Mystical Love

by Rachel James

  Unable to stop herself, and uncaring whether she initiated a vision from the pressure of his lips on hers, she threw her arms around Logan’s neck and parted her lips. His tongue slid into her mouth, sending new shock waves coursing through the pit of her stomach. To her delight, she remained rooted to reality, enjoying the kiss immensely and molding her body to Logan’s. The kiss soon became surprisingly gentle, and her body quivered at the sweet tenderness of it. All too quickly, his mouth lifted, hovering inches from hers.

  “How’s that for grounding?” he asked.

  Stunned, Sonny opened her eyes and met his stare. He winked broadly at her, and to her surprise, her eyes suddenly misted with tears. The kiss had only been a ploy to short-circuit the vision and realign her brainwaves. It had been a means to an end, and it had worked thoroughly. The thought left her sadly disappointed, and her heart dropped like a lead balloon. And then Logan surprised her by raining a series of light kisses on her face. The first skimmed the tip of her nose, the second caressed her right cheek, and the last ended in a sensual nibbling of her right earlobe.

  “Sonia Madeline Blake! What is the meaning of this?”

  The couple sprang apart, her aunt’s disapproving voice breaking the romantic moment. Sonny lifted her head, scrutinizing Logan’s wry grin.

  “Now see what you’ve done,” she declared. She glanced around Logan’s shoulder and faced her aunt’s frigid expression with a bright smile. “Hello, Aunt Charlotte. Is my thirty minutes up?”

  Annoyed, her aunt whirled on her toes. “We’ve been waiting an hour for you,” she threw over her shoulder, disappearing back into the living room.

  “She’s furious, and it’s your fault.”

  “You needed grounding; I obliged.”

  “And what next? You’ll pour water over my head and plant me like a flower?”

  “Don’t tempt me.”

  Her aunt’s blistering tone shattered the air. “We are waiting, Sonny.”

  Sonny’s hackles rose immediately, and she followed the voice. “For heaven’s sake, Aunt Charlotte, if the press release is done, it calls for no further discussion.”

  As if suddenly hit by a bolt of lightning, her aunt sprang from her chair. Sonny could see her barely contained fury; however, Logan forestalled her venom by stepping forward.

  “I assure you that I meant no disrespect by kissing Sonny. I was attempting to divert her from falling into one of her damn visions. Kissing her seemed better than dealing with her nosebleeds.”

  “You kissed Sonny?” Brad Fletcher bolted from his chair, and seeing the fire behind his eyes, Sonny stepped in front of Logan.

  “Yes, he did, and I enjoyed every second of it,” she stated.

  Flabbergasted, her aunt sank back down into her chair, while her uncle came to a screeching halt in the middle of the room.

  “Are you insane?” he demanded. “You met the man only an hour ago.”

  Sonny’s posture changed rapidly. “Don’t you dare lecture me as if I were still sixteen years old, Uncle Brad. I’ll kiss whomever I please, whenever I please, and that’s the end of this discussion. Now, where is the press statement we’re releasing?”

  No one answered the question, and Sonny realized she had stunned them with her attack. But at what cost? her inner voice asked. An answer came a moment later. The loss of our life?

  CHAPTER TEN

  “That could’ve gone better,” the lieutenant said a few moments later.

  Logan eyed the group gathering around the table. “Her temper certainly matches her hair,” he remarked.

  “With good reason. Her aunt smothers her, her uncle patronizes her, and as for her father, he idolized her while secretly wishing her talent would go away.”

  “And Ned?”

  “Smoke and mirrors. The guests either love him or hate him.”

  “Any baggage?” Logan asked.

  “None that I can find. Outside of parking tickets, he’s a model citizen.”

  Logan reached into his jacket pocket and removed a business card. He handed it to the lieutenant. “Call this number and ask for Monica. Give her Ned’s name and tell her I said she should go where no man has gone before.”

  The lieutenant studied the card. “Is it ethical for you to intervene like this?”

  “I’m offering a suggestion, nothing more. You do want to solve David’s murder, don’t you? This might help.”

  The lieutenant’s glance narrowed. “I see now why you’re such a legend in Meta Corps. You manipulate a case where you want it to go—without getting any blood on your hands, I might add.”

  “They’re bloody—”

  “Don’t start with me, Ned,” Sonny said, springing from her chair. “I said no.”

  The men twisted their heads, startled by Sonny’s angry tone.

  “I’m not starting anything,” Ned declared, “I don’t understand why you refuse to speak with the press on behalf of the retreat.”

  “It’s not my place. I don’t own the retreat.”

  “You’re its star attraction, though.”

  “What? So now The Sanctuary is a zoo, and I’m its trained monkey?”

  “Don’t twist my words. You are the most qualified to speak on your father’s behalf.”

  “I won’t do it,” Sonny exclaimed. “You’re asking too much of me.”

  “Why do you always have to be such a contrary bitch?” Ned railed.

  “Why do you always insinuate that I owe the retreat an undying loyalty?”

  “Because you do,” Ned responded. “The Sanctuary has made you a very rich woman over the years.”

  “I earned that money on my own—without Sanctuary backing. And if you don’t believe me, I’ll take my gloves off and prove it to you.” She began pulling her right glove off, and Logan moved from the window. Sonny’s temper had gotten the better of her. He needed to power it down.

  Seeing him come, Ned waved him back. “Stay where you are, Agent Reed. Sonny doesn’t need your protection.”

  “Then change your tone,” Logan said, reaching Sonny. He took one look at her angry stare and grabbed her chin with his hand. “Put your glove back on. An empath should always pick their battles. This is not the right one. There’s too much testosterone flying around.”

  She studied his face, and he saw the fire go out of her eyes. His grin surfaced.

  “Do you need another grounding?” he teased.

  She laughed, the fire completely extinguished. “I’m good for now. Maybe later.”

  Logan chucked her nose. “I look forward to it. Now, apologize to Ned for being a bitch.”

  She made a face at him but turned towards Ned. “You win. I’ll do it.”

  The tension in the room evaporated, as if sucked through a black hole and out the other side. Sonny returned to the table and took a seat. A second later, a hand descended on Logan’s shoulder.

  “When I’m right, I’m right,” the lieutenant said. “You’re a master manipulator. You shifted that argument exactly where you wanted it to go.”

  “Quit it, Lieutenant. You’re making me blush,” Logan said.

  The lieutenant chuckled, smacking the business card against his pant leg. “I’ll go make that call—unless you need me to stay and keep you from kissing Sonny again.”

  “I make no promises since she enjoyed the kiss thoroughly,” Logan remarked.

  “Tread lightly, my friend. Sonny has the ability to look into a person’s soul and decimate it if she doesn’t like what she finds there.”

  The lieutenant strode off, leaving Logan to ponder his words. Would Sonny exact payback for the kiss? No way. She had been tempted to return the kiss. He had felt it in the subtle shift of her body weight against his. And then he had powered down the kiss, just as surprised as her when he didn’t end it outright. He had caressed her lips with feather-light touch, letting the soft union of their mouths communicate an unexpected, radiating pleasure between their bodies. And then her aunt had ruined the moment.


  Feeling eyes boring into his back, Logan knew it would take an intelligent handling of the group to earn their trust. The family was tight-knit, and they didn’t welcome strangers into the fold easily. He replayed the last few minutes in his mind. How did one proceed after defusing Sonny’s anger? The matter was taken out of his hands by Brad Fletcher.

  “That was a nifty piece of work,” he said, crossing the room. “Sonny doesn’t take kindly to being bossed around.”

  Logan whirled about. “I sensed she didn’t really want to make a scene.”

  “No, I didn’t,” Sonny said, joining the men. She rubbed her forehead vigorously. “Daddy’s death has put me in a tailspin. My thoughts are disjointed, and I can’t concentrate. It’s as if I am being warned. I’m struggling to sift through the emotions and get out of the whirlpool.”

  The room went quiet, and Logan saw the swift change in postures. Noting her faint smile, Logan realized that, in meeting Sonny Blake, he had met a new breed of woman—an elegant wench with class and brains. She was the first mouse he knew with that intriguing combination, and he didn’t know why, but the knowledge upset him. Before he knew it, Sonny was surprising him even more.

  “You said before that Daddy’s death was personal. My inability to locate any smudges of his energy proves that point.”

  “Perhaps you should let your uncle take you through a session,” her aunt offered. “You’ve been conducting so many classes, your energy has run dry. You need an overhaul. Your uncle can put you under and realign your chakras in less than an hour. He excels at hypnosis, you know.”

  Sonny’s hand clutched her throat, and Logan silently congratulated her on manipulating the conversation exactly where he wanted it to go next. Seeing her ashen face, her uncle stepped forward, grabbed her gloved hand, and led her to a chair.

  “I’d consider it an honor if you’d let me lighten your load, Sonny. You never turn down requests for readings, and your body and mind are now paying for it. I can ease the stress with just a few words.”

  Logan crossed to Sonny’s chair, perching on its wide arm. He slung his hand across its back, as if protecting her. He hid a wry grin at the action. He was acting like a horse’s ass. Sonny didn’t need protection from him, or anyone. With just a touch of her hand, she could fling a bystander into an unwanted vision and leave them there.

  His thoughts flew to his rib cage suddenly. He could still feel the moment his scar had gone painless. It had been a moment of clarity, as if somehow, in transferring the pain from him, Sonny had left some of God’s innate goodness behind in its place. He cringed at the thought. He should’ve been the last person to equate his life with God’s goodness. Not after the secrets he and Sonny were keeping.

  The tantalizing perfume of Sonny’s hair wafted to his nose, and Logan felt Sonny’s shoulders tense up. Her mind was back on her father’s murder, when he wished her mind was on his kiss. Did she realize that since their kiss, her face had radiated an outer and inner glow? And did she know that glow made him want to forget serial killers and Tarot cards, drag her off to the nearest room, and make love to her for the rest of the day and into the night?

  Logan heard the clearing of a throat and glanced up to find Brad rocking on the balls of his feet, waiting for an answer. Back to reality, Reed, his inner voice advised.

  “Well, if you don’t want Brad to ease your stress, go have a massage in the spa,” her aunt finally declared. “Hattie works miracles with her fingers.”

  “The massage will have to wait,” Sonny said. “I’ve got to call a press conference and, of course, alert our overseas partners to Daddy’s death.” She turned to Ned. “I’ll need Daddy’s key card and password to access his computer.”

  Ned looked stymied by her request. “Where’s your key card? he asked.

  “At home in the vault.”

  He pulled down his vest. “Well, go home and get it. I haven’t the foggiest idea where David keeps his cards.”

  Sonny tensed up again. Her gaze switched between her uncle and Ned.

  “You both lied to Dick earlier,” she stated suddenly. “You each had a major row with Daddy—a knock-down, drag-out—I can almost see it.”

  Hearing the insinuation, Ned’s face froze, but her uncle’s didn’t.

  “What do you mean by that?” he demanded. “Do you honestly think one of us used our key cards to enter the bungalow and kill David?”

  “You had an ugly confrontation with him, Uncle Brad.”

  “And I apologized to him,” he replied. “He forgave me.”

  “So you say.”

  Her aunt intervened swiftly. “You also had an argument with him, Sonny.”

  “Which I forgave him for.”

  “What was the argument about?” her uncle interrupted, suddenly all cop.

  Hearing his good-cop, bad-cop tone, Logan stirred. “David called Meta Corps, complaining that Sonny had too much on her plate and requesting the serial killings be assigned to another empath. When they refused, David confronted Sonny.”

  “He demanded I drop the case,” Sonny cut in. “When I refused, reminding him that no one decides my agendas but me, he apologized and dropped the matter. I forgave him.”

  She sent Logan a sideways squint, and he hid a grin. The mouse was maneuvering them into a new set of lies. As if reading his thoughts, she blushed, and then, remembering they were discussing her father’s computer, she returned her attention to the trio.

  “Perhaps it’s not too late for me to touch Daddy’s keyboard and see if there is still a trail of smudged energy.”

  Put off by the thought of mystical powers at work behind the scenes, Logan rose. “Perhaps you should ask the lieutenant’s permission before you start contaminating his crime scene.”

  “A second eye couldn’t hurt.”

  Her uncle balked at the offer immediately. “Dick is more than capable of handling the investigation. No need for you to become involved.”

  “I’ve worked a homicide case before,” Sonny told him.

  “Not one that hits this close to home, you haven’t,” her uncle said. He eyed Logan. “Agent Reed must certainly agree. Amateur sleuths only manage to cloud an investigation.”

  “Your uncle’s right,” Logan said. “The bungalow is still in flux. Aren’t there any other computer terminals you can use?”

  “She could use the mainframe at Serenity,” Ned said. “It’s safest—less chatter.”

  Her aunt jumped on the suggestion. “Ned’s right. But first, you need to go home and recharge your batteries. Consuela can fix you something to eat while you nap. I’ll show Mr. Reed to his suite.”

  Logan grinned immediately. Charlotte Fletcher was relentless. She wanted him out of here.

  “I’m famished too, Mrs. Fletcher,” he said. “This Consuela sounds like she wouldn’t mind feeding an extra mouth while Sonny naps.”

  “Are you always this stubborn?” Charlotte asked.

  Logan ignored the scorn in her voice. “Do cats have nine lives?” he drawled.

  Sonny stirred in her chair. “If we hide Daddy’s death any longer, we’ll take a giant hit in the stock market by morning. And then we’ll be facing headlines on CNBC.”

  “Very well, I see your point,” her aunt said. “We’ve always been brutally honest with our branch managers.” She rose from her chair, her glance bouncing to Logan. “Meta Corps is not to hear of David’s death until I say so. Is that clear? As far as the public is concerned, he had a heart attack.”

  “Nothing will be leaked to the press on Meta Corps’ end.”

  “See that it isn’t, because I promise you, if Blake Industries takes a financial hit due to wild rumors about David, we will file the appropriate charges against the perpetrator.”

  She left the room rapidly, not bothering to offer a formal good-bye to anyone. Watching her disappear, Logan frowned. He had made an enemy of Charlotte Fletcher, and he didn’t know why. She knows a secret you don’t, his inner voice mused. Pandora?

&
nbsp; The mysterious word flitted through his brain like sand through an hourglass. The sooner he and Sonny traced its origin, the sooner he could offer a solution.

  “We need to go,” Sonny said. She stepped over to Ned, intending to hug him. He balked at her approach, waving her back.

  “I’m sweating like a hog. I’ll stain your clothes.”

  Sonny stepped away, but not before Logan saw her give Ned a puzzled look. She turned back to her uncle, giving him the farewell hug instead. In seconds, she had spun and exited the room. Crossing into the foyer, she snatched her briefcase and purse from the side table and stormed out of the cottage.

  Logan’s lips twitched as he followed her outside. The mouse was pissed; he could feel her angry energy radiating out into the ozone and beyond. But who was she pissed at? She rounded the cottage, away from the truck, towards a light gray Kia.

  “You drive,” she said, flinging open the passenger door and sliding along the leather seat. She slammed the door shut, not bothering to ask whether he wanted to drive or not.

  Grinning, Logan circled the front bumper and opened the driver’s door. Sometime during the drive he would have to apologize to Sonny for blindsiding her with the kiss. Of course, he wasn’t going to apologize for the kiss itself. He had enjoyed the taste of her lips too much to make that apology. But he would apologize for the blindside.

  And then what? his inner voice prompted, as he slipped behind the wheel and fired up the engine. He answered his own question. He didn’t know what the hell he was going to do next.

  • • •

  Sonny took a moment to glance at the passing villas. At each marked signpost, Logan turned the car and followed the road signs. She knew she was being rude to him in the most obvious way a woman could be. Outside of barking directions, she was refusing to carry on a conversation with him.