Fated (30 page)

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Authors: Indra Vaughn

BOOK: Fated
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“We really do need to go,” Hart said, when Isaac reached for him.

“You’ll have to let me reciprocate at some point.”

“Soon, I promise. Believe me, I want you to. When I can take my time with you. Come on.” Turning off the shower, he reached for his towel, wrapped it around his hips, and gave Isaac a fresh one from the cupboard. The arousal throbbed in his loins, and he ached to be touched by Isaac, but he liked the low burn, the promise of what was to come later when they had the chance. At the same time, he had to deny himself, just for a while longer. He hadn’t been with anyone for so long, so it figured this thing with Isaac would come to a head in the same week he’d hooked up with someone else.

In silence they got dressed, Hart shrugging into his shoulder holster as Isaac stepped into his pants. While he had misgivings about taking Isaac with him, he didn’t exactly want to leave him behind either.

 

 

“R
IGHT
.” H
ART
pulled his car door shut and put on his seat belt. “I do have some conditions. When we get there, you stay in the car, get behind the wheel, and, at the first sign of trouble, you drive off.”

“No.”

“Isaac.”

“No! Jesus, if you think I can promise to leave you behind when there’s trouble? No way.” Crossing his arms, Isaac glared at the house.

Hart gritted his teeth. “Then you stay here.”

“Just let me come in with you,” Isaac said, dropping his defensive posture. “I won’t jeopardize your investigation.”

“I know you won’t, but—”

“And you said the ranger wasn’t dangerous.”


Yes
, but—”

“And whatever is happening will be on the news soon enough anyway, won’t it? Come on, baby. Please.”


Baby
?” He felt his mouth quirk up and his resolve crumble. Isaac chewed his lip, a faint flush rising to his cheeks, but he didn’t defend his word choice. Hart sighed. “I just want to keep you safe, Isaac.”

“I understand. I do, but I’ll be driving back to Riverside tomorrow anyway. Don’t make me creep under a window to listen in, which I will. Come on, what’s the harm?”

Hart laughed, but he didn’t sound very amused. “You might think I’m crazy?”

“Okay, now you’ve got to tell me what’s going on.”

Hart threw the car in reverse and maneuvered out of the driveway. “Fine. But don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

He expected incredulity, jokes, or dismissal, but Isaac sat rigid and quiet throughout the entire explanation, eyes saucer-wide whenever Hart could spare a second to look at them. He didn’t speak at all until they reached the mountain road.

“So… this creature
heals
people?” His voice sounded awed and low, and Hart figured he had a believer in Isaac.

“Allegedly. Like I said, there’s no proof. It’s all fabrication from hearsay, legend, and what I’ve deduced with Freddie. If we took this to our superiors—or, God forbid, a judge—with what we’ve got, we’d be stripped of our badges and carted off on a stretcher. And it’s not like we have a suspect anyway.”

“Because you don’t think those murders have anything to do with the healer dude.”

Hart snorted. “We can’t be sure, but no. I don’t see why he’d bother healing people just to kill them after. Unless he somehow benefits from it. That’s what I’m trying to find out.”

“So why are we seeing this ranger? What’s his name?”

“Gutierrez. It was something my dad said in a letter. That the answer lies with the ‘Guardians of the Mountain.’”

“Ha! So you got your big break thanks to me.”

“Hardly a big break, but yes. That and a few bruises.”

“It was still funny.”

“From where you were sitting, maybe.” Hart glanced in his rearview mirror. The mountain road twisted and curled with hairpin turns, so he never got a good look at the truck behind them, or the van in front. When Shadow Pass appeared on their right, Hart drove up its slope until the first curve and then pulled over, turned off the engine, and waited.

When he opened his window, Isaac asked, “What are you doing?”

“Taking no chances.” Hart smiled at him and took the hand that lay on the armrest between them. They stared at each other until the truck approached, slowed down, and then drove on past Shadow Pass. “All good now.” He let go and started the car again.

Gutierrez was right: they had no trouble finding the cabin or the blue Jeep parked in front of it, its plate matching the one Gutierrez had mentioned on the phone. It sat parked on a curved driveway that was once gravel, but the woods had begun to take over with decaying leaves and low-growing weeds. It led to a cabin much larger than he’d been expecting. Rather than a temporary shack, this seemed more of a permanent home. A large porch wrapped around it, with an enormous pile of neatly stacked wood on the left-hand corner. Moss had crept along the stairs, but the rest of it was well maintained. Or rather, someone was in the process of cleaning it up. Two large windows on ground level and three smaller ones on the upper level, under a sharply slanted roof, were framed by recently painted dark red panels.

“I’m not going to lie to the guy,” Hart said before they got out of the car. “You can come in, but if he won’t talk with you there, you’ll have to come back to the car. Agreed?”

“Fair enough,” Isaac said, and then he surprised Hart by quickly glancing around and pushing into his space to plant a wet kiss on his lips. A little dazed Hart watched Isaac climb out of the car, bend down, and say, “You coming, or what?” with a smirk on his face.

“I wish,” he mumbled and clambered out himself. By the time they’d walked the leaf-strewn path to the front porch, the same dark-haired man in uniform Hart had seen on Main Street stood waiting for them in the doorway.

“Mr. Gutierrez?” Hart said, holding out a hand.

Gutierrez nodded and clasped a warm, dry hand around Hart’s. He was a lot shorter than Isaac even, but his shoulder width matched Hart’s at least. Hart caught Isaac eyeing the narrow hips, the uniform that flattered them so well, and had to suppress a flash of annoyance as well as a smile.

“I’m Lieutenant Hart, and this is my friend Isaac Lasko. Since I’m not here for an official interview, I thought you wouldn’t mind if he tagged along.”

“Not at all,” Gutierrez said, his voice lilting very slightly with a melodic accent. Argentinian, Hart guessed. Or maybe Peruvian. His hair reminded Hart of the pelt of a black panther. “Please come in.” Gutierrez pulled open the screen and pushed against the front door behind it to let them inside.

The cabin was warm and bright, and much more extensively furnished than Hart had expected. The room they entered functioned as both a living and dining space. A sturdy table with four chairs took up half of it to their left, while to the right, a cozy but worn dark blue couch and two matching armchairs were grouped around a coffee table. An open fireplace completed the square. On the opposite side of the front door, a ladder led to a second story where no doubt the sleeping area was. On Hart’s left, two doors gave way to a kitchen and a bathroom.

“Do you live here permanently?” Hart asked in surprise. He’d expected this to be a ranger station, not a home.

“Most of the time. I do have a place in town, but I prefer living here.” Gutierrez made a small, amused-sounding noise, rolled his eyes, and then said, “This is my partner, Julian.”

Hart managed to suppress a startle when a figure stepped out of a shadowed corner beside the fireplace, where an old wooden rocking chair stood next to a full-to-bursting bookcase. Hart had no idea how he’d missed the guy on his first scan of the room, but from the muttered “Jesus” coming from Isaac, he guessed he hadn’t been the only one.

A willowy, pale guy with bright green eyes and red hair came forward, and Hart held out a hand. The grip this time was cold and slightly too lax to be comfortable. “I’m Lieutenant Hart,” he said. “Nice to meet you. This is my friend Isaac Lasko.”

“Pleasure to meet you,” Julian said. He gave a small nod in Isaac’s direction, eyes lingering a lot longer on him than they had on Hart, but Julian made no effort to shake Isaac’s hand. Hart felt an odd relief.

“You work together?”

The corner of Gutierrez’s mouth lifted, brown eyes twinkling. “No.”

Oh.
Oh
. Okay, Hart could understand Julian’s reluctance to step forward now. He made a point of smiling at Julian again.

“Would you like to sit down?” Julian indicated the sofa. “The kettle’s just boiled, if you’d like some coffee or tea.” His eyes settled on Isaac again. “Or hot chocolate.”

“Coffee, if it’s not too much trouble,” Hart said, moving toward the couch.

To his surprise Isaac cleared his throat and added, “Hot chocolate would be great.”

Julian’s green eyes smiled, even though the rest of his face not so much as twitched. “Coming right up.”

“I take it you’re here to talk about the Predator legend,” Gutierrez said, and Hart stopped in his tracks. This morning was not going like he expected.

“How can you possibly know that?”

“Your father said you’d end up here sooner or later. To be honest I’d expected quite a lot later.”

“Christ.” Hart sank down on the couch and put his forehead in his hand. With the other one, he waved for Gutierrez to go on. Isaac sank down next to him, their shoulders touching.

“I met him a year ago for the first time. A wonderful man, but you already know that. Very intelligent.” When Hart glanced up, it was in time to see the wry smile on Gutierrez’s face. He had a small scar on the tip of his chin, heavy eyebrows, and a slightly crooked nose. His mouth was full and wide. His ears stood slightly too far from his skull, and Hart wondered if that’s why he allowed his dark hair to curl around them. “And he was very kind. I’m sorry for your loss.”

“Thank you,” Hart said automatically. “So he came to you to talk about the legend?”

Gutierrez sat down in one of the armchairs and crossed his legs. “The Mountain’s best-kept secret.”

“You mean worst,” Isaac said, and Hart turned to him in surprise. “What? You can’t call it a secret if everyone knows about it.”

“But no one believes it to be true.” Gutierrez seemed unperturbed.

“Are you saying it
is
true?”

“I think you know the answer to that already, Lieutenant.”

“So where is he?”

Gutierrez shook his head.

“Mr. Gutierrez,” Hart began, but just then Julian reappeared and handed over a cup of the most fragrant coffee he had ever smelled.

“Call me Mauro, and I’m sorry, but I’m really not at liberty to say.”

Julian gave Isaac his hot chocolate and sat down in the armchair on Isaac’s right. “He isn’t the one you are looking for anyway. Your killer is entirely human.”

“So you’re saying the Predator isn’t human?” Hart saw Mauro flinch, but when he checked Julian, his face was as blank as before. “All right. If he’s not a predator, then what is he?”

Mauro kept his eyes fixed on Hart. “The original legend says he was a shaman who lived on a group of islands that disappeared under the surface of the sea a long time ago. He had a lover, a male lover—an oddity that was revered rather than despised among his people, by the way—who became very ill. With his magic this shaman took the illness upon himself, thus healing his lover. When he died from the illness and they burned his body, as was tradition, he rose from the ashes. Since then, he’s been known as—”

“The Phoenix,” Isaac said softly. Hart nearly dropped his coffee.

Julian’s green eyes flickered toward Isaac. In a soft, faintly hoarse voice, he said, “That’s right.”

“And then what?”

When Julian tore his eyes off Isaac and settled them on Hart instead, the twinkle in his eyes was gone, and a hard line replaced the curl of a smile around his mouth. “Then he lived forever, doomed to heal those who cross his path. If they ask to be healed and consent to pay the price.”

“What price?” Isaac asked.

“That’s between him and those who are about to die.”

Hart felt something like panic start to bubble up from his stomach, but he held it down, and he shifted in his seat to face Mauro. “And the role of the guardian?”

“What do you think would happen,” Mauro asked mildly, “if it became widely known a healer lived on Shadow Mountain? The hardcore religious part of the country would either begin a witch hunt or try to turn him into the second coming of Christ, while the rest would crawl up this Mountain seeking relief for whatever ailed them. Someone has to make sure the myth remains just that, while keeping the Phoenix safe.”

“I still find it really hard to believe in any of this,” Hart said. His chest felt tight, and his head hurt. For the first time in his life he questioned becoming a detective. Unless they found a killer with a motive all his own, there would be no way to explain any of this to a judge. “Did you hear about the murder farther up the Mountain?”

“Near the Thirty Mile hiking trail? Yes. We did.” Mauro’s eyes flickered toward Julian.

“Anything you can tell me about that?”

Mauro shook his head. “Only what we heard on the news.”

Hart turned to Julian again. In a steady voice, he asked, “Julian, are you him? Are you the Phoenix?”

Julian smiled, his taciturn face transforming into a thing of beauty,
a little,
Hart thought wildly,
like a Greek god.
For a fraction of a second, it changed him completely; it was as if he’d become more solid, more defined, gaining height and weight, his hair brilliant like fire, eyes swimming with centuries of wisdom, beautiful and terrible. Beside him Isaac gasped. If Freddie were here, he’d have suspected her of spiking the drinks. Then Hart blinked, and Julian was just a normal man.

“Yes, Lieutenant. I am.”

Isaac’s hands were curled around his mug in tight white fists, but Hart couldn’t afford to question him now. “Did my father find out?”

“He did,” Julian said. He sat in his chair, legs curled underneath him, relaxed as could be.

“Julian.” Mauro’s voice held warning, but Julian waved him off.

“It’s fine. The lieutenant isn’t going to drag me down to the station. Are you?”

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