Dark Angel's Ward (8 page)

I answered the question now by forming a mental image of a Louisville Slugger. Right upside the head, baby. Put me out of my misery. As I dozed off, I could have sworn I heard masculine laughter.

Eight

I woke to the sound of a man's voice, too, telling me he saw the world the same way I did, that he knew and understood me. A nice thought. Too bad it was only the lyrics of my favorite song ringing insistently from my cell phone. I caught it just before it could vibrate itself onto the floor and brought it to my ear. "H'lo?"

"Jandra?"

The strained timber of Zeph's voice forced me back to reality. I sat up with a start, and cursed when my chair nearly overturned. "What the hell, Zeph?"

"I need you."

"Of course you do. It's deja vu all over again. Holy shit!" This last exclamation came as I caught sight of the clock and realized I'd been asleep for almost four hours. "Listen, I really don't have time for this...."

"Jandra, you must attend me!"

I scowled into the empty office. "Okay, there are two things wrong with that sentence. One, you don't order me around anymore; and two, I just did attend you. I'm hanging up on you now. We'll talk about it when I get home."

"Don't hang up, please. I swear to you I'm in need. Your neighbors...." He drew a shuddering breath, the sound grating against my eardrum. When he spoke again, his voice had dropped a full octave lower. "There are children playing outside the house. I can hear them."

Shock rippled through me, stealing my breath for a moment. "You son of a bitch," I whispered finally. "Just when I'd started to feel sorry for you...."

"I don't want to hurt them!" he roared, sounding for all the world as appalled as I felt. Surely my emotions couldn't bleed into him over this great a distance, phone connection or none. I could only assume he was being sincere. "Please come home, Jandra," he said again.

"You know, I don't think I've ever heard the word 'please' come out of your mouth before last night," I mused as I gathered up my things and threw them into my purse. "Since you finally asked me nicely, I'm on my way."

"Hurry," he whispered. The line went dead.

"Damn it," I muttered, clicking my phone shut. I was about to toss it in after my keys when a flash caught my eye. The voicemail icon blinked in the corner of its outer display. I hesitated, wondering why this earlier call hadn't woken me.

Curiosity won out. I flipped the phone open again and punched the autodial for my voicemail service. A nasally male voice came on the line. "Good afternoon, Agent Maxwell. This is Agent Weismann responding to your request for an audience...."

Damn it! I'd missed my Society contact! I paced furiously as I listened to the message, committing details to memory: Friday evening, six o'clock, at Ciao Bella, a swanky Italian restaurant uptown. I was to bring Zeph and meet my contact there. The stiff on the phone promised to send someone I'd know on sight.

Wonderful. At least now I knew I'd have Zeph out of my hair by tomorrow night. Maybe that would help me make it through this current crisis without strangling him. I tucked the phone in my back pocket, slung my purse over my shoulder, and hustled out the door, startling the twins as I burst out onto the sales floor.

"Behold, she rises!" Sara declaimed.

Cara snickered. "Did you enjoy your nappies, boss?"

"Not really. Listen, I need to run home for a bit. Sara, you're in charge."

"Ha ha," she chorused in her twin's face.

Cara turned away from her with nose upturned. "What's the matter, anyway?"

"Um, minor emergency," I hedged.

"Oh ho." She turned back around, flashing me a wicked grin. "Would this be a seven-foot tall, stone cold gorgeous type of emergency?"

"More like a major gastric upheaval type of emergency," I lied. When she frowned, I couldn't help but add a taunting, "Want proof?"

"Ick, no! Maybe if you ate solid food once in a while instead living on sugar and caffeine, you wouldn't have these problems."

"I'll keep that in mind, Mommy. Meantime, if anyone calls for me...."

"Jade is on the other line and can't be interrupted," Sara recited by rote--standard protocol for the days I made the Coffee run. "Please leave a message and your call will be returned in the order it was received."

I completed the mantra. "And, when and if I damn well feel like it. Thanks, brats." I didn't wait to hear their replies before making for the back exit.

Afternoon was melting into evening as I sprinted out of the building to my car. I drove home as fast as possible without drawing unwanted police attention. When I turned onto my street, I saw the children immediately--most of the kids in the neighborhood, from the look of it. They were zooming around on their bikes along a self-made racetrack that included my driveway.

A towheaded little boy called out to me as they scattered to make way for the car. "Sorry, Miz Maxwell!"

I smiled at him, a bit surprised they even knew my name. I was so rarely home this time of day that I'd never noticed the kids here before, though I could guess they played here often. It was probably common knowledge that they could gather in this yard without being shooed away by a grouchy adult. If only they knew the real trouble they'd been inviting on this particular day....

I squashed down my disquiet, waving to them as I crossed the porch. But it returned full force when I walked into an oddly quiet house. I'd been expecting Zeph to be hovering in the doorway, pacing like a nervous panther. His absence sent a shiver down my spine. I called out, "Zeph?"

No response. I pulled the front door shut and locked it behind me, venturing further into the living room. "Zeph? Where are you?"

I still didn't hear a reply, but I did hear something else: a high-pitched droning sound coming from the upper floor. That couldn't be good. I dropped my purse and ran up the steps, following the sound to its source--the upstairs bathroom.

I heaved a sigh of relief when I saw it came from nothing more sinister than my hair dryer. It hung from the wall socket by the end of its retractable cord, blasting heated air into the room. Zeph sat hunched on the edge of the bathtub, his head between his knees and his hands clamped over his ears.

"You know, white noise is not the primary function of this device," I groused as I moved to turn the dryer off.

His trembling hands lowered fractionally, but he didn't look at me. "Jandra," he said thickly.

"Yes, I'm here, and the city is safe, and you didn't even burn the house down, thank heaven for small favors." Though I spotted a quarter-sized scorch mark on the wallboard below the socket. I cursed under my breath, running a sleeve across my forehead to wipe away the sheen of sweat that had formed there. It was positively oven-like in here.

I turned on the faucet to wash my hands. Zeph moved behind me, his slow rise reflected in the mirror. His head came up last, and I gasped aloud at the image of his eyes. They burned as bright as heat lightning, the whites and pupils practically obscured by blazing color.

I whirled to face him. "What the hell is wrong with you?"

He didn't answer, but he didn't really have to. The instant our gazes met, a bolt of his energy arced between us, leaving a ghostly afterimage on my retinas. I choked on a cry at the brief jolt and stumbled backward into the vanity.

"Jandra." His voice rang bell-like in my ears.

"No." The word came out as a croak. Between pain and terror, my throat had closed up tight. I'd never seen him like this before, not even at his worst. I squeaked and leapt aside when he reached for me.

"Jandra. I need you."

"No!" I shrieked it this time. When he came toward me again, I shied and made a dash for the door.

My speed was no match for his reach. I'd made it maybe three steps into the hallway when one huge hand clamped onto my shoulder, the other catching my elbow. I screamed again and lunged forward, but only succeeded in losing my balance. He dragged me back against his chest as I fell. We both ended up on our knees. With his arms wrapped around me and his body curled over mine, I was trapped.

"Let me go!" I demanded.

"Take me."

"No!"

Alas, I didn't have much choice in the matter. Sparks raced over my skin everywhere our bodies pressed together, his azoth seeping into me against my will. With a whimper I lurched away one more time, knocking us sideways onto the floor. He shifted one long leg to pin down both of mine. I clawed at the carpet, but got nowhere.

His voice rumbled just above my ear. "Stop it."

"
You
stop! You're scaring me!"

"Jandra." He spoke in a groan, his breath scorching my cheek. "Please."

There was that word again--and more than that, the sentiment behind it. I couldn't shut him out of my mind at this close range, couldn't help but feel his pain as my own, and it finally broke me.

With my resistance gone, his energy raged through me unchecked. Strangely, though, it hurt less than it had the night before. Rather than an electric shock, it felt more like intense heat. Still uncomfortable, but not unbearable. By the time it ended, I felt another twenty degrees hotter than I had in the overheated bathroom.

Then the transfer just...stopped. I hadn't needed to break contact with him to interrupt the flow of power between us. A good thing, too, since he still had me wrapped up just as tightly as before.

"Zeph," I complained, squirming beneath him.

After a moment he shifted his weight, allowing me enough space to turn in his arms. I was grudgingly relieved to see his expression softened into something more normal. His eyes still smoldered, but with a mellow glow.

"You're hurt," he murmured. His fingertips grazed my cheek, and I winced at the small pain of a carpet burn.

"Aw, great. That should look just wonderful in the morning."

"You'll look beautiful. You always do."

"Whatev--oh!" I gasped as he brushed his lips against the scrape. He'd applied no more pressure than with his fingers, but the touch of his mouth had brought that unnatural warmth to the surface of my skin in a burst. "Ow!"

He grunted something that might have been an apology before his lips closed over mine. Heat poured through me, into him, and back again like a circuit. I shrieked a protest into his mouth, lifting us both up off the floor as my spine bowed with the force of it. The violent motion broke the kiss. It also knocked the air from my lungs when I fell back to the floor with his weight still bearing down on me.

"Did you feel that?" he whispered as I struggled to draw a decent breath.

"Obviously," I wheezed. "Now knock it the fuck off."

"It doesn't have to hurt, Jandra." His hands curved over my shoulders--a gentle touch which pinned me down as effectively as force. His star-bright eyes bored into mine. "Stop fighting it. It wasn't painful when you weren't fighting, was it?"

"No." The truth slipped out of my mouth without thought. Had he felt the difference, too? And what could it possibly mean if he had?

I didn't get a chance to ask. He kissed me again, but softly this time. I'd forgotten how soft his lips could be. How warm. Heat began to build between us again, but a much more natural heat this time.

No, no, no. I couldn't let this happen, or I'd be lost. I went limp beneath him. Zeph moaned deep in his throat, taking my stillness as submission. His kisses came faster, firmer, urging me to respond. I did, but mostly I focused on drawing deep, even breaths through my nose. Soon, my head swam with the clean scent of Zeph's skin and the acridity of pheromones. It was like a drug, and fortunately, it had the desired effect. My breathing slowed even as his sped up.

Still, several minutes dragged by before I felt stable enough to move without trembling. My legs were no longer pinned down--I'd brought them up instinctively to cradle his body above mine. Now I bent them up at the knees, placing my feet flat on the floor. He let out another groan as my thighs squeezed against his sides. My body responded to the guttural noise, a shudder of desire coursing through me.

He started to rise up, to say something, but I brought up my hand to tangle in his hair and urged him back down. He acquiesced with a sigh. Good. I braced my right arm against the carpet and rose up to meet him halfway.

He arched his back when our lips met again, bringing his body more fully atop mine. His straining groin slid between my thighs, nestling tight against my core. I threw back my head with a shrill gasp.

"Jandra." His voice had gone gruff with arousal. The sound of it startled me out of my brief stupor, and not a second too soon.

I braced my legs and heaved my body upward again, but on purpose this time. He hadn't been expecting it. When I pushed off the floor with my arm, he flipped off of me and landed hard on his back.

Nine

I scrambled to my feet before he had a chance to recover, glaring down on him. "Hurts, doesn't it?"

"Jandra...why...?"

"Need I remind you again? My body is
not
your plaything." I resisted the urge to punctuate the sentence with my foot in his throat.

He sat up, his eyes intent on my face. After a moment he asked, "Why did you stop?"

"What?"

"Something was happening just now." He rose to his feet, apparently none the worse for wear, and towered over me as usual. "I know you felt it too."

My jaw dropped. "What I
felt
was you tackling me and dragging me across the floor so you could force yourself on me after I told you no! You haven't changed one damn bit, have you?" His mouth opened, but I didn't give him a chance to defend himself. "Well, on second thought, I guess you have. Now you're using brute force instead of mind tricks, but I think I like this better. At least this way I have a fighting chance."

His brows had been lowering into an ever-deepening scowl as I'd raged at him. He didn't argue with me, though. All he said was, "Your wound is gone."

"My what?" My hand flew to my cheek before I could stop myself. Damn it, I couldn't let him distract me! "Like I give a damn?"