Catherine Spangler - [Sentinel 02] - Touched By Fire (v5.0) (html) (15 page)

She grabbed his arm, struggled to sit up. “No. Stay here. Please.” She came upright, pressed herself against his midriff, her body perilously close to where his jeans tented out. “Please hold me for a minute.”

Guessing she’d brushed up against the Belian’s mind again, understanding she needed comfort, he resigned himself to the torment for a little longer. Sending a prayer to The One for self-control, he sat on the bed.

She immediately cuddled against him. “It was like a nightmare, only worse,” she whispered. “First I felt him, gloating again. Proud of himself, enjoying the destruction. Standing there outside the dorm, watching the smoke and the injured students running out of the building. Luke, it turned him on.”

“Yeah, I know. I saw it fondling itself.”

She shuddered. “I saw that, too. Now I know I wouldn’t like porn movies.”

He went for a little levity. “Sure you would. A true porn movie involves gorgeous naked women and well-endowed, handsome studs.”

She shook her head against his chest. “You’re such a guy.”

That was 110 percent true at the moment, as his rock-hard erection was reminding him. He shifted, trying to ease some of the pressure. “What happened next?”

“Then he looked right at me. At least I think he was looking at me. It was like one of those investigative reporting shows where they interview an informant, but blur the face so the person can’t be identified. All I could see was a wavering oval where his face would have been.”

“
Its
face,” he corrected. “I know it looks like a human, but you have to keep reminding yourself that it’s not. Damien and I saw a blurred face, too, when we read the crime scene on the campus today. That’s typical. Belians can’t avoid leaving behind energy patterns, as all living things do, but they can shield the energy to some extent. When a Sentinel visits a BCS, he or she can generally see how the crime happened, but not a clear visual of the Belian.”

“Well, doesn’t that just suck?”

He wished she hadn’t used that particular word—it brought to mind an image that had nothing to do with Belians, and everything to do with her enticing mouth. “Ah, yeah, it does. That’s why we have to do conductions. Anything else?”

“Yes.” She shuddered again, held on more tightly. “It looked right at me, and it said:
I know you’re there, woman. I know you’re watching me. You can see how smart and how clever I am, can’t you? You admire me. Just wait. There will be more explosions. More blood.
It said it like I should be
impressed
with what it was doing.”

Shock barreled through Luke.
Damn it!
This was far worse than he had feared. The Belian had not only locked onto Marla, but it was able to communicate directly with her. A basic psychic link only facilitated awareness of another being at the other end of the link; it didn’t include telepathy.

He had never heard of a Belian communicating in such a manner with a conductor or a Sentinel. He didn’t know all the ramifications, but he knew it would make it very difficult to keep Marla safe. He had to talk to Adam about this. There had to be some way to teach her how to block mental intrusions from the Belian.

For now he simply asked, “Was that it?”

“That’s all I can remember. It was the same voice as before, soft, not very masculine. But not a woman. I’m almost positive it’s in a man’s body.”

“I’m sorry you have to come so close to this evil. Dealing with a Belian is nasty business.”
And this Belian was about to discover that dealing with Luke was an extremely ugly experience.

“You do it on a regular basis,” Marla pointed out.

“I’m used to it. You’re not, and you didn’t ask for this assignment.”

“Oh, that’s right—you volunteered me.”

“Such a smart-ass.” He felt the tightness in his chest easing. “Have you always been this way?”

She leaned back to look up at him. “Since middle school. I was frumpy and nerdy and didn’t fit in with any of the cliques or groups. I learned that being funny got me some attention and some acceptance. I became the class clown. So now, whenever I’m tense or nervous, I make smart-aleck remarks. Sorry.”

“No, that’s good. Humor can be good. It’s gotten us this far. We did pretty well on the conduction. You didn’t break the link, and you haven’t thrown up yet. I think we’re making progress.”

“I guess. I am feeling better now.” She moved away from him and leaned against the headboard, but she was still deathly pale, and there were dark circles beneath her eyes. “Thanks for indulging me. What about the images I saw?”

“Let’s sort through them.” He rose and went to let Bryony out of the bathroom. As he expected, the poodle immediately went to Marla and climbed in her lap. He was concerned that she might still be shaky, and he hoped Bry would offer some comfort.

He sat on the other bed. “I saw a blurred face, but I also saw hands taking the bombs from the backpack, placing them where they wouldn’t be seen.”

“I saw glimpses of that,” Marla said. “Weren’t there stairs?”

“Yeah. It put the incendiaries in stairwells, so people would be trapped by the fire. The bastard. I also saw what I believe were remote detonators. Then I saw jeans and athletic shoes. I think we got images from two different events—the first, when the Belial was planting the bombs; the second when it was detonating them. I don’t think they were done at the same time.”

“Detonators. So that’s what those were. They looked like garage door openers.” Marla hugged Bryony against her; he noticed her hands were trembling. “It’s funny—during the conduction, the images flash so fast, I don’t know what they are. But when you mention them, I realize that’s what I saw.”

“That’s how it works. I can store the images like a video that I can play back.”

She scratched behind the poodle’s ears. “What else was there?”

“The blue Tercel again.”

She nodded. “Yes, I saw that. No license plate?”

“Not that I saw. Did you see the atlas? It was open to Texas, and there was a line drawn north along Interstate 35.”

Marla leaned over Bryony, got her glasses, and put them on. “I remember a vague image of the map, but not the drawn line.”

“I-35 runs through Dallas. I’m thinking this thing is choosing sizable cities. It’s easier to avoid discovery, and if you’re a bomber, you’re going for body count. My guess would be that the next target is in Dallas.”

“But you don’t know that for sure.”

“No. But I don’t think this Belian will stay in one place. I’d just hate to go to Dallas and have something else happen here.”

“Basically, this means we don’t have any clues about the Belian’s actual target. We have to wait until there’s another explosion.”

She’d hit the nail on the head, and he felt the rage building inside him. “I’d say that sums it up.”

“So that’s it?” she asked, her expression troubled. “There’s nothing else we can do right now?”

“Damien and Kara are doing a conduction, too. Let’s see what they come up with.” He stood and stretched. “Should we flip to see who gets to take a cold shower first?”

Her gaze drifted lower to the bulge in his jeans. “Maybe you should do the honors. That looks painful.”

He grinned. She really was entertaining. “You’re right about that. You going to be okay?”

She managed a wan smile. “I’m fine. Really.”

“I won’t be long. Don’t eat all the food.”

She arched her brows. “Better shower fast.”

 

 

HE’D been a loner all his life. His parents, supposedly the social match of the century, had hated each other’s guts and divorced when he was only three. Neither situation—a child nor a divorce—had affected their oh-so-busy schedules, which were crammed with corporate meetings for his father, and social and charitable events for his mother. There was plenty of money for nannies and tutors and boarding schools, which effectively dealt with the inconvenience of his existence.

His parents had never been affectionate, and his first nanny had been the same woman who’d cared for his father. She was old school, didn’t believe in holding babies because it might spoil them. And when children got older, making them sit for hours in the corner, restrained with corded curtain ties, taught them obedience.

By the time the old bitch died when he was five, he had an aversion to being touched by anyone. While some of the successive nannies had tried to be demonstrative, they gave up after he continuously bit and pinched them.

Boarding school took care of that problem and suited him, as it allowed him to keep to himself. He was too smart, too special, to associate with the other boys, far too mature for their asinine pastimes. He was also smarter than his teachers, so he had to educate himself when he wasn’t in class.

No one had ever appreciated his brilliance. His grades certainly hadn’t reflected his off-the-chart intelligence. But then what could one expect from moronic instructors?

He’d done better at Cal Tech, but again, he’d had to teach himself, because the professors weren’t in his league. Not finding anyone worthy of his respect, he’d continued to remain aloof and alone through the passing years.

But now
she
was watching him. He was impressed that she was able to reach out to him, and at the same time, strengthen his own outstanding abilities to the point that he could mentally communicate with her. He could sense her intelligence, her awareness, her warmth. For the first time in his life, he thought he might be able to connect with another person.

He even felt stirrings of desire, which he’d only ever felt when he blew up things. He might actually be able to fuck this woman—and enjoy it.

He intended to track her down and find out.

TEN

ADAM called while Luke was in the shower, taking care of business, something he didn’t usually have to do. He preferred the old fashioned way, he thought wryly.

Marla knocked on the bathroom door. “Your cell phone’s ringing,” she called out. “Do you want me to get it?”

Great timing.
“Just let it go,” Luke called back. “I’ll take care of it when I get out.” He knew it would either be Damien or Adam, and that whoever had called, it was important.

He finished showering, dried off, and slipped back into his jeans. Blotting his hair with a smaller towel, he strode into the main room and picked up his cell phone. Marla was on the bed with Bryony, and the food was untouched. Her gaze slid over him like a warm wave.
Shit.
He really didn’t want another cold shower.

“Let me return this call, and we’ll eat.” He turned away so he wouldn’t be further affected by her golden gaze. Seeing Adam’s number on the phone display, he punched the callback then strode over to part the drapes and stare out at the fading day.

“Hey, Adam. What’s up?”

“I wanted to know if you had any results. I assume you did the conduction.”

“Yeah, we did.” Luke recapped what he and Marla had seen and what she’d heard. “The Belian has not only locked onto her, but it’s communicating telepathically with her. Have you ever heard of that happening?”

“No, I haven’t. This is a startling development.”

“I’d say that’s an understatement. There’s got to be some way for Marla to shield or block those communications. I want to start working with her on that.”

“No, don’t do that yet,” Adam said slowly. “This might be to our advantage.”

Luke didn’t like the sound of that. Using Marla as a lure to draw the Belian was far too risky. “It’s damn sure not to Marla’s advantage. It’s downright dangerous.” He paused, aware she could hear the conversation, lowered his voice. “What happened to our creed of protecting the innocent?”

“I don’t like putting Ms. Reynolds directly in the Belian’s path any more than you do. But this thing is killing whole groups of people,
all
of them innocent. If I have to weigh the risk to one person against the lives of many, the choice is clear.”

“Like hell!”

“Luke.” There was a wealth of warning in Adam’s quiet tone. “You’ll just have to keep her protected. Things always happen for a reason. We can’t ignore this development or miss such an opportunity.”

Not for the first time, Luke thought the guy must have ice water instead of blood in his veins. He’d never been totally certain that Adam, or any of the Sanctioned, was truly human.

“Luke? Did you hear what I said?”

He pinched the bridge of his nose. “Yeah. I heard you. It’s funny, but Marla basically said the same thing, that maybe the Belian was supposed to sense her.”

“Astute. Like her sister.”

“Like her . . .” Luke turned to look at Marla. “Sister?”

She came to attention, put aside the newspaper she’d been scanning, and slid to the edge of the bed. He held up his hand in a “wait” gesture.

“Yes. Julia Reynolds paid me a visit this morning. Wanted to know where you were.”

“What? How could she know about me? I sent Marla’s e-mails for her, bounced them from another computer. There was no mention of me or anything suspicious. Unless—” He looked at Marla again.

She shook her head emphatically. “I did
not
talk to her—or anyone else. I swear it!” She radiated sincerity and, knowing her integrity, Luke believed her.

“Marla didn’t tell her sister anything,” he told Adam.

“I didn’t say she did. I think Ms. Reynolds found out about you and Marla meeting at the pub. She probably talked to someone there, got your name, and did some investigating. A little digging on the Internet, and she could easily learn that your private investigator’s license came through the agency.”

“That’s not good. What did she say?”

“She wouldn’t tell me directly that she was looking for Marla. She said she needed to find you for personal reasons. I explained that you were on a crucial case, and I couldn’t give her any details or reveal your location. Needless to say, she was not happy about that.”

“I’ll bet. We don’t need her tracking down Marla and stumbling into this mess. Do you want me to have Marla phone her, tell her she’s fine, and call off the hunt?”

“No. Not yet.”

What was Adam up to? “What do you want us to do, then?”

“Do nothing about Julia Reynolds. I want to talk with her again. I discovered something very interesting when we shook hands.”

Coming from Adam, this was a very strange conversation. “What did you discover?”

“Marla’s sister is also a conductor. A matched conductor . . . for me.”

“What?”
To the best of Luke’s knowledge, no Sanctioned ever tracked Belians directly, or worked with conductors. They had an entirely different purpose on Earth. “I don’t understand.”

“Believe me when I tell you I don’t, either.”

Stranger and stranger. “So what’s next?”

“You and Marla need to go to Dallas.”

“You must have spoken with Damien.”

“Yes. When he and Kara performed their conduction, they saw Dallas circled on a map. They also saw a large cross. I believe the Belian might be targeting a church in Dallas next.”

It wasn’t surprising that Damien and Kara had culled more specific information than Luke and Marla had. Sexual conductions packed a lot more punch. “There are hundreds of churches in Dallas. They didn’t happen to get a fix on which one, did they?”

“No, but it will be a large church,” Adam said. “Higher body count. More blood for Belial. That would follow the pattern.”

“Yeah, I think you’re right. Okay, then Marla and I will head for Dallas.” He glanced back at Marla’s pale face. “We’ll spend the night here, because neither of us has had much sleep.”

“Tomorrow will be soon enough. So you’ll be in home territory.”

Luke thought of all the memories, a lot of them negative. “Yeah. Good old home territory.”

“At least you have a base to work from. Let me know when you get there. And don’t let Marla contact her sister until I give the go-ahead. Walk in Light.” Adam disconnected.

Luke closed the phone, blew out his breath. “That conversation was a kick in the pants.”

Marla was immediately up and by his side. “What about my sister?”

“She’s fine,” he said, addressing what he knew would be her immediate concern. “But . . . it’s pretty unbelievable. I don’t know what to think.”

“About what?
Tell me!
”

At least she had some color back now. And she looked ready to slug him if he didn’t talk. “I’m going to explain everything.” Except using her as a live lure. He wanted to think on that some more.

He turned toward the desk. “Let’s eat, and I’ll tell you what Adam said about your sister, and what we know about the Belian.”

But he’d keep the implications, which were looking pretty damn grim, to himself.

 

 

ADAM hung up the phone. Things were lining up for tracking the Belian. They were gathering more information, and the noose would soon be closing around it, The One willing. Marla’s ability to link with it might be an important key. She and Luke would be in Dallas tomorrow, and until they got there and determined the next target, there was nothing more that could be done.

Julia Reynolds, however, was another matter. Something definitely needed to be done about her, and Adam was still considering possibilities. While he’d never admit it to anyone, he’d been totally broadsided when he shook her hand this morning and felt the unmistakable flare of a conductor connection.

While that was a first for him, and unusual enough, it wasn’t the kicker. No. That had come from the surge of sexual attraction that accompanied the Sentinel/conductor connection. Adam hadn’t felt sexual desire of any kind for lifetimes now—for at least a few hundred years.

Yet that had changed with a single touch that had given him an impressive hard-on. He couldn’t remember the last time that had happened, or the last time he hadn’t had total control over his body. He certainly couldn’t remember what lifetime he’d last had sex.

Sanctioned and High Sanctioned were created to be above matters of the flesh. That was a given for the High Sanctioned; they didn’t possess physical bodies, existing in spirit form. But even though the Sanctioned did have human bodies and had to eat to survive, the other physical tendencies and appetites didn’t affect them. Their minds and souls were closely connected to the higher spiritual realms, and they led a far more ethereal existence than the Earthbound Sentinels did.

And yet, a single touch from Julia Reynolds had raised a tidal wave of lust in Adam.

Things like that simply didn’t happen, unless there was a reason. This situation was definitely part of the universal plan, facilitated by The One. But why? What purpose could possibly be served by a Sanctioned joining with a conductor?

It also brought up another intriguing question that Adam had never considered. Could there be a genetic link between conductors? Until now, it had been believed that conductors were born in a seemingly random pattern; that they were special souls—possibly those of the piteous “things” that had served as slaves to Belial’s followers on Atlantis, enduring horrendous abuse—coming back into the Earth to see karmic justice fulfilled.

Conductors were born into every race and every religious and ethnic background, with no evidence of an Earthly pattern. Adam had never heard of more than one conductor born to a family, but then, he’d never investigated such a possibility. Yet here were Marla and Julia Reynolds, sisters who were both conductors. That wasn’t a coincidence.

Nor was it an accident that he and Julia were matched. There was a reason, a purpose. There always was. But in the wily and unfathomable ways of the universe, the truth might not be unraveled for many lifetimes, if ever.

He had to trust that events unfolded as they were meant to, although he would certainly begin investigating family members of all known conductors. Knowledge was power, and he’d been given an amazing nugget of information.

But what to do about Julia Reynolds? He had to admit he was looking forward to their next encounter. No one had challenged him like she had for more years than he could remember. She didn’t know what he was, or what he was capable of, and he suspected it wouldn’t matter if she did. She would go to the mat for her sister. And he had no doubt she would be coming back for round two very soon.

He was looking forward to it.

 

 

LUKE got up early the next morning and roused Marla to let her know he was going to work out again. He made sure her gun and phone were in reach before he left. She squinted at the clock. Six freaking o’clock in the morning. Who in their right mind got up that early if they didn’t have to?

Actually, she’d gone to bed early last night, pretty soon after eating fast food Luke had reheated by holding his hands over it (which was pretty darned cool). Drained and exhausted, with only four hours sleep the night before that, she hadn’t been able to keep her eyes open. She had vague memories of Luke watching the late news and listening to a police scanner, but she’d had no trouble sinking back into sleep.

Now she yawned and fluffed her pillow, planning to get at least another hour’s sleep. Beside her, Bryony rolled onto her back with a little doggy groan. Marla snuggled against her and drifted off.

Voices again . . . Must be the police scanner . . .

“What’s your name? . . . Can you hear me? . . . What’s your name?
”

That definitely wasn’t a police scanner. Must be a dream.

“Marla,” she mumbled. Interactive dreaming.

“Mar-lah. A version of Mary, I believe. Where are you, Marla?
”

Cold . . . she was so cold. Luke must have turned on the air-conditioning again. She huddled beneath the covers.

It was dark, too, and she suddenly had that sick sensation in the pit of her stomach, the one she always got when she had a bad dream. But this didn’t seem like a nightmare . . .

“Why aren’t you answering me?”
The voice rose in pitch, fury edging the soft tone.

Okay, this was weird. Time to wake up now. She reached for consciousness, but something was blocking her, sucking her under. More darkness, then a familiar sensation of utter evil . . .
him!
Beside her, Bryony started growling.

“Who is this?” She managed to get her eyes open, but an unseen, depraved force cocooned her.

Oh God, oh God, oh God. Think!
Invoking God’s name seemed to clear her mind a little bit, although her heart was pounding so hard, she feared it would burst out of her chest. “What is
your
name?” she whispered.

“No.” She struggled to get the covers off her, becoming even more panicked because she was tangled.
“No!”
She flailed wildly, hurtling off the bed and onto the floor, still embroiled in the covers. Bryony barked frantically.

Kicking the covers free, Marla surged to her feet and grabbed her gun. Chest heaving, she thumbed off the safety and scanned the room. She was shaking so badly, she wasn’t sure she could even aim the Beretta. “Go away.
Go away!
Whoever you are, whatever you are, get the hell away from me!”

Nothing. Just the lingering taint of evil. She began praying out loud, desperately, calling on God and every angel and saint she knew to protect her. Bry stopped barking, shifted to intermittent growling.