Touched by Darkness (18 page)

living room talking to his officers, Chief Greer

looked up and glared at them as they went by, but

had nothing to say to them.

The cold outside air hit them like a slap, but

Damien found it refreshing, a welcome change

from the oppressive stuffiness of the house and the

smell of death, tainted with the stink of evil. Kara

seemed uncertain in her direction, so he steered her

toward her house, across the grass and away from

the curious onlookers. Fortunately, Chief Greer had

just come out on the porch, and the crowd's

attention focused on him.

Damien maintained his hold on Kara's arm as they

walked. He could feel her tension. "I'm sorry for

your loss," he said, knowing words were never

enough, yet all he could offer.

"Yeah." She stared straight ahead, the thick fall of

her hair framing her face.

He couldn't see her features. Like most small-town

roads, Virginia Avenue had no street lights; the only

illumination came from lighted windows, and the

stars and nearly full moon above. She stumbled as

they walked across the uneven yard, and he

tightened his grip on her arm to steady her.

"Where's Alex?"

"Oh, no! How could I have forgotten him? He's

with the Roberts family, on the other side of Doris.

He took her cat over there." She tried to twist back

the way they had come. "I have to get him."

He tugged her forward. "Not right now. You need a

little time to pull yourself together, and to decide

what to tell him."

"No, I—" She dug in, turned to face him, her face a

pale oval in the moonlight. "This is my fault. I

dreamed about Doris's murder last night. I should

have done something."

Her words went though him like an electric shock.

She had
dreamed
about the Belian crime? "Did you

see the Belian's face?"

"No." She pulled free of his grasp. "I didn't even

realize it was Doris in my dream, because I'd never

been in the back of her house, and she was turned

away in the bed. But I should have known.
I should

have known!"

"There was no way you could know," he said. "This

is not your fault. Surely you realize that."

"When I had that dream vision last night, I knew

what it was—that it would come true. And I didn't

do anything. Not a damned thing! I should have

called the police, should have told someone." She

wrapped her arms around herself. "And all this

time, Doris was just lying there, all alone."

She started toward her house. He followed,

knowing she was suffering both grief and shock.

He'd seen it enough times to recognize the signs. It

didn't matter how many powers he had, he couldn't

heal a wounded, grieving human spirit. He didn't

speak until they were on the porch and she was

opening the front door.

"Kara, listen to me." He waited until she angled her

head and met his gaze, tear trails glistening on her

face. "Even if you'd known for sure it was Doris in

the vision, by the time you had the dream, it was

already too late to help her. The best way you can

help her now is work with me to catch her killer.

We've put this off longer than we should have. This

thing is escalating, and we have to stop it. You
must

conduct for me."

She slowly turned toward him, anger flaring in her

eyes. "You
would
use Doris's death to your

advantage. You bastard!"

"Yeah, you're right, I would. I would use anything

to catch this Belian."

"And that's all you care about, isn't it? It doesn't

matter to you that an innocent woman is dead. That

she probably had ten good years left, that she's

leaving behind three children and five

grandchildren, who all adore her."

In his mind, he saw the pitiful, bent body of Doris

Burgess. Any death of an innocent was

unacceptable. He felt a chasm in his tightly held

control, felt the simmering rage slip through.

"Yes it matters," he said fiercely. "God damn it, it

matters! How do you think I feel, knowing there's a

monster within my reach, and if I don't stop it,

more innocents will die?"

Fury ripped through him, and he whirled away, his

fists clenched, needing to tear something apart. He

settled for stomping down the steps and picking up

a thick branch that had fallen off the nearby pecan

tree. He snapped it like it was a twig, and hurled

the pieces away. "I have to live with two murders

already, knowing it's
my duty, my responsibility,
to

stop this monster, and that I've failed so far. And

every day that goes by is more time for it to destroy

someone else."

He kicked at another branch, set it flying. His chest

heaved and he fought to bring himself under

control. The red haze receded, but the frustration

and knowledge that he was no closer to stopping

this Belian continued to torment him. He raked his

hands through his hair, vaguely aware of his leather

binding falling off and the feel of hair flowing

against his face.

Damnation.
Somehow Kara managed to get

beneath his skin, to shake up his control. He looked

up to find her standing mute on the porch, her eyes

huge and dark as she stared at him.

"And to know," he continued, "that for every

person who dies, others are devastated by the loss.

That a human life touches many other lives, that

one single violent action has an exponential ripple

effect, the potential of causing pain on many

levels."
As well he knew, from personal experience.

He exhaled deeply, tossed his hair from his face,

and mounted the steps to the porch, willing himself

to calm. He felt his Sentinel persona returning,

slipping into place like a weapon into a holster.

"Yeah," he said, his gaze locked with Kara's. "I'm a

bastard, all right. But, as The One is my witness, I

will hunt down and destroy this Belian."

Her expression hardened. "Good." She turned and

went inside.

He followed her to the kitchen, leaned against the

counter while she telephoned Mary Roberts and

told her she'd be over for Alex within the hour.

Then she put two mugs of water in the microwave

and dug out some tea bags. He'd have preferred

coffee, and that laced with something with an

alcoholic kick, but was willing to go with the flow,

especially if it soothed Kara.

She remained silent while she fixed the tea, and he

welcomed the time to ensure his own emotions

were again deeply buried. She was still pale, her

eyes haunted, and her hands shaking slightly as she

handed him his tea and then seated herself at the

table. He slid into the chair next to her and waited

for her to work through the trauma of the evening.

He would still push for—insist on—a conduction,

but he'd give her time to settle down first.

She stared down at her mug. "Doris was my friend.

And these past few days, I doubted her. I thought

she might be the—" She shook her head, looked

him, tears glinting in her eyes. "I thought she might

be possessed. How could I think such a thing?"

"Because anything is possible with a Belian,

especially one this strong. It could have possessed

any number of bodies. Old or sick people are easier

targets. Your logic was sound."

She dropped her gaze back to her tea. "I know that,

but still."

Chaos, doubt, suspicion, hatred, despair.
Belians

had that effect on everything around them. They

were the spawn of Belial, may his soul burn in the

Fires.

He leaned forward. "What can you tell me about

your dream?"

She relayed what she'd dreamed, methodically and

with an astonishing amount of detail, although her

voice shook at times. He was amazed at how

closely her vision resembled the physic picture

he’d 'seen' at Doris's house.

"What do you think was in the syringe?" he asked.

"I don't know." She thought about it a moment. "It

could have been insulin. An insulin overdose would

be fairly quick acting and could produce symptoms

of heart failure. A needle mark in her arm wouldn't

be suspicious, because she is—was— Oh, God."

Her voice broke again, and she took a deep breath

before continuing. "Doris was diabetic and took

insulin injections."

"So that would be a logical way to take her out, and

if that proves to be the case, then the Belian wants

the deaths to look accidental—for now," Damien

mused. "It also means it knew Doris well enough to

know she took insulin, and how to get around her

house."

"Which reinforces the theory about the Belian

possessing the body of someone who lives in

Zorro," Kara said. "I didn't want to believe it."

"But it sure looks that way." Damien noted the

time. "I'm going back to Doris's house later tonight.

I didn't have a chance to gather all the information,

but I suspect it's going to be very close to your

vision."

"Oh, it will be." She gripped her mug, her knuckles

white. "My cursed dreams are accurate right down

to every bloody detail."

"Kara, you should have called me immediately

when you found the bod—Doris. You knew, or

suspected, the Belian had killed her. You also know

it's very important that I scan a Belian crime scene

as soon as possible."

"I didn't think." She stared sightlessly at the

opposite wall. "I couldn't think of anything, except

how she looked, lying there in that bed. Then... I

grabbed my phone, and it was an automatic reflex

to dial 9-1-1. It was all I could manage."

"I know it was hard. But it's crucial that I know

right away if anything else happens. Is that your

phone?" He pointed to the leather case clipped on

her belt, and she nodded. "Let me have it a

moment."

She unclipped it and handed it to him without

comment, watched as he entered his mobile number

into her directory, then handed the phone back to

her. "My number is in there now, and if anything

happens, I want you to call
me
first. Don't call

anyone else until you talk to me. Understand?"

"Sure, whatever," she said dully.

They sat in silence a few moments, Damien

mulling over how to convince her to cooperate on a

conduction, without having to use coercion.

Suddenly she turned toward him, determination

firing her gaze. "I'm not going to let Doris's death

go unchallenged. And I'm not going to let this—this

thing
hurt anyone else. I'll help you track this

monster."

He came to full attention. "You'll conduct for me."

She held up a warning hand. "Only on one

condition."

"And that is?"

"There will be no physical intimacy. No

unnecessary touching, no kissing, and
no sex."

He started to protest. Sexual intercourse created the

most powerful conduction and would be more

effective with this strong Belian. But he saw the

resolve on Kara's face, knew her past experiences

as a conductor had put her through hell. She

wouldn't capitulate. He was lucky he wouldn't have

to go against the Sentinel code of honor and force

her. He'd take what he could get.

"All right," he said. "We'll do it tonight."

Kara stared down at her son. He was sprawled on

her bed, one hand tangled in Mac's fur. Both were

sound asleep, courtesy of a mental push from

Damien. She hadn't been wild about that, but knew

Alex was too wound up to sleep. She told him

Doris had died in her sleep and hadn't suffered any

pain—probably true, although it glossed over the

fact Doris had been murdered.

Alex had still been upset and clingy, and worried

that now Doris's ghost would join that of the other

ghost and come to their house. Which Kara

supposed was a disturbingly real possibility, given

the way things had gone lately.

She felt a brush of heated energy behind her, knew

Damien was there. Apprehension and physical

awareness swept through her. She leaned down to

smooth Alex's hair and kiss his cheek before she

straightened and faced Damien. He had returned to

Doris's house to finish examining the crime scene,