Visions of Fire and Ice (The Petiri) (15 page)

A sound caught her attention, and she looked up. Three boys stood in front of her. No, not boys. They were older than that. Maybe college age. But they didn’t dress like they were in college.

“Lookie what we got here,” said one. He licked greasy lips and glared at her with hungry eyes.

“Yeah, I think she looks mighty tasty. Whatcha think? Are you game for a little fun, little girl?”

Tamara stepped back. Fear trickled through her body, slowly. They each wore faded, ripped jeans and dirty t-shirts with obscene language on it. Fingerless leather gloves that reminded her of the gangs on television covered their hands. One pulled out a Leatherman and flicked it open one handed, the blade spinning into place. These were not boys out hiding a cigarette from their mom. They were men looking for trouble.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to be rude and get in your way. I’ll just be going now.” She turned, only to have one grab her arm. She glanced down. Dirty fingernails dug into her arm. Fear clutched her heart.

He threw her back against the wall, her head cracked into the brick, her eyes stinging as her ears rang. She screwed up her eyes, terror stealing her ability to flee.

“Excuse me, boys,” said a low voice. “I think you better be on your way.”

Relief poured over Tamara. The hand on her arm dropped as though he’d been burned, and the three took off at a dead run. Puzzled, she turned her eyes to her savior. Only what she saw in his eyes was not safety.

Tamara’s heart pounded against her ribs. Terror ripped through her, and every muscle stiffened.
Run
! Fear revved up the adrenaline, fight or flight, her body screamed. She shoved hard at the wall of muscle before her and was surprised to see it step back.

Ramose. Oh, God, it was Ramose.

He stared at her, shock filling his expression.

Gasping for breath, Tamara sidestepped. Darkness clouded her vision, and claustrophobia inched inside. An alley. Damn. No wonder she’d freaked. She struggled to catch her breath.

Heat flooded her cheeks, and she peered toward the man she’d seconds before ached to have touch her. The one she’d kissed with complete abandon.

He stood, still and hard as granite. No emotion. No anger. Yet a fire of red and yellow fluttered around him. An aura filled with anger and confusion.

“I’m....” What did you say to someone after you made a fool of yourself? “Sorry,” she finished, her voice lame.

“Come,” he snarled. He moved toward her. Instinct pushed her back a step.

Anger darkened in his face, and he dropped his outstretched hand. “Come,” he said again, and, again, she could sense his anger.
Damn it
. She could understand him being confused, but what right did he have to be angry? It wasn’t him pressed against a hard brick wall. It wasn’t him fighting the memories of a destroyed childhood.

Tamara brushed past him and rushed toward the car.

* * * *

Amunkha stepped from the shadows as the two lovers disappeared from sight, their bodies stiff where moments ago they had been intertwined as one. Amunkha grinned.

He inhaled. Ah, sweet terror, laced with the light scent of her feminine arousal. His eyes fluttered closed, relishing the combination of smells. His body hardened, hungry to touch her flesh, to breathe in her fear as she screamed, her body flinching from his. Now he knew he wouldn’t even have to hurt her. Not at first.

He pressed his palm to the sharp edges of the wall. Heat still infused the brick where her body had rested. Amunkha bit back a moan of satisfaction.

Lovely. He could play with her for many hours, feeding, enjoying. Lavishing his attentions on the woman Ramose so wanted. Her pain and fear would be delicious.

Amunkha remembered the sudden flash of hurt hiding in the Petiri’s eyes when the human had fought him. This was going to be the most fun he’d had in thousands of years.

But, first, he needed a little more strength. Just in case.

There was another. Amunkha fought the giggle rising in his throat. One other.

Chapter Fifteen

An uneasy silence filled the car. Ramose stared through his lashes at the woman in the backseat with him. She didn’t sit beside him the way she had on the way to the market. No, she pressed her body against the door, as far away as she could, as though she feared even the slightest touch. A touch she obviously did not like.

Perhaps she too worried about the fire and ice together. Or was it something deeper? He wasn’t so out of practice that he couldn’t tell when a woman wanted to be kissed. Hell, she was more than willing. Yet, now, she looked like a terrified child, her face, and her eyes wide, almost as though in shock.

“Did I hurt you?” He knew he hadn’t, but what else could he ask? Did she fear him? Did she hate him? He wouldn’t lay his heart out like that. He knew what fear was. He’d lived it. Fear had destroyed the one other human female in his life, and, with that fear, she’d nearly destroyed him.

But he didn’t understand. Her response to him was just like it had been in his dreams as a young man. Hot, hungry, wanton. The instant her body had pressed against him, she’d wiggled, burrowing closer, her hands wrapping around his neck, drawing him in.

Then it had all changed.

As though he’d flipped a switch he didn’t know existed.

She’d turned feral, fighting, hitting him, panting. Thank heaven she hadn’t screamed, at least. Ramose tightened his fists on his knee.

“Well?”

“I’m sorry,” she whispered. “It’s not you…”

“Did I hurt you?” he repeated. He should just let it go, but the years of loneliness refused to allow it. She was his
Kha-Ib
. The other half of his heart. And yet she sat across the car, her body trembling in fear

She closed her eyes, but shook her head. Her hands were tucked under her legs, as though hiding them from his view. She looked…pitiful.

“Talk to me.”

Her sigh was just as bad as her posture. Beaten. Disgusted. Humiliated. A small part of Ramose wanted to say “forget it,” but he couldn’t. She’d wanted him, and now she was afraid of him.
Just like…no. Not like her
. Worse. At least, his wife had had reason to fear. Tamara didn’t. Yet.

“I just,” she began, “can’t talk about it.”

Ramose noticed Jakkar watching from the mirror. Ramose was as humiliated as she.

Ramose growled in frustration. “If I didn’t hurt you, what happened?”

Her head fell forward, soft brown hair falling forward, but not before Ramose saw the tears leaking from the corner of her eyes. There was no flash of power, no blue or gold to spark at him in frustration. There was only pain.
Damn
.

His first instinct was to take her in his arms, but that was what got them to this point in the first place. They rode in silence for several minutes. At last, she moved her hands to her lap, her fingers clenched together. Her breathing eased, and the fear appeared to recede. Her posture relaxed almost imperceptibly.

Relief rushed through his blood. Thank the gods. She at least wasn’t going to stay curled in a ball all the way to her hotel. He wasn’t about to let her slam the door in his face. Not now. Not when he’d waited for her for so long. His hands itched to pull her to him, to comfort the ache he saw in her face. But it was those hands which had terrified her, and he wasn’t about to try again. Not yet.

“You can trust me. I won’t hurt you.”

Her shoulders squared, and her confidence seemed to ease back into place. With a subtle squirm, she pushed herself away from the door and removed her hands from beneath her. A twinkle of something else appeared in her eyes. Strength maybe?

She opened her mouth as though to speak, and then froze, her face going even more pale.

By the gods, what had he done now?

Something inside her gaze told him it wasn’t him she was staring at. Instead, she appeared to be staring into space. He’d seen that look, years ago. His sister had the ability to foretell the future in rare instances. Tamara had that look about her face.

An instant before he reached for her, hoping to shake her out of her vision, she screamed.

“Julie!”

Jakkar jerked on the wheel, and Ramose toppled to the side. He used his natural talent of speed to right himself, and he took Tamara’s hand. Her small, cold fingers trembled within his palm.

“What is it?” asked Ramose.

“Julie! Oh, God. Jakkar, drive fast. The hotel. She’s hurt.”

His
Kha-Ib
scooted forward, sliding to the center of the seat, anxiously looking down the road.

“
Hurry
.”

Ramose heard the command in his head, and he wondered if she even realized what she’d done. “Tamara, how do you know—”

“Because I can sense her,” she interrupted him. “She’s my cousin. We’ve lived together most of our lives. We share…visions,” she finished. “I’ll explain later. Just get me to her.”

With a quick look in the mirror, Ramose gave a curt nod, and Jakkar accelerated, weaving in and out of the traffic, moving as quickly as he could.

By the time they reached the hotel, an ambulance was loading a patient inside.

Tamara jerked open the door and charged out while the tires still squealed to a stop.

“Tamara, wait,” shouted Ramose.

She ignored him. In an instant, he was on her trail, rushing past her. His height gave them an advantage, the shorter locals stepping aside when they saw him. At last, they reached the patient’s side. It was Julie, Tamara’s cousin. Her face was white with pain.

“Julie, I’m here.”

“Jeff,” the injured woman moaned.

“I’m here, baby,” Jeff whispered.

“Someone pushed…”

“I know, Julie,” Tamara smoothed her hair. “Just rest.” Tamara glanced around, and Ramose saw the frantic fear in her eyes.

“Where are you taking her?” she asked the ambulance driver.

“To the local clinic.”

“No,” growled Ramose. “You’ll take her to International Hospital.”

“I can’t,” argued the man, still in English, probably for Tamara and Julie’s sake.

While they argued, another sheet was laid over Julie’s now shivering body.

“You’ll take her to International, and I shall handle the consult. If there are any problems,” Ramose grabbed a card from his hip pocket, “have them call me. This woman will have the best treatment. We will follow behind.”

The attendant glanced at the card, his eyes widening. He stood straight and nodded. “Yes, sir. Right away.”

As the man got to work, ready to load Julie into the back of the ambulance, he drew Tamara back, giving them room.

“We’ll be right behind you,” Tamara cried.

She came willingly as he guided her back to the car. Jeff climbed into the back of the ambulance with his wife. As the vehicle drove off, fully loaded, Jakkar steered the BMW into the road behind it.

“I shouldn’t have left her,” she whispered, tears in her eyes

“You couldn’t have known.” Ramose pulled her close. To hell with that earlier fear, she needed him, and he would be there.

“She’s all alone,” she complained.

“She has her husband.”

“But he couldn’t save her. I could have saved her.”

“From what? From what I could see, it was an accident. She stepped in front of car, Tamara. The drivers here aren’t like from where you come from. They’ll hit anyone—”

“She didn’t step in front of a car, Ramose.” Her voice hardened. “She was pushed. I felt it. I saw it. Someone pushed her in front of that car, right into that busy street.”

Chapter Sixteen

Tamara stared at the setting sun through the hospital suite window. Hospital officials had offered Ramose a special hotel style waiting room a few floors above the surgical unit. It wasn’t warm and homey, but, then again, what did you expect in a hospital? Jeff remained outside the surgical unit waiting for word, refusing to leave the family area, no matter what the hospital offered.

“This is my fault,” she murmured aloud.

Cool hands wrapped around her shoulders. “You know that’s not true.”

His touch pushed the fire away, easing the almost constant burning of her body. After years of heat, it was wonderful to feel the soft chill. And his hands were comforting. Comfort she didn’t deserve. She wrenched from his touch. “You don’t understand, Ramose. I should have been there. I’ve always been there for her, protected her. I could have at least warned her.”

Ramose studied her, and she knew he was confused. He probably thought she was still hiding from him like she did after the alley.

Tamara dropped onto the sofa, her head in her hands.

“Remember when I said our family all have their own talents? Their own metaphysical gifts?”

He nodded. Silent. Waiting.

“Julie’s is precognition. She can see the future.”

“I understand—”

She shook her head, holding up a hand. “No, it doesn’t work that way. Let me finish.”

“Doesn’t work what way?” Ramose sat on the foot of the double bed.

She glared at him. In a way, it was strange talking to people who didn’t stare at you as if you were a freak when you talked about precognition. She was so used to explaining things she’d jumped to a conclusion. “She can see the future, sometimes, it’s clear, other times, it’s fuzzy, but her future is always blurry. The only thing I ever remember being clear for her own life was the knowledge that she would meet Jeff. She knew he would be with us on this trip when we planned it.”

Ramose smiled. “It’s not uncommon for someone to have difficulty reading their own selves, Tamara. Their own emotions are always in the way.”

“I know.” Tamara jumped up, her feet demanding she move. She paced the small hotel room. “But I’ve always been there for her, helped her decipher what was happening.”

“And this time you were with me, instead?”

She bit her lip, nodding. “Yes, kind of. I mean, Jeff was there and all, but he’s new to this stuff. He doesn’t know the signs to watch for. She probably knew the push was coming, but not when, or knew there was danger, but not what.”

“Did you sense this danger when you were with me, when I was touching you?”