Blood Trinity (39 page)

And what about Isak, since he didn’t think her aura was human? She kept her clammy hands clasped in front of her to keep from fidgeting.

She’d seen what his demon-killing megablaster could do.

Did these men have any idea she might be Alterant?

At least these guys hadn’t stuck a sack over her head, but she had no idea where she was going.

The truck stopped. Then a groan of metal moving outside the van sounded next. That could be a garage-type metal door on a building. A really big one, based on how long it was taking to open. When the noise ceased, the truck drove forward about fifty feet and parked.

No one moved until the rear door opened. She waited for her cue to exit, then stepped out into a hangar that soared three stories high in the center.

She hadn’t heard airplanes on her way here, so this might or might not be at an airport. The drive had taken half an hour. That would make the time around three in the morning, but she wasn’t lifting her watch into view to check.

No sudden moves around men with megaweapons.

Laredo angled his head away from her. “Follow me.”

She did as ordered, hiking through a building that could hold a 747, but all it contained right now was the panel van she’d arrived in, two dark green Hummers and a gold Dodge Ram 250 diesel pickup. At the far end of the structure, someone had built offices. Laredo opened a door and stepped aside, leaving her with simple instructions. “Continue down that hallway to the door at the end, ma’am.”

She doubted escape would be realistic at this point, and the door was only three long strides away. She reached it and closed her fingers around the doorknob, pushing it open, when her sense of smell said
lasagna
.

Well at least Rambo liked Italian
.

On the other side of the door was a large office space. Over to her left, a table had been set up with two place settings and chairs. She walked further inside until she saw a sideboard with food lined up.

Isak stood in front of the sideboard, preparing two plates. “Can’t believe what it takes to eat a meal with you.”

She sorted through her reactions, from trepidation to anger to annoyance to surprise, and settled on humor. She had, after all, stood him up twice. And he didn’t seem ticked off with her or threatening. But he’d still snatched her off the street.

“Kidnapping me at gunpoint puts me in
such
an entertaining mood. Got a movie for later?”

He glanced her way, smiling at first, then did a double take, examining her from head to toe. His gaze turned murderous and he headed for the door. “Jones is dead.”

“Jones?” She realized then that Isak had assumed his man had been the culprit behind her beat-to-hell look. “No, no, no.” She pointed at herself. “He didn’t do
this
.”

Isak paused in midstride and turned to stop right in front of her. He touched her face with fingers so gentle it reminded her of the wind on her cheeks at night. “Did you wreck your bike?”

“Of course not.” She’d hurt someone for scratching her baby. “Might say I had a bad day at the office.”

His eyes held a thousand questions, none of which she could answer. Especially with him standing so close and with his fingertips grazing her bruised cheek. His fingers slipped under her chin and lifted slightly. “You’re not going to tell me who did this to you, are you?”

“What would you do if I did?”

“Far worse than what happened to that Birrn demon.”

He had to be the most charming kidnapper on earth. “No, I can’t tell you. The smell of food is killing me. I’d like to wash up first.”

“Bathroom’s over there.” He pointed to a door across the room.

She backed away from his fingers and went into the bathroom, which was clean and basic. A huge mirror told her just how bad the past twenty-four hours had been if her exhausted eyes, bruised skin and ratted-up hair were any indication. She scrubbed her face, arms and exposed chest skin, removing the mud that had dried from being slammed into the ground by Tristan at the park. She braided her hair again. Not much she could do about her ragged shirt.

Stepping back into the office-dining room, she sucked in the aroma of warm lasagna again. She should refuse to eat, talk or put up with being captured, but she hadn’t eaten in so long she was getting shaky from low blood sugar.

Don’t drool
.

Music played softly in the background. Just enough sound to soften the quiet edges of the room. “Nice digs. Been using Martha Stewart’s guide to kidnapping?”

The prick of smile at his lips was his only acknowledgment she’d spoken.

Maybe she should button down on the sarcasm. Best not to wake the demon-killing side of him.

“Wine?” Isak set a plate at each end of the table.

“Water, please.” She was severely underdressed in her now filthy BDU shirt that had been new twenty years ago, the running top still gritty with mud, and jeans with a tear down one leg.

Isak’s short-sleeved black dress shirt and clean black jeans fit him like a wicked whisper. She’d been right about his eyes. Blue as the ocean and set in a face that hinted of Norwegian ancestors. That would explain the genetics for a body built like a tank. He was as drool-worthy as the meal.

Those quick eyes that missed nothing met hers and saw the admiration she should have kept secret.

How many kinds of a fool was she going to be around this guy?
Get your head back into save-butt gear
. She shifted her attention to a safe topic. “Smells delicious.”

The smile lifting one side of his mouth should have worried her instead of kicking up her heartbeat. “Dig in.”

She lifted a fork to stab salad in the glass bowl sitting to the side of her plate. She should address standing him up the second time. “Couldn’t help missing our meeting again.”

“Business, right?”

“Yes, actually. How’d you find me?” She might have to continue meeting him if he fed her like this.

“Remember? I have friends in low places.”

“So … what? You have a complete file downloaded on me?”

“I have enough.” He ate like a man should, no holding back, but she kept catching something in his movements that argued against his earthy personality. There. When he lifted the water goblet. It fit his hand as if he was as accustomed to crystal glass as he was to eating MREs—Meals Ready to Eat—in the field.

“In that case, what’s in my file?” She pushed another mouthful of Italian deliciousness into her mouth.

“I know your name is E. Valerie Kincaid, but not what the E stands for.”

“Me either. If you find out let me know.” The aunt who’d raised her had never explained why Evalle only had the initial E and not a first name. Would Isak have found out who her father and mother were? Her aunt had never shared the name of either. She’d only told Evalle that her mother was trash and her father didn’t want her.

“Why don’t you know?”

She shrugged. “I’ve always had just E, which is why my nickname became Evalle. The woman who raised me called me E. Valerie for a while, then it
morphed into E-val. You happen to find out who my father was while you were at it?”

His head canted to one side with an odd look of surprise on his face. “No. The records only show the woman listed as your adoptive mother.”

So he didn’t know the woman was her aunt? “What else do you know about me?”

“I know your aura is not human.”

She paused with a forkful of lasagna at her lips. Go on offense when you have no defense. “That wasn’t funny when you said it last night and it’s not funny now, Isak.”

Isak finished chewing and swallowing his last mouthful, then wiped his lips with the linen napkin. “Humans have a pale aqua and sometimes pinkish aura. Yours is silver.”

She felt each heavy thump of her heart in the space between his last three words. She put her fork down and faced him, the muscles in her body tightening to face a possible threat even though Isak’s tone had been one of curiosity more than challenge. “What are you accusing me of being? Something like that Birrn demon?”

He finally looked into her eyes—or seemed to look right through her glasses—then his gaze pulled back, studying her head and shoulders. “I’m not accusing you of anything. I’m curious to know why yours is different.”

How to answer that question? “I don’t know. I can’t see auras. Are you sure about what you’re seeing?”

Or had she misread his charm and he was toying with her?

“Yes, I’m good at reading auras.”

No one had told her she had a silver one, but she lived around nonhumans all the time and couldn’t see auras herself. Chances were they all had strange auras and thought nothing of hers. She had to either convince him she was not a threat or get the hell out of here quick.

But she needed information he had on the Birrn demon and possibly anything else he knew. Asking for that right now would not curb his suspicions. She turned the topic back to him. “I’ve always thought people like psychics saw auras. Are you psychic or something
else
?”

“Something else.”

“Human?”

“Most definitely.”

She tapped her fingers on the table. “This is pretty one-sided. You yank me in here like a captive and want me to answer questions, but you aren’t sharing a thing. You want to know about me? Who are you? Where’d you come from? Who do you work for? Where’d you get that superblaster gun? How is it you’re human and you can find nonhumans?”

He drew in a deep breath and leaned back as he expelled it. He propped an elbow on the table and rested his chin on his bent fingers, thinking on something. “I was raised in a military family, so I lived everywhere until I joined the army. I left the army last year. All my men are former military of some sort. They all work for Nyght, Inc. I can’t discuss what we do, but we save lives that are threatened. I designed the weapon you saw the other night. And I guess you can say I have a natural gift for finding nonhumans.”

Where was Storm when she needed the human lie detector? She pushed her plate away. “I can’t help but think you brought me here because you think I’m not human.”

He stood up and started clearing the dishes to the sideboard then sat down across from her again. “I haven’t accused you of that. Just want to know a little more about you. Like where you grew up.”

If he had her birth records he had to know some basics, but how much of the records was fabricated if her aunt was listed as an adoptive parent? She wouldn’t tell him anything he didn’t already know.

Since he was being reasonable and she still wanted information, she said, “I grew up in a little town in western Indiana.”

“There’s no school listing for you anywhere.”

“That’s because I didn’t go to school.”

“Your name would show up somewhere even being home schooled.”

“I wasn’t home schooled.”

That stumped him for a moment.

She knew so little about where she came from she’d like to see the file he had on her, but that wasn’t her first concern right now. “Why does my background matter to you?”

He sat down again, arm on the table, as relaxed as a tiger that could pounce at any moment. “I’ll be honest with you. You were on site with that Birrn demon. There have been two more demons in the city besides that one. I’m following every lead on anything unusual. You’re unusual.”

“Unusual? In what way?”

“No one sees you during the day.”

“Who do you mean when you say no one?”

Lifting his hands, he counted off fingers. “The morgue where you work has you listed as nights only, no exceptions. Your bike is only on traffic cameras at night.”

She caught his look of
need I go on?
“What exactly do you think that makes me?”

“I’d say a vampire if not for your aura. The dead do not have auras.” He’d said that in a joking manner, but she didn’t think this man joked about things like that.

If she didn’t give him a reason he could accept for
her nocturnal behavior, he was going to become a problem for her. “I was born with a rare skin disease. Vitamin D is poison to my body. It’s as simple as that.”

“What about the silver aura?”

“I don’t have an answer for you. What else have you encountered that has a silver aura?”

“Nothing.”

Halle-freakin’-lujah. She allowed the trapped air to escape from her lungs but held her unconcerned façade. “Maybe the strange aura is just part of the whole allergy to the sun thing.”

“Maybe.”

He wasn’t letting this go, not inside that iron-tight mind of his. She smiled in spite of her apprehension and said in a lighthearted tone, “You going to arrest me over suspicion of being unusual?”

“I don’t arrest anything.”

This conversation had taken a serious turn. “That’s right. You shoot to kill and send your goon squad as limo drivers.” Sometimes attitude was the best weapon handy. She stood up. “Dinner was wonderful. I really appreciate it and the curb service.”

“I still have a question.”

“I still have a busy schedule. Save it for our next clandestine dinner.”

“How long have you been talking to Nightstalkers? None of them ever see you during the day either.”

Crud. If she walked out now he’d take that as fear, and that wasn’t happening. She sat down. “I already told you why I don’t go out in daylight. What do you want, Isak?”

“The truth.”

That wasn’t going to happen. Tzader had warned her that Isak was after Alterants and to stay away. Coming here hadn’t been
her
idea. What truth could she give Isak that might end his suspicions and open the door to finding out about his intel?

“One more time. The truth is that I was born with a severe reaction to the sun. It will kill me. I’m not a demon or a monster.” Most days. “My parents were human. My mother died in childbirth. The woman who raised me was an aunt, if your definition of
being raised
is being kept in a basement twenty-four-seven for eighteen years, where I got fed every day.”

He frowned at that but didn’t interrupt her.

“She did teach me to read, write and speak so that I wouldn’t require as much care. She hated my mother and told me my father didn’t want some freak for a child. I do see spirits and can sometimes talk to them. I work at the morgue and do not harm humans, animals or aliens who don’t harm me. What else?”