Dangerous Loves Romantic Suspense Collection (83 page)

But he wasn’t human.

He was a monster.

Faith sighed as she sopped up the last bit of her salad dressing with a chunk of crusty French bread. It hadn’t taken her long to finish off the salad. And she had only a little bit of red wine left in her glass.

“You might as well finish it,” Kimmi said. “Hell, you look as if you could use something stronger.”

“Today I’m almost inclined to agree with you,” Faith said with a weak laugh as she reached for the glass.

It shattered. She hadn’t even touched it. But still, the glass shattered.

“What the hell?” Kimmi asked, looking around. “Did something hit the glass? Did you see what it was? All I saw was a flash.” She turned her gaze up. “Did something fall from the ceiling?”

Faith curled her fingers into a tight fist.

Nothing had fallen from the ceiling. Dread grew in the pit of her stomach. Thanks to whatever Horace had done to her, she could now break glasses without touching them. She didn’t want to think about what else she might shatter with this strange power that had infected her.

“It was nothing. An accident,” Faith said quickly.

“But you didn’t even…” Kimmi’s eyes grew wide, and she pushed back from the table. “Faith…you’re glowing.”

“What?” She looked at herself in the reflection of the white ceramic plate sitting on the table in front of her. There was a slight golden glow resembling a halo ringing her head. Her hands began to tremble. “Great. Great. This is just what I don’t need. This is his fault. He’s doing this to me.”

“Who? Horace? How? I don’t understand.”

“I bet this is his way of getting me to come back to him.”

Faith jumped up from her chair, knocking it over. “I’ve gotta get out of here.” She didn’t know how to control the changes happening to her. If she stayed she might accidentally hurt Kimmi in the same way she’d hurt Brendan. “Sorry about the lunch.”

“Wait!” Kimmi tried to chase after Faith, but the waitress stepped in the way. “What’s going on?” Kimmi shouted as she tried, unsuccessfully, to sidestep the waitress. “What are you going to do?”

What was she going to do?

Good question.

Stay away from Horace, she supposed. Though the thought of never seeing him again crushed against her heart. Love wasn’t supposed to hurt like this. Her parents were in love, and their relationship was nearly perfect. They were comfortable with each other. Happy.

They knew how to handle a powerful relationship. And then it hit her.

Her parents. They’d traveled the world and had lived through some scary shit.

Perhaps they could help her figure this all out.

* * * * *

Faith steered her old Honda into the driveway of her parents’ lavish Frank Lloyd Wright inspired prairie-style home on the edge of Oak Park just as her mom had been pulling out of the driveway.

Growing up, Faith had spent very little time at this house. But seeing the lazy wide overhangs, the aging redwood, and the rugged stone siding still made her feel warm inside. The cedar-laden air outside the house smelled like Christmas to Faith. Her parents tried to always get back to the states for the winter holidays. The modern conveniences, like a bathroom with a toilet that flushed and hot and cold running water, had been as exciting as any toy that Santa could have brought her.

It seemed odd to have her parents living in the house full-time now, or about as full-time as you could expect from a pair of renowned and overly active anthropologists.

Her mother, Faith soon discovered, had been heading to the grocery store. But Judy Summers took one look at her daughter and decided the shopping could wait. She took Faith by the arm and led her into the leather-appointed study where James Summers worked on his latest textbook. Boxes of loose papers and moldy old tomes were stacked up all around his desk.

“Daddy,” Faith said, tears filling her eyes. “I’m in trouble.”

While Faith started to tell them what had happened on the night of her birthday, Judy pulled out a magnifying glass and studied the frightening glow encircling her daughter’s head.

Faith tried tell them everything.

Honestly, she did.

Oh, she could tell her parents about all the embarrassing parts, such as how she felt safe and cherished when she was around Horace—she’d been such a fool. And she’d been able to tell them how she’d been intimate with Horace and the marks he’d made on her body—which made her cheeks fiery hot.

But whenever she got to the truly unbelievable parts—the parts about the otherworldly gunman and the sometimes-there-sometimes-not café, her head started to pound. The harder she tried to make her tongue work, the sharper the pain that attacked her.

She gave up after she almost threw up.

“It’s a mystery, sweetie,” her dad said. He lifted his glasses off his nose and set them on the top of his head. The wire rims quickly got tangled in his brown curls. “I wish you could tell us more about this new boyfriend who did this do you. Why would he want to control you?”

“Because—because—”
He’s not human!
she tried to shout but her tongue refused to cooperate.

She sank into her father’s leather armchair and rubbed her temples. “I’m afraid they’re controlling me. Even now, my thoughts are bound up because of them. Because of what
he
did to me.”

That made her parents frown.

“I’m calling the police.” Her mom picked up the phone and started to dial. “I suspect they’ve drugged you. Perhaps I should call Dr. Banks, too.”

Faith tried to tell them that it was magic, not drugs, but those words wouldn’t come to her lips either. And the glow around her head grew brighter.

“Horace,” she breathed, feeling more than a little desperate. She wondered if he could hear her. “Horace, please don’t do this to me.”

Chapter Thirteen

Horace held out his hand and tried to will the newly refilled teacup Jake had placed on the café table to slide over to him. It refused to budge.

Most of
the Protectors
had left The Oblique Café. Many had returned to their daily routine. Being magical didn’t pay the bills. Nearly all of them led normal lives with normal jobs that couldn’t be neglected. Stone had sent those with flexible schedules out into the streets of Chicago to see if there had been any reports of odd occurrences.

Most mystical creatures were terrible at blending in with the humans. Perhaps
the Protectors
succeeded where the others failed because, unlike the immortals flitting in and out of this realm,
the Protectors
had been raised alongside human children and had learned early on the nuances of society rules. Whatever the reason, mystical creatures, at least the ones who did attempt to blend, often ended up sticking out like sore thumbs. Not that the humans ever noticed. When you knew what to look for, it was easy to find some pretty odd creatures out there living with the humans. Several of the creature from the mystical realm masqueraded as celebrities, where outlandish behaviors were the norm.

But
the Protectors
knew the truth. And they all agreed that they needed to track down Ballou and confront him before he got the chance to regroup and plan another attack.

For the past several hours, Stone had received regular updates from the street-by-street search. So far, no one had found anything more notable than garden gnome that had gone wild in an elderly woman’s courtyard garden.

Horace had wanted to join the search, but Stone had stopped him.

“You’d just go looking for Faith,” Stone had pointed out, which had been the truth.

While Horace was glad for the distance from her—he didn’t need Faith in his life, and he certainly didn’t need her sapping his powers—he couldn’t seem to stop thinking about her and what he would do with her when he got his hands on her again.

He blamed her for binding their souls into a tangled knot. She’d pursued him with a single-minded determination and had teased him mercilessly. What was a guy to do? Oh, he knew what he’d do when he got his hands on her again.

He’d grab her wrists and hold them above her head. She’d struggle against him. Maybe she’d be a little frightened. Good. He wanted her to use some caution around him in the future.

He held out his hand and focused on that damned teacup again.

She’d fight him. Curse him. Bite his lip. He’d bite her back. And that would only serve to enflame her. Their lips would battle, and she’d press her body against his. Through the layers of her clothes, he’d take her breast into his mouth. Her nipple would be hot and aching for him. He’d lick, suck, and tease until she moaned his name.

The blasted teacup didn’t even wobble.

But she’d eventually surrender. Her tight, compact body would meld with his. Her curves fit so deliciously well with his, especially when she wrapped her legs around his waist. She’d bite her lower lip and smile. She had a mischievous smile that made his chest ache. Seeing it would make him want to kiss her again. She’d make a little grunting sound in the back of her throat as he ravished her mouth. He liked it when she did that.

And her light blue eyes would grow smoky with lust.

He narrowed his gaze and gritted his teeth, hoping that would help focus his powers so he could slide the cup across the table.

With a wave of his hand, her clothes would be torn from her body. There was no need to hide his powers from her anymore. So why not use them to his benefit? And hers. After he put that third mark on her body she would belong to him.

Forever.

Nothing would stop him from taking her. Their desires and hungers would be merged.

The cup shuddered, but remained exactly where Jake had set it. Horace drew in a deep breath and tried again to visualize the cup moving toward his outstretched hand.

He’d worship her. He’d feast from her honey-scented body, taking pains to make sure she’d be as lost in the bliss of their lovemaking as he surely would be. He’d make love to her with his tongue and bring her to the brink of madness. She’d be shouting his name before he was done. He’d make sure she’d never regret loving him.

Horace leaned across the table, picked up the cup, and took a sip of the tea Jake had fixed for him.

“I’ve never lost control like this before,” he admitted to Brendan, who slouched in a nearby chair with his arms crossed over his chest.

“The power is still there,” Brendan said as he watched Horace through heavy-lidded eyes. “You’re just too caught up with other…um…thoughts, to be able to focus.”

“Other thoughts?” Brendan wouldn’t have been eavesdropping, would he?

His friend raised a brow and had the decency to blush.

“I’d appreciate it if you’d stay out of my head. My feelings toward Faith are private.”

“I wish I couldn’t hear them.” Brendan stretched and crossed his legs at the ankles. “It’s worse than watching pornography. I’d appreciate it if you could tone it down. Dallas isn’t around to help me out, you know.”

“Try harder. I’m sure you have something better to do than sit in my head. Perhaps you could go help look for Ballou.”

“This isn’t her fault, you know,” Brendan said. “You shouldn’t blame her.”

“I don’t want to hear this.”

Brendan didn’t seem to care what Horace did or didn’t want to hear. “She didn’t take your powers. You still have them.”

“Then why couldn’t I even tip over that damned teacup?”

Brendan shook his head. “The silvery thread that connects you to the universe, the source of your powers, is still there. And it’s shining pretty brightly right now. I think you’re inadvertently funneling all that power over to Faith.”

It was a commonly held belief among
the Protectors
that they didn’t have any innate powers of their own. They were able to tap into the universe and focus the energy that was everywhere and everything at all times.

It took years of training and careful practice to learn new ways to direct that energy. New skills just didn’t pop up overnight. Well, not usually.

“I’m not convinced she’s tapping into my powers or that I’m somehow sending them her way. Don’t forget, she healed me.” Which was one of the most difficult skills to learn. Only a few among them were naturally inclined to learn the complicated process involved with saving a life.

Horace wasn’t one of them.

“The bond I have with Dallas enhances my natural abilities and I enhance hers. Perhaps it is the same with you and Faith.”

It couldn’t be the same. Faith was human. Horace closed his eyes and shook his head. “I just want it to all stop.”

“What’s happening to you doesn’t have to be bad.” Brendan leaned forward and put his hand on his friends shoulder. “Two halves of the same whole coming together…it’s a beautiful thing. There’s nothing wrong with finding your mate.”

But Brendan was wrong. Horace needed to remain alone. Why? The answer pulsed against the barriers in his mind, trying to get out, trying to warn him.

Loving Faith would bring the both of them nothing but danger.

He had to stop this. For both their sakes, he had to figure out how to stop his heart from wanting her so fiercely.

* * * * *

Much to Faith’s horror, sparks lit up her father’s leather-appointed study. The bursts of energy flickered as they cast an alarming green glow on the books crammed onto the shelves that lined all four walls. Faith took a deep breath, trying desperately to control whatever Horace had done to her.
Horace!

The room suddenly lit up like a fourth of July celebration. During the grand finale, at that.

Faith’s mother gasped.

Faith would have gasped, too, but since taking a deep breath had only made the sparks brighter, she thought it might be safer to hold her breath.

“Honey, are you okay?” he dad asked. His voice sounded strange. Distant. “Honey?”

Faith looked up at him and blinked. She could see his lips moving and hear the words, but she couldn’t seem to put the two together.

She looked down at her hands. They’d started to glow now, too.

“You’d better not touch me,” she warned. She remembered how she’d had knocked Horace’s friend to the ground with a very similar kind of spark when he’d tried to keep her from leaving the café. And she hadn’t forgotten how she’d broken the wine glass without even touching it. “I don’t know how to control this. I don’t know how to stop it.”