Hunting (26 page)

That was why he’d never
considered himself a true voyeur, a pervert, a peeping
tom.

Until
today.

Those techs, beautiful
women in their own right that he’d met several times, hadn’t found
the camera he’d placed deep in the wall of Malachi’s bedroom. No,
it remained pointed straight at the bed.

At the couple
there.

Malachi had touched her
before; he could see that now in the familiar way the other man
stroked her. She was highly responsive—had
he
ever been with
a woman
that
responsive?
Willingly
responsive? Julia
loved being touched, loved pressing that body against a man’s. She
was a definite
sensual
creature.

It
should
be him in
that bed with that woman.

Malachi wasn’t good enough
for her. Didn’t she realize that? Or did she need him to open her
eyes to that?

That’s what he would most
certainly do; he would take Julia Bellows for his own, and not just
to toy a bit with Malachi, liked he’d originally planned. After
what he was witnessing on the screen, he could not
kill
that
creature. But he could most assuredly
enjoy
her himself. It
would just take more planning, and more risk. A more
advanced
kind of game.

One that he was willing to
play.

He would have her taken,
and then
he’d
take her. He’d use a mask so that she would
never know it was him and not her precious Malachi. They were
almost the exact same size—he’d compared clothing size and body
shape many times with Malachi through the years. His contacts were
blue-tinted. He’d darkened his hair gradually, so no one would
realize the black he now had wasn’t the color he was born with. No,
his natural hair was more the honey-colored that Julia Bellows
sported.

Their children would have
that same hair coloring. Interesting.

He would keep her for…three
weeks, perhaps in the room downstairs he’d prepared for his
previous matrimonial candidate. That should be long enough. Break
her to his will, then he’d have her return to her home, and that
orphaned child of hers. The little girl, a ward of the state, would
only help
his
image. Then he would engage in a romance with
Julia, helping her overcome her trauma at the loss of her husband
and her lover Malachi. And at the hands of her vile
kidnapper.

She would be intelligent
enough to understand that
he
and only he would suit her
needs.

Yes, within six months they
would be married, and expecting their first
biological
child
by their first anniversary. Then he would have the perfect
family—the beautiful wife, and two presentable children.

He’d move into his chosen
political path much quicker than he’d expected. Yes, Julia was a
far better candidate for his wife than Paige.

Paige met only half of his
requirements.

But Julia…

Julia met them
all…

And it was even better that
she was now Malachi’s, because she would be one more thing
he
would take from Malachi.

Jules woke long before he
did, partially because she needed the bathroom and partially
because Lois was breathing doggie breath in her face. Clark was
stretched out over her feet. She didn’t know who snored worse, the
male dog or his master.

She stayed where she was
for quite a long time, despite the persistent urge to go to the
bathroom. Malachi was warm and strong and alive right there beside
her, and she didn’t want to lose what she felt in that
moment.

Dear gods
, he was
right. He
did
make her feel, everything she didn’t want to
feel. She didn’t want to be attracted to anyone. Didn’t want to
wipe Rick from her mind and body and replace him with someone else.
How could she? She’d
loved
Rick more than she’d ever loved
anyone in the world, and she just flat out didn’t want that
again.

It hurt too damned much
when that love ended. And in her experience, it almost always did.
Her mother had stopped loving her father. Her stepfather and
mother’s relationship wasn’t much better. They’d been barely
speaking to one another when they had died. Georgia had lost Bryan,
too. And Jules could not—would not—forget how it felt to watch her
best friend suffer such devastation.

Georgia had found peace and
new love with Hell, but that was definitely something Jules didn’t
want.

She wouldn’t take that kind
of a risk again.

She nudged Lois out of her
way, and stood.
This
wouldn’t—
couldn’t
—happen
again.

The weight of that decision
followed her to the bathroom.

Malachi was still sleeping
when she crept back to her own room, showered and dressed.
Apparently, he was a deep sleeper. His sister was at the stove,
heating what appeared to be oatmeal in a pot when Jules walked
in.

“
Why don’t you just use
the microwave?” Jules asked. The kitchen was
not
her
favorite part of a house. She was far more proficient at
microwaving.

“
Kills the flavor. I made
extra for you and the kid.”

“
Where’s…your brother?”
She’d hidden upstairs in Ruthie’s room as long as she thought she
could get away with.

“
Not calling him ‘his
highness’ today?” Al loved to add fuel to the fire of Jules’
exchanges with Malachi, and Jules usually just ignored her. Not
today. “I assume you mean Tweedledee.”

“
Al…”

Al studied her for a
moment, then sat the spoon down. “What’s wrong? What
happened?”

Jules lifted Ruthie into
the booster seat she’d brought with them from her house. Al passed
her an already half-cooled bowl of oatmeal and Jules sat it and a
peeled banana in front of the little girl. “Nothing. Not
really.”

“
You look like a ghost.
Did you two argue again last night?”

“
No. We didn’t argue.” Far
from it. “We took Ruthie to Pizza Pit.”

“
Sounds like fun. So you
and Malachi? Went out, together? And didn’t…uh…kill each other?
Interesting.”

“
What’s so interesting
about it?”

Al grabbed the remote on
the table in front of them, and turned on the small TV in the
corner of the kitchen. PBS Kids immediately drew Ruthie’s
attention.

Al stepped directly in
front of Jules, and Jules looked up at the taller woman. Sometimes,
Al was just that damned perceptive. “Something’s happening between
you, isn’t it?”

Jules closed her eyes for a
moment. Pulled in a deep breath. “I—I think it is. And…I don’t want
it to.”

“
I see. And Mal’s pressing
the issue, isn’t he?” Al hugged her. “Once big brother gets an idea
in his head he rolls downhill faster than Sisyphus’s
boulder.”

“
And I’m the rock. Or the
hill. I haven’t figured out which yet.” Jules turned away from her
friend, the woman’s blue eyes too much like her brother’s for
Jules’ comfort.

“
Would it be so bad? To be
with Mal?”

“
It would
be…
horrible
.” To her shame a tear formed and fell before she
could wipe it away. “I can’t do it again, Al. I don’t
want
to. I want to focus on Ruthie, and my work, and that’s it. I’m not
ready for more than that.”

“
And you told him that,
but when it comes to the actual resolve part of things, you
epically failed. Might want to work on that.” Al pulled something
from the countertop. Jules felt her face flame. She grabbed the bra
and shoved it in her purse. Oh, God. They’d forgotten their
clothes. “Oh, kid. You two really get to each other, don’t
you?”

“
And that terrifies me.
He’s…he’s...
perfect.
”

Ruthie was staring at him.
She watched every move he made like he would watch a suspect during
an interrogation.

“
Did you foamicate?” It
took him a moment to figure out what she meant. He nearly choked on
the toast Al had plopped in front of him once her words sank
in.

“
Excuse me? That’s not a
nice word to use.”

“
Then why was Momma Jules
in your room?”

“
This is my house,
sweetheart. Al is my sister. Remember?” How had she known? They’d
been quiet.

“
Then why are me and Momma
Jules here? Did you foamicate?” She looked at him, with an
expectant stare that had him squirming in his seat. Was the guilt
on his face now so suddenly clear that a three-year-old could see
it? “Did you? Foamicating is bad. I don’t want Momma Jules to be
bad.”

Al was snickering at the
kitchen island behind him, then outright laughing. At Malachi’s
glare, she sobered, and squatted down in front of Ruthie. “Honey,
that kind of stuff is private. And Momma Jules would be embarrassed
if she heard you asking men that.”

“
Oh. Ok.” She dug into her
cereal with gusto, but Malachi doubted she’d forgotten the
question. But how much of its
meaning
did she understand?
The child had been born into a religiously corrupt household, where
such topics were probably discussed with all the fire and brimstone
one like the girl’s father could muster.

“
Thanks, Al. Between
us?”

His sister’s blue
eyes—identical to his and Mick’s—sparkled as she looked at him. She
was definitely laughing at him. Nothing unusual—Alessandra usually
was. Her humor was what made her unique. That it was directed at
him most of the time was just one of the irritations he had to deal
with.

“
So why are we
here
? I want my new room.”

“
You’re here because…”
What had Jules told the little girl? What was he supposed to say
now? He looked at his sister for help. She shrugged; he’d get no
help from her. Figured. “You’re here because Mamma Jules is helping
me with some work I need to do.”

“
And because the people
are coming to fix the floor at our house, remember?” Julia’s words
were calm and firm, no trace of embarrassment. Had she heard
Ruthie’s earlier comment? Malachi looked at her face, and found
nothing. She’d carefully blanked her expression. Was that the
strategy she was going to take between them?

Sudden nerves hit
him.

He’d assumed she wasn’t in
his bed when he woke this morning because of the little girl
staring up at the two of them. But maybe Julia had run away again?
Even if it was just down the hall?

Frustration and irritation
filled him. He was
not
letting her do that.

“
How long does it take to
fix a broked floor?”

“
A few days, maybe a week.
It could even be longer,” Malachi said. He hoped it wouldn’t be
that long until they caught the bastard threatening them all. But
he had Julia in his home. In the room right next to his. Yes, his
sister was on the
other
side of Julia, and Ruthie across the
hall. But…Julia was in his home. And she’d already been in his
bed.

He was coming home with
her
tonight, and that was one hell of a tactical
advantage.

Malachi was an excellent
strategist, and Julia wouldn’t stand a chance.

***

“
Why my mother?” he asked
as they were crossing the parking lot of PAVAD fifteen minutes
after they’d dropped Ruthie off with his parents.

“
Al suggested it last week
at church. Rosa is getting married and retiring, except for about
ten hours each week. And Al thought your mom would enjoy it. She
thinks your mother is missing working with children on a regular
basis. And thought it would help both me
and
Ruthie out. I
couldn’t disagree with her. And besides, your mother is someone I
trust.” She shrugged, still speaking to him in the same bland tone
that had driven him crazy since they’d left the house. She wouldn’t
let him steer the conversation to what he wanted. Damned stubborn
ass woman.

They needed to resolve this
thing between them. Before it drove them both nuts.

He put a hand on her spine,
ignoring the way she stiffened. She kept walking. He kept pace.
“And you don’t trust many. I think Al’s right. Mom
is
feeling a bit displaced. Ruthie will help with that.”

“
And Al says so far,
Ruthie has prevented your mom from the
when-are-you-giving-me-grandkids conversation.”

“
Always added benefits.”
He led the way to the elevators. She’d head to the basement where
her pathology lab was located, while he’d head up to the third
floor to meet up with his team. He’d threatened to stay at her side
all day, even when in the building, but Julia had balked at that
completely. So they’d compromised—he’d stay with her everywhere but
PAVAD. “Julia, maybe Al could pick Ruthie up and you and I could go
somewhere and talk…”

“
About what?”