Between Darkness and Daylight (43 page)

"I've got time."

"I've interrupted your Christmas dinner already."

"My crazy clan ain't missing me just yet. They're all fired up over some board game. You know how rowdy they get. Won't miss little ol' me.

So give."

Nova smiled at her friend's drawl, the accent thickening more and more with every passing minute. She must have been out there at least a couple of days.

She began her tale at the mugging, how the "child" in question had tried to relieve her of her purse and several hundred dollars' worth of electronic equipment. By the time she got to the part about waiting in the precinct nursing a black eye, Kaylee was breathless from laughing so hard.

"Only you would survive a near-death experience on a killer mountain, only to get mugged in New York City by a teenager."

"Thanks for seeing the irony. And he's not just a teenager. He's thirteen going on thirty-five, trust me." Nova grinned, pressing the phone close to her ear as if this would bring the reality of Ransom and Zane closer, as if she could convey over the phone to Kaylee how much she cared about these two males.

"Nova, I have a confession to make."

"Oh, what's that?"

"The thing about the stranger from your visions, and the entire near-death experience…well, to say the least, I doubted your sanity."

"You don't anymore?"

"Not without doubting my own, since I do believe you, honey."

"You do?"

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"I don't know what it is, the sincere way you sound when you talk about him or just your decision to move halfway across the country on a hunch. But, yeah, you got me believing in all this psychic stuff."

Nova chuckled. "Hey, if I can come around, anyone can."

"So, what's it like, meeting your soul mate?"

"Soul mate?" Who'd said anything about soul mate? Kaylee was off and jumping to conclusions, something for which she was pretty famous.

"You do realize you've met him, don't you?"

"Now you sound like my mother."

"She might be onto something."

"Bite your tongue." Nova listened to Kaylee giggling on the other end, wondering at the seriousness of her words.

From the first moment she'd laid eyes on Zane at the precinct, there'd been something about him that she just knew. Several somethings. She'd known his desires and needs, understood his strengths and fears. Her soul had recognized his soul, reaching out to the familiar, welcoming warmth of a like-minded entity.

She sighed. "Maybe you and my mother are onto something."

"You think?"

"When I finally met him, it was like two halves of a whole coming together, as if I had found a piece of myself I hadn't known was missing.

When I shook his hand, something clicked into place, like I knew everything about who he was and what he wanted to be. His dreams came to me in one flash. I touched his insides."

"Sounds like some heady trip."

"That's one expression for it. Cornball and cliché are others."

"Don't knock it until you've tried it."

"I wish I could be as optimistic about all this as you."

"Hey, you believe in life after death and psychic visions. True love is so much less complicated than that."

Nova didn't want to pop Kaylee's bubble, but her friend hadn't seen Zane's face when he'd walked out the door. She almost wished
she
hadn't seen it. He was as unreachable, impenetrable, and far away from uncomplicated as it was possible to get.

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He was going to be a tough nut to crack, tougher even than she had been, because she wouldn't just be contending with his fear and disbelief, but with her betrayal of him.

* * * *

"Will you stop staring at me like that, Ran? I'm not going to change my mind, and we're not going back there."

Ransom's eyebrows shot up. "Staring at you like what?"

Zane almost said "Like I just killed your mother" but caught himself.

There was enough strife and tension in their relationship without adding that bit of insensitivity. "Just stop it."

"I really think if you just hear her out and give her a chance to explain—"

"I can't trust her, Ransom. What about that needs explaining?"

"How about you love her?"

"She's not free to be with m—" Zane cut himself off, stared at Ransom, realized he was talking to a thirteen-year-old about his love life.

He was losing it big time.

"Who says she's not free?"

"Her fiancé for one."

"Her fiancé?"

Zane's sense of victory was short-lived when he saw the wounded look of shock on his nephew's face. He wanted to take it back, but the kid needed to know the truth.

Just when he felt like he could deal with Nova's uncanny talents, when he thought he'd tackled his fear and skepticism and had reconciled himself to being with someone preternatural, she dropped yet another bombshell.

Or rather her fiancé had dropped it.

How could she keep her pre-marital status from him? Such an

important piece of information about her life, that she was in a relationship? And not just in a relationship. She was engaged to be married!

She'd denied it of course, but not vehemently enough for Zane's tastes, and the guy had been so cock-sure and firm about it. How could Zane 304

Gracie C. McKeever

doubt the veracity of his claim? Especially when Nova had a history of not leveling with him?

He felt exposed and raw, like his heart was sitting outside his chest for all the world to see, like each and every passenger on the train could look at his face and know what had happened between him and Nova.

"I don't understand," Ransom finally murmured.

"For once, I think we're on the same page."

"But Uncle Zane, she loves you. I know she does."

"Evidently that’s not enough."

"Look, I know seeing that other dude with her must have hurt you pretty bad. But I don't think she's the kind of woman who'd string you along."

Zane didn't think so either, but what other explanation was there?

And if love wasn’t enough to keep him and Nova together, then what was?

Death?

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Chapter 28

Zane was deliberate. Nova knew this about the man, if she knew nothing else. He was a lot of things she was not.

She understood Matt's arrival had shocked him and that he had some serious issues to think about—specifically whether to continue a relationship with her or to cut her off completely and not risk anymore unpleasant surprises.

Nova told herself again and again that she'd understand if he chose the latter. He'd already been dealing with a woman who, by normal standards, was far different from what most people dealt with, and had only recently come around to accepting her for what she was. Then on the heels of this acceptance, he'd learned that she had a fiancé that she hadn't told him about. He hadn't wanted to hear her when she tried to explain about Matt, about their past relationship, emphasis on the
past.
He hadn't wanted anything to do with her.

She knew he had every reason to mistrust her, every reason to be peeved at her, but the least he could do was return her phone calls. Nova didn't know how much longer she could take this limbo. She needed to know the verdict, good or bad.

When the phone rang, jerking her out of her reverie, she thought she'd finally succeeded at manifesting her destiny, that it was Zane returning one of her many calls.

She snatched the handset out of its cradle. "Bornstein and Connor, Nova Foxx speaking."

"Hi Nova."

"Ransom?"

"I was hoping you wouldn't recognize my voice, that it was getting deeper."

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She chuckled, glad for the reprieve, even if it wasn't exactly the one she'd been hoping for. "Your voice is getting deeper. I just took a wild guess."

"You're a good liar, but thanks anyway."

"So, to what do I owe this honor?"

"No reason. I just had a break between classes and figured I'd sneak you a call."

Nova didn't know what to say, finally blurted the one thing that was on both their minds. "How's your uncle?"

He sighed on the other end. "He's okay, I guess."

"You don't sound so sure."

"Can I ask you a question, Nova?"

She had learned from all her years on the planet that when someone prefaced a question like that, it meant trouble. But she figured she couldn't get into more trouble with Ransom than she already was. "Sure. Shoot."

"Why are grownups so stubborn?"

"Should I take that personally?"

"No. It's just a general question. But you know, you just answered my question with a question. That's a sign of evasiveness."

"Anyone ever tell you you're a sharp cookie?"

He laughed. "I was hoping he'd have come around by now, for sure."

"So was I."

"Why don't you call him?"

"Ransom, I have."

"Oh."

The line went quiet between them, white noise and their breathing filling the silence, and the only thing that Nova could think about was why Ransom was so sure his uncle would come around. Wishful thinking? Or had his uncle said something specific to him, something along the forgive-and-forget-and-love-Nova-forever-can't-live-without-her lines?

"Are you really engaged to be married, Nova?" When she was silent for a moment, he pushed, "Nova? Are you?"

"I was."

"But you're not anymore?"

She knew what the kid was looking for. He needed confirmation that his uncle hadn't been dealing with a lying, cheating madwoman all long.

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He needed to know that he hadn't misplaced his own fragile trust. "Ran, things were over between Matt and me long before I came out to New York, more than a year ago."

"Then why—?"

"Because I wasn't firm enough to say it's over, really over. I guess I unintentionally strung him along. And made it worse by not explaining things to Zane right up front." She took a deep breath after her confession, feeling as if someone had just removed a gigantic weight from her shoulders. The only way she could have felt better was to have said the same words to Zane.

But when Ransom remained quiet for so long on the other end, she asked, "I hope you don't think any less of me, Ran. I wasn't trying to hurt your uncle. I wasn't trying to hurt anyone."

"I know you weren't. I just wish…I just wish things could have turned out differently."

Nova swallowed down a sob. It felt like someone had just closed the lid on her coffin.
Over. The End. Finished.
"Me too," she whispered.

* * * *

Zane was sitting behind his desk between appointments and staring at his wedding band when the first visions struck; he was a detached observer watching the collage of brutal images—people from his past and present converging and separating—until the blast knocked him off his feet.

He bowed over his desk and gasped at the shock of the bullet, searching his brain for a face,
the
face. Nova’s stalker.

There was nothing, no one he recognized, and he was almost relieved that neither Ransom or Nova was in the scene until he realized what this could mean—that both of them might be victims before him, killed by the stalker’s hand.

Was he going to take a bullet meant for Nova or Ransom? Or was the shot meant for him from the very beginning?

“Mr. Youngblood, are you okay?”

Zane jerked his head up to glance at Dora standing on the threshold of the office. “I’m fine, Dora. What’s up?”

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“You’re next appointment is here.”

“I’ll be with him in a minute. Just have him wait outside.”

“Okay.” She paused on her way out, turning back to him. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

He couldn’t even begin to imagine what he must look like to her, how shaken up and pale he must appear to make her ask after him, and he didn’t want to dwell on it and worry her more. “I’m okay, Dora. Could you close the door on your way out?”

“Sure thing, Mr. Youngblood.”

He took a deep breath as the door snicked closed behind his assistant, almost afraid to be alone with his own thoughts.

How did Nova deal with the constant barrage of images?

Zane had only had a few visions—most he hadn’t even recognized as such until now—and he was a basket case from trying to decipher the hidden meanings.

He closed his eyes now to recreate the images, trying to recapture the moment they had started and figure out what had precipitated them. He’d been looking at his ring, thinking how much he missed Sinny’s carefree influence in his life, and how much Nova’s aura had infiltrated his memories of his wife; had replaced them.

Nova was vibrant, spontaneous, courageous, everything Sinny had been, but more, so much more.

God, I’m sorry Sinny.

Zane glanced down at the ring on his finger and thought of all the times he could have taken it off,
should
have take it off. But he hadn't, couldn't find the strength to let go.

He was a widower, his Sinny long gone, all hope for them long expired. There was no reason for him to hold on to her, if only in this small way. But he did—every day he prolonged removing it, every day he remained in denial, making it more difficult to remove the last vestige of his married life.

He remembered the look Nova had given him when she'd seen the ring and asked him if there were a Mrs. Youngblood. Then he remembered when she had fingered the same ring two weeks ago and given him an accusatory look that hit closer to home than he wanted to admit.

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He hadn't been up front with her either, if only by omission. Hadn't he been just as dishonest with her as she'd been with him? He'd been holding onto a dead wife, and she'd been holding onto a forgotten fiancé.

Zane reached down to turn his ring, the weight of it not only pressing against his finger, but heavy in his chest, tightening his throat. He'd had it on so long, he'd forgotten how his finger looked bare, but maybe it was time to find out.