Touched by Darkness (23 page)

tell? The referee? The point stands."

Damien's eyes flashed. "Is that so?" He edged

around her, toward the ball. "I'm going to win, even

with you cheating."

"Really? And just what do you call that Robocop

speed thing you do?"

"Natural ability." He made a dash for the ball,

scooped it up on the run. "Alex, go out for a pass."

Giggling, Alex dashed away at a perpendicular

angle and Damien heaved the ball about forty feet

toward the tree line. Alex expertly took control

with his feet and moved it back toward the goal.

"Damn Sentinel powers," Kara muttered, chasing

after the men. "Hey, this is soccer, not football!"

she yelled.

"Deal with it," Damien called over his shoulder.

"Yeah! Deal with it," Alex repeated, looking back

and grinning from ear to ear.

Her son was having a blast, Kara realized. And he

appeared totally at ease with Damien, who was far

more intimidating than any of the other men in

Alex's life. Yet Alex didn't appear at all intimidated,

and she could only guess he felt more comfortable

with his own kind. A disconcerting thought—that

her son was a member of another race.

Refusing to dwell on those thoughts, she raced after

the guys. Jumping back into the skirmish, she

managed to 'accidentally' trip Damien and send him

sprawling again. She quickly learned the error of

her ways when an invisible shove sent her flat on

her butt a moment later. Sitting on the ground, she

glared at Damien, who was a good fifteen feet

away.

"Do you really want to talk about cheating?" she

demanded.

He offered a feral grin similar to her earlier one.

"No, I want to talk about winning."

Rediscovering the competitive spirit of her youth,

she pushed off the ground and took off after the

ball. They went at it hard, laughing and shouting,

until she finally collapsed on the blanket. "No

more," she said, gasping and still laughing at the

same time.

Alex collapsed next to her, and flopped onto his

back. "Hey Mom, you have leaves in your hair. You

look really funny."

"Well so do you, kiddo. You have dirt on your face

and your hair is sticking straight up. Mr. Macho

Robocop over there doesn't look much better."

"Ah, but I won." Damien strolled to the blanket and

stood over them like a giant vulture. Grass stains

covered his sweater and jeans.

"Yeah, right, you used brute force to make those

last two points."

"A win is a win," he said smugly.

"Hey!" Alex bounced up like a jack-in-the-box.

"I'm starving! Can we go get something to eat?"

"I don't know." Kara glanced at her watch. The

daylight was already fading. "It's getting late, and

Mr. Morgan probably has other plans."

"Mr. Morgan, don't you want to eat with us? Say

yes!" Alex pleaded.

Damien hesitated, as if considering his options. "If

your mother doesn't mind," he said finally, meeting

Kara's gaze. "I'm pretty hungry myself."

"Well, then," she said, surprised. "I guess that

settles it. Dinner at the Busy Bee?"

"I have another idea," Damien said. "How about the

Gristmill in Gruene? I've never been there, but I've

heard it's a great place to eat." He glanced at his

own watch. "We should be there by six, before it

gets really crowded."

"It's always crowded." Kara started gathering up

the thermoses and mugs. Alex was on his knees,

rocking up and down and giving her his
Please

Mom, please!
expression. "But okay," she

conceded. "They do have good food."

"Yes!" Alex crowed, leaping to his feet to do a

victory dance. "The Gristmill!
Yes!"

More surprises,
Kara thought as the evening

progressed. It had taken about thirty minutes to

wind their way down 281 and 46 to Gruene, and

then another twenty minutes just to find a parking

space and navigate the people and cars to get to the

Gristmill, right around six o'clock, just as Damien

had predicted.

The restaurant was already packed, despite it being

off-season for tourists, so they put their name on

the waiting list and hit the bar before finding seats

on benches in the outdoor courtyard. Damien had a

draft beer, while Kara had a glass of red wine and

allowed Alex a soft drink.

A two-piece band played guitar and banjo and sang

country ballads, while the names of those whose

tables were now available were scrawled on the

huge blackboard and then erased with amazing

speed. It was chilly, but fun, despite the oddity of

being there with Damien, or with any man, for that

matter. They didn't talk much over the music, just

listened and sipped their drinks.

After a twenty-five-minute wait, they were shown

to a table that was fortunately inside rather than on

one of the outside tiers. It was impossible to see the

Guadalupe River running alongside the restaurant

at night anyway, and it had gotten even colder. Kara

watched in amazement as Damien consumed two

more beers and chicken poblano quesadillas for an

appetizer, a huge Gristburger smothered in queso

sauce, and every one of the round-cut fries on his

plate.

"Fast metabolism," he said when he caught her

staring.

"I know." She picked at her grilled chicken salad,

remembering Richard's incredible metabolic rate.

"Disgusting."

"No, actually, it's a boon when the food is good.

Anyone want dessert?"

Kara declined, but Alex was all for it. He and

Damien agreed to split a chocolate supreme, but

Damien ended up eating most of the fudge pie and

Blue Bell ice cream (after Alex took care of the

whipped cream and cherries). The man obviously

had a sweet tooth and she sourly hoped he had lots

of cavities—it was only fair—but she knew better.

Sentinels also had an amazing immune system and

recuperating powers, and rarely suffered malaises

regular humans did. Richard had never had a cavity

in his life, and Damien would probably be the

same. Alex was almost never sick, had never even

had strep throat.

They left Gruene around eight, Kara pleasantly full

and definitely starting to wilt, energy wise. She

must have fallen asleep during the drive back to

Zorro, because she came awake abruptly when

Damien said her name.

She looked around, disoriented, and squinted

against the interior car light. Damien was outside

the car, leaning into the back to unfasten Alex's seat

belt. Her son was sound asleep. "Where are we?"

she asked, still groggy.

"Your house. Both of you slept most of the way."

"I'm sorry." She unfastened her own seat belt,

pushed out of the car on stiff legs. "That was rude

of me."

"You needed the rest." He stood with Alex in his

arms. "I'm guessing you haven't been sleeping very

well."

"I guess you're right. Mac, hush!" she admonished

the barking dog as she started toward the house,

pulling her keys from her purse. "If you don't mind

carrying Alex inside, you can just put him in bed.

He probably won't wake up."

"I think we wore him out."

"Yes."
Wore me out, too,
she thought wearily.

She pulled back Alex's covers and Damien lowered

him to the bed. She tugged off her son’s jacket and

shoes, covered him, and kissed him.

"I'd better go and let you get some rest. Tomorrow

—" He let the word trail off, and Kara thought of

what lay ahead. Today had simply been a

temporary diversion from a vicious reality.

She followed him to the front door. "Thank you for

being so patient with Alex, for taking the time to

instruct him. Do you think he's catching on to

shielding himself?"

"Yes. He's very smart, very intuitive." Damien's

gaze locked with hers. "Kara, his abilities are

developing at a rapid rate. There is nothing you can

do to stop their natural progression."

Her chest tightened. "I know." Just as she knew she

could no longer ignore Alex's powers or make them

go away.

"He's a fast learner." A slight smile teased Damien's

mouth. "But I think he liked the soccer game best."

"I have no doubt of it. He really misses having a

regular male figure in his life.
However,
cheating to

win a game is
not
setting a good example for him."

She strove to keep her tone and gaze stern, but

failed miserably.

"Really." Now Damien did smile. "I think striving

to win is a worthy goal."

"Is that a male, or a Sentinel, viewpoint?"

"Both," he said, exuding dangerously charismatic

masculinity.

She grasped the door handle, decided to change the

subject. "Thank you for dinner. You didn't have to

pay for ours."

"It was my pleasure. Good night, Kara." He turned

and strode into the darkness.

She locked the door behind him, sank onto the sofa,

and sat there a long time. She couldn't remember

how long it had been since she'd had such an

enjoyable day. Damien had been attentive, fun,

even charming. It was unsettling, though, because

Sentinels simply weren't social beings.

Richard had been very much the loner, although

once he understood that social events and niceties

were important to Kara, he'd made an effort to

attend the occasional party; to take her out to eat, to

remember holidays and special occasions. But it

wasn't an intrinsic part of his nature and had

required a deliberate effort on his part.

Yet Damien had seemed relaxed, had appeared to

truly enjoy himself. While that should have put

Kara more at ease, should have been reassuring,

instead it was disconcerting. Because, she realized,

it made Damien seem human. That was a very

dangerous assumption to make.

She didn't want to be attracted to him, not as a

conductor to a Sentinel, and certainly not as a

woman to a man. But her innate honesty forced her

to admit to herself that she
was
attracted to him;

and worse, being around him seemed to be

awakening a gaping loneliness within her.

For years, she had suppressed her personal needs in

order to take care of Alex, and to build them a safe

life. But now, she felt a longing for male

companionship. For all the things a relationship

entailed— adult conversation, holding hands,

kissing and being held, sizzling sex, the daily ins

and outs of sharing lives.

She missed the feel of a man's hands on her, of his

physical possession of her body, missed the

intimacy of bed talk and cuddling in the dark hours

of the night. While she had convinced herself over

the past seven years that her life with Alex was

enough, now she found herself envying those

couples who had normal, loving relationships.

But there was nothing
normal
about Damien, or

about the situation that had brought him to Zorro.

She must remember that. Her loneliness was

causing her attraction to him—a futile and

dangerous attraction, at that.

Besides, this wasn't about her, or her needs. It was

about a monster without conscience, and the threat

to Zorro—and her son. If the Belian Damien was

tracking stayed true to form, there would be more

murders.

Then she would have to decide how far she was

willing to go to help Damien hunt down this

monster ...

And how much of herself she would sacrifice.

Damien did his daily meditation on Sunday

morning. Then he worked out, using the free

weights he always carried with him, and doing

lengthy sets of abdominal crunches and push-ups.

He also worked through several of his martial arts

kata routines, repeating them until his moves and

kicks were flawless.

After that, he ran five miles, most of it along River

Road. He kept his senses tuned as he ran, but he

didn't pick up anything, nor did he see the

lightning-damaged tree that he'd envisioned during

the conduction.

Returning to the bed-and-breakfast, he showered

and spent the rest of the day researching all the

murders in central Texas over the past year, and