by Jaycee Clark
“Can’t imagine where that came from.”
She shoved his arm out from under him. “But I’ve a feeling my paintings, which are more therapy, are not works of art that will appeal to most.”
“But they might.” He shrugged. “Don’t close off your options.”
She thought about that. About the fact that her father gave her the privacy and space she needed when she wanted to paint, but also liked to see her work. Whether it was the act of a concerned parent, or the pride thing, she wasn’t sure. Probably both. But he never invaded her work. He always waited until she asked for his opinion. The man did run a gallery. The last conversation brought a smile to her face.
“Yeah, well, Dad wants me to think about doing a showing. If and when I’m ready.”
He nodded. “That’s great.”
“Maybe. Or maybe it’s because he missed having any of my drawings and artwork to put on a fridge.”
“And his gallery is like a giant magnet board to proudly display his daughter’s work.”
“Could be.”
“Please, don’t be stupid.” Mark leaned closer. “Your father doesn’t have the time or the patience for pity showings.”
True. So maybe she would think about it.
“There are worse things than being an artist, Alyssa.”
She nodded. “True, I just don’t like that starving part. So I want a profession that will bring me the things I need.”
“Like food and shelter.”
“Exactly.” She laughed.
For a minute they just stared at each other. Then he said, “You’re really pretty, you know that?”
She blinked. Mark thought she was pretty? She blinked again wondering if she was hallucinating.
He coughed. “I mean…”
Alyssa glanced up as someone stopped at their table. Thad. And he was glaring at his brother. Great. He slapped his hand on Mark’s shoulder. “Little bro. Give it up. She’s taken. Plus, you don’t seem to really have the knack.”
Mark didn’t even look at his brother—his eyes stayed on Alyssa.
Thad’s over-possessiveness lately really grated on her. One thing she had learned and totally agreed with was that she needed to be her own person, set her own boundaries, learn her own self-worth before venturing forth to give it to anyone else, if she so chose.
Which she currently did not.
And certainly not with Thad.
“Thad,” she said, propping her chin on her fist, “what makes you think I’m taken?”
Thad leaned over the table between her and Mark. “’Cause I know you, babe.”
She didn’t answer. Instead she only looked at him until he finally blinked and looked away.
“First off,” she started, “I’m not taken, and if I were, it wouldn’t be with the likes of you.”
“Ohhhh.” Mark laughed. “Crash and burn. What was that you were saying, bro?”
“Shut up,” Thad said, straightening. He tried to grin at her, but instead of charming, she found it annoying. Annoying and irritating.
“You know, Thad, you should try to charm the ladies somewhere else. I’m working and was trying to have a conversation here.”
“About what?” He picked up the brochures. “School? Cool. You’re going to Dallas?” His blue gaze swung back to her. “Sweets, we could have all sorts of fun in the big D.”
She shook her head. “Thad. There’s no we and that’s an online school.”
“But it doesn’t have to be.”
“But it is.” She finally just punched his shoulder. “Quit being such an ass, Thad. It’s beneath you. And it’s making your aura shift into an ugly color.”
Mark laughed and Thad finally grinned at her. “Maybe so, but you gotta know which brother is better, don’t you?”
“Nah, I’ve already figured that one out.” She waggled her brows at him. “Besides, you just don’t kiss as well as Mark.”
Why she said that, she had no idea, but she did and there it was. Even if she had absolutely no idea how Mark kissed.
Shock was the first thing she noticed on his face. Clear, unadulterated shock. Poor guy.
Mark stopped laughing.
“When the hell did you kiss her?” Thad asked, whirling on his brother. “I asked you if you liked her and you said no. You said she was all free and clear to choose whomever she wanted.”
And why were they talking about her as if she wasn’t here?
Mark opened his mouth, closed it, then opened it again, his eyes big on her. She took pity on him.
“Mark’s so sweet, he’d never kiss and tell.” She scooted her chair closer to Mark. “Unlike some people I know.”
Thad looked from one to the other. “Is this a joke?”
She paused, took a deep breath and then dropped the shields she’d carefully spent the morning building. Anger waved off of him, hot and pulsing. “Why are you mad?”
He only blinked at her and then sat in the last chair at the small table. “Hell if I know. I’ve asked you out I don’t know how many times for dates. We even went out a few.”
“We occasionally hung out, Thad.” She patted his hand. “We never dated.”
He shrugged. “Maybe I wanted more.”
She remembered and this was really why she’d never let them get closer, another reason she hadn’t wanted anything serious with him. “Yes, I know, and I had fun.” Sighing, she patted his hand. “And you do kiss really well. But you’re not ready for more.”
He rolled his eyes. “My brother lied.”
She smiled. “Maybe. But then again, it doesn’t matter if he wanted me or not, or if you did or not. It’s me. I choose. You. Him. Someone else.”
One blond brow arched. “Yeah, I get that.”
“No woman likes to be a bone between two dogs.”
Mark shifted. “I never—”
She held up her hand. “I know, Mark.”
“You do?”
This time, she laughed as she packed her stuff up. Thad was still sullen as he stared at her. “You sure you don’t want to run off to Dallas with me?”
She shook her head and shoved the books into her bag. “No. I’d probably kill you before we even reached the state line.”
“I doubt that. Why would you do that?” He crossed his hands over his chest. “I’m the epitome of charm, my lady.”
Alyssa just wanted out of here. “Charm and smarm.”
“Ouch.”
The two brothers might look alike, but they were as different as night and day. Once upon a time she would have gone for Thad. Those days were over. Now she found that Mark’s quiet, friendly way was more her style. Maybe. Maybe not.
“I thought you two were just friends,” Thad said.
She huffed and swung her pack on her back. “And what? We can’t be friends with benefits?” She turned and walked away.
Thad’s furious whisper made her smile. “Her father is gonna fucking kill you.”
Yeah, well, she didn’t think that would happen. Maybe, but then again, she was tired of Thad’s crap. Maybe now he’d leave her alone.
One little white lie.
Of course she might have made more trouble for Mark. Glancing back over her shoulder, she noticed the guy had the biggest smile on his face she’d ever seen.
Figured.
Men were idiots.
He watched her on the street, wondering which way she would go. She looked up at her father’s apartments. Probably not going over there any time soon. He too glanced over to see the unlit windows, though he felt like he should be able to see something. To see, to know what was happening there. At least in terms of powers and emotions.
Instead…
He focused on the windows and for just a moment, just a brief moment, saw a swirl of orange and red.
Passion.
From Lake, he was sure.
Taking a deep breath, he turned his attention back to the one he wanted. The one who would boost his life longer than all the others h
ad. Who would, if he was lucky, heal him.
Part of him, some part of him wondered, what if she wasn’t the last one? What if he needed another? Then what would he do?
Already he was weak. He’d have to move fast. The last one had taken him too long to finish. Her essence and life force had charged him, but only for a little while.
The charges were shorter and shorter.
This one had to heal him.
She was so damned powerful.
And he wondered if she knew.
He saw her glance back into the coffee shop, the frown on her face to be replaced by a smile as she shook her head.
He breathed deep, the cold air slicing his lungs, slicing through his clothing. Always fucking cold. He was always cold.
A headache pulsed deep today. He would not have much time.
Tick.
Tick.
Tick.
It had to be now. Had to be.
He knew it.
Closing his eyes, he could swear he smelled her scent dancing with the smell of the snow from the mountains. It would be cold tonight. He glanced up to Taos peak. The snowfall up there was heavier than he thought, all but obscuring the bottom half of the mountains.
The skiers would be happy. The resort even happier. The snow would help. He wondered if it would move into the valley tonight. He hadn’t checked the weather. At least the body he’d dumped would be covered even more. With luck it would be several weeks yet before they found her, and by then the animals would have gotten to her.
The memory of what that young woman had felt like as she died danced through his mind, heating his blood, making him want this one even more.
She paused and looked around as if she sensed him.
He’d have to be more careful. The sickness had weakened more than just his body. He needed to focus.
Didn’t want her to feel him, to find him before he’d even gotten to her.
He had to get to her, to capture her. To have her.
Shielding, he followed not too closely, but close enough. She wasn’t in a hurry. She waved to several people, said hello to others and stopped and chatted with the Dancing Moon shop owner. The store’s eclectic clothing hung from the eaves outside its door and danced in the icy evening breeze.
He watched as the women spoke. He’d always liked the way her hands moved when she talked. She ran her hand through her hair and smiled at the shop owner.
People were drawn to her, even as she tried to remain distant. He’d seen that the first time he’d met her. She was a soul whom others liked, respected and wanted to be around.
There were not many of those in the world. At least not with her gifts and abilities.
She was perfect. She’d always been perfect. He should have taken her first and been done with it, but he thought perhaps he had been wrong. He’d hoped she wasn’t really for him, but the feeling inside, that he needed her, had only grown. He’d tried to shove it aside because he liked Alyssa.
But…
Things changed.
She might be powerful, but she was still so new, so…raw. He grinned. It would have been fun to train her, but he didn’t have that kind of time. And that was hardly what he needed her for. What he needed from her was something that had to be taken, that could not be learned, couldn’t be expanded on.
Once upon a time, he would have let her live.
But not now.
He waited until she moved along with a group of people spilling out of one of the restaurants.
He smiled, knowing where she was going. He checked his watch. It wasn’t six yet. Not quite.
Six was when the bookstore closed. And though she’d been gone all day and the books peeking out of her bag told him she’d bought more somewhere else, he knew she’d go to the familiar. People were so predictable.
Smiling to himself, he slipped away and planned. He knew he’d have to be careful. Her father would raise holy hell and then some.
There was also the woman now. The woman spending time with Alyssa. Powerful enough to teach a novice. And if she’d known what Alyssa was, then she had to be powerful as well.
Maybe, maybe he’d take them both.
The thought had merit.
He just had to get Alyssa first.
Alyssa’s phone rang and she waved to the owner of the Dancing Moon, who was taking down the dresses, and answered it.
“Hello?”
“Um, is this Alyssa? From the gallery?”
She paused, thought about the voice. And his face rose in her mind. Wire-rimmed glasses and intense eyes. “Yes.”
“This is Jonathan Murbanks. You guys will be showcasing my work.” I hope was unsaid, yet she heard it all the same.
She remembered his aura, the way it had shimmered, the edges melding with hers so that for a minute when she met him, she couldn’t think, couldn’t remember what the hell she’d walked into the studio for.
It had been several days ago.
He’d smelled really good. Expensive cologne, not too sweet, nor too spicy, some perfect balance in between. Simple, classic with just a hint of flavor. Like his photos.
“Yes,” she said. “I remember you, Mr. Murbanks.”
“Oh. You do?”
She smiled. “Yeah. I’ve been going over which photos we’re going to display and what size we’re going to print them in.”
It had been hard to get the young artist out of her mind. Then again, he wasn’t that young. He was older than her, but thanks to Dad, she thought of him as that young artist. Or just Murbanks. Dad always said it with a hint of something in his voice.
But she couldn’t help but think of him. She tried not to. The day they’d met and she’d walked into the gallery, either she had stopped or the world had. When she’d walked in and seen him, seen the way his aura had reached out and touched hers, she simply couldn’t not stop. She’d tried to shove it away. After all, she really didn’t have the time for a guy.
Not that he wanted her to have the time—
“…this weekend.” He stopped.
Shit. What had he been saying?
“I’m sorry, Jonathan. I lost you for a minute. What did you say?”
She heard him take a deep breath. “I was wondering if you were busy this weekend. Or tomorrow evening? Or this evening?”
Alyssa laughed, pleasure surging through her. Why, she’d think about later. “Umm.”
“I mean, if you’re busy, I understand. Or if you just don’t want to, I get that too.”
She smiled and continued to walk towards the bookstore. “If I don’t want to what?”
“Oh.” He laughed. “I promise I’m not an idiot, or then again, maybe I am. I just saw you and something…” He sighed. “Anyway, I’d love to take you out. Dinner. Lunch. Coffee. Hell, skiing.”
Skiing, it had been a while since she’d skied, been even longer since she’d boarded. Those days were over.
“I don’t ski anymore,” she confessed. “My knees were damaged.”
“Oh, I’m sorry.”
“So am I. I miss skiing.” She stepped around a couple walking too slow and whispering to each other. “But the resort is still a good place to hang. If you don’t mind a short drive, so’s Red River and Angel Fire. Both are also good places.” And why the hell was she rambling?
She glanced over her shoulder at the couple and smiled. Maybe there was such a thing as love. Or at least the hope of it. Her dad seemed happy lately. Tense, but happy. And Lake smiled more. She assumed love, that elusive thing was out there.
Just because her mom had been too difficult to live with did not mean that there wasn’t love out there. Not that she wanted love, but it was nice to know it was there…if she wanted it.
She realized he hadn’t said anything. Great, rambling girl scares off interested and interesting artist.
“Hello?” she asked.
For a minute he didn’t say anything. “Coffee would be good.”
“Great. When?”
Earnest and eager. She was tired, yet happy.
“Tonight?” he pressed.
She smiled to herself.
“Are you smiling?” he asked.
She stopped and looked around, wondering how he knew. “I am.”
And then again, she was certifiable. A slew of pysch docs had told her so. “Maybe,” she said.
“You are. I know.”
“You know?” She started towards the bookstore again, shaking off the uneasiness. “How do you know?”
He sighed. “Would it freak you out if I said sometimes I just know things, or rather feel them?”
“Maybe.”
“From the girl who said my aura was interesting?”
She chuckled. “Touché.” She stepped off the curb and crossed the street, heading between the two buildings and the alley. “So you’re an empath?”
“And if I were?”
“I’d ask how much of one you are.” She focused on his voice and tried to read him, tried to feel him. Within a blink, she simply did. Holy shit. She could feel his desire, his happiness and … “Never mind.”
“You do anything other than auras?” he asked.
She could only laugh. “Maybe we should save something for our…coffee?”
“How about dinner too?”
“Let’s see how coffee goes.”
“In an hour?” he asked.
She checked her watch and saw she only had about ten minutes before the shop closed. That should give her enough time to check Yancey’s books before going home to clean up. Or enough time to call home first to warn Dad she was coming home to clean up. She’d just leave out the part that she was seeing Murbanks.
“Works for me.”
“See you then.”
“Yeah, see you.”
When she cut the call off, she shielded up again. He could read her, over the phone? Was he that good or was it just that they connected? She’d have to ask Lake.
Holy crap, she had a date.
A d-a-t-e. Or would that be D-A-T-E? Not that she’d never had one. No matter what she’d said to Thad, she knew they had gone on dates, little nothings. But they had never felt like this. She was freaking. She’d always wondered what people meant when they talked about butterflies in the stomach. She’d been nervous before recitals, or plays in school, but never really with a guy. Never like this. Butterflies? Felt more like a group of small birds was bouncing around in her stomach.
