Touch of Betrayal, A (8 page)

An elegant woman with striking features sat beside the bed, holding the hand of someone who had been badly burned. Her gaze flashed to me for a second, then turned back to the woman lying on the bed. It was barely enough time for me to catch the anxiety etching her features and sharpening the hollows under her perfect cheekbones. She was Madonna-beautiful, this woman standing watch—almond-shaped eyes brimmed with unshed tears, dusky skin held traces of warm caramel under the pallor, and her full lips had tightened into a thin line.

The burned woman was positioned on her stomach. The covers bunched around her waist gave me a clear view of the extent of her injuries. I reacted instantly, bile stinging the back of my throat. But more than that, the woman’s emotional pain gnawed at me as though I were the one lying there with my heartbeat weak and shallow. I didn’t question it. A similar transference of sensation had happened to me once before, and I recognized it as a heads-up. Someone needed my healing gift.

The severity of the woman’s burns was monstrous in every sense of the word. Her skin resembled something from a horror movie, and was totally at odds with her sparkling cap of silver-blond hair and pale pink cheeks. Her face was turned toward me, and for barely an instant her eyelids fluttered, showing me gorgeous pale blue eyes.

It could have been Millie, burned so badly. The comparison had me questioning how Millie, a woman in her late sixties, escaped a burning vehicle relatively unscathed. Had she been in the back seat? If so, who was driving, and what had happened to them?

A wave of nausea clutched at my stomach. I ruthlessly squashed it, because now I had something more pressing to deal with—the sudden splash of a visible energy field that appeared over the blond woman. It was exactly like the one that had surrounded Annie and Mitch’s brother-in-law, Parker Steele, when they’d been poisoned with the toxin my mother discovered.

A shaft of pure panic rammed into me with the precision of a scalpel. Was I supposed to heal this woman? I did a quick scan of the area to locate Pierce and assess how much time I had before someone noticed I was missing. He was still tied up in the question-answer session.

I only closed my eyes for a second, but it was long enough to drop kick me into one of those skewed alternate-reality moments. The wall clock told me it had been less than two minutes since we’d entered the burn unit, but my head knew it had been at least a half-hour. So much for any possibility my brain worked like a normal person’s, especially when it had flipped into healing mode.

I turned back to peek through the curtain. The Madonna standing watch over the burn patient met my gaze, and a tear tipped onto her cheek. The aura surrounding the burned woman shifted, some of the faint color leaching to a dull gray. She was dying, and something deep within me knew it wasn’t her time to cross through the veil between life and, um, other-life.

A discreet light flashed on the far side of the bed, and the woman standing vigil turned her head toward it, palming a cell phone as she stood. When she left the bedside and headed toward the exit, I stepped in.

Holy Mamma Mia, Everly, what are you thinking? You don’t even know this woman.

It was surreal, or maybe I was delusional from being drugged coupled with a severe case of stress overload. I cradled the blond woman’s head in my hands, and an intense explosion of energy rammed through me while total calm took over my mind. I adjusted immediately. It was familiar, and similar to the healing work I’d done with Annie and Parker. Easier this time, because I knew how to flow with the energy as I shifted a myriad of colors into the burned woman’s aura. I tested various shades and hues, until the combination formed a perfect balance that linked the strands of her energy field into a strong, healthy pattern. There would still be a painful recuperation, but I’d stabilized her heartbeat, other internal functions, and given the healing process a jump-start.

The monitor beside her bed beeped, breaking my concentration, but the intense blues and greens of her aura held. Relief, raw and pure, spun along my nerves. I was done here. I sidled out of the cubicle and into the corridor just in time to see a nurse, the watcher-woman, and Pierce hurrying toward me.

Fatigue slammed into me, and I barely managed the few steps back to Millie’s bed before my legs turned into overcooked linguine. I grabbed the curtain, stopping myself from collapsing on the bed and giving in to a sob fest.

You will not crap out on yourself now, Everly. Not. Now.

I turned to meet Pierce. The nurse and the Madonna watcher-woman had disappeared into the blond woman’s cubicle, and excited, happy voices drifted through the curtain. I smiled, more inside than out. However odd my gifts, it was moments like this that made them beautiful. Perfect.

Pierce gripped my upper arms. “You okay? Looking pale.”

 
I managed a nod. “Uh-hun. Guess everything caught up with me. Can we…?” I let my voice trail off, nodding toward the door.

His gaze narrowed, drilled in on me for a long second, and then he turned to an older nurse who appeared to be taking control of the logistics of our missing patient situation. “You have my number. Let me know when you locate your patient.” Pierce’s voice sounded muffled through the surgical mask, but there was no question he was one pissed-off Irishman. Or it could have been that he was worried about Millie, since I hadn’t had a chance to tell him she was okay.

He wrapped an arm around my shoulders then bent over me, and tightened his hold. The edge of his mask brushed my skin and his voice grated in my ear. “What the hell?” He must have noticed the shakes running through me.

“I’m okay.” It was such a blatant lie.

Disbelief turned his eyes dark, almost gray. “Uh-huh. Where’s Millie?”

I shook my head, giving him a not-so-gentle nudge. “Please. Get me out of here first.” It wasn’t my best attempt at buying time, but I needed some processing space to figure out my next move.

He evil-eyed me the whole time it took to strip off our paper gowns, masks, booties, and gloves. I didn’t flinch. Score one for me.

I weighed my options, and decided it was a good time to ditch Tynan Pierce. Might be my only chance. “I’ll hit the ladies room, then meet you in the lobby.”

Pierce’s hand closed around my upper arm. “Not gonna play out that way, Belisama. Who has Millie?”

I glanced at him, a sneak peek from the corner of my eye. Relaxed face, tousled hair, clear blue gaze, minus the shadows that had been evident since he’d first told me about Millie. My fingers surreptitiously sought his bicep—the nearest patch of bare skin, and I went for it. Usually, I see clearly through fabric, but I’d probably only get one opportunity to touch him with the intent to trespass, and I wasn’t taking any chances on getting a foggy image. I wanted to know what was going on with his sneaky spy agenda.

He grinned, all smug and arrogant, when my fingertips rested on his skin. “Go for it.”

No images. Not a single one. I skidded to a stop, shaking out my fingers, a burst of panic shooting along my nerves. Were my fingers going hinky? “What the heck?”

He rocked back on his heels, eyes twinkling. “Been working with Kahuna Aukele. Learned how to shield.”

Shock slapped me upside the head, my brain cells jiggling for purchase and some kind of normalcy. “Seriously? Kahunas can do that? Aukele never said anything.” And, yes, that was jealousy weighing heavy in my chest. He was
my
grandfather, after all. Would have been my teacher if Mitch hadn’t whisked me back to North Carolina right after we were married.

Pierce towed me to the stairs, and then pushed me through the door, following closely on my heels. “Need to move before they decide to question us. What did you see? Who took Millie?”

I tried for an innocent expression, hoping I could avoid sharing the images I’d picked up, but his hand tightened around my arm, a warning not to test him. He’d find out anyway, so I spilled. “Grandfather and Harlan.”

He let out a soft grunt. “How’d they get her out of the burn unit?”

Incredulous, it took me a second to round up some words. “You’d know that better than me. You’re the one training with my grandfather, and it had to have been some kind of shamanic spell.”

“Shamans don’t do spells, Belisama, witches do. Need to read up on your supernatural types.”

I blew out an irritated breath. Could be he had a point. I’d never delved into other types of psychic gifts, could barely deal with the chaos ESP fingertips brought into my life. But witches didn’t exist, did they? I’d have to ask my grandfather when I found him. “Right. So do you have a better explanation?”

“Not yet. Any chance you’d pick up where they went if you touch the doors in this place?”

“Maybe, but I don’t think so. So far the images have been about getting Millie out of the burn unit, and then the building, without being detected. I don’t think Grandfather wants us to know
where
they are, or he would have left more specific images for me to find. Like my grandmother did in her abandoned house last year. Their destination would be clear if they wanted us to know how to find them, probably an exact map. Grandfather is good at this.”

He hunched his shoulders. “Could be they left a trail for you to follow.”

“Not bloody likely. Not when they know I’m the first person you’d hijack to help you find Millie when she disappeared from this place.”

“Not a valid point. They trust me.” It was barely there, almost indiscernible, but doubt lingered behind Pierce’s words.

Time for me to push my miniscule advantage. “No. Harlan won’t trust anyone, not since someone tried to kill Millie. They’ll go deep into the Hawaiian underground. You know they will, just like my grandfather did for all those years he remained hidden. Back when I didn’t know my grandparents were still alive—well, Aukele anyway.”

Grief spread through my chest. It still hurt that I’d never met my grandmother, and if I was honest, I hadn’t forgiven my parents for keeping them a secret.

“We’re not catching a break on this. Sorry I can’t give you time to process, Belisama, but we need to find those three shamans.” He straight-armed the front door, guiding me through. “Worse than tracking a damned Navy SEAL,” he growled under his breath.

An inhalation filled my nose with a mix of sweet Hawaiian air and the exhaust fumes from the parking garage. “We’re going to Annie’s now, right? I desperately need a shower.” And I wanted my best friend. And an Internet connection so I could reach Mitch, plus Annie and I both had iPhones, so I could borrow her charger.

Pierce’s hand fisted against the small of my back. “Yeah. I’ll give her a heads up.”

I reached for his phone. “How about you let me text Mitch first? He hasn’t answered any of my messages yet.” My words spun out slowly, a perceptible whimper lingering beneath them. Embarrassing. I stole a sideways glance at Pierce, hoping he hadn’t noticed my inner two-year-old slipping to the surface.

Every ounce of color had leached from his face.

EIGHT

I spun around, surveying the Straub
parking garage
.
No one in sight. Nothing out of place. No warnings tingling along my skin. So why did Tynan Pierce look scared? “What’s the matter with you, Pierce? You went ghost on me.”

Silence. Damn the man to perdition.

His non-communicative style nudged my low level of irritation into full-blown pissed off. I inhaled a calming breath, but my leg muscles still ached with the need to stomp my foot at his excellent rendition of a stone wall.

He urged me toward the Jeep with a well-placed fist, his knuckles rubbing against the middle of my back. “Hungry.”

I stopped, twisting to face him. “Right. You always turn specter-like when you’re hungry.”

He didn’t meet my gaze. “A.J.’s waiting.”

Yeah. And I was more than ready for some girl time and a shower, but Pierce had been acting weird since he first showed up on at the North Carolina property. Best I prep for the worst, because he knew something—something he had no intention of sharing, even if I was involved up to my eyeballs. Damn, but I hated not being on his need-to-know list. Made me twitch.

Pierce didn’t say a word during the drive to the North Shore. No surprise there. I spent the time trying to fit puzzle pieces together, finishing the rest of the huge Diet Coke he’d bought for me, and appreciating the scenery. The breathtaking beauty of the rolling hills that turned blue-gray with cloud shadows, and that first glimpse of the pounding surf against the rocky Haleiwa harbor, always left me in awe. The Kamehameha Highway offered a scenic overlook that I didn’t want to miss, so it was easier to ignore Pierce’s weighty silence.

Annie and Sean lived on the border of Haleiwa. Their ocean view was restricted, but Annie and I agreed it was a fair tradeoff for the pool in their back yard. Slate-lined, it extended in a long rectangle from the back of the house, and glistened with shades of bright aqua in the sunlight. After dark, night lights deepened the hue with purple and emerald-blue tones. The area was surrounded with huge planters holding palm trees and tropical flowers, a vision of paradise.

Pierce parked in the driveway, turned off the ignition, and leaned his head back, eyes closed. Fleeting panic lodged in my gut, and the taste of stale soda threatened the back of my throat. Pierce did not hang out in an open vehicle with his eyes closed. In fact, I’d never seen his eyes closed. Not once in the whole time I’d known him.