Cunningham, Pat - Legacy [Sequel to Belonging] (Siren Publishing Ménage Amour) (6 page)

The toilet flushed, and the door opened. Jeremy stepped into the hall. This time he paused before her door. She watched the knob intently, convinced it would turn at any second. Her imagination saw him as if with X-ray vision. He stood there with one hand poised to knock and the other resting on the knob. Colleen drew in a long, anticipatory breath. He would ask, and she’d invite him in. He’d slide in beside her and they would—

But he didn’t, and she didn’t, and they wouldn’t. The knob remained still, and the knock never sounded. Jeremy stepped away from the door. The couch creaked fatalistically at the return of his body. Colleen rolled over and pulled the covers over her head.

She got up only once, about a half hour later, to have a look at the street. Of course there was nobody out there. She thought she caught a glimpse of a blur, but it vanished between blinks. Great. She was so keyed up, she was seeing things. Trapped in her own apartment with a drool-worthy hunk on her couch and no chance at all anything would happen. Norelle would rip her a whole slew of new ones for this.

Colleen crawled back into bed. She tried to slow her racing thoughts by planning out tomorrow’s activities. Maybe a new route for the students’ daily walk. Give the kids new things to look at. Shake things up a bit. She snorted nervously under her breath. Upend the normal routine. Like now. Yeah, that always worked.

Somewhere between route considerations and a mental inventory of arts and crafts supplies, she must have dozed off, because she wasn’t a prisoner in her own bedroom anymore. Trees replaced walls. The scent of real pine overwhelmed the artificial tang of air freshener and furniture wax. A cool breeze stirred her hair.

She was back in the Woods and the Waters. She was home.

And
he
was there—not Jeremy, but a man who moved in the same manner, with a swift, ethereal grace. His red eyes beckoned to her. He held out his hand. “Come, pretty. You don’t belong with them. Come to us. Come home.”

She wanted to. Oh, how she wanted to. However, her feet slogged as if through deep mud in spite of her eager efforts. Strive as she would, she couldn’t reach him.

Some dim part of her screamed and thrashed like a panicked animal caught in a net. His oily voice overrode it. “Forget them, pretty. They’re beneath you. Come back to us, where you belong. Come now.”

The part of her enthralled by the voice struggled to obey. The rest of her just struggled. The wall she’d so studiously built between herself and her childhood threatened to crumble, sabotaged by whispered words in a slick, compelling voice. Colleen thrust them away, and abruptly thrust herself awake.

She wasn’t in bed anymore. Somehow she’d ended up in the living room, in Jeremy’s arms. Yet the voice persisted, like an oily, silken chain on her mind. It dragged at her, ordering her out the door, down the steps, into the street toward whatever awaited. Except she couldn’t go to it because Jeremy held her tight.

“Let me go.” She struggled peevishly, halfheartedly. She wanted to obey the voice. She wanted to run from it in panic. At the moment, she couldn’t do a damn thing either way because this enormous human lout wouldn’t let her go. She hissed up at him like an animal. “I want to go home. I have to go home.”

“Shhh, it’s okay. You’ll be okay. Hold on.”

Colleen lunged her mouth at his throat. Unable to reach it, she sank her teeth into his arm, right on the scarecrow tattoo. The bastard didn’t even flinch. He kept up his insipid monologue while the real voice, the only voice that mattered, upped its demands for obedience. It tore at her head like talons, like fangs. She screamed her frustration, unable to comply.

Then the voice cut off abruptly, as if sliced by an axe. Colleen lurched at the sudden shock of its loss. She sagged, disoriented. Had Jeremy not been holding her, she would have hit the floor.

Gradually, awareness crept back in. Somewhat ashamed, Colleen opened her eyes. Oh God, it hadn’t been a dream. She really was in her living room, barefoot on the shag rug, with only her cotton nightie between her and Jeremy’s naked chest. He had his arms wound around her, but not so tightly now. Several kinds of shivers danced along her skin. She clung to the arms she’d recently fought against and pressed her back against his rock-solid support.

The voice had vanished entirely. Not even echoes remained.

“Wha—” she squeaked. Even on a second try her words still came out scratchy. “What happened? Was I sleepwalking? I think I had a nightmare.”

“Something like that.” He didn’t let her go. “It’s over now. You’re going to be okay.”

“I was home,” she chattered. “In the commune. He wanted me to come home. He kept calling and calling, and I couldn’t get to him.” Her roaming gaze found the teeth marks on Jeremy’s bicep. “Oh my God. Did I bite you?”

He chuckled softly. “You call that a bite? You didn’t even break the skin. Do you want to sit down?”

She’d like to have a good collapse and maybe a bit of a cry, but
sit down
sounded fine. Colleen allowed Jeremy to half-carry her to the couch. He sat beside her with his arms around her while the aftereffect shudders worked their way out of her system. This time she let herself take full advantage of his proximity. She desperately needed his warmth. That voice had been so cold, as frigid as death itself.

“I don’t get it,” she said. “I’ve had nightmares before, but I never sleepwalk. That voice just seemed so real.”

Jeremy nodded. No empty dismissals, no pithy platitudes. He regarded her as if he believed her. “Was that the voice you heard this afternoon?”

“Yes.” The admission sparked a fresh wave of shudders. “You must think I’m nuts.”

“You’re not crazy. I heard it, too. Not words, not the way I’m sure you did, but I got the gist of it.”

She searched his eyes for lies and found only earnest belief. “You heard him? Are you psychic, too?”

“You’re psychic? Wow. That explains a lot. No, I’m not, but I’ve had a lot of experience with his kind. I’m kind of attuned to it.”

Attuned to telepathic stalkers? Just who was this guy? Colleen shoved that aside for a later date. “Who was he? How did he do that? What did he want with me?”

“It doesn’t matter. He’s gone and he won’t be back.” He shot a glance toward the door. “I need to go outside for a minute. I want to check on Wallace. Will you be okay?”

No. Without his arms to buoy her, she feared she’d collapse into a shuddering wreck. However, she made herself nod. “Go ahead. Just hurry back, okay?”

He gave her shoulders a squeeze, pecked a sudden kiss on her lips, and was up and out the door before she could register surprise. Had he just kissed her? On the mouth? It had been so quick and brotherly, but still. She wondered if he even knew he’d done it.

Now that she was alone again, the distress alleviated by Jeremy’s presence returned with a vengeance. It hadn’t been a nightmare. The voice in her head had been real. Jeremy believed her. Why? Why didn’t he think she was nutty like her mom? What did he know about these people and their oily mental voices that he refused to share? Did he think she was too fragile to handle the truth?

Ah, anger. So much more comforting than terror. Colleen breathed in steady pants and let it have free rein. Some psycho had just attacked her mind. She deserved full disclosure. But mostly, she just didn’t want to shiver on the couch all by herself.

Her colliding emotions galvanized her off the couch, out of the apartment, and down the stairwell. She slowed to a stealthy creep as she neared the open door at the bottom. Jeremy’s voice reached her clearly from the parking lot, roughened by concern.

“…close call. You got him?”

“Hell yeah. I think you’re standing in him. Shit. He splattered on my shirt. This’ll be a bitch to get out.”

That voice. Coarse as gravel, reeking of testosterone. This voice rang in her ears, not her head, and sent a whole different set of shivers racing down her spine.

That had to be Wallace. Jeremy’s lover. With her own feelings for Jeremy knotting her gut, she wasn’t sure she was ready to face the man who’d already won his heart. Frozen by indecision, she remained inside the doorway.

“Did you get a chance to question him?” Jeremy said.

“’Fraid not. Things happened pretty quick. He wasn’t the talkative type anyway.” Wallace made a gagging noise. “Now I’ve got this awful taste in my mouth. Jesus. Who the hell did he have for dinner?”

She heard censure in Jeremy’s voice. “You didn’t.”

“I did. I’m not turning down a free meal. Wish I could’ve saved some for later. I hate it when they won’t hold still.”

“As long as you didn’t take too much. After last time—”

“C’mon, Scarecrow. You know I know better.” A seductive purr sent his tone lower still and shivered a thrill down her back. “Why? You hoping for a little action?”

Jeremy’s answering laugh held the same throaty purr. “You’re unbelievable.”

Both voices stopped. The sounds that took their place made Colleen feel guilty for standing there like some Peeping Tina. If she wasn’t going to reveal herself, she should at least go back to the apartment and give them privacy. She inched back up the stairs.

Wallace’s voice halted her. “The chick okay?”

“Her name’s Colleen. She’s pretty shaken up. I should get back to her.”

“No need. She’s right there by the door. C’mon out here, sweetheart. Let’s have a look at you.”

Come out? Where the oily voice and its owner waited? But he didn’t wait out there anymore, did he?

It hit her like a sudden blow, what Wallace must have done, why she was hearing his voice and not that other now. She scrambled up the steps.

Wallace’s callous laughter pursued her. “Nice meeting you.”

Colleen burst into the living room and reached the couch before it occurred to her to shut the door. Too late. Jeremy had already scaled the stairs. He shut the door himself with a gentle click. “Don’t mind him. He’s not really as big of a jerk as he acts sometimes. Do you want to meet him? I’ll stand between the two of you if you think it’ll help.”

She shook her head violently. Her earlier panic had returned for a new and different reason. Jeremy crossed to the couch and knelt before her. She flinched away from him.

He frowned. “What is it? Not more voices?”

“That man outside,” she said. “The stalker. Wallace killed him, didn’t he?”

Jeremy’s friendly face shut down. “You’re safe now. He won’t bother you again.”

“He did. He just murdered somebody.”

His eyes refused to lie to her, as badly she wanted them to. “It’s what he does. It’s the only way to stop that man’s kind. He would have done worse than kill you. I can guarantee he’s killed others. I’m not happy either, but it was him or you.” Jeremy climbed to his feet. “We’re going to stick around for the rest of the night, just to play it safe. Wallace can stay outside if it’ll make you feel better.”

Colleen didn’t anticipate feeling better any time in the next century. She knew beyond certainty Jeremy would never hurt her. The one downstairs, however, was a whole other horror story.

“He didn’t have to kill him,” she muttered. “Just hold him for the cops, or scare him off or something.” She bounded up. “I’m calling the police.”

Jeremy caught her arm. “Don’t bother.”

“Don’t bother? There’s a body out there!”

“No, there isn’t. It’s been taken care of.”

She gaped at him. Already? That was quick. Quick and efficient. Jeremy had never said straight-out what Wallace did for a living. What had she gotten herself tangled up in?

She opened her mouth to demand a straight answer and noticed something she hadn’t before. Her heart seized up.

“Blood,” she blurted.