by Anne Hope
With cat-like grace, he bridged the distance between them. The way he moved was an enthralling sight, like watching a panther prowl toward an unsuspecting deer. “So you’re Cassie.” The seductive grin that curled his mouth hit Lia like a punch to the solar plexus. Everything inside her shriveled.
Her violent response made absolutely no sense. She was used to being invisible around her sister. Why, then, did it hurt so damn much this time? She had no claim on Jace Cutler. He belonged to Cassie. Her mind knew that, but her heart felt an unshakable connection to him, ever since the night he’d died in her arms.
“I hear that you and I went out.” He studied Cassie with an interest that was both wary and assessing. No recognition flickered in his penetrating green gaze.
“Yeah. We had one heck of a good time.” Tears suddenly dampened her sister’s mascara-caked lashes. “Damn, I’ve missed you, you stupid ass.” Then she flung herself into his arms.
Jace reeled back, stunned. Over Cassie’s shoulder, his eyes met and held Lia’s. She caught confusion within them, and a hunger she couldn’t begin to comprehend.
Her heart folded with a painful thud she was certain he heard. Determined not to be a third wheel, she edged toward the door. “I’ll leave you two to talk.”
Feeling like she’d just had the daylights kicked out of her, she stumbled out of the room and hastened down the corridor. She’d barely made it to the end of the hall when she got startled by two colliding lunch carts led by a couple of very surly looking orderlies.
“Whoa, take it easy there.” Jace peeled the woman off him, took a few steps back. Something told him being physically close to anyone right now spelled trouble. Cassie’s aura wasn’t nearly as bright as Lia’s, but a primal instinct urged him to take it from her. The dark hole inside him throbbed, begged to be filled, especially now that Lia had left the room.
He wanted to call her back, but it was too late. The muted thud of her rubber soles hitting the tiles receded as she raced down the corridor. Lia was lost to him. Like it or not, he was alone with this stranger and her damaged aura.
“You never seemed to mind my hugs before.” Insecurity poured off Cassie in waves. One look at her and he sensed her darkest thoughts, her deepest fears. Briefly, he pictured her on a balcony ledge, staring at the cold pavement below, contemplating what it would feel like to fly.
He shook the unsettling image from his mind. “I need some time to take all this in. I don’t know you. Hell, I don’t even know myself right now.”
“But you know Lia.”
Resentment was a purplish-green bruise on a person’s soul. It stole the light and made everything ugly. Cassie envied Lia’s grace, confidence and intelligence. He wasn’t sure how he knew that. He just did.
“She’s trying to help me.”
Cassie grabbed a tissue from the box on the nightstand, dabbed at her eyes. The mascara tracks on her face gave her a heroin-chick look. “I know. I’m sorry. I’m not myself this morning. Why does this always happen when I’m around you? Why do I feel like I’m losing my mind?”
The words triggered a response in him, but the feeling was weak, a dull echo of a past that lingered just beyond his reach. “Guess I just have that kind of effect on people.”
Her heavily glossed lips trembled. “I’d like to help, too. Is there anything you need from me?”
He sat on the corner of the bed, crossed his legs at the ankles. “Yeah, why don’t you start by telling me who the hell I am?”
Chapter Six
Two discarded lunch carts lay in the hallway, one overturned. Oatmeal mottled the floor, and thin rivulets of orange juice twined around the orderlies’ feet.
One man gave the other a hard shove. “How many times have I told you to watch where you’re going?”
“You’re the one who rounded the corner like a goddamn NASCAR driver.”
The situation didn’t seem extreme enough to warrant such a passionate reaction. Nonetheless, hatred rearranged their faces and turned their muscles to stone. The first orderly swung at the other. The second ducked, then took a swing himself. Several nurses gathered round to see what all the commotion was about. One of them let out a startled yelp, but nobody tried to break up the fight.
A full-blown wrestling matched ensued, with the men taking turns slamming each other into the wall.
“That’s enough.” Ignoring the very real possibility that she could be the unwitting recipient of a stray punch, Lia approached and attempted to put an end to the childish brawl. “This is a hospital, not a boxing ring.”
The orderlies instantly pulled apart. They turned to look at her, their expressions confused. They tossed uncertain glances at each other, then at the overturned cart.
“Sorry,” one of them said. “Guess I overreacted.”
“Yeah, I did, too. Don’t know what got into me.”
“It’s over now.” Lia’s shoulders slumped with relief. “Just go about your work.”
The men nodded, quickly gathered their carts and disappeared around different corners.
Katie approached her, a wary look on her face. “Everybody’s been acting crazy lately. Must be something in the air. I’m starting to think this place is cursed.”
Lia wasn’t the superstitious type, but Katie’s words raced down her spine on thin legs of ice. “I wouldn’t exactly put it that way.”
“Think about it.” The young nurse bit her lower lip until it turned white. “First that weird flood in Jace Cutler’s room, then Mr. Wilkins passing away, and now this.”
“Mr. Wilkins passed away?”
Katie nodded. “Last night. He went so quietly, no one realized a thing till it was too late. Dr. Reynolds says his heart just stopped. Poor man died in his sleep.” Katie shuddered. “You should’ve seen him, all shriveled up like he’d been dead for days.”
Sadness pressed down on Lia, as it always did when a patient died. Death was an ugly presence that stalked these halls, non-discriminating and persistent. The only consolation was that they saved more people than they lost.
Lia didn’t want to admit it, but perhaps Katie was right. A negative current thrummed in the air, people bared their fists over something as inconsequential as an overturned cart, and dark clouds continued to pool in the distance.
Oregon was a place of endless legends, where ghost stories abounded, haunted dwellings dotted the shorelines and catacombs stretched beneath the cities like hungry snakes. Lia had never put much stock in myths. Accounts of poltergeists, demonic possessions, unhallowed areas where the sky always thundered and the earth quaked were all tall tales, spun by people with too much time on their hands.
Or so she’d believed, until she’d witnessed Jace Cutler’s inexplicable resurrection. Now anything seemed possible.
“I have Jace Cutler scheduled for an MRI at noon,” she told Katie. “I also want to run a complete tox-scan. Did you get that blood sample I asked you to collect?”
Katie stared down at her sensible shoes. “Not yet. Things were kinda hectic around here last night. I’ll do it today.” Her tone brimmed with reluctance and something else—fear.
“Katie, are you all right?” Lia squeezed the nurse’s arm reassuringly.
“I’m fine. Just a little bit down in the dumps these past couple of days. But I’ll get over it. I always do.” The young nurse flashed a smile that trembled at the edges. “I’d better get back to the nurse’s station.” With a heavy-hearted sigh, she plodded down the hall.
Lia tossed a nervous glance back toward Jace’s door, wondering how things were going with Cassie. Worry gnawed at her. She hoped her sister wouldn’t fall apart the way she’d been prone to do these past months.
Somewhere in the distance the sky rumbled. A storm was definitely coming.
Cassie walked up to the window and stared outside as thunder echoed beyond the mountains.
“I wish I knew,” she said, her face a broken mask. “You’re not the sharing type.”
Jace went to s
tand behind her, making sure to leave a safe distance between them. In the north, black-bellied clouds pooled—a thick, gray mass that rippled with an invisible energy he could actually feel.
“You must know something about me. For starters, what do I do? Do I have some kind of job?”
“No. You write music. Beautiful, soulful music. I’ve never heard anything like it.”
“A musician?” The word didn’t strike a note in him. “Do I have a CD out, work gigs?”
Cassie wagged her head, sending blond curls rioting around her cheeks. “Nothing like that. You just create. You once told me you don’t want to corrupt your work by making it public. It’s just for you and those you choose to share it with.”
He thought of the expensive watch, the wad of twenty-dollar bills in his wallet. “How do I live?”
“Beats me, but I know one thing, you’re never short on cash.”
Great, so now he was some kind of criminal. Maybe he dealt drugs in bars or on street corners. Maybe he’d tried some himself and that was why his brain cells were fried. The more he learned about himself, the less he liked what he heard.
“How about my family? Do I have any brothers or sisters?”
“Not that I know of. I think your dad’s still alive, but I don’t think you visit him much.”
“Why not?”
One of her shoulders twitched in a half shrug. “You didn’t say. I got the feeling he was a sore subject for you.”
“So I’m loaded but have no job, I’m an only child, and I have major issues with my old man. Does that about sum it up?”
She nodded. “Sorry I don’t know more.” Her gaze met his, and heat wrapped in a thread of desperation smoldered in her eyes. “When we were together, we didn’t spend much time talking.”
The seductive purr should have elicited something in him, but he felt nothing. No spark in his veins, no kick in his crotch. This woman didn’t incite a fraction of the response her sister did. There was a growing thirst inside him. One that was both exacerbated and quenched when Lia was around. How did that make any sense?
Cassie slunk toward him, lips pursed, hooded eyes glazed with desire. Her palms slid down his chest to linger at his waist. “The past isn’t important. It’s gone and buried. We can start over. Make new memories.”
A guy would have to be out of his mind to turn down an offer like that, which only confirmed what he already suspected. He was flaming mad. Prying her hands from his body, he took a step back. “I can’t go on with my life until I know what happened to me. Sorry, Cass.”
Tears instantly pooled on her lashes. “You always called me that. See?” Her fingers came to rest on his chest again, this time right over his heart. “I’m still in there. Somewhere.”
Her fractured aura crackled again, hope tempered by despair. This woman was looking for something to fill in the cracks, to help her piece herself together. Unfortunately, all she managed to do was tear more strips in her soul.
He wanted to feel sorry for her, but he couldn’t even dredge up enough emotion to experience pity. Feelings like guilt or regret were so far removed from him, he wondered if he’d ever been capable of them.
“I’m not the same man anymore. I can’t go back and I can’t move forward. I’m trapped. Whatever we had—” He paused, unsure how to phrase it, then decided bluntness was the best way to go. No question marks. No shades of gray. “It’s over.”
Her hand fell away. “I won’t accept that. I can’t.”
This time, he almost did pity her. Before he could respond, the door swung open, and a tall, graceful brunette entered. Jet black hair streamed down a straight back. Smooth, olive-toned skin stretched over prominent cheekbones. She looked exotic, like she had Indian blood in her. Her sudden appearance rattled him because he’d seen her before, through a steam-covered shower door.
Her eyes were brighter today, a glittering chocolate brown, and swirls of emotion stirred in their depths. What piqued his interest was that she looked normal to him. No haloing glow enveloped her.
“I’m here to draw some blood.” She bared a silver-tipped syringe. Her voice was upbeat, her smile reassuring, but Jace remained convinced that this was the woman—the creature—who’d tried to drown him.
She angled an assessing glance at Cassie. “I know you.”
Cassie quickly swiped at her damp eyes with the back of her hand. “Yeah. We met a few weeks ago. Diane, right? I’m Lia’s sister, Cassie.”
“That’s right. You joined Lia for lunch. You looked really upset about something.”
Cassie slanted an uncomfortable look Jace’s way, and the hurt on her face convinced him he’d been the source of her misery even then. “I should be going. I’m late for work.”
Shoving past him, Cassie made a run for the door. “I’ll see you around,” she tossed back at him halfheartedly, right before she disappeared through the opening. The door slammed shut in her wake, though Jace could’ve sworn Cassie didn’t touch it.
The creepy Indian princess approached him, needle in hand.
“Are you going to stab me with that thing?”
His humor was lost on her. She remained focused, intent. “No. Unless the tip has been dipped in angel’s blood, it would be pointless.”
Okay, so he wasn’t the only one who was nuts. “I thought you said you were here to draw blood.”
From her white coat pocket, she pulled out two vials filled to the brim. “As far as everyone’s concerned, I already have.”
Now she was seriously freaking him out. “Were you in my room yesterday? When I was in the shower?”
Pleasure curled her mouth, and hatred made her dark gaze burn. “I know what you are.” The statement sounded like a death omen.
“Don’t come any closer.”
The woman—what had Cassie called her, Diane?—froze. Frissons of shock spilled from her body. She struggled to move but couldn’t. “How? I’m one of you.” Her surprise was palpable.
Jace couldn’t help but feel he was missing something. “Who are you? Tell the truth.”
“My name is Diahann.” She bit her lower lip, but it was too late. The words had already escaped.
“Fine. What are you?”
She groaned, fighting to break whatever spell he’d cast on her. “An angel of death and destruction. Spawn of the fallen.”
Jace didn’t understand what was happening any more than she did, but he had every intention of milking it. “Why are you here?”
“To kill you.”
“Why?”
“Because Athanatos ordered me to.”
What kind of madhouse had he stumbled into? “Who’s Athanatos?”
“An Ancient. The most powerful one of all. Ruler of the Kleptopsychs.”
This creature was a mystery to him. He sensed a life-force in her, but it didn’t fit, like it didn’t belong there, and she was slowly choking the life out of it.
“I’ve answered your questions. Now set me free.”
“Why would I want to do that? So you can come after me again, this time with a chainsaw?”
“You can’t keep me like this forever. And you can’t kill me. You don’t know how.”
“I could always return the favor and drown you.”
Fear drenched her features. Her eyes went black again, and everything in the room began to quake. The pitcher of water on his nightstand fell and shattered. The noise startled him, and he inadvertently released the mental hold he had on her. In a streak, she was gone, a dark specter fading in the light.
Jace collapsed on the bed, suddenly drained. Weakness clawed at his limbs, left him tired and spent. Sweat sprang from his pores as a chill skated over his flesh. The nurse’s words reverberated in his mind, both a revelation and a curse.
Angel of death and destruction. Spawn of the fallen.
What on God’s earth was going on? Or more precisely, what the hell had he become?
When Lia returned to Jace’s room, Cassie was gone, and Jace lay on the be
d, sweating and shivering. Concern had her rushing to his side, checking his pulse. His heartbeat was weak. Thankfully, he didn’t seem to be running a fever. She ran her palm over his face just to be sure. Her touch seemed to comfort him. As if she’d flicked some imaginary switch, the shivering stopped.
His fingers suddenly closed in a vise-like grip around her wrist. His lids sprang open, and his heated gaze latched on to hers. The need sizzling in his eyes burned a trail straight to her gut and turned her knees to rubber.
He pulled her closer, whispered in her ear. “You’ve got something I need.”
The words, coupled with the intensity with which they were spoken, sent a pleasant shiver racing down her spine.
“Just take it easy and let me examine you.”
The more she touched him, the more he settled. Energy vibrated between them, an invisible current that bound them to each other. Slowly the sweat on his flesh dried. Vitality gushed back in to brighten his ashen complexion. He wrapped his hand around hers, drew her palm to his face again. A thin blanket of stubble brushed her skin and made it prickle uncomfortably. Fire raced through her to wind itself around her heart, the way his fingers wound around hers. “You’re an angel, Lia. A healer.”
The man was delirious. She yanked her hand free. “Sit still and let me listen to your heart.” She placed her stethoscope on his chest. His heartbeat has resumed its normal pace, strong and steady.
Leaning her hip against the bed frame, she released a long breath that rattled in her lungs. “What happened to you, Jace? You were perfectly fine an hour ago. Did you have some kind of seizure?”
He sat up, his expression deep and pensive. “You could say that. A nurse came and drew some blood. Guess it wiped me out.”
Why did he refuse to meet her eyes? “You’re telling me a couple of vials of blood knocked you off your feet?”
“Looks like I’m lily-livered. Can’t stand the sight of blood.”
Doubt had her squinting in thought. “It’s just about time for your MRI. We better get a move on. Think you can walk or should I get a wheelchair?”
