“What about your informant in the sheriff’s office?” Gabriel reminded Morne.
“Ah, yes. Pompano. I am most disappointed with his performance. No matter,” Morne shrugged again. “He was scheduled to die regardless. I think an accident. Yes, a most tragic accident will do. I haven’t had much experience with accidental death. If his goes well, I may utilize it one more time.” He shrugged again. “Time will tell which method has the least complications. Now, Mr. Steele, despite my appreciation of your most excellent skills, you have left me no choice.” Coolly, Morne aimed.
Kalesia panicked. Dear God, Gabriel was defenseless against a gun. She erupted from behind her barrier, all thought of personal safety abandoned. She snatched up a pitchfork and rushed Morne, screaming.
“No, you bastard! I won’t let you hurt him any more!”
“Kalesia, don’t! Dammit, woman!” Gabriel yelled as Morne, caught off-guard, turned and fired.
With the ease of years of training and practical use, Gabriel’s hand slipped to the small of his back. He threw the hidden knife and, in one smooth, continuous motion and launched himself at Morne before the man hit the ground.
Kalesia looked down, astonished, at the stinging pain in her side. She couldn’t have been shot. There should be blood, lots of it. And agony. Not the sharp burn of a wasp sting.
An odd noise raised her head.
Gabriel’s hands were around Morne’s throat. The odd noise was a choked scream.
Good Lord. Gabriel was going to kill the bastard while law enforcement caught everything on tape!
Forgetting all about her injury, she hurried over. “Don’t,” she said in a low tone. “Don’t let him win.” Eyes fixed on Morne’s red, puffy face, his attention never wavered. Did he even hear her? She’d never seen him look like this. Not even when Pompano had broken into their room.
“I know you have every right. But not like this, Gabriel. Not in cold blood,” she whispered, anguish knifing through her. Dear God, what if she couldn’t stop him? He didn’t need another face haunting him.
“Please.” She put her hand on his forearm. The muscles bulged with the pressure he was exerting. Relief rushed through her when he spared her a glance.
“He tried to kill you,” Gabriel grated. She barely recognized the harsh voice. It was as deep and rasping as granite grinding against granite. Morne’s face acquired an odd blue tinge.
“But he didn’t.” Fear for Gabriel made her voice tremble. “Please. Let Harley handle him.”
“Shit. You aren’t going to let me, are you?” He sounded disappointed.
Her knees went wobbly. Lord, for a minute she’d thought he was going to ignore her. He glared down at the nearly unconscious Morne. From the expression on his face, it was clear he regretted capitulating.
Not being stupid, she circled his broad wrist and tugged, urging Gabriel to his feet. No one had to tell her that, given half a chance, he’d change his mind.
He came up in one fluid motion, ignoring the commotion of men bursting through the barn doors. He stood close to her. So close that not even a breath could come between them. The silver eyes burned with emotion. He reached out and traced the line of one brow with a shaking hand. A light, feathery touch that she felt to her soul.
The shaking spread from his hand, to his arm and then to his whole body. He yanked her to him and molded her body to his as if he wanted to absorb her. His arms were like steel as he held her, feet dangling off the straw-strewn floor. “I almost didn’t stop,” he rasped, voice dry as desert sand. “I wouldn’t have for anyone else.”
Her throat burned with tears. “I know.” And she did. Morne owed his life to her. Kalesia didn’t know how she felt about that. She wrapped her arms around Gabriel’s neck, letting the warmth of his body, the frantic beat of his heart, reassure her that they’d both survived.
“I thought I had lost you.” Another hard shudder racked Gabriel. “I love you.”
A misty smile curved her lips and Kalesia buried her face into the side of his neck. She inhaled the unique, earthy scent of the man she loved, letting the familiar scent steady her nerves. “I know.”
Abruptly, Gabriel set her on her feet. He shoved her away to arm’s length, his fingers miniature iron bars as they curved over her shoulders. “What the hell do you mean you know? I didn’t know it until minutes ago.” He sounded more than a little put out that she hadn’t met his declaration with more appreciation.
Kalesia met his scowl with confidence. “You stopped short of killing Morne because I asked. You wouldn’t have unless you loved me.” To forestall any further argument, she stood on tiptoe and placed her lips on his.
His mouth clung, his tongue sliding between her lips. All too soon, Gabriel lifted his head. “Just what was that stunt all about?” he demanded, eyes blazing with a mixture of rage and anguish.
“What was all what about?” It had been too good to be true. She should have known he wouldn’t let her get off scot-free. Kalesia braced herself for a few hot and heavy minutes. Gabriel did have the right to be somewhat upset, she decided, feeling generous. Must have been nearly as frightening for him when Morne fired at her, as it had been for her when Morne had aimed his gun at Gabriel.
“Don’t play the innocent with me, Kalesia,” he warned, warming, she thought, all too easily to his theme. “You could have been killed. I had Morne under control. You took a stupid risk charging him. You could have gotten us both killed. Don’t you care about your life?” he ranted. “A few moments more and Harley and Wolf would have been here. In any case, I had matters under control.”
“That’s why he was getting ready to shoot you?” she asked, sarcasm leaking through her decision to be generous. He wasn’t the only one who’d had a scare, Kalesia thought, indignant. The Lord as her witness, if she lived to be a thousand, she would never erase the sight of Morne’s finger tightening on the trigger.
“I had a knife.”
“Well, bully for you. A knife against a gun. What good is that?” Kalesia threw her hands up in outraged disbelief. Impossible man!
“I had an offensive strategy in mind. Which, I might add, you totally destroyed. It was a stupid stunt, dammit. I really ought to make sure you can’t sit for a week this time. You deserve a beating for what you put me through tonight and by heaven, I’m going to enjoy every minute of it,” Gabriel informed her, his voice growing louder and more irate as spoke.
That fast, Kalesia grew tired of hearing how foolish she’d been to try to rescue him. The man was like a one-song record. Besides, that stinging in her side was turning into pain. Yes, it most definitely classified as a pain now. She bit her lip to hold back a tiny moan. Damned if she’d tell him when all he could do was yell at her.
Kalesia was aware she was being unreasonable but didn’t care. She had a right, dammit.
She ground her back teeth together. How the hell did men manage to look so damn stoic when shot? It must be a defect in the male mentality, she decided as the agony in her side swelled.
Ignoring the furious pacing in front of her, Kalesia lifted her shirt to inspect the damage.
It took Gabriel a couple of paces before he sensed he’d lost his audience. Damn woman. This time she’d gone too fucking far. He meant it. This time he’d turn her over his knee and blister her ass. And, damned if he wouldn’t enjoy every second of it, he vowed stopping back in front of her. Ready to continue berating her, something in her pose made him pause. His rage evaporated and his heart slammed into his ribs.
That crimson splash on her shirt was blood!
Gabriel swayed with the impact.
He swooped in and swept her off her feet. The startled looks on the deputies and agents barely registered as he damn near ran past them. He had to get her to the hospital. For the first time in years, Gabriel prayed.
“What’s wrong, Gabe?” Wolf broke away from the knot of men, lengthening his stride to catch up with Gabriel’s hurried pace.
“Kalesia’s been shot,
” he said, his jaw locked in an effort to suppress his agony and rage. “I’m taking her to the hospital.”
“I’m not going to the hospital.” Both men ignored her.
“Shot!” Wolf opened the barn door wider, barely getting out of the way before Gabriel barreled through the opening. For all his hurry, though, Gabriel was extremely careful not to jar Kalesia.
“I wish someone would listen to me,” Kalesia muttered, sounding peevish. “I don’t want to go to the hospital.”
Gabriel didn’t even spare her a glance. “You’re going.”
“I’m not hurt that badly. It’s barely a scratch,” she protested, a hint of panic in her voice. “I hate hospitals. A few aspirin and I’ll be as good as new in the morning,” she told him, a mulish expression on her lovely face.
“Kalesia,” Wolf said, coming into the conversation. “You’re bleeding. You need to see a doctor.”
“Some friend you are,” she retorted, her voice gaining spirit for a moment. “Friends are supposed to listen, to help, not force their friends into hospitals against their will. You’re on Gabriel’s side, not mine.” Her bottom lip trembled.
“Don’t listen to her,” Gabriel advised. “She’ll drive a man daft.” He slanted a glance down at the suspiciously quiet woman. “You’re going to the hospital if I have to bind your hands and feet and bodily toss your ass into the emergency room,” he threatened to hide his surge of relief. His witch was up to fighting with him. She was going to be all right.
“Don’t you just love it when he goes all autocratic and stern?” Kalesia asked Wolf. “Kinda reminds me of Hannibal when I first got him. Of course,” she continued, a hint of acerbic tartness in the husky tones, “I cured Hannibal of that bad habit by neutering him.”
Both men paled slightly at that image. Satisfied she’d made her point, Kalesia lapsed into silence.
* * * * *
“I told you, Gabriel. I hate hospitals,” Kalesia stated several hours later. To emphasize her complaint, she poked one finger against his broad chest. Gabriel captured her hand, refusing to let go even when she tugged.
“Quit whining. The doctor wants to keep you at least overnight. You’re staying.”
And that was that, she thought, disgruntled. The master had spoken. She peeked at him from beneath lowered lashes. If arguing didn’t work, maybe a little sugar instead of spice, would. She let what she hoped was a beguiling smile curve her lips. “But I feel so much better. I’d rather be at home, with you. Besides, I want to find out what happened with Senator Morne.”
A wide grin softened the severe lines of his mouth.
Kalesia cursed her spurt of truthfulness. The man wasn’t above blackmailing her into doing as he wished.
“Fluttering your lashes at me won’t work,” Gabriel told her dryly. “Even though it’s just a deep crease, the doctor wants to be certain you don’t go into shock.”
“But, Gabriel…” she began.
“No.”
“Oh, all right,” Kalesia conceded with a decided lack of grace. “But all they’ll want to do is stick needles in me and take my last drop of blood. Vampires every one of them.” She picked up the hand lying on her stomach, kissing the scarred knuckles, pleased when she heard Gabriel’s indrawn breath.
“At least tell me what you found out.”
Gabriel sat on the side of the bed, his thumb caressing her lower lip with open sensual pleasure. “They said no excitement,” he reminded her perversely.
“Trust me. If you don’t hurry up and tell me what you found out, things are liable to get downright hot around here,” Kalesia threatened, glowering at him.
“Promise you’ll give no more arguments about staying here until the doctor releases you?”
“Oh, all right. I promise, not another word.” Blast. She knew she shouldn’t have made that slip.
He relented. “Harley found out the identity of the man killed two years ago. His name was Daniel Pressman.”
“Why was Morne so worried? He’d gotten away with murder for over two years.”
“At the time of his death, Pressman was under investigation for smuggling drugs into the county. He used an isolated pasture as a landing strip. We suspect Morne used him to move the drugs from South America. With Pressman’s death, a lot of pressure was taken off the case. Harley just didn’t have the manpower and the DEA had other cases needing immediate attention.”
“So,” Kalesia said slowly, working it out in her head, “Morne feared exposure if the Pressman case was reopened?”
“That’s about the size of it.”
“How did Morne know so much about your career?”
“You heard him say he was in Intelligence?” Kalesia nodded. “Once our paths crossed, he made it his business to keep tabs on me. The power he garnered enabled him to do so. He was head of the Senate Arms Committee and sat on the committees that handled Central and South American affairs.”
Kalesia considered that. “So, not only was he able to make sure you posed no threat to him but the Senator used the contacts he formed to run an arms and drug empire?”
“That’s about it.”
“What about Morne now?”
“He’s being held on a number of state and federal charges, not the least of which is murder and attempted murder. His arrest has already made the news services. From what I hear, several countries are screaming to get their hands on him. The courts will have to sort out who gets him first. As long as they leave him to rot in a cell, I don’t care.” Gabriel dismissed Morne with a shrug.
“What about what he did to you, Gabriel?” Kalesia asked, worried. Could he really let it go just like that?
His eyes hardened. “If he’s lucky, he’ll rot in prison. If he gets some slippery-assed lawyer to get him off, I’ll personally book him a passage to Hell.”
“Are you sorry I stopped you from killing him? I know how badly you wanted vengeance.” It worried Kalesia that one day Gabriel might hold her actions against her, begin to hate her for not allowing him the revenge he had dreamed of, no, lived for, for so many years.
Gabriel brought her palm to his mouth, pressing a soft kiss directly in the center. His tongue tickled the sensitive palm.
She felt a reflex quiver of desire down low in her stomach.
He met her gaze squarely. “I have enough blood on my hands in your eyes. I don’t need his. Not anymore.” His traced an intricate pattern before teasing the soft pad of flesh at the base of her fingers, setting Kalesia’s nerve endings on fire.
“Even if you had killed him, I would still love you. I did it for you, Gabriel. You didn’t need another face in the dark.” Her fingers curled at the sensations he was so expertly eliciting. He knew her so well.
Kalesia could feel her lashes begin to drift downward as the painkiller a nurse had given her earlier started to take effect. She struggled to keep them open.
“Go to sleep, sugar.” He bent and brushed her lips with his.
She blinked hard, fighting the medication. “You won’t leave me?”
“I won’t leave. When you wake up, I’ll be here,” he vowed softly, brushing aside the hospital’s regulations.
“You never did tell me where you stood on pacifism,” Kalesia mumbled.
“I’m more the fire and brimstone, retribution and justice sort of fellow, myself,” Gabriel growled, sounding stern.
“Mmm. Tell me more.” Her eyes closed. She snapped them open, blinking several times.
“On our wedding night,” Gabriel said, a wealth of promise in the simple statement.
“Gabriel? I love you.”
His throat worked. “I love you too, witch.”
Epilogue
Lying on the bed, arms crossed behind his head, Gabriel waited for his wife to come out of the bathroom.
“Wife.”
Gabriel savored the sound on his tongue. “Wife.” He’d never get tired of saying it. It’d take more than forty or fifty years to get over the wonder of actually po
ssessing a witch. Not many men were so fortunate.
A small chuckle escaped as Gabriel remembered the wedding. He’d be willing to bet a full year’s profit from his nursery that it was the first wedding where the bride wore bright, sunshine yellow.
Her mother had seemed resigned.
Della Brannigan was, much to his surprise, very like her daughter. He had expected someone cold and distant. Had been prepared to dislike her on sight. Instead, he was charmed and saddened by both her and Kalesia’s father. The reception had been the first time he had been alone with the woman. She appeared at his side, her eyes on her daughter as Kalesia, to her mother’s bewilderment, was surrounded by a sea of intrigued men.
The small, dainty woman sighed. “At least she had the sense not to have those cats in the wedding party.”
Gabriel looked down at the woman. It was obvious that Mrs. Brannigan loved her daughter. She just hadn’t the slightest idea of what to do with her. “I explained that being surrounded by so many strangers would upset Cannibal.”
She chuckled. “Smart man.” She slanted him a glance from the corner of her eye. “Cannibal? I thought his name was Hannibal.”
“It is.” He shrugged his shoulders. “I decided Cannibal suited him better. God knows, that damn cat draws my blood every chance he gets.” For a while there, he had actually entertained the idea that they might possibly get along. He was willing to bend that far to please Kalesia. Besides, Hannibal had fought on his side against Pompano. Gabriel guessed he had forgotten to inform that seven-toed beast of his change of heart.
“What does Kalesia think of the new name?” Della asked her new son-in-law, a curious tilt to her elegantly coiffed head.
“I haven’t told her yet,” Gabriel admitted with a quirk to his mouth. She started laughing.
Della became serious, pinning Gabriel with a very direct gaze that was more than a little reminiscent of Kalesia. “Take care of my daughter, Mr. Steele. She deserves some happiness.” She hesitated. “I know I haven’t been the best of mothers. I never could understand that psychic stuff. But she loves you. I’ve never seen her so supremely confident. She has absolute trust in you, Gabriel Steele. Make her happy or you’ll have to deal with me.”
Tapestry of the Past Page 25
