by Jade Hart
Understand? What, because my body swooned under his gaze, or because my mind was intrigued by him? My heart bubbled with feeling, but I shot it with an arrow. Don't think for a second this man is here for you. That he has feelings for you.
I plastered a frown on my face. “You're not making any sense.” Words were fuzzy clouds in my head. I blamed the drugs I took and not his nearness. “I don't know who you are, or why you're hounding me. Just leave me alone.”
“What do you want to know?” His face softened.
I was momentarily blinded by his natural beauty. His cheekbones spoke of a Russian heritage, hair an unruly mess of blond streaks and freedom.
“I don't want to know anything,” I snapped.
Callan smiled, looking restricted in his black slacks and white sweater. He’d be better suited half-naked, frolicking with dolphins and turtles in the waves. Kill me now. Where did that thought come from?
“Let me introduce myself.” He held up a hand with long, strong fingers. “My name is Callan Trevor Bliss. Yes, I was ribbed a lot at the precinct for a gay last name. I have a little sister called Marie. She's twenty-two and engaged to a punk who I'd like to lock up.
“My mother and father have been happily married for thirty-eight years, and I'm jealous of the relationship they have. It used to make me gag when I was younger, but now it makes me envious. I don't smoke. I don't drink to excess. I drive a motorbike. I surf almost every day—if I don't, I get antsy. And I think you're the most beautiful, complex, wrapped-in-an-enigma woman I've ever met.”
My mind fired blank. How did I react to that? How did I want to react? Fear—that’s how I’d respond. He was too much—the exact opposite of me. Where I was dark, he was light. He’d incinerate me.
He smiled at my dumbfounded look. “There. Now you know me.” He reached for my hand. I stifled my gasp as warm skin wrapped around mine, shaking formally. “Nice to meet you. Now can I stay?”
My eyes went wide. “Stay? Why on earth would I let you stay?” I ignored my stomachs attempt to squeeze itself out of my mouth. I was terrified of him. He represented love, relationships. . . family. They were a liability. Family could be killed.
He shrugged, his lips playing with a grin. “Oh, I dunno. Because I know about your party trick. I understand why you put yourself in harm’s way.” He squeezed my hand, rubbing a thumb over my knuckles. “How about because I flew all the way here to see you. Doesn't that say something?”
“Yes. That you're insane. And have stalkerish tendencies.”
His eyes dropped; embarrassment flickered across his face. “I didn't see it that way.” He gave me a smirk. “I kinda hoped you’d think it was romantic.”
I laughed. It wasn't a happy laugh, more like an I-can't-believe-this-is-happening-laugh.
“Don't you want to know about that Emily Snow woman you saved?”
My eyes narrowed. That was low. Tempting me with something he knew I was interested in. I huffed, “Fine. Spill. Is she okay?” Eagerness made me sit straighter, inch closer.
Callan noticed and scooted closer too. Did this man know nothing about boundaries? “She's safe. My ex-partner, Mark Wade, is in control of her case. She'll be fine.” His face fell. “However, it seems she isn't a single case. Lots of girls have gone missing in Australia over the years. I'm working on tracking them down—seeing if more are linked to that Bazeer scum.”
What? More? Holy crap—how many?
Callan took a breath; energy snapped and crackled around us. “Ocean, I want you to know that your secret is safe with me. I won't tell anyone, and Wade is sworn to secrecy. Do you think we could grab a coffee? When you’re better, of course. Just chat? Get to know each other?”
He dropped his gaze, bunching the sheet with his fingers. “I’m fascinated by you. It isn’t because you’re stunning and freaky with your teleporting trick, but because I see behind your mask. I want to know what you keep hidden.”
My lungs stuck together with shock. My stupid brain locked onto the only superficial thing he’d said. He thinks I’m stunning. I lied to myself—I didn’t care. I had to stick to the facts: he flew all the way to England to ask me out on a date. After invading my privacy and hunting me down? I didn't think so.
I shook my head. “No.”
He flinched. “No. Just like that?”
My heart fluttered. He was too dangerous. If I got to know him then I would grow to like him. . . possibly even love him. Love was a weakness I would not endure. I couldn't.
I clambered out of bed. Pleased when I stood straight and firm. “I appreciate your journey, but my answer is no. Leave, please.” My headache pounded.
Callan didn't move. He was a statue, looking at me with wide eyes.
I growled, “Did you not hear me? I said leave.”
“Uh—” He stood slowly; eyes were no longer sea-green, but muted to muddy meadow. “You won’t even agree to have coffee? How bad can that be? If you don’t like me after an hour, you can say no then.”
My resolve weakened. Stop that. Love equals pain. “My answer is no, and will always remain no. Thank you for helping with Emily Snow, but you wasted your time.” A fissure of torture rippled through me. My ‘no’ desperately wanted to morph into a ‘yes’.
Callan opened his mouth, closed it again, and ran his hands through his hair. “Shit, I read everything wrong. I just thought… Oh, forget it.” Temper bloomed on his cheekbones. “Do you know how many hours I’ve thought about you? I’m such a sap.” Eyes burned into mine. “No. You know what? I’ve come half way around the world. The least you can do is talk to me for five minutes.”
I stared at him, dumbfounded. Now what was I supposed to do? He refused to leave, so apart from physically throwing him out, I was stuck. “Umm.” My eyes dropped to his shoes, trying desperately to think of something to say. “So you thought about me?” I wanted to slap my forehead. Crap, Ocean. Why, of all things, did you say that? It would just encourage him.
He cocked his head, a small smile twitching his mouth. “Yes. A lot. Did you think about me?”
What sort of question was that? One I wasn’t going to answer, that’s what. It had all sorts of problems associated with it. Namely, I couldn’t afford to let him see how much I was drawn to him. I wasn’t the right girl for him. He needed someone who wasn’t a murderess.
“No,” I said, standing taller. “Look, talking to me for five minutes isn’t going to change my mind. My answer will be the same.” My voice rose with panic. I was glad that it sounded more like anger.
Callan took a step toward me, his eyes delving deep into mine. “I think talking to you for five minutes might be the best idea I’ve ever had.” He stopped right in front of me. “You know a little about me. What about you?” He leaned forward so close I smelled his salty scent. “Tell me.”
I was a cat that had been backed into a corner. Something cold speared through my veins and the part of me that wasn’t my own rose to the surface. I bolted around him to the door, grabbing hold of the knob to keep me steady. “Get out. Now!” I didn’t know where the rolling, seething rage had come from, but it drowned out all rationality. “Leave!” My voice was too loud.
“Ocean?” Maurice dashed up the stairs, puffing in the corridor, looking between Callan and me. “What’s going on?”
“Nothing, Maurice. Callan was just leaving.”
“Like hell I was. A second ago you were nice to me, and then you turned into a banshee. I want to know what I’ve done that’s so offensive.”
Tears sprung to my eyes as something malicious whispered in my mind. He’s too nosy. Kill him. I flinched at the horridness. I’d never think to do that! Ignoring my thoughts, I kept my voice level. “I don’t want to see you again. Goodbye.” Get away from me before I hurt you.
Callan glowered at me, then looked at Maurice. I knew he was trying to think of a way to disobey me. I was glad Maurice was there as support—not that he’d interfere.
Callan sucked in a breath, prow
ling to the door. As he passed me, he said, “If, by some chance, you thaw enough to want another friend, someone who could help in your endeavors, then you know my email.” He shook his head, storming out the door, muttering, “I can't believe I was stupid enough to come here.”
And then he was gone.
My chest rose and fell. What did I do? I pissed on his attempt to get to know me; I slapped away his friendship and kicked him out after he travelled halfway around the world to see me. Crap, I was a horrid bitch.
I flinched as the front door slammed below. I wanted to bolt after him. Take him up on the offer of coffee. But I couldn't. I promised myself ten years ago. No family. No lover. Nothing. Maurice was my one exception to that rule.
Shit. And he still had my money! What the hell? At least my turbulent emotions gave me energy. I was no longer an invalid, but I couldn’t stay in my room another instant. I needed to stay active so I didn’t charge after Callan, begging him to forgive me.
Maurice shook his head as we walked down the stairs together. “What did you say? Poor bloke looked ruined.” He grinned slightly.
“Don't look happy about it or anything.” I settled gently in the wingback opposite Maurice’s. “You heard what I said. I told him to beat it.” I wanted to cringe at how horridly I treated him. Where had that flash of temper come from? That wasn’t me. I would never have been so mean.
Maurice chuckled. “Well played.”
“What?” My mouth flew open. I couldn't stop thinking about Callan's anger as he left. Would he ever forgive me? What did it matter? It was better this way.
“There's nothing more enticing for a man than a woman he can't have.”
I rolled my eyes. “I didn't say no to make him chase me, Maurice. He needs to keep his distance.”
Maurice shook his head. “I've seen that look in a man's eye before. He thinks he's given up. But I bet you a hundred quid he'll get in touch in a few days.”
Hope sparked, but I crushed it. I didn’t want him to get in touch. It was hard enough saying no this time. I might not have the strength again.
Enough of this. I refused to sit here over analyzing whether a cop liked me, when I should be saving those twins. I closed my eyes, testing my power.
A hard hand clamped around my wrist. “Oh no, you don't. You're not going back there. Not yet.”
My eyes shot fire. “Let me go, Maurice. I didn't save them all. They need me. I have to go.”
He frowned, color flushing his neck. “You don't if it means death for you, Ocean.”
I shook my head. “It was you who told me I had to pay for my darkness by saving lives. I can't abandon them. I wouldn't be able to live with myself. Danger or no danger.
“Don’t think these injuries will keep me house-bound, Maurice. You know me better than that.” I wouldn't allow Bazeer to live another moment. His life was a ticking clock.
“Ocean. Listen to me. I love you like the daughter I never had, and I am putting my foot down. You are not well enough to do what you need. You will only get caught. It might be a trap. Let the authorities get involved. Move onto a new monster.” His face was dark, but his voice rose with panic. “Focus on killing Adrian Mathieu and his unnamed associate— lay your past, your family’s memories to rest. Two more murders and you can be done with all of this. Finish it, Ocean. Not just for you, but for me.”
My heart went out to him. He cared too much about me. At the start of our relationship we kept it purely business; now it was complicated. Love and family were always complicated. Callan was complicated.
Something fractured deep inside me; I wrapped my arms around my body. Complicated—what a strange word to hurt me so much. Tightness banded my chest, squeezing my deep-seated need for the complications of family and love to an unbearable level. I grew up without it, ran from it, terrified of it, but it was what I craved.
Everything was so hard. My life was full of death and blood, and I was the only one to blame for my emptiness. Streaks of tears mixed with the antiseptic gunk on my face. Once I started, I couldn’t stop. I cried for the lost little girl inside me. I cried for the selfishness of needing Maurice to love me. I cried for telling Callan to leave. I cried for my compulsion.
I wanted to stop.
I wanted to give up on all those innocent victims. I didn't want to live with the hollowness in my soul—growing ever more cavernous the more lives I stole. I wanted to forget about my power and be normal. Find a husband. Be loved. Find contentment, happiness.
Yes, I wanted.
Which made it even more important to keep the frost around my heart. My only future was to kill darkness, to allow the toll of my work to suck me dry until I no longer existed.
That was my fate. I accepted it. Callan represented something I could never have. I needed to stop being so distracted and hungry for a man I didn’t know.
Maurice plucked some tissues from a box on the coffee table. No words were said as I mopped up my mess.
Once I sniffed my last, he said reluctantly, “If you must be stubborn, and not let your body rest, you can do something for me.” His eyes narrowed. “I’m only telling you this to stop you popping off to confront Bazeer. Don’t think I approve, especially when you’re unwell.”
He sighed and added, “I've done some digging. Your body needs to heal, Ocean, but I know you'll go insane if I hog tie you to the bed. Complete this task, and if nothing has been resolved with the sex trafficker, then you have my blessing to kill him.”
A burst of defiance heated me. I didn't need his blessing to kill Atsu Bazeer. It was my right on behalf of the untold number of woman who'd been his cash card.
“Will you do it?” Maurice raised his bushy white eyebrows, silently begging me. “For me?”
I was trapped. He knew he had me, and I wasn't happy. “What is it? What's so important you're willing to risk the lives of twin girls?”
His eyes glinted. “The lives of sixteen girls.”
Okay, now he had my undivided attention. All my anger and regret at turning away Callan disappeared in a flash. I wasn’t right for him. This was what I was comfortable with—saving others who actually had a chance at a happy life. “Sixteen? Where?”
Maurice opened his ledger. That damn ledger full of secrets. “When Callan called and told me who you were dealing with, I did my own research. Atsu Bazeer has many trafficking houses around South Africa. When I spoke to Ms. Jones, she mentioned something about a voodoo tale—sleeping with a young virgin will cure you of AIDS. I put two and two together.”
My heart sank. That was Thembi's fate before I saved her. Who knew how many were already lost?
Maurice pulled out a map of Ko-Ko-Tsara, a game reserve in South Africa. His finger stabbed at a southeast location. “There’s a temporary complex here, built for voodoo ceremonies. I called in a favor.”
I sucked in a breath. How many favors did Maurice have? Who owed him? What did he get up to, exactly?
“Sixteen girls, all different ages, all virgins, have been transported to this location.” He checked his watch. “If you leave now, you will make it before the purchases are completed.”
My body tensed with flashes of fear, followed by the lightness of hope. I gritted my teeth as a stronger emotion overtook my thoughts. Vengeance. Sweet, sweet vengeance.
Maurice took my hand. “Ocean. If you’re going to do this, be careful. There will be guards. There’ll be men who are ill, so be wary of blood—it could contaminate you. Do you understand?”
My brain whirred. Get in. Kill. Save the girls. “Can you arrange some sort of transportation to get the girls to safety?”
Maurice gave me a sly smile. “I've already got someone standing by with six Jeeps. You don't have to worry about porting them anywhere. You're to be a ghost.”
A smile spread across my lips. “A ghost.”
He nodded. “I didn't have any contacts who were skilled enough to get in and save the girls without collateral damage. You are to be unseen, do you hear me
?”
“What if I wasn't available? Who would’ve saved those girls?” I wanted to know about this sneaky part of Maurice.
“No one. It was too risky.”
I gasped. He would have left them to rot?
Maurice growled, “Ocean, you can't save everybody. Right this second people are dying. Crimes are being committed. You have to realize that you are not God. You are only one person. You have to stop beating yourself up.”
I sat straight. “When will you tell me who you truly are, Maurice?”
He chuckled. “Probably never, child. But that's because I love you.”
“You're so annoying. Has anyone ever told you that?”
Maurice laughed again. “My wife. Repeatedly.” His eyes shadowed with remembrance of the woman he'd lost. I never met her, but the photos around the house showed a vibrant woman who loved to laugh.
“Ocean, you need balance in your life. You need friends, happiness.”
I snorted. “If this is about Callan—”
He grew serious. “Don't lock your heart away forever.” He stood. “I'll go prepare you something to eat. You can't go without food. And I have a present for you.”
Another one? I fingered my peacock-phoenix necklace.
While Maurice bumbled around in the kitchen, my thoughts turned to Callan. Where was he right now? In a hotel? At the airport? Guilt settled, irritating me. I had no reason to feel guilty. It was he who spent all his money to come see me. I didn't invite him.
Money.
A certain cop was due a counter-attack. I would track him down and seize my cash. My heart grew fragile wings, while a snarling need grew in my belly. If I went to retrieve my money, would my body behave? Lust was an unwanted emotion.
Maurice appeared, food in one hand and a black-encased blade in the other.
I stood, eyeing the weapon with delicious anticipation.
“Here.” Maurice handed me the long machete. “I figured you should have a weapon bigger than a switchblade.”
The sounds of ringing bounced around the lounge as I pulled the machete free from its sheath.
My veins pooled with power, with merciless thirst. Tonight I would be a ghost.
