Catherine Spangler - [Sentinel 02] - Touched By Fire (v5.0) (html) (14 page)

Kara presented a striking contrast to Damien. She was lovely, with a creamy complexion and luminous gray eyes that complemented her auburn hair. She was about Marla’s height, but probably twenty or thirty pounds lighter.

“Hello.” Marla managed a smile. She felt like an idiot, sitting there while these three stunning people towered over her, but she didn’t trust her legs yet.

“We just had a little fainting episode, and Marla is recovering,” Luke explained.

“Would you like me to have a look at you?” Kara asked. “I’m a doctor.”

“No, I’m fine. But thank you.”

“Marla is empathic, and can pick up the emotions of the Belian we’re tracking,” Luke said. “A few minutes ago, we stumbled onto where the Belian must have been standing when the bombs went off, and the energy broadsided her.”

Kara’s eyes widened. “That must be awful.”

“It’s terrible. And it’s happened three times now. This is the only one where I almost passed out.”

Damien’s pale blue gaze flashed over Marla before he turned to Luke. “Aren’t you shielding?”

“Of course I am, but it doesn’t appear to block Marla’s empathic abilities.”

“This is a first,” Damien mused, his gaze returning to Marla. She had the uncomfortable feeling he could see through all her protective layers, into the very depths of her soul. “Have you done a conduction yet?” he asked, still watching her.

Knowing what he assumed they’d have done during that, she felt the heat rising to her face. Luke answered before she could. “One conduction. And she picked up the emotions of the Belian and the victims and families.”

“I also heard the Belian talking,” she added.

Damien’s dark eyebrows rose. “You
heard
the Belian?”

Luke whipped toward her. “You didn’t tell me about that.”

“I’m sorry. It didn’t occur to me. I panicked when I felt the emotions and heard that voice. After I calmed down, it never came up.”

Kara shot a quick glance from Luke to Marla. “Why don’t you tell us now?”

“Well . . .” Marla tried to remember exactly what she’d heard. “The voice was soft . . . not very masculine, although it didn’t sound like a woman, either. It talked about the unjust and the wicked being punished. And then it said something about Belial and blood.” She rubbed her head, which had started aching. “I think that’s all.”

Damien looked at Luke. “I wouldn’t take her to any more Belian crime scenes. She’s too sensitive, and the Belian might pick up on her.”

“Well, hell, yeah. I know I shouldn’t have brought her here. But I was worried the Belian might have already tapped her, and I didn’t want to leave her alone. Damn!”

“And
she
is a real live person, and sitting right here,” Marla said, feeling like a bug under a microscope.

“You tell them.” Kara sat down on the bench beside her. “These guys sometimes get carried away with themselves.”

Damien gave a little snort. But his gaze, when it rested on Kara, was heated, devouring. Marla could practically feel the temperature around them rising to heat advisory levels. Man. Luke had been telling the truth about the fire between a matched Sentinel and conductor.

“So what’s the plan?” Kara asked.

“Luke and I will check out the BCS and work the psychic signature.”

“Go for it. I’ll sit here with Marla.”

The men strode away, both radiating masculinity and power. Marla blew out her breath. “Wow.”

“Pretty impressive, aren’t they? All Sentinel males are like that—overflowing with testosterone, protectiveness, and pure animal magnetism.”

“It’s a new experience for me. Luke is the first Sentinel I’ve met, and I didn’t even know they existed until about five days ago.”

“No wonder you’re a little shaky. It can be very overwhelming.”

“I’ll say.” Marla cleared her throat, wishing she knew this woman better. There was so much she wanted to know.

“So ask.” Kara leaned forward, squeezed her hand, compassion and understanding in her gray eyes. “I’m sure you have a lot of questions. I’ll be glad to answer what I can.”

“I don’t even know where to begin. When did you learn you’re a conductor?”

“When I met another Sentinel in Birmingham, over nine years ago. The attraction was powerful, but he didn’t tell me why until we’d dated a few months.”

It hadn’t occurred to Marla that Sentinels might fall in love with their conductors. “So you actually had a relationship with him?”

“Yes. Our connection was instantaneous.” Kara’s expression turned sad. “You’re probably too polite to ask, so I’ll tell you. He was killed seven years ago. By a Belian.”

A chill shot through Marla. Luke had told her Sentinels were mortal, but he seemed so vital and so competent, she hadn’t considered he could actually be killed. “How awful. I’m sorry.” She returned the hand squeeze. “But now you’re with Damien, and I understand you’re getting married. Congratulations.”

The luminous glow returned to Kara’s eyes. “Thank you.”

“Is it common for Sentinels to marry conductors?”

Kara shook her head. “No. For the most part, Sentinels are loners, and don’t have permanent relationships with anyone. What they do is very dangerous—for them, and for the conductors they work with, and any humans in a Belian’s path. But some Sentinels take mates, and some have children, which is how new Sentinels come into Earth.”

“I hadn’t even considered Sentinels being babies. It’s frustrating to know so little.”

“You’ll learn as you go. A Sentinel can only be born to a couple where at least one of them is a Sentinel. Damien says the Sentinel soul chooses where and when to enter the Earth,” Kara explained. “And the woman won’t get pregnant unless that’s the case. Traditional birth control won’t stop a Sentinel pregnancy. I thought I’d better warn you about that.”

Not that Marla had anything to worry about in that department. Luke refused to have sex with her during a conduction, and there was no way he’d be interested in her otherwise. She felt a surprising wave of disappointment. Typical human-nature case of wanting what you couldn’t have.

“Most conductors have psychic abilities, or are very sensitive to the energies around them,” Kara said. “You obviously have empathic abilities.”

“But I wasn’t born with them,” Marla blurted, and then considered kicking herself. As much as she liked Kara, she wasn’t ready to bare her soul about the attack on Julia. “At least, I didn’t begin sensing other people’s emotions until I was nineteen.”

“They were probably there all along, but just dormant. I began dreaming about events before they happened with I was four.”

“That must be unsettling.”

“It can be.” Kara leaned against the wall. “But we can’t change the cards we’re dealt when we’re born. All we can do is decide how to play those cards. Although the universe, or fate, has a way of directing the game.”

Marla thought again of how events had lined up to bring her to that bar stool next to Luke. “I believe you’re right about that. It’s like I was guided to Luke, or him to me.”

“Luke’s a great guy. You can trust him with your life.” Kara opened her purse and pulled out a card case. “Let me give you one of my business cards. I’ll write my home and cell numbers on the back. I hope you’ll call me if you ever need anything or have any more questions.”

“I will. Thank you.” Marla saw the men coming their way, their expressions hard and forbidding.

“Okay,” Luke said, stopping beside Marla. “We’re done here. Time to get to work.”

Marla slipped Kara’s business card into her purse and stood. “What now?”

“Conduction.” Damien took Kara’s arm. “We’ll each do one, then compare notes. Luke will take it from there.”

Another conduction. More grisly scenes and violence and pain and the Belian, not to mention burning sexual need. Marla could hardly wait.

And she wondered if the connection with the Belian, or the fire that had flared between her and Luke at the last conduction would be stronger this time. Because if it was, she’d either throw up or combust.

 

 

JULIA sat in her car, a sensible, older model Honda Accord, and tried to slow her pounding heart. She was so angry she was trembling. Adam Masters was one of the most infuriating and arrogant men she’d ever encountered. He was a pompous ass and a sleazeball, very similar to William Bennett’s slimy defense lawyer.

“No, that’s not true. His office supply store was near my home, and I was working on my doctorate, so I needed supplies for my classes. I did go there a lot but I never
—
”

Where had that trial memory come from? Julia never allowed herself to think about Bennett and that night, or the months that followed, and now she ruthlessly shoved the memory away. But, she decided, there wasn’t any difference between Bennett’s lawyer and Adam Masters. Both of them were lowlifes.

That didn’t diminish her reaction to Masters, however, or what to do about him. He knew something about Marla, Julia was sure of it. Her anger gave way to fear for her sister’s safety and concern that she might have mishandled Masters. But her instincts had gone on full alert the moment she saw the man.

He’d exuded danger, with his short black hair silvering at the temples, those inscrutable black eyes and the diamond stud in his left ear. His expensively cut designer suit hadn’t impressed her—she knew very well that monsters could hide behind a veneer of affluence and civility.

Damn it.
She was
not
going there again. She had worked too hard and too long to put the past behind her to let an unpleasant experience dredge it up again.

The encounter with Adam Masters had shaken her up badly, something she hadn’t experienced for years in her controlled, planned life. His looks and his odd, raspy voice had raised her hackles, but it was when they shook hands that the full reaction kicked in. She’d felt a startling rush of energy, almost like an electrical shock, and her heart went into overdrive.

It was as if her body recognized him in some primal way. She could only assume it was her survival instincts, honed by nearly dying eleven years ago, warning her of danger. She trusted her intuition more than any physical or social indications to the contrary.

She’d made the instant decision not to trust him, not to give him any more information than necessary. His hedging and evasiveness about Luke Paxton’s whereabouts further convinced her that she’d been right. But it hadn’t provided any information to help her find Paxton, or her sister.

She wasn’t sure what to do now, or if she had any legitimate leverage to use against Adam Masters. But she planned to contact the State of Texas Private Security Bureau. She’d also contact a lawyer and speak with the chief of police of the Corpus Christi Police Department.

One thing was certain—she wasn’t going to give up searching for Marla. And since she was convinced Adam Masters knew where Marla might be, she was going to hound him day and night.

NINE

LUKE brought Bryony back inside and bolted the door. She headed straight to the small desk and stood on her hind legs to sniff at the sacks of food they’d purchased on the way back to the hotel. “Hey! Get away from there,” he said, sending a small burst of energy at the poodle.

She dropped down and shook herself. With an indignant sniff, she trotted over to jump on the bed beside Marla, who was sitting against the headboard with her knees drawn up.

Luke’s stomach rumbled, and he looked longingly at the desk. “I don’t suppose you want anything to eat first?” he asked, then reconsidered. “No, probably not a good idea.”

“Probably not. Until I met you, I hadn’t had stomach problems in years. The last time I can remember throwing up was when I was a kid and caught one of those twenty-four-hour viruses. But I seem to get sick around you. What does that tell you, Paxton?”

He heard the nervousness in her voice, understood she was trying to keep things light. A lot of women would have vocalized their fears or complained about having their entire world turned on its end. Marla had done neither, and he respected her for that.

“I have to go and find a conductor who’s a smart-ass.” He took off his jacket, hung it over a chair. “Listen, before we get started, there’s something we need to discuss.”

“Can I ask you a question first?”

“Shoot.”

“Have you ever been involved with any of your conductors?”

Whoa.
What had motivated that question from out of the blue? “As in emotionally involved?” he asked cautiously. “Like dating?”

“Yes.” She angled her head, pinned him with those honey-toned eyes. “Like Damien and Kara.”

Ah, hell.
He took a deep breath, went to sit on the edge of the opposite bed. “No, I’ve don’t get involved. Ever. Not with conductors, or anyone else. Commitment is something many Sentinels avoid.”

She dropped her legs to the side, turned toward him. “But if you don’t, how can you bring more Sentinels to Earth? Kara said Sentinels are born to couples when at least one of them is a Sentinel. I couldn’t imagine you—or Damien, for that matter—fathering a child and walking away.”

“Thanks for the vote of confidence. You’re right. We cherish and nurture our children and pass along our heritage. As odd as it may sound, a Sentinel pregnancy apparently doesn’t occur unless the couple is committed to one another. To the best of my knowledge, I’ve never fathered a child, and I don’t believe I ever will. Many Sentinels keep to themselves. What we do is just too damned dangerous. A lot of us die fighting Belians, and I have to tell you, so do some conductors. It’s just safer not to get involved.”

“I understand. Some things hurt too much.”

The sadness in her voice tugged at his heart, and he knew she was talking about more than whether or not he was capable of a commitment. She had her own secrets that she was unwilling to share.

“You’ve got that right,” he said, and felt the flare of his own grief. One life snuffed out had irreparably altered four other lives, and he would never again submit himself, or anyone else, to that. “Some things do hurt too much.”

He leaned forward, willing her to understand. “Marla, don’t read anything into what you and I are doing. We have a Sentinel/conductor relationship, nothing more. It can never be anything else.”

She stared back at him, all solemn and self-contained. Despite what he’d just said, he wanted to take her in his arms and kiss her until her barriers crumbled, until they both forgot the pain.
Damn.
This was crazy, and so not going to happen. But he needed her too badly to walk away, even if it put her at risk.

He was extremely worried about the threat to her. He and Damien had discussed it at length, and agreed the main concern was ensuring the Belian didn’t sense Marla and try to hunt her. There was already enough risk that she could be injured or killed during routine tracking.

“Marla, I can’t guarantee that I can shield you from this Belian. You’re apparently a very strong empath, and you might also be a transmitter, and therefore transmitting to it. Most humans can’t create and maintain the type of psychic shields Sentinels can. Most Belians can also shield themselves, which is why it’s so damned hard to track them. It’s a mystery as to how you’re able to pick up on this one. I know it’s well shielded, or I’d have a better fix on it.”

Her chest rose and fell, and her fingers clutched the bedspread. “So if you can’t shield me, and if I’m transmitting, as you put it, then the Belian could be picking up on me?”

“Yes. It could sense your presence, could realize that you’re probing and looking for it.”

“So I could lead it straight to you?”

He couldn’t believe she was thinking of him instead of her own safety. “I hope that brings it on. Better that it focus on me than murder more innocents. But my point here is that this puts
you
at extra risk. The Belian could focus on you instead. That’s a dangerous position for a human to be in.”

She looked down, smoothed the bunched-up bedspread. “Are you suggesting we stop the conductions?”

“I wish we could do that, I really do. But I need your help more than ever. I do have to warn you of the danger, and to make it clear that your cooperation is voluntary. I can’t force you to do this.”

She raised her head, looked him in the eye. “But you still think conductions are necessary to catch this monster?”

“They’re the only resource we have right now. I give you my word I will do everything in my power to keep you safe.”

“So this is just the disclosure statement and waiver of liability and indemnity?”

He smiled, in spite of the situation. “Yeah. Something like that.”

A spark of humor flared in her eyes. “Do I have to sign anything before we begin this conduction?”

He choked back a laugh. “You really are a smart-ass.”

“Better to laugh than cry.” Her eyes became sober again. “I’m not backing down, Luke. There are a lot of monsters out there, maybe not all of them Belians, but they’re there. Someone has to stop them, before they hurt anyone else.”

She was speaking of her personal experience again, he was certain of it. She carried a virtual arsenal of weapons in her purse, had some training in self-defense (he had bruises and scars to attest to that).

Something
had happened to make her resort to those measures. Maybe she’d trust him enough to confide in him one of these days. Except he’d be long gone. He was real sorry about that. She was one classy lady.

He held out his hand. “Ready?”

“Not really. But I guess we’d better get to it.” She slid her feet off the bed, and he saw her toenails were a sexy, pale pink. Her coral-toned turtleneck caressed her generous curves, and her curly hair framed her face in soft disarray. She was all woman, despite her self-enforced celibacy.

He pushed back the wave of nonconduction lust that slid through him. This would not do. Not only was Marla off limits, but he had to focus on keeping her safe and tracking the Belian.

With a shrill bark, Bryony whipped around into Marla’s lap and gave Luke the evil eye. “Hey baby,” Marla cooed, stroking the wiry fur. “You want to help?”

Trying to ignore the thought of how it would feel to have Marla stroking him that way, Luke said, “We’d better put her in the bathroom, or she might interfere.”

“You’re right.” Marla rose, cradling Bryony in her arms. “Poor baby. I’m so sorry to do this to you.” She put the dog in the bathroom and closed the door, then returned to sit on the edge of the bed opposite Luke. The sound of scratching then an indignant bark came from behind the door.

“I’m afraid I’ve spoiled her.” Marla took off her glasses, placed them on the nightstand. Despite the lines of strain on her face, her eyes were clear and calm. “I’ll do my best not to break the link this time, but it’s difficult to maintain when I feel and hear the Belian.”

“Just try to hold on to my hands until I release you.” He held out his right hand. “Give me your left hand, while I do the shielding.”

She rubbed her palms on her jeans, and then offered her hand. Her skin was cool and smooth, and he wrapped his fingers around her hand. He held the crystal in his left hand, closed his eyes, focused and chanted the ancient words of supplication, which basically translated to:
Being of Light, surround us in your love and protection. Shield us from all that is not of the Light. Guide us to vision and truth, so that we may serve the Light.

A near blinding, golden glow burst through his mind, behind his eyelids. He felt the power move through him, and around them.

“Whatever you’re doing, I can feel it.”

“That’s good.” He hoped it would offer enough protection. “Give me your other hand now.”

She did, and they barely closed the connection before the energies exploded without any prompting from him. More brilliant light, along with heat, flowed through him. He felt the crystal pulsing with power against his chest, felt his body pitch and sway.

Earth fell away, and he was airborne, flying through a wall of mist—the veil—that separated lifetimes. Sapphire blue water flowed beneath him, surrounding the green beauty of Atlantis. All his lifetimes merged together and stretched before him. Another starburst of light flashed behind his eyes, igniting the seeking.

Then the sexual surge hit, potent and intense. Fingers of fire licked upward through his abdomen. He was instantly hard, his erection straining painfully against his jeans. He felt Marla jolt, heard her gasp. Her arousal created a tantalizing scent that threatened his sanity. He battled the red haze, the powerful urge to tear his clothes off and bury himself inside her lush body.

“First two chakras open,” he managed to say, his voice harsh.

“This is fun,” she muttered.

He started to smile, but the energy shot up to his midriff, worse than the burn from a hundred sit-ups. Bright yellow flared in his mind then morphed into green as the burn moved into his chest. “Through the four lower chakras,” he said. Not that it helped anything; the sexual need was a clawing, living thing, voracious in its hunger and demands. He half expected his jeans to burst open, would have welcomed the relief from the agonizing pressure.

Marla gripped his hands so hard, he could feel her nails scoring his skin, but she was hanging in there. The energy moved to the throat, the blue color that followed soothing a little, but he knew it was just the lull before the fireworks. “Get ready,” he murmured.

Sharp pain flashed dead center in his head, along with a blanket of indigo swirls. Marla jerked, almost let go. He tightened his grip. “Easy now. Stay with me, babe.”

“I’m trying,” she gasped, jumped again. “Oh, God!”

The seventh chakra had just burst open with an audible pop. Brilliant light poured into his head, along with a thousand megawatt jolt of power. “We’re in. Hang on for the ride.”

The energy gathered, coiled, and began snaking through the chakras in a figure eight pattern, faster and faster. It whipped his body into a rocking motion, as the brilliant chakra colors flashed in alternating bursts behind his eyelids. A high-pitched howling started up from the bathroom.

And through it all was the burning sexual need, emanating the denser energy closest to the vibratory level of the Belian. He had to fight the ancient, instinctive urge to pin Marla to the bed and pound himself into her until they were both senseless. Had to push aside the primal need in order to focus on the images flashing faster than the blink of an eye.

He could sense her own struggle, felt the racing of her pulse beneath his fingers, heard her labored breathing. And he could feel horror and fear rolling off her in great waves; knew she must be picking up on the Belian. Bryony’s howls cranked up to a feverish pitch.

“No,” she whispered. “I don’t know if I can . . . do . . . this.”

He took on the additional strain of trying to strengthen the shield, while balancing the energies and absorbing the images. “Just hang on . . . almost there.”

She soldiered on, but he felt her anguish, knew she was barely holding on. It was he who finally broke the link by letting go of her right hand. “Almost done,” he said.

He maintained his grip on her other hand as he mentally began releasing the energies, directing them away from his and Marla’s bodies, and dispersing them back into the ether. Outside of a sexual climax, this was the safest and best way to release the buildup. The howls in the bathroom stopped, followed by a few whimpers, then silence.

Finally he dropped her other hand and drew back. “We did it.”

“God.” She collapsed on the bed, drawing her legs up until she was in a ball. “It was awful.”

He ignored his still-raging need and moved over to her. “You’re all right. You’re safe. It’s over.” Sitting on the edge of the bed, he smoothed her tangled hair back from her clammy skin, framed her face in his hands. “Open your eyes, Marla. Look at me.”

She did, and her pupils were so dilated, her eyes looked black. Her face was colorless. He sent a flood of warming, calming energy into her, concentrated on the darkness lurking in her mind and burned it away with pure light. Tension coiled in her chest, and he directed energy there. “Breathe,” he ordered, and she took a shuddering breath.

He ran his hands over her arms. “How’s the stomach?”

She sagged against the pillow. “I think it’s okay, for now.”

“Good to know.” He went to work on her headache, placing his hands over her temples, and sending more calming energy into her head.

“That feels much better,” she murmured. “Thank you.”

But her breasts were still taut beneath the turtleneck. He knew she was wet between her legs, could sense her readiness. He wanted to strip off her jeans; to dip his fingers and tongue into her sweetness; to sate himself in her curvy warmth. He knew instinctively that she would let him, and that he could get lost in her.
Not a good idea.
He stood hastily, intending to put a safe distance between them.