Catherine Spangler - [Sentinel 02] - Touched By Fire (v5.0) (html) (6 page)

“It’s doubtful. She doesn’t know where I’m staying, and I don’t think my cellular will work there. No way for her to find me.”

Perfect logic, unfortunately. Julia asked, “Anyone else she might be meeting there?”

“Well, I don’t know many of her other friends, and she doesn’t social much with the blokes at work. But . . . there is this chap she met at the Red Lion on Friday night. He was trying to chat her up.”

“Chat her up?”

“Oh, sorry. He was really coming on to her. Asked her to go to dinner with him Saturday night and she agreed.”

“She did?”

“Yes. I was chuffed. This chap was bloody gorgeous, and I was pleased she was going to see him again. I wonder if she might be going off with him. I know I’d jump at the chance.”

Marla had hardly dated since that night eleven years ago. She wouldn’t go to Mexico with a man she’d just met, especially without informing anyone. “What can you tell me about this man?” Julia asked, fear coiling inside her like a snake.

“He was big, over six feet, long blond hair, stunning blue eyes. His name was Luke something or other . . . started with a
P
, I think. Oh, hell, I can’t recall it.”

“Anyone else there with them?”

“Hmmm. They were sitting at the bar, on the far right side. A young woman was tending. She had that fake red hair.”

“You said it was the Red Lion. On Friday night?”

“Right. Happy hour. Listen, is there anything I can do?”

“No.” Julia drew a deep breath. She didn’t even know what
she
was going to do. “You’ve been helpful, and I appreciate it. Tell you what—let me give you my home and cell phone numbers. Will you call me if you talk to Marla, or hear anything?”

“Of course I will. And I’ll give you my cellular as well.”

They exchanged numbers, and Julia said good-bye and hung up. She tried to tell herself everything was all right, that Marla was fine. But the old sick feeling was back, the shaking that started inside and worked its way out like a scream.

Julia was very,
very
afraid that Marla might have gone off with this blond man, a man who could be a criminal . . . a monster. And Julia knew firsthand there were real, live monsters in the world. She hoped she was wrong, and that Marla had really gone with friends to Mexico. That she was safe and having fun.

But what if . . . Julia drew another deep breath, forced herself to calm. She was an intelligent, resourceful woman. She wouldn’t let Marla sink into the depths of hell without a fight.

Her first order of business: a visit to the police.

FOUR

MARLA sat at the kitchen table, Bryony cuddled in her lap. Another point in Luke’s favor, as he seemed to realize she needed the familiar comfort of the poodle’s warm—albeit tense—body. He’d even shown admirable restraint when Bryony went for him the moment she was untied.

Marla didn’t understand it. At home, Bry always barked at visitors, but calmed down after the initial contact. Yet she didn’t like Luke. Marla hoped it was the odd energy he emanated, and not some inner core of evil only the poodle could sense.

Now Bryony tracked his every move, growling whenever he stepped in their direction. He was fixing breakfast, displaying an easy, practiced skill in the kitchen. A pound of bacon was sizzling in two ancient cast iron skillets, and ten biscuits baked in the oven, while a fresh pot of coffee brewed. Mr. Macho Chef. All he needed was an apron and one of those tall white hats, although he looked really fine in those faded jeans and white T-shirt. The kitchen towel threaded through his belt loop didn’t detract in any way from his breathtaking masculinity.

Marla watched in amazement as he cracked an entire dozen eggs into a bowl. “Um, I really don’t eat that much,” she said. “Even if I am . . .” She glanced down her jeans—relaxed fit—noting how they stretched over her generous thighs.

He paused his mixing. “If you’re what?”

Stupid fat genes.
“Never mind.” She waved a hand at the stove. “Who’s going to eat all that food?”

“I expect you to eat some of it. I’ll handle the rest.” He turned and started removing the bacon from the skillets. “Sentinels have very fast metabolisms. I eat a
lot
of food.”

Life was
so
unfair—assuming he was telling the truth, about any of it. “So these Be-lee . . .” Marla stumbled over the word.

“Buh-lee-ins,” Luke sounded it out. “What about them?”

“They’re really bad, huh?”

“Think Hitler, Ted Bundy, Jeffrey Dahmer.”

“They were all Belians?”

Luke drained one of the skillets into a can. “Not all bad people are Belians. But many of them are.”

“And they come to Earth why?”

The egg mixture went into the drained skillet, and Luke turned on the burner beneath it. “It’s complicated. All of this started in Atlantis.”

That again.
“So you’re saying Atlantis really existed?”

Luke looked at her. “Yes, I am. It came into being over 100,000 years ago.”

She mulled that over while he cooked the eggs. She got up to help when he began bringing food to the table, but he waved her back down. “I can do this. Just keep psycho dog in check.”

On cue, Bryony growled as he set the bacon on the table. “Hush.” Marla gave her a little shake. “If you don’t behave, you’ll have to go back outside.” She set Bry on the floor. “You stay right there.” The poodle lay down, keeping an eye on Luke.

Luke put everything on the table, including dishes and silverware—no knife for her, Marla noted. He took the chair opposite her, for which she was grateful. Even from here, she could feel the pull of the energy between them, although it was somewhat muted.

He piled his plate with an outrageous amount of food and dug in. Still suffering a headache and feeling queasy, Marla started with a biscuit. “You were talking about Atlantis.”

“Yeah. The first Atlantians were enlightened and peaceful. They worshiped one God, although their term was The One. They were very advanced, in both psychic powers and technology. They could travel through space and time—”

“They did time travel?”

“Sure did. They were very advanced beings.”

She tried to get her mind around that. “So what happened to them?”

“First off, they got enmeshed in the Earth. They started out as spiritual beings, but then they took on physical bodies. Physical substance is denser than spiritual substance. They began to forget their connection to the Creator.”

That actually made sense, which was kind of scary. She realized Luke was pausing at regular intervals, probably to give her time to absorb what he was saying. That sharp blue gaze was watchful and assessing, that powerful body deceptively relaxed, ready to move if she went ballistic. Which might happen at any time, if this story got any weirder. “Go on,” she said.

“The first Atlantians were known as the Children of One, because they worshipped one God. But eventually, the paradise became corrupted. An Atlantian named Belial began gaining power. His followers became known as the Sons of Belial.”

“Belians,” Marla murmured, making the logical jump.

Luke nodded, approval in his gaze. “The Belians thrived on darkness, power, and blood. They began making human sacrifices to their dark gods. And because the Children of One were peaceful and passive by nature, the Belians easily gained power. They took control of the great crystal that provided all the power for Atlantis. And they turned it into a death ray, to battle their enemies. But that eventually backfired, when misuse of the crystal destroyed Atlantis.”

“But according to you, the Atlantians aren’t really gone,” Marla said, remembering their earlier conversation. “Because they’re being reincarnated on Earth again.” Not that she believed in reincarnation—or at least hadn’t before now.

“Right.” Luke got up for more coffee. “The Belians started coming back when technology began to approach what it was on Atlantis. Since they are corrupted souls, they began spreading destruction and terror on the Earth. So the original Atlantians—mainly those who had served in the temple—also began reincarnating to track down the Belians. They—we—are the Sentinels.”

The theme music from
The Twilight Zone
started playing in Marla’s head. “And you said that they—you—are psychic?”

He slid back into his chair. “To an extent. We use psychic powers to track Belians. I can go to a BCS—Belian crime scene—and pick up the energies that were expended during the crime. I can manipulate those energies to create the Belian’s psychic signature. The more I work with the energy, the more bits and pieces of information I get about the Belian’s identity. I know it sounds complicated, which it is.”

It sounded more crazy than complicated, but Marla kept that opinion to herself. “So, if you’re psychic, can you read minds?” Oh dear God, she hoped not. She’d been having some very erotic thoughts about Luke.

He gave her a slow, knowing smile that made her want to sink beneath the table. “No, I can’t read actual thoughts. But I can sense feelings and strong emotions or disturbances. Like right now, I know you still have a headache.”

How could he know that? “It’s getting better,” she said, relieved he couldn’t perceive her thoughts. “Tell me more about Belians and Sentinels.”

“We’re both fairly evenly matched in powers and abilities. And we’re also both in mortal human bodies, so we can be killed. Fortunately for the Sentinels, there is a small group of humans who also have special abilities. We call them conductors.”

And he considered her one of those people. “What kind of abilities?”

“They’re able to link with a Sentinel and magnify his or her psychic tracking abilities. While linked, they can make it easier to unravel the Belian’s psychic signature. Usually, they have some psychic abilities of their own.” He paused, watching her. “Which I’m assuming you have. Tell me about them, Marla.”

Her odd quirk was something she had never discussed with anyone. She assumed she had it because the trauma of Julia and her being attacked had done something to her psyche. It occurred to her that maybe it was better if she didn’t tell Luke, either. Although she couldn’t deny he had nonhuman abilities, she still hadn’t ruled out the possibility he might be one or two cards short of a full deck.

“Marla.”

She felt that same compulsion to obey that she’d experienced earlier, and realization jolted through her. She shoved back from the table. “You’re using your powers to manipulate me.” She stood, and Luke followed suit.

“I’m not doing anything that will hurt you. I’m just trying to get your cooperation.”

“Just like you did last night, and this morning. I’m well aware you did something to me every time I got upset or tried to fight you.”

His gaze was steady. “I merely sent calming energy through you. There was no sense in you panicking and hurting yourself. Although I seemed to be getting the brunt of it.”

“You’re controlling my thoughts.” Another horrifying possibility occurred to her. “You’re making me have these . . . feelings for you!”

“No! Nothing like that. Sentinels follow a strict code of honor. We can’t harm innocents, and we can’t force a conductor to work with us. And we certainly don’t use our powers for sexual gain. Your physical responses are the result of the Sentinel/conductor reaction.”

Anger flared through her. “A code of honor? One that condones terrorizing me and Bryony and then kidnapping us?” She turned on the wildly barking poodle. “Bryony, shut up!”

“I’ll admit I pushed the boundaries with that. But only because you were too inebriated for me to explain everything last night.”

“I was not drunk!”

“All right. Tipsy, then.”

Her headache was coming back full force, and she felt like screaming. And throwing something, specifically at him. “So I can’t trust you, or believe anything you say.”

“Shit.” He ran a hand through his hair. “Marla, I’m sorry. I’ve already admitted I mishandled this from the start. But I
really
need your help. Please bear with me a little longer.”

“Not unless you promise not to zap me with any more energy.”

“That depends.
You
have to promise you won’t try to knee the family jewels, bite me, pull a gun on me, or kick me. Or run without at least hearing me out.” He glanced down at his ankle, where Bryony had attached herself. “Or sic psycho dog on me.”

“Bryony! Stop that!” She darted around the table and pried Bry away from Luke’s leg. Straightening, she realized she was mere inches from him and feeling the barrage of energy.

How could he possibly fake a surge of sensation like that? And why did he have to have that wry, heart-twisting sense of humor? She stared into his eyes, telling herself she wouldn’t get sucked under. “Do you promise to keep your so-called powers and energies to yourself?”

He reached out, sliding his fingers through her hair and cupping her head. Heat sizzled from her scalp to the tips of her toes and everywhere between. “I promise not to invade your mental and physical privacy, unless your safety or well being is compromised.” His fingers slid down, kneaded the knots in her neck and shoulders. She felt warmth shooting into her muscles, and the headache eased.

He dropped his hand and stepped back. The whirlpool of sensation slowed, and she dragged air into her constricted lungs.

“I want to take you somewhere,” he said.

“Where?”

“A place where the Belian was staying. I think you’ll be able to sense the energy it left behind.”

Oh great. Now I can experience evil and darkness.
“And then what?”

“Then we’ll discuss doing a conduction.”

She had no idea what that entailed, but thought of one of her mother’s sayings:
In for a penny, in for a pound.
She was already here, wherever that was. And she was pretty much at Luke’s mercy, although she was actually beginning to feel safe with him.
Don’t forget about me!
her throbbing body screamed. Well, except for that. She might as well see this through.

“All right,” she said. “Let’s go.”

 

 

MARLA held on tightly to Luke, the wind rushing past her, a hell of a lot of horsepower rumbling beneath her. She’d never been on a motorcycle before last night, which didn’t count because she barely remembered it. But this, this was elemental—wild, free, and, she had to admit—exhilarating. If she hadn’t had some serious doubts about the driver and her current situation, she would have enjoyed herself. Still she certainly couldn’t complain about what she was holding on to—two hundred pounds of pure, primal male.

When she’d donned the helmet Luke gave her and slid onto the bike behind him, she hadn’t known where to put her hands and tentatively gripped his leather jacket. But when he revved the motor to life and wheeled down the gravel road to Highway 36, she found her hands curved around his waist, her fingers digging into some rock-hard abs. And when he took some sharp turns, she found herself pressing against his back. He felt so solid.

Needville sat on the northern edge of Brazos Bend State Park, which incorporated a stretch of the Brazos River, various lakes, and hundreds of moss-draped live oaks. Much of Texas was rural, and this area had its share of small roads and far-spaced homes with dusty prairie stretches between them.

Luke drove to a structure that was basically just a shack. Situated on a deserted stretch of an old FM road, the structure’s wooden slat walls were weathered and warped, the tin roof rusted. The yard was barren, more dirt than grass, no bushes or plants of any kind. Yellow crime scene tape flapped across the front of the shack.

He powered down the motorcycle, but Marla felt a residual vibration between her legs and in her rear. She climbed off the bike, unhooked her helmet and let him take it.

“Have the police been here?” she asked, noting the tape.

“Yes. I notified them after I discovered evidence that the Belian had created weapons here.” Luke set their helmets on the bike.

“How did you know to look here?”

“I investigated the first crime scene, and I picked up some images of this place. Then I spent hours driving around and checking out all area rentals from the past year, until I got here. I could feel the Belian’s energy. The place was deserted, but I found incriminating evidence inside. So after I worked the energy patterns, I notified the authorities.”

Marla stared at the shack. It seemed to emit malevolence. “Energy patterns?”