Heaven and Hell (Beautiful Beings, #2) (10 page)

Moore pulled me into his arms, into the secure and safe haven of his embrace.  I wanted to melt into him and forget the world.

“The moment I left you and Brax, back at his dorm, I promised myself that I’d forget you, forget the feelings I have for you.  I tried, really, and for a whole day I managed to hold back… hold back from calling you, from rushing to your house. It took every ounce of will to keep me from meeting you at the airport and I knew that if I went to school, I’d succumb the moment I saw you.”

“And I ruined everything by calling you,” I teased.

Shaking his head, he cupped my cheeks and gazed lovingly at me.  “The truth?  I already had my car keys in my hand when you called.”

“Liar.  You said you were busy.”

“Humph… the only thing that kept me busy was trying to forget about you.  It was torture being without you and I don’t want to live that again.”

“What about Brax?”

“I’ll have to accept that he’s a part of your life.  I’m not saying I’ll like it, or that it’ll be easy.  It hurts like hell seeing you guys together, but I want to be close to you again.  I want to share moments with you like we did in England – loving you and reveling in every moment with you.  Not only will I watch over Shayne and help you find every last beautiful being in San Francisco, but I’ll do my best to be friends…” He choked and cleared his throat.  “Okay, let’s just say I’ll do my best to be civil to Brax.”

A rich and warm rumble of laughter shook me and I knew my smile told him just how pleased I was to hear him say that.  I reached up to kiss him.  Neither chaste nor heated, the kiss was simply filled with the affection and appreciation I felt for him.

To my surprise, he responded in kind, offering his pure affection without the usual heat of passion.  When I released him from my kiss, his love for me was clear in his tender gaze.  Without a word I folded my hand into his and led him further down the pier.

Gulls squeaked and squawked their way across the sky, fishing under the sun’s final rays.  Evening joggers passed us by while the occasional fisherman settled into place and prepared for a catch.

For a long stretch, only the gulls and rolling waves broke the silence that engulfed us.  I was lost in my own thoughts and I knew Moore struggled with his own.

When we reached the end of the pier, I finally spoke.  “Do you remember the first time you drained a soul?”

His eyes widened.  Clearly he’d not anticipated the topic to come up.  “They say you never forget your first, and that is unfortunately true.”

“What was it like?”

“Horrible, that’s really the only way to put it.  I mean, I remember little about the act itself… as if some demonic instinct just kicked in and took over.  I don’t even remember trying to fight it.  It completely consumed me.”

“Did you feel the urge beforehand?”

He gazed at the sky and pondered a long moment.  “I remember feeling different, questioning certain odd urges I suddenly had.”

“Like what?”

He snorted.  “Stupid stuff, like pushing someone off his bike, or ripping flowers from a garden; like throwing rocks through the stained glass depiction of Jesus at church.  I was conscious of all these new and strange thoughts, yet still didn’t make a connection with my parents’ condition.”

“And how did the urge to drain a soul materialize?”

Pursing his lips, he shrugged.  “It was just there.  I was walking a new kid to the auditorium… showing him around.  Once there, we were alone.  It was dark and quiet, and he started to make these eerie sounds… calling out into the dark then chanting strange words, just for the hell of it.  It all echoed in the auditorium and he thought it was really funny.  It gave me the chills and triggered something inside me; a hunger or need; something that hadn’t been there before.  I turned to him and suddenly saw something I wanted in him.  Don’t ask me what, I really don’t know, just something.  And the need to have that something intensified until I became obsessed with having it.”

“His soul?”

He glanced at me and quickly looked away.  “Probably.”

“What d’you do?”

“From that point, I don’t really know.  All I remember is leaving the auditorium.  I was cool and calm one minute, strutting through the halls without a care in the world.  Then the repulsion and nausea took over.  I knew something awful had just happened, but I think I deliberately blocked it out.

“Someone found him twenty minutes later.  The cops were called and before long everyone in school was talking about it.”  His eyes darkened and it was easy to see he’d gone to a dark and sad place.

“A part of me shrugged it off.  It was no big deal… some new kid found dead in the auditorium… what do I care?  But another part of me knew… knew I was a part of it.  And the worst…”

He fell silent.

Eager to find out more, I wanted to press him, but the torment in his eyes told me just how painful it was to relive.

“The worst was the little part in me… the devil in me… that was actually proud.”  He turned to me.  “You can’t imagine what it is to live with so many conflicting emotions, to loathe yourself with such passion.  It took me weeks just to accept what had happened; what I’d done.”

Taking a deep breath, he composed himself and forced a smile.  “So I would imagine the beautiful beings at St. James are going through the very same hell; sensing a difference, but unable to identify the source or reason; having evil thoughts without any understanding of them.”

“They don’t know what’s coming and have no way to stop it,” I added.

“They’re completely unaware of what’s brewing inside them and there’s no way we can point them out.  For now they're walking around just like ordinary people.”

“Jekyll and Hyde, multiplied.”

“Pretty much.”

We fell silent as a group of older women jogged by, touched the end rail of the pier and turned back.  Once gone, I leaned into Moore, feeling closer to him than ever before.  His embrace was gentle and pensive.

“All the more reason to have Brax back in town.”

Moore said nothing, but his arms tensed a fraction of a second before relaxing again.

Pulling back to look at him, guilt filled my belly for the added pain I’d brought him.  “I went to England to find him and bring him back so he could settle things with his estate, but I need him here, in San Francisco, for another reason.”

He cocked his brow, but seemed reluctant to hear what I had to say.

“I need his help to get Asher out of jail.  Since his uncle’s death he’s inherited a lot of money, money that translates to power and that power will help free Asher.”

An amused grin came to Moore’s lips as he cocked his brow.  “You know, I don’t have too shabby a bank account either.  I can help you get Asher out.”

“I know you could help with the financial aspect, but you’ve already done so much… bringing me to England and all….  But Brax is the only family Dr. Kingsley had here.  He may be the only one who can convince the judge to release Asher, maybe even drop the charges.”

After a long and slightly annoyed intake of breath, Moore let the air seep out of his flaring nostrils.  “Okay, fine.  Brax wins again.”

I chuckled, hoping to lighten the mood.

“You know I want to be there to help you, right?”

“I know, and I appreciate it… really.” I kissed him, platonic, almost brotherly at first.  I was truly grateful for everything he’d done, but the kiss quickly took on a life of its own.  It heated up with lightning speed, enveloped me and erased everything else from my mind.  As his hands spread over my back and worked their way down, I leaned into him, ready to get closer than we’d ever been.

The sensations that’d left me reeling intensified when his hand slipped under my sweater and traveled up my back.  The heat of his skin against mine, the softness of his touch and the possessive pull of his lips all left me ready to beg for more.   Just as I prepared to murmur that plea into his ears, he pulled back.

“Believe me,” he whispered. 

Bleary eyed, I looked at him, my lips already pursed for another kiss.

“I want this more than you know,” he went on, “but, somewhere deep inside me… somewhere in there, with all the demonic tendencies and urges, I have the utmost respect for you.  It’s not really my nature to be chaste and pure, but with you… I don’t want you to feel pressured or manipulated.  I want to wait until you're fully ready.”

“I am, Moore,” I growled as my body ached for his embrace.

A sardonic grin spread across his face, rendering him impossibly alluring, but it was accompanied by a mature shake of his head.  “With everything that’s going on, I don’t think you are… and I don’t want you to regret our moment together.  I don’t want you to resent me for taking advantage of you.”

The molten heat that’d consumed me cooled somewhat, though I knew it wouldn’t take much to heat it up again.  I knew he was right.  My emotions were all over the place.  “I really appreciate your…” I cleared my throat.  “Control.  I do want you, I want you to know that, but you're right; too much is going on now.  I need your help settling at least one of those things.”

He looked away. Whatever heat, passion or romance that’d remained completely dissipated. “Right, Brax again.  Will we ever stop talking about good old golden boy.”

“Actually, it was Asher I wanted to talk about.”

Chapter 10

F
lanked by Brax and Moore, I headed to the imposing doors of the court house.

“How much did you say his bail would be set at?” Moore asked.

“Rumor has it at six point five million,” I said. “If they even allow bail at all.”

He let out a low whistle.

“I know. That’s why we have to convince him to lower it.”

Once inside our steps echoed up to the high ceiling, reverberating with the importance of every step.

The guys at my side had more than enough money to post bail for Asher, but would the judge refuse him bail at all.  Crossing my fingers as we arrived at the designated courtroom, I hoped Brax’s influence would do the trick.

With quiet reverence we took a seat behind Asher and his court appointed lawyer.

“Due to the serious nature of the crime, Your Honor, we ask that bail be refused and the defendant held until trial.”

“Ms. McDaniel,” the judge said as he nodded to Asher’s lawyer.

“My client has always been an upstanding citizen and has no prior record, Your Honor.  While the severity of the crime is great, the evidence in this case is flimsy at best.  In addition, my client poses no flight risk, and we believe he should be released on his own recognizance.”

“No flight risk?” the prosecutor argued.  “This young man brutally murdered one of San Francisco’s most highly regarded citizens.”

“Allegedly,” Ms. McDaniel threw in.

“Your Honor,” the prosecutor went on.  “Asher Fritzpatrick has no known family in the San Francisco area, in all of California for that matter and he’s forged a very small number of thin friendships in the small time he’s lived in the community.  With a murder charge hanging over his head, he has absolutely no reason to remain in the area.”

The judge flipped through the court papers on his desk then glanced at Asher with a frown on his brow.  “Bail will be set at five point five million.”

Ms. McDaniel jumped to her feet.  “Your Honor, that is an outrageous amount.  There is no way my client can come up with that kind of money.”

I nudged Brax with my elbow.

“Sorry, Lux,” he whispered.  “I can’t come up with that amount of money so fast.  I received just a little over two million and the rest is to come later.”

Moore rose.  “Your Honor, if I may.”

The judge nodded.

“I’ve known the defendant for only a few months, but in that time I’ve come to know him as a respectable and hard-working young man.  While he may not have a great number of friends in the area, I do know that he’s very close to Lux Collins.” He gestured towards me.  “And would not want to run.”

Turning to me, the judge waved me to stand.  “What is your relation to the defendant?”

“I’m a close friend, Your Honor.  In the short time I’ve known him he’s been nothing but kind and gentle.  I was also there the night of the murder and know Asher had nothing to do with it.”

“We have a statement from…” He perused the court papers.  “Shayne Hatchett.  She walked into the room to see the defendant’s hands around the victim’s neck.”

“Shayne is my sister, Your Honor,” Moore said, “and she may have acted on the stress of the evening when she made that statement.”

“If that’s true, she’s had plenty of time to amend her statement since then.”

“I fear she may also have felt slighted by the accused. She’d made romantic advances which he’d rebuffed.”

“Women,” the judge muttered.

Brax got to his feet.  “Your Honor, I was also there the night of the murder.”

“And you are…?”