Touched by Darkness (11 page)

a soft sweater in a shade of blue that brought out

the color of her eyes, and a pair of worn jeans that

hugged her gently curving hips. Damien might

have self-imposed mental barriers and preternatural

abilities, but he was still a flesh and blood man, and

not immune to the allure of an attractive woman.

Especially not to the allure of a woman who was

also a precisely matched conductor, as evidenced

by the strong sexual rush he felt when Kara reached

him. But he had years of experience in controlling

his reactions and ruthlessly forced his responding

body into submission.

Kara obviously felt the spark, too, but didn't have

the practice he'd had in controlling his body, as

evidenced by the puckering of her nipples through

the sweater. Damn, the woman wasn't wearing a

bra. Not that it mattered, he told himself firmly.

The energy snapping between them was a
good

thing, one that would help him track the Belian in

Zorro.

"You're right on time." Her arms crossed

defensively over her chest, and she turned away.

"Alex is in the kitchen."

She glanced over her shoulder as she led the way.

"We just finished dinner. Are you hungry?"

The aroma of food drifted from the kitchen, and

Damien's heightened sense of smell told him they'd

had beef, potatoes, carrots, and bread for their

dinner. He couldn't remember when he'd last had a

home cooked meal; probably not since his youth.

He experienced another rare nostalgic punch. Both

his parents had enjoyed cooking—hearty soups and

stews on cold New York winter nights, and French

toast or waffles on the weekends, replete with

bacon, fresh fruit, and real maple syrup. But the

family meals had ended thirty years ago—

Damn it!
What was the matter with him? He was

methodical and logical, able to maintain an intense

focus on whatever task was at hand. He didn't

indulge in going off on mental tangents in general,

much less forays into his past, especially into his

childhood. That life was over and long gone.

"I've eaten," he said brusquely, stepping into the

kitchen behind Kara.

It was an inviting and cheerful room, with pale

green walls, rustic, white-painted cabinets, and a

warm terra-cotta tile floor. A white wooden table

and four matching chairs were grouped in a

breakfast nook on the left side of the room. Alex sat

in one of the chairs, playing with the remaining

food on his plate.

He shot a quick sideways glance at Damien, looked

back down. Damien could feel the boy's heightened

tension. He knew he'd be more effective if he could

present himself more as a friend and put the boy at

ease.

"It smells great in here," he said to Kara. "Do you

do the cooking?"

A small snicker came from the table. "No." She

shook her head. "I'm not much of a cook, I'm

afraid."

"No?" Damien looked toward Alex. "So, young

man, does that mean you're the cook?"

A quick shake of the head, brown hair bouncing;

Damien thought he saw the flash of a smile. "Then

it must be your maid—" he stopped, corrected, "Or

housekeeper, or whatever she is."

"Luz takes care of Alex after school and cleans the

house and keeps us from starving to death, at least

during the weekdays," Kara said. "Have a seat, and

we'll get these dishes out of the way."

He pulled out a chair and sat before prodding to

find out more about the housekeeper. "Luz is very

protective of you and Alex."

Kara picked up the leftover meat loaf and potatoes

and carried them to the counter. "Yes, she is

protective, and she's very good at swinging a

baseball bat."

"She's not a conductor," he mused, ignoring her

inference, "yet I sense unusual mental strength in

her."

"She's a
curandera.
Not only can she swing a bat,

but she can put a curse on you."

Another snicker came from the table, followed by,

"Oh, Mom!"

"Ah, a healer." Damien considered a moment.

"What is her specialty?"

Kara shot him a surprised look. "Well. I'm

impressed, that you even know what a
curandera

is, and that they practice different kinds of healing.

Luz is a midwife and herbalist."

"She looks too young to be very skilled," he

commented. "And I would think what she does

would be in conflict with your scientific approach

to medicine."

"Not really." She pulled some aluminum foil from a

drawer and began wrapping the meat loaf. "Most of

her patients would never go to a conventional

physician. Luz is very knowledgeable. She learned

from her mother, who was a skilled
curandera
for

many years. At least she'll contact me if one of her

patients has childbirth complications. That's better

than nothing."

"True enough," Damien agreed.

"Alex, please clear your dishes off the table." Kara

bent down to look in a lower cabinet, giving

Damien a tantalizing view of jeans stretching

across a very fine rear. She retrieved a storage

container and stood to put the potatoes in it.

Alex picked up his plate and glass and carried them

toward the sink, but detoured to open the back

door. Before Damien could protest, Mac rushed

inside, already barking. Damien started to send a

mental command to the animal, but then he saw the

flicker of Alex's hand toward Mac, felt the

quicksilver flare of power.

With a final growl, Mac subsided. Kara, getting the

bread and carrots from the table, didn't see the

action, nor did she see the quick glance Alex shot at

her, then at Damien—or the flash of triumph on his

face and the little smile.

Damien contemplated the boy's too-innocent

demeanor. So, Alex must have observed him

silencing Mac on Saturday and again on Monday,

and figured out what he'd done and then replicated

it, which showed intelligence and ability. Not only

that, but Alex was obviously experimenting with

his powers.

That wasn't unusual for a curious boy who could

sense things most humans couldn't, but it could

prove dangerous with a Belian nearby. Without

working closely with Alex on his powers, there was

no way for Damien to know how long he'd been

using them, or how gifted he really was. But he'd

told Kara he'd hold off as much as possible, and he

intended to honor that.

Considering, Damien sat back in his chair. Alex

turned to the sink, Mac settling expectantly on his

haunches, his full attention on the plate the boy was

holding. Alex paused at the sink with his back to

them; Damien saw a piece of meat loaf falling into

a dog dish on the floor.

Kara sank into the chair to his right. "Every night, 1

tell him not to give Mac scraps, because I don't

want Mac begging at meals," she said, her voice

pitched low. "And every night, he sneaks scraps to

Mac anyway, and I pretend not to see." Her voice

hitched, and she paused until Alex stepped onto a

small stool by the sink and turned on the water to

rinse his dishes.

"I love the
normalcy
of our little games and

routines." She clenched her hand into a fist on the

table, her gaze hardening. "Fate has no right—
no

right
—to take this away from us! I don't want to

give up the life we've built here.

At least her tirade hadn't included Damien as a

villain, which he considered a sign of progress. But

unfortunately, Sentinels and conductors were not

fated for 'normal' lives. "I can understand you

wanting that," he said quietly. "But as I've already

told you, there are no guarantees."

Alex shuffled back to the table, with Mac right

behind him, nudging his hand, probably hoping for

more scraps. She turned toward Alex, her

expression changing, and her face taking on a glow.

As she looked at her son, she radiated love. Damien

found the transformation fascinating. He vaguely

remembered his parents looking at him like that—

once upon a time, in a care free world he hadn't

known for years.

"Sit down, sweetie," Kara told her son. "You know

Mr. Morgan is here to talk to you."

Alex slid into the chair across from Damien, his

expression wary. Damien leaned forward,

maintaining direct eye contact with the boy. "Do

you know what I'm here to talk about?"

"Kinda."

Without dropping his shields, Damien deliberately

projected energy. "Can you feel anything?"

A pause, then a small nod. "You feel funny. Like

you did on Saturday, and yesterday."

So Alex could sense the power, even when it was

shielded. Sentinel energy vibrated on a very high

frequency. Conductors and Sentinels could usually

pick up that energy from other Sentinels because

they operated through the three higher chakras.

Belians operated only on the four lower, Earth-

based chakras, with two consequences. The first

was that they couldn't readily sense Sentinels or

conductors, which was fortuitous. But it also made

it difficult for Sentinels to sense them.

"What you're feeling is a special energy that I

have," Damien explained.

"So you're different." Alex looked down, played

with a napkin left on the table. "Like me. I've

always been different from the other kids."

"You're a very normal boy, Alex," Kara interjected.

"You're smart and good, and I'm very proud of you.

Your thoughts are just unusually strong sometimes,

that's all."

Damien placed his hand over hers, gave a small

shake of his head to let her know he didn't want

interference. "Do you agree with your mother,

Alex?"

"No." He scuffed his feet against the floor, looked

at Kara. "It's more than that, Mom. I can tell if

someone is sad or happy, or angry. I can always tell

when you're upset. And if I think hard enough, 1

can move things with my mind. Although I know

I'm not supposed to," he added hastily. "I know

we've talked about it a lot. I don't think the other

kids at school can do any of that stuff. I'm not like

them."

"Does being different bother you?" Damien asked,

keeping a warning hand over Kara's.

"Sometimes, 'specially since I can't tell anyone

about it. Mr. Morgan…"

"Yes?"

"What's a Sentinel?"

Damien felt Kara tense, sensed she was about to

jump in. He squeezed her hand. "I'm not going to

discuss that with you tonight. I will say most

people don't know anything about Sentinels, which

is why you should never mention them to anyone."

Alex thought about that for a moment. He appeared

to be very deliberate in his words and actions,

reminding Damien of himself as a boy. "You told

me I'm a Sentinel, like you. That we both have

power." Alex tilted his chin up. "My special powers

—the ones the other kids don't have—are those

Sentinel powers?"

"Alex—" Kara began, jerking her hand free, but

Damien cut her off.

"Yes, they are."

"Did my dad have those powers?"

"Yes, your father had them."

Alex's eyes flared, darkened. "My dad was a

Sentinel," he said, making the obvious connection.

Kara leaned forward, placing both her hands on

Alex's arms. "Sweetie, those Sentinel powers are

part of the reason your father died. Which is why it

is very,
very
important that you must never use

them. You must never talk about them, and you

must be very careful to shield your thoughts."

His brow furrowed. "Shield my thoughts?"

"Kara, let me handle this," Damien said firmly. "I

gave you my word we'd only discuss shielding

tonight, and I will hold to that. But you can't ignore

the boy's questions. That will only confuse and

upset him further."

"I'm not upset," Alex protested, then chewed his

lower lip. "Not 'zactly."

"I'll let you handle it, as long as you stick to our

agreement," Kara told Damien. She returned her

attention to Alex. "Mr. Morgan is going to work