Eden's Promise (7 page)

Her heart thudded as they crept down the quiet street, keeping to the shadows. Some of the houses had been vandalized, some had been burned. Her gut twisted as she counted down the numbers, getting closer to the address.

Kelly’s house looked untouched, dark and quiet, as one would expect a house to look at five in the morning, except for the wild vegetation taking over the yard. Would they find her sister’s body inside? It was a question she hadn’t allowed herself to ask until now.
 

Aaron glanced over at her and took her hand, leading her up the cracked sidewalk, up to the stoop. Eden thought he would kick the door down. Instead, he finessed the lock and led the way, gun drawn. She pulled her own, just before the smell hit her, something she’d never smelled before, overpowering, foul, and she knew.

Aaron pivoted, catching her by the shoulders, forcing her to look at him. “You stay here. No matter what you hear in there, you stay here.”

“My sister—”

“I’ll go see. You said yourself that you only have this as a last address. It might not be her.”

But the tears in his eyes told her he thought it was. She didn’t want to see her sister like that, didn’t want to, and because of that cowardice, she gripped the door jamb and nodded.

“Keep watch out here, just in case,” he said, and disappeared into the darkness of the house.

She heard him move through the house, the lower level, then saw him advance toward the stairs, the lines of his body tense. She waited, heard the choked sound from above, saw a brief flash from his flashlight, then heard his steps on the stairs. He moved into the doorway, illuminated now by the watery dawn light creeping through the trees, and shook his head, his face drawn.

“Not her. An older couple, shot in the bedroom. Looks like a murder-suicide because the house hasn’t been looted. And they’ve been there awhile. A long while.”

Eden sagged as fear drained from her and she leaned against the door frame. “She doesn’t live here anymore.”

“Doesn’t look like it. But that’s good. There’s still hope.”

Hope. Except where did they look now?

“Let’s find a place to stay for a few hours, maybe come back and check for clues of where we might look next.”

***

They found a house a few blocks down that didn’t seem to have been disturbed, and entered through the back. Eden braced herself for the scent of death, but it didn’t come. These people had escaped, then, or fled. Still, Aaron made her wait by the back door as he cleared the house. She looked over the backyard, wondering if anyone remained in the neighborhood to watch what they were doing. If not, where had they gone? Maybe Kelly had gone there, too.

Aaron reappeared and motioned for her to follow him into the house, closing the door carefully behind him. He motioned up the stairs and she followed. Only when he turned into the master bedroom, with the giant king-sized bed, did she balk.
 

“What’s the plan here?”

“It’s safer for us to stay together. For one, you won’t startle me into shooting you, and if someone comes in, we’ll be able to stick together.” Again he closed the door behind them. “Don’t worry, I’m not going to ravish you.”

She raised her eyebrows at him. “Ravish?”

He blushed a little. “Whatever. I’m too beat to try anything anyway. I found some bottled water in the kitchen and brought it up in case you want to clean up a little.”

Just for that she could kiss him. She ducked into the adjoining bathroom, found a washcloth and cleaned up with the chilly water from the bottle.

When she emerged, Aaron was already stretched out on the bed, feet crossed at the ankles, hands folded on his stomach, eyes closed. His breath came soft and even, and he might have looked peaceful if not for the gun on the bedside table.

She crossed to the other side of the bed, considered for a moment, and crawled between the softest sheets she’d ever known. Warm now, listening to Aaron’s breathing, tired beyond belief, she was asleep within moments.

***

Aaron woke to the sound of howling dogs. He frowned, oriented himself, only to find Eden had tucked herself under his arm at some point in the night, and her arm was flung across his waist. She smelled good, like expensive soap, and felt even better. The shirt she wore to bed had hitched up around her waist, leaving her legs bare and twined with his.
 

He let himself enjoy the sensation for a moment—too long—before he battled back his reaction, his desire to flip her onto her back and plunge into her soft, sweet body, to kiss every inch of her skin, to feel her come even as she woke up.

That would be a huge mistake, even if they found her sister and were able to go back to the island today. She was responsible for everyone, and he wanted to be responsible for no one. And look, she’d already dragged him onto this mission.

He slipped out of bed and crept down the hall to the stairs, gun at the ready. The dogs he’d heard last night were in the neighborhood, but not in the yard. Did they smell him and Eden? Probably. Were they dangerous? Again, probably. Shit.
 

Time to eat and hit the road. He’d seen some oatmeal and crap in the pantry last night. Maybe he could fix something up for breakfast before they continued their search.

He found a bag of chow mein noodles in the back of the pantry, a jar of olives and a can of coconut milk. His taste buds protested but his stomach demanded attention. He almost—almost—wished for the crushed bag of potato chips Eden had devoured last night. Too many days that had been his only food. He’d only been gone from the island a few hours and he already missed the vegetables and breads his mother had made. All the more reason to end this mission.

Footsteps padded on the stairs and Eden appeared, legs bare beneath the flannel shirt she wore, hair tangled about her shoulders, and his body sprang to attention again. Jesus, did she even know what she was doing to him? He doubted she had too much experience—not too many guys hung around on the island. There was Damien, and he wondered about the nature of their relationship, but couldn’t decipher it. He supposed he could ask, but what would she make of that question? Would she interpret it as interest?

Besides, if Damien was sleeping with her, would he let her travel here with him? Hell, Aaron wasn’t sleeping with her and he would have had trouble letting her come here alone with Damien.

“Breakfast,” he said, spreading his hands before him.

“Oh, olives! I haven’t had olives in a long time, even before.” She grabbed the jar and twisted it open, dipped her fingers inside. She popped one in her mouth and closed her eyes in pleasure. He found himself gripping the edge of the counter. She opened her eyes and smiled at him. “Think they have any gin?”

“Maybe. Drinking before we go out isn’t the best idea, though.”

“Right.” Some of the pleasure disappeared from her face. “Maybe we can save some. I’d die for a martini.”

He scowled as she went through the cabinets. She looked over her shoulder and grinned.
 

“What? Not a martini fan?”

“I’d rather drink rubbing alcohol. But if you find some beer under there, or some scotch...”

“Bingo!” she exclaimed and stepped back to reveal a well-stocked liquor cabinet.
 

As he opened the bag of chow mein noodles, she started pulling out bottles. And bottles. And bottles.

“We can’t carry all those,” he pointed out.
 

“Fine. A bottle of scotch and a bottle of vodka, then.”
 

They choked down the food as the sun went down, then went upstairs to dress. Eden was able to find some jeans in the closet that fit and left her smelly jeans behind.

“I wonder if the people who live here will ever come home,” she mused as they walked out, securing the door behind them. “I mean, are they even still alive? Where did they go?”

“They left with some organization, I’m thinking, so maybe they went to a nearby town or a refugee camp. Maybe we’ll find Kelly in one of those.”

“Do you think they’re still operational?”

“I don’t know. I encountered a couple on the way to the island, but they weren’t too populated. They might be able to point us in the right direction, though.”

They went to the kitchen for one last search of the pantry, for anything they could take with them to help their own supplies last longer. Eden tucked her nose in the collar of her shirt and opened the refrigerator, shone her flashlight inside, but found nothing of use.

Just then she heard the click of claws on the tile. She twisted to see a large dog, mixed breed with a square head and big teeth, snarling at them.
 

The pack had found their way inside.

Chapter Five

Eden grabbed for her holster, but Aaron caught her wrist, dragging her behind him and shoving her toward the door leading to the living room. This damned house had an open floor plan, no doors to close between them and the dogs—because now she could see there were more than one.

“Back door,” he said over his shoulder, his attention not leaving the approaching animals.
 

God, they could spring at any moment, and if they did, Aaron was certain to be bitten. His gun was drawn, so she drew hers, too, as she moved quickly toward the back of the house. Why were there no doors between rooms in this house?
 

Finally they got to the back door to find it jammed, even when she shoved all her weight against it. He edged past her and tried it too.
 

“Garage,” he said, shoving her toward the other side of the house as the dogs—she couldn’t see how many in the dark—approached, growling, setting every hair on edge.
 

She eased toward the garage when she wanted to run, but remembered her father’s lectures that running from a dog was the worst thing. Still, her muscles screamed in protest with the need to put as much distance between herself and danger as she could.
 

Steps led to the garage door and she mounted them. To her relief, the door swung inward. She grabbed the back of Aaron’s shirt and dragged him with her, slamming the door just as the first dog sprang. She felt the vibration of the dog hitting the door as she leaned against it, catching her breath. The growling and slavering on the other side sent ice through her body, but she dared not leave the door. She didn’t know how secure it was.

“Can it lock?” Aaron asked, beside her, and flicked on his flashlight to inspect the handle.
 

Unable to find a lock, he cast the beam about the garage.
 

She gasped and he whistled low.
 

Glass eyes glinted around them, staring out of the half-stuffed taxidermied bodies of bobcats, birds, even a coyote. Torturous looking implements hung neatly on the wall above the creatures.
 

“Think there’s another way out?” she asked.

He grinned. “Kinda creepy, aren’t they? But better company than our friends on the other side of the door.”

That were still trying to get through. They were clawing at the door now, more than one, working as a pack to get through to them. And the door was hollow, so it was only a matter of time.
 

Aaron moved away, beam of light bouncing, and dragged a rolling metal tool box against the door. He kicked at the wheel until it bent, then did the same with the other.
 

“That’ll hold while we move this.” He motioned for her to grab one side of the washing machine. He unplugged it, unhooked the hose and together they walked it over to stand against the tool chest. He stepped back. “It won’t hold them for long,” he muttered.
 

The garage door was electric, naturally, and there were no windows or no other door. He dragged the light beam across the ceiling as the wood of the door cracked.
 

“There,” he said, pointing to a square of wood. “We’re going up.”

The growling was louder as the dogs ripped through the second layer of wood, tearing at it with their snouts and claws. She and Aaron propped the ladder against the opening above, and she scrambled up first, at his insistence, and shoved the square of wood to the side. It was a small storage space, filled with plastic totes, probably Christmas ornaments or something, and roach droppings. Ick. The scent was overpowering, but she scooted away from the door to make room for Aaron, just as the dogs ripped through the door and the first one bounded inside, standing on the tool chest and snarling.
 

“Holy shit,” Aaron breathed. “Too fucking close.”

“Will they go away? When they realize they can’t get us?”

“I don’t know.”

The lead dog spotted them and placed his front feet on the ladder, barking and snarling. Eden wrapped her arms around her legs, drawing them as close to her body as she could.
 

“They can’t climb ladders, can they?”

“If they try, I’ll kick it away. I don’t think they can, though.” Still, he scooted closer to her, away from the opening.