Love Beyond Sight (8 page)

She smiled and before he could blink, tears fell from her eyes, rolling down her cheeks. "I've wanted to meet you for so long. I thought you never wanted to see me."

Oh hell. She cried. Samuel had never been very good at managing women's tears. His mother and his sister had done it from time to time and it'd made him crazy. Unable to resist, he pulled her into his arms.

Yes
, his soul seemed to scream, this was what he wanted, what he'd always needed.
Eden in his arms
. Only it had to be temporary.

She pressed her face against his shoulder. When she stood at full height, she nearly looked him directly in the eyes. Pressed downward, he could smell her shampoo—something with mango—mixing with her strawberry scent.

"What is your name?" she whispered. "Now that I've seen your face, I can't continue to call you the guy in my head."

He sighed, rubbing the back of her neck. "My name is Samuel Quinn."

Almost as soon as he said the name, his skin caught on fire. Or at least it felt like it did. He whirled back, releasing her as he stumbled into his dining room table. Fear mixed with agony as his skin began to shed itself without his consent.

"Turn around, Eden. For god's sake, if you have any feelings for me whatsoever, please turn around and close your eyes. Don't open them. No matter what."

Chapter Six

Sebastian stared at the damn snowstorm with growing irritation. He flexed his hands and contemplated how badly it would destroy his plans if he were to strangle Alexa to relieve some of his tension. Letting out the breath he held, he decided he could endure a few more minutes of torture for a lifetime of success. Soon he'd be so powerful he could start or stop a storm like this one at will.

For now, he'd have to put up with winter in Maine. Besides, he had something to look forward to. He'd felt Eden. Some idiot had let her leave the island and now she was out and about, running around unprotected. Oh sure, she'd had someone with her but he hadn't felt anything from that person so he was sure to be of no consequences. Plain old humans were so easy to digest. One-two-three suck and they were dead on the ground.

It wasn't like she had a soul mate to help her. He'd eliminated that possibility years earlier. And now, to start off his weekend, he would get to kill off the person who could personally be responsible for ending his fun before it even began. If Eden Roan ever got control of her powers and actually predicted his moves, Sebastian knew he'd be a dead demon.

The good news? If he was stuck in the snow not going anywhere, then she was stuck in the snow as well. Tomorrow, as soon as the sun came up and the roads were clear, he was going to go hunting for Outsiders. Starting with the prophet.

"Sebastian?" He turned as he heard Alexa call his name. She stood in the bathroom leaning against the doorframe.

Alexa would always be beautiful. She had good genes. Whatever that meant. Her cheekbones were high, her nose pert and cute, and her jet-black hair made her look like she'd stepped off the cover of a vampire novel. But, he had to admit, something about her gave off the appearance of sickness.

In the few hours since they'd been in Maine, Alexa had gotten really, really dark. He smiled to himself. It wouldn't be too much longer until she became irredeemable. Then he could check off two Outsiders who were totally worthless to the cause. Samuel Quinn—dead. Alexa Lane—evil. Not to mention that Eden Roan was about to be number three. Oh, he loved it when things were so damn easy.

"Yes, love?" He almost choked on the word. There was no such thing as 'love.' It was such a ridiculous concept. His stupid Outsider liked it when he used the phrase.

"I think this was a mistake."

"Oh?" He walked toward her, wondering if he was going to have to fuck her into submission again.

"Maybe if we left them alone, they'd leave us alone."

Sebastian took a moment to try to figure out what she was talking about. He'd told her so many stories over the years; he had to remember which one she currently referred to. Like a firecracker going off in his mind, he realized what she meant.

"The cult? You want us to leave the cult alone?" He touched her shoulders. Small, fine lines had formed next to her eyes. Had she noticed?

"Yes. I think if we just go about our lives and leave them alone, then they will allow us to live ours."

Sebastian doubted that highly. The Outsiders would never leave them alone, even if he felt inclined to let them be, which he did not. He had Alexa. They required her to make their prophecy work. Even if they could never get the full eighteen needed to complete the whole thing, they seemed bound and determined to fill their ranks with as many of their kin as possible.

Plus, there was the small matter of the fact that he'd tortured most of them at one time or another. They seemed like a rather unforgiving bunch in that regard.

No, he wouldn't be leaving them alone. Not until they were all dead or locked in a dungeon being beaten on a regular basis.

"Have you forgotten everything they've done?" He tried to go for an earnest look on his face. Over the years, he'd perfected the act. "We agreed that we would stop anyone who used and abused their powers to hurt mankind. That was what we always wanted."

Alexa looked down. "I know. It's just that I'm so tired and Gabriel is with them now. As crazy and wrong as it seems, I hate the idea of doing anything to harm Gabriel in any way."

He nodded. "Yes, I can understand your feelings about Gabriel." He couldn't but that was beside the point. Gabriel had been a necessary evil in his quest to consume Alexa's soul. Now he was virtually invisible to Sebastian's powers, which proved to be a giant problem. He should have killed him years ago in his sleep.

"Then can we go home?"

Sebastian was going to have to try a different tactic with Alexa if her desire to save the world had started to dissipate with the infusion of darkness into her blood. He was going to call on good old-fashioned guilt.

"You can go back tomorrow, darling, if you want to. I'll drive you to the airport. In fact, I think that might be a good idea. You are, as you say, very tired." He sighed. "I'll stay here and hunt down the information we need by myself. It was too much to expect you to do this with me."

"No." She grabbed his arms. "I'd never make you do this by yourself."

That's what he'd known she would say.

* * * *

Leonardo stared at the house he'd hoped never to see again. The last time he'd been inside of it, the demon had hung him by his hands from the ceiling. The experience had nearly killed Kal and left Leonardo more shaken than he'd ever admit. A man had to maintain some dignity, especially when he was expected to lead.

He looked to his left, glancing down at Marina. She'd been left out of the last trip and hadn't seen the place before.

She stood, hands on her hips regarding the house with a blank expression on her face. Leonardo couldn't help the smile that crossed his face. Although they'd always had something of an adversarial relationship, he'd come to think of her as his second in command. There was never a time he couldn't count on Marina to do what she needed to do.

"What are you thinking?"

She turned her face to look at him. "It just seems so normal. A demon lives here? I don't know why but I always pictured him residing inside of a volcano or something."

Leonardo laughed, startled by the sound. When was the last time he'd found something really funny?

"No, he lives here with my soul mate." He cleared his throat. That felt funny to say as well. "And, for a time, Gabriel called this home too."

Marina paused before she answered, something she almost never did. There was never a time that the woman who had become as close to him as a sister didn't blurt out everything she thought. He knew he'd thrown her with the soul mate comment. They almost never discussed their missing other-halves.

"Speaking of Gabriel, is he okay?"

They'd had to use his powers to get to Louisiana since the sudden snowstorm had prevented them from flying the more traditional way—in an airplane.

"He's a little zonked. It's amusing, actually. Loraine is trying to get him to relax but I think he's around back checking out the house for signs of life."

"No one is here." Leonardo knew it. In his core, he could feel that neither the demon nor his evil-infected soul mate were present. The house stood empty of life. As if to prove his point, he marched forward to the front door.

"Are you planning on kicking it down?"

He didn't turn around to answer Marina's question. Instead, he concentrated his energy on the door handle. It was one of the perks of his particular power. He could, sometimes, send his energy out in such a way that he could do minor things like opening a door lock at his command. Most of the time it felt like he took the energy from the door into himself thus removing the door's ability to stay locked. He couldn't accomplish anything major like end world hunger. This, however, he could do.

He felt the lock release and turned the handle to open the door. "We're in," he called over his shoulder.

"How long have you been able to do that?" Marina ran up the stairs behind him.

"A long time." How had she thought he'd fed them all of those times Veli had taken off to search for other Outsiders when they were children? He'd broken into the neighbors' homes and made sure that his family was always fed. Had they not known?

Whatever. It didn't matter now and it hadn't counted for very much then. He still hadn't been able to protect any of them from anything when it had mattered. "I'm going in."

As the first bolt of electricity zapped his body he wondered if those would be the very last words he ever uttered. Then he couldn't think about anything at all.

* * * *

The water hit Christophe hard in the face and he gasped, trying to get his bearings. Where the hell was he?

He'd done it again, not that he wasn't used to it, but suddenly finding himself transported someplace where he ended up soaked was a new experience for him altogether and not one he particularly cared for.

He wiped the water out of his eyes as he stumbled around looking for an exit from his wet prison. Was it raining?

Looking up only proved to get him hit in the eyes with a cold spray again. He wiped away the wet even as the sting burned his tired eyes. It looked like some kind of sprinklers affixed to a roof were going off. Or, had gone off at some point and were now coming to a stop, hence the trickle down of the occasional spray hitting him in the eyes.

Residual gray smoke covered the ceiling and made it hard to see. If there were any lights on, Christophe couldn't see them. He pushed forward in the dark, knowing he could be walking into a disaster of some kind. This room had been on fire. The sprinklers and the smoke made that clear enough.

"Help me." A voice called out in front of him and he kept walking in its direction. "Is someone there who can help me?"

Christophe could see a little light up ahead. The small voice came from that direction so he moved forward hoping he'd be able to see better and help whoever called out to him.

He could never be sure why he was sent where he ended up. One time he'd been able to help some people who'd been kidnapped. Other than that, his inadvertent travels had always been mysterious to him.

"Help me." Christophe stopped in his tracks. He could see who called out to him now and it didn't make him feel any better.

"Damn." He muttered to himself because he knew it wouldn't matter what he said to the voice now. How many years had it been since he'd last been forced to deal with a ghost? Ten?

He'd been plagued with them as a child. His parents had thought he'd had an active imagination. It had become quite a joke for them to talk about at dinner parties. Finally, through sheer force of will alone, he'd managed to make them go away and leave him alone.

If he hadn't known beyond a shadow of a doubt that he periodically transported from one location to another without knowing how or why he did it, he might have come to believe the ghosts were nothing but a figment of his imagination. But Christophe knew weird things happened. Particularly to him.

And in the scheme of things ghosts were actually not that odd.

He still didn't like having to deal with them. They almost never knew they were dead.

The ghost in front of him huddled in the corner, head down. She looked to be in her mid-twenties, which was such a shame because that meant she had died very young. Her hair, plastered to her head, looked like it had been dark brown. It was hard to tell. Ghosts faded out until they were almost all gray. The longer they stayed in that state, the more silver they became. This one didn't seem like she'd been dead very long.

It was a good guess to think she had perished in the fire that must have run through this place.

"I'm afraid I can't help you, ma'am." He hoped the woman spoke more English than just "help me". If she didn't speak French or English he wasn't going to be much good to her. What if all she knew how to say was help me? One time a ghost had screamed at him for two hours in German. That had been a bad day.

"Please, the flames came."

Well that answered his question as to whether she had died in the fire. "It's better not to relive it."

Christophe didn't know if what he said constituted the truth. Maybe it helped them to discuss it. But it didn't help him to hear it. Not at all. He didn't have time for the nightmares the ghost's death stories would inspire in him. Back in his regular life, there were papers to grade, Ruby to woo, and Leonardo to find. No ghosts. No death. No time.

"Can you help me?"

He shook his head. This was the most frustrating part. "I can't. I'm afraid I'm not going to be able to do anything about your situation."

"Am I dead?"

He nodded. "Yes."

The tingling in his fingertips was the only warning he had before he felt himself pulled out of the reality with the ghost, heading back to his own. He hated visits like the one he'd just had. Why couldn't the powers that be drop him off in a museum or a bar? Why did it always have to be doom, gloom, and kidnappings?