Just another reminder of a past that was long gone. Damien strode to Kara’s bedroom, mentally opening the door. She murmured again when he placed her on the bed and slipped off her shoes. Her toenails were painted a glossy red, a feminine touch that sent another punch of desire through him. Damn, he definitely needed to get laid—but that required a willing party.
Determinedly he pulled the comforter and bedding from beneath her, and resettled it over her. She curled onto her side and sighed. Her auburn hair fanned over the pillow like flowing silk. She looked vulnerable and innocent—and sexy as hell. And very human, Damien reminded himself. Off-limits, except for conductions, and that was another murky issue.
He headed to the kitchen, where he and Mac would share dinner and celebrate their bachelorhood. Then, if the lust ravaging his body hadn’t abated, he’d take another cold shower.
* * * *
The next morning, Kara stepped out of examining room three and walked into the nearby nurse’s alcove to make a few notes on Betty Libby’s chart. Mrs. Libby was the grandmother of one of Alex’s soccer buddies, and was often at soccer games. Seeing the elderly lady had nudged Kara’s thoughts of Alex into even higher gear. He’d only been gone one day, and she missed him terribly.
“Dr. Kara? Are you at the nurse’s station?” came Bonnie’s voice over the intercom. The receptionist had an amazing sixth sense when it came to knowing where Kara was at all times.
“You tracked me down, as usual.”
“Chief Greer is on the phone. Line one.”
Kara didn’t think any phone call from Tom Greer could be good. She strode to her office, fingering the small metal cylinder in the pocket of her white coat. Pepper spray, courtesy of Damien. She’d gone outside early this morning and practiced the correct way to hold it, flip up the plastic shield, and discharge it. She just hoped an innocent patient didn’t make a wrong move; her nerves were frayed to the point she felt like she might snap at the least little thing.
She picked up line one. “Hello, Chief.”
“Kara. I have some news.”
She took a deep breath. “What have you got?”
“The Travis County medical examiner’s report on Doris Burgess came in this morning.”
Kara fumbled for the chair behind her desk, slipped into it. “What did it say?”
“Miz Burgess died from an overdose of insulin. Seems she got confused. Maybe she forgot she’d already taken her shot.”
“An overdose?” Kara shook her head. “That’s not possible.”
“Well, that’s what happened.”
“But Doris was very careful with her medicine.”
“She was an old lady!” Tom snapped. “And old folks forget sometimes. Hell, I forget lots of things. It was an accidental overdose, doctor. So ruled by the chief medical examiner.”
Kara wanted to argue, to insist Doris would never forget her medicine, to tell Tom she knew Doris had been murdered. But she held back, knowing he’d either never believe her, or he’d know exactly what she was talking about. For all she knew, he was the Belian. The thought chilled her to the core. “Has Doris’s family been notified?” she asked.
“I reckon they have. The ME’s office keeps up with that stuff.” Tom’s gruff voice softened. “I’m sorry, Dr. Kara. I know you really cared for Miz Burgess.”
“Would you mind faxing me a copy of the coroner’s report? For her file.”
“I reckon. What’s the number?”
Kara gave it to him, then hung up. She stared at the phone a long time, thinking she’d never feel safe again.
* * * *
“Doris would never mix up her insulin or give herself an overdose,” Kara told Damien that night. “She was too sharp and too careful.”
They were at the kitchen table, eating stew he’d started that morning in the Crock- Pot which she hadn’t even known she had. Tonight, he’d pulled more of the tossed salad out of the fridge, and heated store-bought biscuits. The stew was delicious. Kara decided he could take Luz’s place in a pinch, although she hadn’t observed his housecleaning skills yet.
It felt very strange having him ensconced in her home, with his laptop and briefcase commandeering the dining room table, his suitcase in Alex’s room, and his toiletries in the main bathroom. The house smelled of aftershave, sandalwood, and primal male. It had been so long since she lived with Richard, she’d forgotten the sensual perks of having a man around.
She didn’t think she would be so intrigued with just any man, but then Damien was no ordinary male. She couldn’t help but wonder what it would be like to have him sleeping in her bed, to be able to reach out, touch bare skin stretched over taut muscles.
She pulled back from her thoughts, shocked. Two people were dead and a Belian was stalking the citizens of Zorro, and here she was, daydreaming about sex. She looked over at Damien.
He was reading the coroner’s report on Doris, his ebony brows drawn together and making his sculpted face look even fiercer. “This was no accident,” he growled. “But then we already knew that.” He put the report to the side, dug into the stew. “You’re preaching to the choir here.”
“I know.” She set her fork down, no longer hungry. “So what do we do now?”
“You will eat. You haven’t had a solid meal in the past two days.” Damien sat back in his chair, his gaze steady on her. “As for the Belian, all we can do at this point is wait for it to make another move.”
Kara had a bad feeling they wouldn’t have to wait long.
The evening progressed quickly, with kitchen cleanup, a call to Alex and her parents, and reviewing another stack of lab reports. Even though she was exhausted when she finally fell into bed, she tossed and turned, haunted by dark, violent memories and a premonition something terrible was about to happen. She finally drifted into a fitful sleep…
A man was walking away from her. He was outside, and it was nighttime. The breeze ruffled his thick hair; with the moonlight reflecting off it, it appeared to be brown or dark blond. He wore a heavy suede jacket over Wrangler jeans. His shoulders were broad, and he moved with a slightly unsteady gait, like he was stiff or injured.
A sound rustled behind him, and he stopped, turned his head slightly to look over his shoulder. She could only see part of his face, and that was blurred in the darkness. But he was so familiar, she was certain she knew him.
“Oh, it’s you,” he said. “Whadda you want?” His voice, again familiar, was slurred.
He jerked impatiently and turned fully toward her, but the shadows obscured his face. She knew him, she was certain. But she couldn’t figure out who he was.
“Look, I’m sorry about everything,” he said. “But I already told you…” He paused, belched. He was drunk—that must be why his words were slurred.
“I’ve given you all I can.” He raised his hands, staggered. “You’ll have to settle for that. I’m sorry it’s worked out this way. But that’s it. It’s over. No más.”
An arm came up, pointing toward him. The arm was encased in a bulky sleeve, and it took a moment for her to realize that whoever it was held a gun in his black-leather-gloved hand. Black malevolence radiated around the arm. No! Not this!
The first man’s reaction was slow, probably blunted by alcohol. He squinted at the gun pointing toward him for a moment. “Whoa there!” He stumbled back a step. “What the hell are you doing?”
No answer, just the gun steadily pointing at him in silent menace. She already knew what was going to happen. Please, God, stop this. Stop this thing now.
“Hey!” the man said, alarm edging his voice. “You can’t be serious. After all I’ve done for you? We go way back. Why are you doin’ this?
The black-gloved thumb cocked the trigger. “Wait!” he shouted. “I’ll do more. I’ll—”
The blast hit him right between the eyes. Blood and brain matter flew toward her, splattering as if hitting a glass wall, obscuring her vision. All she could see was red, crawling do
wnward in a sickening pattern.
She knew the man hadn’t survived the shot between the eyes. And the blood, the blood…
She heard the screams without realizing they were hers. She felt hands on her shoulders, gripping them tightly. “Kara! Kara, wake up!”
“No!” she cried, trying to wrench away. She couldn’t let it catch her, or it would kill her, too. “Let me go!”
“Kara, it’s just a dream. Open your eyes.”
She did, but everything was blurry. All she could see was a sinister dark shape bending over her. It had found her. Panic resurged, and she kicked wildly and rolled to the side.
“Kara!” Hands clamped onto her shoulders again, pinned her to the mattress. “It’s me, Damien. You’re in your house, in your bed. You’re safe.”
Lucid thought seeped slowly into her consciousness, and she sank down. Damien released her and stood back. Light streamed in from the hallway, illuminating the lower end of the bed. But her surroundings didn’t seem real. She felt like she was still in that horrifying other world.
“Oh, God. Damien, I saw it.”
He sat on the edge of the bed. “Saw what?”
“Another murder.” She struggled to sit upright, and he angled the pillow behind her so she could lean back.
“Tell me everything.” His low voice was utterly calm and devoid of emotion.
“I saw the back of a man. He was outside, wearing a suede coat. He was staggering a little, and his words were slurred. I think he’d been drinking. I felt certain I knew him, but I couldn’t see his face.”
She took a deep breath to calm her stomach, closed her eyes. The dream flashed back into her mind, the grotesque splatter of blood and matter sliding slowly down the invisible barrier. Gasping, she opened her eyes.
“What is it?”
“It’s like I’m still linked somehow to the place.” She raised a trembling hand to push her hair from her face. “Or…to the Belian." Her whole body began shaking then, as if she had a horrendous chill.
Damien’s hand went to the crystal resting against his chest. She belatedly realized he wasn’t wearing a shirt, just a pair of jeans that weren’t snapped, but she was too shell-shocked to appreciate the impressive masculine view. Holding the crystal, he closed his eyes. Energy, fueled from unimaginable power, surged and circled around them.
Kara felt a faint tingling flow along her skin and knew she was enveloped in a protective Sentinel shield. She managed to draw in a breath, tried to relax. But the shaking didn’t ease.
“You’re safe. The Belian can’t reach you through the ethereal now. And on the physical plane, it will have to go through me to get to you. Tell me the rest of the dream.”
She did, and then he made her tell him everything again. “You can’t think of any other details that might tell us who this man is or where this took place?”
She thought it through, shook her head. “No, I can’t.” She wrapped her arms around herself to still the shaking.
“You’re fairly certain the dream was accurate?”
She nodded, feeling both miserable and frustrated. “I know it is. And it probably just happened. Shouldn’t we call the police and tell them? Maybe the man is still alive.” She thought of all the blood and brain matter she’d seen. “No, he’s not.”
“If you can’t identify the man in your dream, or the place where it occurred, there’s not much we can do. We can’t just call the authorities and tell them we ‘think’ a murder has occurred, but we don’t know where. We’ll have to wait until it’s reported.”
He stood, leaving her feeling oddly vulnerable. “I have a police scanner set up in Alex’s room. I’ll keep listening through the night. Once the body is discovered, we can take action.”
Kara looked at the clock by her bed, the red fluorescent numerals reminding her of the blood. Twelve forty-four in the morning. Funny, it seemed she’d been asleep longer than that. Another big chill rolled through her.
Damien tugged the comforter up around her. “You all right?”
She hated being needy. She and Alex had been completely on their own up until now, and had done just fine. But she still had that sick feeling and the violent shaking.
“I’m cold. And I’m scared.” She hesitated, pride warring with fear, but she didn’t want to be alone tonight. “Please stay with me a little longer.”
“Let me get the scanner and set it up here.”
She was inordinately relieved. Right now, she felt like an easily spooked child instead of the rational adult she prided herself on being. She’d feel foolish in the morning, but in the aftermath of the dream and in the dark bowels of the night, she was grateful for Damien’s steady presence.
He returned a moment later with the scanner. It was smaller than the radio scanner Richard had used, but then technology was seven years more advanced. Damien set it up on the nightstand on the opposite side of the bed and turned it on. It emitted a burst of faint static.
He settled onto the bed, sitting against the headboard, his legs crossed at the ankles. He was still barefooted, but he had pulled on a black T-shirt that fit him like a second skin, stretching across an impressive display of muscles.
His beautiful physique wasn’t enough to distract her from the nausea, cold, and uncontrollable shaking. It was all she could do to keep her teeth from chattering.
He finished setting the scanner, looked down at her. “Are you better?”
“A little.” She clutched the comforter as another spasm of shivering racked her. “I j-just can’t seem to stop shaking.”
“Shock, probably.” He watched her, a furrow between his brows.
“It was just a d-d-dream,” she muttered, dismayed at her lack of control over her body.
“It was more than that. And you can have dream shock.” He stood, slid beneath the covers. “Maybe I can get you warm.”
She curled against him without hesitation, grateful for the heat emanating from his large body, even as she was aware of the erotic electricity that arched around them. She realized her hands were clenching his T-shirt, and released it.
He closed his arms around her, and she felt safe and secure. She hadn’t been held like this in a long time. He felt so solid, and his warmth and scent wrapped around her like a soft blanket.
“I didn’t react this way to the last dream,” she said.
“The connection with the Belian is stronger now that we’ve linked twice with its energy.”
His hand began moving up and down her back in slow, steady strokes. Some of his heat seeped into her chilled body. With a sigh, she relaxed a little. He kept stroking, and she felt oddly comforted.
“Thank you,” she murmured.
His hand stilled. “For?”
“For staying with me. For giving me comfort.”
His hand resumed its stroking. “Don’t expect that from me, Kara. I’m no good at emotional things. It’s best if you remember what I am—an assassin. I serve The One, but that doesn’t change what I do.”
She didn’t accept his declaration that he didn’t care. He had also given of himself last night, touching her with surprising gentleness, even if it had been sexual. Or had it? His words flashed into her mind: “Ah, hell, Kara. This was necessary for your well- being.”
She realized now he was trying to take care of her, as best he knew how. That understanding evaporated the anger she’d felt about last night. She knew from personal experience that caring and nurturing was a struggle for a loner Sentinel. Denying that they were emotionally involved was also a part of the persona. But they did feel—very deeply—for the humans in their charge. The God they served, The One, imbued them with light and compassion and a powerful sense of justice.
She snuggled closer to him, the shivering finally gone. “Thank you for caring.”
“Maybe you should focus on getting some rest,” he said gruffly, obviously deciding to ignore the issue.
She listened to the slow, steady cadence of hi
s heart. “I can’t stop thinking about that poor man in the dream.”
“Relax, and go to sleep.” His voice took on a hypnotic lull.
She felt her eyelids growing heavy, despite her conviction she could never sleep tonight. Already, she was drifting toward oblivion. She wondered if he was using a mental push, but was too drowsy to protest.
“You won’t dream again tonight.”
She knew then he was putting her under. That was her last thought, as a soft, welcome darkness enveloped her.
She was jarred from the void when someone called her name. What—
“Kara, wake up now.”
The urgency in that voice cut through her sleep like a hot knife through soft butter. She snapped awake, saw Damien above her, his expression fierce. “What is it?” She pushed herself up.
“They’ve found a body at Jim’s Tavern.”
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
“The tavern?” Still groggy, she shoved her hair from her face. Voices crackling from the other side of the bed drew her attention to the police scanner. She looked back at Damien, realized he had pulled on a sweater and had his boots in his hand.
“Police reports are coming in, officers and emergency vehicles are being dispatched. Someone saw a lone vehicle in the parking lot behind the tavern, and went to investigate. That’s when the body was discovered. We need to get over there.”
The memory of her dream rushed back to her. “Do they know who it is?”
“No name was given. Come on.”
She looked at the clock as she slid out of the bed: 6:02 A.M. Shivering again, she yanked down the long T-shirt she slept in and went to the dresser to get some jeans. “Give me a few minutes, and I’ll be ready to go.”
“Hurry. I’d like to get there before a lot of people arrive and energies get mixed.”
Oh, gee, and she couldn’t wait to see the carnage.
Damien got them there in record time without wrecking his car or running over anyone, for which Kara was grateful. Her nerves were tied in knots, but a part of her was glad he included her. It would have been far more stressful to wait at home, not knowing anything.
The police and emergency vehicles had drawn a small crowd, even at this ungodly hour. The flashing red and blue lights looked garish against the morning gloom. She saw there were two Blanco County sheriff cars, in addition to the two City of Zorro police cruisers, an ambulance, and several pickup trucks. Damien parked the car as close as they could get, about two blocks from Jim’s Tavern. He got out without a word and moved toward the scene in a ground-eating stride, his duster flapping around his long legs. Kara had to jog to keep up.
Touched by Darkness – An Urban Fantasy Romance (Book 1, The Sentinel Series) Page 20
