“Not yet.”
“You should do what your friend is suggesting,” the man called over Heaven’s head. Her skin gave as the knife pressed deeper. “You boys need to go back the way you came. If you don’t…”
Heaven cried out when the blade sank into her skin. The sight of her blood trickling down burnt Dylan to the core. Everything about the air changed. The wind, once blowing cooler, warmed. Even the scent of brine dissipated.
A bead of sweat formed at his neck with each second, like he’d stepped into a sauna, fully clothed. The once ebbing tide shifted, bringing the waves closer to where he stood. Not even they went unaffected. Each white crest grew frothier the warmer the water became. As if a tendril snaked upward, a puff of steam floated closer to his face.
At least he thought it was steam. Would have taken a moment to confirm it if the following scream didn’t pierce his ears.
The screams didn’t affect him. Not like Heaven’s had. Seeing the stranger clawing at his neck proved disturbing. As did his repeated cry. Something about burning. Dylan didn’t stand around to decipher his madness. He charged forward, swooping in to wrap his arms around Heaven’s waist. Pulling her up was effortless. As was carrying her away from the scene.
Yet the moment his eyes fell on Layne, he couldn’t take another step. Hardened eyes focused only on the screaming stranger, as if Dylan and Heaven didn’t exist. The more he squinted, the more than man screamed.
The sound of his voice, the throated cries of agony, bit at Dylan, but he continued his retreat. Kept moving forward until the drier sand scattered across the ground. He didn’t remember going around the rock. Couldn’t worry about whether Layne would need his help. Getting Heaven to safety mattered most.
Heaven’s body convulsed as Dylan went to his knees. Both arms wrapped about her, keeping her at his chest. He didn’t understand why her body shivered. Not when he couldn’t keep the sweat from dripping into his brow. At least holding her would bring her some relief.
What was once a deafening scream gave way to a fainter sound. Like gurgling. It lasted only a few seconds before the waves resonated against the rock. His eyes fell on the water, which had once again receded to the sea. Then another sound filled the air. A groan. Bold. Deep. Fierce. Some would call it a cry of victory. Dylan’s gut rebutted. Regret pulsed around him. It intertwined with disbelief, tearing at his heart. It had to be Layne. But why? Did he—
Heaven’s screams broke through the questions filling his mind. He tightened his arms, doing his best to calm her as she struggled against him.
“Oh my God,” she panted, clenching her right hand. “It burns!”
Another round of wails had him grabbing her hand, bringing it closer for inspection. An inspection that revealed nothing but the skin he wanted against his face. Each time another moan left her lips, the ache in his soul increased. Tears rolled down her face, onto his shirt. Her teeth sunk in her lips, bringing forth a trail of blood smaller than the one that dried on her neck.
“Heaven, it’s okay.” He cupped her face with his hand, forcing her to look at him. Their eyes met for an instant. Just long enough for him to see anguish consuming her soul. Then her lids fluttered closed.
As her body grew limp in his arms, he gripped her shoulders, giving her a firm shake. “Heaven. Wake up.” Another shake brought more silence. As did the third. And just as he shook her one last time, fire filled his palm.
The scorching sensation spread across his hand, up to his heart where it amplified to every cell.
He wavered for a heartbeat. Maybe two. Hard to say when the images around him grew darker. The hum of Heaven’s soul thrummed in his ears as he gave in to the darkness. Then the fire pulsing around him engulfed his body. As did the ground.
* * *
Jerking into a sitting position, Dylan cried out Heaven’s name before gasping for air. He gripped the sand only to find out he no longer sat upon it. Instead, cotton sheets filled his hand. Sheets that he should be laying under with Heaven. Too bad he’d screwed everything up. Caused her to get kidnapped. Almost lost her for the rest of his life.
May have anyway.
How had he ended up in this bed? And where was Heaven? The last time he saw her—
The sheets flew in the air as he scurried to get out of bed. Every muscle in his body ached in protest. When he brushed his feet against the carpet, a warm hand on his shoulder stopped him. As did the soft sound of his mother’s voice.
“Relax, Dylan. She’s okay.”
“No she’s not.” He found her on the other side of the bed, leaning forward with both hands gripping his shoulder. The more she fought to restrain him, the more he pulled his arm back. “I have to find her. She’s in pain.”
“I promise you, sweetheart. She’s not in any physical pain. I saw her less than ten minutes ago.”
It couldn’t be. She’d passed out in his arms. Not long before he did the same. “What the hell happened, Mom?”
“If you calm down, I will try to explain.”
He didn’t want to calm down. Wouldn’t until he saw Heaven. If he could read her, confirm his mother’s story, things would be different. Damn whatever kept blocking them. When he found out who kept doing it—
“Will you relax?”
“Fine.” His other hand shot up in the air, signaling defeat. “I’ll calm down. Just let go of me. I want to stand.”
“Okay.” The grip on his arm loosened. Uncurling her fingers from his arm, she hesitated a moment before righting herself. “Don’t jump to your feet. Rise slowly.”
He didn’t need her coddling him. For Christ’s sake he was old enough to take care of himself. He’d just defeated a transporter. Would have killed him if Layne hadn’t…
“Where’s Layne?”
“He’s downstairs with Hope and Scott. Nicholas and Anna are with Heaven.” She moved from the bed, walking around the foot until she made it to the same side as him. “We found the three of you passed out on the beach. As well as the men who had Heaven. Nicholas contacted the Regency. Our…authority figures, if you will. They took it from there. ”
“What the hell happened to us?” When her eyes fell to the floor, he stood up from the bed. His ass met the mattress again as everything shifted. The room. The floor. The air.
“I told you to rise slowly. You’ve been drained, Dylan. The man that kidnapped Heaven was a Drainer. They feed off psychic energy as well as emotions. You gave him plenty of both.”
“How long will I feel like this?” He grabbed his head, massaging at the temple. His bottom lip burned when he ran his tongue over it.
The bed gave beside him when his mother’s hand patted his back. “You’ll be better in a few hours.”
“I’ll be better when I see Heaven.”
“Dylan.” A chill shot up his spine when she folded her hands over his. The way her gaze moved toward the bed proved what she had to say wouldn’t be good. “Heaven’s been pretty resilient to a lot of things. She’s sprung back from two attacks. But this third one…it’s going to take time. If we’re lucky, just a few days.”
“So we’ll extend our stay. If not here, we’ll find another place to stay. When Heaven’s better, we’ll have the wedding and go from there.”
The longer she averted his gaze, the more his stomach began to churn. Then she exhaled. “Heaven asked her parents to book her a flight back to L.A. I went ahead and booked ours, too. We leave in the morning.”
“Fine. We’ll go back. Give her time to recuperate. Her parents can stay at the house. When she’s ready, we’ll go somewhere else. Or stay in—”
His mother’s dark hair brushed her shoulders with each shake of her head. “You have to give her time. Because right now, she doesn’t want to marry you. Or stay in L.A.”
The words had just enough time to register in his mind before he made it to his feet. His mother mimicked his movements, but her slender frame couldn’t match his. He brushed past her, moving across the room toward the door.
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“Don’t cause a scene, Dylan. She’s been through enough, tonight.”
“All because of me.” The words caught in his throat as he turned the knob, jerking the door open. “She has to know how I really feel. She has to know how much I love her.”
His words echoed through the hall when he stepped out of the room. And out of his mother’s grasp. The small victory didn’t stack up to the opposition ahead of him. Both Nicholas and Layne stood arm-to-arm, dead center of the second bedroom door.
“Is this torment Dylan day? How can keeping us apart help her?”
“It’s not helping her.” Nicholas rebutted, folding his arms over his chest. “But neither will you pleading your case. She needs time to heal.”
It only took Dylan a couple strides to face his would-be father-in-law. He shot Layne a squinted glare before refocusing on Nicholas. “I’m the best thing to make that happen. Her heart is in pieces because of me. I’m the only one who can fit them back together.”
“And you will.” Nicholas retorted, leaning his back against the door. “When she’s ready. Not a moment before then.”
Refocusing on Layne, he fought back the urge to slam him into the wall. “So I guess you can go in and see her but I can’t.”
“No. I haven’t seen her. She refuses to speak with either one of us.”
Anger shot to Dylan’s core. He stepped forward, ready to prove to both men that no one would stop him from getting to her. Then distant sobs broke out behind the door. The sound tore at his heart. To know the reason behind the heartache.
Both Nicholas and Layne turned their heads at the sound. Layne flinched, like he wanted to open the door, but Nicholas shook his head. Hesitating until Layne turned back around, he stepped away from the door before he faced Dylan. “Do you understand now? She’s traumatized. Give her a few days.”
“Okay.” The words stuck in Dylan’s throat. He tried to swallow, but the dryness in his mouth only made him cough. “I’ll keep my distance, but I’m not leaving. Not unless I hear the words from her.” Stepping back from the door, he pressed his back against the cool wall, sliding down until his butt hit the floor. “Wherever she goes, I’ll be right outside her door. I won’t let anyone else put her through this again.”
“That makes two of us,” Nicholas snorted.
CHAPTER 27
Layne’s boots scuffed against the carpet as he made his way down the hallway, eyeing the numbers on the hotel doors. Each step brought him closer to his final destination. The Lewis’ suite. The one and only place he would get answers to the questions exploding in his mind. He couldn’t take the silence anymore. Dylan wouldn’t answer his calls. Or return them. In fact, no one would.
He did the right thing the minute they arrived back in L.A. Kept his distance from Dylan and Heaven. Gave his friend time to process the chaos that unfolded in Aruba. Dylan had enough on him. His presence would only complicate that.
But a week with no communication became too much. As did the need to be near Heaven. He had to find out why Delia called him Heaven’s Keeper. If it explained this constant pull to her, then maybe he wouldn’t feel so crazy.
The closer he came to the end of the hallway, the more he dreaded knocking on the door. Would Nicholas and Anna allow him inside their suite? Would Dylan?
Guess he’d find out soon enough.
His knuckles burned as they crackled against the door. A second later, feet shuffled from the other side. Then a lock clicked before the door gave way to a wide-eyed gaze.
“What are you doing here?” Hope asked, holding the door with one hand, pressing the other against the frame. She did her best to block his view. Would have succeeded if he didn’t have a good half-foot on her. His eyes roamed over her head, landing on Delia.
A warm smile lit up her face. The same smile she’d put on her lips for as long as he could remember. Why she believed in him when no one else did, he’d never know. Didn’t really care if it got him through the door.
“Let him pass, Hope. He has a right to be here. Maybe even more than you.”
Tapping her fingers against the door, Hope’s lip pursed, like she wanted to respond with disapproval. But she didn’t. She stepped aside, exaggerating the gesture for him to enter.
Layne didn’t hesitate. He swept past Hope, not giving her the chance to change her mind. His feet didn’t stop until he crossed the threshold to the sitting room. Anna occupied a spot near the window. Scott sat on the sectional.
An elbow met his ribs as Hope pushed past him. She didn’t jab him, but a blind man could see how much she disliked him being there. Still, she remained silent, joining Scott on the couch.
Anna wrapped her sweater tighter, hugging it to her body. She offered him a smile before moving across the carpet. “You’re silver,” she whispered.
“Silver,” Hope snorted. “I’d say gray.”
“You’ve much to learn about your ability, daughter. Layne doesn’t lack commitment. He’s full of encouragement. Wants to protect your sister. That’s the most important thing. The rest he can learn to balance.”
This family checked out of reality. All this crazy talk about colors, and Keepers, and people moving faster than…
When had everyone boarded the crazy train?
“Listen.” He waved his hands in front of him, urging everyone to stop talking. “I didn’t come here to buy into this mystical lifestyle you have going on. I want to check on Dylan and Heaven. I’m the one that started this mess.”
“No, you didn’t” Delia’s voice chimed in as she stepped beside him, curling her fingers over his shoulder. “This mess started years ago. Before any of you were born. And whether you want to believe in our mystical lifestyle or not, you’re still a part of it.”
Granted, he may have lost his mind long ago, but even their story proved unbelievable. He gazed down at the carpet, forcing images from his mind.
“I don’t know what all this means. I witnessed things in Aruba, hell, I did things in Aruba that I’d like to forget. Why hasn’t someone reported me to the police? I killed a man.”
“Because our society has its own laws.” Delia squeezed his shoulder until he met her gaze. “We’re governed by our own kind. What you did violated no rules.”
“What you did saved Heaven’s life.”
Layne spun toward the hallway, locking eyes with Dylan the moment he did. Heaven’s family wasn’t the only passengers on the crazy train. The look in Dylan’s eyes said he’d jumped aboard way before they had.
He raked his fingers through his hair, trying to tame the mess it had become. Bags lingered beneath his eyes, revealing his sleep deprivation. Not to mention how many tears they’d shed.
Not that Layne could blame him for crying. Had Heaven chosen to love him the way she loved Dylan…to lose that—or at least be kept from it—would make even the toughest man weep. God knows he would have.
“You’re the one that grabbed her. Got her to safety. All I did was save your ass from landing in jail.”
“You did more than that. You did the one thing I’ve failed to do. Twice. You protected her.” Dylan’s glassy stare went past Layne’s shoulder, to Delia, as he mumbled, “You did what you were created to do.”
The more they talked, the more Layne’s head pounded. When would they give up this charade? “Enough with this cryptic talk. I swear, I think you’ve all lost it. Your craziness isn’t making sense.”
“It’s only because you don’t know what’s going on.” The gentle words came from his left, where Anna leaned against the wall. “Dylan didn’t have details until he came to see us. He still doesn’t have all the details.”
“What are you guys, superheroes?” He meant it to sound sarcastic, but it came out as anything but. Delia and Anna’s laughter didn’t surprise him, but the way it circled around him did. He bit his jaw, cursing the heat in his cheeks.
“We’re not superheroes, Layne, though we do have abilities. Psychic abilities. You already know that I read t
arot cards. That my gut instincts are on target.”
“Freakishly on target,” he snorted.
He followed the length of Delia’s hand as she pointed to Anna. “She reads auras. That’s why she mentions colors when she sees you. We just found out that Hope has the same ability.”
“Not exactly the same.” Hope’s voice sounded muffled. Layne turned to see that her head nestled against Scott’s chest. Both leaned against the back of the couch, lost in a sea of oversized pillows. “My mom can see colors. I sense them.”
“Let me guess. Scott smells colors.” His words sounded harsher than he’d intended.
Scott didn’t seem fazed. He simply shook his head, not cracking a hint of smile when he said, “According to Delia, I’m what they call a Cooler. I calm people down. And all these years, I thought it was my charming personality.”
At least Scott’s sarcasm came off as laughable. He wanted to laugh. At all of them. Instead, he stepped back into the kitchen, pressing his back against the marble bar. “It’s a little late in the year for an April Fools joke. Last time I checked the calendar, it said October.”
“It’s not a joke, Layne.” Anna pushed off the wall, making her way back to the window. “It’s a little bizarre at first, but you’ll get used to it. Nicholas struggled at first. As did Nate.”
“Wait a minute.” He started to walk toward the window, but Delia stopped him. “Are you saying the man who wants Heaven dead has an ability he can use against her?”
Delia didn’t respond. But Dylan did. “He already has. Don’t you remember the engagement party?”
He didn’t bother looking at Dylan. Just knowing that he’d kept this type of news from him made his blood simmer. “So what about you, Dylan?” Layne asked, facing the hallway where his friend stood, gripping the corner of the wall. “Do you and Heaven have an abilities?”
“We’re Empaths. We feel each other’s emotions. I have instincts like my mom. Heaven can sense people’s energy.”
“So what am I?” Layne barked, jabbing his finger in his chest. “You keep calling me a Keeper, but you won’t tell me what it means.”
What the Heart Needs Page 28
