Catherine Spangler - [Sentinel 02] - Touched By Fire (v5.0) (html) (16 page)

Finally, pretty sure he—it—
whatever the hell it was
—was gone, Marla sank to the bed. She placed the gun on the nightstand, then wrapped her arms around herself and rocked. Her teeth were chattering and her stomach roiling, both in rhythm with her thundering heart. She forced air into her lungs, telling herself she would
not
throw up.

She wanted Luke. Wanted to feel his solid arms around her. Wanted to absorb his warmth into her chilled soul, and hear his deep, calm voice tell her she was all right. That she was safe. She started to call him, but stopped herself. She was beginning to need him too much. Becoming dependent on him. Not a good thing.

She wasn’t a good bet for a relationship, even if he was willing—which he wasn’t. He’d made that quite clear. Besides, who was she kidding? If a man like Luke Paxton ever decided to get serious about someone, it wouldn’t be an overweight, plain accountant who worked at a sheet metal manufacturing plant and was more boring than dirt.

Just her wild hair and glasses were enough to put off men who were merely average. And Luke was so far above average, he was like the Sun, while she was Pluto, which wasn’t even a planet anymore, having been demoted in 2006. She was just a second-rate ball of ice. And a pathetic one at that.

Luke couldn’t be there every time she was scared or threatened. She’d been taking care of herself for years, had learned self-defense moves and how to shoot a gun. Okay, so she hadn’t been very effective against Luke, but he had super powers. That didn’t count.

She could stand on her own two feet.
Sure, like you did eleven years ago,
an inner voice taunted. Old memories surged forward.

Then he finished beating Julia to a bloodied mess
—
before he raped her. And Marla could do nothing but lay there . . .

“No!” she screamed, leaping up, fisting her hands. She stared around the room, although she knew she was alone. “I won’t let you do this to me. I won’t be afraid, and I refuse to dig up old demons. Do you hear me?
You will not win!
”

She picked up a pillow and hurled it against the wall. “Damn it,” she muttered, trying to stop shaking. It wasn’t fair. Bad enough that she had to deal with a psycho bomber with no conscience, and with whom she was now on a first name basis, a one-sided one at that. But for it to dredge up
that night
was just too much.

She grabbed a towel and went to shower. Hopefully it would help her get warm and calm down. And to regain her composure before Luke got back.

 

 

SHE was dressed and packed when he returned to the room. His hair was tied back, and he was all sweaty, which didn’t do a thing to diminish his sex appeal.

“Hey,” he said. Bryony gave a little whine and scampered over to him, then huddled into a ball at his feet. He squatted down. “Hey, psycho dog. What’s wrong?” He scooped Bry up and cradled her against him.

Marla stared at his large hands, so strong, capable of controlling the massive Harley at a flat-out run, yet so gently holding her dog. Something tugged at her heartstrings, but she resolutely ignored it.

“We had a little scare.” Discomfited at the way he was looking at her, she ducked her head and turned away. “After you left, I had this really strange dream, or at least I thought it was a dream and—”

He was beside her in an instant, his fingers grasping her chin and lifting her face to his discerning gaze. “Is that what upset you so badly?”

She refused to be needy. “I’m not upset.”

His expression hardened. “Don’t give me that bull. You look like you’ve seen a ghost. And I can feel the disrupted energy in the room. What the hell happened while I was gone?”

So much for maintaining her cool, or keeping anything from a Sentinel. Of course she had intended on telling him about the Belian, but he didn’t need to know about her emotional vulnerability.

Marla pulled free and stepped back. “The Belian contacted me.”

“What?”
He stared at her incredulously.
“It called you?”

“Not on the telephone. It spoke to me in my mind. I was half asleep, and at first, I thought I was dreaming.”

His eyes went arctic. “Tell me everything.”

She sank to the edge of the bed. Luke sat across from her, his gaze fixed on her face as she told him about the conversation with the Belian.

“Shit,” he said when she finished. He ran his hand through his hair, forgetting it was bound. When his fingers tangled with the leather strip, he growled and ripped it off, hurling it across the room. “We have to block this thing, keep it from communicating with you, at least when your defenses are down. I need to tell Adam about this.”

Luke had told her about the conversation with Adam; how Julia had approached Adam, and his discovery that she was also a conductor. Adam didn’t want Marla talking to Julia yet, so Marla was worried about her sister on top of everything else. “Just who is this Adam Masters?”

“It doesn’t matter right now. Why didn’t you call me when this happened?”

“I didn’t see the need. I managed to break the connection, and I couldn’t sense it anymore.” She caught herself twisting her hands together, stilled them. “I had my gun. And there was nothing you could have done.”

“Maybe not. But I might have been able to get a reading off the energy. And you were upset.”

“I didn’t think about you checking out the energy. I’m sorry.”

“Marla, you should have called me, regardless. You didn’t have to deal with this by yourself.”

“I’m a big girl, Luke. I’ve been taking care of myself for a long time. You can’t protect me from everything.”

“In this instance, you need to defer to me. This is what I do. I’m used to dealing with Belians, and you’re not. I don’t need you to be a hero. I need you to let me do my job.”

Her pent-up fear and the stress of the past few days rose to the surface. “Oh, and I’m supposed to sit here like a useless fixture until you need me to do a conduction?”

“No. That’s not it, and you know it.” He reached out and placed his hand over hers, his eyes warming to a stunning blue. Awareness flowed between them, sending currents of sensation to all the hot spots in her body.

“You’ve been a huge help already,” he said. “And your ability to sense the Belian—hell, to talk to the damned thing—might be the key to bringing it down.

“But I have to know that you’re going to keep me in the loop on everything, and that you won’t decide to do something on your own. This thing is incredibly dangerous, more so to you, since it’s somehow linked to you. You can
not
keep anything from me. Even the smallest bit of information could be crucial to our success, even our survival. Do you understand?”

He was right, of course. She realized he wasn’t pulling a macho routine, despite possessing an abundance of testosterone and protectiveness. He appeared to respect her and was willing to consider her opinions. But he was the general heading up this war. He had to be in control, and be aware of everything that happened.

Meaning there would be no way to maintain the emotional distance she desperately needed. So she’d just have to bury her feelings deeper. Dig in hard to control her reactions. And do her damnedest not to let the Belian, or memories of William Bennett, get to her. She nodded. “Yes, I understand.”

“Good. Part of my job is protecting you. I don’t want you to get hurt.”

“I know that.” She freed her hand and stood. “I’m all packed. I hope there’s a washing machine where we’re going because my clothes are beyond dirty.”

“You’ll be glad to know there are both a washer and a dryer at my house.” He rose and went to his duffle for clothing.

“Your house?”

“Yeah. I’m from Dallas. While we’re there, no reason to pay for a hotel when we can stay at the family homestead.”

He glanced back at her, must have noticed her surprise. “The house where I grew up. Where my father and sister, and sometimes my brother, still live.”

Well, wasn’t he just full of surprises. She didn’t know anything about his family, but then she hadn’t shared anything about her life, either. “Oh,
that
homestead. Where’s your mother?”

“She died when I was fifteen.”

“I’m sorry.” Marla paused, unsure what to say next. “I guess you’re pleased to be going home.”

“Sure,” he said. But he looked bleak as he tore off his T-shirt and headed for the bathroom, taking his cell phone with him.

She heard his voice behind the closed door, and knew he was already conveying the news about her conversation with the Belian to Adam. It was a long time before he stopped talking and turned on the shower.

She listened to the running water, thinking about Luke’s words. She knew he’d do his best to keep her safe—physically. But emotionally safe was another matter, and beyond anyone’s control. Despite her attempts to remain aloof, her emotions were already engaged.

It would be a letdown when they completed this so-called mission and went their separate ways.

Assuming she survived.

ELEVEN

ADAM Masters didn’t have to wait long for his second round with Julia Reynolds.

She made her move at ten the next morning. He heard his secretary’s raised voice, and another female voice, and knew the battle was engaged. He strode to his office door, heard Cheryl say, “I’m sorry but Mr. Masters is busy right now. If you’d care to tell me what you need, I’ll be glad to make an appointment for you to meet with him.”

He waited for the comeback. “I think evasive would be more accurate than busy,” came Julia Reynolds’s brisk voice. “Especially since there are two cars in your parking lot, not counting mine. And since he is withholding vital information from me. I think it’s very telling that he’s hiding behind you rather than dealing with me face-to-face. Now please move. This isn’t your battle, and I suspect he doesn’t pay you enough to deal with me.”

Adam did in fact pay Cheryl very well, and she knew that discretion and keeping him from being disturbed were his two ironclad requirements. She’d probably take a caning from Ms. Reynolds before she’d let her into his inner sanctum.

He opened his door before the situation came to blows. Cheryl was standing in front of it, trying to block it with her 110-pound body.

“It’s all right, Cheryl. I don’t believe having your blood shed on my behalf will be necessary today. Ms. Reynolds, do you always make a habit of bullying anyone who doesn’t give you what you want?”

She raked him with her crystal-sharp gaze, one that he suspected put the fear of God in her students. “Do you always engage in verbal sparring to keep from dealing with people?”

“Only with those I find intriguing and capable of engaging in a verbal battle.”

She blinked, and he gave himself the first point. He stepped back, swept his arm toward his office. “Please come in.”

She looked at Cheryl. “I apologize for my rudeness. I know you were just doing your job, which must be horrendous, considering who you work for. I’m dealing with extenuating circumstances, and I’m sorry you were a casualty.”

Cheryl managed a nod. “Sure. I understand.” She shot Adam an apologetic look and returned to her desk.

“At least you’re somewhat civilized,” Adam said, closing the door behind Julia.

“It’s not her fault that you’re difficult, arrogant, and dishonest.” She leaned her weight on her cane.

Today she was wearing a dark brown suit with a double-breasted jacket and etched gold buttons. Her only jewelry was gold hoop earrings. Her hair was pulled back into a tight knot at the base of her neck, making the square angles of her face more prominent.

“Please have a seat. We can both better engage the battle if we’re comfortable.” He returned to his own leather chair.

She remained standing. “Is that how you look upon this? A battle?”

He steepled his fingers together as he regarded her. “Well, let’s see. You’ve contacted the Private Security Bureau, the Corpus Christi police, attorney Mark Sutter, and filed complaints about me and my agency with each of them. I would say that’s an opening volley.”

She glared at him, and her fingers tightened on the cane. “Is this a game to you, Mr. Masters? Because I can assure you, it’s not to me.”

“No, it’s not a game. In fact, the case Mr. Paxton is working on is a matter of life and death. Also, it is illegal for me to disclose the details of any case my agency handles, unless the client instructs me to do so, or there is a police investigation or a subpoena. That’s the law, Ms. Reynolds. I could lose my operating license if I breached confidentiality.”

“And my sister’s life could be in jeopardy. What does the law say about that, Mr. Masters?”

“Your sister? You didn’t mention her yesterday.”

Emotion flashed in her brown eyes. He wondered if she realized just how expressive they were. “You’re very aware of the purpose of my visit,” she said. “I could tell yesterday that you knew the whereabouts of Marla and refused to tell me.”

“What would make you think that?”

“Let’s just call it woman’s intuition. Also, I know your kind, Mr. Masters.”

“Why don’t you call me Adam? If we’re going to step into the ring, we might as well be on a first name basis. What exactly is my kind, Julia?”

She stiffened, most likely at his use of her first name. “You’re a lowlife, arrogant and self serving. You probably don’t care about anything other than yourself or getting paid. You like feeling powerful, enjoy withholding information as a way of wielding that power.”

He was amused by her perceptions. “I have no doubt that you’re intuitive, Julia. But unfortunately, fears and life experiences have a way of filtering and distorting impressions. I would like to think your impression of me is inaccurate, although I have been accused of arrogance, more than once.”

She took a step closer. “I don’t give a flip about whether or not you’re really a jerk. I just want you to tell me where Marla is.”

Even with the massive desk between them, he could feel the pull of her energy. His body tingled in response to a surge of pure, raw lust. He reached for his formidable self-control. “And if I don’t?”

Resolve hardened her expression. “Then I’ll find the leverage to force the information.”

She was beginning to look strained, and he wished she would sit down. “Since you’ve talked to the police, a state agency, and an attorney, you already know that unless there’s a crime scene and a criminal investigation, there’s no legal way to make me release information on a case. Was there a crime scene, Julia? Any evidence that your sister met up with foul play?”

Her lips compressed into a thin line, and he knew she’d run out of ammunition. “Damn you,” she said. “And damn the law. I just want to find to Marla. I want to talk to her and see for myself that she’s—” Her voice trembled, and she paused, took a deep breath. The sheen of tears glistened in her eyes.

Ah, there was the real person beneath that tough exterior of bravado and acerbic words. He understood now why she had built such a hardened shell. He’d done a thorough background check, uncovering her double doctorates in math and physics, and the fact that she was a full professor at the University of Houston. Far more revealing was the information on what happened to her eleven years ago.

Steel forged in the fires of hell
, he thought.

She gripped her cane, her knuckles turning white. “She’s my sister,” she said fiercely. “And I deserve—
I need
—to know she’s all right. Is that too much to ask?”

He leaned forward, resting his forearms on the desk. “No, it’s not,” he said quietly, meeting her gaze. “I can tell you that Marla is well and safe. That she made the decision to assist us in a case, of her own free will and a desire to help. I can also ask her to e-mail you on a regular basis.”

“She’s on a case?” Julia considered. “No, that’s not right. She’s an accountant, not a private investigator. She would never do that, and certainly not without telling us. And she took the dog with her. She never takes Bryony when she travels.”

“She couldn’t tell you about it. It turns out she has certain abilities that will help us with this case. And since we don’t know how long it will take, perhaps she felt it best to take the dog along.”

“No.” Julia shook her head in denial. “This is crazy. It makes no sense. I want to talk to her. I want to hear her voice and decide for myself if she’s really all right.”

Tired of looking up, Adam pushed back his chair and stood. Now he looked down at her. Her eyes widened, but she held her ground. “I’ll have her call you,” he said. “That’s the best I can do. I’m sorry, but I can’t tell you anything else.”

“I suppose I have your word that she’ll phone me?”

He ignored her derisive tone. “You do.”

“Great. The word of a scum.”

“I’m really not that bad,” he said mildly.

“Let me tell you something.” She shifted closer, her eyes flashing fire. “If anything happens to my sister, I’m coming after you, privacy laws or not. I will hound you to the ends of the earth. You definitely have my word on that.” She turned, nearly stumbling as her leg gave out.

Adam forced himself to remain behind the desk, allowing her to catch herself and regain her balance. He was torn between stopping her and trying to figure out why she was a matched conductor to
him
, and what in the Light to do about it, or simply letting her go and allowing the universe to orchestrate the rest. He decided to let the universe handle it.

She opened the door and started through, then paused. She turned, her gaze now glacial. From fire to ice in a matter of seconds. Fascinating.

“I hope to God you’re telling me the truth,” she said. “I can only believe that you walked away unscathed from that accident with the red truck so that I could find Marla. Other than that, I wouldn’t have cared if you’d suffered painful—no, make that excruciating—injuries.”

He stared at her, too stunned to fabricate an intelligent comeback. Another first for him. “How did you know about that?”

She shrugged. “Oh, I don’t know. Perhaps the same intuition that tells me you’re a lowlife.” She turned and walked out, leaving his thoughts whirling.

How could she have known about the accident? Unless she’d been trailing him, but he was certain that wasn’t the case. He was always scanning his surroundings, always watching the traffic around him. No one had followed him when he left the office last night, or coming in this morning.

The accident had occurred yesterday on Interstate 37 as he was headed home. There was no way Julia could have been on the busy highway at the exact location and time the red pickup truck had changed lanes without looking, careening into Adam’s Mercedes. His car had been totaled, but he’d sustained only minor injuries, which he’d already healed.

So . . . had she seen it in a vision? Perhaps she had precognition or retrocognition. Virtually every conductor possessed some sort of psychic gift. If Julia Reynolds had the ability to see something before it happened, or even see it clearly after the fact . . . then the universe had just thrown him the ball.

“Wait,” Adam called, moving quickly around the desk. “We need to talk.”

 

 

THEY were two hours out of Austin when Luke’s cell phone rang. He turned down the Queen song blaring on the radio and snagged his phone. “Hello, Adam.”

Marla watched him, already familiar with his features and expressions: the way his firm lips pressed together when he was listening; the furrow that appeared between his brows; the increased tension in his jawline. The dark Ray-Ban sunglasses hiding his eyes enhanced his rugged, bad-boy good looks. Her breath hitched. The man definitely stirred up her libido.

“She’s told you she’s precognitive? Wow. You think that will help us? . . . You’re coming, too? . . . Okay. What?” His mouth quirked into a small grin, so Adam must have said something amusing.

“Oh, yeah? Must run in the family.” He cut his gaze toward Marla. “Hardheaded and smart-ass.”

“Are you talking about me?” she demanded indignantly.

He flashed a smile that sent her heart racing. “If the shoe fits, babe.”

She resisted the urge to punch him, since he was driving eighty miles per hour on Interstate 35. “What are you talking to Adam about?” she demanded.

He ignored her. “She does? Can’t say I blame her. That’s a lot of information to take in, especially from someone like you . . . Nope, not going to qualify that.”

Marla fidgeted in her seat, impatient and anxious. She was certain they were discussing Julia.

“All right,” Luke said. “E-mail me your itinerary. I’m giving the phone to Marla now.” He held out the cell phone. “Talk to your sister. Adam wants her to come to Dallas to help us. She’s giving him a hard time and isn’t convinced he’s telling the truth. Maybe you can enlighten her.”

Stunned, she reached slowly for the phone. “He wants Julia involved in this? Is he planning to do a conduction?” She thought of the brutal rape Julia had endured eleven years ago; how she hadn’t dated a man since. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

“It’s not your call.” Luke returned his attention to the road. “It has to be her decision. All I’m asking you to do is tell her the truth, answer her questions about Sentinels and conductors, and then let her decide.” He glanced toward her. “
Her choice,
Marla.”

“Like I got to choose?” she sniped, off balance from this turn of events.

“You’re still here, aren’t you? You could have left any time after I explained the situation to you.”

His voice was low and calm, and she felt bad for lashing out at him. Besides, he was right. He’d basically kidnapped her, yet once she’d had the facts, she had willingly remained. But this was Julia. It was different.

She raised the phone to her ear. “Hello?”

“Marla! Is that you?”

“Yes. Oh, Jules, it’s so good to hear your voice. Are you all right?”

“Of course I am. It’s you I’m worried about. Are you okay? Are you safe?”

“I’m fine. I’m safe, I promise. Where are you?”

“I’m in Corpus Christi, dealing with a very annoying man.”

Hearing Julia’s brisk, no-nonsense voice loosened the tension in Marla’s chest. “What are you doing there?”

“I was looking for Luke Paxton, and his PI license is through this agency in Corpus. I couldn’t locate Paxton, but I found his boss. Talk about arrogant. I suspect he’s also delusional.”

“Actually, he’s not delusional, Jules. Has he demonstrated any unusual powers?”

“Just some parlor tricks. Levitating chairs and computers, closing the door when I started to leave. That sort of fake
Ghost Whisperer
stuff.”

“Is there really any way he could fake that? You have a doctorate in physics. What do you think?”

“That Newton and Einstein are turning over in their graves.”

Vintage Julia. Marla laughed, then sobered. “It’s not fake, Jules, it’s for real. Has he told you about Sentinels and conductors?”