Touch of Evil

by C. T. Adams

  “You’re not calling about the attempted hijacking? Then why were you calling?”

  “Hijacking! Jeez Louise! Are you okay?” I glanced over at Tom to see him smirking at my catch phrase. I realized he’d never heard it from me.

  “Yeah, yeah. I’m fine. The air marshal took the guy down in about ten seconds. He didn’t seem to be going for the cockpit, though. He pulled a ceramic knife and put it at my throat. I don’t know what he thought he was trying to do. But the other passengers jumped the guy and then the air marshal handcuffed him. Boy, some guys can be so stupid! But, I guess that’s another thing they’ll add to the list of hand searches. Those things don’t show up on the detector. But why were you calling, if you didn’t know?”

  I hesitated for a heartbeat, wondering whether to tell her. Was it just a stupid wanna-be terrorist, or had Monica attempted to threaten her? I just didn’t know. When I didn’t answer for a moment, her voice lowered an octave and dragged out in warning. “Kaate? Ahem! Talk to me, girl. What should I know?”

  I sighed and looked at Tom for advice. He just shrugged his shoulders and squeezed my hand.

  I closed my eyes and took a deep breath, letting it out slow into the receiver so she would know I was still on the line. When I started to talk, it came out in a steady stream of words on a single breath. God, it felt so good to tell someone who understood. “It’s Monica, Peg. She’s almost at the end of her life and wants . . . well, she wants me to be the next queen. Of course, I told her where to go and how to get there. But she’s started to threaten people I know to get me to cooperate. She tried to kidnap Bryan yesterday, and almost succeeded. She specifically mentioned your name and one of the guys I know in Tel Aviv. Are you certain it was just some whacked out guy? Could he have been a Thrall Host?”

  The next long pause was hers. “A Host? You think a Host was trying to grab me? Okay, like, eeww! So, let me get this straight. The whacked out vampire lady who bit you wants you to be her successor and is grabbing family and friends of yours? God, Kate! You need to, like, move or something! Go live on some deserted beach in the Philippines.” I could hear her shake her head as the hair brushed the phone. “No, never mind. You’d find trouble there, too.”

  I didn’t really disagree, so I didn’t comment. But Tom smiled the tiniest bit.

  She sighed and it spoke volumes. It was the same sigh I wish I could use, but I was the one being sighed about. “No, I don’t know it wasn’t a Thrall Host. I suppose I should notify the Gendarmerie. I’m in Paris, by the way, until they clear us to take off again. I don’t know what they can do about it, but they’re looking at it from a terrorist angle, instead of the concept that the guy might actually have been after me.” Her breath flowed out again in another burst, this time the sound of martyred patience. “Well, you are an interesting person to be friends with, Kate. Are you okay? How are Joe and Bryan? Anything at all good going on in your life? Cute guys, shopping, shoes—anything? Or just big baddies around every corner?”

  I looked over at Tom, whose face was completely neutral. “As the song goes, ‘I get by with a little help from my friends.’ Joe and Bryan are okay, and, urn, I’m . . . okay.” I didn’t want to get into gossipy stuff with the stuff of the gossip sitting on the couch with me.

  “Well, okay then. I’ll let you know if I find out anything. Maybe there’s a Not Prey on the police here who can question the guy. What’s the bitch—I mean, what’s the queen’s name again?”

  I had to smile and chuckle. “Monica. Queen Monica. Thanks, Peg. And please watch your back for a few days until this is over.”

  “Oh, hey! That is so not an issue anymore. I will be sticking to my pilots like glue until further notice. Thanks for the warning, Kate. Really.” Her voice softened into warm, soft fluff. “I wouldn’t be much of a hostage if you didn’t care enough to be worried. I’m flattered. So take care of yourself, so I don’t have to worry.”

  We hung up before I started to cry. Tom didn’t say a word. He just reached in his pocket and pulled out a real cloth handkerchief. I hadn’t seen one of those in ages. There was even a monogrammed ‘B’ on the corner.

  I didn’t need it yet, but it was still early in the day.

  I couldn’t reach anyone in Tel Aviv, which could be no big deal or could be bad. I left a vague message, asking someone to call me back. I was just there, so they might out of curiosity. I did reach Joe at the church. He sounded relieved, but his voice held that dark edge of fear when you know that the boat is about to sink, or the tornado is on the horizon. There was nothing to say to each other, other than offer love, hope and prayer.

  By the time I stood to put the phone back, it was oh-dark-thirty. I glanced at Tom, who was still holding my hand like a crush in junior high.

  The battles were fought, and there were only hours and hours of unknown until dawn. Somehow I knew tomorrow was it. Damn that psychic sense. I would end up alive and human, dead and human or something not quite either one. Everything was fuzzy. I’d just have to wait and see.

  So there I stood in my own living room, holding the hand of an amazingly gorgeous man. He was looking at me very seriously, and had just recently made my body feel all sorts of fun things. To top it off, he was going to have to touch me all night or the bad things would get me. Even worse, I actually felt safe for the first time in a very long while.

  What in the hell had I gotten myself into?

  17

  “So,” I said nervously, and realized my hand had started to sweat a bit. “What do we do now? Cards? Backgammon? I have comedy videos.”

  “I’m personally up for bed.” He probably noticed when I flinched enough to have swatted a fly. He chuckled a bit and smiled. I noticed that his eyes were looking tired. “Sleep, Kate. I mean we both need to get some sleep. But we should probably be in the same location, whether the bed or the couch, or sleeping bags on the floor. I didn’t do so hot at extending my power when you walked to the phone. I can try again if you want—”

  I waved my free hand. I shouldn’t be such a nervous nelly. He was a nice guy. He’d been honorable and sweet, and I was just being paranoid for no reason. “No. It’s fine. We’ll use the bed. But I would like to get changed in private if that’s okay.”

  He thought about it for a moment. “That’s dangerous, but maybe we can work it out. How about if you change in the bathroom upstairs and I just strip down to my jeans right on the other side of the door? I should be able to stay awake most of the night, but in case I fall asleep, there’s a wider mass of skin to draw energy from to cover you. Would that be okay?”

  Oh, and what a mass of skin it was. I coughed to cover up my drooling. “Okay, yeah. That should work.”

  And it did. I could hear the hive in the background, and Monica pounded on the door of my mind. But my own shielding, combined with Tom’s, was enough.

  When I had dressed, washed my face, combed out my braid, brushed my teeth and popped the last pill like a somewhat-below-average good girl, I caught my reflection in the mirror. I actually looked pretty good, although I couldn’t believe I grabbed the nightshirt I did out of the closet. I don’t know what possessed me. It’s perfectly decent, mind you. Cream colored satin that goes to my knees, with cap sleeves and a short v-neck. Nothing sexy at all, except no bra. I can’t stand to wear a bra to bed. It itches and twists. I was wearing undies, though. Never mind that I normally wear oversized junky T-shirt with pithy sayings, and had never actually put on this gown since Peg gave it to me for Christmas two years ago.

  Yeah, yeah. I know. But none of the T-shirts looked, well, nice enough.

  The look I got when I stepped out of the bath made me realize that perhaps the gown wasn’t quite as decent as I’d thought. I glanced down. No, nothing revealed or even hinted at much. But Tom’s eyes took on a bottomless weight that made my stomach lurch and my knees weak.

  He didn’t say anything. He just held out his hand. I took it, feeling very much like a bride on my wedding night, and I couldn’
t figure out why. Maybe it was because I don’t do casual sex, and the look on his face was anything but casual.

  He gave me first shot at which side. I picked my normal one, on the right. I stretched out while he walked around the bed, throwing a wave of raw power in his wake. I was starting to be able to actually feel the rush of white noise in my head. It had been so very long since my head had been quiet. Maybe I actually could sleep tonight and not dream.

  My stomach jerked again as Tom crawled onto the other side of the king-sized bed. There was a rolling, sensuous quality to his movements—the animal inside him. There was nothing heated about the movements, only the fact that he was him. It was the sheer naturalness of him that made him so incredibly sexy.

  He took my hand again and picked it up. He pressed it to his lips with his eyes closed. “Get some sleep, Kate. I’ll stay awake as long as I can. I’m a light sleeper from working at the station, so if anything happens, I’ll wake up.”

  I took his word for it, and rolled onto my side, facing him, while he picked up a book from the night stand. Since I hadn’t been reading lately, he must have taken it from the shelves near the bathroom while I was dressing.

  So he could read comfortably, I switched hand holding to putting my hand on his arm and closed my eyes.

  I only remember one dream, and it was a happy one. I was a child again, playing in the grass behind our house with Fred Basset. Yeah, yeah. I know. But Fred was the best dog a girl could have. He was cute in that floppy, sad-eyed sort of way, and loved to play ball. We had just played a romping game of ball and then I rolled down the hill of dandelions, while Fred chased me. He pounced on me and I hugged him, just reveling in the joy of life. I felt the warmth of his body and his slow, even breathing that raised my arm up—

  Too high. My arm was raising too high for floppy little Fred. My eyes opened just a hair, while still in that dreamy contented state. I found myself nearly on top of Tom’s warm, naked torso. My head was resting on his chest, and one leg was wrapped around his thigh. His hand was on my head, stroking my hair absently while he read the last few pages of the novel. He’d rested the edge of the book on my shoulder and was turning pages with a finger.

  I flicked my eyes to the night stand. It was already two o’clock in the morning. I didn’t move a muscle. I just tried to figure out how to extricate myself without it being obvious and insulting.

  He finished the last page and closed the book. He reached over with one arm and placed it carefully on the night stand and then looked down at my head. I could just see him out of the corner of one eye, because my hair was cascading over his chest and covering my face.

  “What is it about you, Kate Reilly, that I find so utterly irresistible?” His words were soft, not even quite a whisper, and they made my heart skip a beat. He kept stroking my hair, which felt amazingly nice. He carefully lifted my arm away from his chest so he could lay down, which was my cue to awaken.

  “Tom?” I asked sleepily, and he froze. “What time is it?”

  “Almost two o’clock. Everything’s fine. Go back to sleep.” I rolled off of him and looked into his face with half-closed eyes that really were still a bit asleep. He seemed disappointed about me moving.

  I yawned, and took the bull by the horns. “I’m sorry I got all wrapped around you. I’ll roll over so I don’t bother you.”

  He leaned over me before I could move. His eyes were warm, but heat was growing deep inside. “Why in the world would you be sorry? I can’t think of anything better than to have your warm—”

  He placed one hand on my waist. “Soft—”

  His face moved closer to me while my heart and stomach both fluttered at different speeds.

  “Luscious—” His other hand reached up to stroke slowly down the side of my face while a delicious shiver rolled down my spine.

  “Body wrapped around me. In fact, I think I’d like to do it again.” Tom brought his lips against mine lightly. A violent shudder passed through me and he felt it. He gave up any pretense and leaned into me. He kissed me deep and long, opening my mouth with his, while his hand explored the length of my satin-clad body and he slid down until he was lying beside me. He ended the kiss slowly, with a final tug on my lower lip with his teeth. His smile was full of promise and made my heart flutter.

  “But let’s make sure you don’t get hurt any worse. You might not feel the pain, but you’re still injured.” He rolled me over until I was on top of him. Gravity dropped my knees to the bed and I was straddling him. It felt good.

  I couldn’t deny it anymore. I wanted this. I wanted him. I reached over to turn out the lamp.

  His hand stopped me. “What are you doing?”

  I started to reach again. “Turning out the light. I’m pretty sure we’re going to . . . well, you know. Right?”

  “Oh, we’re going to. But the light stays on.”

  I suddenly felt panicked, but couldn’t figure out why. I found myself reaching for the lamp switch again, only to have him pull back my arm.

  He smiled at me, a teasing grin. “You’ve never done this before, have you?”

  I didn’t know what he meant. “I’m not a virgin, Tom.”

  He shook his head. “That’s not what I meant. You’ve never made love with the lights on before, have you?” He used his free hand to slide down the satin to cup my breast and squeeze it, making it so I couldn’t speak. My nipples were just suddenly hard and visible through the fabric. “You’ve never watched a man make your body react. Never watched the reflection of your own climax in his eyes. Hmm?”

  My mouth was suddenly dry. He was right. Sex was, well, it was for the dark. It wasn’t a daylight activity. Or, at least, it hadn’t been for Mike or for Dylan, and they were my only experiences. They were both like me—close the doors, shut out the lights, and grope.

  “I . . . um, isn’t your pack a matriarchal society? Aren’t I supposed to be in charge?” The best defense is a good offense.

  His look was still teasing, but there was an underlying seriousness I didn’t understand. He nodded and the transformation to serious was complete, even though his hand remained firmly on my breast. “Yes. You are supposed to be in charge, Kate. You’re supposed to be the leader. Unfortunately, you haven’t got a clue what that means.”

  I felt cool air on my tongue, which told me my jaw had dropped. “I know what it means, Tom.”

  He shook his head and thrust his hips upward, making me gasp. “No you don’t, Kate. You wear your Not Prey status like a shield, or some sort of invisibility cloak. You leap into battle without consulting anyone, or even thinking about the consequences. That’s not leading. That’s just plain pigheadedness and foolhardy to boot.”

  His hand released my wrist and slid in between my legs. I nearly lost my balance as his finger rubbed me through the cotton. I didn’t like what he was saying, but oh man—how he was saying it!

  “You need to know the talents of the people around you, and utilize them to your advantage.” He thrust upward with his hips again, while both hands were moving simultaneously on very sensitive spots.

  I couldn’t seem to catch my breath as I replied. “I do utilize people’s talents. But usually I’m better at them than they are.”

  He raised his brows and removed both of his hands. He steepled his fingers just under his lip. “Yeah? So prove it. Teach me how to use my talents to please you. Do yourself up proud while I watch and learn.”

  I blushed to the roots of my hair. Surely he didn’t expect me to—“That’s not what I meant, Tom.”

  His eyes were serious, but his hands moved to my thighs. “But don’t you see, Kate? That’s what being in charge is. You don’t know what other people are capable of, because you don’t know what you’re capable of. You keep throwing yourself into the void, hoping against hope that you’ll pull out a miracle at the last second.” He slid his hands up the gown and repeatedly flicked both nipples through the satin until they were hard as pebbles and I was groaning weakly.
>
  “But you’re not going to change your entire mindset tonight. So, I’m in charge until you learn how.” Then he sat up and put his open mouth on one breast while that hand dropped to my panties again. He licked and sucked through the fabric until I could barely think, while his hand teased the skin on the edges of the elastic between my legs.

  “Tom, I . . . Oh, God!” I shouted as he suddenly inserted one finger inside me and moved his face up to kiss me deeply. All I could think to do was hold onto his forearms so I didn’t fall over while his hips rocked me up and down on his finger and his thumb toyed with my nub.

  The next thing I knew he had leaned back and removed his hands from me. With blazing heat in his gaze, he lifted the nightshirt up, exposing my breasts. “While I really like the slick-wrapping, I want your skin against mine—now. Arms up.”

  I obeyed and he pulled the gown off of me. Before I could bring my arms back down, Tom had wrapped his arms around my back and was alternately nipping and sucking both of my breasts, licking along the permanent tan lines from long-forgotten, bikini-clad summers on the beach. His hips pressed against me urgently.

  I ran my fingers through his hair and made noises I didn’t know I could make. He leaned back just enough to ask, “Do you really like these panties?”

  I shook my head, not trusting myself to speak. I had a sneaking suspicion what he meant, and the thought excited me more deeply than I’d expected. His mouth found mine and his tongue explored my teeth and gums as I felt his hands snake down my body to the tiny little spaghetti strap bikini bottoms I wore. Part of me knew, or hoped, this might happen. The slim piece of fabric was no match for his strength and I heard each of the straps rip in turn. He leaned back far enough to slowly, ever so slowly, pull the cloth from under me. I was completely naked over him and wanted him that way too.

  I scooted up his body just a bit so he could pull his pants and briefs down and kick them off. I explored his chest and his nipples while he did, and it made him smile darkly.