Water Bound (45 page)

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Authors: Christine Feehan

BOOK: Water Bound
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“I won’t need a gun.” Lev’s quiet voice spoke volumes.
Blythe shivered, but she looked straight at Lev. “I believe in second chances. We all need them. If this is your chance, then you have to start it right.”
Rikki rocked for a few more minutes, making a strangled sound of distress that broke Lev’s heart. Blythe sat back and waited and he took his cue from her. Rikki had to find her own way. She’d been doing it for many years, and whatever physical response it took to help her get there, he was willing to let her work through it. She wouldn’t want interference. She was independent and that state of mind was hard-won. She deserved whatever time it took for her to work it all out.
Rikki flapped her hands in front of her face and blew on her fingers as if the tips were burned. “You can call him, Blythe. But he knows about the other fires.”
“Maybe he does, Rikki,” Blythe conceded gently, “but that doesn’t mean he’s not willing to give you the benefit of the doubt; otherwise, don’t you think he would have come to me and warned me?”
Rikki rocked for a few more moments, but her hands settled while she frowned, thinking it over. Lev found himself breathing normally again at the sight of that little frown. Her brain was functioning again, driving out the chaos. Rikki was very fragile, and he would always have to be alert to the fact that their home would need absolute routine and balance. He had been prudent, although for a moment or two, the urge to pick up Blythe and chuck her right out the door had been very strong.
Rikki chewed on her lower lip until Lev was afraid she’d draw blood. “Maybe you’re right. He stopped me the other day and he was nice. He could have been mean and he didn’t give me a ticket.”
“Then let’s call him and ask him to go out and take a look at where this man has been watching the house and the damage he’s done tonight,” Blythe encouraged. “If you want, I can talk to him. I can tell him I was with you when the fire started.”
“You know the cop is going to want to talk to Rikki,” Lev said. His tone was level, but he meant it as a reprimand. Blythe meant well, but he objected to misleading Rikki. The cop was going to want to talk to all of them if he was any kind of a lawman.
“Perhaps.” Blythe shrugged. “But even if he does, Rikki knows him. And she knows me. I’m not about to let Jonas intimidate her, which I’m certain he never would.” She leaned over and took Rikki’s hands, stilling her fidgeting fingers. “Baby, listen to me. You know Levi better than anyone else. What do you think he would do to protect you?”
“Don’t.” Lev’s tone turned low and deadly. “Don’t put her in the position of thinking she has to protect me.”
“She does,” Blythe said quietly, “from yourself.”
Rikki’s eyelashes fluttered twice before she looked up into Lev’s eyes. He felt the impact of those dark velvet depths in the pit of his stomach. She was definitely back and thinking. Blythe had found the right incentive to force Rikki back from the edge of meltdown.
Laskovaya moya,
you are
not to worry
about me. I
can
take care of myself. It’s what I do. And this man, this fire starter, will not be an issue soon. I’m tracking him now.
Lev.
She whispered his name in his mind. Intimate. Tender. A reprimand. “Blythe is right. We need to do this the right way. We’ll call Jonas and give him a chance.”
He sat back on his heels. “You know there is danger in that as well.”
“Only if you try messing with his head. He’s got his own gifts,” Rikki said. “I feel his energy every time I’m near him.”
“Good energy or bad?” Blythe prompted.
Lev straightened, turning cold blue eyes on Blythe. “You can stop any time.”
“Levi, this is important. That man not only tried to trap us inside the house, he had a gun. If he wasn’t so determined to kill her with fire, he could lie in wait for her. What defense does she have against that?”
“Me.” His voice was implacable. Certain. Confident. “No one is going to harm her.”
“Then use the law. Let me call Jonas.”
Unexpectedly, it was Rikki who changed everything.
If you’re really going to be Levi Hammond and not Lev, the shadow man, we have to jump with bothfeet. Let’s do it. Let’s call him. If it doesn’t go well, then we’ll explore option two.
Lev sighed, turned away from the two women and paced across the floor. This house—the farm—was his refuge, a safe haven from outsiders. Every moment away from it increased the danger to him. Every person who saw him was a threat. He hadn’t had time to plant enough seeds, that shadowy memory that would grow with each sighting. He had wanted to go into Sea Haven in the early morning hours and see Inez, the woman who would ultimately convince everyone that Levi Hammond had been in and out of Sea Haven and her store for years. He would have the reputation for disappearing, chasing after dreams, but they would all eventually swear they knew him.
A sheriff. One with gifts of his own. He rubbed his beard, that soft hair he now kept neat and trimmed, and that altered his appearance and covered old scars. He would have to choose every word carefully, keep to the shadows, allow the women to do the talking, but it could be done. He’d been in worse, tighter situations.
“Levi?” Rikki prompted.
He nodded, his stomach rolling. He had too much to lose. He’d never had anything to lose before. He had a strong urge to grab Rikki, throw her in the truck and get the hell out. His future, his life, was there in her eyes. It wasn’t about the farm, or the house—the perfect hideaway. It was all about a woman.
He locked his gaze with Rikki’s, looking her directly in the eyes, trying to tell her the enormity of this one decision—what it could cost them. She took a breath, the darkness of her gaze gleaming with intelligence, with understanding.
“Call him, then,” Lev said, and abruptly turned away, striding through the house to the back porch.
He had never relied on another human being for anything, until Rikki had come along. Survival instincts were screaming at him, clawing deep, his training protesting the decision. It went against who and what he was, the core of him, yet if he wanted this life, he would have to concede certain things. He’d have to learn, like others, to live within the law—or as close to that as he could possibly get.
He heard Rikki’s bare feet padding out of the house, coming up behind him. She wrapped both arms around his waist and laid her head against his back. Leaned into him. He stared into the night, inhaling the scent of smoke and rain. The scent of Rikki. He put both his hands over hers.
“This is risky, sweetheart. You know that, don’t you?”
There was a small silence. Frogs called to one another, happy for the rain. A cicada sang its song. Rikki turned her head enough to press a kiss into the small of his back before resting her cheek against his spine. “We can do this.”
He smiled without turning his head. With that simple declaration, she had tied them together, made them one.
When I marry you, I can’t use my given name. There was
regret in his voice—in his heart. I want you to marry the real man, not the one I made up.
She held him to her without hesitation. There was no shrinking away from him, not with her body or her mind.
I will always have the real man, whatever name he chooses for us to live by. You’re real, Lev, not a shadow someone created.
His smile widened. At last he understood the mysteries. Standing there on the porch with darkness surrounding them, listening to the chorus of the frogs, he knew what was inside all those houses across the world. He’d stood outside of them often, listening to the murmur of voices, the sound of children’s laughter, and wondered what they were feeling, why they chose one another, why they would risk everything.
I was born Lev Prakenskii. Not everything about me is a lie, Rikki. I will never let you down. What I feel for you is real. It’s all encompassing, and it’s lasting. The things your sister said to you in there, they were things taught to me, survival techniques vital to a man cut off from all aid and hiding. I am not doing that with you. I can give you my real name, one we will never be able to use, but I want you to know it.
She simply continued to press her body against his, allowing the night to enfold them. The sudden burst of rain she’d drawn from the clouds had become little more than mist without the pull of her energy. It shrouded the trees in a veil of smoky white, closing them off from the rest of the world. He enjoyed the silence, the sound of the frogs playing in the puddles after the heavy rain.
Lev turned slightly and wrapped his arm around Rikki, bringing her from behind him, to his side, under his shoulder where he could keep her warm in the gathering mist.
Blythe cleared her throat. “I’ve heated dinner. Come eat, you two.”
Lev had been aware of her moving about the kitchen and it was impossible to ignore the smell of food. No matter that his world might come crumbling down in the next few hours, his body needed fuel. He turned his back on the night and, keeping Rikki beside him, went back into the house.
He looked around the spacious kitchen. This was their home. Blythe had set the table with the dishware Rikki loved so much. He calmly picked up all three plates and restored them to the china hutch. “Rikki has a fondness for that set of dishes,” he explained as he substituted paper plates. “We’re going to find another set that doesn’t matter if we chip or break it.”
Blythe took in his matter-of-fact words with a small shake of her head. “I see” was all she said.
Lev pulled out Rikki’s chair and she seated herself, looking regal in her sweats.
“You’re good for her,” Blythe said, watching Rikki pick up a fork, instead of protesting that all three of them were sitting down to a meal together in her kitchen.
“She’s good for me,” Lev corrected, and sank into the chair beside Rikki.
“She’s right here, listening to the conversation, and contrary to what appears to be the popular belief tonight, she’s got great hearing.” Rikki took her fork and began to move the green beans around on her plate.
Lev burst out laughing. “She’s also a comedian,” he pointed out. “And she thinks we’re not going to notice that she isn’t actually eating.”
“I’m studying these things. They look a little like great big green caterpillars.” She wrinkled her nose as she stared down at the offending vegetables.
Blythe laughed. “Green beans are good for you.”
Rikki rolled her eyes. “You’re obsessed with all things green, Blythe.” She appealed to Lev. “Don’t you think they look a little fuzzy?” She pushed the beans around a little more on her plate, made a happy face out of them and then changed it to a frowning face.
Lev felt an unexpected jolt of happiness in the region of his heart. He couldn’t help himself, he leaned over and brushed the pad of his thumb across her lips. Her little frown matched the one on her plate. “Try the potato, sweetheart. You’ll like that.”
She made a face and touched the stuffed potato tentatively with her fork, as if it might explode on her. “It’s yellow and white.”
“Good colors,” he commented. “Not sea colors, but cheese colors. I suppose next time you might consider injecting blue dye into the cheese, Blythe.”
Blythe nodded. “I will. I hadn’t thought of that.”
“Very funny, you two. Now who’re the comedians?”
Lev pulled her plate over to him and cut the cheese-stuffed potato into small bites. “There’s nothing green in this. Just cheese and potatoes.”
Rikki inspected the contents carefully before taking a small portion onto her fork.
“I wouldn’t poison you,” Blythe assured.
“You might try to poison Levi,” Rikki pointed out, “and I might have accidently gotten the potato with arsenic in it.”
“You do have a point,” Blythe agreed cheerfully.
Lev found himself laughing, comfortable now with Blythe. They’d come to an understanding. Maybe she could see—or feel—that what he felt for Rikki was genuine. He found himself including Blythe in the very small circle of people he was allowing to enter into his life. She was a good person, with good motives. And he loved how she loved Rikki.
“It would have served you right had I brought home that enormous and very ugly fish for dinner,” Lev said.
Rikki put a small bite of the potato in her mouth and chewed, swallowed and flashed a quick, teasing grin at him. “That thing was never going to make it into this kitchen.” She took another forkful of potatoes. “These aren’t half bad, Blythe.”
Blythe pressed a hand to her heart. “Such praise.”
“The highest,” Rikki admitted, chewing another mouthful. “I think I like this.”
“I’ll definitely need the recipe,” Lev said. “I’m collecting as many as possible. I’ve gotten her to eat only two of the dishes all of you sent over. Mostly it’s peanut butter.”
“Hey!” Rikki protested, shooting a quick, almost guilty look at Blythe. “I eat that broccoli every single night.”
Lev nodded, affirming it was true. “She dips it raw into peanut butter.”

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