Untouched

by Sara Humphreys

When they walked into the lobby, Kerry almost got ambushed by Brent, the nervous and sweaty hotel clerk. The poor kid ended up running face first into Dante, who with lightning fast speed had put himself in front of Kerry. Brent stumbled backward and would’ve fallen on his backside if Dante hadn’t grabbed him by the arm. The kid went white as a sheet and stammered in an effort to get out his reason for coming over to them.

  “What can I do for you?” Dante growled.

  Kerry grabbed Dante by the shoulder and pulled him away from the overzealous concierge. “Easy there, killer.” She rolled her eyes, and shaking her head, directed her attention to a very sweaty Brent. “Hi. Brent, right? Don’t mind Mr. Coltari here,” she said with a nod toward Dante. “He’s all bark and no bite.”

  Or is it howl? Her sarcastic jibe shot into Dante’s mind with all the sass she’d surely intended. He shot her a skeptical look. Wolves howl. I am a fox. She laughed softly. Yes, you are. Now stop scaring this poor kid. He’s just doing his job.

  The sexy purr of her voice sent an electric shock directly to his crotch. She winked at him, and he wanted nothing more than to pick her up, take her upstairs, and ravage her.

  The boy squirmed uselessly in his grip. Dante had practically forgotten the kid was there. Straightening his back, he turned his full attention back to Brent.

  The pale young man nodded and licked his lips nervously. “Yes, ma’am.” He looked up at Dante, immediately took a step backward, and stuck his hand out. “This came for you this morning,” he said, referring to the large red envelope in his shaking hands. Keeping his wide eyes on Dante, he waved it over in Kerry’s direction.

  Kerry took the envelope and laughed softly while opening it. “You know, Brent, he’s very bossy and kind of pushy…” Her voice trailed off as her energy waves fired in rapid succession. Dante barely noticed Brent as he babbled an incoherent apology and scurried off. All of the color had drained from Kerry’s face, and she looked up at Dante with fear and confusion.

  “What is it?” He snatched the note from her hand, and white-hot anger boiled through him as he read the words in front of him in bold black marker.

  You’re going to die. Just like your

  whore mother.

  —The punisher is coming—

  “My mother? You don’t think this could be true, do you? Oh my God, Dante. I have to call my mother,” she said through a shaking breath. “Who the hell is the ‘Punisher’?”

  Dante stuffed the note in his back pocket and pulled her to him as she frantically searched for her phone in the massive bag. He held her there in the shelter of his body and scanned the lobby for Brent as he whisked her to the front entrance of the hotel.

  Brent was nowhere in sight.

  “I’m getting you to the car with Pete. You’ll be safe there. Wait until you’re in the car to call your mother.” He kept his voice low and calm.

  Dante walked her outside and was relieved to find Pete leaning casually against the car, waiting for them as planned. He smiled when he saw them, but it faded once he saw the look on Dante’s face. He opened the back door without Dante having to say a word. Kerry settled into the backseat, and the moment the door slammed shut Pete turned to face a very angry Dante.

  “You keep her in there. No one—and I mean no one—gets near her except for you or me. You got that?”

  Pete nodded solemnly. “You got it, boss.”

  “I’ll be right back. Stay here.”

  Dante stalked back into the hotel lobby and immediately went to the concierge desk. His fists repeatedly clenched and unclenched at his side. The very idea that someone would threaten his mate sent him to a dark and dangerous place he didn’t even know existed. He pushed right past the four people waiting in line. One look from him silenced any objections they’d been about to voice.

  “Where is Brent?” He bit the words out and struggled to keep his eyes from shifting.

  The stunned young woman behind the counter stared up at him with wide eyes. “He’s in the back.” She pointed to an office behind the counter. “But you can’t go in there!”

  Amid her insistent protests Dante placed both hands on the marble counter and hopped effortlessly over the front desk. He gave a curt nod to the shocked girl and let himself into the back office. As the door shut firmly behind him, he found a very shocked Brent sitting at a computer. Dante walked over and leaned onto the desk. Brent sat back in his chair, attempting to get as far away as he could go. Little beads of sweat formed on his pale skin, his face etched in absolute terror. Dante scanned his mind and found it filled with bright red fear.

  “Who gave you that note for Ms. Smithson?” His voice, low and deadly, came out not much louder than a whisper.

  “I don’t know. It was sitting on the concierge desk when I came in this morning. The other girl, Maddy, didn’t see who put it there either. I’m sorry, Mr. Coltari. Please don’t beat me up.” Brent babbled and answered with such speed that Dante thought the kid might pass out. “Why? Was it bad? The note I mean? What happened? Is Ms. Smithson okay? I would never do anything to upset her. We pride ourselves on excellent service, and lots of famous people have stayed here without any problems.”

  Dante narrowed his eyes and pushed himself off the desk. Brent let out visible sigh of relief as Dante increased the distance between them.

  “Here’s the deal,” he began quietly with his glare trained on the kid. “No one else is to know about the note. Do you understand?” Brent nodded wordlessly, and his throat worked as he swallowed hard. “If you get any other notes or messages for Ms. Smithson, you be sure to call me right away.” He removed his business card from his wallet. “If anyone asks about her or inquires as to her whereabouts, you will tell them that you don’t know who she is, and you’ve never seen her before in your life. Are we clear?”

  “Yes, sir.” Brent nodded furiously and repeated that over and over. Brent watched with wide eyes as Dante walked out of the office and left him gratefully alone. The moment the door shut, he promptly grabbed the nearest wastebasket and vomited.

  Dante made his way back outside and found Pete and Kerry exactly where he’d left them. Fear for her safety and a sense of dread nagged at him relentlessly. After scanning Brent’s mind, he knew that the kid had nothing to do with writing the note. He wasn’t Caedo. He heard the poor kid puking after he walked out. He had merely been the unsuspecting messenger. His mind raced with the frightening possibilities. Whoever sent the note had signed it “The Punisher”—it had to be a Caedo, a Purist, or possibly both. Her heritage was, obviously, no longer a secret.

  He scanned the hotel lobby and found nothing. Stepping into the damp Louisiana air, he reached out in search of any clue as to who had left the note. Nothing. Whoever left it was long gone. Walking up to the car, his heart broke at the sight of her face in the window. Fear and confusion hung over her like a shroud. It flowed thick and dense like the New Orleans air. Pete, as promised, stood guard next to the car. Dante had to admit Pete was a formidable man, even for a human.

  “What happened in there?” Pete asked with a nod toward the hotel.

  “Nothing,” Dante lied. “Just an eager fan hoping to get her autograph.” He gave Pete a slap on the shoulder and forced a smile. “Let’s get going. If we don’t step on it, she’s going to be late.”

  Pete made a sound of agreement and walked around to get into the car. Dante had surprised himself by lying to Pete. Pete didn’t know about the Amoveo people, and Dante could’ve easily passed the note off as some run of the mill note from a kook. He’d always trusted Pete, but unfortunately the rules had changed, and he had to be suspicious of everyone. His father had recently taught him that very painful lesson.

  Dante opened the back door of the car, and he couldn’t help but grin as Kerry slid over to make room for him. Shutting the door, he did his best to ignore the inquisitive look from Pete.

  “Did you get a chance to make that call?” he asked Kerry as innocently as possible.

 
Kerry narrowed her eyes. “Yes, actually. Everything’s fine. I guess it was nothing.”

  Dante nodded and looked out the window. He reached out to her with his mind, longing for that intimate connection, needing to have her touch his mind with hers and feel her energy tangled with his. Your mother is alright?

  Yes. She’s fine. Seemed more annoyed that I had interrupted her day at the Elizabeth Arden Spa to be honest. Her voice, sweet and soothing, filled his head as their minds connected. I guess it was just someone’s idea of a sick joke.

  They rode in comfortable silence for a while, and he enjoyed the way her energy mingled with his. He reached over and took her hand in his, not caring whether Pete saw it. He needed to touch her, to feel her warm, soft skin against him. Dante’s lips curved in a satisfied smile as she gently rubbed her thumb along his, accepting his touch and reciprocating it.

  She never should’ve adopted me. The sadness in her voice pulled at him from the inside out, and then the realization hit him. He gripped her hand tighter and turned to her, capturing her gaze with his.

  Adopted? Oh no. Slowly, Kerry’s eyes grew wide as the real meaning of the note dawned on her as well. Oh my God. That note wasn’t referring to her, was it? Whoever wrote that was talking about my birth mother. Weren’t they? Dante, what on earth is going on?

  “Hey, you two sure are quiet back there.” Pete’s voice snapped them both back to reality. “Hope everything’s okay because we’re almost there.”

  Kerry eyed Dante suspiciously. You’re not telling me everything, are you?

  It will be alright. I promise. He gave her hand a reassuring squeeze and prayed he could keep that promise. The truth was that he didn’t know. For all he knew they could be walking directly into a trap. The fact that the house they were driving to was owned by a Vasullus weighed heavily on his mind. Are you sure you want to work? We can turn back to the hotel. Perhaps it would be best if you got some rest.

  She looked back at him and tilted her chin in defiance. My job is about the only normal thing I’ve got left. I’m not losing that too. I need some kind of normalcy. I need to work. Don’t push it.

  Dante gave a brief nod of acceptance as she withdrew her hand. He had barely noticed that they’d left the city limits and were now in the rural area of Braithwaite. Route 39 had flown by in one monotonous blur. They turned down a long, winding dirt road. It was so narrow that two cars could not pass at the same time. Someone would end up having to back up. Thick with brambles and sprawling cypress trees, it gave the impression of driving through a tunnel. For those few moments, it seemed as if they were the only people left on the planet.

  They rounded the corner, and the old house came into view. It became glaringly clear why Pete had questioned this shoot location. Their car pulled up to a stop, and the tires crunched in what was left of a circular gravel driveway. The three sat in silence for a moment, taking in the timeworn sight before them.

  A massive old plantation house loomed largely before their eyes. The white paint had long since chipped away on most spots of the wooden siding. The once black shutters, now a pale gray, hung sadly and sporadically on several of the windows. The large front porch, which at one time was undoubtedly welcoming, looked forlorn, and the columns that framed it seemed to weep under the weight of the sad old house.

  Most of the windows were either cracked or broken and looked miserably over the unkempt landscape. The large driveway circled around an ancient stone fountain with a dancing cherub; its water had dried up long ago. It sat strangled beneath gnarled, overgrown thorny vines and jumbled brambles.

  The photographer, Arthur, and Jacqueline had obviously arrived earlier in the morning and set everything up. Kerry consistently requested a closed set. A shiny white trailer trimmed in chrome sat parked to the right along with their various cars. Lights and camera equipment sat waiting at the foot of the steps, which led up to the massive porch. To the right of the old house sat a rundown little cottage, and it brought Dante right back to reality. He knew that Joseph Vasullus lived there.

  Dante, his eyes fixed on the little hut, got out of the car and scanned the area with his mind. No danger lurked nearby, but one question nagged at him mercilessly. Could he trust anyone?

  Well, you could start by trusting the two of us. Really. Dante, how insulting. William’s terse voice caught Dante by surprise. He looked to his right and saw him sitting in a massive oak tree. His bright white feathers spotted with brown glowed amid the green leaves. His sharp black eyes were fixed on Dante. Even in his Falcon form he looked stiff. Dante stole a glance at Kerry, but she seemed too entranced by the old house to notice the rather unusual bird.

  Sorry. Is Steven here too?

  I’m back here to the left of the house. Relax brother. I see you got her out of the dream realm.

  Dante put on his sunglasses and scanned the area for Steven. Sure enough, he saw him hunkered down in the overgrown grasses. Yes, I did. We have a problem.

  And this is news? Steven chuckled.

  As Dante relayed the latest developments and told them about the note and his suspicions, he watched Kerry as she moved easily amid the unusual surroundings. Her long body moved with sinewy and graceful fluidity. She climbed the one or two steps and opened the door of her trailer. Suddenly, she stopped in the middle of the open doorway. Dante watched, fascinated, as she looked around the property surrounding the house. He could see she was looking for something specific.

  Within a few minutes her gaze landed on William, who sat up in the oak tree in the form of his falcon. Slowly, her attention turned to Dante, and even from this distance he could feel the intensity of her anger. Her voice slammed into him with the strength of a physical blow. Holy shit! Is that one of your animal friends?

  Dante cringed. He should’ve known she would pick up on their communication. Based on how angry she looked, he also should’ve told her there would be other Amoveo in the area. That is William, and he’s here to help us.

  Before he could finish his thought, she dropped her mental shield and shut him out. With one last look of disdain, she went into the trailer and slammed the door. As he stood in the driveway helplessly staring after her, Steven’s teasing voice whisked into his head. Man you suck at this.

  Chapter 9

  Kerry hadn’t been this angry in a very long time. She had heard the expression—make your blood boil—but she never really understood it until just now. First he dumps a ridiculous amount of outrageous information in her lap, and then he has the audacity to spy on her with more of his people. As she worked on her hair, she could swear she saw actual steam rising from her head. When she had walked up to the trailer to get ready, she had detected an odd buzzing sound in the air around her, but it had been even more than that. The sound resonated and vibrated through her body and around it.

  When she stopped to listen more closely, she heard voices within the buzzing. As if phone lines got crossed. She heard Dante’s voice, or felt it; she wasn’t really sure which. As soon as she spotted that weird bird she knew. Part of the energy she felt and heard came directly from that enormous bird in the tree. The second she laid eyes on it she knew it wasn’t a regular bird. First of all, it was massive. Secondly, it was far too exotic to be in this far-flung area. It looked like it belonged in the Arctic or something. Either way, it definitely wasn’t a normal bird.

  Truthfully, she didn’t know what she was more upset about. That he secretly brought in more of these Amoveo guys or that he’d been speaking to someone else telepathically. She had stupidly assumed it was something just the two of them shared.

  Annoyed at her girlish jealousy, she furiously coiffed her hair into a sixties-inspired, bouffant hairdo and applied the dark dramatic makeup that Jacqueline had requested. Kerry always did her own hair and makeup for reasons that were obvious only to her. She’d become skilled enough at it that most clients let her do it herself. In the beginning of her career, it saved the clients money, since they didn’t have to pay the addition
al expense of hair and makeup staff. Once she’d established herself, people took it as a unique quirk. On the rare occasion a client refused, Kerry would simply pass on the job. This usually led to them giving in and letting her do it herself.

  Satisfied that she’d achieved the desired effect, Kerry turned to the rack of lingerie for the shoot. She eyed the hanging pieces carefully and found that Jacqueline had tagged each one with a number. To her surprise, number one also included a black satin trench coat, in addition to the lingerie. She removed the first garment, and a slow smile spread over her face. She remembered what Jacqueline had said at dinner—the beauty that lies beneath. Her smile faded as darkness crept into her mind. The images from touching Jacqueline flashed through her memory. That man in the vision was so angry and completely focused on getting to Kerry. She shuddered and shook her head, refusing to allow the memory to surface.

  Without wasting more time she removed her dressing robe and quickly donned the satin and lace ensemble. The black satin bra and panties were paired with a lace garter belt and black silk stockings. Kerry slipped on the patent leather stilettos and took one final look in the mirror. Her alabaster skin seemed even whiter than normal today as she pulled on the jet black trench and tied it tightly around her waist. She couldn’t wait to see the look on Dante’s face when she walked out in this getup. She may struggle in several areas of her life, but no one could work a camera like she could.

  Kerry stepped out of her trailer and found Dante standing guard just outside the door. He looked at her with that sexy smile. He practically devoured her with his eyes as he offered her his hand. Mustering up all of her self-control, she refused it.

  “I’m still annoyed with you,” she said. “It’s going to take more than flashing me those sexy eyes.” Even though that look melted her to the core, she certainly couldn’t let him know that. “You’re not off the hook yet. Later, after this is over, you’re telling me everything. Got it?”