Love's Deadly Touch (2 page)

Her eyes snapped open at that.

You gave me a second chance. If you hadn’t grabbed me, I would’ve fallen to my death.
His words held a ring of truth. Whenever the Council met, it was always on the edge of the city. The ancient meeting hall where they convened had been built into the side of a cliff with a more modern balcony that overlooked jagged rocks. With the recent rash of storms, the supports to the balcony had weakened and Simon had fallen. Since she was the closest, she had to save him. He was part of the Council.

I should’ve worn my gloves.

I’m glad you didn’t.
Warmth caressed her cheek and she went still. His touch was reminiscent of a dream, a recurring dream. One she’d had since her parents died.

Shaken, she swung her leg over the bar, straddling the metal. Once she stood on the sidewalk again, his image dissolved until there was nothing left.

Thank you.

Nodding, she stepped away from the rail, jammed her hands in her pockets and headed toward home. Had he been in her dream? And why wait until now to reveal who he was? The same gentle stroke whispered against her skin. She hesitated. Maybe because it was so close to Halloween, she questioned what she dreamed. She resumed walking.

Even as she worried about her dream, hairs rose on the back of her neck. Faint footsteps scraped and echoed on the pavement behind her. She whirled, her hands balled into fists just in front of her face while she shifted her weight to the balls of her feet.

Nothing but air.

A shiver ran down her spine as a thin laugh trilled on the wind.

She cast a glance around and breathed deep, a surge of adrenaline giving her powers a quick boost. All she needed was a target. Nothing moved, not even the shadows. She concentrated, examining each person in the vicinity with a light and easy touch. Everything was as it should be, and she resumed walking. So why did her surroundings seem off?

Dana didn’t breathe easy until she was safely ensconced in her loft apartment. She traced the intricate design of eagles’ feathers forming triangles within a circle on the back of her door, an old protection symbol someone had carved into the wood.

She looked around her home. Every room, every door, every window held a protection symbol of sorts, even her bed. A dreamcatcher hung above the headboard, while symbols were woven into the thick blue and pink bedspread. No matter what went on during her day, the moment she slipped beneath the covers, all her worries drained away and she slept with peace.

A grin tugged at her lips. Well, if meeting a dream lover could be considered sleeping. Her smile faded. Dream lovers couldn’t replace what she wanted in reality, what she needed. A sigh eased past her lips.

Halloween was just around the corner and as that day approached everyone would feel a power surge, including her. She stared at her hands, now rid of the protective gloves.

After that the Council would make its decision about her, unless... She shed her clothes and padded to the bathroom for a shower. There was one way to get the Council off her back, but the idea was so farfetched, it wouldn’t happen—at least not in time to save her and then if she was wrong, the risk was too great.

All she had to do was endure the party at her place and hope no one else decided to get hurt or worse, dead. Whatever happened, this holiday would be her last in this existence.

Chapter Two

“I can’t believe you spoke up for that girl. She’s a walking contradiction,” Amos said. He paced the room, his heavy footsteps echoing on the polished marble. “And look at you, she nearly killed you.”

Simon shifted in his chair and grimaced. Holding a hand to his side, he leaned forward to grab the glass of whiskey. It would be another day or so before he was fully healed, and in the meantime he had to endure the momentary discomfort whenever he changed positions. He regarded the other man a moment. People were so quick to condemn Dana for her actions, but without her, he wouldn’t be sitting in his leather chair sipping a whiskey.

“What possessed you to grab her hand? If you’d been injured, there were enough of us there to heal you. Danny should’ve done something about his sister a long time ago. She’s a menace, an absolute menace. One of these days she’s going to kill someone. Is that what it’s going to take to get the Council to listen to reason?”

“You wouldn’t be thinking of the daughter Dana couldn’t save, are you?”

By the way the other man flinched, Simon knew he’d struck a nerve.

“So this vendetta against Dana is just a way for you to get even? Have you even considered that the young lady in question was injured herself and too weak to tend to your daughter? Or that your daughter refused any help?”

Amos turned an interesting shade of red. He opened his mouth and Simon waved a hand, cutting him off.

“You were there. And yet you condemn her?” Simon stared at him. “Help me understand.”

The older man’s shoulders slumped and he bowed his head. “She should’ve brought her back.”

“Dana is governed by the rules of the Council just like everyone else.” Simon set his glass aside. “I imagine what she does can’t be easy, giving a piece of herself each time she uses her gift.”

“How would you know?”

Simon gazed out the large window on his right. How could he tell this man what he felt when she grasped him? The fear and loneliness he’d read in her eyes as she clutched at his clothing, the small balcony crumbling beneath his feet. Even he found it a little difficult to explain the way her life force seemed to wrap around him, and the power emanating from her seemed to invigorate him as nothing else could when she pulled him to safety.

Yet all that paled in comparison when her very essence seemed to mend the missing part of his soul. He’d wanted to enfold her next to his heart and never let her go.

When he reached for her, she’d scrambled away, her mouth and eyes wide with shock or horror. After he looked down to discover he was bleeding, he figured it to be the latter. A piece of metal pierced his side. She hadn’t done anything to hurt him, not physically. Of that he was certain, but trying to get the rest of the Council to listen to his story, well....they had their own agenda.

Many were afraid of her, opting to allow ignorance to run rampant instead of embracing their heritage and history. One with the touch was a very special gift indeed. A long time ago many people had the ability of resurrection, but their numbers dwindled until one only came along every hundred years or so. Even then it seemed as though they lived far longer than any Others, but maybe longevity was the catch for bringing life and death with a touch. Healers were plenty, but one who could bring life—well that was a coveted talent indeed.

“If she’d broken the rules, I’d have understood,” Amos was saying.

“And I’d be having this conversation with someone else. Regardless of the godlike powers we possess we are not allowed to take freewill from anyone. It is their right to choose whether they live or die.”

A loud sigh passed the man’s lips and finally he slouched in one of the chairs. “You’re right.”

Simon nodded, pursing his lips. “Someone else hurled that piece of metal at me.”

Amos’ head snapped up, his eyes wide and mouth slack.

“That’s why I fell. Someone wants Dana exposed, without the protection of the Council.” He steepled his fingers. “Do you know who would want something like that?”

“Well, her brother...”

“Really? You don’t think he has enough power to shut her down if he wanted to, if he truly considered her a threat?” A mirthless smile creased his lips. “The man heads the Security Council, polices the rest of us and he can’t control his sister? Try again. Anyone else come to mind?”

Properly chastised, Amos reddened.

“There has got to be someone. All Hallows Eve is next week. Someone is behind this.”

“A soul stealer? There’s been talk of one or two being conjured in recent years.”

Simon stiffened. A soul stealer was bad news for humans and Others alike. One of those could, at the very least, corrupt an entire generation, and at the very worst destroy them all. All a soul stealer needed to do would be to snatch a dying host’s soul and inhabit the body, then take whatever healing was offered. And if one of those came in contact with someone like Dana, it could siphon off her powers and then move through their society snatching other talents and leaving the hosts for dead. With enough magic, a soul stealer could become invincible and not even the Security Council would be able stop the destruction.
 

“Do you know who may have conjured one? Only a mage or someone dabbling in the Dark Arts could do something like that.”

Amos shook his head. “I can help you find out.”

Simon nodded in approval. “Do that.”

The other man stood and hurried from the room. Simon gazed out the window. Just before he went over the edge, he’d felt a tiny shift in energy and he’d moved. If he hadn’t, the shard would’ve done more damage than just piercing his side.

Maybe that’s what he’d felt. A soul stealer also retained the powers of the host and with All Hallows Eve approaching no one would be safe if one of these creatures were on the loose... His stomach knotted. Dana would be in terrible danger.

He placed his palm on the glass, the pane cool beneath his hand. Leaves danced along the expanse of manicured lawn and disappeared into the night. Just one touch had allowed him to see things as he’d never seen before, to connect to her on a level that endeared her to him a little bit more.

Tonight he’d almost lost her. Sorrow and grief had swamped him, choking him with its intensity until he had no choice but to intervene. If those foolish people hadn’t started in on her, when she was already so fragile...

He allowed his hand to drop. When she touched him, it allowed him to see her thoughts, her heart and into her very soul, kicking off his protective instincts. Despite all the power she possessed, she needed him. She needed more than what he offered her when she was sleeping.

For the last couple of years he’d visited her nightly, hoping to ease her worries and he thought it was helping, until tonight. Tomorrow he’d visit her, share his thoughts and his feelings. Hopefully she’d listen and confess her own, because time was running out for the both of them.

Chapter Three

I’m supposed to die.
Vivid blue eyes bored into Dana even as the weak words whispered through her mind.

“But you don’t have to,” Dana said the words aloud. “I can help. You can have a second chance.” Even as she spoke the need to heal, to take away the sting of death, surged and beat at her heart.

The woman coughed, a spittle of foamy blood oozing from her mouth. She grasped Dana’s sleeve, careful to avoid her skin.

“Please.” Dana tugged off her glove with her teeth. One touch and the woman bleeding to death would live again. Dana didn’t think about the doubts, just knew with absolute certainty that she had to give this woman a second chance, no matter the cost to herself. Sirens shrilled in the distance. A crack of thunder masked another bloody cough. The woman’s body shook with the effort. Lightening zigzagged across the heavy gray sky.

Forcing her will on the woman would be an effortless task, but taking away the woman’s freewill would only aid the Council’s case against her. She wouldn’t do that.

Please.
Dana implored the woman with words as well as thought. Light was fading from the woman’s brilliant blue eyes. For all the power Dana possessed, she couldn’t persuade this woman to choose life and she needed her consent or the results could be disastrous.

A weak smile creased the woman’s lips. “You have such a good heart. Let me show you something.”

It was faint, a flutter almost like butterfly wings whispering against the walls of her mind. A couple, blurry at first, came into view. Honey-blonde hair, an oval face. It was the woman dying in her arms.

“Sandra.”

Dana nodded in understanding. Sandra was laughing, happy. She seemed in love with the man she embraced. A chord of fear vibrated beneath the smile. It was in her eyes, in the rigid set of her shoulders. The scene changed. Images came too fast for Dana to decipher. Large mason jars filled with liquid. Chanting. Darkness. Decay assailed her nostrils. A stone altar.

The glint of a knife, its razor sharp edge coated until a single drop of crimson dripped from the tip.

Bile rose in the back of her throat as revulsion sucker-punched her in the gut.

The scene shifted. Sunshine and pain. Now Sandra was crying, bruises on her arms and neck. The man...the man shook his fist in her face. He cocked back his arm—

Dana broke the connection, anger edging past her horror and sympathy.

“That’s why.” The words were so quiet, Dana had to strain to catch them.

She looked around. The man in question slumped against the side of the twisted car. He’d been thrown from the vehicle as well, but it was Sandra who seemed to tug at her first. Dana studied the man. She could feel his life essence fading and her gift seeking to be used, yet her heart wasn’t in it.