Why in the world had they ever been relegated to the garage? She shook her head. Imagine taking the chance that weather or bugs could ruin them. It boggled the mind. A ray of sunlight was caught and trapped in a ruby and amber bowl. The sheer beauty of the glowing glass robbed Kalesia of breath. She knew the perfect place for it.
Over an hour later, Kalesia stopped to admire her handiwork. Excitement bubbled up, her earlier doubts banished. How could Gabriel not love it? Against the backdrop of the newly painted wall, the faded but still bold blues, greens and creams of the quilt drew and held the eye. Tucked in a seemingly random pattern, the glass bowls and vases were brilliant spills of color. Even the forgettable beige sofa took on new life once the equally bland throw pillows were replaced by the jewel-toned ones, inviting one to sit and curl up.
She glanced at her watch, wondering if she dared start painting another wall. Nah, she decided. Better not. Who knew how much longer he’d be up there. Her mouth quirked. Besides, small doses might go down better. You didn’t have to be a rocket scientist to know Gabriel didn’t accept change well.
Out of the corner of her eye, Kalesia saw a plume of dust race up the road and recognized the mail truck. Mindful of Gabriel’s instructions, she waited until it left before walking out to the box. Enjoying the smell of just-cut grass and the earthy, freshwater scent of the river, she automatically sorted through the mail as she strolled back to the house.
Odd. One of the letters was addressed to her. Frowning, she tapped the legal size manila envelope with one thumbnail. Perhaps Tom had found some information he believed useful and sent it along.
Back inside the house, out of the broiling heat, Kalesia studied the envelope more closely. There was no return address but it was postmarked yesterday. Almost shaking with a combination of excitement and dread, she opened the envelope and shook out the contents.
Several black and white photographs drifted to the floor before she could prevent them. Kneeling, she reached out a hand to gather them only to use it to cover her mouth instead. Nausea rose, threatening to choke her at the vile images.
Images of graphic scenes of torture and death were scattered like confetti on the hardwood floor. Her legs refused to support her and she half-fell, half-sat on the cool surface, her mind vehemently denied what it was seeing. Feeling dazed, she remembered the envelope.
Hand shaking, she reached for it and opened it again. Inside she found several reports. Bile burned the back of her throat as she read, making her eyes water.
Or was she crying?
Kalesia shook her head. It didn’t matter. What mattered was what she held in her hand.
Unable to believe her eyes, she reread the reports a second and then third time, forcing herself to absorb the typed words. They didn’t change. She gathered the damning evidence, making herself look at the pictures again, one at a time.
The evidence was irrefutable.
The truth was spelled out in black and white.
A slight sound caused her to look up from the horrifying pictures. Gabriel stood at the base of the stairs. From his stillness, Kalesia knew he realized something was drastically wrong.
Her stomach lurched. She put her hand there, rubbing the ache. He had been lying to her all along.
Gabriel Steele hadn’t been a police officer, undercover or otherwise.
“You were an assassin.”
Chapter Ten
A shutter dropped like a stone, veiling the gray eyes of all emotion. Gabriel glanced at the reports and photographs clutched in her hand. Kalesia hadn’t the faintest idea what was running through his mind. It was almost as if she were back at their first meeting, confronted by a stranger who eyed her with cold dispassion.
“Is that what you believe?” Gabriel sounded as if he didn’t care one way or the other what she believed. He looked almost bored.
“Can you deny these?” she choked out, her hand shaking as she waved the damning pictures in the air. Gabriel moved to take them and Kalesia shied away from him before she could prevent it. A flicker of emotion moved in his eyes then but it was gone too quickly to read. He took the sheaf, careful not to touch her. Kalesia held her breath as Gabriel studied them thoroughly. Maybe she had jumped to a conclusion, she thought, unable to prevent the tiny flame of something not quite hope.
Gabriel handed them back impassively. “Would you believe me?”
Something vital in Kalesia shriveled and died. A lie. All a lie. The man she had trusted more than any other, the man she had learned to depend upon, was a lie. A façade. Bitter, hysterical laughter welled up. Kalesia bit her lip, determined not to allow Gabriel to see how devastated she was. Unable to bear the pain, she lashed out, wanting to hurt him as he had hurt her.
“You lied to me,” she accused in a tight whisper.
Raw, naked agony slashed across his face, shattering the controlled mask for a single instance.
Hot, burning triumph filled Kalesia. So he wasn’t totally immune. Before she could resume her attack, a mask of hard indifference replaced the agony.
“Yes, I lied.” Abruptly, Gabriel turned on his heel. Kalesia was left wondering if she had imagined that harsh, barely audible, “I lied to both of us.”
Kalesia was shaking violently as she watched him leave. She felt emotionally and physically drained. Her mind shut down, protecting her from a reality too awful to contemplate. Not even the initial rush of mingled pain and anger was there. Kalesia was thankful for the numbness that insulated her from the soul-searing anguish sure to come.
Like a wounded animal seeking a place to hide, she went to her old room. A distant part of her was grateful not to see the men, grateful she didn’t have to face them and hide the rift between her and Gabriel. She doubted she could, in any case. All three were trained observers, far too experienced not to know something was wrong.
The rest of the afternoon crawled past as she sat, motionless, in the rocking chair. Not even the familiar weight of Tia in her lap melted the icy cocoon wrapping her. She stared out the window, seeing nothing. Where was the pain? The hurt? Her eyes burned as she watched Gabriel cross the yard to the herb garden he was creating. Head down, he put hoe to ground with a single-minded intentness that was almost scary in its viciousness.
Why couldn’t she cry?
Hours later, she saw Wolf approach Gabriel. Though the window was cracked open, they were too far away for her to hear their conversation. Suddenly, Gabriel shook his head adamantly. Both men turned to look at her window. Gabriel shook his head again, with finality. Wolf’s hand cut the air once before he stalked off.
Kalesia couldn’t even summon the energy to be curious at the conversation between the two men.
Less than fifteen minutes later, a low knock came at her door. She ignored it.
“Kalesia?” The voice was dark and low but not Gabriel’s. “Kalesia, it’s Wolf. Is everything okay?” Concerned laced his voice. She wanted to ignore the query. Ignore everything.
“Kalesia?” he persisted, with a hint of impatience.
She wished he’d just go away. If she had the energy, she’d tell him so. Kalesia heaved a little sigh and gave in to the inevitable.
“I’m fine, honest. Just a headache.” Lies. The damn things crept into every facet of her life lately. A quiver of agony stirred to life. Kalesia quashed it ruthlessly, preferring the numbness.
There was the slightest pause. “Do you want me to bring you something to eat?”
Her stomach lurched at the notion of putting food into her mouth. “No, I’m not hungry. I’m sorry I forgot to fix the meal,” she added as she remembered she had taken over the task of evening meals.
There was another, longer, pause. “Don’t worry about it. It won’t be the first time we’ve fended for ourselves. Are you sure you’re feeling all right?”
Feeling all right? Kalesia stuffed her fist in her mouth bit down on her knuckles. Of course, she wasn’t feeling all right. The beautiful little dream she’d been weaving was rent in
two. The man she’d let in her bed turned out to be a killer. All right? She didn’t think she’d ever be all right again. She wanted to scream at Wolf that the man responsible was his friend, Gabriel.
Kalesia did nothing of the kind. Instead, she politely reassured the man standing on the other side of the door. “I’m sure. Nothing wrong that a night of sleep won’t cure.” Must always be polite. Wasn’t that what her mother had drilled into her head? That it was the mark of good Southern breeding to remain polite, even in the most trying of circumstances. She waited for Wolf to push some more. He wasn’t the type to give up.
Silence.
Her head, suddenly too heavy for her neck, dropped forward into her palm. She cradled her aching forehead. That, at least, wasn’t a total lie.
More silence.
With a sense of relief, she realized he’d moved away, as silent as his namesake. Just like Gabriel. Neither man made a sound unless they intended to.
The numbness protecting her cracked. A tear slid down her cheek. Then another. And another.
She buried her face in her hands and cried.
* * * * *
Kalesia leaned closer to the mirror and tried to convince herself it was just the stark lighting making her look like death warmed over. Her skin, usually a delicate ivory, was so pale as to be almost bloodless. Fine lines bracketed her eyes and the corners of her mouth. She grimaced. Makeup was not going to hide the damage. Perhaps if she claimed she still had a headache?
Oh, who was she trying to fool? All three were trained observers, she reminded herself. They were bound to notice something was wrong. All she could do is hope that good manners would prevent them from questioning her. Kalesia sent up a quick prayer. She just couldn’t talk about what she’d discovered.
Not yet.
Unable to stall any longer, she went downstairs. Her knees wobbled when she saw Gabriel wasn’t in the kitchen with his friends. Kalesia sat before her legs gave out. “Morning.” She turned a bright smile on the men. A glass of juice appeared in front of her. Her hand shook when she took a sip.
“Mornin’, beautiful. Better?” Sam leaned back against the counter, his hazel eyes gleaming with blatant appreciation.
“Much better, thank you.” Good heavens, she must be a better actress than she thought. She started to relax, certain now she could pull this off. When Wolf offered her a basket of muffins fresh from the oven, she took one and automatically glanced up to offer her thanks. A gray, predatory gaze snagged hers.
Not for one minute had her little act fooled him, she realized. Wolf silently raised one black brow. Kalesia gave a small shake of her head. He nodded. The other men didn’t seem to notice the byplay. Or, if they did, they didn’t mention it. For which she was thankful. She still hadn’t figured out what she was going to tell them.
Kalesia concentrated on buttering the muffin. “Find anything useful?”
Sam closed the refrigerator door, a large bowl of mixed fruit in his hands. “A couple of things,” he said, placing it in the center of the table. He popped a huge strawberry in his mouth as he opened his napkin. His eyes were thoughtful as he chewed. “We’ll figure it out. And until we do, we won’t let anything happen to you.”
Tears filled her eyes. She sniffed into her napkin, hating being so emotional but unable to stop it.
Sam’s eyes crinkled in mischief. One arm snaked out and pulled her, chair and all, close to his side. “Hell, if you’ll let me have another orange-nut muffin, I’ll trail along at your heels like a Chihuahua with a Doberman complex.” He gave a hopeful grin. “I’ll even sleep at the foot of your bed.”
Kalesia sputtered on a laugh. The hated tears dried up. Grateful, she hugged Sam and gave him a peck on the cheek. “If you’re not housebroken,” she chided, “I wield a mean newspaper!”
No one noticed him standing there.
Not that it surprised Gabriel. Hell, he’d be more surprised if they had.
He watched the easy horseplay between the pair. His hand clenched into a fist at his side. Slowly, finger by finger, he opened it.
She never laughed like that with him.
On the outside looking in. It was a familiar sensation. One he’d accepted and lived with all of his life.
Until Kalesia.
On the outside looking in. Blood pounded in his veins.
“What’s the matter, Kalesia? Can’t stay out of a man’s bed now that you’ve found out what you’ve been missing? Which one will you place under your spell this time? Or are you trying for all three?” Gabriel placed each word with lethal precision.
Her head jerked in his direction, her face dead white at the insult. Beside her, Sam started to surge to his feet. Without breaking her glance from his, Kalesia stood, her hand on Sam’s shoulder. “Don’t. This is between Gabriel and me.”
Mere feet separated them. It might have well been an ocean. When she spoke, each word was spaced deliberately apart. “Trust me, Gabriel, your performance in bed does not make me inclined to seek solace elsewhere.”
Gabriel stared pointedly at the slender hand holding Sam back. “It was good enough to keep you coming back for more.”
“Gratitude makes a woman do strange things,” Kalesia countered with icy steadiness.
“Don’t try to tell me it wasn’t more than gratitude, damn you!”
“Wasn’t it?” she asked, before stepping around him and leaving the room.
Gabriel, lost in a strange mixture of fury and pain, stared after her. He started when Wolf spoke.
“Do you get pleasure from pulling the wings off butterflies?”
Gabriel focused on Wolf. The need for battle coiled his muscles. “You don’t know what the hell you’re talking about.”
“Don’t I?” Wolf murmured, his question a clear taunt. “I’ve seen you treat the enemy with more kindness than you just treated Kalesia.”
“Shut up. Just shut the fuck up.” A fierce joy welled at the thought of combat.
“Wouldn’t it be simpler just to let the murderer find Kalesia than to kill her a little piece at a time?”
“No one,” he grated, “no one is going to hurt her.” Just the thought blinded him with rage.
Wolf tipped the chair, balancing on the two back legs. “No,” he agreed softly. “That pleasure is reserved for you.”
Pain exploded in Gabriel’s right hand as it connected with Wolf’s chin. The chair hit the floor. Wolf lifted up on one elbow. He touched his fingers to the trickle of blood running down his chin, grim satisfaction in his eyes.
Shocked, Gabriel stared at his friend. He couldn’t believe he’d allowed himself to be provoked into losing control. And the provocation had been deliberate. Wolf hadn’t even attempted a counter. For the first time in twenty years, he’d violated one of his most fundamental tenets. He’d let another person dictate the rules of engagement.
A cold sensation seeped into his bones. He turned on heel. “Go to hell. All of you, go to hell.”
Badger waited until the screen door slammed. “Well, what the fuck was that supposed to prove? Besides the fact Gabe was ready to kill you?”
Wolf rubbed his jaw. “It proved that whatever is wrong, it’s tearing Gabe up just as much as it is Kalesia.”
“Interesting,” Sam commented.
“Yeah, ain’t it.”
* * * * *
“Well? What have you heard?”
“Nothing. Not one word.” One eyelid twitched at the sound of a door shutting. “I don’t like this.”
“Nothing?” The question was sharp, biting. “I would have thought…” The arrogant voice trailed off.
“No one’s talking.”
“Find out if the woman is still with Steele.”
“Why wouldn’t she be?” There was an undercurrent to that faceless voice that made him suspicious.
“Do it,” the man ordered.
“It’ll take me a couple of days. I have to be careful not to make anyone suspicious.”
“Three days.”
The line went dead.
* * * * *
Kalesia stared at the jumbled mess of letters on the computer screen. She’d been compiling her own list, hoping to find something, anything, that she’d missed. It was useless. She couldn’t concentrate on anything but the situation between her and Gabriel.
It had been four days since she’d confronted Gabriel with the packet. As impossible as it seemed, matters between them had deteriorated. Mealtimes were now undeclared war zones. They couldn’t even be in the same room without sniping at each other. Kalesia propped her elbows on the desk and massaged her temples. She could not go on like this. Her nerves couldn’t stand the strain.
Sweet mercy, what would she have done without the support of the other men? They had a knack for diffusing any given situation before actual blood was shed.
Her stomach lurched. Bad analogy. Gabriel specialized in spilling blood.
Then why did he avoid going to bed until three or four in the morning?
The slender tendril of thought scattered when the bedroom door opened after one short, hard rap. Wolf entered and closed the door behind him.
“We need to talk.”
Kalesia shut her eyes for a moment, trying to rally her defenses. Reluctantly, she lifted her head and faced him. She hadn’t wanted this confrontation and had done everything within her power to avoid it. Evidently, he’d finally had enough of her evasions.
“Talk to Gabriel.”
“I tried. He told me to mind my own business.”
Hoping he’d take the hint, she turned back toward the computer. “Listen to him.” She so did not want this conversation. Her fingers flew over the keyboard. Too bad she hadn’t the slightest clue what she was typing. She sucked in a shocked breath when Wolf grabbed her shoulder and spun her around. He caged her with a hand on each armrest. He leaned in until they were practically nose to nose.
“One of you is going to tell me what the hell is going on. And you’re neither quick nor strong enough to stop me.”
Kalesia felt her eyes widened at the implicit threat. “Why?” she whispered, her throat aching with unshed tears. “Why should you care?”
Tapestry of the Past Page 16
