True Nature (9 page)

He left in a rush, no doubt eager to change and run off his pent-up energy from the day. I prepared for bed and tried to dismiss the nagging thoughts that were skirting the edge of my brain. They made me nervous. I had noticed lately that my “intuition” had grown stronger; something was happening to make my perceptions of events more focused.

As I crawled into bed and pulled the sheet across my legs, I felt an immediate and strong sense of alarm. Closing my eyes, I focused on that and struggled to identify why I should be alarmed and Kinley’s face popped into my mind.

Kinley was in danger. I knew it as surely as I knew if I didn’t act now it would be fatal for her. I called her, but there was no answer.

Without pausing to consider what I was doing, I scrambled out of bed and dressed. In less than five minutes, I was headed out the door. I telephoned Hunter but cats don’t usually carry phones, I reminded myself.

I left a message telling him where I was going and why and told him to call the police if he didn’t hear from me soon.

Though lights were on everywhere, there was no sign of life at Kinley’s place. When I got no response to the doorbell, I headed to the back of the house. I crept forward until I could see the back stoop.

What I saw made me to fight to keep my dinner down. There was blood everywhere. A long spray covered the wall. Kinley lay in a crumpled heap at the bottom of the steps. When she moaned, I ran to her. Her face was a mangled mess, and her body was varying shades of blues and purples. She had been beaten relentlessly, and was barely breathing. What I couldn’t understand was how she was still alive.

I reached for my cell phone and heard something behind me. Before I could turn, I felt a horrible pain in the back of my head. I fell forward.

Chapter 6

“Wake up, lass.”

I tried to open my eyes, but my eyelids felt like lead. I could smell the outdoors; the air was cool and damp. Where was I?

I struggled to remember. Images flashed quickly. Fear. Had to get to Kinley. I felt like I was in the woods, but there were no woods around Kinley’s house. She lived in a subdivision. Need to help Kinley. Where is Kinley?

“That’s a girl. Come on now, wake up,” a deep voice urged.

The voice had a familiar Scottish burr, and as I finally forced my eyes open, I looked into the green eyes of Fraser MacRae, Hunter’s grandfather. Why was he with Kinley?

“Mr. MacRae?” My words came out as a hoarse whisper. I tried to clear my throat, but it made my head hurt too much.

“Come on, lass, let’s sit you up here.” His big arm came around my back and raised me to a sitting position. “I’ve only go’ a wee bit of time, and I need to tell you something, something very important.”

I leaned against him and concentrated on not passing out again.

“Listen, Zoe. Hunter’s very life depends on your ability to know what’s coming,” he said, his eyes boring into mine.

“I don’t understand.”

He picked up my hand. “You’ve got the sight, girl. You have to use it to help Hunter. It’s a gift, and it’s time for you to learn to work with it in a better manner.”

“The sight?”

“You call it your ‘women’s intuition’ or ‘gut instinct,’ but it’s the sight, the ability to see what’s coming, and it’s the one thing that will give Hunter an edge and keep him alive.” His voice filled with urgency. “Just as Hunter is strapped with the curse that hangs over our family, you’ve got the responsibility that came down through yours.”

I struggled to make sense of what he was saying, but it wasn’t easy. His voice softened. “Why did you go to Kinley’s house tonight?”

“She was in trouble and needed help.” My memory returned in a rush. In Kinley’s backyard, somebody had hit me and knocked me out.

I tried to look around again, but Mr. MacRae held me firm. “You can’t help Kinley now, but you can help Hunter. When you feel compelled to do something, you must listen to your inner voice. It’s a guide for you and Hunter. It will keep both of you alive. Do you understand?”

“Yes,” I said, thinking clearly at last. “Lately it has gotten stronger. I am able to focus on something once it enters my mind, and that makes it stronger.”

“That’s exactly what I mean, lass. You’re the key.” His voice thickened with anger. “Chymera, that’s what the goddamn monster Michael Killin calls himself now. He’s like us but not like us. You’ll learn soon enough.”

I recalled something about chimera from Greek mythology, about an animal that was more than one species, with a lion’s body and a dragon’s head or something like that.

“Killin is the other side of the coin in our history.” Mr. McRae never took his eyes from mine. “His mission is to destroy us, to wipe out entire families if possible.”

I focused hard on his words, knowing his message was vital.

“His family has a genetic problem and cannot shift properly. They’re a band of mutants, dedicated to eradicating shifters who live normally in our abnormal world. Every time we think we’ve got them under control, another one shows up.”

“They’re coming for Hunter.” I struggled with dizziness as the full impact of his words penetrated the fog.

He gripped my hand. “Promise you’ll keep him safe. Promise.”

“I promise. I promise.” I descended into another black hole. When I woke, I was cold and damp. I moved my head and moaned. Pain shot down my neck like searing heat.

“That’s it. Wake up, Sleeping Beauty.” The deep voice had no Scottish burr.

“Let me in here, Detective,” another voice chimed in.

My eyes opened. I jerked as a bright light sent a brief but violent burst of pain through my brain. I blinked and started to push up with my hands.

“Uh-huh, ma’am,” said the voice on my left. “I need you to stay put while I check things out.”

I assumed he was a paramedic as he deftly wrapped a blood pressure cuff around my arm and asked, “What’s your name?”

“Zoe Buchanan.”

“Good girl. Do you know what day it is, Zoe?”

I looked up at the starlit sky above me. “It’s night.”

“That’s true,” he said with a chuckle, “but what night is it?”

I struggled to remember. All I could think about was Hunter’s grandfather. I had talked to him. So strange for him to be here. But first there was Kinley.

“Kinley, where’s Kinley?” I asked, once again trying to get up. “What about the girls? Where are the girls?”

Both men held me down. I recognized Detective Mike Scala, who had questioned me about the body in the woods.

“There are people helping Kinley. We didn’t find any children here. The house is empty. You’ve got to stay down and let Joe here take care of you.”

I looked into intense blue eyes in a chiseled face framed by dark hair. The eyes were kind, but filled with determination. If I tried to get up, he would have no trouble stopping me.

“There was so much blood.” I closed my eyes as the scene flashed into my mind. “Oh, God, is Kinley dead?” When he didn’t answer, I groaned. I turned my head. “Oh my God,” I whispered.

Mike sighed. “She is. Why are you here?”

Joe removed the blood pressure cuff and examined my head. When he touched the tender place on the back, I flinched.

“I’m sorry, but I had to look at it. We’re going to get you on a stretcher and have you checked out at the hospital. Looks like you might need a couple of stitches too. Just stay right here for a minute.” He moved away and walked to the ambulance.

“Feel like talking to me, Zoe?” Mike said.

“I think so.”

“What did you see?”

I thought of Kinley’s legs bent at an odd angle, her face almost obliterated. “She was laying there like a little rag doll.”

Eric. Goddam bastard. He finally killed her.

This time when I tried to sit up, Detective Scala helped. I leaned into his shoulder and closed my eyes as my stomach rolled with nausea. He tightened his hold.

“It was her husband. Kinley’s husband—”

“You saw him?” Mike replied. “He hit you?”

“No, but—”

“Zoe! Zoe!”

I opened one eye and saw Hunter arguing with two uniformed officers. His features looked stark in the glowing red and blue lights of the police and emergency vehicles.

“Hunter is Kinley’s divorce attorney. Please let him through.”

Mike motioned to the cops. Hunter hurried over to kneel beside me.

“What happened?” He reached for me, but Mike wouldn’t let Hunter move me. I groaned and wished I didn’t feel so sick.

“Hold on, man,” Mike said. “We’re waiting for the paramedic to get back. Just take it easy.”

Hunter took my chin in his hand and turned my face to his. “What the hell happened?”

Against my best efforts, tears filled my eyes. “Kinley’s dead.”

“Ah, God.” Hunter winced. “I should have protected her.”

“Why?” Mike asked.

“Her asshole husband, Eric Russo.” Hunter put his hands on his knees. “She thought he was accepting the divorce, but he kept dropping in to remind her she was his wife until death. I guess he took care of that option.”

Mike started to say something but was interrupted by the paramedics and their stretcher. As they lifted me onto it, I felt sick again, and to my horror actually threw up. The paramedics cleaned me as well as they could with Mike and Hunter watching. How humiliating.

I’d seen lot of tough private eyes on TV come back from being hit in the head with no problem. I guess I need to work on my quick-recovery-from-being-knocked-out skills.

“We’re going to need her clothes,” Mike told the paramedics. “I’ll send somebody to the hospital or pick them up myself.”

“I’ll follow the ambulance,” Hunter said.

Mike grabbed his arm. “After I talk with you,” he told Hunter. “We need to discuss a murder. Again.”

“I’ll be there soon,” Hunter yelled as the doors to the ambulance slammed.

I wanted the luxury of unconsciousness. Between the nausea and the pain, I was sure this was going to be a bumpy ride.

Where’s Bette Davis when you need her?

For a moment I was afraid I was badly injured. Kinley was dead and the best I could do was come up with a line from an old movie.

Chapter 7

Hunter strode across the crowded ER waiting room toward the information desk. Family members and patients were creating chaos. When someone yelled his name, he saw his golfing buddy, Taylor Bradford, an ER physician, coming his way.

Taylor grasped Hunter’s hand for a hearty shake. “Zoe told me you were coming.”

“The damn detective kept me in a patrol car asking questions forever. I thought he was going to arrest me, but I finally escaped.” Hunter walked with Taylor back into the patient area. “Is Zoe all right?”

“She has a concussion, but she’ll be fine in a few days. I wanted to keep her overnight, but she said you’d stay with her,” Taylor said.

“Sure, sure, whatever she needs.” Hunter ran his hand through his already-disheveled hair. “I think we’re pretty lucky she wasn’t hurt any worse. She could have been killed too.”

“Zoe told me about Kinley,” the doctor said, shaking his head. “I treated Kinley a couple of times when Eric banged her up. He’s nothing but a damned bully. I begged her to go to a domestic violence group. She always said it was too embarrassing. I reported it, and they picked up Eric, but she never pressed charges.”

Hunter caught the eye of a nurse he’d gone out with a couple of times. She smiled and gave him a signal to call her. He smiled back and hoped he could remember her name after watching the police cart away the body of a client.

“I’m sure Eric killed Kinley,” Hunter said. “I told the detective as much.”

“No doubt.” Taylor pulled back a curtain to reveal Zoe with an ice pack on her head.

“Hey, gorgeous.” Hunter stooped to kiss Zoe’s cheek. “How are you?”

She gripped Hunter’s arm, her eyes filled with sorrow.

“I know,” he murmured, reading her mind. “There’s nothing you could have done. Kinley was gone before you got there.”

“Damn Eric,” Zoe muttered.

Taylor cleared his throat. “Hunter says he’ll stay with you tonight, Zoe. Otherwise, you’re not going home.”

“I promise to take care of her,” Hunter said. “Do I need to wake her up periodically?”

Taylor handed Hunter a sheet of instructions. “Just keep an eye on her. Give her Tylenol if she has a headache and use cold packs to reduce the swelling. If she seems worse, call me right away. Fortunately, she didn’t need stitches.”

Zoe pouted. “Hello, I’m right here and well enough to take my own instructions. I don’t need a babysitter.”

“Actually, you do,” Taylor said. “You got hit pretty hard. Let Hunter keep an eye on you. Stay home and rest tomorrow. You might want to stay away from work for a couple of days.”

Zoe made a noncommittal sound. Hunter could tell she was going to be a very bad patient.

“I’m glad you were here tonight,” she told Taylor.

He leaned down and gave her a quick peck on her cheek. “I’ll always be on call for you. Call me at home if you need me. I’ll get your papers processed so you can leave. I’m really sorry about Kinley, about all of this.”

“Thanks, man,” Hunter said as Taylor left.

Zoe removed the cold pack and sat up. “I feel like I was hit by a train.”

“Not exactly.” Hunter helped her sit up straighter. “Detective Scala thinks you were hit with a flashlight they found in the grass. It’s one of those big black ones like the cops—and most crooks—carry.”

“No wonder I’ve got a headache the size of Giants’ stadium.”

“Let’s hope that flashlight will have Eric’s fingerprints all over it.”

“Have they got him yet?”

Hunter grunted in disgust. “From what little the police let slip in front of me, the jack-ass was found at his mother’s house. The girls were spending the night over there with him.”

“Oh, my God.” Zoe jerked up and cringed. “Are they safe?”

“They were with Eric and his mother. The police have notified Kinley’s sister, Lydia. I made sure they understood that Kinley had designated Lydia as their guardian should anything happen.”

“But will that hold up? I mean, Eric’s mother—”

“Won’t put up a fight if she wants to have any relationship with those kids,” Hunter said. “Remember, it was Lydia who finally convinced Kinley to hire us in the first place. I bet she has those little girls in her arms right now. And I’m going to make sure Kinley’s wishes are honored.”