Tapestry of the Past (9 page)

His eyes went to her hands.
Kalesia
became aware she was holding the mug as if it were a lifeline. She forced her fingers to relax. He straightened away from the doorway.

“Got enough of that cocoa for two?” He went to the cupboard and took down a cup without waiting for her answer. He poured the last of the hot drink and set the pan in the sink after filling it with water. “Since we’re both awake, we might as well keep each other company,” he said, snapping off the light and leading the way into the living room.

He didn’t bother turning the light on and
Kalesia
was thankful. Gabriel was too observant and she felt too fragile to keep up the pretense that there was nothing was wrong. Curled up on the sofa, she’d just taken a fortifying sip when he spoke.

“Why do you need to calm down?”

Kalesia
choked on the mouthful of hot chocolate. “W-what?” she sputtered.

“I asked why you needed to calm down.” He sat there in the shadows, staring at her over the rim of the cup, with the infinite patience of a hunter.

Kalesia
thought about lying and then decided he would see through the attempt. “I had another vision,” she stated baldly.

“About your murder?” he asked in a noncommittal tone.

“No.” Her teeth chattered against the side of the mug as she took another sip.
Kalesia
hastily lowered it. “No,” she repeated, “it wasn’t my death I saw.”

“Tell me,” he ordered.

Kalesia
shot a glance in his direction, straining to make out his features. “Why?”

“I need to know.”

“Why?” she asked again, unable to banish the hurt and wariness caused by the memory of Gabriel calling her a flake that first night.

“Because to help you, I have to understand what it is you see.”

“You believe me, then? When I say I have visions of other people’s murders? You made your opinion of visions and of me, clear.”

“I don’t disbelieve you,” Gabriel qualified.

Her mouth twisted. Well, at least he wasn’t calling her a flake again.
Kalesia
set aside the cooling liquid.

“This time was so strange,” she began slowly. “It started out smudged, more emotion than detail. Yet there was something about it that, I don’t know, felt familiar. Then it changed.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, at first I had the impression of a man and a table and blood. Lots of blood. On the man, on the table, on the floor. I could make out a knife.” She frowned. “At least I think it was a knife. Oh, I’m not sure what it was. It’s so hard to explain. The images were like a grainy tintype which has sat neglected in a closet for years.”

Gabriel set the mug down on the small table beside his chair with great care. “That’s different from what you normally see?”

“Oh, yes. While what I see often makes little sense, the images are crystal clear. It’s like looking at photographs taken out of time. Sometimes they’re in motion, sometimes they’re stills. But they are always very crisp.” Far too clear for comfort.

“You said at first. What did you mean?” He leaned forward, propping his elbows on his spread knees and clasping his hands between them.

The casual pose didn’t fool her in the slightest. She had his full attention.

“I tried to wake up when I realized what was happening.” She moistened her lips. “I almost succeeded.” She shook off the memory and continued. “It’s weird. One moment I got the definite impression of a room but the next I was in a forest.” Frustrated, she rubbed her temples. “I don’t know. Maybe the room was in a nearby cabin.”

“But you don’t think so.”

“No, I don’t think so.”

“Tell me what you remember of the second man, the one in the forest.”

“Pain. He was in so much pain. His hands were tied behind his back. So tight,” she swallowed the lump in her throat, “I could feel the muscles in his chest ripping from the tension of his bonds. He was kneeling in the dirt. The man holding the gun made him put his face on the ground. Then he shot him.” She stared at the wall but
Kalesia
didn’t see the bland white wall. Leather shoes filled her vision. Dirt crusted her lips. Expensive cologne vied with the earthy scent of the forest at night.

“It’s okay, sugar. You’re here. With me. I won’t let anyone hurt you.”

She became aware of the soothing cadence of Gabriel’s voice murmuring in her ear, of his arms wrapped around her as if he’d never let her go. His hand stroked over her hair, his touch soft as the brush of a dragonfly’s wing. The fresh, male scent of Gabriel replaced cloying cologne. Leather became denim.
Kalesia
closed her eyes and absorbed the heat and strength of his body. Finally, she relaxed. For the first time since childhood, since before the visions, she felt safe. She was grateful that Gabriel sensed her need for silence. Seemed content to hold her, to move his hand over her head and down the length of her braid. Over and over.

She wanted to stay that way forever.

A tiny sigh shuddered out. But she couldn’t. Head feeling too heavy for her neck,
Kalesia
tilted her head back so she could look into his eyes.

“What are we going to do now?”

“We’re going to see Harley first thing in the morning.” His palm shaped the back of her head and exerted just enough pressure to snuggle her face back in the hollow of his throat.

“He won’t believe me,” she told him flatly.

“He will this time.”

“How can you be so sure?” She tried to move so she could see his face. He tightened his hold. She settled back down. Why fight what you want, she told herself, putting her arms around his waist.

“I can be very persuasive.”

That was an understatement, she thought with a spurt of weak humor.

“Do you have any idea where the murder took place?”

She nodded, her cheek rubbing against the soft denim shirt. “The Ocala National Forest.”

“That’s a pretty damn big area to cover.”

“I think I can narrow it down.” She slipped her hand in the half-open shirt and rested her hand on the swell of pectoral muscle. If flexed beneath her palm. Unable to resist, she petted the hard muscles of his chest. She wanted to purr. His skin was like warm, raw silk. She bit a protest when he covered her hand with his, preventing her from exploring further. After a long moment, she whispered, “Gabriel?”

“Hmm?”

“I wish they were just dreams. Nightmares. It would be so much easier. Dreams I could handle.”

Chapter Six

Something tightened inside Gabriel at the fervent wish.

Keep your mouth shut. Never let another person see inside you. Remember the creed that kept you alive?

“Don’t bet on it,” he countered harshly, unable to stop himself. “Dreams gnaw at a man.”
Stop before you say something that can’t be taken back. Before you make her too curious, have her asking questions you dare not answer
. “They probe for fine fault lines in the nether regions of the mind so they can slip in faces, places and events better forgotten.”

Despair filled Gabriel. Why now? Why lose control now? Was it because he knew intimately the fine thread sanity hung by in dreams that were more than dreams? Knew that the tapestry of the past walked the night to haunt the present and make a mockery of the future?

A fine sheen of sweat popped out on his brow. He wrapped her braid around his hand until his knuckles shone white.

Able to handle dreams? A bitter smile shaped his mouth.

He was an expert on dreams. Dreams that slipped into a man’s mind the way a blade slid into flesh…easily and without resistance. A man wouldn’t even know he was bleeding until he looked down and saw the blood pooling at his feet.

Maybe he’d be doing her a service if he disabused her of the notion that dreams were better than visions.

“Dreams aren’t easier to handle. Sometimes, they’re infinitely harder. They play the past over and over, so vividly that a man would do anything rather than fall asleep.”

“Is that what they do to you?”

Gabriel refused to answer. Instead he asked a question of his own. “Why do you think dreams would be easier?”

“Because then I wouldn’t have to worry whether this time someone will believe me. Because dreams wouldn’t chase away someone I…” Her words trailed away, leaving a fraught silence.

Someone I love, he finished silently. It left a sour taste in his mouth. “Who did you chase away?”

Kalesia
stirred. “I-I’d rather not talk about it.”

“Who did you chase away?” he pressed, the knot in the pit of his stomach beginning to burn.

She tugged on her braid, freeing it and got to her feet. Her arms went around her waist in a protective gesture. “I said I don’t want to talk about it. And don’t push. You don’t have the right,” she said, her voice tight.

“The hell I don’t. I’m trying to save your life.”

“What does that have to do with any previous relationships?” she demanded.

Nothing. Everything.

“Haven’t you ever considered the possibility that he might be behind the threat on your life?” There had been a man. Gabriel tried to tell himself that
Kalesia
was a grown woman. That it was only natural she had loved before. The idea shouldn’t bother him but it damn well did.

“Why should he?” She rounded on him. “He walked out on me!”

“Why?”

“Because I was naïve enough to share one of my visions, that’s why. Satisfied? Believe me, once I confided in him he couldn’t get out of the relationship fast enough. Last I heard,” she said with strained casualness, “he had married. A nice, normal woman.”

Not making eye contact, she made for the stairs. “Look, it’s getting late. Since we have to get up early to see Major Harley, I think I’ll go to bed.”

Gabriel watched as she disappeared upstairs. What the hell had he expected?
Kalesia
had very high fences around the issue of her ability.

Even knowing that, he hadn’t been able to resist, needing to know everything about this woman. She was driving him fucking crazy.

Then, slowly, a smile curved his lips. Her lover was married. The fucking idiot had actually left
Kalesia
for another woman. Satisfaction, instant and fierce, welled.

Only to have a cold chill douse it just as quickly. What did she feel toward the man now? Pain had glittered in her eyes. Did she still carry a torch for the jerk? Did she lay in bed at night remembering and yearning for his kisses and caresses?

The image made him growl.

If she was going to lie in bed and yearn for anyone’s touch, it was going to be his. He remembered the feel of her hot sheath, the smell of her arousal as she set his every nerve ending on fire. He’d make damn sure of that. He’d seduce his redheaded witch with sweet words until she couldn’t remember the son of a bitch’s name.

Shit, who was he kidding. He’d never been any good with sweet words. A knife, a pistol, a rifle, his hands, but not with the hot, sweet words needed to lower a witch’s guard enough to let a man crawl in beside her and warm himself at her fire.

His hand closed into a fist, then slowly opened.

Gabriel put one foot on the first stair tread. It was for the best. The last thing
Kalesia
deserved in her life was him.

Dear God, he wished it could be different.

At the top of stairs, he paused, staring at
Kalesia’s
closed door.

Wished he could be different.

He shook his head. Too late for that. Years too late. Better keep his mind on the matter at hand. He’d find the killer in
Kalesia’s
vision and then send her back home. Safe. Untainted. From the killer.

From him.

He crossed the few steps to his door, entered and closed it firmly behind him. Not pausing, he went directly to the French doors and stepped out onto the balcony.

Gabriel sank down in the white rattan chair and propped his feet on the rail. The soft shirr of crickets made a familiar song as he rocked the chair back onto two legs and stared at the stars.

* * * * *

“I hate police stations.”
Kalesia
dragged on Gabriel’s arm, trying to slow him. It was like a Volkswagen Beetle trying to slow a freight train.

“It’s not a police station. It’s a sheriff’s office,” he returned. “Quit stalling. You have more excuses than Carter has little liver pills.” His grip tightened on her arm and he pulled her along with implacable intent.

“Talk about splitting hairs. You know perfectly well what I mean,” she grumbled, nearly running to keep up with his longer stride.

He slanted her an amused glance but didn’t slow until he stopped at a desk and leaned a hip against it. “Harley in?”

Deputy Gary Parker looked up from the report he was typing. A wide grin split his face. “Gabriel! Where the hell have you been, man? It’s been months.”

“Working.”

Gary shook his head. “When you
gonna
learn that all work and no play makes Gabe a hermit?”

“Figured out the difference between English ivy and poison ivy, yet?”

A bright red flush stained the young man’s face.
Kalesia
forgot her own complaint and stared, fascinated.

“Ah, hell.
Ain’t
you ever
gonna
let me live that down?” The young deputy squirmed under her interested stare.

Kalesia
turned to Gabriel, one brow raised in question. “Poison ivy?”

Gabriel just smiled slightly and settled more securely on the edge of the desk.

She turned to Deputy Parker. “Well? Is someone going to tell me?”

Parker ran a finger under the edge of his buttoned down collar. He cleared his throat. “Uh, well. The department needed three people to go undercover in a landscaping business. I, uh, I volunteered.” Deputy Parker began to look uncomfortable.

“What he means is that he wanted to get close to Deputy Bailey. Deputy Janet Bailey.”

“Yeah, well. As I was saying, I volunteered. Major Harley sent me, Janet and Pompano out to Gabe’s for enough training to pass muster.” He shot Gabriel an aggrieved glance. “How the hell was I supposed to know it was poison ivy? I’m a city boy. We don’t have poison ivy in Portland, Oregon.”