A jolt went through her. Richard had worn a similar stone, which had been attuned to the great Atlantian crystal buried in the Atlantic Ocean. He had also imbued it with his own energy, and it had been a personal touchstone, acting as an amplifier for his powers.
The trooper/Belian reached down and ripped the chain off Richard’s lifeless body. With a triumphant roar, he held up the stone, blood dripping off it. “I am victorious! Praise be to Belial!” he shouted, grinning triumphantly.
Then he turned his malevolent gaze on Kara. “And the woman becomes mine.” He stalked toward her, the necklace dangling from his fist, reflecting the flashing lights and the blood…
“Wow,” Alex said in an awed voice. “Can I touch it?”
“Sure.” Damien leaned further down, offering the stone. “Hold it in your hand, if you want.”
“Wow,” Alex said again. “I can feel the energy. It’s shaking in my hand.” He looked up at Kara. “I can really feel it, Mom!”
“That’s great,” she said, taking a shaky breath.
“Do all Sentinels have these?” Alex asked Damien. “Can I have one?”
“Many Sentinels have them, but you need to wait until you’re older, and see how your powers develop.”
“Aw,” Alex groaned.
“Also, you must never tell anyone about this crystal,” Damien said. “Because then someone might figure out I’m a Sentinel, and remember, we’ve already agreed that should always be a secret.”
“I remember.” Alex looked at him solemnly. “Some people don’t like Sentinels.”
“They don’t understand, and they’re afraid. It is important to keep it secret,” Damien replied. “Now, let’s see how well you’re shielding yourself.”
Alex showed him how he’d been pretending to lock his special abilities in a box, and Damien seemed pleased with his progress. “Very good,” he said, and Alex practically beamed. “Now, we need to work on ‘listening’ or ‘feeling’ without lowering your shields.”
“Listening? That’s about my ears.”
“I’m talking about listening with your senses. When you feel energy, like you felt with my crystal.”
Alex nodded. “Or like the really bad feeling I got at Mrs. Burgess’s house.”
“Yeah, like that. What do you think that was?”
“I don’t know.” Alex’s forehead furrowed. “Maybe it was Mrs. Burgess’s ghost. Or maybe it was from the bad person who hurt her.”
So he did realize Doris might have been murdered. Kara shouldn’t have been surprised, given how sensitive he was.
“Was Mrs. Burgess a nice lady?” Damien asked.
“Yeah. She was really cool, for an old person.”
“Since her ghost is basically her soul, do you think it would be mean?”
Alex considered, shook his head in the negative.
“That means two things,” Damien said. “The first is that if Mrs. Burgess’s ghost does come to see you, you don’t need to be afraid. And you could try to listen to her ghost, because it might be able to tell you something important. The second thing is that if you sensed something else, and if it felt bad, then it came from a bad person. You need to learn how to sense when someone or something is bad so that you can protect yourself. And you need to be able to do it without lowering your shields. Are you ready to work on that?”
“I don’t know. Feeling bad things is kinda scary.”
“It is,” Damien agreed. “But it’s something that Sentinels do, so they can help people. And you can learn to do it without getting hurt.”
After more consideration, Alex finally agreed to let Damien show him how to listen with all his senses. Kara held her silence, although it was hard. She wanted to protest, to insist enough was enough, and to take her son home. But the safe world they’d known a week ago no longer existed, and she knew Alex had to be able to sense danger in order to run from it.
She had to admit Damien was good with her son. “You keep your shields up,” he explained, “only you crack them just a little. Do you have screens on your windows?”
“Yes.”
“Do you know what they’re for?”
“Yeah, so we can open our windows to let the air in, but keep the bugs out.”
“Exactly,” Damien said. “You want to open your shields slightly, but keep up a screen, only it’s not for bugs. It’s to keep your energies in, and to filter out the energies you let inside. You have to be careful what you pick up. Let me show you what I mean.”
They practiced the technique for another thirty minutes or so, and Kara didn’t need any special senses to see that Alex’s abilities were already quite pronounced. It was very unsettling, and she had to grudgingly concede—again—that Damien was right that it was safer for her son to learn shielding and control.
Damien called a halt when it became obvious that Alex was mentally tiring. But it took a lot more to spend the physical energy of a healthy young boy. Alex immediately snatched up the soccer ball.
“Let’s play some soccer!” He pointed to a sizable tree about twenty yards away. “That can be the goal, but you hafta actually hit it with the ball. We can play one-on-one.” He went down on one knee, pulling his calf up behind him. “C’mon Mr. Morgan. You gotta stretch first.”
The incredulous expression on Damien’s face was priceless. Kara knew from firsthand experience that Sentinels did not play at anything. They were ultraserious, ultrafocused on the evil beings they pursued day in and day out. She had often suspected Richard had been born a miniature adult and had never experienced being a child.
Even Alex, without the traditional Sentinel upbringing, was often more serious than not, had always seemed older than his years. He did love soccer, though.
Alex extended his leg out behind him, doing a lunge stretch. “C’mon! Gotta warm up your muscles.”
She should probably come to Damien’s aid, but couldn’t resist the opportunity for a little payback for the upheaval he’d brought into their lives.
“Yeah, Morgan,” she said, rising, and grasping her right ankle behind her for a standing quadriceps stretch. “Come on. You should be able to hold your own against a little boy and a mere woman. Unless, of course, you’re not up to the challenge.” She gave him a feral grin as she changed ankles.
His eyes narrowed to silver slits. He came to his feet in a smooth, lithe movement and stepped into her personal space. “Oh, I’m up to any challenge,” he said softly. “And I do know how to play the game.”
Heat and awareness flooded her body, and her throat tightened. She should know better than to bait a Sentinel, especially one who was so synchronized with her conductor energies. Determined to hold her own, she let go of her ankle and angled her chin at him. “Good. Try to keep up, will you? Alex, give me that ball.”
She snatched the ball from Alex and whirled, tossing it toward the goal-designated tree. She was after it in a flash. She’d done her own stint at soccer in her preteen years, and she often scrimmaged with Alex.
“Hey!” Alex shouted. “You’re supposed to wait until the whistle blows.”
“Don’t have a whistle.” Laughing, she glanced back over her shoulder to see Alex barreling after her, his small legs pumping furiously. She’d run track in high school, so she had good speed and was well ahead. She looked past him just as Damien tossed his jacket onto the blanket and casually pushed up his sweater sleeves, as if the competition hadn’t started.
Kara stopped and stared, telling herself she was just getting her breath and letting Alex catch up with her. Then Damien took off like a rocket, racing toward her with superhuman speed, determination hardening his face. A frisson of panic shot through her, followed by an adrenaline rush. She spun, kicked the ball ahead, and raced after it.
Alex was almost up with her, and still shouting. She slowed slightly to let him catch up, saw Damien was upon them, the heat of battle in his eyes.
Alex took advantage of her distraction to kick the ball t
oward the goal tree. Both Kara and Damien raced after it. She was in the lead, but he had Sentinel speed and no compunction about using it. Even so, she was determined he wouldn’t get past her. As he came abreast of her, she deliberately careened into him, giving him a hard push for good measure. Caught off guard, he lost his balance and tumbled to the ground.
“Hey!” he shouted after her as she commandeered the ball and maneuvered it toward the tree. “That’s a foul.”
“And cheating,” Alex added, running behind her.
She lined up the ball, took aim, and kicked. By sheer luck, it grazed the tree. “I’ve got a point, I’ve got a point!” she chanted, doing a little victory dance.
Standing, Damien brushed the leaves off his jeans. “That was a foul and cheating.”
She put her hands on her hips, stared both males down. “Oh, poor babies. And who are you going to tell? The referee? The point stands.”
Damien’s eyes flashed. “Is that so?” He edged around her, toward the ball. “I’m going to win, even with you cheating.”
“Really? And just what do you call that Robocop speed thing you do?”
“Natural ability.” He made a dash for the ball, scooped it up on the run. “Alex, go out for a pass.”
Giggling, Alex dashed away at a perpendicular angle and Damien heaved the ball about forty feet toward the tree line. Alex expertly took control with his feet and moved it back toward the goal.
“Damn Sentinel powers,” Kara muttered, chasing after the men. “Hey, this is soccer, not football!” she yelled.
“Deal with it,” Damien called over his shoulder.
“Yeah! Deal with it,” Alex repeated, looking back and grinning from ear to ear.
Her son was having a blast, Kara realized. And he appeared totally at ease with Damien, who was far more intimidating than any of the other men in Alex’s life. Yet Alex didn’t appear at all intimidated, and she could only guess he felt more comfortable with his own kind. A disconcerting thought—that her son was a member of another race.
Refusing to dwell on those thoughts, she raced after the guys. Jumping back into the skirmish, she managed to “accidentally” trip Damien and send him sprawling again. She quickly learned the error of her ways when an invisible shove sent her flat on her butt a moment later. Sitting on the ground, she glared at Damien, who was a good fifteen feet away.
“Do you really want to talk about cheating?” she demanded.
He offered a feral grin similar to her earlier one. “No, I want to talk about winning.”
Rediscovering the competitive spirit of her youth, she pushed off the ground and took off after the ball. They went at it hard, laughing and shouting, until she finally collapsed on the blanket. “No more,” she said, gasping and still laughing at the same time.
Alex collapsed next to her, and flopped onto his back. “Hey Mom, you have leaves in your hair. You look really funny.”
“Well so do you, kiddo. You have dirt on your face and your hair is sticking straight up. Mr. Macho Robocop over there doesn’t look much better.”
“Ah, but I won.” Damien strolled to the blanket and stood over them like a giant vulture. Grass stains covered his sweater and jeans.
“Yeah, right, you used brute force to make those last two points.”
“A win is a win,” he said smugly.
“Hey!” Alex bounced up like a jack-in-the-box. “I’m starving! Can we go get something to eat?”
“I don’t know.” Kara glanced at her watch. The daylight was already fading. “It’s getting late, and Mr. Morgan probably has other plans.”
“Mr. Morgan, don’t you want to eat with us? Say yes!” Alex pleaded.
Damien hesitated, as if considering his options. “If your mother doesn’t mind,” he said finally, meeting Kara’s gaze. “I’m pretty hungry myself.”
“Well, then,” she said, surprised. “I guess that settles it. Dinner at the Busy Bee?”
“I have another idea,” Damien said. “How about the Gristmill in Gruene? I’ve never been there, but I’ve heard it’s a great place to eat.” He glanced at his own watch. “We should be there by six, before it gets really crowded.”
“It’s always crowded.” Kara started gathering up the thermoses and mugs. Alex was on his knees, rocking up and down and giving her his Please Mom, please! expression. “But okay,” she conceded. “They do have good food.”
“Yes!” Alex crowed, leaping to his feet to do a victory dance. “The Gristmill! Yes!”
More surprises, Kara thought as the evening progressed. It had taken about thirty minutes to wind their way down 281 and 46 to Gruene, and then another twenty minutes just to find a parking space and navigate the people and cars to get to the Gristmill, right around six o’clock, just as Damien had predicted.
The restaurant was already packed, despite it being off-season for tourists, so they put their name on the waiting list and hit the bar before finding seats on benches in the outdoor courtyard. Damien had a draft beer, while Kara had a glass of red wine and allowed Alex a soft drink.
A two-piece band played guitar and banjo and sang country ballads, while the names of those whose tables were now available were scrawled on the huge blackboard and then erased with amazing speed. It was chilly but fun, despite the oddity of being there with Damien, or with any man, for that matter. They didn’t talk much over the music, just listened and sipped their drinks.
After a twenty-five-minute wait, they were shown to a table that was fortunately inside rather than on one of the outside tiers. It was impossible to see the Guadalupe River running alongside the restaurant at night anyway, and it had gotten even colder. Kara watched in amazement as Damien consumed two more beers and chicken poblano quesadillas for an appetizer, a huge Gristburger smothered in queso sauce, and every one of the round-cut fries on his plate.
“Fast metabolism,” he said when he caught her staring.
“I know.” She picked at her grilled chicken salad, remembering Richard’s incredible metabolic rate. “Disgusting.”
“No, actually, it’s a boon when the food is good. Anyone want dessert?”
Kara declined, but Alex was all for it. He and Damien agreed to split a chocolate supreme, but Damien ended up eating most of the fudge pie and Blue Bell ice cream (after Alex took care of the whipped cream and cherries). The man obviously had a sweet tooth and she sourly hoped he had lots of cavities—it was only fair—but she knew better.
Sentinels also had an amazing immune system and recuperating powers, and rarely suffered malaises regular humans did. Richard had never had a cavity in his life, and Damien would probably be the same. Alex was almost never sick, had never even had strep throat.
They left Gruene around eight, Kara pleasantly full and definitely starting to wilt, energy wise. She must have fallen asleep during the drive back to Zorro, because she came awake abruptly when Damien said her name.
She looked around, disoriented, and squinted against the interior car light. Damien was outside the car, leaning into the back to unfasten Alex’s seat belt. Her son was sound asleep. “Where are we?” she asked, still groggy.
“Your house. Both of you slept most of the way.”
“I’m sorry.” She unfastened her own seat belt, pushed out of the car on stiff legs. “That was rude of me.”
“You needed the rest.” He stood with Alex in his arms. “I’m guessing you haven’t been sleeping very well.”
“I guess you’re right. Mac, hush!” she admonished the barking dog as she started toward the house, pulling her keys from her purse. “If you don’t mind carrying Alex inside, you can just put him in bed. He probably won’t wake up.”
“I think we wore him out.”
“Yes.” Wore me out, too, she thought wearily.
She pulled back Alex’s covers and Damien lowered him to the bed. She tugged off her son’s jacket and shoes, covered him, and kissed him.
“I’d better go and let you get some rest. Tomorrow
—” He let the word trail off, and Kara thought of what lay ahead. Today had simply been a temporary diversion from a vicious reality.
She followed him to the front door. “Thank you for being so patient with Alex, for taking the time to instruct him. Do you think he’s catching on to shielding himself?”
“Yes. He’s very smart, very intuitive.” Damien’s gaze locked with hers. “Kara, his abilities are developing at a rapid rate. There is nothing you can do to stop their natural progression.”
Her chest tightened. “I know.” Just as she knew she could no longer ignore Alex’s powers or make them go away.
“He’s a fast learner.” A slight smile teased Damien’s mouth. “But I think he liked the soccer game best.”
“I have no doubt of it. He really misses having a regular male figure in his life. However, cheating to win a game is not setting a good example for him.” She strove to keep her tone and gaze stern, but failed miserably.
“Really.” Now Damien did smile. “I think striving to win is a worthy goal.”
“Is that a male, or a Sentinel, viewpoint?”
“Both,” he said, exuding dangerously charismatic masculinity.
She grasped the door handle, decided to change the subject. “Thank you for dinner. You didn’t have to pay for ours.”
“It was my pleasure. Good night, Kara.” He turned and strode into the darkness.
She locked the door behind him, sank onto the sofa, and sat there a long time. She couldn’t remember how long it had been since she’d had such an enjoyable day. Damien had been attentive, fun, even charming. It was unsettling, though, because Sentinels simply weren’t social beings.
Richard had been very much the loner, although once he understood that social events and niceties were important to Kara, he’d made an effort to attend the occasional party; to take her out to eat, to remember holidays and special occasions. But it wasn’t an intrinsic part of his nature and had required a deliberate effort on his part.
Yet Damien had seemed relaxed, had appeared to truly enjoy himself. While that should have put Kara more at ease, should have been reassuring, instead it was disconcerting. Because, she realized, it made Damien seem human. That was a very dangerous assumption to make.
She didn’t want to be attracted to him, not as a conductor to a Sentinel, and certainly not as a woman to a man. But her innate honesty forced her to admit to herself that she was attracted to him; and worse, being around him seemed to be awakening a gaping loneliness within her.
Touched by Darkness – An Urban Fantasy Romance (Book 1, The Sentinel Series) Page 14
