Touched by Darkness (8 page)

his powers, and successfully put the matter to rest.

Damn Morgan for coming into her life and putting

all these fears into her mind. She would not live

like this.

"Alex is wonderful," she said evenly.

"Is he still coming on Thursday to help me make

cakes for the town hall bake sale?"

Did she dare let Alex go over to Doris's house? He

was so excited about helping Doris bake. But now...

Kara felt the strong urge to pull Alex from school

and keep him home until the matter of the Belian

was laid to rest.

That was her emotional side. Her logical side knew

that she and Alex couldn't live that way. She had to

accept the fact that evil resided wherever there was

opportunity; there was no place she and Alex could

run to that would ever be completely safe. She had

to allow him to follow his usual routine as much as

possible.

"I'd like to help with the baking, too," she said.

She'd keep life on its regular course, but she would

take extra precautions. "Can we both come over

Thursday afternoon?"

"That would be wonderful. It will be much easier to

make all those cakes with two extra pairs of

hands." Doris picked up her pen. "Now, if you can

tell me what my new insulin dose should be, I'll get

out of your hair, and let you get home to young

Alex."

Kara read Doris's notes to see what doses she'd

been taking, made a copy of the notes to put in the

chart, and calculated the amount of a slightly

higher dosage. Doris wrote down the information,

then read it back.

"The American Diabetes Association web site says

you can't be too careful with insulin," she said,

tucking her notebook into her purse. "And I always

worry about getting too much and going into

insulin shock."

"That's always a concern," Kara told her. "But

you're very conscientious, plus you're on premixed

medication that has both regular and long-acting

insulin, so you don't have to juggle two bottles for

your injections. If you'll be sure to eat within thirty

to forty-five minutes after your injections, you'll be

just fine."

"I always do. I set my stove timer as soon as I have

the shot, and start fixing my meal." Doris rose and

leaned over to give Kara a maternal hug. "Thank

you, Dr. Kara. I'll be looking for you and Alex on

Thursday afternoon." She left, leaving behind the

airy fragrance of the Liz Claiborne perfume she

always wore.

Seeing Doris should have been a pleasant ending to

a stressful day, but Kara couldn't seem to shake the

dark cloud of suspicion hounding her. She closed

Doris's file and was rising to put all the charts away

when the phone rang. She saw on the caller ID it

was from home, and figured Alex was wondering

why she wasn't home yet. Feeling her mood

lighten, she smiled and picked up the receiver.

"Hello there."

"We have a problem here."

Kara's smile faded at the concern in her

combination housekeeper and nanny's voice.

"What's wrong, Luz?"

"There is a man here at the house. I've never seen

him before. He came to the door while I was in the

kitchen, and Alex let him in. He was talking to

Alex, and Alex is very upset."

"Oh, no," Kara murmured, certain of the intruder's

identity. "Has this man threatened you in any way?

Did you tell him to get out?"

"No threats yet," Luz said, her voice shaky and her

accent thicker than usual. "I told him I would call

la policía
if he did not leave immediately. He said

to call you first, that you knew him."

"Did he tell you his name?" Kara asked, although

she knew.

"Damien Morgan. He is very arrogant. He said I

could call the police if I wanted, but he's staying

here until you arrive. I sense that he is
muy

peligroso.
What should I do?"

Kara felt as if a huge hand had closed around her

heart and was squeezing unmercifully. "Don't call

the police," she said sharply. "Mr. Morgan won't

hurt you. I'll be there in a few minutes. Just keep

him away from Alex until I get there."

She slammed down the phone, grabbed her jacket

and purse, and raced out of the building as if a

Belian was pursuing her.

A distinct and horrifying possibility.

#

He thinks he can track me, but I'm far smarter than

he is. I was able to pick up on his power, even with

it shielded. I don't know who he is yet, but I will

find out. I know he was somewhere near the school

today. I wonder what he was looking for. Or maybe

who he was looking for. I did pick up a second,

faint echo of energy. There must be someone else in

Zorro with the power.

I will have to investigate that possibility further.

Since the Sentinel was lurking near the school,

perhaps it's one of the children. Now, that would be

an interesting development
—
and one I would enjoy

remedying. I’ll have to check out the school-aged

brats. Discreetly, of course. I'm far too clever to

ever fall under suspicion.

Before I'm through with this pitiful excuse for a

town, my power will be legendary, and I'll be

unstoppable. The Sentinel, whoever he is, will be

just a fading memory in the chronicles of the

Sanctioned. And these bumbling idiots will never

even know what hit them.

Kara slammed into the house, her heart racing. She

wasn't sure what she had expected to find, but she

stopped short when she saw Damien sitting on the

sofa, idly flipping through her latest
JAMA

magazine. Luz stood in the archway between the

living room and dining area, Alex's baseball bat

gripped tightly in both hands and resting against

her shoulder as if she were preparing to swing at a

ball.

Alex stood just inside the hallway leading to the

bedrooms, his dark eyes wide and fixed on Damien.

His clenched fists were the only visible sign of his

agitation. Mac lay on the floor in front of Alex, his

gaze on Damien, his ears and his hackles up.

The scene, and this man's invasion into her home,

spiked Kara's fury to a new level. Damien calmly

turned a magazine page, looked up when she

stormed toward him. "What the hell do you think

you're doing here?" she demanded, surprised at

how hard she was shaking.

He tossed the magazine onto the coffee table, sat

back. "I wanted to talk with Alex about his..." he

glanced at Luz. "Situation." His steel blue gaze

shifted to Kara, piercing her with its intensity. "And

I wanted to continue our discussion."

She forced herself to take a breath and speak

calmly. "I told you Saturday that I don't want you

anywhere near Alex. You're not welcome here."

"Then maybe you should have let your maid call

the police." He rose, towering over her, and stepped

closer.

Resisting the automatic reflex to back up, she stood

her ground. "She's not a
maid.
Get out.
Now."

He didn't move. "Did you check on David Thornton

today?"

The doubts flooded her again. She glanced at Alex

and Luz. The young woman reached over to the

dining room table and picked up the portable

phone. "I can call the police."

"No, Luz, that won't be necessary. Mr. Morgan is

leaving. I'm going to see him out. Alex, get started

on your homework." Kara looked back at Damien,

jerked her head toward the open front door.

"Outside." She whirled and strode through the

doorway, certain he would follow.

The pulsing waves of energy behind her were the

only indication that he was behind her. Absurdly,

she wondered how so large a man could move with

such utter stealth.

The cool afternoon air flowed over her, and she

shivered, thinking she might never be warm again.

Over her shoulder, she watched Damien close the

front door behind them. Mentally bracing herself,

she turned to face him. The relentless electrical

static that surged between them only agitated her

more. "Can't you shut that off?"

"Shut what off?"

"That damned energy. It's... disconcerting."

His brows arched. "Is it now? Well, I suggest you

go with the flow here, and acclimate yourself to it.

You should know I can't do anything about the

conductor/Sentinel reaction."

"I know you can stay the hell away," she snapped,

wanting to advance on him like a boxer on an

opponent; to crowd his personal space and throw

his own tactics back at him. But she knew that

would be a bad move, so she opted to stay where

she was.

He stood motionless on the porch, his duster draped

over his arm. He was dressed in a black turtleneck

and black jeans and boots. His midnight hair was

tied back, denying any relief to his stark features.

In the fading sunlight, he looked dark and

menacing, like a secret agent for Satan.

He appeared oblivious to the chill in the air,

radiating a body heat she could feel even across the

three or four feet separating them. Richard had

been like that, too, with a super human metabolism

and higher body temperature.

"You checked on
David Thornton," he said.

There was no sense lying to him when he could

readily obtain the information. Telling him she

knew the truth, but still had no intention of helping

him, might be a stronger offensive tactic than

playing dumb. "I tried to locate an autopsy," she

said. "One was never ordered."

He didn't appear surprised. "Who made that

decision?"

She didn't want to have this conversation, didn't

want to consider the ramifications. But what she

wanted didn't change the facts. "The police chief,

Tom Greer, decided it was an accidental drowning,

and that an autopsy was unnecessary." That would

put Tom at the top of Damien's list of suspects.

"So now you know I'm right about Thornton."

"All I know is that an autopsy was never done.

There's still no evidence David was murdered." But

her words were sheer bravado, because she knew

on an intuitive level that Damien's suspicions were

correct.

"My psychic visions are never wrong," he said. "A

Belian killed David Thornton. I need your help to

track it."

She rubbed her chilled arms, kept them folded

protectively across her chest. "I won't do it."

He watched her a moment. "You're stronger than

you realize, Kara."

"Yeah, I'm familiar with the Sanctioned company

line." She turned away from the eerie blue glow of

his eyes. "Tell me, is there some sort of pain meter

you Sentinels use as a gauge? Do you compare

notes to see which conductors can endure the most

pain, the most stress, the most horror? Who's

strong, and who's weak? Who can take on the most

powerful and terrifying demons from hell? I've got

a news flash for you, Morgan. I'm no longer on the

list of candidates."

Not that she owed him an explanation. She'd

already paid her dues. She had faced unspeakable

monsters and a shadowy void so immense, she

could only pray God was strong enough to win, that

the light could prevail, and the world wouldn't be

plunged into the abyss of darkness . .

The state trooper laughed as Richard struggled to

get to his feet, slipping on the blood from his gun-

wounded leg. "What's the matter, Wayman? You

letting a little thing like a bullet keep you from

saving this human here? Maybe this will help. "

He pressed the gun barrel to the terrified woman's

swollen abdomen, oblivious to her pleas to spare

her baby. Before he could pull the trigger, Richard

flicked his hand toward them. The gun jerked away

from the woman and fell, skidding between lifeless

bodies.

With a roar, the trooper threw his victim aside and

went after the gun. Richard channeled more energy

to send the gun flying further away, and the Belian

charged him. They both hit the ground, rolling.

Sparks flew in the air as each battled to manipulate