.”

  Gray shrugged and grinned at her. He seemed perfectly comfortable with Gus’s forthright approach.

  “You’re a surprise,” Gus said. “I thought your species had died out.”

  Confused, Marley smiled politely.

  “A woman my son brings home. Never happened before.”

  “Quit blabbing,” Gray said. “I’ve got secrets I want to keep, like you, you old coot. You think I’d risk letting you meet just anyone?”

  “Nope,” Gus said. His smile had disappeared. “Nope, I don’t reckon I think that at all.”

  He gave Marley a look that lasted long enough to make her uncomfortable.

  “Everything okay with you?” Gray asked his dad hurriedly.

  “You bet.” He frowned at his son. “What’s on your mind? Can you talk about it in front of Marley, or do we get her some earplugs?”

  Marley put a hand over her mouth to hide a grin.

  “She doesn’t need earplugs.”

  “I’m part of the problem,” she said, surprising herself. “I mean—”

  “You mean you’re part of the problem,” Gus cut in. “I already figured that out. But I’m betting Gray’s just as much involved. He’s got a way of falling in the middle of things. Gray, where are your manners? Get Marley settled.”

  “Yessir,” Gray said, smiling at Marley.

  Her heart made an unaccustomed flip.

  “You can have the rocker with the patchwork quilt, or the rocker with the sunflower quilt. Take your pick.”

  Marley took the patchwork.

  “What time is it?” Gus said.

  “Four already,” Gray said, looking at his watch. “This day has gone by fast.”

  “They tend to when you’re having fun,” Gus said, his expression innocent. “I’ll take a little whiskey. It’s early, but what the hell.”

  “You’ve got it.” Gray poured from a bottle on a wheeled cart with a floral tablecloth draped over it. “Same for you, Marley?”

  She saw the wisp of a smile on his lips and almost called his bluff. “I’ll pass, thank you. I’m a cheap drunk so I avoid strong stuff most of the time.”

  “Let me know when you feel like letting your resolve sag,” Gray said.

  She ignored that and said, “Do I see iced tea?”

  “Sure do,” Gray said and filled two tall glasses.

  “You were late last night,” Gus said to Gray. “Or this morning. Then you were gone before I got up. You any farther forward with this thing?”

  Gray raised one eyebrow.

  “Don’t play cute with me,” Gus said. “I’ve still got friends in the right places and even if I didn’t, I can put the pieces together from what information they’ve put out to the public. We’d better be praying the one body is the only one. Gator attack, huh? How does that fit in with murder?”

  “Damned if I know,” Gray said.

  Gus coughed. “That woman, Pipes, showed up again so the others could, too.”

  Marley wound her hands together tightly. She avoided meeting eyes.

  “But you don’t think so, Marley,” Gus said. “You think there are at least two more dead women.”

  “If they aren’t dead now I think they’re going to be.” She closed her mouth, shocked that she’d just made such an announcement.

  “Gus is one of those cops who get you talking without you even knowing what’s happening,” Gray said. “And he’s got the kind of intuition you’re born with. He knows this town and he respects elements some of us try to pretend don’t exist.”

  What exactly did all that mean?

  Gus looked at her intently. Despite the deep vertical lines in his face, his stooped back and the way his check shirt and khaki pants hung against bony limbs, life sparked in his face and a quick smile. He watched her quizzically.

  “Are you waiting for me to say something?” she asked at last.

  “Only if you want to,” Gus said. “Some of us carry secrets with us. Secrets or suspicions or even knowledge—mostly about people or a person—that we’d like to share with someone else. First we have to decide when we’ve found the right one to trust with our mysterious stuff. Then there’s another decision—whether it’s a good idea to share even if you have found the right person. Truth can hurt. It can be more than someone’s ready to deal with.”

  Marley glanced at Gray. He took a deep breath and brought Marley her glass of tea. “Gus doesn’t always want an answer,” he said, meeting her eyes.

  Their fingers touched against the glass.

  Marley inhaled sharply. The skin on her face tightened and grew cold. She barely stopped herself from reaching her face up toward him.

  Gray smiled a little and brushed her cheek with the back of a finger.

  Then they both stopped breathing.

  “My God,” he murmured.

  Marley’s heart beat double time, and where he had touched her, the skin pulsed.

  “This is all about the big story, isn’t it?” Gus said. “Those women are some of the ones you’re writing about, Gray.”

  “Yes. I need to get on with writing about them, too.”

  “Did you talk to Nat Archer yet? He’s bound to find out you knew them.”

  Gus and Nat were mutual fans.

  “Yes,” Gray
said. “I went to him first.” He explained how yesterday had unfolded, but stopped short of talking about anything from the previous evening onward.

  “How come you were there?” Gus said to Marley. “At Nat’s.”

  Marley closed her eyes. She didn’t know what to say. Uncle Pascal insisted that honesty trumped everything else unless it could hurt someone. Then he encouraged them to trust their instincts.

  Gray hadn’t brought her to his home, to his father, casually. He wanted to see them together and that had to be because he valued Gus’s insights.

  She turned to Gray, who shrugged faintly. He was tossing the decision on answering Gus back to her.

  “My family…” Where did she start with her story and how did she make it short? “We’re not like some people.” She shrugged.

  Gus laughed. “I didn’t want to say it right off, but as soon as I heard your name I figured who you were. I know about your family. Paranormal powers, every one of you. Or so the story goes. And I’m looking at the red hair. That is really red.”

  “I like it,” Gray said sharply.

  Gus laughed again. “I think my boy likes you a lot, Marley. He’s already defending you. I think your hair is real pretty. Never saw anything quite like it before. You could say it doesn’t look like any color a person would be born with, but I guess you must have been.”

  “It is natural,” she said, chuckling. “You should see my sister, Willow. Now that’s amazing hair.”

  “I’ll look forward to that,” Gus said. “You haven’t told me why you were at Nat Archer’s office.”

  She did tell him. Sometimes rushing, sometimes halting, Marley made her way through the story of her travels to the cold room, and she waited for Gus to become dismissive, or to be politely disbelieving.

  “Your family has been through a lot,” he said. “It’s never easy when you don’t fit into any mold. You lucked out again, Gray—this one could be a keeper.”

  Marley wanted to ask him why he’d think that, but knew better.

  “Things are moving even while they don’t seem to be,” Gus said. “You two are tryin’ to make things go faster than they’re meant to. While you’re doing your thing, the cops are busy, and the rest of them. Wouldn’t be surprised if our old friend Dr. Death is having a hand in something.”

 

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