In the Dead of Cold (7 page)

There was a knock on the door, and Milo got up and opened it to James.

James nodded in greeting and stepped inside.

“But you’re certain she’s the girl in your dreams?” Graham asked.

Milo nodded. “She even has the same heart-shaped mole on her thigh.”

James laughed heartily. “The girl’s been in your company for an hour, and you’ve already gotten to check out the mole on her thigh? How come I never get a girl like that? Hey, do you have any cookies?”

“Top cabinet shelf. You know where I keep them. Help yourself. Milk and chocolate syrup are in the fridge.”

James moved toward the kitchen.

“So what more can you tell us about her?” Graham asked again.

Milo closed the door and returned to his seat on the sofa. “I can relay to you countless pillow-talk conversations. I can tell you she has an embroidered quilt on her bed and an antique dresser that belonged to her grandmother, but I have no idea where her house is located. In my dreams, we’re either at her house, here, or my cabin in the mountains. We hike through the woods and along a lake’s edge. We paddle the same lake in a canoe or in kayaks. Sometimes we swim. We’ve been to various other unfamiliar places, like shopping malls and campgrounds and hiking trails. But I don’t know why we go to any of those places at any particular night.”

Graham looked at him as if he studied a specimen under a microscope. “Tell me about the dreams.”

They were so personal, so strong, so real. Milo felt as if he would be giving away a part of himself if he told. Yet, there was no denying his boss, the man he owed his life.

Again, he shrugged as if his nighttime ventures with Jane were nothing more than worthless passing thoughts. “We make love. We talk. She likes to light a lot of candles.” In the fantasies they shared, there were several candles in his room. Right now, there were none. Milo was certain that would change soon.

“What do you talk about?” That question came from Drew.

Milo shook his head. “Everything and nothing important. She told me about her favorite movies, her favorite books. She loves sausage and French toast for breakfast. She also loves peanut butter but hates peanuts. She’d rather have tea than anything with alcohol. She believes her date should bring her flowers.”

“Have you brought her flowers?” Zack piped in.

“Yes, I have—her favorite, gardenias.” Milo leaned over, rested his elbow on the arm of the sofa, and held his chin in his hand.

Graham took a slow drink of his wine. “Do you know what she does for a living?”

James came back into the living room with a tall glass of chocolate milk and the entire package of cookies. He sat on the sofa next to Milo and popped a cookie into his mouth.

Milo paused and thought for a long moment. “No, I have no idea. Now that I think about it, neither of us has ever talked about work.” He didn’t add the fact that almost everything they did in their dreams led to them making love, sometimes hot and fast and other times slow and searching. He supposed that work and making love didn’t mix.

“She travels and does a magic act, pretty big magic act, as a matter of fact. She’s Miss Magic. She just finished a tour in Vegas.”

Milo stared at Graham. “I never knew that—never recognized her as that.”

Graham grinned. “You might not have been able to find her, but Drew did. So she touched you, and she knew about me.”

Milo had to clear his throat. “Whatever I was doing for you at that moment, it was something strong enough that you filled my thoughts. So when she bumped into me, she knew about me, what I did, and you. And I’ve tried everything to get her out of my dreams.”

“Like what?” Drew asked.

“Like I tried to sleep with Daphne Mills.”

The room was silent for a long moment.

Drew stared at him. “That raven-haired, horny witch who runs the Old Wooden Mill Restaurant in town who tries to sit on every man’s lap?”

Milo nodded. “Yes, that one.”

“What happened?” Zack stopped typing to ask.

“Nothing. That’s just it. The longer I was there with her, the sicker I felt. Her kiss made me feel dirty. All I could think about was all the other places her mouth had been. I closed my eyes and tried to pretend it was Jane, but I couldn’t. Daphne offered me a diamond-shaped blue pill and told me I needed to consult a doctor, since things weren’t working as she thought they should be. Since then, I’ve tried to screw three other women—beautiful, experienced, know-how-to-make-a-man-feel-special women. It’s like someone turned off the water. My dick doesn’t work until I’m asleep and in Jane’s arms. In our dreams, I told her about all these women, about how I tried to screw them. She laughed and said that was because I was meant for her.” His explanation was just the tip of the iceberg of his experience in how he’d tried to get over Jane by fucking other women. And failed.

“You poor guy,” said Drew.

“What torture,” added Zack.

“Daphne Mills? Gag,” James put in.

“Do you think she’s dreaming about you right now?” Zack asked.

“I doubt it. Whenever I’ve slept and not dreamed of her, I’ve found out later when we’re together that she wasn’t sleeping at the same time I was.”

“Does she have a sister?” James wondered.

“If she did, I wouldn’t introduce her to you. You eat too much,” Milo teased. It didn’t stop James from popping another cookie into his mouth.

Graham set his wineglass on the coffee table with a slight
thunk
. “Did you know about her abilities?”

Milo shook his head. “We’ve talked about a lot of things during our nightly escapades, but she never mentioned them, and I had no idea. But now that I think about it, I never talked to her about my abilities or what I am either. Our dreams are nothing more than fun, allowing no room for reality.”

Graham watched him.

“So what have we done so far?” Milo asked.

“We’ve doubled our guard around the perimeter of the Moonlight,” Graham informed him.

“Next we need to find out how Bart managed to slip through our defenses and get close without being detected. What else would you have us do, sir?” Milo hated the uncertainty, hated even more that Bart had managed to get close—with Milo as head of security yet.

Graham leaned forward on his elbows with his fingers steepled beneath his chin. “I want Drew and Zack to stay on the computer and see what we can find on him. Why is he even here, when we haven’t heard anything from him in years?” He paused and looked around. “Gentlemen, please attend your posts and excuse Milo and me.”

Drew, Zack, and James stood and headed for the door. Milo saw James eye the package of cookies. “Take them with you,” he offered.

“I’ll just take one for the road and be back for more some other time.”

A moment later, Milo and Graham were alone in the room.

“You observed my wife in the bookstore sometime last week.”

It wasn’t a question—especially since he’d been instructed to do so by the man sitting before him—but Milo replied anyway. “Yes, sir.” Milo thought he knew where Graham was going, but wasn’t sure. No one he knew was more devoted or straight-forward than Ella Masterson. She looked at Graham with love in her eyes. She was the sort of woman where, if she didn’t want him anymore, she’d tell him.

“Was she looking for someone?”

“I’m not sure she noticed anyone.”

“What do you mean?”

“She seemed distracted. She looked at books but never picked one up. She walked around the store.” Milo cleared his throat. “Do you think she planned to meet Bart at the bookstore?”

“I don’t know. I do know it’s a coincidence that she planned to go to the bookstore again, and this time, Bart was there. Ella just happened not to be.”

“Have you tried talking to her, sir?”

“Yes, but she avoids my questions, says she needs her space, which is why putting her under guard seems ironic and the last thing I want to do.” His gaze met Milo’s. “And I’m not lying when I say her odd behavior worries me.”

Milo understood. Mrs. M. was a strong woman, had been for many years. Graham loved her, cherished her. Her apparent absentminded behavior was out of character. “What would you like me to do?”

“For now, I’m putting Jacob in charge of resort security.”

Milo looked down but said nothing.

“This isn’t a punishment, Milo. You’ve done nothing wrong. I want you in charge of the woman in your bedroom. She may have answers she doesn’t know she has, so I want you to be with her every moment. In the meantime, I’m going to make a few contacts of my own and find out if anyone knows anything about Bart or his plans.” He leaned back on the sofa as if he were about to stand, but then didn’t. “There’s one more thing you need to know.”

And Milo was certain it was going to be something not good. “Yes?”

“At the bookstore, James found things as Ms. Smyth said—the rods from the cart, one still embedded in the bricks of the building. James was amazed at her level of energy. But there was more.”

“You and I both know there was more. She didn’t tell us everything she encountered with Bart.”

“I don’t know what else she didn’t tell us, but her blood was there on the bricks and on the ground.”

“I’m not surprised. She’s scraped from her head to her knees.” Graham stared at him for a long moment, long enough to send a shiver through him.

“If James could find her blood, I’m sure Bart found it before it dried or froze.”

Milo’s heart raced. “Damn.”

“That’s right. All he needs is one drop, and he can control her thoughts and her actions. He would know everything about her.”

Oh hell.
Milo had seen her injuries, had cleaned and applied antibiotic ointment to them, and hadn’t thought about how they might have bled or what Bart could do if he tasted any of Jane’s blood. A vampire didn’t need to bite into a person’s neck to gain control. Milo sucked in a much-needed breath and wished for a second shot of scotch.

Graham unfolded himself from the sofa and stood. “So your job now is to stay with her every moment. Be careful what you say and do. If Bart gained control of her, he’ll see everything through her eyes. He’ll hear everything you say. And he’ll be able to use her to kill you or any or all of us.”

Perhaps Milo should have killed her in Mr. M.’s office as he had threatened to do, because being in Bart’s control would be worse than death for her if Milo wasn’t able regain control from him. Allowing her to be Bart’s seeing-eye dog was as much a threat to Mr. M. and his men as if she’d walked into Mr. M.’s office with a flamethrower. Milo might still have to kill her after all. The thought caught in his chest. He couldn’t kill her, not without cutting out his own heart.

Graham moved to the door. “I’ll keep you posted.”

Milo nodded. A moment later, the door closed behind Graham. Milo moved to the bedroom.

Jane’s face was relaxed and beautiful as she slept. She rested on her side, curled into a ball with one hand under her cheek. How innocent she looked. And she was innocent. She thought she’d been able to escape Bart. She thought she knew enough about Bart, and she had known enough to come seeking help and protection from Mr. M. But she didn’t know the half of it.

Milo needed her to trust him. He also needed answers. As he knew there was only one way to get her out of Bart’s control, he also knew there was one way to get the answers he sought. He wasn’t about to leave her to get her suitcase from her car, so he found a sweatshirt and pants that tied for her and set them on a nearby chair. He stripped off his clothes, his gaze never leaving her. He climbed into bed beside her and moved up against her warmth. In her sleep, she molded herself to him like a spoon. He closed his eyes and drifted away to join her in dreamland.

Chapter Four

“I wondered when you’d get here. It took you long enough.”

Jane sat on a plaid blanket atop a glorious mountain peak, a place they’d never been before. The view was breathtaking. In the valley below was a small village, complete with smoke coming from the chimneys and people in bright clothes milling about the narrow streets. Beside her were a picnic basket and the book she’d been reading. She wore a lovely flowered sundress, her slim shoulders bare to the kiss of the warm sunshine.

“Why did you dream us up here?”

She smiled up at him. “It’s safe up here.” She looked around. “There’s no way to get here without us seeing.”

“Who do you think could get here?”

“You know who. I don’t want to say his name. I don’t want to bring the reality of him and his terror to this beautiful place.”

Yes, he knew who. Bart. “Do you really think he could find us here?”

“We found our way here. Why couldn’t he?”

“That’s a good question, since neither of us knows how we always manage to find one another.”

Her smile grew. “I was tempted to break open the champagne and drink it without you.”

Milo drew closer and knelt down on the blanket close to her. “Champagne? I didn’t think you drank.”

“I would rather have some flavored tea, but I thought we should celebrate the fact that we’ve met—that we can touch each other.”

“You knew I existed. I didn’t remember touching you, but you knew when you touched me that I existed. Why were you afraid to find me before now?”

“I didn’t know your name. But I knew you worked for Mr. Masterson.” She smiled at him.

He didn’t know why she avoided his question, but he didn’t push her. He was going to have to get his answers another way. “Do you ever stay at his resorts?”

“Yes, sometimes. But I never saw you again, and I didn’t know your name.”

She pulled out a cold bottle and popped off the cork. She poured two glasses, spilling a little and giggling over it before she handed him one. Then she touched her glass to his with a
clink
that echoed. She sipped and giggled some more.

“Oh, so bubbly!”

“Delicious.” He sat all the way down and took her hand in his. His questions were bound to put distance between them. Perhaps if he held on to her, he could avoid that. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Tell you what?”

“What you could do, by thinking it—that you could move things, shove people? Or that you could read the thoughts of others?”