Beneath a Darkening Moon (40 page)
Read Beneath a Darkening Moon Online
Authors: Keri Arthur
Her grin grew. “He won’t leave.”
“You’re sure of that?”
“Yes.”
“Then tell me why the hell he isn’t here begging for your forgiveness and running after your every need?”
“Because he doesn’t need my forgiveness, and because he’s well aware that I’m more than capable of taking care of myself.”
“That doesn’t excuse him for not coming to visit you.”
Well, no, it didn’t. But he
had
been here, for every single moment of the ten hours she’d been out of it. And while she wasn’t entirely sure why he hadn’t come back to visit her in the two days since then, she
trusted what they had between them enough to know he wasn’t going anywhere. Whatever he was up to, he had his reasons.
“I’m going to talk to him now.” Savannah finished putting her hair into a ponytail, wincing a little as pain slithered through her bruised muscles.
“You shouldn’t even be out of bed yet.”
“God, have you and Ronan taken nagging pills? He’s currently down the hall, harassing the nurses, trying to force me to stay.”
Neva grinned. “I know. I passed him on the way up.”
“Then why didn’t you tell him not to waste his breath?”
“Because it’s his breath to waste, and because Ari is down there. She’s rather keen on him, you know.”
“Yeah, I know … but he keeps missing the clues.”
Neva chuckled softly. “Well, hopefully he’s realized what’s been waiting for him all along. Ari’s a great catch, and she’d be a good match for Ronan.”
Savannah wagged a finger at her. “Don’t you start playing matchmaking games. He’ll only sense it and get pissed off.”
“You’re no fun,” Neva muttered, the twinkle in her eyes suggesting the idea was neither gone nor forgotten. She levered herself off the bed. “You want a ride anywhere?”
“No. I need to stretch my aching muscles.”
“And here I thought the doc had ordered you to rest.”
He had. And she would, once she was with Cade. “If you keep bugging me, I’ll tell Duncan to take you back to the mansion and make you rest.”
“Even Duncan’s not brave enough to try that a second time.” Neva waddled to her and lightly touched a hand to Savannah’s cheek. “Let me know how things go.”
“I will.”
Once Neva had left, Savannah walked over to the bed and opened the bag. Loose pants, a sweater, and flip-flops. Not the most attractive outfit, but at least it was comfortable. And she doubted Cade would be too worried about what she was wearing.
She dressed and left the hospital—and left a happy Ronan flirting shamelessly with an even happier Ari.
The day was crisp and sunny—the perfect autumn day—and yet there was a touch of winter in the breeze. Savannah paused on the bottom-most step and breathed deeply, clearing her lungs of the stale hospital air. Then she turned and walked to her lodge.
By the time she’d reached the bottom of the steep driveway, she was sweating and aching and calling herself names for not accepting Neva’s offer. The beating had sapped her strength more than she’d realized, and the driveway might as well be Mount Everest, for all the hope she had of climbing it now.
But before she could call for help, Cade appeared, walking down the driveway toward her. She didn’t move, just enjoyed the sight of him—enjoyed the play of sun across his lightly tanned arms, the way his thigh muscles moved under his jeans, even the easy way he walked. But most of all, she enjoyed the way his navy gaze met hers, held hers, as if she were something so precious he feared to look away in case she disappeared.
“Need a hand?” he said, as he stopped in front of her.
She smiled. “Yeah. I overestimated my strength, I’m afraid.”
“You should have called.”
“I wanted to walk.”
“And now you’re regretting it.”
“And now I’m regretting it,” she agreed.
A smile touched his lips, and he carefully picked her up and carried her back up the hill. She sighed in contentment and rested her head against his shoulder, listening to the soothing, steady beat of his heart.
She could have stayed there forever.
“Been fixing a few things up,” he said as they approached the lodge.
Her gaze skirted across the old building. At first glance, there didn’t appear to be much different from when she’d last seen it. Then she noticed that the front steps had been repaired, and the skeleton of a new roof had appeared over the damaged wing.
“So you have.” She met his gaze. “You didn’t have to.”
“Yes, I did.” He walked through the open front door, up the stairs and along the hall with the roof still intact. The air was fresh, filled with the sharpness of new paint. Not all the walls were painted, but most were at least patched. “But not for the reasons you think.”
She raised her eyebrows as he walked into one of the end rooms. The old sofa they’d used the first time they’d made love had been dragged in here, and he’d started a fire. He’d been expecting her. He placed her on the sofa and squatted in front of her.
She touched a hand to his cheek and slid it down his lips. He kissed each finger as she asked, “And what might those reasons be?”
“This isn’t an apology,” he said, waving a hand at the freshly painted walls around them.
She knew that already, but she still asked the question, simply because he wanted her to ask. “Then what is it?”
“A promise. A commitment.” He touched a hand to her cheek, his fingers warm and gentle against her skin. “What I did to you is a nightmare that will haunt the worst of my nights, but I won’t let it destroy me, and I won’t let it destroy us. I may not know you as well as I should, but I do love you, Savannah, and I want to live the rest of my life with you.”
His emotions, so raw and deep, had tears touching her eyes. “Good, because I sure as hell wasn’t going to let you go anywhere anyway.”
He grinned and leaned forward, gently kissing her bruised mouth. “Had the posse ready to go, huh?”
“Neva did. I told her we wouldn’t need it.” She ran her fingers through his silky brown hair, then slid them around the back of his neck. “You knew I was okay. That’s why you weren’t at the hospital.”
His grin became wry. “Actually, I wasn’t at the hospital because your dad threatened to do me serious bodily harm if I didn’t leave you alone and give you time to recover and think.”
“I am going to
kill
my father.”
Cade shrugged. “He was only protecting what’s his.”
“I’m not his. I’m yours.”
“I told him that. He wasn’t inclined to believe me.”
“So why didn’t you just arrest his sorry ass and come visit me anyhow?”
“Because the man is going to be my father-in-law, and that would have started our relationship on the worst possible foot.”
She slid her other hand around his neck and wriggled closer, until he was kneeling between her spread legs. “That almost sounds like a proposal.”
“And it just might be.”
“If it is, it’s not a very romantic one.”
He studied her for a moment. The smile on his lips and the love so evident in his eyes made her feel safe and warm and wanted. Like she’d finally come home after a long time away.
And in so many ways, she had.
“You’re wearing multicolored bruises, an old track suit, and flip-flops,” he said. “Not exactly a romantic outfit.”
“What if I wasn’t wearing it?”
“Tempting, but for those bruises.”
“I’m sure a clever man could work around the bruises.”
The sexy smile tugging at his lips made her hormones sizzle and her heart feel like it was about to leap out of her chest. “Is that a challenge, woman?”
“Are you up for a challenge?” She let her gaze slide down. “It certainly looks like you are.”
“I’m always ready for a challenge, but not until you’ve answered the question on the table.”
She leaned forward and kissed him. “What question?”
“Will you marry me?”
“If I say yes, will you shut up and make love to me?”
He pulled the zipper of her top down, revealing her breasts. “Yes.”
“Then the answer is yes.”
“Good.” He slid her top off and shucked off his own shirt. “I wasn’t going to accept any other answer, anyway.”
“You promised to shut up.”
“And make love to you,” he agreed. He took her face between his hands and kissed her carefully, but oh-so-wonderfully. “It’s a promise I intend to keep every single day, for the rest of our lives.”
“Then shut up and get down to it,” she teased.
He did—and amply proved just how clever a man he was.
If you loved Neva and Savannah’s stories in
Beneath a Rising Moon
and
Beneath a Darkening Moon
, then be sure not to miss the exciting beginning of the Nikki and Michael series!
Dancing with the Devil
by
Keri Arthur
The first book in the Nikki and Michael series will be followed by the next three Nikki and Michael titles at one-month intervals:
Hearts in Darkness, Chasing the Shadows
, and
Kiss the Night Goodbye
. Here’s a special preview:
S
OMEONE FOLLOWED HER
.
Someone she couldn’t see or hear through any normal means, but whose presence vibrated across her psychic senses.
Someone whose mission was death.
The wind stirred, running chill fingers across the nape of her neck. Nikki shivered and eyed the surrounding shadows uneasily. She’d never been afraid of the dark before—had, in fact, found it something of an ally, especially in the wilder days of her youth. But tonight there was an edge to the silence, a hint of menace in the slowly swirling fog.
People disappeared on nights like this. At least, they did here in Lyndhurst.
She returned her gaze to the slender figure just ahead. This was the second night in a row Monica Trevgard had come to the park after midnight, and if the teenager had a reason for doing so, Nikki sure as hell hadn’t found any evidence of it. Her actions to date made very little sense. The only child of one of Lyndhurst’s—and possibly America’s—richest men, Monica had spent most of her life rebelling against her family and their wealth. And yet, ironically, it was only thanks to her father’s money that she was free to walk the streets tonight. Though nothing had ever been proven, it was generally acknowledged that John Trevgard had at least one judge and several police officers on his payroll.
Nikki smiled grimly. Trevgard would probably have been better off keeping his hand in his pocket and letting his only child spend some time in jail. Maybe a day or so locked behind uncompromising concrete walls would shock some sense into the girl.
It sure as hell had with
her
.
Shoving cold hands into the pockets of her old leather jacket, Nikki let her gaze roam across the fog-shrouded trees to her left.
He was still there, still following her, the man with darkness in his heart and murder on his mind. But not her murder, or even Monica’s. Someone else’s entirely.
She bit her lip. With two knives strapped to her wrists and her psychic abilities to fall back on, she was sufficiently protected. At least under normal circumstances. But the man out there in the darkness
was far from normal, and something told her none of her weapons would be enough if he chose to attack.
Maybe
she
was as mad as Monica. Four women had already disappeared from this particular area. She should play it safe and go home, let Jake—her boss, and the man who’d become more of a parent to her than her own damn parents ever had been—take over the case. A teenager looking for trouble was going to find it—no matter how many people her father hired to follow and protect her.
Only Jake had enough on his plate already, and his night-sight had started deteriorating since he’d hit the big four-0 several years ago.
The sound of running water broke through the heavy silence. Though the fog half-hid the old fountain from sight, Nikki knew it well enough to describe every chipped detail, from the wickedly grinning cherub at the top to the embracing lovers near the bottom. It was amazing what became interesting when you had nothing else to do but watch a teenager watch the water.
Only, this time, Monica didn’t stop at the fountain. She didn’t even look at it. Instead, she glanced quickly over her shoulder—a casual move that raised the hairs on the back of Nikki’s neck.
Monica knew she was being followed. Tonight she was the bait to catch the watcher.
The bitter breeze stirred, seeming to blow right through her soul. Nikki swore softly and ran a hand through her hair. It was nights like this, when she was caught between common sense and past promises, that she really hated being psychic. She would have run a mile away from here had it not been for her gift,
which warned that death would claim Monica’s soul if she weren’t protected tonight.
And because she couldn’t stand the weight of another death on her conscience, she had no real choice but to follow.
They neared the far edge of the park. Streetlights glimmered—forlorn wisps of brightness barely visible through the trees and the fog—and Nikki’s discomfort surged. Monica wasn’t heading for the street or the lights, but rather toward the old mansion on the far side of the park. The place had a reputation for being haunted, and though she wasn’t particularly afraid of ghosts, the one night she’d spent there as a kid had sent her fleeing in terror. Not from the ghosts, but from the sense of evil that seemed to ooze from the walls.
Of course, it might have been nothing more than a combination of knowing that a family had once been murdered there, and an overactive imagination. But still …
Monica squeezed through a small gap in the fence and cast another quick look over her shoulder. There was no doubt about it—the kid definitely wanted to be followed.
Nikki stopped and watched her walk up the steps to the back door. Her common sense told her not to follow, and her psychic sense told her danger lurked inside. She clenched her fists. She could do this. She
had
to do this. For Monica’s sake.
Because if she didn’t, the teenager was doomed.
She stepped forward, then froze. No sound had disturbed the dark silence. Even the breeze had faded, and the fog sat still and heavy on the ground. Yet
something had moved behind her. Something not quite human.
Throat dry, Nikki turned. Out of the corner of her eye, she caught a hint of movement—a hand, emerging from darkness, reaching out to touch her …
Yelping in fright, she jumped back and lashed out with a blast of kinetic energy. Something heavy hit a nearby oak, accompanied by a grunt of pain. She stared at the tree. Despite the sound, there was nothing or nobody at its base.
Yet something had to be there. It didn’t make any sense—bodies just didn’t disappear like that. She swallowed and ran trembling fingers through her hair. Disembodied hands couldn’t emerge from the darkness, either.
Had it just been her imagination, finally reacting to the overwhelming sensation of being followed? No, something
had
been there. Was
still
there, even if she couldn’t see it.
Not that
that
made a whole lot of sense.
She turned and studied the dark house instead. Trouble waited inside. But so did Monica.
Ignoring her unknown watcher, she climbed through the fence and ran across the shadowed yard. Edging up the steps, she slipped a small flashlight from her pocket and shone the light through the open doorway.
The entrance hall was small, laden with dust and cobwebs that shimmered like ice in the beam of light. Faded crimson-and-gold wallpaper hung in eerie strips from the walls, rustling lightly in the breeze that drifted past her legs. The house really hadn’t changed much in the ten years since she’d been here last—
except for one thing. The creeping sense of evil felt a hell of a lot stronger now than it ever had before. In fact, it almost seemed alive. Alive, and waiting.
She swallowed heavily and directed the flashlight’s beam toward the stairs. Motes of dust danced across the light, stirred to life in the wake of Monica’s passing. She’d gone up. Up to where the sense of evil felt the strongest.
Gripping the flashlight tightly, Nikki walked through the dust toward the stairs. The air smelled of decay and unwashed bodies. Obviously, it was still a haunt for those forced to scratch a living from the streets. It was odd, though, that there was no one here now—no one but Monica and whoever it was she’d come here to meet.
A floorboard creaked beneath Nikki’s weight, the sound as loud as thunder in the silence. She winced and hesitated. After several heartbeats, someone moved on the floor above.
It wasn’t Monica. The footfalls were too heavy.
Reaching into her pocket, Nikki turned on her phone. If things started to go bad, she’d call for help. Trevgard might not like the publicity a call to the cops would bring, but if it meant the difference between life or death—
her
life or death—then he could go to hell.
The staircase loomed out of the shadows. Nikki shone the light upward. Something growled—a low sound almost lost under the thundering of her heart. She hesitated, staring up into the darkness. It had sounded like some sort of animal. But what animal made such an odd, rasping noise?
One hand on the banister, the other clutching the
flashlight so tightly that her knuckles began to ache, she continued on. The growl cut across the silence again.
It was definitely
not
an animal.
She reached the landing and stopped. The odd-sounding snarl seemed much closer this time. Sweat trickled down her face and the flashlight flickered slightly, its beam fading, allowing the darkness to close in around her. Nikki swore and gave it a quick shake. The last thing she needed right now was for the light to give out.
The light flickered again, then became brighter. She moved on but kept close to the wall, just in case. At least she could use it as a guide, even if the peeling remains of the wallpaper felt like dead skin against her fingertips.
The hallway ended in a T. Moonlight washed through the shattered window at the end of the left-hand corridor. On the right, the darkness was so complete that the flashlight barely penetrated it. And while she knew it was little more than a result of shuttered windows down that end of the hall, it still seemed oddly unnatural.
It wasn’t a place she wanted to go. Unfortunately, Monica was down there somewhere. But that odd sound had come from the left. Whatever it was, she had to check it out first. She wasn’t about to risk being attacked from behind in a place like this. So she turned left. Two doors waited ahead—one open, one closed.
Was it just fear or instinct that warned against entering either room?
The wind whispered forlornly through the shattered
window, accompanied by a low moan that raised goose bumps across her skin.
It was definitely more human than animal. And it wasn’t Monica. The teenager still waited in the darkness of the right-hand corridor. Edging forward, Nikki peered around the doorframe. Nothing moved in the moon-washed darkness, but something was in there. The sense of malevolence was so overwhelming she could barely breathe.
So why don’t you turn around and run?
The thought whispered into her brain, feather-light but hinting at anger. Nikki froze, fear squeezing her throat tight. Just for an instant, her mind linked with another. She tasted darkness and concern and the need to kill. This was the man she’d half-seen near the fence, the man who’d followed her through the fog.
Turn around and leave. You cannot help the child now
.
No
. Why could she hear this man’s thoughts? Telepathy had never been one of her talents, even though she’d been able to receive Tommy’s thoughts well enough.
And who the hell are you to tell me what to do?
I am merely trying to save your life. You will not like what you find here. Not in that room, and not with the teenager
.
Yeah, right
. Who was this weirdo? A would-be prophet of doom?
I have never run from anything in my life, and I don’t intend to start now
.
The lie gave her courage. She took a deep breath and stepped into the room.
M
ICHAEL
K
ELLY HIT
the fence in frustration. The little fool had gone in, despite his warning. Or perhaps because of it.
She knew that danger waited. He could taste the fear in her thoughts, despite the distance between them. So why wouldn’t she run? Why did she continue this fruitless pursuit? Given the strength of her psychic talents, she had to know the child was well beyond salvation.
He let his gaze roam to the far end of the house. Hidden by the darkness, evil waited for his next meal, ably served by his young companion. Unless
he
intervened, Nikki James would become the fifth woman to go missing.
Had it been anyone else, he wouldn’t particularly have cared—not given the identity of the man who hunted her, a man he’d long hunted himself. But he’d been sent here tonight to save a life rather than trap and kill a murderer, and as much as he might want to do the latter, he could not. But Nikki’s abilities added a dangerous dimension to his task. It was for those abilities, more than for her blood, that Jasper hunted her.
He turned and walked to the end of the fence. The sudden movement caused pain to shoot through his head, but he resisted the urge to rub the lump forming near his temple. He had deserved that—and more—for being so careless. But he hadn’t expected the fool to use her kinetic abilities against him. Why, he couldn’t say. He smiled grimly. Maybe senility was finally setting in.
