Tapestry of the Past (11 page)

The pain in his head was excruciating.

He’d been such a fool to think he was in control, to believe he was safe because he was feared.

He should have been more careful.

“Steele! Get over here quick!”

The shout brought Gabriel’s head around with a snap. His heart stopped beating in his chest when he saw
Kalesia
pitch head first onto the dirt floor.

“
Kalesia
!” Gabriel wasn’t aware of his roar as he raced to her side.

He rolled her over gently. Her face was dead white. In the hollow of her throat, a pulse beat frantically.

“
Kalesia
, wake up. Come on, sugar, wake up.” He patted her cheeks. He looked up and pinned the nearest man in place with a glare. “What the hell happened?”

The man looked almost as shaken as Gabriel felt. “I don’t know. I saw her as we were arriving. One second she was sitting, the next stiffening up like she was having some kind of a seizure.”

“Back up. Give her some air. She’s coming around.” Harley’s words brought Gabriel’s gaze back to
Kalesia
. Sure enough, her lashes were fluttering and, beneath the closed lids, her eyes flickered.

“That’s it, sweetheart. Wake up now.”

“Gabriel?” The words were raspy and dry. She looked startled at the sea of faces hovering over her and struggled to sit up.

“
Shh
, easy does it. Take your time.” A hand at her back, he helped her. Using his knee as a brace, he cradled her against his shoulder.

“What happened?” She leaned into him, letting him support her weight.

“You passed out. Can you tell me what happened?” He hugged her tighter, his heart just starting to settle down to a normal pace.

She stared at him. “Impossible. I never faint!”

“You did this time. What happened,
Kalesia
?” he insisted, too disturbed to care what he was revealing to the men surrounding them.

A deep spasm ran through her. “Oh God, Gabriel, I had another vision!”

“You mean another murder?” It was Harley who asked.

She shook her head fretfully. “No, no. It was the same man. He was sitting there,” her finger shook violently as she pointed to where she had been sitting. “Someone came up behind him and hit him on the head!” Her voice rose shrilly. She bit her lip, obviously fighting for control. After a minute she continued.

“It was someone he knew. Someone he expected. There was such a sense of betrayal…and self-recrimination.”

“Self-recrimination?” That didn’t make a lot of sense. Betrayal, fear, confusion, those Gabriel could understand but not self-recrimination.

“I think they were working together. At least, that’s the impression I got.”

“What else do you remember? Think carefully,
Kalesia
. Every detail could be important.”

“Shoes,” she said suddenly. “Shoes. I remember the other man’s shoes. They were black and expensive. The shine on them was perfect.”

They were all quiet for a moment. Gabriel broke the silence.

“In your first vision, do you remember seeing the same shoes?”

Kalesia
closed her eyes, her brow crinkling. “The killer moved next to the body. He crouched as he ran his finger over first one cheek and then the other.” Her hand gripped Gabriel’s, her short, neat nails biting into his skin. “Yes! Yes, I do. Moonlight glinted off shoes in my vision.”

“What did they look like in that vision? Were they shiny or dull?”

“Shiny. Almost as shiny as they were here.”

Harley spoke up. “Take her home, Gabe. We’ll take over from here.”

“I’m not going anywhere. You still need my help,” she contended, shooting a desperate glance at Gabriel.

Her look of betrayal slashed through him when he agreed with Harley. He tried to lessen the blow. “You passed out. You need time to recover. Let them handle it from here.”

“I’m fine. How are they going to find the body without me?” She shoved at his chest. Reluctantly, he loosened his hold.

“They’ll find the body. We know he didn’t go very far because his shoes weren’t dusty. That limits the search range.” Gabriel tried to sound reasonable. He could tell by the set of her mouth that
Kalesia
wasn’t in the mood to be reasonable.

“Hey, Major. Take a look at this.” All heads turned.

Harley crossed to where his deputy crouched. On the underside of the wooden table was a small patch of what could be dried blood. He got to his feet, careful not to disturb the area any more than it already had been.

“Hansen, radio for a forensic team. Oh, and get hold of Charlie and tell him to bring his dog. Then take Steele and Ms.
Brannigan
back to town so they can pick up their car.”

“Major Harley…”
Kalesia
pleaded.

“No argument.” His expression softened. “Let me do my job.”

Gabriel squeezed her shoulders in warning. “You’ll let us know when you find something?” he said to his friend.

“The minute.” Harley turned away, his attention already elsewhere.

“Gabriel, I don’t want to go home. I want to stay here.” She shrugged his arm off. “It isn’t fair. I can be of help.”

“Harley will let us know what he finds. You can’t just ignore the fact you fainted.”

“It was just the shock of the vision. It won’t happen again.”

“You can’t be certain of that. The vision caught you by surprise this time, what’s to say it wouldn’t again.” He allowed a hint of impatience to color his low tones.

“It won’t,” she maintained. “I think I reacted so strongly because of the resonance left by his presence. It triggered my vision. It’s the first time I’ve actually been at the scene of one the crimes.”

“That’s exactly what I’m driving at. Look,” Gabriel gripped her chin and firmly turned her face to his. “It overpowered you when the violence was comparatively minor. What do you think would happen if you stumbled onto his grave? Hell, what do you think would happen if you found the exact spot where the killer pulled the trigger?”

Long lashes lowered, extinguishing the defiant, pleading gleam in her eyes. She sighed in defeat. “All right, Gabriel. We’ll go back to your house.”

* * * * *

Tipped back in his favorite chair, Gabriel stared at the night-shrouded river.
Kalesia
was withdrawing from him. He could feel it. He closed his eyes against the unexpected pain.

His right hand fisted and then slowly opened.

He knew she was feeling as resentful as hell because they had not allowed her to help with the search. Hell, maybe she even had a point. Maybe she did have the right to be there when they found the body. All he knew was that when he saw her white face and haunted eyes, he wanted to bundle her up and promise nothing would ever frighten her again.

She’d shrugged off his attempts to explain. Just pled weariness and headed without a backward glance toward her room.

Alone.

The creak of bedsprings carried clearly on the night air. Gabriel glanced at the open window just feet away, a self-derisive grimace twisting his lips. A drape fluttered in the light breeze. No light showed but it didn’t stop his imagination.

Just like last night. He had sat out here on the balcony and listened to the small sounds from the woman in the next room.

She made him feel like a damn voyeur.

A strand of night jasmine, trailing down from the hanging pot over his head, swayed in the breeze. He reached up and moved it, taking care not to bruise the soft petals. The sweet, pungent fragrance mingled with the fresh cool scent of the river, spinning a sensual web around his senses. Hunger swirled to life as its exotic scent reminded him inexplicably of
Kalesia
.

Gabriel shifted, irritated. Son of a bitch. He didn’t need this again tonight. It was a wonder he wasn’t walking permanently hunched over. The damn woman was going to cripple him yet.

She’d be wild. Passion would make her bottle-green eyes luminous. His mouth went dry as he pictured her nails raking his back, her legs wrapped around his waist.

He shook his head to dispel the image.

Gabriel cursed long and fluently when the fantasy refused to go away. Hell, if she learned how much he craved her, the touch of her mouth and hands on his body, the feel of her moving under him, he’d be handing her a power over him he had never allowed anyone.

The front legs of the chair thudded to the wood floor. He got to his feet. In the hallway, Gabriel told himself that he had the strength to resist even as he came to a stop in front of
Kalesia’s
door, his hand on the knob. Turn around. Leave. Now. His hand clamped down on the doorknob as Gabriel argued with himself. If he left now,
Kalesia
need never know. All he had to do was return to his room.

The doorknob turned quietly under his grip.

He was just going to check on her, he justified silently. See if she was all right. She’d been upset earlier.

Gabriel padded silently across the room. He noticed with a sense of relief that the drapes weren’t drawn.

He was just going to make sure she was safe, he told himself again as he came to a halt beside her sleeping form.

Staring down at her, Gabriel admitted to himself that he’d lied. He wanted to do more than check on her. Much more. He wanted to crawl in bed beside her, hold her, shape her gently rounded form with his hands. He wanted to be inside her. So deep inside he could forget, even if only for an hour.

Forget the faces, forget the blood, forget the taste of pain.

Kalesia
stirred, her lashes lifting. She blinked sleepily, then asked huskily, “What’s the matter?”

“I can’t sleep.” Gabriel closed his eyes in despair. It wasn’t what he wanted to say.

Chapter Seven

Kalesia’s
eyes slowly focused. Silvery light gleamed off a sleek flank.

Gabriel was naked.

Her gaze slid up. Etched on his face was a kind of agony.

She lifted the covers.

Gabriel went perfectly still, then came to her in a rush. “God, I need you so much tonight.”

She closed her arms about him, feeling, but not fully understanding, the urgency pulsing through the hard, strong body. All she could do was respond to it. It’d be easier to stop breathing than to say no to this man tonight.

“I shouldn’t be here,” he muttered against her throat, his mouth tasting, teasing, nipping the sensitive area.

Luxuriating in the gently savage caress, her head fell back. Her hands explored the massive shoulders. She sensed the internal struggle going on within Gabriel and asked, “Why are you?”

“I couldn’t help myself.”

The undercurrent of disgust that laced the words caught her attention. Knowledge, sharp and clear, burst forth from where it had been hovering on the edge of her awareness.

Gabriel patterned his entire life on the concept of control.

Looking back, she grasped the undertone of his initial rejection. Her talk of visions was the antithesis of everything he valued. Visions couldn’t be fitted into nice, comfortable niches. They couldn’t be controlled.

Kalesia
contemplated the alluring picture of Gabriel out of control.

“I don’t want you to be able to help yourself,” she murmured, tasting the hot skin of his chest. She wanted him caught in the same welter of emotions that snared her.

He lifted his mouth from her neck and stared down at her. “Oh no, you don’t, witch. You’re going to be the one unable to help themselves. I’m going to fuck you until all you can see, feel or think about is me. I want to hear you beg to take me inside you. Trust me,
Kalesia
. Just hold on and leave everything to me.” One large hand shaped the soft fullness of her breast. He brushed the roughened pad of his thumb over the nipple.

Kalesia
arched beneath the light caress. A delicious ache began in the pit of her stomach as his mouth and hands began to work magic on her. A tiny moan escaped. She shook her head, trying to clear it.

Gabriel wanted to play it safe.

He wanted her trust but was unwilling to give the same in return. She couldn’t let it happen, she realized in sudden, sure knowledge. If he won this battle, he would stay hidden behind that invisible wall forever.

Barely able to think, assaulted by the swirling storm he was relentlessly building in her, she clung to one truth.

Gabriel wanted her.

Against his better instincts, he had been unable to stay away tonight. That knowledge gave her the strength to wedge her hands between them.

Startled, Gabriel drew back.

She smiled up at him, a small curve of her lips that was as old as time. He looked instantly wary. She traced the strong line of his mouth with one burgundy-tinted nail. Gabriel had an utterly sexy mouth, a mouth that tempted a woman into contemplating forbidden fantasies. Resting her index finger against his lower lip, she realized his mouth had fascinated her from the beginning. A chill that had nothing at all to do with cold, chased down her spine when he opened his mouth and took the tip of her finger inside. Her nipples tightened when he curled his tongue around her finger.

His eyes glinted in the moonlight, hot satisfaction in them

Fresh determination surged. “Do you believe in witchcraft, Gabriel?” she asked, her voice low and throaty. With the tip of her finger, she teased the sensitive inner lining of his lip, using his moisture to ease her path. His breath hitched when she slipped her finger in and out of his mouth in a suggestive rhythm. She slid her finger down, ever-so-slowly, over his chin, past the hollow of his throat to his chest, leaving behind a thin veil of wetness that glistened. She spread her hand over his heart. It was pounding. Beneath her palm, she felt the small nipple wake and pressed harder, enthralled by the ripple of response that raced over his skin.

He moaned. “You’re playing with fire,” he warned, the words deep and guttural. He moaned again when she rotated her palm.

“Um-um. Never with fire. Witches aren’t particularly fond of fire, you know,” she teased, a wonderfully wanton and wicked feeling welling up inside her. Giving a light shove, she was delighted when he obeyed the silent command and rolled onto his back.