Dream Shadow (18 page)

The rage she turned on him caught Brice off-guard. He stumbled as she slipped out of his grasp. Light as a doe, she sprang down the steps of his porch. Throwing his body over the railing, Brice landed a single step in front of her. Her eyes stared completely through him. But the bright red blood seeping into her shirt captured his complete attention.

Psychic or not, the human body still had basic needs. Planting both feet solidly on the ground, Brice swung her up against his chest. He took his porch steps three at a time and stumbled through the back door before his captive ceased her fight.

“Grace?” Brice intended to set her back on her feet. Instead, she stumbled as her legs refused to accept her body weight. Her eyes stared right through him as he caught her wrists to prevent her from ending sprawled across his living room floor.

“She won’t answer you, Brice.” Jacobs issued his conclusion a second before Grace aimed a brutal shove at his supporting arms.

“Back away, Brice. She linked into something. You’re lucky you didn’t get locked in the current with her.”

“I didn’t get what?”

“It can happen. Stop talking, let her concentrate. Maybe we’ll have an end to this at last.”

Nodding his head, Brice backed away but placed himself in the open doorway. Witnessing the intensity of her abilities brought him an understanding of just why she would have gone after Paige without a care for backup. The woman wasn’t even aware she was bleeding, much less that she needed an escort. Her eyes reflected nothing but burning intent.

Grace’s head was pounding. She pushed the pain away. It was here. The answer was right here. All she had to do was look at it. She could see the words on the page but they were blurred and her mind refused to bring them into focus. Her body was interfering with its pain. With the discipline of years, she tried to force it aside. It stubbornly resisted her efforts. She rounded on the doorway that led back to the porch. She reached out to feel it. The echo of anger was thick. She stepped closer and the anger built inside her body. Just like any moth, Grace found herself being summoned by the burning flame. Logic intruded, demanding that she break the hold. Wrenching her body back, she fell across the living room floor.

Forcing herself to get on her feet, she felt the vortex recede and vanish.

No!

She wanted the answer. Nothing but emptiness remained. Instead, as her mind’s vision faded her eyes caught sight of Brice’s intense scrutiny. Had he been watching her the whole time? Her side was burning as fatigue caught her in its claws. She really shouldn’t be so tired. Looking into those brown eyes, she tried to form a question from her exhausted brain.

“I’m sorry.” Every bit of color drained from her face just like the sand did in an hourglass.

“Jesus!” The curse came out of Brice’s mouth as he jumped forward to catch her collapsing body. Limp as a rag doll, she folded into his embrace without a single ounce of resistance.

Settling her body back onto the guestroom bed resembled arranging a stone effigy too closely for his taste. Brice considered the pasty white cast of her skin before he attended to the task of cleaning her stitches. The slightest scuff on the wooden planking told him Jacobs was in the room as well. The major reached for Grace’s ankle. The slim black cuff he left behind caused Brice to raise a calculated look at him.

“What’s happening to her?”

“I wish I knew, Brice.” Jacobs’s face was covered in concern as his gaze moved to the tracking unit he’d secured to her slim ankle. His hand clenched the control unit that would receive any signals transmitted from the unit.

“Just what does that mean?”

“You asked for a psychic, Sheriff. No one promised you answers. Just the kid.”

Jacobs turned on his heel and left. Brice caught him as the man stepped back out onto the porch. “Is this why you never let her finish investigations? It drives her insane?”

“Partly.” Casting a sidelong look at Brice, Jacobs returned the man’s probing stare. “She’s practically perfect when it comes to tracking. That effectiveness drops when she gets to the investigating end of the case.”

“But the cost is rather high for her.”

“Exactly.” Jacobs stuck his finger out at him. “Which is why I don’t let every law man from here to China run her to exhaustion. We get the prize and they have to figure out the details on their own.”

“I take it not all of her C.O.s have held that same consideration?”

“Grace wouldn’t have survived this long if she’d been allowed to be weak.” Jacobs raised a hand to rub over his jaw. “But you’ve got far too much insight. I change what I can, when I can.”

Jacobs headed down the steps and into the forest. Brice followed him.

“What would have gotten her attention so badly?”

Jacobs shrugged. “Like I told you, Brice, I don’t let her waste her time on investigations. My C.O. wants her fit for duty.”

“Your C.O. thinks about her like she is a machine.” Brice knelt down to inspect a set of fresh tracks.

Lifting his gaze, Brice found one of the Rangers concealed in the rocks just a hundred yards ahead of him. His fingers flexed slightly as he committed the man’s face to memory. The man knew something. Brice didn’t have Grace’s psychic abilities but his gut told him not to turn his back.

Grace sat up almost the same second that her eyes opened. The pre-dawn sky had yet to display the first rays of morning, but the darkness was receding as she watched. She swung her feet over the edge of the bed to the floor, wincing a bit as her side ached from the sudden movement.

Her boots were missing. Looking along the side of her bed once again, Grace ground her teeth together. Her boots were usually either on her feet or neatly lined up within arm’s reach. If they were missing, it was no mistake. But the black ankle band was strapped to her right foot. Grace glared at the thing as memories of Major Fredricks surfaced in her head. That C.O. had delighted in shackling her like an animal.

Grace was flatly sick of it. Everything. Her life was a cage and she was becoming more and more aware of the steel bars that imprisoned her.

Padding through the silent house, she made her way out the back door. The night’s chill hit her bare arms, but she welcomed the confirmation that she was no longer separated from the forest by manmade walls. But she was confined to the structure without her boots. Annoyance burned away the last of her slumber. There were few enough things she enjoyed. Being denied walking really made her mad.

Yet there was something about the house that just breathed life. Grace actually found herself at ease within the structure. Running her hand over the doorway, she brushed its smooth texture. While built of the most basic of materials, nothing was rustic.

“I hope it meets with your approval.”

Of course she wasn’t alone. The second she moved the black monitor strapped to her ankle had dully reported it to the base unit. But it was a surprise to see the black wristband on Brice.

That was a mark of trust from Jacobs.

Her gaze wandered over him in blatant curiosity. Instead of the pristine picture he normally presented, his hair was tousled and his blue jeans rode rather low on his hips. Slightly rumpled, his unbuttoned shirt betrayed the fact that he had slept in it. There was something very basic about waking this man from his sleep. Despite the fact that it had been an electronic device that had roused him, Grace found herself feeling very much like she’d disturbed him in his bed. Heat stung her cheeks as she moved her eyes back up to his face.

“You built this house.”

“That explains a lot,” she remarked.

“Why?”

Looking back at him, Grace was relieved to discover that curiosity had replaced the predatory look in his eyes. She was grateful for the change, but it didn’t come free. It was going to cost her an explanation.

“Every corner has something of your personality in it. The need that drove you is still lingering.”

Her statement was designed to expose him just as he was exposing her. The dangerous glint that crept into his eyes made her wish that she’d left the matter alone. The man that stood in front of her now was furious at having been unmasked. Forcing herself to hold his gaze, she watched as the emotion surged across its depths.

Slowly nodding his head, Brice returned her look. “I guess inviting a psychic into my house was bound to have some unexpected results.”

“I can’t change what I am. You wondered why I avoid people. It’s simple really.”

“You make them nervous,” he observed.

“Some missions take a little more R and R to leave behind. This was my personal little therapy project.”

Grace nodded in understanding. The scars that some missions left had to be sterilized or they would leak poison for a lifetime. Lifting her hand from the doorframe, she moved it over the side of his face, looking for the man that he had become.

Each fingertip made itself felt. Brice stared in fascination as he felt her searching through his mind. It wasn’t an act of invasion. Instead, they met each other someplace where words held little meaning.

Reaching up, Grace touched her lips to his, completing the intimacy. She had never felt as complete with any other soul as she did at that moment.

Opening her eyes, she looked into the eyes of a man who very much considered her his prey. Dropping her defenses was being interpreted as surrender. Stepping back, she slid her walls into place.

“Come back here.” He issued the words in a low rumble.

Grace stared into eyes that were sharpening into a razor edge. The strange thing about it was she liked the sound of his command. Because her body liked the feel of his and her memory was crystal clear. His male scent drifted up to trigger sensations that raced across her skin. He shifted and lifted one huge arm toward her with his palm turned up. The invitation was tempting.

“I shouldn’t have kissed you.”

She shifted her feet nervously. Arousal was an unruly demon and it was striking through her.

“I didn’t mind. In fact, I’d like you to try it again.”

“Such recklessness would bring nothing but grief.”

Pushing away from the doorway, Brice stepped forward and wrapped his hand around the back of her head. Angling her face up, he locked gazes with her. “Some things happen whether you want them to or not.” Dropping his mouth onto hers, he applied gentle pressure to her startled lips. “Stop running, Grace. If all we have is the moment, let’s not waste it.”

He stepped back. “Let’s go inside.”

She wanted to…

Grace turned her back on his invitation, intending to walk off her frustration before she remembered she was barefoot. She whipped back around and glared at Brice. “Where are my boots?”

His lips turned up and parted to flash her a wide smile. “Right where I put them. Next to my bed.” He opened up his hand to reveal one of her hairpins. Brice held it steady between his thumb and first finger before he very deliberately tossed it over the porch railing.

“Don’t be so proud of yourself, Sheriff.”

But he was, and something else glittered in his eyes. It was a challenge, pure and simple.

“Don’t be so worried about stepping into my bedroom. Unless you doubt that herculean self-control of yours. I’m just a man.”

No, he was more, because no other man could make her feel like he did.

She couldn’t get that close to him right now. Not close enough to smell that warm male skin or she’d melt again. Her body was still trembling from his last kiss.

“You’re more.”

And she had no idea how to deal with it. But his eyes lit with enjoyment, sending a warm rush of happiness through her. For just a moment, she savored the sensation before walking away.

Brice settled his hands onto his belt and gripped it hard. It wasn’t what he wanted to do, but trust was something that took time to grow.

“You’re more.”

As far as declarations went, it was simple and yet more intense than anything he’d ever heard a woman say to him. But it also made him more aware of the clock ticking away in the background. Counting off their remaining moments together like the sands flowing through an hourglass. He wanted to flip the glass onto its side but couldn’t figure out how to reach it.

But it wasn’t the first challenge he’d had to work to achieve. Even if it felt like the most import one. Impossible had never been in his vocabulary.

He wasn’t going to let Grace introduce it either.

Brice was waiting for her.

The knowledge was both frustrating and exciting. She watched him, trying to decide what to do. The power of choice was impossible to dismiss.

“If all we have is the moment, let’s not waste it.”

He was right. There was no further resistance inside her to that fact. She admitted it freely. What she was stuck on was deciding what action to take. But that dilemma wasn’t confined to her host. With the wound in her side itching as it healed, she discovered herself restless with the urge to unravel the current case. She waited until dark before seeking Brice out. He was cleaning his gun with Jacobs keeping him company.