by Lara Nance
The Taker’s eyes grew wide, and his smile faded. “What the hell—”
Out of nowhere, a fist connected with the creep’s temple. Her attacker loosened his grip and stumbling sideways. Cara fell to her knees, sucking air into her starved lungs.
A stealthy black shadow advanced on the man, slammed her attacker against the wall. The Taker bounced off to land on a spindly side table which shattered beneath his weight.
The downed man grabbed a piece of the broken table and hurled it at the shadowy figure bearing down on him. The Taker kicked Dusty out of his way and scrambled to the window. He threw himself over the sill to the alley below. Dusty ran and put his paws on the window, barking. In the light from the streetlamp, the dark shadow, her rescuer, took the shape of a tall man. He placed a hand on Dusty’s head. Her dog glanced up then licked the stranger’s hand. Hey, dog, does the word ‘stranger’ mean anything to you?
The figure turned from the window, lips curled back from his teeth and dark brows pulled together in a frown. Rolf Van Harding. Cara gasped, and her heart dropped. She put a hand to her throbbing throat. Pain seared her like a hot brand, and she massaged her back where it had slammed into the wall. She looked up and the hard creases of his grimace softened into concern.
“Are you all right?” His deep, silken tone slid over her like black velvet.
She hauled in a big breath, trying to calm her heart. “I think so…Nicki.” She swiveled on her knees and crawled to the girl. Nicki still lay stretched on the floor, eyes wide in terror. “Are you okay?”
“Who the hell was that?” Nicki clutched her own throat, her eyes shaded with fear. The girl sat up to lean against a tattered chair, rubbing her thin arms with shaking hands. Her eyes darted from Cara to Rolf, who had stepped back into the shadows.
“Nicki, we need to get you to a hospital to make sure you’re okay.” Cara put a hand on the girl’s forehead and found the skin ice cold to her touch. She ran her fingers over Nicki’s skull but detected no evidence of trauma.
“I’m not going to no hospital.” She pushed Cara’s hands away and scrambled to her feet. Her knees wobbled, but she staggered to the door.
“What the hell’s goin’ on here?” a voice called and Cara recognized it as Mambo’s. He and several of his gang gathered outside Nicki’s door. Knives and guns flashed in their hands. Nicki sobbed and fell into his arms.
“They hurt you?” He glared at Cara.
“No, no. They saved me. Some dude was goin’ to kill me, and they came in and saved me.” Nicki’s voice trembled.
Mambo’s glare softened, but he pointed at Cara. “I take care of my own. Remember. Now get off my turf.”
He backed away with Nicki under his arm, and the rest wandered off in their wake.
“Nicki.” Cara stood and rushed out the door, staring after the girl, but the gang continued down the hall without a backward glance.
“You have a cut.” The smooth, deep voice startled her.
She whirled about. “You.” Still unsure if he was friend or foe, her instincts pushed her to step away from him.
“Yes?” He stared at her.
“You came into my friend Amber’s shop. I saw you…I…I—I saw you there.” Her head pounded with each beat of her heart. She put a hand to her forehead.
“I remember.” He eased closer, his gaze roving over her from under lowered lids. He tugged at one of his ear lobes. “Your name is Cara.”
“What are you doing here?” Her vision blurred and she slapped a hand to the cracked wall to steady herself. The blood drained from her head.
Rolf lurched toward her, and everything faded in a black mist.
Chapter Ten
Consciousness returned like a fog lifting, and she found herself in an unfamiliar room. Cara blinked several times, bringing the disjointed image into focus. Gold and green striped wallpaper covered the walls of the room. Furniture with gilded limbs and cushions of silk and velvet surrounded her. Thick rugs covered the marble floor. The soft sound of classical music met her ears—some tune she knew but couldn’t name. Oddly, a four foot tall, white stone obelisk stood in the corner of the room, out of place with the other decor. The smell of wood burning tickled her nostrils, and the crackling of a fire came to her ears.
Pain throbbed in her head. Her neck and back hurt as well. She raised her upper body from the gold velvet chaise. A crimson satin pillow supported her head. She sat up the rest of the way, swinging her feet to the floor.
“I’m glad to see you’re better.” Rolf’s voice filtered in from behind her.
She turned her head and sudden darkness curved the edges of her vision in response. “That sucked, I’ll just not turn my head for a while.” She closed her eyes for a moment, and her head cleared.
Rolf, still dressed in all black but now a suit with a black T-shirt, sat in a chair beside a fireplace where a small fire burned. A book rested across his knees, and Dusty lay at his feet, contentedly snoozing. The traitor. An open door led into the hall—a possible escape route?
She rose and moved around the chaise to face him, leaving a few feet between them. Just in case. “Where is this place? Why did you bring me here?”
“We’re still in Norfolk, in a house I’ve rented while I’m staying here. I like to travel with my own furnishings. And I brought you here because you were unconscious.”
“You’re a Light-dealer,” she said. The half smile twitching at the corners of his lips both irritated and attracted her.
Dusty rose and padded over to greet her. He licked her hand and leaned against her legs.
“Light-dealer.” Rolf shifted in his seat. “I’ve not heard that term in many centuries. How strange, yet soothing.” He glanced at the corner where the obelisk stood, his focus distant.
“What do you mean centuries?” Echoes of ancient secrets chilled her, yet an inexorable urge gripped her to be closer to him—to trust him.
His eerie, ice blue eyes refocused on her. “I’m sorry. Yes, I deal in the Light. I have not met very many in these days who have knowledge of what they do. What a welcome surprise it was to find two in one place. By the way, I can help with your headache if you like. Take away the pain.” He reached out a hand toward her, but she backed up until her butt pressed against the chaise.
“I’ll be okay.” She touched a hand to her head and her fingers brushed a bandage on the skin above her left eye. “What are you doing here?”
“In town, or at the apartment tonight?”
“Both.”
Rolf let out a small bark of a laugh and gestured for her to take a seat in the chair across from his. She shook her head, still not sure what to think of this whole situation. The heat that had emanated from him in the store no longer existed. He must be able to control it.
“I’m in town to deal with a threat. I went to the apartment because I followed the Taker there.”
“A threat? Taker?” She tilted her head to one side and crossed her arms over her chest. “Please explain.”
“You really don’t want to be involved in this.” He shifted in his chair. “You have no idea of the danger.”
Cara pointed to her head, indicating her injuries. “Already involved.”
A half smile tweaked his full lips. “It’s been so long since I had the opportunity to converse openly about the Light. Please, tell me how you know about Light-dealing.”
“I appreciate your attempt to divert me, but we’ve had some strange happenings recently and if you know anything about it, we really need to know.” She leaned forward and jabbed a finger at him. “People are dying and not nicely. My friends and I know how, but not why.”
Rolf leaned back in his chair and puffed out a big breath. “So, you demand the truth. It seems you may have some inkling of what I’m here to investigate. Please, trust me, my intent is to make sure no harm comes to anyone. Have a seat. You’ve been through a lot tonight.”
She eyed him askance and moved toward the chair. The pain urged her to sit
, so she complied. If he really came here to help, he needed to know about the murders. An image of Emmie popped in her head, igniting a sudden desire to tell him about the gift—
No, she should keep that bit of information quiet for now. “I’ll tell you this much: there have been at least five deaths and two near deaths in the past few weeks in this area. All dead from being drained of Light.”
An ice blue flame lit Rolf’s eyes. He lowered his head for several minutes, with his hands gripped together before him. The flame she’d seen in his eyes resembled that of a panther stalking its prey. A thrill of fascination coursed through her veins.
“Well?” she prompted after the moment of silence stretched too long for her nerves.
He glanced up and his broad shoulders slumped. “This is the worst possible news. It confirms my own fears.”
“So, our suspicions are true? Someone or something is sucking the Light and life from people?” Her voice trembled as terror swept over her.
“Yes, of course, and it’s happened many times in the past. You could do it if you desired. It’s just a reverse of the flow. The difference is, you would never dream of such an act. However, there are some who come to crave this deprivation.”
“Crave? You must be kidding.” Guilt crashed through her mind as she remembered the night she’d almost drained the life from her old lover, Chris. But there had been no joy in such a horrible mistake—and certainly no desire to repeat it.
“The Takers absorb Light but also inflict pain on an individual. Then they take in the Light, thrilling in the pain and agony soaked into the energy—a bizarre form of sadomasochism as addictive as heroin. It starts slowly, like any addiction. A dealer takes some tainted Light then craves it more and more until they are completely turned to evil and live only for the powerful sensation.”
Her stomach rolled at this hideous thought. It confirmed what had been happening with the dead bodies and tortured individuals who’d shown up in the ER. This is madness. Dealers stealing pained Light. It couldn’t be true.
“I see from your eyes you have some knowledge of this.” Rolf’s voice lowered.
Cara gripped her hands together and sagged in the chair. She shivered despite the warmth from the fire beside her. Once, she’d taken Light by mistake, but there had been no pain involved. No enjoyment. How frightening. “You call them Takers?”
“Yes, there are Givers and Takers. You’re a Giver, they are Takers. How many like you are in this city?” Rolf asked, eyes narrowed.
“Why?” She studied him.
“I’m intrigued, as I said. It’s rare for people to realize the extent of this talent. It’s a pleasure to find like souls.”
“But, from what you’ve said, you seem to be different.”
“True, I am different. I’ve existed for thousands of years. There are other ancient ones like me scattered about. But I’ve made it my business through the centuries to act as guardian of this gift. Others don’t care so much if our kind causes harm or not. They focus on amassing great wealth and power.”
Thousands of years! She shuddered. He was ancient and yet they were both Dealers. What were the differences between them?
“Are you cold?” He rose and went to a gilded sofa against the wall to gather an elaborately embroidered throw. He returned to her side and draped it about her shoulders. “It’s likely you’re in shock.”
His hand brushed her cheek and a rush of electric warmth coursed through her at the touch. She looked at him and he gazed back at her with brows drawn together. He held her gaze for a few seconds then broke contact. He pivoted to stride over to a side table set with several crystal decanters and goblets. He splashed a ruby liquid in one glass then handed it to her, his features back to neutral.
She sniffed and the musty aroma of a burgundy filled her senses.
“It’s wine.” He poured a glass for himself before returning to his seat.
“I’m not in shock.” She swallowed the wine and savored the smooth, rich flavor.
“Oh?”
“I’m a nurse practitioner. I know what shock is. What I have is a bad headache from slamming my head against the wall.” She pressed a hand against the back of her skull, grimacing. “And a big case of disbelief in everything that’s going on. How have you have been alive for thousands of years? That’s impossible.”
He swirled his wine, and took a drink. “Then you may also find it hard to believe I don’t really know.”
She expected more, but he didn’t speak. “You don’t know? Seriously?”
“No, I do not know. I simply continue to live and not die. Over the years, I’ve seen the Takers try again and again to gain power and take over small areas. I made it my mission to defeat them.”
“But you had to come from somewhere.”
“I hardly remember so long ago. But my earliest memories are of the area you now call Egypt.”
“Egypt? Really. I hear blue eyes are very common there.”
One side of his mouth quirked up. “A gift from the gods. I told you I’m different.”
This was impossible to fathom with her head misty from pain. She needed to get away from here and try to make sense of what he’d told her. She glanced at her watch. Eleven o’clock. So late, and she worked tomorrow. Hopefully, her head would not be hurting this bad in the morning. She’d have to wear a scarf, her neck was sure to be bruised. She stood. “Well, thanks a bunch for saving my life. The guy wasn’t able to take any Light from me, but he probably could have beaten and killed me the old-fashioned way. So…thanks again.”
He set his glass on the table beside him with a clink and some of the ruby liquid splashed over the rim. “What did you say? He was not able to take any Light?”
“Yes, he tried. It was kind of funny.” She chuckled, but pain seared through her head so she stopped. “You should have seen the look on his face when it didn’t work and your fist came out of nowhere. Pow!” A tingle of satisfaction accompanied that memory.
Rolf put a hand over his mouth. After a couple seconds, he dropped it and stood to pace across the rug in front of the fireplace.
“What’s wrong?” Her knees trembled.
“Your description, while vastly entertaining, is also intriguing.”
“Why?”
“He should have been able to take your Light the same as anyone else.”
“Even though I’m a Dealer?”
“Takers develop powerful methods for taking the Light, even from Dealers. It is strange he couldn’t take yours.”
Cara didn’t know what to say. She rubbed her temples with her fingertips. “Yes, it is very strange. But I have to go. I need to be at work in the morning at eight, and I’m exhausted.” She turned around, looking for her pocketbook. “Oh no, and my car.”
“Don’t worry about your car. I drove it when I brought you here.” Rolf walked up to within a foot of her and she stepped back from his domineering height. He searched her eyes. “Your purse is still in it.”
“Thanks, that’s really swell of you. I don’t know what I would have done if you hadn’t shown up when you did. Just like the cavalry. Can you talk to my friends? Maybe we can help you. Or you can help us or—something—” Her head spun. Maybe I am in shock.
Rolf grasped her shoulders to steady her. “Cara, you can’t go home tonight.”
Just like that. No: “I don’t think you should” or “Maybe you shouldn’t.” Flat out: “You can’t go home.”
“I have to go home. I’m fine. Excellent. Super, in fact. I have Dusty to take care of, and—and…” God, if she could just sit down and think maybe she would make sense.
“If you go home, you will likely not live to see the morning.”
Chapter Eleven
Cara stared at Rolf, unable to speak past the sudden constriction in her throat. Her vision blurred and cleared several times. The room closed in around her as her knees shook. If only her head would stop pounding so she could think.
Placing a hand under
her elbow, he led her to the chaise—lucky, because her knees gave out about then. She plopped onto the soft cushion with a small “Oof.” He sat beside her, still holding her elbow, concern wrinkling his brow.
“Wh—what do you mean I won’t live to see the morning?”
“The Takers know you saw one of them. They will discover who you are and eliminate you.”
“Why would they be so determined to find me? I can’t stop them by myself and no one would believe my story if I went to the police.”
“Whatever it is they hope to accomplish in this area will only be possible if people are unaware of their methods. If anyone threatens that, they will be eliminated. Period. Trust me. I’ve seen it happen time and time again.” He rose, strode to the door and leaned out. “Sean, can you come here?”
A muscular young man in black pants and white shirt entered. “Yes, sir?”
“I need some food for our canine friend here. Can you find bowls for water and food and bring them in? We’re having overnight guests.” Rolf motioned to her and Dusty.
Sean nodded. “Will you be eating in the dining room this evening, Sir?”
“No, set up a table by the fire, and bring some aspirin for Cara.” He strolled back to her after Sean left. “You’ll stay here tonight. I can protect you.”
“What about tomorrow? I have to go to work. People depend on me. I save lives.” She stood, finding the strength had returned to her limbs after the initial shock of his words retreated. “In a couple days can I go back home?”
He moved up close to her so fast she gasped. “Do you think I’m joking about this?” He spoke in a low voice but it resonated with power, and his gaze bore into hers like icy steel. “I’m deadly serious, and you need to be, too. Otherwise, your life will be over all too soon.”
His fingers clamped around her upper arm, the fingertips biting into her skin hard enough to send a flash of fear through her, but she was determined not to let him see it. Her breath came in short bursts. Dusty let out a short bark. She met Rolf’s glare and a flush of anger surged through her. She punched him in the chest with her free hand. “Let go.”
