The Unwanted (A Novella of the FBI Psychics) (2 page)

He was painfully, acutely aware of the woman sitting off to his side.

Shifting his attention to her, he found himself staring at her profile. Her gaze was locked on some point just above Oz’s head, like she couldn’t be bothered to look at him and he guessed he couldn’t blame her.

After all, he’d walked away from her.

He’d walked away from this woman he’d loved more than anything…Destin Mortin…the woman who had slowly been killing him inside. She just hadn’t realized it.

His heart had withered away to ashes inside his chest over the past five years and he hadn’t ever planned on seeing her again. If it wasn’t for Oz, he could have probably managed to do just that.

Now? Shit,
now
he couldn’t remember how he’d felt just five minutes ago—when he’d been almost level. Not happy, never that. Not without her. But he’d existed. He’d been level.

Now it was like he was freefalling all over again.

And she still wouldn’t look at him.

Hell, maybe that was best. If he could get settled again before those big blue eyes shifted his way, he’d be better off.

Time fell away and it was like the very first time he’d seen her. Just like then, he wanted to grab her and protect her against all the world. He wanted to grab her and do every dirty thing imaginable to her. He wanted to grab her and just stare at her face. Learn everything that had happened in the past five years.

Even though he knew every line of her face, every inch of her body, he wanted to relearn them, see if anything had changed.

And
still
, she hadn’t looked at him.

All he could see was her profile, the clear, elegant lines of her cheek, her chin. The straight line of her nose, her unsmiling mouth.

She was still so beautiful. And if he let himself, he could lower his shields and find himself lost in the heat of her. That wild, powerful soul. The temptation was strong.

No. Don’t, Caleb. You’re here for a job, only a job
. With that thought firm in his mind, he did a quick mental check on his shields. All nice and solid.

So far, she hadn’t turned to look at him and that was good. Gave him a minute to settle himself before he looked into that beautiful face, before he lost himself in the vivid intensity that glowed in her ice-blue eyes. She’d cut her hair. Seriously cut, as in so short it almost looked like she’d buzzed the back of it. It was longer on top, falling in straight, silken tresses to frame her face. As he studied her, she reached up, pushing her fingers through the soft, black strands. Her nails were unpolished, clipped almost brutally short, not a single ring in sight. He frowned, trying to recall if he’d ever seen those pretty hands without polish and glittery rings.

She glanced at him over her shoulder, a quick look that let him see her face for all of, oh, maybe three seconds. Then she looked back at Oz. “What’s the deal, Oz?”

“A job,” Oz said, smiling a little. “You didn’t think I called you in here for cupcakes and milk, did you?”

Destin sighed and crossed one leg over the other. “I can always hope. I
like
cupcakes and milk.”

Her unspoken words hung heavy between.
I don’t like
this
. Not at all.

I’m not too thrilled about it myself, sugar
,
he thought sourly as the ache in his chest twisted, shifted, settled.

It was a good thing he hadn’t come out here with any big expectations about getting over Destin. Because
that
obviously hadn’t happened.

Destin seemed about as thrilled to have him there as he was about being there, he decided, venturing a few more feet into the room. With his heart a leaden weight, he shifted his attention away from her to look at Oz.

It didn’t matter that he’d focused, meditated, prepared himself.

It was like preparing yourself to ride a tornado.

There was just
no
preparing yourself for the ride to come. You could know it was going to happen, but that was it.

Staring into her pale green eyes, he thought bitterly,
Damn you, Oz
.

If he wasn’t mistaken, there was amusement in her eyes.

Yeah, you be amused, scheming bitch
, he thought sourly as he settled in the chair next to Destin’s. One nice thing about the fact that she wasn’t in the Bureau anymore, he didn’t have to school his thoughts quite so much.

She might pick up the odd and random thought, but she wasn’t his boss and he didn’t have to deal with her once he finished here.

Destin crossed her legs, lovely legs left bare by the knee-length black skirt. It was almost severe in its simplicity, but she could have been wearing sackcloth and it wouldn’t detract from the sheer beauty of her.

Her skin was the color of sun-kissed ivory…she didn’t tan. She never had, but her skin would get this soft glow. Just the faintest bit of color. It made him think of peaches. And he wanted to stroke a hand down her thigh, press a kiss to her knee. Caleb had the weirdest feeling that if he closed his eyes, he could smell the sweet scent of Destin’s skin on the air. Lust and need punched through him.

Not what you need to think about
.

Job. He was just here about a job.

Tapping his fingers on the arm of the chair, he said softly, “You want to tell me why I was put on a plane at four o’clock in the afternoon? By now, I ought to be settling down to eat dinner, watch some TV and relax. Instead…I’m here. Why am I here?” Flicking a glance at his watch, he checked the time. Play it cool. That was what he had to do. Play it cool so neither of them realized how hard it was to be here.

Play it cool and maybe nobody would realize the truth…he still loved the woman sitting next to him. He always would.

“I’m sorry to interrupt your precious alone time,” Oz said, lifting a brow as she studied him. “I just have this case…a series of date rapes in Charlottesville, Virginia. Pretty little college town.”

That explained why Destin was needed. It was just up her alley. Didn’t explain why he was here. She’d been working cases like this just fine without him for five years.

“Charlottesville is a little out of the way for you,” Caleb said, absently tapping out a beat on the arm of a chair. “If you planned on sending me flying back to Virginia, why fly me down to Texas to begin with?”

Oz gave him a cool look. “I needed to make sure the job was going to click for you. I never know that until I have you in front of me, and you won’t know until you read through the files.”

She was bullshitting him over something. He could tell. But he hadn’t bought the plane ticket and he didn’t plan on buying the one back to Washington, either. With a negligent shrug, he said, “If you say so, Oz.”

The look on her face had been known to reduce people to stammers and stutters. Caleb just stared at her. He wasn’t playing her games anymore. Didn’t have to play her games. It had been made damn clear he wasn’t obligated to take this “assignment”. It might be appreciated, but it wasn’t required.

If Oz thought he’d jump just because she said so, she needed to readjust her thinking.

Of course, if he left, he wouldn’t be able to see Destin…

And he was an idiot.
She
was the entire reason he’d come here.

“I assume Durand is the only other one you think is suitable for the job?” Destin asked.

Caleb didn’t need to look at her to know she was scowling.

Oz settled back in her chair and plucked a piece of imaginary lint from the lapel of her navy blue suit. “Yes.” She gave him a narrow look before she looked back at Destin. “Now, I want you both aware of a few things. Officially, I’m
not
sending anybody out there. As of yet, there’s little reason for us to get involved and nobody has contracted for our services. The locals aren’t having much luck and, to be completely honest, there’s no reason for federal involvement on your end, Durand. It’s not entirely likely that’s going to happen, either. This guy is smart. He’s not going to do anything that will catch federal interest.”

“He caught yours,” Caleb pointed out.
And just how did he do that?

“That’s true. Pity, that.” Her lashes swept down, shielding her eyes.

Something pulsed inside him and he had to wonder…
Just what aren’t you telling us?
She didn’t elaborate, and he suspected she wasn’t going to.

But he wasn’t wrong. He knew it, could feel it in his gut, a sharp, strong tug. Studying her face, he tried to get some clue as to what was going on, but there wasn’t one. Since he wasn’t one of the psychics who could read thoughts, he was just going to have to play her game until she decided to tell him.

He hated these games. At least with Jones, the bastard laid things out on the table.

Oz continued to watch him expectantly so he went ahead and gave her what she seemed to need. “So if there’s no reason for federal involvement, just why am I here?”

“I think a two-party team would work best,” she said vaguely. “And you’re the person who works best with Destin. In the past five years, she’s worked with all my other people and she’s never managed to click with them quite the way she clicked with you. That’s what I need on this. I need my best, which is her, and she needs all the tools I can give her.”

“But you’re still not answering why you’re bothering to put a team out there at all. Screw whether it’s me or somebody else.
Why
get involved? Why do you need anybody out there at all, much less one of your best?” Destin asked, shooting Caleb a narrow look.

You really don’t want me here, do you, doll?

A slow smiled curled Oz’s lips, but she didn’t say anything.
Playing her cards close to her chest
,
Caleb thought moodily. “She’s not going to tell you anything yet, Destin. She’s having too much fun with her head games on this one,” he said, keeping his voice flat and his gaze focused on the boss’s face.

“Oh, come on now,” Oz said, her voice light, belying the hard glint he saw in her eyes. “There’s more to this than head games.”

“Okay. Then spill it.” He wasn’t holding his breath on that happening, though.

“Why…it needs to be done.” Oz smiled again, an inscrutable little curve of her lips that made his spine go tight and his gut go cold. That smile never meant good things. Oz had some sort of insight into this job.

For the past five years, he’d been working with a man who’d pushed him to his limits. Taylor Jones was brilliant. He was driven and he had a knack for knowing which of his agents was the right one for any particular job, but he had no real psychic skill.

Oz, on the other hand…

Oz was a different story. She had an erratic ability that could be as strong as an F-5 tornado one day and then she’d be unable to predict anything for months. When her visions came on, they came on strong. But they weren’t always useful. One of the weirdest visions she’d told them about had been when she’d once helped a sixty-three-year-old widow find her missing wedding ring. The vision had pulled her out of bed at night and she hadn’t been able to sleep until she found the woman, somebody she’d never met, living in a town two hours away.

Then she’d spent the next four months unable to see anything.

It also meant he had to do the job, whether he liked it or not. Maybe Jones wasn’t going to force it on him, but if Oz was having one of her gut feelings about this, there was no way he could just turn his back and walk out.

That look in her eyes wasn’t because she had an odd little feeling or she’d heard rumors, damn it all.

“If it needs to be done, then quit dicking around and tell me why I’m here,” he said flatly. “I wrapped up a case today, I’m tired and I’m hungry and I wasn’t planning on boarding a plane back to Virginia at the end of the day, either.”

Destin shot him a dark look.

He ignored it.

Oz just smiled. “Don’t worry…I plan on letting you catch some sleep first. The flight doesn’t head out until noon tomorrow. You’ve got time to sleep, grab a meal, all of that. You know, you used to be a lot more charming than this, Durand,” she said as she leaned forward and laid two files flat on her desk. “Is Jones working all the fun out of you?”

“He keeps me working and he does it without the mind games…so maybe. Can we get on with this?” Leaning forward, he grabbed one of the files from the front edge of Oz’s desk.

Destin leaned forward at the same time and their hands brushed against each other. Such a simple touch and electricity sparked through him. A muscle jerked in his jaw, but he managed to keep any other reaction hidden—he thought. Locked down good and tight behind his shields, even though the shields weren’t really necessary to keep the distance between him and Destin.

She could pick up on random thoughts and emotions, but she had to look for them and he doubted she’d be looking for that from him. Beyond that, her empathy was a very specific, very strange sort. It reacted to violence—specifically sexual violence, for reasons nobody really understood. Not even Destin—probably especially Destin. Caleb had his theories, but the one time he had really tried to push…well, she locked down so tight on him, pulled back. It had been the beginning of the end for them.

Settling back in his chair, he flipped open the file and studied it. Not a lot to go on, but they’d made do with less. He skimmed each report while Destin kept hers closed in her lap. He heard a soft breath and he glanced at her from the corner of his eye, watched as she laid her hands on the file, flexed them, and squared her shoulders.