Dark and Damaged: Eight Tortured Heroes of Paranormal Romance: Paranormal Romance Boxed Set (96 page)

Despite the fork challenges, he eventually managed to make it work and he took a big bite. No wonder Keely was shoveling it in. The meat was tender and flavorful. And the noodles
were
delicious.

He thought about their earlier conversation. “I’m not surprised to hear you are a Talent.”

She looked around before turning her attention back to him. “Why?”

“I felt the signs of it when you were kissing me,” he said, trying hard not to slip into his Cascadian accident.

She lowered her eyes and concentrated on twirling noodles with her fork. “I…I’m really sorry about that. It was rude.”

He wasn’t sure he understood her. “Rude?”

“You know. Not polite. I shouldn’t have used my Talent on you without your permission.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, Kitten. It was not offensive to me.” Quite the opposite, in fact. It had been almost as intimate as that kiss.

Her mouth quirked, not quite a smile.

“You’re a Shield-Talent, aren’t you?” he asked softly.

“Yeah, I guess so, but I’ve never had much of a handle on it. If you were to ask my father, he’d call me a manipulator.”

“Whatever you did, I’m grateful. It prevented a Psychic-Talent thug from reading our minds.”

She stopped twisting her noodles and looked up. “Are you talking about those guys chasing me?”

He frowned. Didn’t she know? “One of them was a Psychic-Talent. I assumed that’s why you put up that mental shield. That you did it on purpose.”

She shook her head. “I…I…don’t know what I did. I just kept wishing they would run past us…and they did.” She gazed at him, a curious look on her face. “Why are
you
grateful they weren’t able to read your mind?”

He couldn’t exactly tell her that he was a warrior from Cascadia. People here didn’t look kindly on those they thought were terrorists. “Let’s just say had they known my intentions, they’d have been after me, too.” He needed to change the focus of this conversation. “So why did you say it was rude?”

She shrugged. “That’s what I was taught. You don’t flaunt something that should be kept locked away.”

“Locked away like a shameful secret? So your family doesn’t consider your Talent a gift?”

Her laugh was bitter. “Hardly. When they found out about my sister and me, they kicked us out of the house. I was fifteen. Becca was seventeen. Given that my mom was permanently disabled by a bombing a few years ago, you’d think they would have called the army to see if they could use our Talents in their fight against the terrorists. Guess I should be thankful they didn’t.”

He let out a slow exhale and let her words sink in. If she believed Cascadian warriors were responsible for hurting her mother—regardless of whether Keely was estranged from her or not—he couldn’t tell her the truth about himself.

He looked over the table at her, as if seeing her for the first time. Although from very different worlds, they’d both faced circumstances they couldn’t control and were forced to grow up quickly. His heart ached for her because he knew exactly how it felt to be abandoned by your mother, the one person who should love you unconditionally.

He reached out, clasped her hand in his. Their gazes met and held. Seeing the vulnerability beneath her dark lashes, he had the sudden urge to pull her into his arms again. Protect her from sadness and harm. Fix everything in her life that needed fixing.

After they finished eating, they made the ten-minute walk to her shop. He enjoyed being with her and used every excuse to touch her, keeping his hand on the small of her back most of the time. Stepping onto the curb. Guiding her around a break in the sidewalk. At one point, when two young girls weren’t watching where they were going and almost ran into them, Toryn cupped Keely’s shoulder and drew her out of their path. She flashed him an easy smile, lighting up the dark corners of his heart. She was uncomplicated and enjoyed his company.

When they rounded the final corner, Keely hesitated, then frowned.  

His hand tightened on her shoulder. “What’s wrong?”

“Our sandwich board sign.” She pointed down the street. “It should be on the sidewalk below that blue awning, but it’s not there.”

When they got to the shop, shards of glass covered the pavement, glittering like raindrops in the moonlight. A black hole gaped in the window, obliterating the name of the shop that was painted on the glass—Sisters something. A broom lay on the sidewalk, as if someone had tried to sweep up the mess, then changed their mind.

Keely gasped and clamped a hand over her mouth.

Toryn drew his blade. The window above the door had been broken as well. The point of entry. The latch on the worn brass door handle pressed easily. The door was unlocked.  

“Stay out here,” he ordered. Without waiting for her response, he pushed it open.

The small bell overhead chimed out a misplaced cheery welcome. He stepped over the threshold and into the darkened shop.

Even without lights, he could tell the place had been vandalized. Books and loose papers were strewn over the floor, shelves were tipped over, and tiny bottles that held oils and lotions were scattered everywhere.

“Oh my God,” Keely said from right behind him. “My books.”

Toryn sighed. He hadn’t really expected that she’d wait outside for him, but it was worth a try.

“Stay put. I’ll check the rest of the place.” He did a quick but thorough search of the premises, including the small apartment upstairs. No one else was here, and there didn’t appear to be any other damage.

When he returned to the main floor, Keely was struggling to raise an overturned bookshelf.

“The place is clear,” he said, rushing to help her. “Looks like this is the extent of it.”

She ducked her head away from him, swiping a hand hurriedly over her cheek. “Thank you, Toryn.”

He started to reach out to her again but then thought better of it. He couldn’t let himself get emotionally attached to her any more than he already was, but before he could pull back, she touched his hand lightly. A soft, feathery touch, like a butterfly.

Damn
.

“I…I don’t know what I would’ve done without you,” she said, chewing on her lower lip, probably to keep it from trembling. “I can’t imagine coming back to this…alone. The last time it happened, Becca was here.”

His eyes narrowed. “This has happened before?”

She nodded. “A few times. We’re prime fodder for the more militant protesters given who our father is and that we used to be on their side. So in a way, I guess we deserve this.”

She’d mentioned that her father was a minister with a popular online show whose Internet ratings brought in lots of ad revenue. Toryn nodded, even though he didn’t understand much. He came from a world with castles, warriors and horses, not computers, electricity and cars. About the only thing he understood was that her father was a powerful religious man.  

“You were a kid when you protested with him,” he said brusquely. “I hardly call that being deserving of this kind of retaliation.”

She didn’t look convinced. “I don’t know, Toryn. I’m not sure that I would’ve changed my mindset about Talents if I hadn’t become one. I had a really hard time accepting the fact that I was a freak. I’d—”

“You’re not a freak, Kitten,” he said softly. Her gaze flashed to his as if she were trying to decide whether to believe him. “You’re not.”

She swallowed, looked down at her hands. “I became the very thing that I grew up despising. Both of us did. I don’t know what I would’ve done without Becca. I’m not sure I could’ve gone on without her.”

He exhaled slowly. The world wouldn’t have been the same without Keely in it.

Despite Keely believing this was the work of protesters, he wasn’t so sure. Not with the timing of what happened to her sister. He’d be willing to bet that Reaux was behind it somehow. In his experience, the power hungry would often do things to demonstrate their might and rattle their sabers.

He didn’t want to think of what would’ve happened had she been alone and come upon the bastards while they were still here, but from now on, he’d do everything in his power to keep her safe.

While she gathered up papers and re-shelved books, he boarded up the windows with some plywood he found in the alley.

“So the name of your shop is Sisters Books and…what?”

“Books and Fortunes. Although the fortunes part is more marketing than anything else.”

He quirked a brow. “How so?”

“Becca and I don’t actually read fortunes. It’s more like making thought suggestions, although to be honest with you, she’s much better at it than I am.”

“When you’re done, maybe you can show me. Give me a demonstration.”

She laughed and said she’d love to.

After he finished hammering the last nail, he stood back to check his handiwork. “That should hold for now.”

“I can’t thank you enough for your help,” she said as she rested her hands on top of the broom. “This would’ve taken me all night by myself.”

The place wasn’t completely put back together, but at least it was better than it had been. He brushed his thumb over a smudge on her cheek. “No thanks necessary, Kitten. I was happy to do it.”

They exchanged another heated glance and he felt himself getting hard.

“Is there somewhere you can stay until the windows are replaced?” The words came out low and raspy. “A friend? A relative, maybe?”

Shaking her head, she stepped away from him and straightened a few items on a nearby counter. “No, there’s just Becca and me. I’ll be fine though.”

He thought about this latest Iron Guild mission and how he’d considered using Keely to get to Reaux. The thought disgusted him now. She was an innocent young woman who didn’t deserve to be thrust into danger like that. He’d figure out another way to take the bastard down.

Up until now, his hatred of Reaux had been strictly professional. The man was a threat to the Cascadian people and it was Toryn’s duty as an Iron Guild warrior to neutralize that threat.

But that was before he met Keely. Now, it felt personal.

“Then I will stay here with you until it is fixed.”

“Can I get you something to drink?” she asked, handing him a pillow and blanket. They didn’t have a spare room, so the couch in the reading nook in the back of the shop would have to suffice. His large, imposing frame seemed to fill the entire space. How would she be able to sleep knowing he was on the floor below her?

Grinning as if he knew what she’d been thinking, he settled down on the sofa and stretched his long legs out in front of him. “Got any Irish whiskey? The good stuff?”

“Darn. I’m afraid I’m fresh out. I do have some top-shelf wine, though.”

“Excellent.”

She returned a few minutes later with two mismatched wine glasses and a bottle of strawberry wine.

She unscrewed the top, poured him a glass, and when she handed it to him, her fingers accidentally brushed his. The echo of his touch shot up her arms and gave her goose bumps just like it had before.

She took a seat next to him on the couch, trying as hard as she could not to snicker like a twelve-year-old boy with a whoopee cushion. Surely he knew that this wine was as cheap as they came, didn’t he?

Without a whiff or a swirl, he knocked back the entire thing in one gulp.

“Bloody hell,” he sputtered, putting the empty glass on the library table beside him. “That stuff is awful.”

She laughed at his reaction—just what she’d hoped it would be—and took a sip. It wasn’t
that
bad. “A little sweet maybe,” she admitted. “It’s Becca’s.”

A knot of worry twisted in her stomach again at the thought of her sister. She hoped nothing happened between now and tomorrow to prevent her from coming home. Then, all Keely had to do was convince her not to go back. They could move away. Start up fresh somewhere else, somewhere far away from Davin Reaux. She’d heard that things were better for Talents down in Portland, and she’d always liked it there anyway.

As if sensing her tension, Toryn took her glass, set it next to his, and motioned for her to turn so he could massage her shoulders.

He lifted her hair aside and placed his hands on her skin.

Mmmm
.

They were warm, heavy and strong. She closed her eyes and focused on his deft fingers kneading her tight muscles. Inch by inch, the tension from the past few days began melting away.

It felt good being with him like this. Safe. Relaxing.

“So what do you do, Toryn?” she murmured, her eyes still closed. “Other than rescuing women and doing minor construction projects.”

“For one thing, I didn’t rescue you.” His tone sent delicious shivers down her spine. “You did that all on your own. I was just the lucky fellow who happened to be at the right place at the right time for that kiss.”

Lucky was right, but she was the one who was lucky. Her face heated at the memory of that amazing kiss, and she wondered if a second one would be as electrifying as the first. She had a pretty good idea that it would be.

She coughed awkwardly. “So what were you doing when I…uh…ran into you?”

It took a moment for him to answer, as if he were trying to decide what to tell her. “My associates and I were trying to figure out a way to infiltrate Reaux’s network. He’s a hard bloke to track down. And then there’s the matter of those bloody Psychic-Talents.”

“Your
associates
?” she asked.

Again, he hesitated. She was going to ask if he was in law enforcement, but then she remembered how he’d acted in the alley. It had been very clear to her that he hadn’t wanted to speak with the Night Patrol.

Her shoulders tightened beneath his strong, steady grip. He wasn’t talking about organized crime associates, was he?

“So what’s
your
issue with Mr. Reaux, since we seem to have that in common?”

“All I can tell you is that I’m part of a group trying to prevent him from hurting and taking advantage of innocent people. He and others like him commit all kinds of atrocities. We’re trying to put a stop to it.”

So he wasn’t in some rival faction vying for the same turf, she thought with relief. As far as she was concerned, anyone trying to keep Mr. Reaux from doing any more harm was one of the good guys. But a group that operates outside the scope of the authorities…?