Touched by Darkness (34 page)

until proven guilty?"

"Look, if she's innocent, the police won't find any

evidence to link her to Brown's murder. But there

are some things about Luz that I find very

suspicious."

"Like what?"

Damien started the car, checked the mirror, and

pulled out. "She's got a chronic illness that weakens

her physically, she drives a white Ford F-150—"

"Sal drives a white Ford F-150, so does Tom

Greer," Kara said. "I know you're looking at them.

Sal was the one who found the body. Don't

murderers often return to the scene of the crime?"

"They do sometimes. I am looking closely at both

Sal and the chief, but Luz stands out more strongly.

We know she and Matt were dating, and your

dream showed that Matt knew his killer. He also

used a Spanish phrase, right? Sunday night, I saw

Matt hit Luz, and I saw how angry she got. I sensed

some sort of power from her."

"Matt hit her?" Kara felt sick and shaky all over

again. "I can't believe that."

"He did, but he was drunk at the time. He might

have treated her just fine when he was sober."

"It can't be Luz." Kara stared out the window,

although she barely saw the scenery passing by.

Her thoughts shifted to Matt, who'd come to her

office a few times. He was a healthy young buck,

and like most men, he didn't visit a doctor very

often. But he'd needed the occasional stitches for

minor wounds, and the required tetanus shot. He'd

been handsome and charming, and her nurse and

receptionist had been very attentive.

Now he was dead.

She hated herself at this moment. A young, vital

life was snuffed out, and she could have done more

to prevent it. "I'll bet you think I'm a selfish bitch,"

she said suddenly.
And maybe l am.

Damien shot her a surprised glance. "Why would

you say that?"

"Because if I'd had sex with you during the

conductions, Matt Brown might still be alive. And

there's no telling who else is going to die before we

catch this monster."

He returned his attention to the road. "I know I've

pushed you on the sex, and I won't deny that it

might have given us a little more to work with. But

it's no guarantee the Belian can be identified

quickly, and it still usually takes several sessions to

get a sure identification. This is a very powerful

Belian. Second-guessing what may or may not have

worked is useless." He looked at her again. "And,

for the record, I don't think you're a bitch, or

selfish."

She felt a flush of gratification that he wasn't

judging or blaming her, but that didn't negate her

feelings of guilt. Even the tiniest edge might bring

them closer to the Belian's identity.

"Conduction sex might have helped." She stared

down at her hands, and made the decision. With

Alex safely out of the way, she was finally ready to

fully engage in the battle. She would have to push

away the painful memories of Richard. This was

her town now, and she wasn't going to let a Belian

destroy it.

She looked at Damien. "The next conduction will

yield better results."

He turned sharply, met her gaze. "Meaning?"

Her heart started pounding in her constricted chest.

This is the right thing—the only thing—to do,
she

told herself.

She forced a deep breath. "I'll have sex with you."

#

Ah... the rush of a fresh kill, the power and glory of

the blood.

And all that wondrous energy from a young, vital

life. The fear, the adrenaline
—
like the headiest of

nectars. I should have drawn it out longer, made

him beg for his life. The sniveling bastard. But it is

enough. I can feel the strength of Belial coursing

through my body, as pitiful a shell as it is. But I am

becoming stronger, more powerful. Soon I will have

a far better vehicle to represent the magnificence of

Belial. I think I want an even younger, fresher life

force for my next kill. Yes, younger...

Glory to Belial, to the blood, and to the

undefeatable power of the darkness.

#

Alex liked his grandparents. They were kind of old,

but they didn't move slow like some old people did,

and they exuded good energies. After they'd picked

him up in Birmingham and driven back to

Huntsville—
not
the place where the prison was—

they'd taken him to dinner at a cool place called

Ruby Tuesday.

Grandma and Grandpa talked about the things they

were going to do with him—take him to the space

museum, visit Guntersville Dam, look for

arrowheads along the Tennessee River, and even a

trip to Chattanooga to the aquarium. It all sounded

iced.

He knew he would enjoy all that stuff, but he was

kinda worried about his mom and the bad stuff

going on in Zorro. He didn't like her staying back

there with that Belian thing running around,

although he wasn't exactly sure what a Belian was.

He was glad Mr. Morgan was with her, because Mr.

Morgan had a lot of power. The power was

something Alex didn't understand completely, but

he knew it was like magic and he believed it could

fight evil. Maybe even defeat Darth Vader.

He'd talked to his mom Tuesday and Wednesday,

and she'd sounded okay. She just kept telling him to

have fun. And he was, for the most part. He'd been

okay until the ghost came to him Wednesday night.

He was in bed, watching TV, when the strange stuff

started happening.

Some books on the desk started moving around,

and the pen on the little table by the bed lifted into

the air, then fell to the floor. The light flickered,

and he heard the same strange whispering he'd

heard when the ghost came to his house last week.

Then the TV started going on and off. It was freaky.

Mr. Morgan had told him the ghost wouldn't hurt

him, and that he should listen to it, as long as he

kept his shields up. But he was scared. He ran to

his grandparents' bedroom and crawled into their

bed. They thought he'd had a bad dream and they

let him sleep with them, which was cool, because

they had a
giant
bed, and because the ghost didn't

come in there.

But the problem was he
knew
the ghost probably

wouldn't go away. And he knew he couldn't pretend

to have a bad dream every night. He thought about

it most of Thursday, and decided maybe he needed

to talk to someone about the ghost. But he knew

Grandma and Grandpa wouldn't understand. Mom

had told him they didn't know about Sentinels or

any of that stuff. There was one person he might be

able to talk to, though.

Alex walked to the front door, which was open.

There was a glass storm door that kept the heat in.

He stared across the street, at a small house that

Grandma said had been empty until yesterday.

Then a man had rented it, which surprised

Grandma, she said because it had been empty for

months. She also said she'd never seen anyone

move in with so little stuff—just some things in the

back of a small truck. The man also had a

motorcycle. A really cool, big motorcycle with a lot

of chrome and black.

But the most interesting thing was that the man

'felt' like Mr. Morgan did. He put off an energy that

felt like the Sentinel power. Alex had watched him

on Wednesday while he was moving in. Then he

had carefully put out mental feelers, being sure his

shields were up, and he hadn't sensed anything dark

or bad—just the same energy he picked up when he

was around Mr. Morgan. He was fairly certain the

man was a Sentinel.

He knew he wasn't supposed to talk to strangers,

and he knew he had to be extra careful talking

about Sentinel stuff. But he was afraid the ghost

would come back tonight, and he really wanted to

tell someone about it.

Now it was getting late, and Grandma was fixing

dinner—except she called it supper. Alex figured he

needed to do something before it got dark.

"Grandma," he called, "can I go outside for a little

while?"

"Sure, sweetie," she called back, sounding a lot like

Mom, only older. "Put on a jacket, and don't go far.

Stay where I can see you. We'll be eating in about

twenty minutes."

"Okay.' He slipped on his jacket and pushed open

the door and went down the steps. The man was in

his driveway, drying off the motorcycle, which he'd

just washed.

Alex walked slowly down his grandparents'

driveway, studying the man, ready to bolt back to

the house if he felt threatened. The man was big,

like Mr. Morgan, but he had blond hair, which he

tied back like Mr. Morgan, only it was longer,

partway down his back. Alex took another step.

The man glanced at him when Alex reached the end

of the driveway, but then he squatted and returned

to the drying. This close to him, Alex could really

feel the flare of power. He checked it carefully and

still couldn't feel any darkness. He stood there a

long time, debating whether or not to cross the

street.

"Are you going to stare all day, or are you going to

say what you want to say?" the man said suddenly.

Alex's heart jumped in his chest, and he almost

turned and ran— almost. "Hi," he said uncertainly.

"Hi, Alex." The man sat back on his heels.

"You know my name." Alex wondered if this might

be a trick.

"I know a lot about you."

Alex found himself taking a step into the road.

"Who are you?"

"I'm Luke." The man stood and dusted off his jeans.

"If you're coming over, I'd suggest you do it. I'm

sure your mother has told you not to play in the

street."

"I'm not supposed to talk to strangers, either."

"You're talking to me, aren't you?"

"Well... yeah."

The man—Luke, like Luke Skywalker!—smiled

real big. He didn't seem as serious as Mr. Morgan.

"So why are you making an exception and talking

to me?"

"Because you don't seem like a stranger. You have

the power," Alex blurted. Belatedly, it occurred to

him that maybe he shouldn't be talking about the

power to anyone.

Luke nodded. "Yeah, I do. You're pretty good, to

pick that up. So what do you think that means?"

Alex considered, decided to take a chance. "I think

you're a Sentinel."

"The same as you?"

He wasn't supposed to tell anyone, was he? "Uh,

maybe," he hedged.

Luke laughed. "Good boy. You have to be very

careful who you tell." He bent down and picked up

a container and started spreading a white paste on

the motorcycle. "What can I do for you?"

"I have this problem." Alex took another tentative

step.

Luke gestured impatiently. "Look if you're coming

over, do it all at once. You can stand on the other

side of the bike if you're nervous about me. I

promise I won't bite."

"Sentinels bite?" Alex asked in amazement.

Luke laughed again. "No. Well, at least not most of

the time. That's just an expression."

"Oh." Alex decided to be brave—or at least pretend

that he was. He walked across the street, stopping

on the opposite side of the motorcycle from Luke.

Luke went back to waxing the motorcycle. "So

what's going on?"

"There's this ghost..." Alex began.

Kara didn't tell Damien she was going to see Luz

before she went to her office. It had been enough of

a battle to get him to allow her to drive herself. She

realized it was probably foolhardy for her to even

consider visiting Luz alone, in view of Damien's

suspicions and her own doubts—which she couldn't

bring herself to acknowledge. She did pocket her

pepper spray, but knew it would offer little, if any,

protection against a Belian.

Most likely, she wouldn't be the one to break the

news to Luz, but she needed to be there to offer

support. Luz had been a good friend, and a

surrogate mother to Alex. Kara wasn't sure how

involved the relationship with Matt had been, but

she knew Luz had been seeing him a long time, and

would probably be grief stricken. Damien would

not be a welcome presence.

Luz's house was a small cinder block structure