by Hope, Anne
Angie quickly ladled soup into his bowl, focusing her attention on the task at hand, turning her thoughts away from the enticing mental image of a man who didn’t exist.
She finished serving the soup, happy when everyone was fed. Removing her apron, she prepared to walk to Reach headquarters, where she could man the phone lines.
She remembered how pleased her dad had been the day she’d told him she wanted to volunteer at the charity organization he’d founded. His face had shone with pride. It was only a few months later that his heart had given out, completely devastating Angie’s family. Tina had retreated further into herself, and her ever-escalating concern for Angie’s health and safety had stolen whatever peace of mind her mother had once possessed. Angie had taken on a supporting role at home, while struggling to cope with her own feelings of guilt and grief.
The only way she’d survived the loss of her father was by channeling all her energy into Reach. Every time she grew tired or discouraged, she pictured the look of pride on her dad’s face, and her drive and faith were instantly restored.
The two-block stroll to the main office was pleasant and uneventful. Traffic roared all around her, but she ignored it, choosing to focus on the people instead, on the animated chatter of the pedestrians, on the click of heels striking the pavement, on the occasional laugh or cry emitted by a child in a stroller. Car exhaust mingled with the foul air rising from the sewers, but Angie didn’t mind. This was the smell of home, as familiar and dear to her as the scent of her own perfume.
She arrived at the building that housed Reach and pushed open the glass doors, only to stop dead in her tracks. The illusion of peace shattered as effectively as a crystal vase striking the floor. The ground beneath Angie’s feet tilted.
Standing at the threshold, tall, striking and undeniably real, was none other than the phantom from her dream.
Adrian felt her before he saw her. Angie’s energy traveled through the air and wrapped itself around him. He turned to meet her gaze, his heart pounding, his blood warming even as he willed himself to remain unaffected. He took a step toward her, froze when he saw the look on her face.
There was shock in her multi-flecked eyes. Shock and a hint of recognition.
Impossible. He’d wiped her memory clean. Last night should be nothing but a drunken blur to her. But apparently, some hidden part of her remembered him.
He never should’ve come here. He should’ve kept his distance as he’d initially intended. But until he knew for a fact that Cal had cloaked her, he couldn’t risk leaving her exposed. She was too vulnerable to Kyros, especially without her memories to warn her of the danger his uncle posed.
Too late now. She’d seen him. All he could do was make the most of a dicey situation.
He approached her and flashed his most disarming smile. “Hi, the name’s Adrian.” He reached out his hand to her.
She looked at his outstretched palm as though it were an alien object, the limb of a ghost or a figment of her imagination. After an uncomfortably long pause, she finally met his handshake. Energy instantly resonated from their joined palms.
“Angie,” she croaked.
Adrian dug into his pocket and pulled out the flyer she’d handed him last night. “I got ahold of one of these,” he told her, “and I have to say, I’m impressed. You’ve got quite an operation here. I’d like to volunteer.”
“Why?”
That one simple word took him off guard. “I’ve got my reasons.”
She seemed to regret the question. “Yes, of course. I didn’t mean to put you on the spot. It’s just— Forgive me, I’m not myself today. Let me get you a form to fill out.”
She hastened behind the unoccupied reception desk and rummaged through the drawers. “Patricia is usually the one in charge of applications. I don’t know where she’s disappeared to.”
Adrian did. He’d willed the receptionist to take a really long lunch break so he could hang around the reception area and wait for Angie.
“Aha, here it is.” She pulled out a white sheaf of paper and handed it to him. “Just write down all your information, and I’ll make sure Patricia gets it.”
“I was hoping I could get started right away.”
“That’s not possible. All potential volunteers are carefully screened. We need to check your references first. But if everything pans out, you could start tomorrow.” She stared at him, and the undisguised wonder on her face delivered a well-aimed blow to his chest.
For one halted breath, he couldn’t find his voice to respond. He wanted to touch her, to kiss her again, to lose himself in the heat of her arms and the floral scent of her hair. Since he’d made the mistake of holding her, he couldn’t chase the delicious feel of her from his skin.
It was she who finally broke the silence. “You look familiar. Have we met before?”
“I doubt it,” he lied. “I think I would’ve remembered you.”
Angie blinked, clearing her throat as though his words had embarrassed her. She handed him a pen, which he studied dumbly. “So you can fill out the application,” she reminded him.
“Right.” He got right to it. None of the information he provided was true, but it didn’t matter. As soon as Patricia returned, he would convince the woman that he was a stellar citizen and that all his references checked out. Then he could get down to the business of protecting Angie.
He handed her the form, his fingers grazing hers. A wave of pure heat lapped through him at the touch. He knew right there and then that this woman would push him to the breaking point and inspire him to learn temperance and control even as her very presence threatened to steal every pathetic ounce of willpower he possessed.
“I have to go man the phones. See you tomorrow?” She gave him a smile so radiant he damn near choked on his own heart.
“Sure. Tomorrow.”
Adrian watched her walk away from him, knowing full well she wouldn’t escape him that easily. He had no intention of letting her out of his sight, even if he had to follow her around like a deranged stalker.
Somehow, the thought wasn’t as unpleasant as it should’ve been. In fact, the darkest, most forbidden part of him looked forward to the task.
Chapter Eleven
Adrian arrived at Reach bright and early the next morning, eager to get started. He knew Angie would be there because he’d spent the night crouching in the shadows, watching her. He still hadn’t heard back from Marcus, but thankfully Kyros had yet to make an appearance.
Maybe his uncle was losing his touch. The longer it took for the Kleptopsych to track Angie down, the greater the probability the trail would grow cold.
Patricia sat behind the massive reception desk, waiting to greet him with a welcoming smile. “I didn’t expect you in so early.”
“I’m anxious to learn everything I can about the program.”
“Good. If you’re going to do this, you’ll need a truckload of enthusiasm and motivation. This isn’t an easy job. I’ve seen it take its toll on a lot of well-meaning people. Sadly, not everyone’s cut out for this.”
Adrian nodded. “I get that. But I can handle it. I don’t succumb to emotion easily.”
Patricia scrutinized him for a long, uncomfortable moment. Then, deciding he was up to the task, she nodded. “I’ll get Lydia to show you around. She’s the one who trains the new volunteers—”
Angie. He dropped the suggestion into the receptionist’s mind the way one drops a survey card into a box.
Patricia’s eyes instantly clouded, a crease forming between her brows. “Actually, I think I’ll get Angie to do the honors this time. No one knows their way around the place better. She’s scheduled to conduct a counseling session in about an hour. Maybe you can sit in.”
He hitched his shoulder, gave her an innocent grin. “Sounds great.”
Within seconds, Patricia had Angie on the line. “Could you come down to reception? I’ve got a new volunteer I’d like you to train.”
Angie shuffled in
to the reception area, trying not to let her bewilderment or nervousness show. She’d never trained anyone before. Why Patricia was asking her to do so now, with Lydia only a door away, was another one of life’s great mysteries.
When she saw the man she’d met yesterday standing at the heart of the room, looking relaxed and too damn handsome for his own good, the butterflies in her stomach multiplied.
No, not him. Anyone but him.
She wasn’t sure why his presence unsettled her so, why she had the nagging feeling that they’d met before. The sight of him brought back all the disturbing images she’d seen in her dream the other night and made her lips hum with the memory of an illicit kiss.
Biting her lower lip to quell the odd sensation, she approached him warily. “You came back.” Her voice sounded foreign to her, husky and a touch winded.
“I told you I would.”
“You two know each other?” Patricia asked, surprised.
“We met yesterday,” Angie explained. “I gave him an application to fill out.” Tamping down all her ridiculous jitters, she turned to Adrian. “Are you ready to get started?”
“You bet. The sooner the better.” He gave her a lopsided grin, and the butterflies went wild. She hadn’t noticed yesterday, but when he smiled his left cheek dimpled in the most appealing manner.
“Good. Follow me.” She guided him down the corridor, stopping briefly to explain things to him along the way. “This is Lydia’s office.” She indicated the door on their left. “She has a degree in psychology, so she’s the most qualified person here. If there’s anything you need to know, Lydia’s the person to ask.”
The hotline room was located at the end of the hall. Through the large glass doors, several desks squatted in even rows. At the moment, only two volunteers sat manning the phones. “This is the hotline room,” she told Adrian. “Sooner or later you’ll be asked to take calls. The best thing you can do is listen. Many of these kids just need to talk to someone who doesn’t know them and won’t judge them.”
Adrian stood at the door, staring through the glass, his expression unreadable, his thoughts closed off to her.
“Do you have any questions?” He hadn’t said a word since they’d begun their tour.
“Nope. Just taking it all in.”
Angie drew a deep breath and continued. “I’ll take you to the halfway house later. That’s where we feed and board our charges.”
“Charges?”
Apprehension fisted in her gut. “Exactly how much do you know about Reach?”
“Enough.” His answer was way too vague to be convincing.
“So you’re aware that Reach is part of a special program catering to troubled youth, designed to smooth the transition from juvenile hall to life outside?”
The blank stare Adrian gave her was all the answer she needed. “I’m not talking about kids convicted of violent crimes,” she clarified, “nothing incorrigible like rape or murder. Every candidate is carefully screened before being admitted into the program. Most of the kids you’ll find at the halfway house are guilty of petty theft or fraud.”
“So what exactly happens when a candidate is admitted?”
Finally, a question. Angie was starting to feel this was a one-way conversation. “We house him, feed him, counsel him, and when Lydia feels he’s ready, we either find him a more permanent home or help him find work.”
She shook her head regretfully. “You’d be amazed how many of these kids have nowhere to go after they get out of juvie. The ones we admit into the program often have no families to speak of, and once they reach eighteen, the foster system won’t have them. They’re on their own, with no money, no real skills to speak of and no hope of turning their lives around. Without Reach, they’d be back to stealing cars or picking pockets within weeks of being released from jail.”
“That’s how things usually go. The road to redemption isn’t exactly paved in gold.” The caustic note she caught in his voice perplexed her. Most Reach volunteers possessed an almost utopian sense of optimism.
Adrian didn’t sound like an optimist. He sounded like a cynic. So what was he doing volunteering for an outreach program?
“Can I ask you a question?”
His gaze captured hers, and something hot and frantic fluttered in her chest. “Go ahead.”
She almost forgot what she wanted to ask him. Her thoughts felt scrambled, like the pieces of a jigsaw puzzle struggling to come together. “Why are you here? Really?”
His stare was so focused, so penetrating, it was as though he could see straight into her soul. His eyes caressed her, traced the curve of her cheek to finally settle on her mouth. Her traitorous lips began to thrum again, and she wet them in automatic response.
Silence stretched between them, so deep Angie didn’t expect him to answer her question. But he did. “Because somebody really special once told me I had the power to change the world.”
His role was only to observe. Angie had made that, if nothing else, clear. More than happy to comply, Adrian sat in a quiet corner of the sun-dappled room, watching Angie moderate a counseling session.
The whole setup reminded him of an AA meeting, not that he’d ever attended one. It was physically impossible for him to become addicted to any of the substances humans were so susceptible to. Adrian had one and only one vice. He craved souls.
He was tempted to stand up and say, “Hi, my name is Adrian and I’m a soul thief,” but he fought the urge. He wasn’t here to have his misplaced conscience soothed. He was here to protect it.
One after another, the attendees confessed their crimes, gushing unendingly about their misguided childhoods. They blamed their parents, the lousy neighborhoods they grew up in, the shady company they kept. Funnily enough, not a single one of these guys had the guts to blame himself.
Why was it so difficult for humans to accept responsibility for their actions? Why did they always feel the need to string together a medley of pathetic excuses? If he had to listen to another miserable account of how society had let one of these losers down, he’d be compelled to hit something.
When the next guy stood up to speak, Adrian decided to give him a friendly nudge.
Drop the pretense. Say what’s really on your mind.
The kid was stocky, nearly six-feet tall with the shoulders of a quarterback, thick, muscular arms and hands that looked strong enough to snap a baseball bat in two. “My name’s Eddie, and I’m not sure why I do the things I do.” The burly youth spoke without hesitation. “There’s this darkness inside me, this ugly power. People can’t see it, but somehow they sense it, and they hate me for it.”
Adrian realized the mistake he’d just made. He’d never assumed one of these thugs would turn out to be a Hybrid. He should’ve anticipated it, though. Most Hybrids led troubled lives before they turned. It wasn’t inconceivable that one would show up here. More surprising was how easily the kid had responded to Adrian’s mental nudge. Hybrids often proved harder to influence due to the dark energy coursing through their veins. Maybe deep down Eddie had wanted to confess. A secret like this could grow heavy over the years.
Angie’s eyes glowed with interest and a glimmer of concern. “This darkness, can you describe it?”
“It’s like this deep, black hole. It screams for violence. Death. I’m not sure how much longer I can fight it.”
She faltered, and a pregnant pause followed. It was obvious she had no clue how to handle this. Angie was used to counseling small-time crooks. She knew nothing of the darkness that plagued Adrian’s kind or the type of damage it could wreak on an unsuspecting world.
“The only way to fight it is to hold on to your humanity.” All eyes swiveled Adrian’s way, but he ignored the sudden attention. “Your conscience is the only thing that can keep the darkness at bay.”
Like his uncle, Adrian had the ability to see a Hybrid’s connection to his soul. It was particularly easy to see Eddie’s because the boy’s soul had yet to leave his body. It wre
stled within him, a pulsing light that was in a state of constant battle.
Understanding flickered in Eddie’s chocolate-brown eyes. “You know.” Wonder thinned the kid’s voice. “You know how it is.”
Angie watched him expectantly, and Adrian feared he’d already revealed too much of himself, but he couldn’t seem to stop himself. “It won’t be easy. The darkness can be really stubborn, but you’ve got a definite ace up your sleeve.”
Doubt stole the luster from Eddie’s gaze. “And what’s that?”
“Your conscience. As far as I can tell, it’s pretty damn strong.”
The kid wanted to believe him; it was obvious in the tempered hope that fought to claim his features. “You really think so?”
In that moment, looking at Eddie’s conflicted face, seeing firsthand how desperately the kid yearned for redemption, something shifted within Adrian. It was as though his own darkness receded, and an unfamiliar feeling quietly edged in to take its place. That feeling was hope.
Was it possible? Could monsters be redeemed? Could a creature born in darkness ever walk in the light? Cal had managed to harness black energy and turn it into something good. Adrian’s father was a living, breathing example of that. Maybe there was a way to help this kid and all the others like him. A way that didn’t require him to fight a war he didn’t believe in or sign his name in blood.
“Yeah, I do.”
Chapter Twelve
The counseling session came to an end, and one by one the kids filed out of the room. Adrian stood, but Angie grabbed him by the arm to stop him from leaving. “What was that all about?”
His incisive gaze fastened on to hers, and she fought not to be intimidated by it. Adrian had a way of sucking the air from a room and leaving her feeling weak-kneed and breathless.
“I thought you understood that you were only here to observe,” she persisted. “No one jumps in with both feet on their first day.” These kids were volatile, sometimes emotionally unstable. One wrong word could push them over the edge. She’d seen fights break out in counseling sessions. Sometimes blood was even shed. Granted, those occurrences were rare, but they did happen.
