Defeat the Darkness (30 page)

Her eyes flared wide in fury. But before she could tear into him but good, the door behind them opened and Mabel stepped out onto the porch with a glass of lemonade in her hand.

“Why, hello, Tate. I didn't know you were out here or I would've brought you a glass, too. I figured Hunter might need a break about now from all the hard work he's been doing for us.” She held on to the handrail and carefully walked down the steps. “Isn't it wonderful that he's going to be staying with my sisters and me for a while? That's a real shame about the plumbing problem in your garage apartment. I hope they can get it fixed soon.”

Then the elderly woman smiled at him, showing off her dimples. “Well, not
too
soon. We like having such a handsome young man around. He works too hard, of
course, no matter how many times we tell him that we don't expect him to earn his keep.”

“How nice for all of you, Mabel.”

Tate's smile for her elderly friend appeared genuine, nothing at all like the snarky one she shot in his direction. So be it. Two could play at that game.

“I was going to stop by and ask if you'd called the plumber yet, Tate. I'd like to know when it will be livable again so I can move back in.” There—let her field that ball.

Her voice dripped sugar. “Why, yes, I have, Hunter. Unfortunately, he can't get a crew here for days, perhaps weeks. That's why I suggested you might want to look for alternative housing. You know, like in town.”

Mabel wasn't a fool. She glanced from Hunter to Tate and then back again. “Okay, you two. What's going on?”

“Nothing, Mabel. Everything's fine.”

Tate's attempt to placate her friend flopped big time. The other woman drew herself up to her full height and sighed heavily.

“Tate Justice, I never thought I'd see the day that you'd lie to me. This has all the earmarks of a lover's quarrel. Are you two fighting?”

“No, we're not fighting,” Hunter hastened to assure her, but then realized that left her assumption about them being lovers unanswered. Before he could address that issue, Tate spoke up.

“Our relationship is nothing like that, Mabel. Not that we have a relationship at all.” Then, as if realizing how ridiculous that sounded, she tried again. “What I mean is I'm his landlord, nothing more.”

“I'll repeat what I just said, since you didn't seem to understand me. I don't like being lied to. Now maybe it's yourself you're lying to, but I can tell you this much. I've had my share of landlords over the years, but never once did we shoot sparks like you two do whenever you get within ten feet of each other.”

Then she shook her finger at Hunter. “And you, young man. I suspect you've also misled me and my sisters about the circumstances which led you to our door. You can still stay with us because I issued the invitation and won't go back on my word. However, I suggest you do what you can to mend the fences between you and our Tate here. Do I make myself clear?”

What could he say to that? “I'm sorry about all of this, Mabel. Why don't you let me see you to the door so Tate and I can talk in private?”

“All right, but I expect a full report.”

As he helped her up the steps, he kept a wary eye over his shoulder to see if Tate was going to bolt. But no, she stood there waiting right where he'd left her. Judging by her expression, their talk wasn't destined to be a pleasant one. That was okay. He was in the mood for a good dustup, as D.J. would call it.

As soon as Mabel was tucked safely back inside the house, he braced himself for combat and marched back to where Tate stood waiting. He stalked past her without waiting to see if she'd follow him. If she didn't, he'd toss her over his shoulder and haul her off into the woods so they could rip into each other in private. In fact, he almost wished she'd refuse. Right now a few caveman tactics held definite appeal.

He stopped a few feet away. “Well, are you coming?”

Tate slowly shook her head, more than a hint of suspicion in her expression. “Why can't we talk here?”

He jerked his head back toward the house. “Because those women might be a little hard of hearing, but they're not deaf and they're not stupid. If you want to discuss all the pertinent details of the past couple of weeks in front of them, fine with me. I just thought you'd appreciate a little discretion.”

Before he could take more than a step in her direction, she was on the move.

“Where are we going?”

Anywhere he could get her to go, like back to that big cedar where he'd first kissed her. But somehow he doubted that's what she meant.

“For a walk.” He shot her a heated glance. “Or we could talk in your kitchen. We'd have plenty of privacy there.”

She immediately veered across the yard, heading directly for the woods where the path led down to the beach. “Stop it, Hunter. We both know that wouldn't be smart.”

Maybe not, but when it came to Tate Justice, he wasn't feeling very intelligent. He fell into step beside her, content to let her take the lead. As they walked along in silence, he struggled to find something to say, something that would ease this awful strain between them. It wouldn't do to get too comfortable. Nothing had changed.

And the bottom line was he didn't want to hurt her any more than he already had.

A short time later, they reached a clearing that looked out over the islands dotting that stretch of Puget Sound. He wondered if he'd ever get used to the incredible beauty that the locals seemed to just accept as a matter of course. Or if he'd be there long enough to find out. His goal in coming to Seattle was to find out how much of his old life he could salvage. Despite his longtime friendships with Jarvis and others back in Missouri, he was finding life here in the Pacific Northwest unexpectedly appealing.

And not only because of the woman standing next to him.

“So why did you wangle an invitation from Mabel and her sisters to move into their house?”

“I needed someplace to stay. My reasons for coming to Justice Point haven't changed. The danger hasn't gone away.” He shifted his stance slightly in order to keep her in his sights while still watching the waves crash on the rocky beach below.

She rubbed her hands up and down her arms, as if she found the shade of the trees too cool for comfort. “I see. And your buddies, where are they?”

“Why do you care?” Maybe he could've put that a little better, but being this close to Tate and not being able to touch her made it hard to control himself.

“I just want to make sure that you aren't
all
imposing on my friends.”

That did it.

“If you're that worried about the Aunties, I can always move back into the apartment. As I recall, the rent's paid for another two weeks.”

Just that quickly, her expression went from angry concern for her friends to guilty. “I was going to refund your money, but I didn't have a forwarding address. I'll go get my checkbook.”

“Keep it.”

For the first time she looked straight at him. “No, I'm the one who asked you to leave, so I owe you.”

He fisted his hands to keep from reaching out to shake some sense into her. He doubted it would work anyway, and touching her would be mistake of monumental proportions.

“You don't owe me a damn thing, and I don't want you to pay me back, Tate. What's more, I'll be insulted if you try.”

She was definitely his equal when it came to stubborn. “But it would only be fair—”

“Who gives a rip about fair? Nothing about this is fair.” If life were fair, his landlord would've been an elderly man, not the feisty beauty standing beside him.

“Hunter, I want—”

“You gave up all rights to wanting anything from me, which only shows how smart you are.” He ran his hands through his hair in frustration. “Look, I can't leave the area, not until the problem I was sent here to handle is resolved. The other night made it clear that it isn't a one-man job, so Larem and the other guys will be hanging around, too.”

He glanced back toward the house behind them. “I wanted to stick close by, so I conned my way into staying with Mabel and her sisters. I'd just as soon have stayed in the apartment, but that didn't work out. So here's the
deal: I'll continue to stay out of your way and you'll stay out of mine. When it's safe to leave, I will. I understand why you don't want me around.”

Her eyes looked glazed, as if she was fighting tears, but it was hard to tell in the dark shadows of the trees. Damn it, the last thing he wanted was to make her cry, but he'd meant what he'd said. He'd do his best to stay out of her way until he could safely disappear from her life altogether.

“Do we have a deal?”

“I don't guess I have much of a choice, do I?”

He'd been right. There was a tear slipping down the curve of her cheek. She ignored it, so he did too.

Then she did something totally unexpected. She stepped close enough to whisper near his ear, “But you're wrong on one count, Hunter. I do want you, and
that
is the real problem.” Then she kissed his cheek and walked away.

Tate resolutely turned her attention back to her book, doing her best to ignore a certain former tenant. Okay, the man was going to drive her crazy, if she wasn't already there. Hunter was holding to his promise to leave her alone, yet he still found ways to remind her that he was close by. Like yesterday morning, when she'd unlocked the door of the tea shop to find a container of fresh-picked blueberries sitting on the porch. Or when she'd made a trip in to town and returned to find her lawn mowed.

Right now, he was leaving on one of his nightly
prowls. It was a relief to know he wasn't headed for the woods at the back of her property. But that probably meant one or more of his friends were down on the beach. She worried about them almost as much. But the real problem was that watching him stroll by in the darkness was a surefire guarantee that she'd be dreaming about him. Again. And she suspected that he'd been watching her too. Before he'd realized that she'd spotted him standing in the shadows across the road. She hoped that he was as miserable as she was.

It certainly didn't help that the Auntie Ms still made their daily trip to her shop for tea and the paper. Somehow they always managed to turn the conversation around to the latest thing Hunter and those nice friends of his had done for various residents of Justice Point.

Windows had been washed, minor repairs made, cars tuned up, and enough wood split to keep the drafty old Victorian homes heated for much of the coming fall and winter. Tate kept telling herself that she wasn't jealous, that she was actually happy for her friends, many of whom were elderly. An uneasy mix of the two feelings was closer to the truth.

The handyman marathon probably served two purposes for Hunter and company. It gave them something to do when they weren't patrolling for aliens, but it also gave them an excuse to hang around without people wondering what they were up to. Had anyone bothered to wonder why they had so much free time on their hands? Probably not, even though they certainly didn't act like the usual tourists who visited the area.

Not that any of it was her concern. She had enough to
take care of without worrying about… Hunter. There. She'd admitted it. No matter how things had turned out for the two of them, she didn't want him hurt. As long as he was still hanging around Justice Point, he was in danger. Hadn't he been hurt enough? How much could that super-duper secret organization he served ask of one man, special genes or not? Who did they think they were?

She'd seen his scars and his pain. He deserved a better life than more of the same until he was all used up. They all did.

That did it. Slamming her book closed, she marched down the stairs, determined to confront Hunter. He had no business risking his life—or lives in his case—so carelessly. Righteous indignation carried her as far as the road. Determination took her a bit farther. Temper and plain old-fashioned stubbornness kept her going until she reached the turn in the road where the trees blocked out the last bit of light from the houses behind her.

The darkness settled her. She paused to breathe in the spicy scent of the fir trees and the faint dampness in the breeze rolling in from the Sound. The silence was comforting rather than frightening, because she wasn't really alone. Not with Hunter standing right behind her. Perhaps she was fooling herself, but she could swear that she could feel the warmth of his tall, hard body despite the distance between them.

“I don't suppose it would do any good to remind you that there are scary things that go bump in the night around here.”

His husky voice rasped over her nerves with a powerful jolt.

She slowly turned to face him. “Scarier than you?”

The bit of moonlight through the trees wasn't enough to allow her to see him clearly, but that didn't matter. Her mind and heart were plenty able to fill in the blanks.

“I'm not all that scary.” There was a hint of a smirk in his answer.

“No, but you can't deny that you're dangerous.” Especially to her heart.

He moved closer. She let him.

His fingers skimmed down her arm as he whispered near her ear, “Why did you follow me, Tate?”

“Because I'm angry.” Although she didn't sound that way, even to her own ears. No, she sounded needy.

“What have I done this time?”

As he spoke, he shrugged off his jacket and wrapped it around her shoulders. The leather held both his body heat and his scent. She should've refused it, but the comfort of its buttery soft warmth eased her spirit.

“I'm not mad at you.” She sighed. “Well, yeah, I am, but that's not what I'm talking about now. I'm really, really furious at those people you work for. How dare they treat you and your friends with such disregard for your well-being? You aren't some kind of weapon meant to be used up and tossed away.”