Eliana (2 page)

“Looking for this?”

A dark-haired man crouched nearby, but other than a thick ponytail, she could make out few of his features in the dim light. He held her cane in one hand—and a gun in the other. Eliana froze.

“Easy, honey. I’m not going to hurt you.” He shifted and hid the gun inside his coat. “What’s your name?”

Either the cold or the sharp drop in adrenaline finally did her in. She was freezing. Her teeth clattered together so badly she couldn’t speak. “That— He—”

“He’s gone. He won’t hurt you again.”

Gone
didn’t seem like the right word. The man had evaporated right in front of her.

A second man joined the first, this one thin, blond, and frowning. “Damn it, Kon, I wish you wouldn’t run ahead. You could have been killed.”

“I’m fine. Make sure the mess is cleaned up. We need to get her to the enclave. She’s in shock.” The first man jerked his head in the direction of the steaming puddle. He switched to Spanish to address Eliana. “Tell me your name, sweetheart.”

Sweetheart. That was one word that galled her to the core. “Call me that again and I’ll whack you like I did—” She shuddered.

“Tell me your name and I’ll have something to call you besides sweetheart.”

He had a point. She also noticed something odd in the way he spoke. The words were Spanish but the accent wasn’t Mexican. “Eliana.”

“Eliana. Pretty name for a pretty girl. My name is Kon. My friend Evan and I are going to get you taken care of, all right?”

“I don’t want your help.” She edged away from him, gritting her teeth to keep them from chattering.

“Maybe not, but you need it unless you’d prefer to sleep on the ground tonight.”

“Don’t you dare take me to a hospital.” She didn’t have money, and if she spent another night in one, she’d go
loco.

“All right. No hospitals. I promise.” He leaned forward and extended a hand.

She grabbed it and twisted it around so his wrist bent at an unnatural angle. His mouth tightened, but he made no effort to break away, even though she was sure it must have hurt.

Frightened, she stared at him, certain fate had cursed her with not one but
two
crazy men—except this one wasn’t unnaturally warm. Neither was he trying to overpower her. He merely sat there, watching. After a while, he said, “I can’t help if you don’t let go.”

The words broke her immobility. She released him.

He rubbed his wrist and edged back far enough that the light from the streetlamp hit his face. The sight of his face, pale with an almost feminine beauty, held her transfixed.

I’m dreaming. Angels don’t exist
. But he was as close to angelic as she’d seen a man get.
I’ve seen him before
. But her mind was too frazzled to recall where.

For a long time, neither of them moved. Kon waited, apparently in no rush to leave. Eliana became increasingly aware of the stabbing in her hip, along with several scrapes and bruises. Her hand burned. She yawned, and her face stung like a bad sunburn.
How the hell did that happen when it’s freezing outside?

“We could hang out here all night, but I’d rather have a warm bed and a cup of hot chocolate, wouldn’t you?” He raised his hands, palms out in surrender. “I know you’re afraid. I know you don’t trust me, and that’s okay. All I mean to do is get you in the car and take you someplace warm. No funny stuff. I promise.”

Right. And then he’d drug her and pay her a visit in the middle of the night. “No one’s ever made me a promise I could believe.”

“I have.” He held out his hand again.

Idiot, willingly setting himself up for another attack, but he spoke with a sincerity she’d heard from few others. By extending his arm, he trusted her not to hurt him. She grabbed him again, meaning to show him she meant business, but her strength failed before she’d managed to do more than a light squeeze. Tremors racked her body both from the cold and dropping adrenaline.

He gripped her instead, firm but not overpowering. “Please believe me.”

Damn it
. If he’d been the first man she’d met that night, she might have taken him at his word. She wanted to. She just…didn’t. “One step out of line and I’m leaving. You have one chance.”

“I’ll take it.” He scooted to her side without letting go. “I’m going to have to move you, and I think it’s going to hurt.”

“That’s nothing new.”

He helped her sit up, then took off his coat and wrapped it around her. It was too large but mercifully warm. “Ready?”

Gritting her teeth, she nodded. Gentle as he was, he couldn’t prevent the bolt of pain which had her using the most colorful swear words she knew.

Instead of taking offense, Kon laughed. He tucked her carefully in the backseat of a large, comfortable sedan and climbed in the opposite side. She huddled against the door, as far away from him as possible, and hoped like hell she wasn’t getting herself into deeper trouble.

Chapter Two

Not long into the drive to the enclave, Eliana passed out. Mindful of her injuries, Kon eased her away from the door so she didn’t hit her head. She wasn’t much shorter than him, but she was thin and undernourished. The burns on her face and neck concerned him; if they weren’t seen to soon, she’d be very ill.

Evan glanced up in the rearview mirror. “How’s she doing?”

“Holding on. Fierce little thing. I don’t think she’ll give up easily.” With a light touch of his Sensitivity, he was already getting dozens of images from her, many of which weren’t pleasant. She was alone yet determined to travel…north? He wondered what promise the north held, but he didn’t want to pry any deeper.

Outside, the snow fell in thick clumps. It was beginning to stick to the streets, and Evan drove carefully, despite the urgency. Ten minutes later they reached the enclave, a tall, plain-looking building which blended with its fellow skyscrapers. Evan drove into the underground parking and paused by the elevator so Kon could unload Eliana into the wheelchair kept at the door for occasions such as this.

Eliana didn’t stir until Kon had her upstairs and settled on a bed in one of the suites the enclave reserved for guests. He’d just gotten the zipper to her jacket undone when she woke, her gaze as pointed as a hawk about to kill. “Where the hell am I?”

“Safe. As I promised, you’re not in a hospital, but I’m going to have a doctor come take a look at you.”

“I don’t need one.” Beneath her insistence was a note of fear.

Any fool looking at her could tell she needed assistance. She was pale, trembling, and covered in burns from incubus ichor. Besides that, her leg had her in considerable agony, though she was trying to hide that fact. “Sweetheart… Eliana…”

“Don’t.” She nudged the air with her fingers. “Go away. I’ll be fine by morning, and then I’ll be gone.”

Losing patience, Kon sat beside her on the bed. He reached for her hand, but she snatched it away as if afraid he was going to cut it off.

“Don’t touch me.”

He grabbed her wrist. “See these burns?”

She gave them the barest glance. “So? I’ve had worse.”

“These aren’t ordinary burns. They’re like being doused with certain chemicals. If left untreated, the corrosive agent can enter your bloodstream and make you very, very sick.”

“I don’t want to see a damn doctor.” She yanked, and he let her go.

He clenched his jaw. He could take care of the burns, any Warden could, but he’d wanted a woman to look after her. “It would really be better if—”

She pointed at the door. “If anyone even resembling a doctor walks through that door, I’m leaving.”

“I’d like to see you try.”

She levered herself into a sitting position and tried to swing her legs over the side of the bed.

Tried.

Color fled from her face. Gritting her teeth, she lifted her bad leg at the knee.

Kon gripped her shoulders. “Enough. Point taken. Lie down, all right? You’re making me hurt just watching you.” And she was; even without consciously using his Sensitivity, sympathetic pain stabbed his hip.
How in the world has she lived with that for so long? And why hasn’t she gotten help?
He was definitely calling the doctor, whether she wanted him to or not.

Breathing hard, she eased back down onto the pillows.

“Can I help you out of those wet clothes, or will you fight me about that too?”

She eyed him suspiciously.

“I’m not like the—” He caught himself before saying
incubus
. No reason to add to her terror. “That man who attacked you. I’m here to help, and you’re not making it easy.”

“Good. Because no one ever made it easy on me. Tell you what. If you’re so intent on taking my clothes off, you can give me five hundred for the privilege.”

Kon smothered a laugh. “I don’t think so.”

“I’ll give you a discount. Two fifty.”

“No.” He wondered why she needed the money so badly.

“I’ll do it, then, if that’s what you want.” She stripped off her jacket and shirt. Her bra was old and worn, hardly big enough to keep her breasts from spilling out.

Kon sighed and took the proffered clothes. They were cheap, scratchy material. He’d have to find her something better. “I’m not going to sleep with you.”

“Too bad. You’ve got the face of an angel. I was hoping you’d make love like one.”

Kon smothered his annoyance. If there was one thing he hated, it was the reminder of his pretty face. The old taunts returned to haunt him.
“Face of an angel. Son of a devil and a demon.”
It never ended. Not even with a beautiful woman he admired.

She tugged at the zipper on her skirt and tried to wriggle out. “Maybe this will convince you. I—oh shit.” She closed her eyes and let out a strangled moan.

“Let me.” Gently, he pulled the skirt over her hips and legs and stifled a gasp of dismay. Thick scars crossed her hip and belly. She’d been wounded. Badly. Without meaning to, he caught images of gunfire. Grief. Pain. No wonder she’d refused a hospital.

“If you’re going look at me without any clothes on, you should at least tell me what your name is short for? Conrad? Con Man? Genghis Khan?”

He covered her with a blanket. Knowing shock caused her to babble didn’t ease his disappointment. He sighed. No matter how hard he’d tried to Americanize his name, it always drew commentary. “Kon with a K. Short for Konstantin. It’s German.” He’d also changed his last name from Jäger to Hunter in an attempt to further distance himself from his past.

“So that’s what your accent is. Your Spanish sounds funny.”

He’d tried to be rid of that too, but certain words refused to be spoken any other way. “My father was German. We lived in Barcelona for a while. That’s where I learned my Spanish.” If she remembered any of this in the morning, he’d be surprised.

“I’ve seen you somewhere. On TV or something.”

“Probably.” For a while, he’d been a model for a line of men’s underwear. That gig led to modeling for advertisements and romance book covers. He’d never truly enjoyed the work, but he’d earned enough money to found a clinic within the enclave for indigent, low-income, and uninsured people to have access to medical care. The clinic offered both traditional and alternative medicine such as the energy work he provided.

One of his demonstrations had been picked up by the public television station and was a favorite during pledge drives. The show featured ways ordinary men and women could learn energy healing, though Kon was careful not to reveal the extent of his abilities. “I’m going to call the doctor right now, all right?”

“I told you. No fucking doctors.”

He loved the intensity with which she ordered him around, but this was one matter he wasn’t going to back down on. To his relief, Doc Jensen was on call and arrived within a few minutes. She took one look at Eliana and hurried over.

Kon went to the far side of the room and searched the ragged cloth wallet which had been in her jacket pocket. There was no cash, no credit cards. The Arizona ID was just that—not a driver’s license. Eliana Reyes, 9/30/1973, and since it was 1992 that made her nineteen. The address was in Nogales. Behind it was a military ID and dog tags for John Tall Elk.
Her father?
It was possible; they had similar eyes and facial features.

The only other item in the wallet was a bent photograph of five children. He picked Eliana out immediately, as she was the eldest, and her appearance was subtly different from the two boys and two girls. Everyone in the picture was smiling, but the haunted looks in their eyes told Kon it was a rare moment of happiness.

Doc Jensen’s voice rose as Eliana fought, swore, and made another futile attempt to leave the bed. Exhaustion finally won out, and she submitted to the doctor’s treatment, though Kon could sense her fury from across the room and without his Sensitivity.

When Eliana was sedated, Doc Jensen joined Kon. “The burns will heal,” she said, “but I’d like an X-ray of that hip for an idea of what we’re dealing with. It’s obvious she was shot and had surgery to repair the damage, but I’d like to see if there’s something more we can do for her. I’ll write her a prescription. She’s too young to be in so much pain.”

“I’ll talk to her when she wakes.” Kon had doubts Eliana would agree to any further treatment. She wore her pain as a badge of honor and likely wouldn’t be rid of it until she was ready.

Doc let herself out. Kon heard murmured voices in the hallway before Evan let himself in. “Doc just gave me the update. How are you after tonight’s excitement?” He draped a hand across Kon’s shoulder.

“Ready for bed.”

“Why don’t you stop by my suite? Have a drink. I’ll give you a massage and you can unwind a bit.”

“I meant my
own
bed.”

“Kon.” Evan cocked his head and gave him a disapproving look. “I just don’t think Dane would be good for you to be around tonight. You need to relax and decompress, not take a beating.”

Kon grabbed Evan’s arms, leaned forward, and kissed him on the cheek. “You worry about me too much, Chief Warden.” Beneath his grip he could sense Evan’s longing welling up. After he’d lost his cambion, the Warden’s Council had forbidden him to take a permanent partner. Unless Evan was called upon to be a surrogate for someone, his nights were spent alone. “Don’t do this. Not tonight.”