Prodigal Son (22 page)

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Rafe stared down at her with growing shock. He’d come back to himself with the usual abruptness to find his hand in Cara’s pants, his crystal gripped in her hand. He was a guy and therefore pleasantly surprised to find his hand where it was, but as the seconds ticked by, he became more aware of the wrongness of the moment. He knew well the sexual hunger that followed the manifestation of the Hunter, and he’d always either handled it alone or sought out company to work off the lingering lust.

That hunger trickled like a stream this time instead of hitting like a tidal wave. Cara had been holding the crystal when he’d snapped back into himself. Had she somehow absorbed that dark energy?

She must have.

“What can I do?” He didn’t dare touch her, not when she was so sensitive.

“You need to finish this.” Panting, she opened her eyes a slit. “Now that you’re back, now that it’s
you
 … please don’t leave me like this.”

He hesitated. Her arousal coated his fingers, the scent teasing his nostrils. His rock hard erection strained against his jeans. He hungered to bury himself inside her, but not like this. Not when her desire had been sparked by forces beyond her control. She had not sought the dark energy of the Hunter; it had been inflicted on her.

“Please, Rafe,” she whispered. “I can’t bear it.”

He couldn’t leave her like this. “It’s okay,” he murmured. “I’ll take care of it.”

He cradled her with one arm as he slid the other hand between her thighs. Gently, he stroked her slick folds. He could sense through their bond how close to climax she was, knew it would only take the lightest of touches to push her over. She moaned, arching into his hand, and he buried his face in her hair, savoring each shudder, each gasp, as he gave her what she needed. The orgasm rolled over her, and she cried out and exploded in his arms.

They stayed like that for long moments, the musky scent of her pleasure lingering between them. A hot desert breeze skated by, bringing the sting of sand and the odor of smoke and fire.

His SUV. Ah, hell.

She stirred in his arms, pulling his hand free of her clothing and shifting to fasten her shorts. He let her go, watching as she visibly gathered her composure. Finally she looked at him. “What the heck just happened?”

No dancing around the truth now. “I told you I’m psychic and that the car was going to explode.”

She gave a humorless chuckle. “Yeah. I think you proved that in a big way.”

“Okay…” He drew the word out. “So if you’re not asking about that—”

“I’m asking what happened to
you
.” She sat up completely, shoving herself away from him to lean back against the rock. The movement appeared practical on the surface, but he could see the truth in her eyes. She was pulling back emotionally as well. And could he blame her? She’d just come face-to-face with his demon—literally.

“What’s the deal with this crystal you wear,” she continued, “the one that makes light shows in my head when I touch it? And what the heck happened to you right before the bomb went off? You changed into … I don’t know what … but you weren’t you.”

“Yeah, that.” He rubbed a hand over the back of his neck. “I’m not exactly sure how to explain it.”

“Try.”

“I
am
trying. Look, no one has ever been able to tap into my power like that, so I’m just as in the dark as you are.”

“Great.” Her breathing seemed to be calming, and that stubborn look had come back into her eyes. “Let’s start with the basics then. What the heck is that crystal?”

“It’s a focus stone.” He shifted to sit next to her in the shadow of the rock, out of the blazing sun—but took care not to touch her in any way. To respect the distance she had set between them. “I use it to focus my power, to recharge or reach for more if I need it.”

“Handy. And that changes you somehow? I mean … wow.” She let her head fall back against the rock, staring up at the sky as if she would find the answers there.

“Yeah, it can change me, but only if I let it.”

She turned her gaze back to him. “That was freaky. You were you, but not you. Your eyes turned all black, and you were like this super strong, primal version of you. Not quite human.” Her voice rose in question at the end.

And so it began. “I’m human, Cara. Just more than human, I guess.”

“How? I mean, where do you come from?”

“I told you—Arizona.” He grinned, but she didn’t respond.

“This isn’t funny, Rafe. I’m sure that once I can breathe again I’ll be pretty freaked out, so you’d better start explaining, like now. What are you? Where do you come from? Was there some kind of experiment? Radiation, pesticides, secret weapons from some past war? Are there more like you?”

Her tone had risen an octave, and he could tell panic was starting to take hold. “Listen, maybe that’s enough for now. The rest of the story sounds kind of crazy.”

She laughed again, and the harsh sound grated. “We’re way past crazy, pal.”

“Okay, okay.” He reached out and snagged her bottle of water, which lay in the sand a few inches away. “Here, take a drink. Breathe. And I’ll explain.”

She took the bottle from him, suspicion still evident in her cautious movements, and unscrewed the cap to take a drink. She wrinkled her nose. “Ack. It’s warm.”

“At least it’s wet.”

She glanced from the bottle to him, then slowly extended it to him. “Here. If you die from thirst, I’ll be stuck out here all alone.”

He gave a half chuckle at her grudging words and took a grateful drink of the water. He handed the bottle back to her, and she took a swig, screwed the cap back on, then cradled it in her arms.

“Start explaining,” she said.

“If you’re feeling up to it, we should talk while we walk.”

“Walk!” She sat straight up. “Are you nuts? We should hang out here and wait for the cops to show up. Someone will see the smoke or will have heard the explosion.”

“Exactly.” He got to his feet. “Someone planted a bomb in my car, Cara. Tried to kill us. Police fill out reports and talk over radios that can be monitored. Do you really want to let the bad guys know where we are? Or worse yet, be sitting here waiting for them when they come looking to make sure the job is done?”

“Geez.” She swiped her hands over her face. “This is too much. I need a minute to absorb.”

“Come on, Cara.” He held out a hand, hoping her senses had settled down, at least for the moment. “I saved your life. Whatever your reservations, please remember that. I won’t let anything happen to you.”

She looked up at him, hesitated, then took his hand and let him haul her to her feet. “That’s the only thing keeping me from hitting you over the head with a rock and running for my life.”

“Noted.” She dropped his hand as soon as she was steady, and he didn’t object. He knew she needed time to accept all this, and he knew, too, she might decide she wanted no part of him anymore—or their affair. Not that it made it any easier as he watched her stalk ahead of him, her cute ass in those khaki shorts giving him all kinds of ideas. The dark energy of the Hunter took a good long while to dissipate, and it had taken all his control not to plunge himself into her after his double dose today. But he’d had years to learn discipline, and survival came first.

She paused at the sight of the burning wreckage. He came to stand beside her, a good foot of space between them, and looked at what was left of his vehicle. “Damn it. I loved that truck.”

“I can’t believe it,” she whispered. “This can’t be happening.”

“Come on. If I remember correctly, there’s a bar down the road. We can get out of the sun while I figure out our next move.”

He started down the highway, and she fell into place beside him. “You don’t have any superpowers for this kind of situation?”

He barked a laugh. “This is it, sweetheart. We’re alive. That’s all I’ve got for now.”

“Better than a stick in the eye, I suppose.”

“Way better,” he agreed.

They walked in silence for a few moments. The afternoon sun beat down on them, and Cara slipped out of her short-sleeved blouse, leaving just her tank top, and started to tie it around her waist.

“Keep it on,” Rafe said. “So you don’t get sunburn on your shoulders. Sweaty is better than burned.”

She stopped. “Is that good advice or some psychic prediction?”

He halted as well. “Good advice. I grew up in the desert; you didn’t. You can trust me on this.”

“Trust.” She shrugged back into her blouse but elected not to button it. “How can I trust you if I don’t know who you are?”

“You know who I am.”

“Rafe Montana, bounty hunter? Son of John Montana, the billionaire?” She gave a snort heavy with skepticism. “Is that even your real name?”

“It is. And yes, that’s my father. But I get my other abilities from my mother.” He started walking again, his stride stiff.

Cara wanted to kick herself. She’d ticked him off, and that was no way to get answers. She hurried after him. “Look, I’m sorry for the snark. Really. But this is all kind of overwhelming for me. I mean, power crystals, psychic abilities, someone trying to kill us … This may be just another day’s work for you, but it’s completely foreign to me.”

He stopped and bent his head. “You’re right.”

She came over to him. “Look, I’m sorry about what I said.” She laid a hand on his arm.

His head snapped up; his gaze locked with hers. Arousal roared through her like a brush fire—consuming, overwhelming. She sucked in a sharp breath. How could this be, after what had just happened behind that rock? But then she realized that while he’d taken the edge off for her, she had not returned the favor. And he’d apparently gone through that transformation of his twice today. The sexual attraction that had always simmered between them had morphed into a blazing bonfire, especially for him.

Slowly he took her hand. She quivered as flesh met flesh, and he gently removed her hand from his shoulder, lowering it back to her side. His fingers lingered a moment longer than necessary. Then he broke contact.

“The effects of the Hunter are very powerful,” he said. “It’s better if we don’t touch for a while, unless you want to—”

“—do it in the road?” she finished.

He chuckled at the Beatles reference. “Yeah. Basically.”

“Gotcha. No touching.” She took an extra step away so their bodies wouldn’t accidentally brush against each other. “So, what’s the Hunter?”

He let out a sigh, then looked her straight in the eye. “Me.”

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

“You?” She waited a beat, then asked, “So is that your superhero name or something?”

He laughed, and the tension visibly left his body. He started walking again, and she fell into step beside him. “Sort of. It’s what it’s called. What I’m called. Hell, I don’t really know what to say about it. Except that it’s me, and not me. Maybe part of me.”

“Evil twin?” she quipped.

“Sure. Evil twin with superpowers.” He shook his head. “Look, I’m messing this up. I’ve never really had to explain this to anyone before.”

“Seriously?” It startled her—humbled her—that he was going to reveal secrets he’d never told anyone. “No ex-wife, fiancée, best friend?”

“No.” He tensed again, rolled his shoulders. “I haven’t been that close to anyone for a long time. Years.”

“Except your family. No, wait. You’re not on speaking terms.”

“Yeah. Listen, let me tell this from the beginning or else it’s going to get all messed up.”

“All right.” She could hear the stress in his voice. Had it been the mention of his family that had done it? For some reason, knowing he cared that much about the relatives he’d claimed to have cut out of his life, softened her lingering wariness. “You were saying you get your gifts from your mother.”

“Yeah. Well, this is going to sound crazy.”

“Crazier than everything else that’s happened over the past couple of days?” She laughed. “Go ahead, try me.”

“Just don’t make a run for it when I tell you this, okay? It’s the truth, I swear.”

“Just don’t tell me your mother is an alien from outer space.”

He chuckled. “No, but the truth is kind of close. My mother’s family is from Spain.”

“Shocking,” she teased. “Imagine, you grew up in the western United States and your family is from Spain. I’ve never heard of such a thing.”

“And before that, Atlantis.”

She hesitated in her stride, then picked up the pace again. “Atlantis, huh? I don’t suppose you mean the casino.”

“No, I mean the ancient city that supposedly sank thousands of years ago.”

“I see.”

He sighed. “This is what I’ve been told. My mother’s family is descended from the survivors of Atlantis. That’s where the powers come from. We’re Seers.”

“Seers, like seeing the future?”

“Some of us.”

“You saw that bomb exploding, didn’t you? Before it happened.”

“Yeah.” He hesitated. “I saw it the first day we met.”

She stopped. “You saw the bomb exploding the day we met? And you didn’t tell me?”

He halted as well. “Would you have believed me?”

She couldn’t pretend, even to herself. “No, probably not.”

“Well, then.” In unison, they began walking again. “Like I told you, sometimes I get flashes of things. It’s totally random.”

“That doesn’t seem fair.”

“It’s all right. It’s more like frosting on the cake. It’s not my main power.”

“You told me that. Your main power is finding people, you said. But you couldn’t find Danny.”

“That’s right. And I have no idea why.”

“Has this ever happened before? Have you ever not been able to find someone?”

“Never. Well, except for my own family. Our abilities don’t work on each other.”

“Oh, well that’s interesting.” She shook her head, a smile tugging at her lips. “I can’t believe I’m calmly talking to you about Atlantis and psychic abilities. I was never one to buy into that kind of stuff.”

“Sorry to burst your bubble, but it’s all real.”

“Yeah. Wow. My head is spinning just trying to wrap around all this.” She unscrewed the cap on her water, then took a sip and offered him the bottle. “So are there other people like you? You know, descendants of Atlantis? Besides your family.”