Page 16
Story: Samael
Fifteen minutes later, two dozen muffins—six of which were chocolate chip, despite his objections—six apple Danishes, and a dozen cinnamon rolls sat in crisp white boxes at Adrianne’s feet as they pulled into the park she’d directed him to on the opposite side of town. She hadn’t said much on the way here, and he hadn’t pushed.
Several picnic tables sat beneath mature trees offering a shaded place to sit. A children’s playground, complete with swings and climbing areas, was visible on the opposite side of the grassy field. It wasn’t a large park, but it was a place parents could bring children, teenagers could hang out, or families could enjoy an afternoon.
“Thanks for this. I’d rather not face questions, especially since I don’t have answers.” She grabbed the cardboard tray with their coffee and climbed out of the truck.
“I’ll get the boxes.” Leaving her to pick out a table, he went to her side of the vehicle.
There was no one visible, and a quick check with his enhanced senses ensured they were alone, other than the birds and local wildlife. She’d chosen a brightly painted blue table under a majestic oak. Rather than sit beside her, he slid onto the bench seat across from her and set the boxes on the table.
Her lips twitched. “Think we’ll eat all that?”
“The chocolate chip muffins are safe from me.”
She shrugged and pried the lid off her coffee. “Your loss, more for me.” Opening the top box, she pulled out a muffin, peeled back the paper, and took a bite. “Perfection.” She licked some chocolate off her bottom lip.
He might have to rethink his stance on chocolate chip muffins. He wouldn’t mind licking chocolate off her lips. Opening the second box, he chose an apple Danish. The pasty was crisp and golden, the filling flavorful. Not too sweet, with the perfect amount of cinnamon. “It’s good.”
“Georgia always had a flair for baking. I’d heard she was doing the pies for Susie’s and stocking some cookies at the gas station and convenience store. I’m glad she’s opened her own place.”
Hearing her talk to the other woman, making plans for a future that would never happen, had been a grim reminder of his purpose. “She seems nice.”
Adrianne grabbed one of the napkins she’d stuffed in the tray with the drinks and wiped her hands. “She is. Tell me more about yourself.”
He barely caught himself before he stiffened. The abrupt change of topic made his inner radar ping. “What do you want to know?” And why now?
She pointed a finger at him. “You practically know my life’s story, but besides the basics, you’re a mystery man.” She tore strips off the paper napkin before crumpling the pieces into a ball. “Why live in a hotel? Why not buy a house?”
“I wasn’t sure how long I was going to stay.” He’d already been there longer than he’d originally planned. “I’ve moved around a lot over the years for work.”
“And you work with your father?”
“Family business.” None of it was a lie, but for the first time, he wished he could tell someone the truth. Not that she’d believe him. If she did, he’d become a monster in her eyes, someone to fear even more than her stalker.
She made a sound of frustration. “If you don’t want to talk about it, fine.” Her fingers gripped her cup so tight it buckled. Coffee sloshed over the edges. “Damn it.” Grabbing more napkins, she cleaned the mess from her hands.
“I have two brothers.” He clamped his mouth shut, shocked by the outburst. He never willingly shared personal information. He weighed every word, offering only what was necessary. It came as natural to him as breathing.
She slowed the rubbing motion. “Older or younger?”
There was no backtracking, and strangely enough, he didn’t want to. “Younger. I’m the oldest.” He downed half his drink, his throat suddenly dry. “Alexiares is next and then Kieran—Alex and Kier.”
“Your parents really have a thing for unusual names. I like it. Are they both in the family business?”
“There’s no escaping it.” It wasn’t like a human job. It was a birthright, a legacy, a calling.
“I guess a lot of families are like that, expecting their kids to be doctors or lawyers or”—she gave a laugh—“farmers. My granny and grandpa always encouraged me to spread my wings. They wanted me to follow my passion, so if I chose the farm, it would be because I wanted it. I took neither route, picking the safe path into business rather than follow my passion, but that’s on me, not them.”
Her wistful regret made his chest tighten. He had no idea what her passion was, and that was for the best. He was already too involved in her life. “Wise people, your grandparents.” What would it be like to have a choice? To not have your future laid out before you before you were born? For all his power and immortality, she’d had more choice in her future than he’d had in his.
“Not an option for you, I take it.” Her brown eyes softened.
“I’ve traveled the world, seen things most people never see. Have more money than I’ll ever spend.” The last thing he wanted or needed was her pity. He was more powerful than she could ever imagine.
“What about happiness?” The soft question lashed him to the bone.
His laugh sounded bitter. “What is happiness? From what I’ve observed, most people search their whole lives and find small pockets of it, if they’re fortunate. Mostly, it’s drudgery and worry along with bitterness and anger, mixed with a good dose of envy. The strong survive, and the weak are ground under their boots.” It’d been that way since the dawn of mankind.
She wrinkled her nose and peered up at a blue jay that landed on a branch above them. It squawked and eyed the boxes of treats. “That’s a cynical take on the world.”
He viewed it as honest. “Can you say you’ve been happy?” It wasn’t a fair question considering her situation, but it stung to see the flash of pity on her face.
“I had a wonderful childhood. We didn’t have much money for extras and worked hard, but there was such love and laughter in that small house.” On a sigh, she drained the last of her coffee. “My problem was assuming I’d find that happiness wherever I went. I was wrong. It wasn’t the place or the money or the job, it was the people. I didn’t realize what I had until it was gone. Then I was too proud to admit I’d made a mistake and go home with my tail between my legs.”
Her insights weren’t surprising. Adrianne had proven to be perceptive and self-aware. Many people went their entire lives constantly craving more to fill the emptiness, not understanding they had to look inside to find what they were searching for. His problem was there was a void inside him waiting to swallow him whole if he peered too closely. He had no doubt many people felt the same.
“Are you close to your brothers?”
A jolt of pain pierced his heart, the sadness unexpected and sharp. “Not as much as I used to be.” Maybe she was right about the people being the only important thing in life. Everything else he’d tried had left him empty and unfulfilled. Now that his days were no longer overflowing with personal and business demands, he was forced to come to terms with his existence. And it wasn’t pretty.
Once he was done in Redemption, he’d reach out to his brothers and reconnect—assuming they were interested. They’d built lives of their own that didn’t include him.
She reached across the table and took his hand, her grip strong from hours of physical labor. Her nails were clean and cut short. Calluses edged the tips of several fingers. “If you love them, call them. I thought I’d have more time with Grandpa and Granny, but it ran out. Trust me when I tell you life is short.”
Caw! The large black crow—his father’s messenger—swooped low, passing a few feet overhead before perching on a nearby limb. The blue jay fled in a burst of color. Sam’s blood ran cold. A death knell rang in the depths of his soul. The message was as clear as if it was written in the sky above. The end was coming for Adrianne, and it was coming today.
“What in the world?” When she started to pull away, he held her hand tight.
“Adrianne.” Before he could decide what to say, another crow joined Malaki. Then another and another until a murder of crows—a fitting name for a group of them—ranged overhead.
“I’ve never seen crows act this way before. Let’s go before they dive-bomb us for food.”
Caw! He glared at Malaki. The warning was loud and clear and unnecessary. He’d do his job the way he always did. Interference wouldn’t be tolerated. Failure to do so would result in his exile in Shadowland for eternity.
Clouds rolled over the sun. Shadows circled their long, bony fingers around him. Fury bubbled inside him, like lava buried deep underground, waiting to erupt and spew molten terror over the unsuspecting world around it.
“Sam, are you okay?” Adrianne glanced uneasily at the sky.
Damn it, his mood was affecting the weather. With sheer willpower, he forced his emotions deep within and slammed the mental door on them. For the first time, the barrier buckled. It should have terrified him—there was no telling what kind of hell on earth he might unleash if they ever slipped out of his control—but he no longer cared.
Let me get through today.
Taking a calming breath, he gave her hand a reassuring squeeze. The clouds immediately parted, and sunlight speared through the branches, creating intricate patterns on the ground. “I’m fine. My brothers would like you.” He knew it was true even as he cursed himself for saying it. He might not have spent much time with them over the past decades, but he understood them in a way no one else ever would.
Their bond might stretch, but it would never break.
He prayed he was right. He’d need them after this was over.
Assuming I survive.
The dark whisper seemed to come out of nowhere, but he accepted the truth of it. Damn it, he’d survive. The only person tougher than him was the Grim Reaper himself. He’d been raised at Death’s knee and would not falter.
With the light glinting off her runaway curls, her lips curved into a smile, and her eyes reflecting genuine pleasure, time stopped, and Adrianne became the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen, mocking his confidence. “I’m sure I’d like them, too.”
She’d never get a chance to find out. Destiny was a runaway train about to barrel into them. The muscles of his throat tightened against the scream threatening to rip free. It was the worst kind of torture to know what was coming but to be unable to change it.
This is not about you , he reminded himself. This was about Adrianne. He couldn’t save her, but he could do everything within his power to make her final day on this earth the best one possible.
Feeling every one of the millennia he’d lived, he stood and held out his hand. “Let’s head home.”
…
Adrianne glanced at Sam as she drove them back to the farm. He’d handed over the keys without her having to ask. Something had happened in the park. She couldn’t quite put her finger on it.
He’d opened up, sharing personal details, yet seemed more distant than ever. It surprised her that he’d told her about his brothers. Sam was the most guarded person she’d ever encountered.
He protected his privacy like a miser would a fortune.
She glanced in the rearview mirror, half expecting the flock of crows to be chasing them. Talk about a scene out of an Alfred Hitchcock movie. Logic said they’d come searching for food either because people fed them or they’d pick at remnants left behind at the park, but it was still creepy. That the clouds had chosen that exact moment to cover the sun had only added to it.
Both of those incidents paled beside Sam’s change. It had to be a trick of the light, but for a split second, it was like watching a stranger. The austere lines of his face had sharpened, making him appear harder, almost cruel. His eyes, black as midnight, had flashed red in some trick of the sun, as if backlit by some internal light. In that moment, she’d been afraid.
The oddest part was the fear wasn’t for her but for him. Whatever inner demons he was battling, they were taking their toll. She had so many questions about his father. The fact that he hadn’t talked about him was telling. His voice had warmed when he’d spoken of his brothers. Whatever his relationship to his family, it wasn’t her place to pry, not when it hurt him.
They hadn’t spent a lot of time together, but she was coming to know him. He withdrew from strong emotion, burying it beneath a mask of indifference. It wasn’t a healthy way to live—not that she was in any position to criticize. She’d buried her head in the sand for years rather than admit she’d made a mistake. Pride was a powerful motivating force. It could also be a destructive one if not tempered.
Gripping the wheel, she decided they were both on edge. No surprise. Neither of them had slept well. They were dealing with stressful issues that hugely impacted their lives. They could use a quiet afternoon, maybe a nap, followed by a good meal.
A single police car remained when she pulled up in front of the house. Lost in her thoughts, she’d forgotten to stop at the station to drop off the bakery offering. She’d give it to whoever was here.
Determined to lighten the mood, she offered a smile. “If you need to do anything in town, I’m sure whoever is still here will give you a ride.” It was presumptuous of her to assume he planned on spending the rest of the day with her.
He shot her a dark look and exited the vehicle, grabbing the boxes as he went.
So much for lightening the vibe. If anything, she’d made it worse. Huffing out a breath, she glared at his broad back as he headed toward the house. The chief opened the door before they got there.
“I was getting ready to lock up and leave.”
It was slightly cooler inside, the sun not having quite made it to this side of the house. She bent down and gave Chester an absent pat as the cat rubbed against her legs. “Are you done?”
He nodded, waving them to the kitchen. “Let’s have a seat.”
“These are for you and the other officers.” She took the boxes from Sam and placed them on the table in front of him. “A small way of thanking you for your care.” She slid onto the bench seat, wanting this done so she could begin to put the house back in order. Rather than sit, Sam leaned against the kitchen counter, arms crossed, expression closed.
“It’s not necessary, but the boys sure will appreciate it.” Chief Johnson smoothed the sides of his handlebar mustache. “There were no fingerprints on the windowsill. None on the note, either.”
She nodded, not surprised. When Chester jumped up alongside her, she pulled his hefty body onto her lap. He purred and butted his head against her chest for attention.
“Joshua Franks’ boys have been here and gone. They replaced your window.”
Tears pricked her eyes. “It was kind of them to get it done so fast.” She hadn’t even called them, had meant to stop while she was in town. “I’ll make sure to pay them promptly.”
The chief cleared his throat. “It’s my understanding it’s being paid for.” His gaze flicked over to Sam.
Swiveling her head, she looked at him for confirmation. “You did that?” Although it should come as no surprise. The man had been doing his damnedest to take care of her since she’d first pulled up alongside him on the road and he’d refused a ride.
He gave a curt nod, his jaw tight.
“Thank you.”
“Adrianne,” Johnson began, “the violence is escalating. Have you considered going somewhere for a few weeks, maybe visiting a friend or distant relative?” Again, he gave Sam a fleeting look. “Maybe Las Vegas.”
Her shoulders stiffened. “I appreciate your concern, but it’s not Sam’s job to take care of me. There might be a few distant relations somewhere, but I have no idea where to find them, nor would I drag my problems into their lives. I’m staying. I have Grandpa’s shotgun. I can take care of myself.”
The last was addressed at both men.
She couldn’t abandon her grandparents’ legacy. If she left, part of her would die, and she wasn’t sure she’d get it back again.
She’d been miserable her entire adult life, caught in an endless loop of monotony and quiet despair. Only since coming home had the embers of hope and life begun to smolder. She was done running—from herself and from her stalker.
The chief cleared his throat. “No one doubts that you’re capable, but I don’t want to come out here some morning and find your body.”
Sam remained silent, his face a blank mask, making it impossible to tell what he was thinking. He did nothing to convince her to follow the chief’s suggestion.
A shiver skated over her skin. She hugged the cat tighter until he squirmed and she was forced to release him. That was blunt and to the point. She licked her dry lips. “I appreciate that, Chief. I sincerely hope the same. The stalker followed me here from Chicago. That took time and effort. He’s not likely to give up because I change location. I’d be looking over my shoulder for the rest of my life. At least here is familiar, and I’m surrounded by people I trust.” She stood and held out her hand, putting an end to the discussion. “Thank you again.”
He sighed and stood. “You’re as stubborn as your granny.” His big hand briefly surrounded hers.
“I take that as a compliment. Be sure to take those bakery boxes.” She waited until he picked them up and walked him out. Sam remained behind.
“I’m a phone call away. Anything spooks you or you hear anything, you call.” He stowed the boxes on the floor of the front seat before climbing into the police cruiser. He glanced at the front door. “You gonna be okay?”
She shaded her eyes against the glare of the sun. “I’ll be fine.” It was a lie and they both knew it. Nothing would be okay until this was over. Giving a wave, she waited on the porch until the car was out of sight. The screen door squeaked when she opened it. The hum of the refrigerator did nothing to cut the heavy silence pushing in around her.
Whatever was going on between her and Sam, she didn’t have the energy to deal with it, or him. She was exhausted and needed to rest while she could. Night would come faster than she wanted. Fear knotted her stomach. Leaving wouldn’t change anything; it would only prolong it, and she was done waiting for the other shoe to drop.
“Thank you for seeing about the window.” He hadn’t moved a muscle from his position in the kitchen. A patient hunter—or predator—he watched her, his eyes tracking her every move. “Let me know what I owe you.”
He sprang to life faster than should be possible for such a big man, his hands gripping her upper arms. “You owe me nothing.”
“I appreciate the gesture, but I don’t need or want your money.” What she wanted, he seemed incapable of giving. Maybe she’d only imagined the deeper emotions she’d glimpsed in his eyes. Maybe he was exactly what he professed to be—a coldhearted businessman with an overinflated sense of responsibility and a streak of gallantry he’d likely deny with his dying breath.
“Damn it, Adrianne.” His voice was rough as his fingers dug into her skin. For a brief second, she thought he was either going to shake her or kiss her. He did neither, thrusting her away.
Done with trying to understand his mood, she pointed at the front door. “I’m taking a nap. Lock up on your way out.” Turning her back on him, she headed down the hallway. There was no sound, but the change in air pressure alerted her that he was behind her. Before she could turn around, he scooped her into his arms and carried her to the guest room, dumping her unceremoniously onto the bed.
She should object to his handling of her, but every cell in her body sprang to life the second he’d touched her. Whatever was between them would be fleeting, but while it lasted, it burned hot and hard. Her nipples hardened against her bra as he dragged his shirt over his head, exposing the wide expanse of bronzed skin and sculpted muscles.
More than sleep, this was what she wanted, what she needed. His eyes were no longer blank. No, they blazed with passion. No indifference now. Chest heaving, his gaze raked her body from head to toe. A heavy pulse throbbed between her legs.
“If you don’t want this, say so now.” Shoulders bunched, hands fisted at his sides, he stood over her. “I don’t have condoms.”
They’d forgotten to buy protection while they were in town, and she certainly didn’t have any lying around. She’d been celibate a long time before Sam. The smart thing to do would be to tell him to leave. He would go. There was no doubt in her mind. But life was short and the raw sexual heat that simmered between them was rare.
Following his actions, she whipped her top over her head and tossed it onto the floor. “I want this.”