by Sarah Wynde
CHAPTER TEN
Lucas was an older, tougher, more heavily muscled, more serious version of Zane. They were clearly brothers, but on Lucas, the charm held an edge of danger.
Akira managed not to glare at him, simply smiling tightly as they were introduced. Inwardly, though, she was thinking, Asshole. Damn him for putting her in this situation.
But her eyes narrowed as she saw him rubbing his temple with a wince of pain, as he responded wryly, “It’s a pleasure to meet you, too.” Huh. Did Lucas, like the others in his family, have a psychic gift? But she dismissed the thought as he ushered them through the foyer, past the formal living room, and down a hallway to a more casual but still luxurious family room.
The room held half a dozen people and one very upset ghost. Akira dropped her eyes to the ground on an intake of breath. Shit. The ghost was kneeling by a blonde woman who was sitting at the edge of a plush recliner, her face buried in her hands as if she was too tired, too overwhelmed to hold her head up. He had the flickering, flaring edges of passion, as if his form couldn’t contain his energy.
But it was only tinted a pale red, Akira reassured herself, stealing another glance. Barely pink. That meant that his consciousness, such as it was, was still in control. But murder-suicide? And of a child? It might not matter that the ghost was able to control himself if he didn’t choose to. She could feel her heart beating faster, a pulse pounding in her neck.
No one here knew anything, she realized. No one would be able to help her if the ghost attacked. Abruptly, and for the first time in years, she longed for her father.
A warm hand slid into hers, and squeezed. “Okay?” Zane asked, tone quiet so that only she could hear, eyes intent on her face. She tried to smile at him, but she couldn’t quite manage it. He didn’t understand, she knew. It wasn’t just the ghost: if he knew there was a ghost here, he would think of Dillon or Rose, and not see the problem. But ghost energy was like other energy—and a shock from an electric outlet didn’t compare to getting hit by lightning, a fire in a fireplace was nothing like a burning house.
“I’ll try to make this quick, but—” He looked in the direction of the blonde woman and even though Akira didn’t want to take any chance of the ghost seeing her, she followed his gaze. The woman had lifted her head and the tear stains tracking down her face, the red eyes, the exhaustion were all obvious, even from across the room.
Akira bit her lip. The woman had lost a child. Zane was her chance of finding him, or at least finding answers. He shouldn’t make it quick, he should take as long as he needed to be sure. She pressed her lips together, but said steadily, “I’ll be fine. Take your time.” She hoped her words were true.
He let go of her hand, stroking up her back and resting his hand on her neck for just a second or two, then nodding at her and moving away, crossing the room to where Lucas was standing, almost on top of the ghost.
Akira turned away. A sliding glass door led to a patio, and she crossed to it, not really looking, trying to think through her options if the ghost discovered her. A quick escape? But if he hadn’t died here, he probably wasn’t tied here. She wouldn’t be able to get away from him so easily.
She rested her hand on the door pull anyway, feeling the comfort of the cool metal under her hand. There were plenty of people in the room, she reminded herself, and no reason for the ghost to single her out. As long as she didn’t pay attention to him, he wouldn’t pay attention to her. It would be okay, really it would.
And then her eyes narrowed. Oh, dear. She glanced back at Zane. The blonde had stood and was shaking hands with him, an uncertain hope on her face. Akira bit her lip and looked back out into the yard. And then, with a sigh, she flipped open the lock on the door and stepped outside. She tried to feel resolute, but really, she was mostly just hoping she didn’t wind up regretting what she was about to do.
