Beyond the Shadows (15 page)

He grunted as a tickling fingertip traced the tattoo that curved around his front and finished at the small of his back.

“Why a dragon?” she asked lightly then continued the massage. He tensed at the question. Her sensitive fingers worked on the area between his shoulder blades, pulling and rubbing until the tension eased.

“It’s in honor of my sister.” He surprised himself with the admission. He hadn’t shared that with anyone. It was too raw—too personal. “When she was murdered, I swore I would put her killer behind bars—slay her dragons. The ink is a reminder that even with the best of intentions, sometimes our best isn’t good enough, and we have to find a way to live with our dragons instead, however much it pains us.”

Her hands paused. “I’m sorry for your loss. She must have been a wonderful person to merit such a beautiful tribute.”

“The best.” He swallowed the hard lump that formed in his throat whenever he thought of her. “Her killer wasn’t hard to find. The bastard was her ex-boyfriend. I just wish I knew sooner that he liked to beat his women. I wish she’d trusted me to take care of it earlier. Maybe then she’d still be alive.”

He heard her quick intake of air before her hands resumed their work. “I’d heard you almost killed a man. Was that him?”

“Yes.”

He expected her censure and so her next words, spoken quietly, came as a shock. “I’m glad. I bet your sister would have been, too. The bastard deserved far worse in my opinion.”

“Thank you,” he said quietly. “I’ll admit it felt good at the time, but it could have compromised the investigation. It was stupid of me, but she was gone. The worst had happened, or so I thought.”

He waited for the familiar anger to burn like acid in his chest, but it never materialized. It still pissed him off, but the soul-ripping pain he’d once felt had left him. He rubbed idly at the spot in wonder. Silence stretched between them, but it was one born of the comfort that comes from baring one’s soul and being accepted, regardless. Nate let his head drop forward and closed his eyes on a deep sigh. Most of the kinks had been worked out, leaving him feeling boneless.

“You have magic hands,” he groaned as she finished with his shoulders and worked down his spine.

“You’re not the first to tell me that.”

“Really?” An emotion akin to jealousy lit a fire through his veins and he sat up straighter. “A boyfriend?”

Kelly laughed and slapped his good shoulder lightly. “Relax, would you? Don’t undo all my hard work. If you must know, it was my mother. I don’t have a boyfriend. There aren’t many men around who like dating Amazons.”

“More fool them,” he muttered. “There’s just more to love.” The aggression that simmered and threatened to boil over cooled down.

Her hands suddenly dropped away from his back and she threw his discarded shirt at him. The easy camaraderie of the moment before disappeared.

“Do I make you nervous, Kelly?”

She paused while rubbing the excess oil into her hands. “Not at all,” she denied, while not quite meeting his eyes. “Why do you say that?” Straight away, she bit her lip as if cursing herself for asking the question.

“Oh, no reason. Certainly it has nothing to do with the way you back away from me anytime I get too close.” He rose from the couch and stalked her, his mouth lifted at her involuntary step backward. “See what I mean. What do you think I might do to you? I could’ve sworn you enjoyed kissing me earlier.”

Kelly stopped and stood her ground, planting her hands on her hips. “It sounds like you’re recovered from over exerting yourself. Maybe now, we can get back to discussing what you saw on the beach.”

As a diversion, she couldn’t have chosen a better topic. Ice ran through his veins, dousing the flames of desire she lit in him so effortlessly.

“We should have followed her home. Found out who she was and kept an eye on her.”

She shook her head, the ponytail flicking from side to side. “You’d spooked her enough as it was. How would you explain yourself to the boss if she caught you watching her? What reason could you possibly give? No. You did all you could. Don’t beat yourself up. Anyway,” she added, “we’re not even sure if that’s how this thing of yours works.”

“I guess we’ll find out soon enough,” he answered grimly. Kelly’s necklace reflected off the ceiling lights and he frowned. “Maybe you should take yours off. Just until we know more about this guy.”

He watched her reach up and automatically stroke the jewelry. She shook her head. “It belonged to my grandmother. It makes me feel closer to her, like your dragon does for you towards your sister. Besides, I’m one of probably thousands of women who wear something similar.”

He rolled his lips inwards and pressed them together hard. She was right. He didn’t like it, but was he going to run around telling every woman who wore a cross to remove it? The fact he gave it more than a passing consideration made him realize how precariously he balanced on the sharp edge of crazy.

“Fine,” he agreed on a heavy exhale. His eyes narrowed on her smile at his capitulation. Annoyed, he turned away from her and wandered into the kitchen. Whether it was silly or not, now the damned thing hanging around her delicate neck made him nervous. It looked so innocent, but there was someone out there targeting those who were far from that state.

“What are you doing now?”

With the fridge door open surveying the contents, he glanced back at her. “I’m going to attempt to make dinner.”

“That’s my job,” she argued and positioned herself next to him, trying to shove him aside. He stood immobile and watched her in amusement. “No fair,” she panted. “You’re getting your strength back. I thought I had a few more days left of being able to boss you around.”

“And you do it so well, too,” he teased and felt the tightness in his chest ease at her unfettered laugh. For the first time since his sister’s death, he realized he had been allowing himself to feel happy. Letting go of the grief and guilt that had tethered him so long gave him a strange sense of weightlessness. “Seriously though Kelly, I need to make a start on handling the normal things again. Your job is to make sure I don’t fall flat on my face. I’m pretty sure I can manage dinner.” His eyes lit on a bottle of cream and smoked chicken. “How does pasta sound?”

“Like heaven,” she replied after giving up and pulled out a barstool.

The words brought into sharp focus the memory of his strange encounter with the afterworld. Nothing could convince him it had been anything else. The vision had been too sharp, too real, to be imagined. And for a man not known for flights of fancy, any other explanation came up short.

“Are you okay?”

He inhaled sharply and lifted his head to her concerned gaze. With a start, he realized he’d been standing at the counter motionless, holding the chicken in his hand. “If the shadow is a portent of death,” he started slowly, testing each word as it came, “why am I not seeing it everywhere, over more shoulders? People die every day.”

Kelly frowned. Doubt flitted in her eyes. “I still have a hard time believing in your vision—” She raised a hand at his grunt of annoyance. “But you know I don’t believe in coincidence, either.” The breath she blew out lifted the hair over her forehead. “What I do believe in, is you.”

His eyes shot to her clear unwavering gaze and emotion clogged his throat. “Thank you.” He busied himself with dissecting the chicken rather than the source of the emotion. It was safer that way.

She nodded then continued. “Maybe your near death experience triggered an ability like ESP. Could be the shadow is like a tsunami alert. It precedes the act, lets you know when the killer is targeting an intended victim, giving you time to do something about it.”

Nate’s hands stilled, and he stared at her in wonder. “I’ve been looking at it like it’s a demon, or curse.” He smiled. “I told you, you were good for me.”

She answered with a strained smile as she rose from the chair. “I’m suddenly feeling in need of some wine. Want some?”

“I’ll have a beer, thanks.”

After setting a pot of water to boil, he accepted the bottle from her and leaned a hip against the counter taking a sip. A terrible thought entered his mind, and he swallowed with great difficulty. “If your theory is correct, I’ve just sentenced that woman from the beach to death.”

“
You
are not responsible for who that maniac targets, Nate,” she said sharply. “You tried to warn her the best that you could, and the rest is up to her.”

He shook his head. “I shouldn’t have acted so crazy. If I’d reasoned it out beforehand instead of jumping the gun, we wouldn’t be having this conversation. But jeez, that
thing
freaked me out.” He shuddered at the memory and wiped his suddenly damp palms on a tea towel. He turned his attention back to his dinner preparations. “Whether you believe me or not, I swear that thing was as real as you and me.”

****

The man pulled into the service station directly behind the van driven by his next victim. The woman got out, filled the tank, and retrieved her son from the back. They walked into the shop together, and he followed at a casual distance. The boy was beautiful, his eyes almost soulful as he gazed around at the candy displayed so temptingly within reach. But not once did he reach for it or plead for some.

His gaze hardened on the back of the woman’s head. He bet she ruled the boy with an iron fist.
Controlling bitch. Just like mother.

Payment made, she turned, her eyes meeting his. She startled, and he hastily pasted a wide smile on his face. “Great kid you’ve got there. My own would be begging and whining for candy, but yours has the manners of an angel. You’re doing a great job.”

At the compliment, the woman’s face lit up and she bent to ruffle the boy’s hair. “Thanks. He is pretty wonderful. See you.”

“You bet,” he replied knowing she had no idea just how prophetic her words actually were. It made his grin all the more genuine as he faced the attendant. Could his day get any better? An afternoon lazing about on the beach followed by an evening indulging in his favorite sport was his idea of perfection. He sighed in satisfaction.

“Will this be all, sir?”

“It will, indeed.” He offered the teenager a wide smile. “Today is a good day. God is great is He not?”

The attendant gave him a funny look. “Uh, yes He is, sir. Here’s your change.”

He scooped up his purchases and climbed back into his car. When the van pulled out, he followed, being careful to keep a car or two between them. As they threaded their way through suburbia, his mind drifted to the evening ahead and his body thrummed with energy. The boy’s presence would make it tricky. He’d have to wait until bedtime and be quick. Or find an effective way to silence her while he went about his work. As options filed through his brain, one stood out above the others.

“Yes,” he grinned, his gaze narrowing on the vehicle as it turned into a side street. “That sounds just about perfect.”

He made a mental note of the number on the letterbox where the vehicle parked and drove off to prepare for the night’s activities.

****

“For a man who doesn’t cook, that was amazing,” Kelly praised, pushing her plate away. She leaned back in her chair and picked up her wine glass, smiling at him over the rim. The clean, fruity aroma of Marlborough’s finest white teased her nostrils. “You’ve got great taste in wine too. What will you spring on me next?”

His eyes darkened dangerously pinning her to her seat and all the air left the room. She swallowed to ease a dry throat. He blinked, breaking the connection and she rose unsteadily to her feet. Collecting his empty plate, she scurried over to the kitchen to clear up.

“You’re so stupid,”
she chided herself under her breath. She hadn’t thought through how it would be to live with Nate 24/7. He wasn’t stupid. He was bound to work out how she felt about him. Had always felt about him. And then what? Where did that leave them as partners? Oh, she could see he desired her, but that’s why she couldn’t let this go any further. If they had sex, that’s all it would be for him—like scratching an itch and she’d be left broken.

Hot water splashed off the plate she scrubbed and soaked her shirt. “Shit!”

“Are you okay?”

She spun around at the voice behind her and her heart leapt into her throat. He leaned against the doorframe with a sardonic grin. Her gaze was drawn to the sexy curve of his mouth before she could stop herself. Her lips felt heated and dry. Drawing her bottom lip into her mouth, she bit it, just enough to distract.

He gestured at the brush in her hand. “You’re attacking the poor plate to within an inch of its life. I think it might be clean by now.” His gaze lowered and caught on the wet, clinging material and his nostrils flared, his eyes hungry. “Ah, you’re...ah...wet.”

She glanced down and gasped. The water had turned the white shirt she’d thrown over her bikini top transparent, and her nipples stood proud and erect. She wore more than she had at the beach, but with the unresolved emotions between them, she’d never felt more naked. Belatedly, she crossed her arms over her chest and sidled past him. “I need to get changed. I’m all wet.”

She raced towards her bedroom, but not before her ears caught his groaned response.

“God, I hope so.”

It was with great relief she reached the privacy of her room. She pushed the door firmly shut and stood before the mirror. The image made her groan with embarrassment.
He’d gotten a real eyeful.
He probably thought she’d done it on purpose hoping he’d continue where he’d left off earlier this morning. The thought made her flush anew. Placing her cool hands to her heated cheeks did nothing to ease her mortification.

She rummaged through her drawer and pulled out the first respectable shirt that came to hand. A quick tug yanked the offending garment over her head. She put on the new shirt and turned this way and that. Her gaze caught on the obvious outline of her nipples through the fabric. With a huff, she jerked it off and again fished through the drawer until she found a padded bra. The bra lifted and rounded her cleavage, but it was better than having those lethal weapons pointing through the material at him.