Misery (5 page)

“You might have startled me. I could have fallen.” She spoke low because she didn’t really know what to say. She was frightened down to her toes that were curling in her walking shoes.

“I would not have allowed that.” His voice was low also, but without any inflection, almost a monotone, without feeling.

“Why have you been following me?” She was finding it hard to speak as her chest tightened, restricting the air she needed.

“I have been assigned to protect you.”

Okay, this was not what she expected. She brought up one knee on the ground and turned slightly, so that she was facing him sideways, but could now turn her head to see him better. She pushed her long ponytail behind her shoulder.

“I would think I would need protection from you.”

He looked at her without expression. But he did tilt his head as if to study her carefully more carefully, from top to bottom. That didn’t feel comfortable.

Finally he spoke, one word. “Why?”

Gee, she had a stalker that looked like he could take out a platoon of marines, but he didn’t use a lot of words. Was she really sitting here having a conversation?

“Well, to start with, right now you have me cornered in a really dangerous place. You look like a really scary guy that almost anyone would be frightened of. You look like you lift cars for a hobby and I really don’t know anyone who would hire someone like you to quote protect me.” She said all of this looking at his lips, not those disconcerting eyes.

“Why are you afraid?”

God, he was staring at her breasts. She had a stalker who had her trapped, was twice her size. To make matters worse, now he was interested in the size of her bust, which unfortunately, nature had made generous.

“First try looking somewhere else on my body. Second, I have a natural instinct to survive. I don’t put my hand in a fire, I stay away from rattlesnakes, and I recognize a hand grenade that has had its pin removed.”

He slowly raised his eyes to hers. Wow, that wasn’t quite what she wanted either. Now she knew what the butterfly felt like when it had the pin in its gut. It was on the board with its buddies, but not free. Those eyes told a story that was too dark to question.

She looked around, wondering if someone might come along to distract him long enough to allow her to escape. She didn’t deceive herself into believing that she could get out of this particular situation unless he allowed it. It was almost as if he’d waited for the right situation. Wait
—
of course he did. She had been so stupid. She’d known she was being watched. She just thought that if she got out of the city, she would be away from the stalker.

“How long are you keeping me here? I would like to go back to join my friends. That is, if I believe that you are protecting me, you would let me go, so I could go back to join my friends.”
Let’s play the game
—
nothing to lose when dealing with a nut.

Surprise
—
he stood up, then took a couple of steps back. He didn’t take his eyes off her, but he let her scramble to her feet by herself. She would have to move past him, too close for comfort, but it was worth the try.

She took a deep breath and tried to look brave as she stepped forward. She actually had to brush against him as she passed, but he didn’t touch her. He didn’t move. She waited until she was at the point of the steep trail down then glanced back. He was gone, just like that, a ghost.

* * * *

He had watched her pack her things in the van and leave with the group the day before. It was not her normal routine, so he had followed carefully in his black SUV with the dark tinted windows, keeping just enough distance not to be noticed.

Now, he watched her go down the steep trail, running dangerously on the thin, unmarked path back to the camp. What had taken her an hour to travel to the ridge took her twenty minutes of breathless full speed jumping, clearing obstacles, full tilt on flat areas until she was in the camp. She was stooping over, holding her stomach with a cramp that he knew had to be tightening her muscles.

He knelt down to freeze in one position. His training had taught him to sit, stand, stoop, or kneel for hours, unmoving, so the enemy did not know he was present. In the bushes outside the camp zone he knelt, watching, waiting, not moving, and breathed evenly. He had kept up with her speed, but his training was such that her fast movements did not take anything out of him. He could run miles full tilt, not drawing deep breaths, so the enemy would not hear him.

But he had drawn a deep breath when she had brushed up against him on the ridge. Now as he waited in the shadows of the bushes, his dark clothes letting him blend in, he let his memory replay this scent. It was something so different from anything he could relate to in his long life. He was puzzled. He could make no connections to that tantalizing sweet scent.

He did not let his attention waiver from her or everything around them. He knew what animals were in the brush and trees. He knew when the people in the camp moved. He knew when they approached her. He growled silently when one of the males approached her to put his arms around her. He became aware that he was beginning to think of the scent as his. What was this? As a warrior, you traveled light, you did not own things, you did not have mates, sex was quick, over and there was no thought of the female who was used. How could he think of the scent as his?

He thought of her actions. She was brave. He knew that she was frightened as she sat on the cliff. He gathered the emotion. But still, she had control. She pushed it aside. She used anger as a tool and he tasted that emotion. His emotions had been burnt away too long ago to remember, but he could taste her emotions. He sat in the cool shadows, tasting them again and again, along with the smell.

* * * *

Tony put his arm around Mis. Tony helped her over to one of the camp chairs. “Are you okay? What happened?”

“Tony, my stalker is here. I met him on the trail. He even talked to me. Oh God, what am I going to do?”

Tony looked at her as she was folded over, holding her stomach with both arms. “What did the police say?”

She looked up at him. “They said he doesn’t exist
—
well not exactly those words, too polite. I had the impression that they thought I was making it all up, just to get attention or something. They said that a guy like I described would be noticed. They said no one had seen him except me. They think I am a nut.”

She felt her stomach cramp warning that she was going to lose it. She jumped up, heading for the side of the camp. She started to fight it and felt a cold sweat break out. But she was so mad now that she decided she was going to hold it all together. She slowly stood up, looked up at the blue sky through the trees and drew in air through her nose and let it out through her mouth and the cramps eased up.

“Mis, if he is here, I think we need to get you home.”

She looked at her friend. His wife Carla was coming out of the tent to approach them. “Is something wrong?” She had real concern showing on her face.

“Mis is sick. I’m going to run her home, I will be back before dark.”

Mis realized what was being said. “No, I don’t want to put anyone out.”

“Nonsense, Tony can take the van. We are going for a special tour this afternoon and we will have supper ready by the time he gets back. He will make good time without the load on top. Now go, get your things together, and don’t worry about the little tent, just take care of yourself.”

So with very little fuss, she let Tony take her home. It was a quiet ride, for which she was thankful. At the curb in front of her place she got out and before closing the door she looked in at Tony.

“Thank you for believing me.”

Tony looked over and smiled. “That doesn’t require a thanks
—
you don’t lie, and you’re not a fruitcake. My worry is how to help you. Stay inside, lock up tight. Let’s talk about this at work on Monday. I need to get back now.”

She smiled in relief, closed the door and waved as the van rolled away. She took her backpack and went up the steps, then turned around for one last look as she opened her door.

He stepped out of the alley so that she could see him. She knew he did it on purpose. It was just a second, then he stepped back in the shadow of the building. She wasn’t certain if he was still there, but she would place money on it that he remained at that corner.

Shit, what to do now? Go upstairs and think
. So she didn’t sleep that weekend or very well on Monday night. She had restless sleep on Tuesday night. Again no sleep on Wednesday. By Friday, Tony told her she couldn’t go out into the field with him. Her mind was too scrambled to hold or read a meter.

She went home early and went to her room. She got into loose sweats and pulled her hair back with a clip. Her hair was so long that it almost reached her waist, so she had to twist it several times. She used a large long clip to hold it up on the back of her head. She put on big fluffy athletic socks. She finally decided she was ready. She went out of her apartment, leaving her front door open. She went down the first level of inside stairs. Still with the same determined steps she went out the front door.

She hesitated only a moment. Shoulders back, shoeless, in the big white socks, she walked with determination across the street to the corner of the alley. As she got closer she saw him. He was dressed in a black tee and black jeans tucked into the black boots. He had a lightweight black jacket on, open. He was leaning with one shoulder against the brick of the building, just a few steps into the alley, in deep shadows.

She continued to walk directly up to him, stopping when she was about two feet in front of him. He didn’t move, and he showed no emotion. She guessed that he was the type that would not show emotion if the building beside him collapsed inward.

“I want you to come back with me to my apartment. I need you to answer some questions.” This was all that her nerve would let her say to him. She turned around, not looking to see if he followed her, and headed back in, up the steps. She entered her apartment, not closing the door. Of course when she turned, he was there, just inside the door. The ghost had moved.

This was probably the dumbest thing she had ever done in her entire life. But if the police couldn’t get information, she would. She had to find out what was going on or she would never get any sleep.

He looked around with no expression. He reached behind him and shut the door. He looked at her and she thought he probably saw the panic on her face.

“For your privacy. No one will hurt you.”

Good, he was the first to speak. But suddenly the room seemed very small. Geez, he was big. She looked around to decide which of her chairs would hold his size and weight. She would prefer him to sit instead of hovering over her, taking all the air out of the room.

She finally pointed at her couch. “Please sit there. I will sit here so that we can talk.”

She watched him as without moving his body, his head and eyes moved over the entire room. He was looking at the door to the bedroom. She had the feeling that in his once over he probably could itemize every piece of furniture, every book, along with all the knick-knacks that was in the room
—
also, where the windows and any means of escape or entry might be.

She decided to sit in the comfy chair. She pulled her knees up with her feet under her. He looked back at her but he slowly moved to the couch and sat down, stretching his long legs out in front.

“You have the heart of a warrior.”

Well, she wasn’t sure what that meant, but she had a feeling that he had just given her a compliment of some sort. She shifted in the chair but he didn’t move.
Well, you dumb idiot, you got the lion in your room, what do you do with him now? Better try to tame him before it’s his feeding time.

“So you are watching me because someone told you to. Who exactly told you to watch me?”
Ask the question so that he has to give a good correct answer.

He had turned his head to look at her collection of letter openers on the coffee table. He looked up at her. “Council Lord Alexander Bider.”

She took his information seriously, so she thought about it for a long time. She reached over, pulled open a drawer in the end table by her chair, and took out a tablet and pencil. She wrote the name down.

“I have never heard of the name. It sounds Swedish. Why would he feel that I am in danger and need protection?”

Again his gaze was on the openers. He pulled it away to look up at her. “Because of your blood. It’s serum.”

That brought her to a complete stop. That left her with nothing to say, nothing to even think about. Blood? Serum? What on earth was he talking about? She was one of the lucky ones. She had never seen the inside of a hospital. Her dental checkups made her dentist brag to others. She had never donated blood at any blood bank.

“How does he know my blood is special?”

He pointed at the letter openers. “Do I have your permission to touch these?”

“If you answer my question, feel free to examine my collection.”

He stopped as he had leaned forward with his hand above the collection. “Your smell.” He didn’t look at her but waved his hand over the sharp instruments. He reached down to choose one that was gold, not as pretty as the others. She had traded a good gold bracelet for it. She had others with scrollwork. Some had covers, some had semi-precious stones, but this one had drawn her immediately. She had gone back to the pawnshop three times before she made up her mind to try to purchase it. It took two more times to negotiate a price.