Touched by Darkness (4 page)

willing herself to remain upright and steady.

Managed to find her voice. "What do you want?"

He slid the glasses in his duster pocket, then leaned

against the car, seemingly relaxed. "To talk about

Alex."

The shock of hearing him say Alex's name sent her

reeling again. He knew her son's name! Anger

followed on the heels of that knowledge. How dare

this man pry into their lives; how dare he drag Alex

into this?

She forced back the fury, reaching for calm

rationality. There was nothing this man could do to

Alex and her. True, he was one of
them. A Sentinel
.

He was powerful beyond human imaginings, and

very dangerous, but he was also bound by a strict

code of ethics. He could never hurt innocent

beings. She refused to let him intimidate her.

"I have nothing to say to you. Get off my property."

He straightened, all indolence gone, replaced by

intense purpose. "I think we have plenty to

discuss."

He strode to the steps and mounted them steadily,

his gaze never leaving her. Kara stepped back

involuntarily, grabbing the edge of the door. It

wasn't far enough. The stranger's close proximity

launched an invasion into her personal space.

She felt the electricity leap between them, a

lightning bolt of raw chemistry. She'd only ever

experienced such a reaction with Richard, had

assumed it was specific to him and her. The

horrifying realization that she could encounter the

same thing with this man sent her staggering

backward into the house. She groped for the door

handle, gripped it tightly.

He tilted his head, his gaze assessing. "You're a

conductor."

Oh, God.
He felt the shocking chemistry, too. And

he was far too close to another area that she had

walled off seven years ago. Utter panic surged

through her, evaporating all traces of indignation

and anger. All thoughts of trying to deal with this

man fled. All she could think about was survival.

Getting away from him, and the threats he

presented.

"Get off my property now, or I'm calling the

police." She slammed the door before he could

move, shoving the bolt home.

Shaking violently, she ran to the phone by the

couch and snatched it up. She punched 9-1-1, but

nothing happened. She disconnected and tried

again. It took another fumbling moment before the

fact there was no dial tone registered. She heard the

bolt on the door jiggle and looked up. Horrified,

she watched as first the bolt, then the door handle,

turned smoothly.

She threw down the phone and ran to grab her

purse off the dining room table. The door swung

open, and the stranger loomed in the doorway.

"Go away!" Kara screamed, fear pushing her

beyond reason. She dumped her purse on the table,

snagged her cell phone.

"It's no good," he informed her. "It won't work."

"It will, it will," she chanted like a mantra, trying to

activate the phone. Nothing. It was dead, like the

other one.

She stared at the phone, a sense of inevitability

dulling the mindless panic. Along with it, she felt

something else—a soothing swirl of reassurance,

almost like a physical, calming touch. It took a

moment to realize the source. She dropped the

phone onto the table and turned toward the

doorway.

"Don't," she said sharply, glaring at the stranger.

"Don't use your so-called magic on me."

He stepped inside and closed the door behind him.

"Then I suggest you calm down. Unless you want

to upset your son further." He nodded toward the

other side of the couch, where Alex huddled against

the wall, sheet white, his terrified eyes huge as he

clutched Mac against him. He had come back into

the living room and probably watched everything

out the window.

What a muddled mess her near-hysteria had caused,

especially considering it had accomplished

absolutely nothing. She went to her son, sinking

down on her knees and wrapping her arms around

both him and Mac.

"Oh, sweetie, I'm sorry I upset you." She kissed his

head, inhaling the musty scent of a little boy who

needed a bath. "It's okay now."

"But Mom," he said, his voice wavering, "what

about
him?"

Kara lifted her head and glanced at the stranger,

still standing beside the front door, watching them

intently. "It's okay," she said carefully. "He'll only

be here a little while. I'm sorry I yelled at you

earlier and pulled on your arm. I guess..." She

paused, not certain there was any way she could

explain her erratic behavior. "I guess I lost my

temper."

"But you never lose your temper," Alex said, then

thought about it a moment. "Until today."

Remorse tore at Kara. Twice in one day, she'd not

only yelled at her son, but physically manhandled

him. She'd probably blasted him emotionally as

well, since he was highly sensitive to the feelings

of others

"I'm sorry, sweetie," she said hoarsely, her throat

tight. "I'm having a bad day. It's not your fault.

We'll discuss it later. Right now, I need to talk to

this man."

Alex looked uncertainly from her to the stranger.

"He feels funny," he said. "I don't like him."

So he could sense the power. Kara had never had

any way of knowing how Alex might react if he

were around others of his kind— until now. She

strove to reassure her son. "Silly boy. He's on the

other side of the couch. How can you tell anything

about him from here?"

But Alex remained serious, his distrustful gaze on

the stranger. "Listen," Kara said, shifting back.

"Why don't you go to your room and watch
Star

Trek?
Take Mac with you."

Alex nodded, but he seemed reluctant as he stood

and headed toward the hallway. With a low growl

toward the stranger, Mac followed, his tail still

tucked between his legs.

Dreading the coming encounter, Kara rose and

walked to the fire, seeking its warmth. She turned

her back to the flames, keeping a wary watch on

the stranger. He shrugged out of his duster and

tossed it over the arm of the sofa, then started

toward her.

"I didn't invite you to stay," she protested.

"I don't stand on formalities." His voice had an odd

rasp to it, not unpleasant. He closed the distance

between them, moving to her side.

She realized it had been a mistake to position

herself in front of the fire. Now the stranger had her

virtually hemmed in, with the flames behind her.

This close, he was even more intimidating,

towering almost a foot over her own five foot, six

inches.

He wore a red pullover sweater and faded jeans

over his impressive physique. His face appeared

even harsher, defined by high cheekbones beneath

slashing steel eyes. His full, sensual mouth had a

ruthless set to it. Energy sizzled between them,

permeating her skin and moving through her body

like molten lava. How could a virtual stranger have

such an effect on her?

"So you're a conductor," he said, certainty in his

voice. What he thought he knew and what she

would admit were two different things. It was far

too frightening to go down the same path she'd

traveled nine years ago. She forced herself to meet

his penetrating gaze. "I don't know what you're

talking about."

"Yes you do. In town this morning, you recognized

my power immediately. Since you're not a Sentinel

or a Belian, that leaves only one possibility." He

stepped closer, and she tensed. "And there's no

denying the energy between us."

His words, enhanced by the electricity arcing

between them, conjured up shockingly erotic

memories. Memories of Richard, and of him and

Kara naked and entwined, their bodies locked

together in a frenzy of passion. With them, it had

been like a fever in the blood, a hunger that

couldn't be sated.

Richard had told her it was a chain reaction of

chakra energy, automatically ignited when certain

conductors and Sentinels were in close proximity.

Yet there had been more than just sex between

Richard and her. She chose to believe that the

reaction itself was simple lust, fueled by chemistry,

no more, no less. It could be controlled
—
mind over

matter.

"I don't feel anything," she lied. "You've barged

into my house uninvited, talking foolishness. I want

you to leave."

"You're a conductor, and your reactions to me,

earlier and now, prove it. Besides, you just told me

not to use magic. Why would you say such a thing,

if you didn't know what I am?"

He had her there. She knew he wouldn't leave now.

His extraordinary powers had ensured he'd be able

to ferret out her secrets, despite her resistance. Not

that she'd been very cool or level headed. She

stepped away from the fireplace, putting some

distance between herself and him.

She tried to still her trembling, to speak normally,

but her voice came out as a hoarse whisper. "What

do you want from me?"

He advanced, and she retreated, her legs shaky. He

gestured toward the couch. "Sit, before you fall

down."

Hating that he could see her fear, but knowing his

suggestion was valid, she moved to the couch,

sinking down on the sturdy blue corduroy. She was

grateful he took the large armchair opposite her and

that he now appeared to be shielding the energy. It

wasn't the bombardment it had been.

"Tell me, Dr. Kara Cantrell, about your psychic

abilities."

Another shock jarred through her. "I have none,"

she said adamantly.

Impatience flashed in his eyes. "Stop lying to me.

Many conductors have some sort of ability—

precognitive, empathic, telepathic. And you were

able to sense me from a distance. You can't deny

your abilities."

Kara shook her head, wishing she could block out

the truth of his words. Her thoughts drifted back

through the years, to events she would rather

forget. The earliest memory was from age four,

when she awoke from a particularly vivid dream

and informed her parents,
"Grandpa went to visit

the angels."
Two hours later, they received a phone

call with the news that her beloved Papi had

suffered a sudden heart attack and died.

Then there was the terrible time, when at age eight,

she again awoke from a dream -this time

screaming- and told her mother that she'd 'seen' her

father crushed in his car. They soon learned a drunk

driver had smashed into her father's vehicle, killing

him instantly.

During her senior year of high school, while in her

calculus class, she'd had a sudden vivid image of

her brother Dan being shot in the left leg, his knee

shattered. Dan, who was serving in Desert Storm,

lost his left leg from the knee down that very day.

There were more, many more, incidents over the

years. She'd felt like a freak, been unsettled by

these unexplained occurrences, and rationalized

them away as coincidence. She had taken refuge in

science, which was logical and definable. And she'd

worked hard at suppressing the events, training

herself to awaken at the first hint of an unsettling

dream. Of course, meeting Richard had opened her

eyes to a world that couldn't be explained by logic.

But she refused to acknowledge or enter that world

again.

"I'm a doctor, with scientific training," she said. "I

don't believe in unexplained phenomenon.

Obviously, you have me confused with someone

else."

"Do I? Your son is a Sentinel. Which means at least

one of his parents is a Sentinel. In this case, it

would have to be his father."

"Leave my son out of this." She had no intention of

discussing Alex with this man. Alex was just a

normal six-year-old boy. He attended first grade,