Silver Dagger

by T. L. Sinclare

  This is ridiculous! She tossed her head back and tried again.

  "I'm sorry. I lost my train of thought for a moment."

  Stephen nodded. "Understandable."

  "Yes. Well, as I was saying, I'm here to see Dylan."

  Stephen stepped away and folded his arms across his chest. With slow deliberation, he looked down the length of her body, lingering briefly on her full breasts. She refused to let her eyes drop to see how tightly her wet blouse was clinging to her skin and resisted the impulse to cover herself.

  His eyes made the return trip up her body to her face.

  "You don't seem like Dylan's type."

  "Maybe he's branching out."

  "Unlikely. But it doesn't matter. He's not here right now."

  "I'd like to wait." Very few people had the guts to actually throw someone out of their house.

  "It could be hours before he returns."

  "Nick said it would only be a few minutes." Madeleine smiled with false sweetness. The smile turned real when she saw Stephen's jaw tighten. "I don't mind waiting."

  "Why do you want to see Dylan?"

  "Why do you think that's any of your business?"

  His eyebrows spiked at the sharp response. Madeleine pressed her lips together. What are you doing? she asked silently. She had never been the most tactful person, but she rarely pushed herself to the point of being rude. Danielle. She was doing this for Danielle.

  And because there was something about this man. He inspired defiance.

  He abhors weakness. The insight came to her in a flash. He'd use any weakness and destroy a person with it.

  "Everything in this house is my business." The soft whisper sent another wave of shivers down her spine.

  He took a step toward her. Instinct urged her to move back, away from his disturbing presence, but she wouldn't allow it. Give no ground. He stopped mere inches from her. Close enough to touch. The strange fantasy of Stephen and the satin bed flickered at the edge of her mind, and she felt her blush return. She looked up at him, refusing to be intimidated.

  The light in his eyes caught her, and the world around her faded. A strange lassitude crept over her. She sighed. Why was she fighting him?

  "Why are you here to see Dylan?" he asked again.

  The smooth edge of his voice seemed to dull her senses.

  "I'm looking for my cousin, Danielle," she muttered. The words slipped out without her permission.

  This was important. She was supposed to watch him to see if he reacted to Danielle's name. She tried to focus, but the world blurred for one brief second and the moment was gone.

  "Why would you think she was here?" he asked, his voice strangely distant.

  "She's a friend of Dylan's."

  She breathed in his warm scent and felt a response in the center of her body.

  That's good, Maddie.

  She heard the voice in her head. His voice. Belated internal alarms went off. She pulled her eyes away and stared at the muted red carpet on the floor.

  "Maddie, look at me."

  Power filled his words and she clenched her fists as she resisted the strange urge to follow his command. She grabbed onto the name and used it as her anchor. No one called her Maddie.

  "Look at me, Maddie." This time the pull was too strong. She raised her eyes to his. And fell inside. Light fragments the color of deep sapphires glittered around her, blocking out the world and guiding her to Stephen's gaze. His eyes, his warmth, his fire were the only safe place to be. He sought entrance into her soul and she opened to him.

  Very good, Maddie.

  The voice vibrated through her skull. Warnings crept from the back corner of her mind. This wasn't normal. Something was wrong. A warm glow settled around her, silencing the concerns. The seductive fantasy from a moment ago returned, flowing over her in hard sensations. Stephen, his mouth on hers, his lips against her throat. She sighed at the first warm touch. She licked her lips, the dream so real she could almost taste him.

  "Madeleine." His voice was all there was, quiet and powerful. "It's time for you to go home."

  A longing welled up inside her. Yes, she wanted to go home.

  "Your cousin isn't here."

  Madeleine shook her head. No, Danielle isn't here.

  "You should—"

  "Stephen, I—"

  Madeleine jerked at the intrusion of another voice, the sound shattering the warmth and security that surrounded her.

  She pressed her fingertips to her forehead and took in short, deep breaths, trying to slow her pounding heart. She was losing it. She gave herself a moment to recover before turning to greet the new arrival.

  A tall man with blondish-brown hair stood in front of the kitchen door. He was well built, muscular, and had an open, friendly face that Madeleine immediately liked.

  "I'm sorry." He apologized directly to Stephen, ignoring her presence completely. "Did I interrupt?"

  Stephen shook his head. "Nothing that can't be continued later. Ms. Bryant, this is Dylan. Dylan, this is Madeleine Bryant."

  Dylan smiled and nodded. "Of course. You're Danielle's cousin. I recognize you from her description."

  He walked forward and offered her his hand. Tension slipped from Madeleine's shoulders. She'd found Dylan. He was handsome, charming. She took his hand. He had a firm grip and he smiled into her eyes as they shook hands—the perfect handshake.

  With none of the strange heat she'd felt at Stephen's touch.

  "How can we help you, Madeleine?"

  Eager to push aside the darkly attractive man next to her, she kept her attention on Dylan. "Have you seen Danielle recently?"

  Concern glowed in his eyes. "I haven't." He shrugged. "Not for days. She's not been home?"

  "No," Madeleine answered.

  "I've been busy lately. Stephen—" Dylan looked up. Whatever he saw in Stephen's eyes stopped him. "Oh, that's right. You didn't know Danielle, did you?"

  "No."

  "I'm sorry we can't help you, Madeleine."

  Madeleine nodded. It was time to go. This had been a wild goose chase to start with. "Well, thank you. I'm sorry to interrupt your evening. If you do hear from Danielle, could you have her call home?"

  "Can I give you a ride?" Dylan offered with a sympathetic smile. "Danielle said you didn't have a car."

  Madeleine smiled. Her cousin seemed to have found one of the good guys.

  "That would be nice."

  "No." Madeleine and Dylan froze at Stephen's refusal. "Dylan, you have things you need to do." He paused. "Downstairs. I'll take Ms. Bryant home."

  "Oh, sure." Dylan shrugged and offered his hand back to Madeleine. "I'll let Stephen have the pleasure of seeing you safely home. As Stephen said, I have some things that must get done tonight. If you hear from Danielle, please let me know. I'll worry until I know she's safe." He sounded sincere—and concerned. "It was nice to meet you, Madeleine."

  She nodded. "It was nice meeting you."

  Dylan stopped when he got to the kitchen door and looked meaningfully at Stephen.

  "What about…"

  She could have sworn Dylan's eyes flicked toward her.

  "I'll take care of it."

  Madeleine shivered at the quiet promise in Stephen's voice. The kitchen door swung closed with a quiet thump, and she was alone with Stephen. Again.

  "Shall we go?"

  "I'll call a cab." The protest felt good. Something strange had happened to her independence a few moments ago, but it was coming back to her.

  "I'll drive you," he countered as he crossed the room and opened a closet.

  "No, I'd rather call a cab." She folded her arms across her chest. "I don't know you. Why would I get into your car?"

  Stephen took a black raincoat out of the closet and pulled it on before answering. "Your cousin has gone missing. You've entered the house of a complete stranger, and you were willing to accept a ride from Dylan, whom you just met tonight. And now you're concerned about your personal safety?" He walked
back to her and held up a second raincoat. "A bit late, isn't it?"

  Madeleine glared at him. Stephen didn't seem to notice. He draped the coat over her shoulders and guided her out the front door.

  Rain pounded them as they walked a short distance down the street. A black Jaguar sports car sat under a single streetlight. As they approached, the engine purred to life.

  Madeleine jumped back and landed against Stephen's chest with a solid thud. His arms wrapped around her for a moment, the heat of his body warming her through the raincoat. A dangling key chain appeared in front of her face.

  "Automatic start." His voice vibrated with humor.

  "I know." She stepped away and glared into his amused eyes.

  Stephen walked to the passenger side, opened the door, and helped Madeleine inside in one fluid motion. The car was already warming as the door snapped shut beside her. Stephen slid inside and turned the heat on high. Madeleine couldn't contain her sigh as the warmth burst from the vents.

  She gave him directions to her apartment and then stared into the night. The close confines of the Jag didn't give her much to look at in the car besides Stephen, and she had enough fuel for her fantasies.

  The trip was blessedly brief. If not for the rain, she could have walked the distance in about forty minutes.

  "That's my building. Just pull over and I'll hop out."

  He didn't even glance at her before ignoring her instructions and parking his car in the alley. Right in front of the No Parking sign. He climbed out of the car and walked around to her side as she undipped the seat belt. She was struck again by the heat of his touch as he helped her out. She released his hand as soon as she was standing and forced a polite smile.

  "Thank you for the ride home," she said politely, hoping he would leave her there. She wasn't surprised when he followed her to the dimly lit entrance of her building.

  "Your car will get towed," she warned.

  "No, it won't."

  "It'll get stripped."

  "No. It won't."

  She stopped and turned to him. "I don't need you to walk me to my door."

  He wiped the rain out of his eyes. "Get upstairs, Maddie," he sighed. Frustration lined his face.

  She couldn't stop her triumphant grin as she walked away. It wasn't much, but for one brief moment she'd cracked his seemingly unbreakable control.

  The fluorescent lights of the lobby stabbed at her eyes as she pulled open the security door that no longer locked. Stephen flinched against the glare and raised his arm to shield his eyes.

  "Hey, Miz Bryant." Madeleine turned at the sound of her name. Bob, the building's maintenance man, sat in his customary position—cocked back in a wheeled office chair with his feet resting on his cluttered desk. He smiled as his eyes skimmed up the length of her body. They lingered on her legs and continued the journey upward, never making it to her face. They stopped at her chest, as if he could see through the raincoat's heavy material to her damp blouse underneath.

  "Hi, Bob." Madeleine moved past, not wanting to get caught in a conversation with him tonight. His drawling voice stopped her escape.

  "You know, there ain't no overnight parking available around here," he called out.

  She stopped at the stairwell door and looked over her shoulder. "Pardon me?"

  "If you're planning on having your friend here, uh, sleep over, well, there just isn't any place for him to park. Cars get towed if they're left overnight. For a slight fee, I can make sure that your car is still there when you leave tomorrow. 'Course, if you're just planning on a quickie, I won't charge you as much as if you was staying all night."

  Before she could respond, Stephen turned and faced the maintenance man. Bob's lewd smile fell.

  "Uh—uh. Never mind. You just take as long as you like. I'll make sure your car's there when you get back."

  Madeleine tilted her head to look up at Stephen. He didn't look any different. What was Bob seeing that she wasn't?

  "Let's go, Madeleine." Stephen put a hand on her back and urged her toward the stairs. The brief episode replayed in her mind as she climbed the three flights to her apartment. It made no more sense the second time around.

  Exhaustion washed over her as she reached the top of the stairs. She glanced over her shoulder. He isn't even breathing hard, she silently groused as she stepped into the hall. Cracks in the walls formed a long, ragged arrow that ended at her apartment. She sighed when she reached her door.

  She turned to Stephen. "Thank you, again, for the ride home."

  "Invite me in."

  His soft-spoken command wrapped invisible fingers around her heart. She didn't want him seeing her apartment. The walls needed paint and the cockroaches threatened daily to take over. And it was all she could afford right now. She opened her mouth to refuse. He cocked one eyebrow, taunting her.

  She knew he was mocking her to prick her pride. She knew it and it still didn't matter. She wouldn't let him use this as a weakness.

  The apartment was small and horrible, but it was clean, and it was her home for now. She wasn't about to let anyone condemn her for living within her means.

  She straightened her shoulders and pushed open the front door. "Won't you come in?"

  He wandered to the middle of her living room and stopped, his hands firmly fisted in his coat pockets.

  She closed the door and waited. He scanned the living room with dispassionate eyes. Madeleine knew what he saw. The same thing she had when she'd first moved in—a small room with cracked and peeling walls and worn, ugly orange carpet. The ragged couch she'd picked up at a secondhand store formed the imaginary line between the living room and kitchen. An old, worn recliner sat at one end of the couch, with her tiny television on a cardboard box against the wall. The two doors that led to her bedroom and bathroom were closed.

  Finally, he turned his gaze back to her.

  "It must have been quite a come down to end up in something like this." The skin around her eyes tightened as she glared at him. "Pride got the better of you in the divorce, hmmm?"

  "How did you know I was divorced? Did Danielle tell you?"

  His lips curved into a slow mocking smile that didn't reach his eyes. "Very clever, Ms. Bryant. Was that supposed to slip me up into confessing I know Danielle? I've never met your cousin." He looked around the room before turning back to her. "It's obvious you recently moved here. And that it's somewhat lower rent than you're used to." Madeleine raised her eyebrows in question. "You're wearing a very well-made silk blouse and a rather poorly made polyester skirt. You seem too practical to spend money on luxuries when you're living in a place like this. I assume the blouse is part of your former life."

  "Divorce is usually what sends a woman like you to a place like this. Pride won't let you accept alimony."

  Madeleine blanched at his insight. That was what had happened. When she'd left Charles, she'd refused to take anything with her.

  "I'd better be going."

  That's it! Madeleine stared at his back as he walked away. He came inside to analyze her life and now he was leaving? She shook her head. It made no sense.

  She followed him to the door. He paused, then turned back to her as if he'd made a decision. She looked up at him curiously. Her lungs grew tight, as if the oxygen in the room had been sucked out.

  The daydream that had assaulted her earlier swamped her mind—her body twisted with Stephen's, his hands caressing her bare skin, his tongue tasting her. Heat pooled between her legs and the tips of her breasts tightened at the fantasy.

  The reality stood before her. He bent his head and placed his lips against hers. The kiss was slow and warm, gentle, as if he were afraid of startling her. Reality mixed with the fantasy playing in her mind. She crushed the moan of pleasure that threatened.

  His lips caressed hers, exploring their shape, learning their texture. His tongue licked her upper lip, teasing her with a light touch that made her hunger for more.

  Open your mouth, Maddie. Let me taste you.
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  His voice resonated inside her head. He couldn't have spoken, but she'd heard him.

  It didn't matter. She opened her mouth and he slipped his tongue inside. This time Madeleine did groan.

  He tasted her. There was no other word for it. He lingered, moving within her mouth, licking slow lines around her tongue as if he were savoring each nuance, each unique flavor that was Madeleine. She leaned into the kiss. No one had ever enjoyed her like this. It went to her head and scattered her thoughts.

  On this plane, only their mouths touched. In her mind, their bodies connected and the pleasure exploded. Her fingers dug into his coat, holding onto the one stable thing in her spinning world.

  Abruptly, he lifted his head and stepped back. The strange fantasy evaporated but left a lingering desire.

  He trailed one finger down her neck.

  "Good night, Maddie."

  And he was gone. The door clicking shut was the only sign he'd moved.

  Madeleine stared at the empty space and brushed her fingertips over her lower lip.

  What the hell just happened?

  ***

  Stephen waited in silence outside her door until he heard the double click to indicate she'd locked herself in for the night. She thought she was safe behind her locks.

  It didn't matter. She'd invited him in.

  He would come back later and kill her.

  Chapter Two

  Heat washed over her body. Fiery heat that burst from inside, was captured, and made even hotter by the body pressed against hers. She moaned, the feeling too intense to be contained in silence. She dropped her head back against the satin-covered pillow.

  "Beautiful Maddie. Sweet Maddie." The words circled through her mind. He was there. Even with her eyes closed, she could see him, see their bodies twined together, writhing to get closer, to become one creature. She had to fight him, had to stop this. Something wasn't right.

  His mouth was a brand on her neck marking her forever. The pleasure and pain of his touch blended together until she longed for more of both.

  "Look at me, Maddie." She struggled, knowing she would be lost if she looked into his wicked blue eyes. "Look at me," he commanded again. And she couldn't resist. She raised her eyes to his and gasped.