Edge of fear, p.28
Edge Of Fear, page 28
She forced herself to break away from him. His voice was so matter-of-fact when he spoke about what “had to be done.” Out of the safety net of his arms, she scooted across to the other side of the bed and slung her legs over the side. She sat there for a moment, gathering herself, putting her thoughts into words.
“You were doing your job,” she said quietly, not turning to look at him.
“Yeah.” Was it her imagination, or did his voice have a bitter edge to it? “That I was.”
Grateful that the crying jag was finally over, she rubbed both hands over her hot face. Her eyes were swollen, and her nose was stuffed up. “I need a tiss—Oh.” A box of tissue appeared in her hand.
Face hotter than ever, she was horrified to find Keir Farris leaning against the wall watching them. Not attractive. But then she wasn’t trying. “How long have you been—forget it.” She blew her nose. “I probably need to thank you for whatever part you played in saving me and the baby, but I’m still pissed off about the whole T-FLAC thing, so could you, uh, hit the road?”
His lips twitched, but his eyes were serious. “That part was all Caleb. And I was just sticking around to make sure you didn’t kill him.” He disappeared.
Would she ever get used to it? Knowing about magic? Would Bean…she stopped herself from going there.
“My favorite wizardly skill.” She jerked her chin to where Caleb’s friend had been propping up the wall. “Why don’t you give it a try—” She glanced down to see a smear of still-sticky blood staining her fingers. Not hers.
Her eyes shot to his. “Are youbleeding ?”
“Where do you want to go?” Caleb asked tightly as he rose. He looked like he’d been to hell and back. His jaw was dark with stubble, his eyes were sunken, and one side of his ripped T-shirt was covered with dried crusty blood. The other, where it was ripped, was dark red and shiny. Worse, it was clear that he was so weak he could barely stand.
She stood, too, pulling up the strap of her torn sundress as it slid down her shoulder. She wanted to be glad he was bleeding. He deserved to bleed, and worse. But somehow she couldn’t quite work up the enthusiasm. She didn’t know what to think, what to believe anymore.
Pressing a hand to her stomach as it heaved, she thought she’d seen enough violence during the past two days to last her a lifetime. Caleb didn’t need her sympathy. If he was hurt, he’d fix himself.
She rubbed her forehead, where a monster headache bloomed. “What day is it? Is my father still dead?” She had no idea if she was in the past, the present, or the damned future.
“Still Sunday. Yes.”
“Before I was kidnapped? Before all those poor women at the clinic were butchered?” Please God let all those women be alive.
He shook his head.
Her heart clenched. “Caleb! For God’s sake. Whynot ?”
“You were my priority.”
She didn’t know what to say to that. “Beam me to San Francisco. And beam yourself straight to wherever you need to go—just keep the hell away from me and Bean.” Her baby had to be her number-one priority.
“We have unfinished business—”
“Oh. Iso don’t think so.”
“If you want the bad guys to stop trying to kill you, you have to give me that early birthday present your mother gave you that day at the flea market.”
God. That bright sunny day seemed like forever ago. “How do you know she g—You went back, didn’t you?” Instead of feeling like he’d invaded her past, Heather was struck by the familiar sensation of loss. What she wouldn’t do to have one more day like that with her mom. To tell her about—everything. And Caleb could pop in and out of time as if he were riding an elevator.
“What was it she gave you?”
The point of prevarication was long past. She just wanted out. She wanted her apartment. Her life. Pick a life, any life, as long as it was…anormal life. “A few pieces of antique jewelry.”
“Can we teleport to San Francisco and take a look?” he asked politely, “or would you prefer going the conventional route?”
“Swear it won’t hurt Bean?”
“I’ve been assured that it won’t.”
Her eyes narrowed. “Who assured you? The Association of Wizard Midwives?”
His lips twitched with the struggle not to smile.
“Something like that. Believe me, I won’t do anything to put you or the baby in jeopardy.”
“That ship has sailed. But I want to get this over with as fast as possible. Zap away.” She closed her eyes. “Hang on. I’d better use the bathro—Oh.” She looked around. “We’re here!”
Her apartment was just the same as it had been that fateful day he’d proposed. A lifetime ago.
Caleb shot out a hand to support Heather as she wobbled with reentry. Under the hectic flush on her cheeks from her bout of crying, her face was pale, her pretty eyes a little glassy. She’d had a hell of a day.
“Sit.” He deposited her on the side of her very own bed, then pulled over the straight-backed chair from her table. He wasn’t feeling so swift himself. He’d almost died bringing her back from death. It had taken every vestige of juice he’d had, and when that was depleted, he’d dug for more.
When the others had tried to tell him it was hopeless, he’d grit his teeth and channeled more energy into her lifeless body, and that of his son.
She looked around her apartment with red, swollen eyes, clearly exhausted. “Weird,” she mused. “Everything looks exactly the same as when we left.”
Her hair was tousled, she had a smear of dried blood, his, below her ear, and she looked so beautiful, Caleb’s heart ached. She was everything he wanted. And everything he couldn’t have.
“Is that jewelry here?” He wanted to get this over with. Once and for all.
“No.” She ran her fingers through her hair, as if she’d caught his thoughts, and scooted back against the headboard. “I keep most of it in a safety deposit box at a bank in Concord.”
“Will you let one of my people bring it here so I can take a look at it?”
“One of your pe—No. You get it.” She lifted her chin in what he’d come to recognize as her “hell no” look.
“Unfortunately I have somewhere else I have to be,” he told her coolly. Black particles obscured his vision. He clamped a hand tightly on the seat of the chair he was sitting in to remain upright. He had to get out of here before he passed out.
“Yeah. I bet you do. Then sure. Someoneelse can go and get it. I need some pieces myself.” Swinging her legs off the bed, she paused to glance at him. “I’m going to get some tea.”
Caleb ground his teeth and yanked his phone out of his back pocket as Heather went into the kitchen. Water ran into the sink, followed by the slamming of pots on the tile counter in a very female, nonverbal form of communication.
Still pissed.
And God help him, justifiably so. He closed his eyes and spoke into the phone. “I need you, plus two, here at Heather’s apartment, stat.”
Caleb flipped the phone closed. Even that took effort. He was physically tapped. Out of juice, and in danger of passing out any second. It had been a fucking miracle that he’d been able to maintain consciousness back in Matera for as long as he had. Adding this teleportation to his already dangerously depleted store of magical energy could very well kill him. There was still a chance Heather could have her wish.
Thank God the cavalry was on its way.
Lark materialized with a bottle of nail polish in her hand, and a dark look on her face. Under a long, swirling black skirt her pale feet were bare and sporting little yellow foam things between her toes. “You look like shit on a shingle,” she told him unsympathetically. “This better be important. I was right in the middle of giving myself a pedicure, Middle Edge. What do you want?”
Before he could answer, Dekker arrived, followed by Rook. They both glanced around with interest. “Long time no see,” Tony Rook said, grinning.
“The gang’s all here,” Lark told Caleb, one pierced eyebrow raised in haughty inquiry. Nobody summoned Lark. She was usually the one doing the “get your ass over here,now ” commands.
Caleb didn’t give a shit if he paid for it later. Right now he had, oh, a few minutes at best before he passed out.
“Heather’s mother gave her several pieces of antique jewelry the day she was killed. She has it in a safety deposit box about an hour away. Rook—find out where, and go get it. Lark, I want you and Dekker to stick to Heather until—”Hell freezes over, which is when she’ll want to see me again.
“Until?”Lark scowled. “I’m not a babysitter.”
The kettle in the kitchen whistled. “Until this business of the money is resolved.” Caleb rose, gripping the chair back in a white-knuckled fist. “Promise me—” He pushed the words out, capturing the empath’s gray eyes. “Promise that ifanything happens to me…You’ll get Heather to Gabriel. He and Duncan will protect h—”
Black rolled over him in a wave.
Heather spent five minutes in the kitchen trying to get a grip on herself. Her hormones weren’t cooperating and she sure as hell didn’t want to cry anymore. Particularly when she said her final good-bye to Caleb.
Which she knew she’d be doing as soon as he had that damned jewelry.
Fine. She’d deal with it. Too bad she didn’t have Caleb’s ability to reverse time. This would be a lot easier if she hadn’t married him. If she didn’t love him. If she weren’tpregnant ? No. Now, more than ever, she wanted her son.
She’d washed her face in the kitchen, then held an ice-filled towel over her eyes while the kettle came to a boil. Too bad there wasn’t any makeup in here. She looked like hell. It would have been nice to wave goodbye to him looking strong and beautiful, a little like Charlize Theron in one of her good movies instead of a lot like Charlize inMonster. People had commented on her resemblance to the actress before, but right now what Heather really needed was some of the woman’s acting talent.
Strolling out of the kitchen with a mug of tea in her hand, as if she didn’t have a worry in the world, took a ton of effort. Glancing up to casually offer Caleb a cup of tea, she did a double take. There was a strange woman with her foot propped up on the worktable, painting her toenails. The woman, a girl really, had red-and-black-striped hair, silver balls pierced into her eyebrows, and red lips. She wore a long flounced black taffeta skirt and a long-sleeved black baby T. Her feet were bare except for yellow toe separators.
Heather didn’t need to look around to know that Caleb was gone. Her entire body felt his absence.
The stranger didn’t bother with a greeting, but Heather would bet her favorite emerald pin that the woman knew to an inch exactly where she was standing.
Leaning against the doorjamb, Heather dunked the tea bag in her cup.Where the hell is Caleb? And why couldn’t he at least say good-bye? Her eyes burned. Damn it.And if I cry again I’ll never forgive myself. “Can I help you?” she asked mildly.
“Not unless you have some cuticle cream.” The woman didn’t even glance up as she continued painting her toenails poppy red. “I’m here to watch you.”
“Watch me do what?” Heather took a sip of her tea, and observed her visitor over the rim of the mug. All recent events considered, seeing this strange young woman in her apartment was the least shocking.
Her visitor took her foot off the table and capped her nail polish before giving Heather a friendly smile. “Hey, I’m Lark Orela.”
That didn’t tell Heather anything. “Okay.”
“Is that herbal?”
“Black currant. Would you li—Ah.” Lark Orela had produced an identical steaming mug in her own hand. “I take it you’re a wizardette?”
“That’s funny,” Lark said, amused, eyes twinkling. “I’m an empath, and in theory, I’m Caleb’s boss.” She wrinkled her nose. “As much as that’s possible. Bed or chair?”
“By all means, take the chair.” Heather settled cross-legged on her bed, feeling as though she’d fallen, once again, down a damned rabbit hole. Her guest sank gracefully onto the chair in a swirl of taffeta.
“I must say”—Lark blew on her tea, watching Heather over the rim with penetrating gray eyes—“you’re more than I expected.”
“More what?”
“More substance. More depth. Just…more.”
“Wow. That’s so nice to know,” Heather said sarcastically.
“He’s cursed, you know.”
“Bean?”Heather asked, horrified, placing her hand over her tummy in an instinctively protective gesture.
“Caleb.He told you. Right?”
Pausing, she considered the story he had told her on the plane. “Frankly, I thought it was a cute fairy tale. I didn’t believe it. Not at the time.”
“And now you do?”
“Now I know that there are things in this world that nobody would believe. But since I’ve seen these things with my own two twenty-twenty eyes, I don’t have a choice. It’s either be flexible on what I thought I knew or be crazy.”
“That’s a start.” Lark smiled. “He didn’t tell you the entire Curse, you know. He left out the important bits.”
“Which, apparently, you are dying to share with me.” Heather leaned over to put her empty mug next to the bowl of seashells on her bedside table. She straightened, leaned back on her hands, and tilted her chin. “Have at it.”
“You know his parents tried to have a marriage?” Lark asked, holding Heather’s gaze. “Man, those two wereinsanely, crazy in love with each other.” She sipped her tea. “But of course it didn’t work. Nairne’s Curse and all. They gave it their best shot, and it so didn’t work. Hell on the three boys. Hell onthem. End of story.”
“Caleb didn’t marry me for love,” Heather said coolly. “He married me to get to my father. We’ll be getting a divorce as soon as he gets back, I’m sure.”
“You’re sure?”
Heather shrugged. “He’s given no indication that he’d want it any other way. I have no desire to be married to a man I can’t trust.”And who doesn’t love me back, she added silently.
This was such a freaking weird conversation. How could thisgirl be Caleb’s boss? She looked like a beautiful runway model who had zigged instead of zagged. Heather forced herself not to a put a hand to her hair, but she couldn’t help wishing that she could have half an hour in her bedroom in Paris, with all her makeup and a huge wardrobe of designer clothes to choose from.
“And whatdo you want?”
“I don’t—”
“Never mind,” the woman interrupted. “What you want isn’t important.”
Ha! Maybe not to her. But it was damned important to Heather. “The Curse?” she asked, a feeling of dread in her heart.
“‘Duty o’er love was the choice you did make,’”Lark quoted in a musical voice. “‘My love you did spurn, my heart you did break.’ That was Nairne talking to Magnus Edridge when he told her he was marrying the Laird’s daughter.‘Your penance to pay, no pride you shall gain. Three sons on three sons find nothing but pain.’ Five hundred years of three sons to each wife,” Lark explained. “Caleb told you all that. Here’s the bit he left out.
“‘I gift you my powers in memory of me.’ She made them wizards. Nothing wrong with that part.” The empath smiled. “Now this is the part that these boys take very seriously. So listen up.‘The joy of—’ ”
“I’ve heard this. And frankly, I don’t care.” Heather suddenly had to get away from Lark. She slid off the bed and avoided the woman’s piercing gray eyes. Remembering that the damn apartment was too small to pace effectively, she leaned against the wall beside the bed and folded her arms.
“‘The joy of love no son shall ever see,’”Lark continued, skirts swishing.“‘When a Lifemate is chosen by the heart of a son, No protection can be given, again I have won.’”
She cast pale eyes in Heather’s direction. “Do you get that?No protection can be given. That’s why Caleb’s protection spell, as powerful as it was, didn’twork on you.”
Heather straightened away from the wall. “I’m not his Lifemate.”
“‘His pain will be deep, her death will be swift. Inside his heart a terrible rift.’Youdied.”
“Oh, for—Because Al-Adel kidnapped and tortured me. It had nothing to do with the damncurse !” Shivering now, as if she were about to come face-to-face with another horrible truth, Heather bit her lower lip to keep from screaming.
“‘Only freely given will this curse be done. To break the spell, three must work as one.’”
