Turn to Darkness (Offspring 5.6) (12 page)
Read Turn to Darkness (Offspring 5.6) Online
Authors: Jaime Rush
Glen looked up when she walked in. “Must have been a hectic lunch break,” he said with a smile.
Damn, not exactly as normal. “Had to fit in a lot of errands.”
“If you need a couple of minutes to defrazzle, go ahead and take them. I know you’ve got a busy weekend.”
Glen and his wife Toni were great bosses, and even better people. The Tripps ran the store together. She was their only employee, running the storefront, handling calls and paperwork. She was good with numbers. They were stable, dependable, and impersonal. She liked working in small businesses where her employers wouldn’t be bothered as much by her erratic work history. That also meant settling for menial jobs that didn’t pay much.
Toni and the two grade-school Tripps came rushing in at mid-afternoon, as they did every weekday.
“Hey, Jessie!” the girls called as they gushed with enviable energy and innocence, dropping their backpacks on the floor. “Carnival’s tomorrow!”
Toni rolled her eyes as she picked up the packs, as she did every day, and set them behind the curved desk where Jessie worked.
“Yep! You gonna ride the scary rides?” Jessie asked, bending down to their level.
“Will you ride with us?”
“Sure.”
Both girls giggled and exchanged looks. “We might throw up, though,” they said in unison, more like twins than girls who were two years apart.
“Ewww!” Jessie said, pinching her nose. “Then definitely do not ride the scary rides. I’d be tossing my cookies right along with you.”
The girls commenced to making barfing noises until Toni shushed them. She set them on their homework just off the main desk. Jessie watched them asking their mom for help and felt a lump in her chest even as she smiled. When she was their age, she’d had a mom and dad, too. Thank God they didn’t know how tenuous life can be, how all that matters can be ripped away in minutes.
Five other children came in for guitar lessons, and Jessie entertained them until class started. For a few minutes no one was in the front room. Glen was in the repair shop in back and no customers wandered in. Her head still felt light, as though she hadn’t eaten for hours. She logged into the security software and clicked on the link for her system. It recorded any activity once it was triggered.
Her throat tightened at the sight of the man—Magnus’s brother—walking into her apartment. He wasn’t even creeping or sneaking, just walked in like he owned the place. Bastard. He looked around, taking pictures of a couple of pages in her notebook, walking to the doorway of her bedroom but not walking in.
The video quality wasn’t good enough to see fine details. She realized she’d hoped to see his face again. He had dark, thick hair that fell past his shoulders and brown eyes with an exotic slant to them. He was good-looking, yeah, even though she felt pretty stupid thinking of him that way when he’d broken into her home and manhandled her.
Where have I seen him before? Oh, yeah, here!
Right before she’d dashed home for lunch. He was stalking her! Her gaze went to the collection of signed pictures on the back wall. She remembered thinking he looked like one of those rockers from the eighties that Glen was so into, like Kip from Winger. The jerk probably followed her home.
Her attention went back to the monitor. She knew the moment the intruder heard her unlock the door; he ducked inside her bedroom doorway and waited for her. Even though she knew what would happen, watching it was odd, surreal, and scary. She didn’t have this security system the last time she’d gotten a surprise visit.
She watched their fight.
I fought pretty damned good. Not good enough, though.
He pinned her with his body, and she could feel all that muscle and hardness again, crushing her. Especially
that
hardness, which had thrown her, because she’d thought for sure he was connected to Russell, and the man’s erection signified a different threat.
But he wasn’t there for that.
Thank you, God.
She glanced around to make sure no one had come in; she was engrossed enough to have missed it. Then she turned back to the screen. As her fear and anger had heightened, a smoky aura formed around her. But . . . there was something around
him
, too; not smoky, but a blurry form.
What the heck?
She paused the frame. Even studying him she couldn’t make it out. That nothing else had the same blur meant it was attached to him. Either he also had Darkness, or he was some other kind of weird. No matter, he was bad news.
Her abilities had taken the man off-guard. If he, or Magnus, were working with Russell, they would have been prepared. She would be dead. The supposed brother claimed he’d had a vision of her killing Magnus. That was all he seemed concerned about, wanting to know why.
When she continued the video, it hit her: she would see her Darkness for the first time. She steeled herself as she watched the black mass that threw him across the room.
Me, but not me. It just took over; I had no control over it.
She shivered and closed the program. What if the whole seeing-a-vision thing was true? Darkness could kill. Could she?
She picked up her cell phone and called Magnus.
Please let me go to voice mail.
Relief when his deep voice said, “ ’Lo, this is Magnus’s phone. I hate that I missed your call. Don’t make me hunt through the call log. Leave a message.” Both men had a Scottish brogue to their voices. Magnus had told her he was born in the U.S. but got the brogue from his Scottish mother.
“Hi, it’s Jessie,” she said. “You’re off the hook for tonight. I don’t need any help with the carnival, and . . . I can’t see you socially anymore. My life is too complicated in ways I can’t explain. Take care of yourself.”
Her mouth stretched into a frown. It wasn’t like they’d done more than chat at the store, have a cup of coffee, and meet for lunch once. He’d kissed her cheek when he walked her back to the music store and said goodbye. She’d had the sense that he wanted to kiss her on the mouth, though, as his lips had lingered against her skin for a few moments. He probably would have, if the sensible part of her hadn’t made her turn at the last second. She’d wanted the kiss, because she wanted to feel like the women in the romance novels she devoured, just for a little while . . .
You knew better. Why bother starting a flirtation when you’re going to have to back away if it goes any further? Russell’s going to find you eventually. You’re either going to die or run again. No place for a man in that mess of a life.
Yeah . . . complicated. With a sigh, she deleted Magnus’s number from her contacts list.
Since she was a kid, JAIME RUSH devoured books on unexplained mysteries and psychic phenomena. She
knew
she would be published, marry a fabulous guy, and win a Toyota Supra. Missing the romance, relationship drama, and action of her favorite television shows—
The X-Files
,
Roswell
, and
Highlander
—she created her own mix in the Offspring series.
Jaime loves to hear from readers (unless they’re deranged or don’t have something nice to say). You can reach her at PO Box 10622, Naples, Florida 34101, or through her website at www.jaimerush.com.
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Read on for a sneak peek at three brand-new
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A
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F
EVER
N
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By Alice Gaines
NINE LIVES OF AN URBAN PANTHER
By Amanda Arista
By Kristin Miller
An Excerpt from
A
C
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F
EVER
N
OVELLA
by Alice Gaines
Gayle and Nolan have been professional rivals for years. But now, stuck together out in the wild, these two scientists will discover that there’s a fine line between feuding and foreplay. The competition
really
heats up when their research on animal mating habits moves from theory to practice . . .
AN AVON RED NOVELLA
T
he four-wheel drive monstrosity came over the crest of the hill with a growl of gears and headed down the path toward the cabin, bringing Gayle Richards’s worst nightmare with it. Professor Nolan Hersch didn’t drive any old SUV to research sites, like normal people did. No, he had to command something hypermacho, a vehicle one might pilot out into the bush to harass lions.
The trees had stopped dripping after the recent early fall rain, but the ground remained damp, and the ferns drooped with moisture. The redwood duff, which in summer had consisted of a fine powder that coated everything that touched the ground, now made an equally fine mud. Hersch’s vehicle followed the path her own tires had made until he pulled up in front of the cabin and turned off the engine.
Dressed in khakis and with his sandy hair attractively tousled, he resembled a big game hunter more than what he was—an evolutionary biologist with an ego almost as big as his reputation. She instinctively took a step backward as he climbed out. She would have wrapped her arms around her ribs, too, but he’d recognize that as a defensive gesture, so she let them hang by her sides.
He gave her his usual killer smile—perfect teeth and all—and extended his hand. “Professor Richards.”
She gave him her own hand and shook firmly. Businesslike. Assertive. “Welcome, Professor Hersch.”
Somehow, despite Northern California’s notorious fog, his arms were tanned and covered with bleached golden hairs that set off the silver band of his heavy watch. His wrist made hers appear tiny as his hand engulfed hers. Appealing and intimidating all at once. When she’d satisfied the bounds of collegiality—and stopped staring at his skin—she pulled back.
“Good of you to have me,” he said. “I enjoyed your last paper.”
Oh he had, had he? Despite the fact that it blew a hole the size of his SUV through his own last journal article? Courtesy would suggest she compliment his work in return. She didn’t.
He put his hands on his hips and glanced up at the cabin, which gave her a view of his Adam’s apple and the gap of his shirt where he’d opened the top two buttons to reveal more tanned skin.
“Good-looking facility,” he said.
“Room for four,” she answered. “Where are the others, by the way?”
“There’s a road washed out back a few miles. I barely made it through,” he said. “Dave and Susan should make it here in a couple of days.”
“Days?” she repeated. She’d arranged for four researchers on this trip. She’d written that specifically into the grant proposal. She might need this man’s collaboration on her research to win herself more visibility in her field and therefore more advancement at her university, but she sure as hell hadn’t arranged a vacation for the two of them. Especially not one that involved watching large animals having sex.
Elk might not be closely related to humans, but the males had penises and they did the deed doggie style, with a lot of grunting and snorting. So no, she hadn’t planned on watching animal porn alone with Nolan Hersch.
“Something wrong?” he asked.
“There’s a lot of work,” she said. “There’s supposed to be four of us.”
“It’s only a few days,” he said. “The mating season will last longer than that.”
“I know how long mating season is,” she said. “I just didn’t think . . . you and I . . .”
Oh, brother. That wasn’t a sentence she could finish anytime soon, if ever. She wouldn’t tell him about where her mind wandered during his presentations at conferences. She wouldn’t mention her delusions that every time he mentioned receptive females his gaze lingered on her. She wouldn’t share the fact that every time he turned to a chalkboard she rememorized the curve of his ass.
Just because she didn’t bring any of those things up didn’t prevent him from watching her whenever she became uncomfortable in his presence. Like right now. There was that pleasant expression—the half smile—that did little to hide the fact that he was assessing her with as much care as he used in studying his research subjects.
She lifted her chin and smiled right back. “I guess we have enough supplies.”
He gestured with his head toward his SUV. “I have more than enough for myself. We can share.”
“No need. I’m well stocked. Come on inside.” She turned and climbed the stairs to the cabin. Because he still had to unload his things, it would take him a while to follow, and she could catch a breath before having to allow Nolan Hersch into her space. She’d spent the last two days alternating between steeling herself for his arrival and telling herself it was no big deal.
The others were supposed to come with him. His two graduate students would have acted like a buffer, always underfoot, always between them. She wouldn’t have had to imagine him alone in the next bedroom because he’d have a roommate, as would she. And when he spouted some bit of sexist bullshit from his research, she’d have support from at least one other woman. Alone, she’d end up wanting to tear him apart one way or another in an hour. Two, tops.
She went to the kitchen area of the cabin, poured herself a glass of water from the tap, and turned to lean against the counter to drink it. After a minute or two, Hersch entered with more than enough stuff for a season in the field. He needed several trips to haul it all in. Among the boxes and cases stood one of those canvas carriers wine stores sold. The necks of six bottles stuck out the top.