a Touch of the Past (An Everly Gray Adventure)

by Charles, L. j.

  Pierce didn’t reach for his cell.

  Since we’d been in Hawaii, he’d made a call every time I said something profound about my family, and this deviation from what had become standard protocol sent shivers up my spine. "Why aren’t you calling anyone? Sending someone to talk to Harlan?"

  Pierce held the Jeep door open for me. "Doesn’t feel right."

  "What does that mean? Exactly?" True, he’d been withdrawing since Mitch arrived, but this new attitude was way off. And it shot tiny bursts of adrenaline into my blood. Enough to make my skin crawl, but not enough to flip me into panic mode. Yet. I waited for him to answer. One beat. Two.

  O-kaaay then. No point listening to the silence when I had something to say. "Can we stop by my grandmother’s house on the way to Haleiwa Joe’s? Maybe Annie and Sean are still there, and I’d like to wander around, see if there’s anything my fingers can pick up."

  Pierce gave me a half-nod, rammed the key into the ignition, and took off, bits of gravel flying. Maybe he wasn’t as calm as I’d thought. Damn, but I needed to find a way to separate these men.

  "I forgot to ask Kahuna Aukele why Grandma had a house separate from his…theirs together. I know they lived in his house because I spotted feminine touches that felt like her, and I picked up some faint images of her from the floor pillows. And did you see the rocking chair on the side porch? It was identical to the one at her homestead."

  Pierce rolled his shoulders back with a typical these-kinks-are-killing-me move. "It’s not uncommon for land to stay in families. Your background file had the details."

  "Background file?" The words sounded like Mitch had squeezed them through sharp bits of glass.

  I mouthed later at him, because I really did not want to get into a discussion about the detailed information Pierce had accumulated about me, and, thank you Pele, we arrived at the remains of my grandmother’s house, just in time to create the perfect distraction.

  Sean was on the phone, and Annie was carefully placing bits of something into a plastic bag. "Looks like Annie and Sean have found something," I said, bouncing out of the Jeep.

  We strolled toward Sean and Annie like the Three Musketeers—me in the middle, flanked by Mitch and Pierce. I’d never spent so much together time with them, and it was beginning to annoy my inner bitch. Really. No woman should have to deal with more than one testosterone-laden man at a time.

  "Whatcha got?" I asked, moving behind Annie.

  "Hey, El. Not sure, but there are some bits of wood that didn’t burn normally. See—" she held up the plastic bag— "they stayed strong. Like they'd retained some of their natural moisture."

  She was right. The bits of wood in the baggie hadn’t dried and burned during the fire, but appeared to be pale green shoots, more typical of saplings. I shivered, the heat of the day turning to chill bumps on my skin.

  "Indestructible," I mumbled.

  Annie tilted her head, and nodded. "It fits as far as words go. But we need to see what the analysis of this sample shows. Sean and I are going to deliver this sample to the labs right away."

  I took the baggie from her hand and fingered the contents through the plastic. Waves of nausea rolled through my stomach, gagging me. I dropped the bag, clutching at my abdomen. "Bad," I panted. "That’s bad stuff."

  It took a few breaths before the nausea passed. Mitch had wrapped his arms around me, and I pressed my forehead into his chest, inhaling slow, deep breaths until the spasm in my gut relaxed. I desperately needed to smell him—the soap from our shower, the spice from his shaving cream, the cool winter-snow scent that belonged to him alone. I breathed in, savoring the fragrance until it bathed every cell in my brain.

  "You okay, Sunshine?" Mitch’s lips brushed the top of my head.

  "Yeah. I am. It’s…" I stepped back, looked at him, this man I loved. Drank in the concern that had darkened his eyes.

  Annie, Pierce, and Sean gathered around us.

  "What did you see?" Pierce’s tone held the crisp demand of guy-in-charge, but underneath I sensed how much he cared about me. Annie touched my shoulder, the bag of wood bits in her other hand. "Looks like your fingers found something interesting, but please don’t ever touch this stuff again."

  I shuddered. "No worries there."

  Sean handed me a bottle of water, yanked it back to remove the lid, then pushed it into my hand. "Drink, then describe, hmmm?"

  I chugged the whole bottle, tossed him the empty.

  Impatience was rapidly chasing away Pierce’s concerned expression. Time to get on with it.

  "Weird." I eyed the baggie in Annie’s hand, and backed away a couple of steps. "I don’t think you should be holding that. It’s poison. Possibly lethal."

  Sean took it from her and put it in the trunk of the Mazda.

  Pierce shot me a look. "Now, Belisama."

  "It was like my body had passed out, but my brain cells kept working. I couldn’t feel Mitch, but I knew he was holding me—except the knowledge wasn’t front and center in my head. It was more like, I don’t know, tucked into a hidden corner of my mind."

  I shook my head, trying to clear the last of the sticky cobwebs that had attached to my brain. "And the smell thing. I needed to inhale great gasps of Mitch's scent. My olfactory senses…I don’t have a word, so I’ll just say…exploded…with the need to drink in a familiar scent."

  The four of them shared do-we-need-to-get-her-to-the-hospital glances.

  I pointed at the Mazda. "That stuff needs to get to your labs yesterday. And just FYI, smell is the first sense a newborn develops. I’m thinking whatever kind of poison that is, it freezes brain cells in their original state. Or something."

  Pierce eyed me. "You figure it’s a component of what that bastard used to infect my team?"

  "Could be, but I didn’t touch it with that intention. Sometimes, if I have a specific question, the images I get will be related. I’m sorry. I didn’t think about the attack on Sand Island before I touched the baggie." My voice trailed off as I considered the small, plastic bag in the Mazda’s trunk.

  "And you’re not touching it again." Mitch—in protective mode.

  "No. I’m…that wouldn’t be a good idea."

  My skin prickled with ugly premonition.

  We stood there, the five us, a contemplative group lost in smothering thoughts.

  Time slowed, stuttered to a stop.

  I watched Pierce’s usually acute observation skills dim, and without touching him, guessed his thoughts had drifted to the loss of his team.

  Annie’s sharp intuition was focused on Pierce.

  Mitch held his gaze on me, the warm brown of his eyes clouded with worry.

  A ripple of fear slithered down my spine.

  Sean reacted first. "Down!" he yelled, lunging for Annie.

  She sidestepped him, jumping in front of me. I grabbed for both her and Mitch, trying to pull them away from the danger.

  Pierce snapped into fighting stance, firing the weapon in his hand toward our attacker.

  The arrow flew in a precise arc toward us.

  And burrowed deeply into the tender flesh under Annie’s collarbone.

  Twenty-one

  My scream cut through the soft Hawaiian breeze, then broke off with a sharp gasp as I slammed against the ground. No air. Couldn’t breathe. Panic threatened, but I focused on the arrow protruding from Annie’s upper chest, knowing my lungs would suck in oxygen as soon as they remembered how to work.

  The wooden shaft stood deceptively tall against the hazy blue background of the summer sky, and at the notched end black and red feathers ruffled softly in the breeze.

  Somewhere in the background of reality Pierce yelled. Mitch tugged me away from Annie’s body, and Sean murmured to her in low, soothing tones as he yanked the arrow out.

  Air finally blossomed in my lungs. Sucking in a breath, I reveled in the pain that shot through me. I was alive.

  "Annie," I whispered.

  Mitch brushed the hair off my face.
"She’s breathing, but unconscious. Sean called an ambulance."

  "Who shot her?" I had to think about the words because they weren’t flowing from my brain quite right.

  "Don’t know. Pierce fired on him, and then chased after him. I didn’t see much because you pulled me out of the way." His fingers trembled against my cheek. "He was aiming for you."

  I rolled to face Annie and touched her shoulder. No images. Just like when I’d touched the guy who’d died at Jayne and Parker Steele’s séance. Even though it had been a few months back, I’d never forget that horrible sensation of no images.

  The soft spot between my shoulder blades knotted, and my heart raced.

  A trickle of blood oozed from Annie’s wound. Hardly a reason for her to be unconscious. I watched her breathe. Too shallow. "It’s the toxin, isn’t it?"

  I shifted my gaze, pinned it on Sean. "That’s why you pulled the arrow out so quickly. She moved in front of me. Took the hit that was meant for me."

  Sean held my gaze, steady, confident. "Yes, I think the arrow was laced with poison. As far as protecting you—that’s who Annie J. is. She wouldn’t have it any other way. You know that, right?"

  Tears pooled in my eyes.

  "Yeah." I eased up, balancing my upper body weight on my forearm. Pain stopped my inhalation, telling me that I must have bruised something when I fell. "But that doesn’t stop the guilt. She’s going to be okay, isn’t she? You’re a paramedic, so you know—"

  "I don’t know. I have nothing. No oxygen. No way to start an IV…" His breath caught as he traced his index finger along the side of Annie’s face.

  Her body was so still, but her breathing was steady. I jumped to my feet, grabbing at my side. Damn. I needed to stop with the sudden moves. I ignored the pain, needing to find the bastard who’d done this to Annie. "Where is he?"

  "Hey, Hunt." Pierce’s voice was coarse with demand.

  That answered my question, and I zeroed in on a scene fifty feet to my left. A body rested at Pierce’s feet.

  Mitch responded, leaping up and sprinting toward Pierce.

  Adrenaline pounded in my veins, and I followed, only I couldn’t keep up, kept gasping for breath. Broken rib? I pressed my hand tight to the pain and kept moving.

  I skidded to a stop, taking in the scene. Pierce had the guy pinned face down, cuffs circling his wrists. The ground was wet and dark beneath his shoulder. "You shot him?"

  "Wanted answers. Didn’t kill him." He focused on Mitch. "There’s rope in the boot compartment of the Jeep. Bring it, would you?"

  Mitch gave him a curt nod and took off.

  "Who is it? You recognize him?" I bent to touch the body, but my fingers were shaking, so I stood, shook my hands, clenched and flexed my fingers until I got the shaking under control.

  Irish blue eyes, bright with anger, met my gaze. "Brody Williams." Two words, both strung tight as steel.

  Cold crept over my skin. "Williams tried to kill me?"

  Pierce lifted a shoulder, the movement stiff. "You stood between him and Annie."

  Mitch secured Williams’ ankles with the rope. Fast. Professional. Questions surfaced, but I shrugged them to the back of my mind. He could explain later where he learned that particular skill. Calf roping, maybe? Right now I had a job to do.

  Pierce rolled Williams over, pressed a folded handkerchief to his shoulder wound, and applied pressure.

  Super spy apparently had an endless source of old fashioned white handkerchiefs. The smile disappeared as I stared at the man who had just shot Annie full of poison. And, yeah. It was the same guy who’d been stalking me on the beach—my fake client and Annie’s ex—Brody Williams.

  His eyes were closed, and he appeared to be unconscious. Probably due to the bloody gash on his temple or maybe it was shock from the gunshot wound, but still… "He’s not going to wake up if I touch him, right?" I asked, squatting next to Williams.

  "Nope. Hit his head when he fell." Pierce angled his chin toward a large rock on the far side of the bloodied body.

  Sirens echoed in the distance, their grating whine urging me to hurry.

  Mitch hunkered beside me. "You want to lean on me, or go it alone?"

  "Stay in touching distance, okay?"

  He nodded, and I reached my hand toward Williams, wincing at the pain in my side. "Anything you want me to focus on before I touch him? See if I can influence the images."

  "Where the toxin is. Who he’s working with." Pierce—clipped, precise, every inch the super spy.

  I rested my fingers against Brody’s arm and images sprang to life on my internal monitor. "He was after me to punish Annie. It’s definitely the same guy I saw on the beach—my supposed client."

  Guilt slashed through me. I’d led him to her by taking him on, agreeing to work with him. "He’s never accepted their divorce. Looks like he tracked the poison through my emails with Mitch, Jayne, and Parker Steele. You weren’t around for the séance-gone-wrong, but it was definitely the catalyst for this. And my emails." Another blast of guilt pierced my heart. "My fault for trusting cyberspace."

  I backed away as law enforcement types scattered over the area. It was gonna be a long day, and we needed to get help for Annie. I tossed words at Pierce as I backpedaled. "He worked in South America, learning about, and cultivating the toxin, and then he spent time here testing different fertilizers, plant food, whatever. I didn’t get an image of any place local."

  I was more familiar with Tripler Army Medical Center than I ever wanted to be. Annie was locked behind closed doors in the intensive care unit, her condition critical. Brody Williams was in custody, his wounds treated—unfortunately, they weren’t life threatening. And I had a cracked rib.

  Mitch and I had taken turns pacing the ICU waiting room for the past three hours, hoping for news about Annie. They let Sean stay with her, and he’d been out a few times to update us, but...

  Sean stalked into the waiting room. "They kicked me out."

  Paralyzing numbness had taken over my body, but seeing the slump of Sean’s shoulders, and the dark circles dulling his pale blue eyes—his pain jolted me from shut-down mode. "She’s still cr-critical?" I couldn’t stop the emotion swelling in my throat. Didn’t want to. I loved Annie, and I owed her.

  "Yes. No sign of renal failure yet, but the longer they can’t find an antitoxin…" He scrubbed at his face.

  "I tried to call Parker Steele, and texted him when he didn’t answer. He pulled through when he was infected with a similar poison, so there must be some way they can create an antitoxin from his cells, or whatever it is they do."

  "What if he doesn’t get here in time? What if it doesn’t work?" Sean's shoulders shook with silent sobs.

  Respecting his privacy, I laid the back of my hand on his shoulder. "It’ll work. It has to. Annie is strong, you know that. Parker, Jayne, and Adam are already on their way for the…" I didn’t finish the sentence. Couldn’t push wedding out of my throat. I had to fix this. If I could only go back and stop her from moving in front of me.

  A nurse poked her head around the door. "You can go back in, Mr. Martin. Same rules apply."

  The oxygen in the room seemed to disappear with Sean as he hurried back to Annie's side.

  Nothing had changed.

  Adam was on a plane and was expected to arrive within a few hours.

  And I needed to talk to Pierce. I’d tried texting and leaving voicemail—no response.

  Mitch caught my hand when I made a turn to pace in the other direction. "Much as I don’t like the way he looks at you, Pierce is okay. He’ll get back to you."

  He must have been reading my mind. He’d been getting good at that, and it sparked an inkling of the intrusion he probably felt when I picked up images from touching him.

  No secrets.

  And I finally got it. People in relationships needed privacy, and it was even more important to honor that need when they wanted the relationship to last.

  "I know, Mitch. It’s just that I’m s
ure they’ll learn something to help Annie if they study Parker. He has antibodies to whatever was in the toxic substance that almost killed him, and we need to get him here. Now."

  Pierce chose that moment to stroll into the waiting room, hands shoved in his pockets, his expression grim. "A.J.?"

  "Holding her own. But we need an antitoxin. Parker—"

  "On his way. Should be here—" Pierce glanced at his watch— "in two hours."

  Relief tumbled through my veins. Okay, then. I had to move on and let the doctors take care of Annie. Nothing I could do about that. "Brody Williams?" I asked. I could be cryptic, too.

  Pierce’s jaw tightened. "He’s being transported to a secure facility for questioning. "

  His words punched my guilt up a notch. "I want to be there. No, I need to be there. My mother started this, my parents gave their lives to protect the world from this stuff, and Williams was my client. I have a right—"

  "It’s arranged, Belisama. You and Hunt can follow me." Pierce did an abrupt about face and strode from the waiting room.

  Mitch and I followed, tight on his heels.

  I stopped at the nurses’ station to leave a message for Sean, then threaded my fingers with Mitch’s. "What’s wrong?"

  He shrugged, the movement ragged with irritation. "Bastard wants you and I don’t like it."

  My belly clenched. I had to fix this. "But—"

  "There are no buts. I respect the guy, even liked him before he started eyeing you like designer ammo. Pisses me off that he calls you Belisama."

  "It doesn’t mean anything, not like an endearment. It’s his way of giving me grief. Refers to my red hair. Belisama means summer bright."

  A sharp voice in the back of my mind cut me off.

  Shut up, Everly. You’re probably making it worse.

  I had to bite my cheek to stop the stupid, rambling words.