STEP (The Senses) (6 page)

Damn, he hadn’t considered her taking his razor and slitting her wrists. Would she do it? Could she? She’d asked him to kill her and yet seeing her sitting on the tile floor so childlike, and alone, he knew that a part of her was already dead.

He refrained from reaching out his hand as her husband had done that day on the roof
, and instead put his hands on her upper arms and urged her to stand. She had no choice, unless she wanted to let go of the towel, and he had a feeling that would be the last thing she’d do.

Once she was on her feet, he turned off the taps and reached for a fresh towel, wrapping it around her shoulders.

“Get dressed.” He grabbed another towel from under the sink and put it on her head like a scarf. He caught a whiff of her natural scent and inhaled, breathing in the sweet captivating smell.

He rid himself of the thought of her by getting mad. “You’re too freakin’ skinny,” he said. Grabbing his own towel from the hook on the wall, he walked out of the bathroom.

****

Rayne thought she was numb to emotions. Ha, instead they were tearing through her veins like missiles. Quickly throwing on her clothes, she ignored the scratches the stone left on her pale skin and pushed her hair back with her fingertips before walking out of the bathroom.

Kilter was pacing back and forth, his hair standing on end as if he had swept his fingers through it a zillion times.

He stopped. “Are you ill? Dying? Some disease? Or did he just not feed you?”

She shrugged. Dying? Did it matter anymore? She was so numb to the idea of living.

“Can’t you just answer me? Christ!” Kilter’s voice rose with frustration.

Rayne turned away. Panic crept up on her like a stalker, slow and deliberate, knowing exactly where to hit first—heart, breath, then limbs losing feeling . . . Kilter’s hands touched her shoulders.

“Don’t touch me
.” Rayne tried to knock his hands off her shoulders and failed.

“I swear
, woman, when will you listen? I said I’d never hurt you,” he said.

Her chest felt as if a thousand-pound dumbbell was sitting on it, making her breath
ing come in short gasps which led to familiar waves of dizziness. She hated these attacks; it was debilitating, embarrassing and terrifying all at the same time.

His calloused fingers gripping her shoulders softened, then he let her go, but he didn’t step back.

“I’m not ill,” Rayne answered.

“Why are you so thin?”

Would he stop saying that? “I have trouble eating sometimes.” Okay, all the time, but he didn’t need to know that.

“Why?”

The smell of wild roses permeated the room, and Kilter tensed. Rayne looked around for whatever had shut him up when she noticed a mist near the door. She stared in awe, her mouth dropping open as the swirling blue mist slowly solidified and in its place a woman appeared.

Kilter stiffen
ed when he met the woman’s eyes before giving her a curt nod. Someone had control over these guys and Rayne was surprised to see it was a beautiful blonde woman who had the skin of an angel and a seductive body that screamed I work out daily.

Her walk was like a whisper, feet gliding across the floor as she approached them.
Rayne had learned at the compound that there were many different kinds living among them, yet this woman was unique in that she appeared out of nowhere.

“Genevieve,” Kilter acknowledged.

Her smile was a breath of fresh air as her eyes perused over the two of them. “Rayne, is it?”

Rayne nodded.

“Welcome. I am Genevieve.” She cast a quick glance at Kilter and then continued to speak to Rayne. “You have been through much. I apologize for that, and I wish to help in any way I can. Perhaps we may speak in private?”

“No
.” Kilter placed his arm around her waist, his fingers gently squeezing her side. “Why are you here, Genevieve?”

The tension went from ten to a thousand in a mill
isecond.

“The Wraiths sense this woman is important. Tor requested I see for myself.” Genevieve’s smile never faded, but her voice deepened and she punctuated every syllable with clarity. “I will forgive your insolence once, due to your unusual state of mind, however, if it happens again I will retaliate. Our prison in the realm is rather . . . displeasing. As is being sent to Rest.”

What was that? Like sent to bed without dinner? Was she serious? It had been a long time since she felt laughter build inside, and suddenly she wanted to giggle. The only reason she held back was Kilter’s scowl intensifying at the woman’s words and the pressure around her waist tightening.

“If you thought her important, you should have got her out of that hellhole years ago. You’re too late. You have no business here, Genevieve.”

“We didn’t sense her until Ryker returned and she—” Genevieve nodded to her, “—was felt all around him. We will not interfere, Kilter, I wish only to speak with Rayne.” The woman smiled, her kind eyes shining a brilliant blue light. “Come, we’ll take a short walk while Kilter changes his . . . attire.” The white angel glared at Kilter then held out her hand, palm down, long slender fingers revealing silver rings on each one.

Rayne hesitated. Kilter had yet to let go of her waist, although
the pressure diminished. Did he trust this woman?

She tilted her head to look up at him. The scowl immediately softened as their eyes met. His fingers slowly caressed her hip
, and the urge to escape the touch had lessened somewhat. She guessed it was how gentle he was being.

Do I go with this woman? Do I leave you? I don’t know who I can trust.
As if reading her mind, he brought his free hand up and stroked her chin with the rough pad of his thumb.

“She is a Wraith. One that is . . . meddling, but compassionate,” Kilter said.

She paused, watching his eyes. They remained steady, and she knew he spoke the truth.

She avoided the offer of the
angel’s hand; instead, she left the steady support of Kilter’s arm and walked towards the door. She looked back over her shoulder at Kilter, who gave her a reassuring nod.

The
angel woman appeared beside her, the swish of her long silk dress rustling against her legs. Rayne guessed the woman was in her late twenties and had the confidence of a dragon with the looks of a swan. Even the way she glided was as though she floated on a cloud. She wondered if she looked beneath the hem of her skirt, if she’d see wheels of some kind.

Genevieve nodded to the right where a closed door and a big sign read ‘
Hot Women Enter.’ “That’s Jedrik’s abode. A rather boyish charm to that one, but you can trust him. He’s a good man. As was Kilter at one time.” She paused then added, “Perhaps still.”

What did that mean?

Rayne paused near the pool table and peered out the windows. The walkout basement had sliding glass doors leading out onto a patio and a garden beyond. The sun beamed across the hardwood floor up onto the fabric of a solid cream-colored pillow sitting on the small bench by the doors. Her eye caught the painting that hung on the wall to the right, and she instantly felt the warmth of the vibrant orange and yellow colors. Just looking at it made her feel tenderness inside.

“The woman who painted it, Danielle, is new to the Senses. It is a
gift for those who lost their lives.” Genevieve gave her a warm smile. “You’re frightened of us, understandably. But the Senses and Wraiths are here to help.”

Wraiths? She had no clue what that was, but after seeing her go from mist into a figure, she knew Wraiths were not from this realm.

Anton had said those exact words after her parents died, and she had refused to go with him. In those days, he had been kind and even patient. He said he wanted to help her get through the grief. All lies. Just like everything else he’d told her.

Genevieve’s voice continued in a lyrical sound as she explained the Toronto house and the Talde, along with a brief explanation as to who the Senses were. “But I suspect you already know about them?”

Rayne nodded.

“That is good,” Genevieve said.

“May I leave here?”

Genevieve’s laughter was a waterfall of rose petals. “My dear, you may do anything you wish. No doors are locked here. Although, I must advise against it, until you’re well. He has hurt you a great deal. Not just physically, but he has harmed your inner self.”

Rayne flinched at her words; it was as if this woman understood. But that was impossible. No one could understand.

She stared out the sliding glass doors
and watched the trees sway in the wind. Off in the distance was a tall tower that looked like a saucer sitting on top of a pole. She wondered what it was. A small brown bird soared past the window to perch on a massive oak tree’s branch.

Rayne spun around when she felt Genevieve’s hand on her shoulder. How she approached without a sound was a mystery. The woman was like a ghost.

“Kilter is driven and harsh. His past . . . well, it is one we all failed at, and so he has suffered and endured much. He is protective of you. And I feel his possessiveness.” She paused, her eyes glimmering with warmth. “But he is not your husband. I have faith that he will never harm you.” Genevieve stroked her hair in a soft caress and sighed. “What Kilter will have a hard time doing is continuing to watch you die. I trust you understand what I am saying.”

She ignored her perceptive comment. What she needed was solitude to calm the chaos of emotions that were going off like a pinball machine.

“Time can heal the most broken souls.” Genevieve smiled, but there was sadness to it. “I will leave you. Know that I will always be near.” She dropped her hand and turned away.

Rayne sat on the bench seat, finally away from prying eyes, raging words and emotions she swore died inside her years ago. She wanted to curl up and sleep for weeks. But feeling safe here was too fragile a thought.

There was a faded memory before her parents died when they lived in Vancouver. She could recall a room all dressed in pink, subtle and soft, like cotton candy. There’d been frills on her bed and curtains with a rocking chair where her mom would sit and read
Winnie the Pooh
or
Curious George.
Had it been a dream? Why were so many memories from her childhood gone? Why couldn’t she recall what her parents looked like anymore?

It had been a long time since she allowed faded memories to take her back to a time when she knew love and joy. And it still hurt like hell.

She placed her feet on the bench, and rested her chin on her knees. This was another prison. Just a decorated one.

“You have to chill
, buddy,” Jedrik said as he shoveled in a mouthful of scrambled eggs.

“You’re not my buddy nor is anyone else in this shithole,” Kilter said, pushing his empty plate away
, then taking a chug of his orange juice.

Galen refilled his plate with another helping of toast and his favorite morning vegetable—green beans. Kilter’s stomach churned as Galen made a green bean sandwich with a shitload of hot mustard and
Tabasco sauce.

Jedrik laughed
, shaking his head. “You know Galen, ever thought of going on
Fear Factor?
Cause, man, you could win it hands down.”

“Ain’t eating no bugs. I hate those things. June bugs, cockroaches.” He shivered. “Could you imagine the sick crunch those suckers would make? Not happening.”

“Hey, boys.” Anstice came into the room and sat next to Jedrik. She grabbed a plate and began filling it with scrambled eggs. “What things?”

“Galen hates eating bugs,” Jedrik announced.

“Really? Any bugs or just certain ones?” Anstice asked.

“Anything with a solid crunch,” Jedrik said. He grabbed a green bean, lifted it to his mouth and crunched. “Mmm, friggin’ good.”

Galen threw a piece of toast at him, but Jedrik was quick with his telekinesis and sent a strip of bacon back at him.

“So what’s the deal with this chick?” Jedrik asked, looking at Kilter. “Never heard of you wanting to protect anyone besides yourself. Why her?”

Kilter didn’t feel the need to justify his actions to any of them. Shit, the truth was he didn’t even know why. He was sure as hell pissed that Genevieve had appeared. He hadn’t seen her in over a hundred years, after the Ulrich thing went down. It brought back emotions he wanted no part of. Emotions that—

“Hey, buddy.” Jedrik interrupted his thoughts. “Be nice, if you catch us up to speed on what’s going down with Rayne. All we know is that her husband owned that compound we found Ryker in and they had a hard-on to incarcerate our asses. Any idea what he was trying to accomplish? The chick tell you anything? Ryker remembers nada, blocked it out
, no doubt.” Jedrik shook his head. “Friggin’ guy has completely lost it. Shit, losing Hannah really destroyed him.”

“She knows nothing,” Kilter snapped. He had a feeling that was only partial
ly true, but he had no intentions of letting them hassle her for info. It wasn’t important any longer. He’d looked after the situation. Compound destroyed along with her dickhead husband.