Dark Destiny (28 page)

He was relentless in his pursuit of her. She understood suddenly. He had always hunted her, not for the reasons she had thought, but to satisfy a terrible need and hunger, the same craving she now felt. An addiction that would never stop. She couldn't find the strength she needed to free them both of this dangerous liaison.

"Where are you, God?" She cried the words out among the clouds as she had done so many times before.

The wind carried back the answer. It caressed her skin with a loving touch and affectionately ruffled her hair. The wind surrounded her, enfolded her in the beauty of the night sky. The clouds shifted to allow her to pass through them, trailing a fine mist in her wake, dusted her skin with cool vapor so that if there were traces of tears, it was impossible to see them.

Come back to me, Destiny
. His voice offered comfort. Offered paradise. Offered everything.

Why do you want me? Because I'm the light that burns so brightly you will not turn? Is that all there is between us? That and chemistry? I don't know you at all, do I?

The wind murmured to her, a soft, consoling lullaby. She could feel the wildness subsiding deep within her, settling back to allow her heart and lungs to work without effort. A small sound, faint and far off caught her attention, so that without conscious thought, she changed direction, veering back toward the city.

You have only to touch my mind, Destiny, to find the things you wish to know. To really love, you have to choose intimacy. You have to choose to know your lifemate. You have not made that choice.

I was intimate with you
! She was angry that he could accuse her of holding back. It had been difficult to commit herself physically to him. How dare he even think such a thing!

Intimacy is far more than physical, little one.

The lights of the city twinkled like thousands of stars, drawing her back toward humanity. Back toward Nicolae. She knew he waited. That he watched. Just how powerful was he? Had he somehow directed her feelings for him? Amplified them in some way she couldn't detect? Was she already in his power? She knew the answer. She was totally captivated by him. Completely. Utterly and completely.

Destiny shimmered into her human form, landing easily, lightly. She was already moving, scanning, hurrying out of the secluded alleyway onto the street. Somewhere close by was the soft, discordant note that had disturbed her flight. A child's muted crying tugging at her heartstrings. She hurried, her footsteps silent, her posture completely confident.

There were only a few people on the street so late at night. She scanned as she walked, checking the various apartments for the location of the child. Most of the buildings were dark and quiet. She could hear televisions blaring in a few apartments and music playing in others. The child was broadcasting sharp waves of grief. Unerringly Destiny turned down another side street where the apartment buildings gave way to small houses set close together. Rickety fences set a few of the properties apart, but duplexes and smaller single dwellings were built tightly against one another. Paint was chipped and peeling from the thin siding. Doors sagged, and gates were cracked and falling off their hinges.

Destiny vaulted a low fence easily and made her way around to the back of one house. Cardboard boxes and bundled newspapers were piled high, mountains of them, taking up most of the space in the tiny back yard. She should walk away, leave the city and get as far away from Nicolae as she could. But her mind was already tuning itself to his. Needing to be immersed in his.

Was it really the ritual words that had bound them together, or had her need of him started long ago? She had reached for him at every rising. His calm, his presence in the world had been her sanity. For years she had used him, forced him to share her pain, her damaged soul. She had sentenced him to a life in the shadows, forever seeking her. She had punished him with her silence, all the while sharing with him every aspect of the vampire's torture and abuse.

I was already of the shadows, Destiny. You pulled me into the light.

His voice. His beautiful voice could take her into dreamland. Could weave fairy tales and bring hope.

Could absolve her of all guilt. Her lashes drifted down as she paused beside the rotting back stairs. There was always so much guilt. Would it never go away and leave her in peace?

The sound of the hopeless weeping dragged her out of her own despair. A child should never experience such heartbreaking emotion. Destiny could feel the vibrations of violence, the aftermath that lingered in the air. And she smelled blood. She hunkered down to peer beneath the wobbly stairs. The boy couldn't be more than nine or ten years old. He was so thin, his clothes were far too wide, although his bony wrists and ankles were showing. He wore no socks and had holes in his shoes. Tears made muddy tracks in the dirt on his face. He rubbed his face continually with his knuckles, but he couldn't stop the sobs that shook his young body. There were smears of fresh blood on his clothing, but she could see no open wounds.

"Hi there," she said, using her gentlest voice, afraid of startling him. She had learned those soft, silvery tones from Nicolae. It always came back to Nicolae. "Is there room under there for me?" There was compulsion in her voice, a small "push" to make it easier for the boy to accept her presence.

He looked frightened, his eyes widening with shock, but he obligingly moved over to allow her enough space to squeeze beneath the stairs. Destiny sat tailor fashion, her body heat helping to warm the child.

"Bad night?"

The boy nodded mutely. Destiny could see the scars on the backs of his hands and arms. Defensive scars. She recognized them for what they were. "My name is Destiny. What's yours?" She held out her arms, palms down so that he could see the slash marks on her arms. The same defensive wounds. "We match."

He bent close in the darkness to examine her scars. "You have more."

"But they've faded," she pointed out judiciously. "And they don't hurt anymore. At least not on the outside. What about yours?"

"Mine don't hurt either." His gaze locked with hers. "Well, maybe a little on the outside. I'm Sam."

"A lot on the inside, right, Sam?" She brushed the pad of her thumb over the worst of the scars, leaving behind a soothing balm. "Tell me. This didn't happen tonight. Tell me what's wrong."

He shook his head, the code of the streets keeping him silent for a moment, but it was impossible to resist the lure of her voice. His lower lip trembled, but he squared his thin shoulders. "I didn't wash the dishes. I knew he'd be mad at her if I didn't wash the dishes, but Tommy wanted me to play basketball. All the kids were playing, and I thought I'd only play for a couple of minutes." His lashes were wet and spiky from his tears, and the weight in his chest was like a stone in hers.

Destiny already knew. The horror was seeping through the rickety floorboards and pervading the air beneath the stairs.
Nicolae
. She reached out to him as she always did. As she had done for years. And he was there. In her mind. As he had always been. Surrounding her with warmth. Giving her courage. Holding her in strong arms and giving her a refuge, a shelter when the pain of the world was too much to bear alone.

I'll bring him to Father Mulligan, but the police will have to be brought to this place of death
. She knew Nicolae would hear the sorrow in her voice. He would feel it in her heart. And he would share it with her and shoulder part of her burden.

"It was my fault." The thin shoulders shook, and the boy covered his face with his hands. "She came home from work and she was tired. I heard her call to me to hurry, and I ran, but I was down the block and it was too late. I saw him go in. I knew what he was going to do to her. He was always so angry. He wanted money for his drugs and he took it out of her purse. She was crying because we needed it for food. That's when he saw the dishes."

"Sam, you don't need to be in this place. I'm going to take you to a friend of mine," Destiny said gently.

Sam shook his head. "I can't leave her. He was so mad about the dishes. He kept hitting her and throwing plates on the floor. I tried to stop him, but he pushed me and she threw the coffee pot at him and told him not to touch me or she would call the police and have him arrested. That's when he picked up the knife."

She drew him to her, rocking him gently, letting him talk.

"If I had washed the dishes, the knife wouldn't have been on the sink. It would have been in the drawer. He wouldn't have picked it up. I should have just done the dishes instead of playing basketball."

"It wasn't your fault, Sam. He was ilsl, and he is responsible for hurting your mother, not you. Never you. We all put off chores. Everyone does. Procrastination does not cause one human being to murder another.
He
did it, not you. Your mother would never want you to think that. Come with me. Let me take you to Father Mulligan. He'll make certain you're all right. The police will come and they'll take care of your mother."

"They'll lock me up. He said the police would lock me up 'cause I don't have anyone else."

"Father Mulligan won't let anything bad happen to you. And police don't lock up children who have lost their parents, Sam. They help them. They find them a home with people who care about them. Come with me now." She wanted to get him away from the house, away from the man who might return at any time. Sam didn't need to see more violence. He didn't need to feel responsible for things adults did to one another.

She drew the boy out from under the sagging stairway and urged him quickly away from the house. She felt the first stirrings of apprehension as they hurried along the narrow pathway by the side of the house. The boy stopped abruptly as they gained the front yard. She felt the tremor that ran through his thin body, and she turned her head to see the man half sitting against a column on the front porch.

Her fingers tightened on the boy's shoulder, and she raised a hand to her lips to indicate the need for silence. It wasn't difficult to take control of the child's mind, shielding him from further fear. The man was obviously in a stupor, his head lolling back, his mouth wide open, his arms and clothes splattered with blood.

A low hiss of anger escaped her as she silently watched the man twitch and jerk, his fingers clenching into tight fists, then opening again. She was so focused on the murderer, she failed to notice the mist streaming into the yard, or feel the surge of power as Nicolae shimmered into solid form.

"Take the child and leave this place, Destiny," Nicolae said grimly. His palm caressed the back of her head with the briefest of touches, but it provided a comfort she didn't expect.

Destiny pulled the child closer to her. "This should never have happened. A child should never have to live this way, Nicolae. He thinks he's to blame."

Her enormous eyes were begging him to do something. Held confidence that he would. His heart turned over. Nicolae wanted to drag her into his arms, to point out that when she was a child, she thought herself to blame for things she had no control over, but he knew she had to come to that knowledge on her own. The realization had to be more than intellectual, it had to be in her heart, her soul, right where the scars were.

"Take him away from here. Father Mulligan is expecting you, and the police are on their way. They will not find me in this place." His voice was very gentle.

Destiny met his gaze. Some of the tension eased out of her. "Thank you, Nicolae. I'm grateful that you're here." She reached out and touched his arm. A mere brush to answer his, but her heart was swelling with joy as she turned away. She couldn't help the way she felt every time she looked at him. There was pride and confidence and chemistry and a curious melting deep inside her. A part of her might always fight to avoid admitting how deeply he had entwined himself around her heart, but she could admit to herself he was a large part of what was good in her life.

Destiny lifted the boy into her arms. The child circled her neck trustingly, leaned into her for shelter. The childish gesture of trust disarmed her. She tightened her arms protectively and took to the skies. She wanted to give this boy something to counteract the terrible memory of his mother's death. Placing him in a dreamlike state, she flew through the sky, drifting through clouds and allowing the joy of flying to fill the boy's mind and heart. He would always carry the dream with him, always have a sense of soaring free through the night sky.

Destiny had little else to give him, and it bothered her. She wanted to be able to free him of the weight of guilt. To somehow make him understand that he was a victim, a survivor, that his life could be rebuilt. As she took him around the small church's steeple, she wondered how her life had gotten to this point. It wasn't long ago that she had lived a solitary existence, yet now her life was intertwined with so many people.

Father Mulligan was waiting for her in his garden. He smiled a gentle greeting as Destiny released the boy from the shield. There was a soothing quality to the priest that even the distraught boy couldn't fail to notice.

"This is Sam. Sam, my friend Father Mulligan." She hunkered down to the boy's level. His fingers were digging into her arm, clutching at her for protection.

The boy made a strangled sound as the priest turned his attention on him. He stepped closer to Destiny and her heart turned over. "Nicolae explained?" she asked Father Mulligan.

The priest nodded. "Sam, you'll be safe here. A friend of Destiny's has spoken with the social service worker, and she has agreed to allow you to stay in the rectory with the other priests and me for the time being. There is a priest here that you will find very easy to talk with. He's waiting for you now. There are also two police officers who need to speak with you about what happened. Just tell them the truth. I will be with you if you like while you explain what happened."

Sam squared his thin shoulders and nodded, but his gaze was pleading as he looked at Destiny. She smiled encouragingly at him. "Father Mulligan is a priest, Sam. He doesn't lie and he's greatly respected. He'll make certain you are well cared for."