Claimed (21 page)

“Which was?” Chiana interrupted.

“The shop owner was a powerful man who had people convinced that only his charms could keep what they feared most from happening,” Creed said. “If you were afraid your husband was cheating, he’d create a charm for you guaranteed to keep your man faithful. When someone walked in afraid they were being poisoned, he’d mix a charm up right there.

“He saw Caroline with his customer. He watched the woman walk away. A few days later, after she’d been admitted to the hospital with toxemia and nearly died, she didn’t hesitate to tell people how worthless his charms were.”

Chiana suspected what came next: revenge. Sickened, she listened to the rest of the story.

“He came for Caroline in broad daylight, pulled a sack over her head and had his toadies carry her away,” Creed said. “If I’d followed procedure, if I’d kept her in my line of vision…”

“It still would have happened,” Caroline said, her voice firm. “We were playing at his house, remember? Sooner or later, he would have taken me.”

Again, Creed glossed over details as he told of hunting for Caroline and finding her in a small building behind the shop owner’s house, naked and painted with bright, violent images. She’d been laid out on a table like an offering at an altar.

“I don’t know what all he planned, but she was too drugged to know where she was or what surrounded her. My best guess is that he intended to kill her and make it look like a voodoo sacrifice to scare his customers into continuing to buy his lies and his charms. That’s when I did what I thought I had to do.”

He dropped his head to stare at the concrete below his feet. Chiana tried to ask another question; Caroline shook her head in a warning to be silent. Dying to know more, Chiana held her hands up in a “what now” gesture.

“Finish up; we’ve got to hit the road.” Creed spoke brusquely as he pushed away from the picnic table and headed for the trashcans with their waste. Passing by Chiana, Caroline whispered, “No matter what he might say, he did the right thing. Not only did he save my life, he probably saved dozens of others who relied on that shop of promises instead of seeking real medical help. That’s what he needs to understand and refuses to accept.”

Chiana smacked her hand on the table in frustration. This was like reading a book and finding the entire last chapter missing. Yeah, it had been the Cliff’s Notes version she was getting, but she needed more. She needed the end. She needed to know what Creed’s demons were before she got further entangled with him.

“I’m riding with her.” She tried to sound casual. “No offense, but that seat in the truck puts my butt to sleep. I’d like to arrive with no numb parts.”

Creed shook his head. “I promised your partner I’d return you in one piece, unharmed, and I intend to keep my promise.”

“The big bad wolf is dead, remember? Maybe I’m in the mood for some girl talk.”

“Or maybe you’re in the mood to be tossed over my shoulder and carried to the truck. I saw baling twine under the seat. That’ll work as well as handcuffs if need be.”

If it hadn’t been for his grim face and narrowed eyes, she might have thought he was joking. Except, as long as they’d been together, she’d discovered he was serious in everything he did. She walked over to the truck with reluctant steps, determined to find out more before he dropped her at the house and disappeared from her life.

“Tell me,” she begged as he pulled back onto the interstate behind Caroline’s small sedan. “It can’t be that bad.”

“It is.”

“Let me be the judge. I’ve made my own share of stupid calls in my time.”

Creed’s hands tightened on the steering wheel, his knuckles going white.

“You didn’t draw innocent blood.”

“That guy was no innocent.”

“His children were.” The words came from Creed as if being torn from the fabric of his being. “I saved Caroline, yeah, but that man’s children were attacked by a hell imp while I was getting her out of that shack. I can still hear their screams in my sleep sometimes. They sounded barely human as their flesh was being torn off them and their bones crushed.

“The little girl was four years old, the same age as my daughter. Their mother died trying to save them, her blood mixing with theirs until it ran out of the house and down the street, a stream of crimson. You know how this works. You do what you have to, put it out of your mind and keep going. I couldn’t forget it, but I couldn’t deal with it either.

“Do I believe in voodoo curses? No. But I know what a man is capable of when he’s lost everything he cares about. I couldn’t take a chance that the bastard would leave Haiti and find my wife and daughter. I couldn’t let him take their lives in return for his children’s.”

Chiana longed to offer some platitude, but she wasn’t a novice. She’d seen the work of hell creatures; she knew death was a blessing for those they attacked. She thought of Caroline, driving ahead of them. Even if she’d been drugged, she had to have heard the attack, had to know that because she lived, children had died.

Reaching over, Chiana laid a hand on Creed’s thigh. Maybe her touch could reach him where her words would fail.

Self-loathing filled Creed, a familiar darkness that seemed comfortable after so long. That’s why he worked alone; he couldn’t and wouldn’t expose another agent to the hell Caroline had suffered. Her torso and legs had been covered with tiny cuts, and she’d been hot in his arms as he ran with her down the street and away from the site of carnage. Yeah, he’d sworn to protect his partner, but their prime directive was to protect the innocent.

He’d failed those children, and he’d failed Caroline. Even though he kept his distance, he knew that she lived a half-life now, sequestering herself in her house except for her hours at the diner and casual moments with her neighbors. He’d been pissed when they were partnered; he’d wanted an agent at least as experienced as he was. Pure and simple, that’s why he’d let her wander off. If he’d done his job, she’d be whole and those children would be alive.

“She knew better.”

He turned to Chiana with a questioning look.

“We all receive the same training. We’re taught to stay with the team and not to contradict the senior agent. She should have stayed with you.”

“She did the right thing in saving that woman. She had twins, two more boys.”

“How many children did the shop owner have?”

“No.” Creed shot out the word. “Don’t tell me it was a trade. Lives aren’t corn or cows. They can’t be bartered with.”

“Isn’t that what you’re doing?” Chiana’s hand moved up, to grasp his forearm as he clenched the steering wheel. “Because a hell imp did what hell imps do, you’ve thrown your life away. Chasing evil’s not a bad thing, but there’s more to being alive than work.”

“Like what?”

“Laughing during a movie. Enjoying a perfectly done pork chop. Listening to people you care about talk about their past and their plans for the future.

“And love.”

“You’re one to talk.”

When Chiana remained silent, he figured he’d hit home. She wasn’t that much different than him. She used Doc’s serum to be like everyone else, yet if what he heard was true, she didn’t date, she didn’t do much except work. Just like him.

The difference between them was that she didn’t have the nightmares, the futile replaying of those hours in Haiti. She hadn’t drawn into herself, changed so much that the only people she loved couldn’t stand to be around her anymore.

He wondered if she’d understand if he told her why his wife had left, why he had no contact with his daughter. Would she turn away if he confided his terrible secret, that he’d nearly killed his wife while in the throes of a nightmare, nearly plunged a knife into her heart?

The silence continued as they drove toward Louisville, traffic picking up as they neared the city. When they passed Caroline slowing for her exit, he honked goodbye and switched to the fast lane.

“Still have a phone?” Chiana asked as they neared downtown.

“In the glove compartment. Why?”

“Because I intend to call in sick for the first time in my life. And then I’m asking for a new partner.”

“About that…”

“Yes?”

“Hardison is dead.” The words sounded cold even to Creed. He tried to soften them.

“Odin’s warrior wore him out, literally. When Caroline saw you, she realized you two were connected. Mick made it to the diner, but he was in bad shape by the time help came.”

“So he could still be alive? We’ve got some great trauma hospitals.”

Creed shook his head. “Trust me. I called. He’s gone.”

He caught a glimmer of tears before Chiana turned her head to stare out the window. Losing a partner sucked, especially when that partner had been a friend.

“I want my car,” Chiana finally said.

“We’ll call Doc. He may have had it towed to his place. Or yours.”

“I want ribs from that little place down along the river.”

“Call in and order; we’ll pick them up on the way through.”

“And I want you. Like you promised.”

There was definite challenge in her last words. His body remembered what he needed to forget—the softness of her skin against his, the tiny sighs she made when she slept tight against him, the unbridled need he’d felt in her during those moments in the cave.

He wanted her, too. More than wanted, was obsessed by the thought of being in bed with her. He’d been lying to himself; it wasn’t a woman he wanted, it was Chiana.

“After all you’ve learned about me, you still want me?” He forced the words out, expecting her to laugh and say she’d been kidding.

“Stop the car,” she ordered. He hit the brake and pulled across two lanes onto the wide shoulder, ignoring the honk of angry horns. He turned to face her.

“You’re wounded,” she said. “I know; so am I. We’re different, you and I, than any other agents out there. Unlike some of the guys I’ve worked with, you have a conscience. You feel the pain when others are hurt.

“Me, I’m just plain different with my mother’s blood urging me to be a warrior and my father’s blood keeping me human.”

“Chiana…” he began, before she shushed him with a finger on his lips.

“I’m not asking for forever. Hell, I’m not even looking further than tomorrow morning. Tell me, what’s so wrong about the two of us finding our own kind of peace?”

“Nothing.” He reached out and drew her next to him. “If you’re sure this is what you want.”

“Positive.” Chiana’s hand stroked his face. “Although I’m pretty sure I don’t want it along I-64 in rush hour traffic. My place is only two exits from here.”

Creed slammed the transmission into drive and pulled the truck back into traffic. She was right. There was nothing wrong with them grabbing any piece of happiness they could find.

He felt something inside him loosen, as if whatever had anchored him in misery all these months had broken free. Maybe she was right and all they’d have together would be a few hours until duty took them their separate ways.

But maybe, came the cautious thought, they might have tomorrow and the tomorrow after that. And he could live with that.

About the Author

Cammie Eicher is a native Buckeye, transplanted from northwestern Ohio to northeastern Kentucky theoretically because of a job change but actually because she couldn’t take one more Lake Erie winter. A graduate of Ohio’s Bowling Green State University, she edits a weekly newspaper and is a columnist for its sister daily. Raised in a household with a teacher grandmother, poet father and teacher/historian mother, Cammie grew up on tales of local and family lore, including learning her ancestors had once been serfs in Transylvania, and that a tombstone in the town cemetery was a drop-off point for local booze during prohibition. Cammie now lives with a large Sheltie who herds everything and a tabby/Siamese cat who doesn’t take orders from anyone (especially not a dog). She also frequently visits her two grown children in order to leave the lights on and the refrigerator door open, all the time sighing, “Ah, revenge.”

She can be contacted at [email protected] or by writing her at P.O. Box 63, Greenup, KY 41144.

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Also Available from Resplendence Publishing:

Out of the Shadows
by Cammie Eicher

There’s a new Ancient in town … and he’s out for blood.

Thirteen years ago, Ahnya Fahre fought for her own life on the mean streets of Chicago. Tonight, she’s on the run again, this time with a newborn vampire who may be the child of prophecy, destined to destroy the entire Ancient civilization.

Desperate to save the child from vengeful enforcers sent by the Ancient’s high elder, Ahnya forms an uneasy alliance with the vampires’ deadly enemy, a bounty hunter intent on killing every elder of every clan.