the driver’s door.
She could barely believe he had the audacity to spy on her.
On an indignant sigh she whispered,
“He followed me. Why, that heavy-handed son of a ” “Very good,
although I suspect his reason for being posted there is known to you
full well. This was a trap, was it not? Lure me here, and then your
attentive friend over there ” “Lure you here? Why on earth would I
lure you here, and how, for God’s sake? I told you I’ve never seen you
before.”
“You call to me nightly, Tamara. You’ve begged me to come to you until
you’ve nearly driven me insane.”
“I don’t think it would be a long trip. I told you, I haven’t called
you.
I don’t even know your name.”
Again his gaze searched her face and she felt her mind being
searched.
He sighed, frowning until his brows met.
“Suppose you tell me why you think that gent would follow you, then?”
“Knowing Curt, he probably thinks it’s for my own good. God knows he
tosses that phrase around enough lately.”
Her anger softened a bit, as she thought it through more thoroughly.
“He might be a little worried about me.
I know Daniel is.
my guardian, that is.
Frankly, I’m worried myself.
I don’t sleep at night anymore—not ever.
The only time I feel even slightly like sleeping is during the day.
In fact, I’ve fallen asleep at my desk twice now.
I take to my bed the second I get home and sleep like a rock, but only
until dusk.
Just at nightfall I have terrible nightmares and usually cry out loud
enough to convince them both I’m losing my mind, and then I’m up and
restless all night lo”— She broke off, realizing she was blurting her
life story to a perfect stranger.
“Please don’t stop,” he said at once.
He seemed keenly interested in hearing more.
“Tell me about these nightmares.”
He must’ve seen her wariness.
He reached out to her, touched her cheek with the tips of his long,
narrow fingers.
“I only want to help you. I mean you no harm.”
She shook her head.
“You’ll only agree with me that I’m slipping around the bend.”
He frowned.
“Cracking up,” she explained.
She pointed one finger at her ear and made little circles.
“Wacko.”
“You most certainly are not… wacko, as you put it.”
His hand slipped around to the back of her head and he drew her
nearer.
She didn’t resist.
She hadn’t felt so perfectly at peace in months as she felt in his
arms.
He held her gently against him, as if she were a small child, and one
hand stroked her hair.
“Tell me, Tamara.”
She sighed, unable to resist the smooth allure of his voice, or of his
touch, though she knew it made no sense.
“It’s dark, and there is a jungle of sorts, and a lot of fog and mist
covering the ground so I can’t see my feet. I trip a lot as I run. I
don’t know if I’m running toward something or away from something. I
know I’m looking for someone, and in the dream I know that person can
help me find my way. But I call and call and he doesn’t answer.”
He stopped stroking her hair all at once, and she thought he tensed.
“To whom do you call?”
“I think that might be what’s driving me crazy. I can never remember.
I wake as breathless and exhausted as if I really had been running
through that forest, sometimes halfway through shouting his name—but I
just can’t remember.”
His breath escaped in a rush.
“Tamara, how does the dream make you feel?”
She stepped away from him and studied his face.
“Are you a psychologist?” ” No.
” “Then I shouldn’t be telling you any of this.”
She tried to pull her gaze from his familiar face.
“Because I really don’t know you.”
She stiffened as her name was shouted from across the ice.
“Tam my!”
She grimaced.
“I hate when he calls me that.”
She searched the eyes of her stranger again, and again she felt as if
she’d just had a long-awaited reunion with someone she adored.
“Are you real, or a part of my insanity?
” No, don’t tell me, she thought suddenly.
/ don’t want to know.
“I’d better go before Curt worries himself into a stroke.”
“Does he have the right to worry?”
She paused, frowning.
“If you mean is he my husband, the answer is no.
We’re close, but not in a romantic way.
He’s more like a.
bossy older brother.
” She turned and skated away across the ice toward Curt, but she felt
his gaze on her back all the way there.
She tried to glance over her shoulder to see if he was still there,
but she caught no sight of him.
Then she approached Curt and slowed her pace.
He’d been hurrying across the ice, toward her.
He gripped her upper arm hard, and marched her off the edge of the
ice.
On the snowy ground she stumbled on her skates, but he continued
propelling her at the same pace until they reached the nearest bench,
and then he shoved her down onto the seat.
“Who the hell was that man?”
She shrugged, relieved that Curtis had seen him, too.
“Just a stranger I met.”
“I want his name!”
She frowned at the authority and anger in his voice.
Curt had always been bossy but this was going too far.
“We didn’t get around to exchanging names, and what business is it of
yours, anyway?” ” You’re telling me you don’t know who that was?
” She nodded. ” The hell you don’t,” he exploded. He gripped her
shoulders, pulled her to her feet and held her hard. He glared at her
and would have frightened her if she hadn’t known him so well. ” What
did you think you were doing sneaking out alone at night like that?
Well?
” “Skating! Ouch.”
His fingers bit into her shoulders.
“I was only skating. Curt. You know I can’t sleep. I thought some
exercise ” “Bull. You came out here to meet him, didn’t you?”
“Who? That nice man I was talking to? For God’s sake, Curtis, I “
“Talking to? That’s a nice name for it. I saw you, Tam my. You were
in his arms.”
Anger flared.
“I don’t care if I had sex with the man in the middle of the rink,
Curtis Rogers. I’m a grown woman and what I do is my business. You
followed me here! I don’t care how worried Daniel gets, I will not
put up with you spying on me, and I won’t defend my actions to you.
Who do you think you are?
” His grip tightened and he shook her once then again.
“The truth, Tam my. Dammit, you’ll tell me the truth!”
He shook her until her head wobbled on her shoulders.
“You know who he was, don’t you? You came here to meet him, didn’t
you?
Didn’t you!”
“L-let me go.-Curt-tis you’re-rr… hurt-ting…”
Her vision had blurred from the shaking and the fear that she didn’t
know Curt as well as she thought she did but not so much that she
couldn’t see the dark form silhouetted beyond Curtis.
She knew who stood there.
She’d felt his presence.
maybe even before she’d seen him.
She felt something else, too.
His blinding anger.
“Take your hands off her,” the stranger growled, his voice quivering
with barely contained rage.
Curt went rigid.
His hands fell to his sides and his eyes widened.
Tamara took a step back, her hand moving to massage one tender, bruised
shoulder.
The heat of the stranger’s gaze on her made her look up.
Those black eyes had followed the movement of her hand and his anger
heated still more.
But how can I know that?
Curtis turned to face him, and took a step backward.
away from the man’s imposing form.
Well, at least she now knew he was real.
She couldn’t take her gaze from him, nor he from her, it seemed.
Her lips throbbed with the memory of his moving over them.
She felt as if he knew it.
She should say something, she thought vaguely.
Sensible or not, she knew the man was about to throttle Curtis.
Before she could think of a suitable deterrent, though, Curtis croaked,
“M-Marquand!”
She’d never heard his voice sound the way it did.
Tamara felt the shock like a physical blow.
Her gaze shot back to the stranger’s face again.
He regarded Curtis now.
A small, humorless smile appeared on his lips, and he nodded to
Curt.
A sudden move caught her eye, and she glimpsed Curt thrusting a hand
inside his jacket, as the bad guys did on television when reaching for
a hidden gun.
She stiffened in panic, but relaxed when he pulled out only a small
gold crucifix, which he held toward Marquand straight-armed, in a
white-knuckled grip.
For a moment the stranger didn’t move.
He stared fixedly at the golden symbol as if frozen.
She watched him intently, shivering as her fingers involuntarily
touched the spot on her throat, and she recalled the feel of those
skimming incisors.
Could he truly be a vampire?
The smile returned, sarcastic and bitter.
He even chuckled, a sound like distant thunder rumbling from deep in
his chest.
He reached out to pluck the cross from Curt’s hand, and he turned it
several times, inspecting it closely.
“Impressive,” he said, and handed it back.
Curt let it fall to the ground and Tamara sighed in relief, but only
briefly.
She understood now what the little encounter between her and Marquand
had been all about.
She resented it.
“You’re really Marquand?”
He sketched an exaggerated bow in her direction.
She couldn’t hold his gaze, embarrassed at her earlier responses to
what, for him, had been only a game.
“I can appreciate why you’re so angry with my guardian. After all,
he’s been hounding you to death. However, it might interest you to
know that I had no part in it. I’ve argued on your behalf until I’m
hoarse with it. I won’t bother to do so anymore. I truly appreciate
that you chose not to haul Daniel into court, but I would not suggest
you attempt to use me to deliver your messages in future.”
She saw his brow cock up again, and she caught her breath.
“Your guardian? You said so once before, but I” — His eyes widened.
“St. Claire?”
“As if you weren’t aware of it before your little performance over
there.”
She shook her head, her fingers once again trailing over the tender
spot on her throat.
“I might even be able to see the humor in it, if I wasn’t already on
the brink of” — She broke off and shook her head as her eyes filled,
and her airways seemed suddenly blocked.
“Tamara, that isn’t what I” — She stopped him by shaking her head
violently.
“I’ll see he gets your message. He may be an ass, Marquand, but I love
him dearly. I don’t want him to bear the brunt of a lawsuit.”
She turned on her heel.
“Tamara, wait! What happened to your parents? How did he—Tamara!”
She ignored him, mounting the ice and speeding to the opposite side,
where she’d left her duffel bag.
She stumbled over the snow to snatch it up, and sat hard on the nearest
bench, bending to unlace her skates.
Her fingers shook.
She could barely see for the tears clouding her vision.
Why was she reacting so strongly to the man’s insensitive ploy?
Why did she feel such an acute sense of betrayal?
Because I’m losing my mind, that’s why.
Anger made her look up.
She felt it as if it were a palpable thing.
She yanked one skate off, stomped her foot into a boot and unlaced the
other without looking.
Her gaze was on Marquand, who had Curtis by the lapels now, and was
shaking him the way Curt had shaken her a few moments ago.
When he stopped he released Curt, shoving him away in the same
motion.
Curt landed on his backside in the snow.
Marquand’s back was all she could see, but she heard his words clearly,
though not with her ears.
If I ever see you lay hands on her again, Rogers, you will pay for it
with your life.
Do I make myself sufficiently clear?
Sufficiently clear to me, Tamara thought.
Curt seemed to be in no danger of being murdered at the moment.
She put her skates in her bag and slipped away while they were still
arguing.
Pain like a skewer running the length of his breastbone, Eric stroked
the pink fur of the earmuffs she’d abandoned in her rush to get away
from him.
She’d left her coat, too.
He carried it slung over one arm as he followed the two.
Rogers had caught up to Tamara only a few minutes after she’d left.
He kept pace with her angry strides, talking constantly in his efforts
to end her anger.
“I’m sorry. Tam my. I swear to you, I didn’t mean to hurt you. Can’t
you understand I was scared half out of my mind when I saw you in his
arms? My God, don’t you know what could’ve happened?”
He scanned the bastard’s mind with his own, and found no indication
that Tamara was in danger from him.
He did the same after they’d entered Daniel St Claire’s gloomy
Victorian mansion, unwilling to leave her in their hands until he could
be certain.
And even then he couldn’t leave.
How the hell had St Claire managed to become her guardian?
When Eric had left her all those years ago she’d had two adoring
parents who’d nearly lost their minds when they’d thought they might
lose her.
He could still see them—the small Miranda, a frail-looking
woman with
mouse brown hair and pretty green eyes brimming with love whenever she
glanced at her adorable child.
She’d been in hysterics that night at the hospital.
Eric had seen her clutching the doctor’s white coat, shaking her head
fast at what he was telling her as tears poured unchecked over her
face.
Her husband’s quiet devastation had been even more painful to
witness.
Kenneth had seemed deflated, sinking into a chair as if he’d never rise
again, his blond hair falling over one eye.
What in hell had happened to them?
He sank to a rotted, snow-dusted stump outside the mansion, his head in
his hands.
“I never should have left her,” he whispered into the night.
“My God, I never should have left her.”
He remained there in anguish until the sky began to pale in the
east.
She now thought he’d only used her to make a point to St Claire.
She obviously had no conscious memory of him, nor knowledge of the
connection between them.
She called to him while in the throes of her subconscious mind—in a
dream.
She couldn’t even recall his name.
She paused outside Daniel’s office door to brace herself, her hand on
the knob.
Last night she’d avoided further confrontation with Curt by pleading
exhaustion, a lie he’d believed since he knew how little sleep she’d
been getting.
This morning she’d deliberately remained in her room, feigning sleep
when Daniel called from the doorway.
She’d known he wouldn’t wake her if he thought she was finally
sleeping.
She’d waited until he left for DPI headquarters in White Plains, then
had got herself ready and driven in late, in her battered VW Bug.
Her day had been packed solid with the trivial work they gave her
there.
Her measly security clearance wasn’t high enough to allow her to work
on anything important.
Except for Jamey Bryant.
He was important—to her, at least.
He was only a class three clairvoyant in DPI’s book, but he was class
one in hers.
Besides, she loved the kid.
She sighed, smiling as she thought of him, then stiffened her spine for
the coming encounter.
She gripped the knob more tightly, then paused as Curt’s voice came
through the wood.
“Look at her! I’m telling you, something is happening and you’re a
fool if you don’t see it.”
“She’s confused,” Daniel said, sounding pained.
At Twilight Page 4
