The Yearning (18 page)

He nodded and left, closing the door behind himself.

Mike held his breath, listening to Ben move down the hall. He counted off a minute, then two. The silence held. No one came this way. His eyes darted to the bath. He reminded himself that someone could enter from it. He had to be careful. Taking a moment to prepare himself, he regarded the room. Long shadows flowed from the cheval mirror and dresser, tracking the sun’s descent. Clouds from earlier had evaporated or scattered, leaving a slice of Wedgewood-blue sky just below the filmy curtain.

He cautioned himself to start small. His sprinting pulse said no, bad idea. Jasmine’s condition deteriorated by the second. Ben wanted to play it too safe, wasting precious time to go to an Internet café, which added another delay. And there was Violet and Lily. Who knew when they’d come into the room to check up on or feed him? What if they saw his power before he could free himself?

What if his gift didn’t return?

The cuff hung heavy on his wrist, deriding him.

He stared at the figurines on the nightstand. Their empty gazes also taunted, saying his mind wouldn’t be able to move or lift them. The curse would consume Jasmine. She’d seek relief until she collapsed and died.

No. Stop it. He ran his tongue over his lips and looked for the smallest figurine, the easiest for him to manipulate. In front of it lay the belly chain Jasmine wore their first night. He studied the links, his attention catching on the dangling diamonds.

Estimating their weight, his scrutiny went to the shortest strand. He centered his thoughts on it. Nothing happened. He tried harder. A muscle in his neck pinched, sending a burst of agony down his arm. Teeth gritted, he endured it while willing the diamonds to move. They didn’t. The sounds of his labored breathing, the outside breeze and the air-conditioning distracted him further. He held his breath. His lungs started to burn. The corners of his vision faded until he saw only the jewelry, the gems’ glint and cut, their clarity, the mountings.

The sibilant buzz, familiar and welcome, surrounded him. His scalp tingled, the hairs on his forearms rose.

His power hadn’t vanished.

Neither had Tommy. The man’s face loomed before him, bewildered and terrified. In his mind, Mike saw the bloody froth at the corners of Tommy’s mouth, the spreading stain on his shirt, his hollow gaze.

The buzz faltered, drifting away. Other noises intruded, a bird’s chirp, the steady drip of water.

Gut clenching, he heard Jasmine’s earlier words. “You have to forgive yourself.” Tears stung his eyes. What if he couldn’t? Shit. If anything more happened to her, how could he forgive himself then? Hadn’t she suffered enough for a supposed crime she hadn’t even committed?

He saw her as she’d been when he’d come into the bath, her palms pressed to the tile, body wilted, head lowered. He recalled her limbs dangling inertly over Ben’s arms as he carried her from the room. He heard her saying the words she’d come to believe. “I want time I don’t have.”

He blinked repeatedly, but his eyes kept filling, making the diamonds shimmy. He swiped at the tears to clear his vision. The jewels moved again.

His heart snagged on the next beat. He stared. Had the movement been in his sight only or had the diamonds actually shifted over the wood?

Scared to trust what he hoped he’d seen, he fixed his attention on the strand, while more images unwound in his mind. Jasmine approaching him in the bar, a smile on her face, terror in her eyes. Her distress in the alley when he’d asked if someone had raped her. Lust flaring in her eyes as he awakened to see her watching him. Hair stuck to her cheeks in the shower, her eyes slitted, her body too weary.

The buzz returned, its intensity vacillating like a car radio trying to regain its signal.

He didn’t move, refused to breathe. The last diamond in the strand shifted to the right and ascended, mimicking a cobra’s move as the serpent’s about to strike. The rest of the diamonds followed. They hovered above the wood, creating a faint reflection on the polished surface before dropping back down.

His head fell forward. A savage headache spread across the back of his skull. Spasms gripped his neck and shoulders, the same as those times he’d worked out in the gym too long. He felt like shit and couldn’t stop smiling. His power had returned.

It was far from useful. He didn’t have weeks to get it back into shape to turn the handcuff’s lock or failing that, pull the metal rings apart. He might not even have days to exercise it.

Still winded, he disregarded his body’s complaints and looked at the hour hand on his watch, determined to move it, to perfect his talent, to welcome it for the first time and grow strong.

Violet closed the refrigerator door and backed up double-time. Her shoulder bumped the appliance. “Oh my God. What are you doing down here?”

Jasmine filled a glass at the sink and drank all the water in one long gulp. She ran the back of her hand over her mouth to dry it. “I was thirsty.”

Her sister didn’t ask why she hadn’t used the faucets upstairs.

She’d wanted to and tried the door leading into her bath, finding it locked, the door to her bedroom closed. More agitated than an addict, she’d burned to rejoin Mike. His need to rest was the only thing protecting him from her. She’d come down here to put as must distance between them as possible. “Do you have any flan left?”

“Sure. I’ll get it and an enchilada for you. Go on, sit down.”

The backs of her legs bounced on the chair. She wrapped her robe tightly around her thighs. “Where’s Lil and Ben?”

“We had some deliveries to make, so Lil said she’d go.”

Jasmine drummed her nails on the table’s glass top. Violet’s hand paused on the Tupperware, her voice shaky. “Is it getting bad again?”

Far more than in times past. Lust used to dominate. Her growing love for Mike exacerbated it. She could only presume this was how Desiree felt about Connor. A rapturous hell Jasmine couldn’t bear much longer. “Where’s the Ambien?”

“Why?”

Elbows on the table, she held her head in her hands. “Maybe it will help me sleep this time. Isn’t that what we all want?”

“Not that way. It made you nauseous and gave you a terrible headache. Why don’t you try some wine first?”

Jasmine laughed without meaning to. “I think I need something a little stronger than wine or even my prescription. Know anyone who could hook me up with the anesthesia Michael Jackson had?”

In an instant, Violet was behind her, massaging her shoulders. “Don’t talk that way. Ben’s taking care of this.”

Ben? Heat flooded Jasmine as she recalled what had happened between them. Worry over seeing him again gripped her. She dropped her hands. “How? I thought you said he and Lil were on a delivery.”

“She is. Hold on, Ben’s not bothering Mike.” Violet put a lot of her weight on Jasmine’s shoulders to keep her in the chair. “He went to The Ocean’s Brink.”

“Why did he go to an Internet café?”

“He’s sending an email to Mike’s government friend, so she can help us find Desiree.”

Blood drained from Jasmine’s face.

“Mike told him exactly what to write,” Violet continued. “This is going to be over before you know it—Jas, what’s the matter? Don’t you believe me?”

Sobs racked her body, restricting her speech.

Violet rubbed her arms. “Are you crying because you’re relieved?”

“No!” She blurted, “I love him. He’ll leave. I’ll never see him again.”

Violet’s massage slowed. She used their mother’s firm voice, the one Jasmine tried to imitate when she’d raised her and Lily. “You don’t know that.”

“Of course I do.” She ran the robe’s sash beneath her eyes and nose. “You think he’s going to want to see me after this?”

“I meant you don’t know that you love him. How could you?”

She pushed Violet’s hands off her, rage peaking so fast it heated her face and chest. For the first time since they’d reached adulthood, she wanted to slap her sister’s face. “Because he’s Native American?”

“What? No! Believe me, I don’t think I’ve ever seen a more attractive man. A guy you met less than two days ago. One who isn’t at all like the type you dated before. You know I hate to ever agree with Lily, but I think what you’re saying is the curse talking, not you. Being attracted to him, liking him, even trusting him is one thing. Loving him is quite another.”

It made sense intellectually, but in a part of her soul unaffected by the curse, Jasmine knew better. For too many years, she’d longed to have what her parents experienced, a sense of completion and rightness about being with another person. A man she respected, admired, craved and wanted to keep safe. Until Mike, no man had evoked that from her. She pressed her fingers to the corners of her eyes, squeezing them to stave off more tears.

Violet rubbed her back. “You’ll feel better after you eat.”

“Do you know where Lily put the Ambien or even the Sominex?”

“I’ll find one or the other for you, if that’s what you really want.”

“I do. And hurry. Please.” She trusted herself even less now than she had these past months. At the prospect of losing Mike, Jasmine wasn’t certain what she might be capable of doing.

The hand on Mike’s arm told him he’d fallen asleep or passed out from his mental gymnastics. Had Jasmine returned? His lids opened on ashy light. Dusk? He regarded the blunt fingers still touching him and Ben’s troubled face.

Mike’s skin went hot then cold. With his free hand, he felt the sheets behind himself. Cool to the touch. Empty. Jasmine hadn’t come back. “Where is she?” It took him two attempts to get to a sitting position, with the cuff insistent on yanking back his hand. He swore. “What’s happened?”

“Nothing.” Ben stepped away from the bed, the Glock at his side. “With her or anything else.”

“Stop being so fucking cryptic. Where is she?”

“Asleep. Violet said she took her prescription. You were right. It finally worked. Your friend hasn’t answered the email. That’s why I’m here. I’ve been staring at the computer screen for the last couple of hours.”

Shit. “I’ll call her. Get me one of those disposable phones.”

“In the morning.”

He frowned. “Why not now?”

“I researched throw-away cells. Some have GPS locators on them. That’s what the stores around here happen to be selling. I located the phone I want at a store that’s an hour away. Even if I left now, I couldn’t get there before it closed. It will have to wait until tomorrow.”

Mike reined in his temper and voice. “You don’t have to go through all this shit. No one’s looking for me, all right? I lied to you guys about that so you’d let me go. When I told Jasmine at the club that I didn’t have anything planned for the next couple of days or nights, it was the fucking truth.”

“Oh yeah?” Ben’s smartass tone said he didn’t buy it. “I found messages in your account from the people you work for. They were expecting you to email them today about the Jenner case and the Malwaski situation. At the café, I sent all of them the same response—that you’d be out of town for the next couple of weeks. A family emergency. They replied with their condolences and said to take your time and get back to them when you returned. I’m not going to let anyone worry about where you are, look for you here and hurt Jas. You’re not leaving until she’s cured.”

“And how in the fuck do you think that’s going to happen if you don’t let me call Erica and get her started on this?”

“If she’s not answering her emails, could be she’s out for the night. Could be she’s not taking calls or returning voice mails, either. We’ll know for certain tomorrow when I get the phone. If she doesn’t work out, I expect you to call one of your other government friends. All of them, if need be.”

“Is he ready?”

Mike followed Ben’s gaze to the door. Lily stood in the jamb, a huge chef’s skillet in her left fist.

“In a sec.” Ben dug the handcuff key out of his short’s front pocket and tossed it on the sheet by Mike’s hand. Next, he pulled a bath towel from the footboard and pitched it. “You know the drill.”

Too cornered to argue, Mike unlocked the cuff, letting it smack into the floor. Lily came deeper into the room with her weapon. She didn’t trust Ben to use the gun if Mike rushed the boy. The steel in her eyes told him she’d pulverize his knees or shoulder with the skillet should he misbehave in the slightest.

He put the key on the nightstand, wrapped the towel around his hips and headed for the bath.

Behind him, Lily said, “After I change the sheets, I’ll call down to Violet to bring up his meal.”

Mike spoke over his shoulder. “How about my clothes?”

“They stay downstairs.”

He stopped and turned to her. “I’m glad to hear that.”

“Why?” Ben asked, clearly suspicious.

Mike used his most arrogant tone, implying they were both idiots. “They’re out in plain sight where they can be seen from the front windows. All someone has to do is look past those ferns and know I’m here.”

A vertical line appeared between Lily’s narrowed eyes. “We didn’t leave your stuff where you’d dropped it. Don’t worry, it’s safe in Jas’s office.”

Excellent. He now knew where to find his clothes. “I hope you haven’t been using my cell minutes or credit cards.”

“Get real.” She bounced the skillet against her knee, causing the metal to bong dully.

“We’re not thieves. All your stuff’s in Jas’s office. Safe and sound.”

With a nod, he thanked her for telling him where to locate his phone and padded into the bath.

“Hold it.” Ben hurried to the jamb. “Don’t close the door all the way.”

“And deprive you of a chance to watch? Wouldn’t think of it.”

Lily snickered. Ben shot her a frown and moved past Mike to the bath’s other door, making certain no one had unlocked it. “Do what you have to. I’ll be by the jamb, just like the last time. I’m going to be watching the other door to see you don’t head for it. Make one wrong move and—”

“Lily will part my hair with her skillet?”

Her voice came from the bedroom. “That’s the plan.”

Ben swung the door toward himself, leaving enough space to slip back inside should he have to. “Go on. No one’s watching.”