Unleashing the Storm (23 page)

He
watched her, his eyes bloodshot, the dark hollows beneath emphasizing his
fatigue.

“You’re
exhausted.” Letting her gaze linger on the angular planes of his face, she ran
her fingers through his hair, pushed it away from his forehead. “I’m so sorry.”

“This
is nothing. I’ve been through worse.”

“You’ve
been forced to have sex every three hours instead of four?”

A
smile quirked his mouth and she suddenly wanted very much to kiss him.
Impossible, she knew. Something told her that doing so would send him into
icy-distant mode.

“I
never thought I’d believe there was such a thing as too much sex. I’m sore as
hell.” His smile faded, and then he did withdraw from her body, leaving her
feeling empty. As he sat up next to her, he shook his head. “How do you deal
with it?”

She
reached for her underwear and pants. “It’s not horrible as long as I’ve got everything
planned out and mates arranged.”

Outside,
birds chirped, probably seeking their own mates, some for life. Regret and
sadness brushed her heart. A life mate and family was something Kira
desperately desired but could never have.

She
pulled on her clothes as Tom buttoned up, and then she drew up her knees and
wrapped her arms around them.

“It’s
when things go screwy that it gets bad.”

“Bad
how?”

Shifting
to avoid the sharp edge of a rock beneath her, she nibbled on her bottom lip,
unsure how much she should tell him. He hadn’t judged her so far, had been
nothing but accepting of everything he’d seen. What would he think when he knew
how bad things had been for her? Then again, it didn’t really matter. Once they
arrived at his agency, she might not see him again. He’d certainly made it
clear that he wouldn’t be the one servicing her.

“It’s
like a drug addiction. If prior arrangements aren’t made, then the moment I get
sex, I start thinking about how I’m going to get it again. I do things…I mean,
I’ve had to proposition strange guys in bars.”

Unable
to bear seeing a look of disgust on his face, she averted her gaze,
concentrated on the pine needle one of them had tracked inside. “Do you have
any idea how desperate I have to be to do that? To walk up to some stranger and
ask if he wants to screw me in the alley?” She shuddered. “At the time, it
doesn’t matter who they are or what I have to do. That’s how this affects me. I
just need it. Afterward, I feel dirty and sick.”

“You
shouldn’t. It’s not your fault.”

She
snorted. So easy for a man to say. “Tell that to the towns of Great Falls and
Albany and Jasper.”

“Is
one of those where you were jailed?”

“You
tell me. You seem to know my criminal record better than I do.”

“I
know your official record. I’m guessing the time you were raped in the jail
cell was strictly off the books.”

Nausea
bubbled up in her throat. “I wasn’t raped.”

“Bullshit.
You needed sex, and I’ll bet men lined up to take advantage of that.”

The
memory rattled around inside her skull, the same sound as cell bars being
shaken. She wanted to curl up in a ball at the thought of how she’d been
arrested for disturbing the peace in a bar where she’d gone to find someone to
service her. The interested man’s girlfriend had caught them and all hell had
broken loose. As a newcomer in the one-stoplight town, Kira had been the only
one to go to jail, and she’d nearly gone insane in the cell.

She’d
thrown herself against the bars, begged one of the officers for sex, had
degraded herself like never before or since.

“They
lined up—” dear God, they’d watched as each man took his turn “—but you know
what it’s like to be around me when it’s time. They couldn’t help it. And I
begged.”

His
curses blistered her ears. “Dammit, Kira, you needed one man. The rest of the
bastards had no business going near you. How many were there?”

“Four,”
she whispered, “but one only watched.”

Ice
spread through her insides. She’d pleaded for sex while they laughed, called
her a slut, whore—and worse. Eventually, her pheromones wore them down, and the
one who smelled like cigarettes and hot dogs shoved her face into the wall,
lifted her skirt and entered her. Afterward, she’d slid down the wall and sat
on her heels as she sobbed.

The
sound of the door squeaking open a few moments later had filled her with dread.
Then came footsteps, the clink of a belt buckle, the warm hand of the second
officer as he yanked her off the floor. She hadn’t needed him, had pleaded with
him to come back in four hours, but he’d hit her so hard her vision had blurred
for an hour. The third man followed, and they’d taken their turns all night. By
then, she hadn’t cared because she didn’t know how long she’d be locked up, and
she had to take every opportunity she could.

“They
let me go in the morning, early. Probably didn’t want the next shift to find
out what happened. When I got home, my house had been vandalized. The
girlfriend from the bar, I’m sure.” She sighed. “I packed a bag that morning
and hitched a ride to Idaho with a trucker who was more than happy to take sex
as payment.”

“Where
did this happen?”

“It
doesn’t matter.”

“Oh,
yes, it does,” he pressed, and the tone of his voice, low, edged and jagged
like the knife strapped to his thigh, made her shiver.

“I
just want to forget, Tom. Please. I know that sounds pathetic—”

“Fuck
that,” Tom muttered. “You’re so strong, Kira. What you went through would have
broken most people.”

“Strong?”
She shook her head. “There were times when I tried to go without sex, just to
let myself die. But I was weak. When the sickness and pain took over, I gave
in. I keep telling myself that if I die, no one will listen to the animals.
They won’t have a voice. I’m not sure if I’m being weak or selfish or both.”

“I’d
say neither.” Tom was silent for a long moment, and then he reached for what he
called his rucksack. “Have you always talked to animals?”

Oh,
she could have kissed him for diverting the conversation, but she knew the
subject wasn’t forgotten. Not for him. She wasn’t stupid enough to think he’d
seek justice for some chick who was nothing but a job to him, but she got the
impression that Tom Knight’s code of honor wouldn’t allow him to sit back and
ignore bad guys with badges.

“Since
birth. My parents said the day they brought me home from the hospital, the pets
gathered round and wouldn’t let me out of their sight.”

“Did
they think it was weird?” He handed her a granola bar, different from the
others they’d been eating, and she checked the ingredients for animal products
before she tore open the wrapper.

“At
first they thought God used animals to watch over me.”

“At
first?”

She
nodded. “They thought it was sweet how I ‘made up stories’ about the animals’
thoughts and stuff. Then, when the things I told them turned into things I
shouldn’t know, they suddenly didn’t think God had anything to do with it
anymore.”

“So
what, they thought you were possessed?”

“Sort
of.” She bit off a tiny corner of her granola bar and chewed slowly before
answering. “I grew up in the Bible Belt, where people think psychics get their
messages from the devil. My parents believe that I speak with Satan through
evil animals. I guess way back in my family tree, one of my great-grandparents
was burned as a witch for talking to animals, so of course I was a bad seed.”

“Must
have been fun around your house.”

She
laughed, because yeah, good times. Her parents had gotten rid of all the pets
by the time she was eleven, and her dad shot any stray that came near.

“It
was hell. Things really got bad when a neighbor’s dog escaped his chain, and
when I found him, he gave me an image of a dead body in a ditch. I was fifteen,
so I called the police. My parents threatened to kick me out of the house if I
told the cops how I knew about the body, but I couldn’t lie. The whole town
thought I was nuts.”

“Did
your parents kick you out?”

“Yeah.
I had to go live with a friend. And then things got really bad.”

“Worse
than your parents believing you rub elbows with Satan and the whole town
thinking you’re one bullet short of a magazine?”

“Your
tact astounds me.” His lips curved into a pleased smile, and she rolled her
eyes. “Yes, worse than that. I was sixteen. And the heat started. I didn’t
understand it, just knew I needed sex. So basically, after that, I was rubbing
elbows with the devil, crazy, the town slut.”

“What
happened?”

“My
friend’s family kicked me out of their house, and my parents wouldn’t take me
in. So I ran away, changed my name and never looked back.” Well, that wasn’t
entirely true. In a fit of loneliness, she’d contacted her only sibling, Peter,
a couple of years ago, but he’d told her that Charity Belle was dead to him and
to never call again. “In Memphis, a lady who trained drug-and bomb-sniffing
dogs took pity on me. Marcia. She was an animal whisperer too.”

Kira
picked at her granola bar while Tom started on his second protein bar. She had
no idea how many of the things he had in his bag, but she’d give him the merit
badge for preparedness, for sure.

“She’s
the person who taught you how to train police dogs?”

“Yes.
I took over her business when she died in a car accident.”

Marcia
had also introduced her to the radical animal-rights and anti-government groups
she’d joined. Aside from the yearly mating issues, her life had gone well until
her first arrest during an anti-fur protest. After that, strange things happened
whenever she was near, things she’d had no part in even though she’d been
blamed. Slaughterhouses had gone up in flames. Whaling boats sank. Research
labs had been vandalized.

Only
since Tom had come into her life had things started to make sense.

Someone
had been trying to flush her out. Maybe that enemy agency Derek had come from.

“Will
your agency be able to do something about all my arrest warrants?”

He
barked out a laugh. “Warrants? Kira, no official agency in the world will ever
touch you again. And if you want those cops who hurt you to pay, that can be
arranged too.”

“I
told you, I just want to forget it,” she said, and tried to make her voice more
upbeat, because she definitely didn’t want him to know how much the experience
still haunted her, how often she had nightmares about being locked up.

“Yeah,
I get that.”

She’d
just bet he did. He’d probably seen things during his career that would have
her wanting to never sleep again for fear of the dreams.

“When
we get to your agency, can I arrange for my farmhands to be found? I can’t
stand the thought of them…” She swallowed sickly, unable to say it.

“They
probably already sent a cleanup crew.”

Right,
because they’d need to get rid of the other bodies. The bad guys. “How long
have you worked for them?”

“It
feels like forever.” He arranged the mysterious stuff in his bag and placed his
ammo on top.

“And
what, exactly, do you do there?”

“Mostly,
I bring in special people like you.”

“Mostly?”

He
jammed the bag into a corner and moved toward the front of the tent. “Q and A
is over. I need to patrol. See if you can get some sleep.”

When
he started out, she grabbed his arm. “Be careful.” He nodded, and she added
softly, “And Tommy? I want you to know I believe you.”

“About
what?”

“Everything.
The bad guys. Derek. You said you wouldn’t hurt me, and that you’d keep me
safe. You have. Thank you.”

His
entire body went rigid, and then he slipped away. Outside, the birds stopped
chirping as though there was a predator in their midst.

It
took her a moment to realize the predator was Tom.

FRIDAY
8 P.M. EST

Something
was in the house.

Dev
got to the bottom of the stairs without incident, tripped over his own feet as
he walked into the den, where he spent most of his time when he was home. It
was the place he felt the safest. Unbeatable.

Standing,
he kept his back firmly against the wall to avoid any unwanted touches, and a
burst of cool air brushed his cheek. He put his palms over his face and the
touch ran up his bare forearms. He wondered how something could feel so
comforting and eerie at the same time.

“Are
you prepared to help me this time?” he demanded finally, yelled it to the
ceiling as he pushed off the wall and walked to the middle of the room. He
stood stock-still, fists clenched, body poised in fight-or-flight mode. Except
he wasn’t going anywhere. “Answer me!”

“Is
that any way to greet an old friend?”

Dev
turned toward the voice even as the sound slid down his spine in that achingly
familiar way and he cursed himself for not being able to drive certain weaknesses
out of his body. Even though he’d been expecting Oz, he hated that he was never
able to figure out where or when he’d show up.